"As in the case of Lord Musthorpe?" Musthorpe had been another Thencaster suspect, but had succumbed to a very convenient fever be-fore the warrant for his arrest could be delivered. The Guard was con-vinced the Dark Chamber had poisoned him.

Grand Master shot Wolf a dark glance."There are such things as co-incidences." He could have pointed out that the Musthorpe's death had been so ambiguous that his Blades had eventually recovered from their bereavement, which was more than could be said of those the King's Killer had taken off the roll."I want to tell you two things,Wolf. Firstly, I sent an appeal for help to Mother Fire Rose, prioress of the White Sis-ters at Lomouth.You know the lady?"

"No, Grand Master."

"Do not be deceived by her homely manner. She has a mind like a rapier. But she is old now and will probably send someone else."

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"The cat-man was obviously conjured. What else do you suspect? His medallion?"

Grand Master took up the tongs and jabbed idly at the fire. "I'd be interested to hear the worthy Sisters'

opinion of that, but not at all sur-prised if they fail to find any conjuration on it.Which brings me to the second thing. I kept secrets from you and the inquisitor, which was a foolish old man's whim. I will confess to you and trust your discretion."

Here came the golden labret. "That won't be-"

"No, please! I should have told you right away. My motives were very trivial.There is no evil secret behind this. It was just that all my life I have refused to involve my family in affairs of state, and I balked at doing so today, stupidly.The person I was shielding was my son."

"Oh?"Wolf had never heard him mention his family before.

"Andy was for many years a sailor, eventually master of his own ship, a trader and explorer of some renown. He always brought back memen-tos from his travels, and after one voyage he presented his mother with a jade figurine of a somewhat sinister-looking cat. He gave me a labret of gold, depicting a fanged serpent-with an explanation of what it was, of course, and the joking suggestion that I start a new fashion around court by having my lip pierced. Being a loving and dutiful son, you see. Can you imagine what old Ambrose would have said? Both trinkets came from wherever your invaders came from, for they show the same artistic style."

"So the next question is-"

"Where did he acquire it? Somewhere in that newfound world they call the Hence Lands. Exactly where I cannot recall, for he had many tales and it was long ago. Andy's only a farmer now. He lives in my old house, Ivywalls, just west of Grandon. If you wish to consult him, then I am certain he will eagerly provide what help he can." Grand Master glanced at his guest, and some trick of the light on his gaunt features cruelly emphasized the age he so rarely showed."I did not mention him earlier because the Dark Chamber will-"

"Hassle him mercilessly, of course."

"Exactly. And, knowing Andy, I am sure he will react badly if he is not forewarned. At times he displays a streak of orneriness he claims to have inherited from one of his parents."

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Suddenly Wolf had a lead, a light to follow, and his way ahead was clear. "I must return to Grandon very soon-to see tonight's haul of loot delivered safely, if nothing else. Also, I am sure there are no more answers here in Quondam. I do not think your son can be kept out of the matter entirely, but I promise I will not mention him to Hogwood until I have had a chance to speak to him myself."

"Then I am much in your debt,Wolf.Truly I am! I will give you a note of introduction. Once the situation has been explained to him, Andy will gladly help you track down these vicious killers."

"I do not see he need appear in the affair at all,"Wolf said.

"Ah, but there is more." Grand Master sighed. "My wife was much attracted to the figurine, but she took a virulent dislike to the labret. She was a White Sister and not given to strange fancies. Although she could detect no trace of spirituality on my little snake head, she would not have it in the house. I took it to my chambers in Greymere, locked it away, and forgot all about it until after I left office. It is presently in Iron-hall. I will be happy to let you have it, if you see the need. I am sorry I kept this tale from you."

Wolf squared mental shoulders and said, "I am sorry for not being quite open with you either. Ironhall is so crowded that Sir Intrepid in-sisted on billeting me in your chamber last night. I saw your serpent."

Grand Master laughed with no trace of resentment. "As I tell the juniors, honesty is always the best policy! I thank you for not unmask-ing me before the inquisitor."

"It never occurred to me to."

Knowing that the abduction of Amy Sprat had been effected by men from the far side of the western ocean made the matter more mys-terious, not less. Wolf said, "Make one more confession, Grand Master. Have you any notion, any wild wisp of a theory, to explain why these men should sail halfway around the world to this castle merely to abduct Baroness Celeste? Atthistime of year?"

Roland shook his head and went back to staring into the fire. "Not an inkling. It is incomprehensible.

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sen you to solve one of the greatest mysteries of the age. He chose wisely, I believe."

"You never used to flatter."

Grand Master sighed. "You never needed it before. Now you need all the support you can get."

They sat and talked of lesser things until a sudden collapse of the fire warned Wolf that he had lingered too long, because his host needed sleep, even if he did not. He thanked Grand Master again for all his help and set off up the ladder to his garret. He had not bothered to bring a lantern down with him, but he had left the door ajar to let firelight guide him home.

Someone had closed it, and not the wind, because he had propped it with the chair.

Royal guardsmen went armed with a sword only. Standard livery did not include a parrying dagger, any more than it included plate mail, and the average Blade never bothered to wear one unless he was ex-pecting trouble.Nobodypicked fights with Blades! Wolf was an excep-tion. He always carried a poniard at his belt and Sir Vicious had never told him to get rid of it, although he had blasted a couple of juniors who had tried to copy his example.Wolf also kept a stiletto in his sleeve, but no one knew about that.

Now he drew both dagger andDiligence.He took a very long time to raise the latch, and even longer to ease the door back far enough to peer in with even one eye. At that point he sheathed his blades and opened the door the rest of the way, faster but still silently.

The chair stood by the dying fire, and the person sprawled in it was Dolores Hogwood, apparently fast asleep. She was slender, but no one would mistake her for a boy now, and a man would have to be very greedy to complain about her figure. Her flowered robe had fallen open to reveal a shapely leg in its entirety, which hardly mattered because the silk was sheer enough to give him an excellent view of the rest of her as well. Very rich ladies might possess such gauzy, provocative garments, but normally they were only seen in brothels.Why would an inquisitor bring such a thing along on a mission to a wilderness like Whinmoor?

Oh, spirits, he was tempted! It had been a very long time since he 103.

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had been alone with a pretty girl.Whenever he did find a woman who could tolerate his nightmare face, inevitably someone would soon men-tion his tally of dead friends-to her or her mother-and that always ended any hint of romance. Hogwood was not merely pretty, she was young, nubile, and gorgeous. She was clearly very much available. He was extremely tempted to provide what she had obviously come look-ing for.

He was even more tempted to pick her up bodily and hurl her out into the corridor.

He took several deep breaths to bring his mangled emotions under control.Then he quietly collected his baggage and tiptoed across the cor-ridor to Hogwood's room. He gathered up her things-she was a lot less tidy than he was-and took them back to where she slept.When he left, he used his golden key to bolt the door behind him. It felt like a very stupid decision, but he was already a mass murderer. He had no wish to be a convicted rapist also. If the Dark Chamber wanted revenge for the death of Inquisitor Schlutter, it would have to be more subtle than that.

6.Wolf ran into his seductive assistant in the hall at dawn. She favored him with a full inquisitorial dead-fish stare, which was not just a way to intimidate witnesses; it could also be used to mask emotion. She should have been blushing a screaming scarlet. He suspected that he was, and tried to look angry.

"Grand Master is almost ready to leave. Have you anything to send with him?"

"No, Sir Wolf."

That was a relief. If she planned to accuse Lord Roland of with-holding information, she was not yet ready to commit her beliefs to paper. Or she did not trust him to deliver the report, perhaps.

Out in the bailey a full spring day was getting itself organized, com- 104.

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plete with sunshine and birdsong-just strident gulls and terns, admit-tedly, but better than nothing.

Water was dripping everywhere and the mud was ankle deep already. Grand Master and Tam duly departed, tak-ing with them three cat's-eye swords.

Wolf located Sir Alden in the stable, grooming his horse. "We must dispose of the bodies."Wemeaning you. The old warrior rested an arm on the horse's croup and regarded him without enthusiasm. "Throw 'em in the sea?"

"The King won't want corpses washing up all along his coasts."

"We're short of firewood. If weather turns bad again, we're like to freeze."

"I understand the floors in theGreatTower are unsafe?"

Alden waited a beat before nodding. "Baron won't like it."

"The Baron is past caring and we cannot tolerate fifty rotting car-casses. Use whatever fuel you have on hand to burn them and treat the floors as your emergency store. So ordered in the King's name, if that's how you want it."

For the first time Alden ventured a smile. "Aye,Your Majesty."

Wolf ordered the two sample bodies moved to the icehouse as Grand Master had suggested, and then began making a gruesome in-ventory of the others as each in turn was carried out-guessing at ages, noting war paint, clothes, body piercings, and so on. They might have dressed like fops, they might be uglies by Chivian standards, but they were an impressive collection of brawn. All were men in their prime with the right callouses for warriors, but curiously few scars. His study had no real purpose. Mostly he just did not know what to do next. He was a swordsman, not an inquisitor.

He had assumed that Hogwood was working her way through the castle, questioning every witness in turn to make sure they were hiding nothing-a procedure likely to be as futile as what he was doing. Not so! When about half the bodies had been loaded on to the wagon that served as hearse, he was startled to see his black-robed assistant disap-pearing out the postern gate. He caught up with her as she neared the top of the cliff. She was walking blind, her attention entirely on some-thing she held cupped in both hands.

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"Fine morning for a stroll," he remarked. "Mind telling me what you're doing?"

She did not look up."An extreme longshot, Sir Wolf. I have a tracker and I am following the Baroness's trail. It is faint, but I seem to be ob-taining consistent results."

She was walking in the muddy track the raiders had left on what Grand Master had called the main shore road. Wolf had watched con-jured tracking before, once even trailing a fugitive who had fled by boat, but this particular scent was more than five days old.

"What did you use for a drag?"

"I left it wrapped up in one of her ladyship's dresses overnight."

The trail descended rapidly, more like a slightly less steep strip of cliff than a road, and the footing was greasy as hot butter. Hogwood ig-nored the terrain, detouring safely around the boulders and chasms as if she trod in the exact prints of the warrior who had carried Celeste down this precipice by moonlight.

Poor Celeste! Wolf wondered if she had been still screaming as she came this way.

In places on that death-defying scramble he made out individual prints preserved in mud or slush-marks of shoes, mostly, also bare feet, but no tracks of giant birds, or cats.

"Did you find out about the tide?"

"Yes," Hogwood said vaguely, still staring down at the tracker. "It was at the full. Extraordinary."

Wolf ground teeth in silence for a few moments before giving in and saying, "Why extraordinary?"

"The night of the full moon? The highest tide of the month? Bael-ish raiders would never beach boats then and risk being stranded for two weeks."

"Two or three hundred strong men could move a few boats a long way down a beach."

At that moment Hogwood slipped and almost fell. He caught her elbow to steady her.

"Don't touch me!" She shook him off, keeping her eyes on the tracker.

He released both her and his temper."You were ready enough to be manhandled last night."

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Here the way crossed a very steep gully. She began edging sideways down the slope."And evermore I will be remembered as the girl who couldn't even lay a Blade."

He followed. "I'd have been happy to start your education, but I didn't want you waking the entire castle shouting rape."

She stopped abruptly at the bottom, standing in the stream itself so he almost walked into her. She was still bent over the conjurement. He thought she was losing the track, until he realized that her shoulders were shaking.

"What's wrong?"

She gasped. "Please!" She waslaughing! "Don't say things like that. I have to concentrate."

"Like what?"

"Like the idea ofyourapingme. Be quiet. This is important." She started climbing out of the gully.

Wolf followed in furious silence. He was certain now that Grand Inquisitor had sent Hogwood along with the express purpose of com-promising him somehow. The doctorate of conjury was a lie or a red herring. There was no other explanation for the negligee or last night's blatant performance.Today's derision was simply another tactic.

When the trail arrived at the beach, he said. "If you weren't trying to stage a rape, what was the reason for that disgusting performance?"

For the first time she looked at him, dark eyes mocking. "Disgust-ing? Spirits, can't you guess? I fancied a man and a Blade was the obvi-ous choice.Women can enjoy bed sports, too, you know. Or haven't you ever noticed?"

That was absurd. He had not been using Blade charm on her and nothing less would make a pretty girl lust after the ugliest man in Chivial.

"Decent women do not even think that way, let alone talk like that."

"By the seven saving spirits! A Blade lecturing on morality? And how can he know what a woman thinks? Now be quiet, Wolf, or you will make me break the thread."

He was just plain "Wolf" now, was he?

Short Cove was well named, just a scoop out of the cliffs, a hum- 107.

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mocky, boulder-strewn meadow with a small stream draining away into a pebble beach. The tide was out, the air pungent with odors of sea-weed, raucous with the screech of seabirds.