No. It was spilling blood in rivers, but it leaped on Lynx, crunching his shoulder in its jaws. He heard bones crack as they hit the floor to-gether, with the invader on top. Lynx tried to grab the thing's throat to choke it, but he had only one useful hand. The monster had no usable hands anymore, but it had knives on its feet, and it proceeded to rip Lynx apart with those.

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8.Hogwood said,"Do you, Lynx, warrant that what you dictated to Can-didate Tancred is the truth as you know it?"

"Wait!" Wolf barked. "He's not himself." Naked savages in mid-winter, superhuman warriors, unknown conjurations, insurrection for unknown purposes?

Lynx tried to laugh and grimaced in agony."I know it sounds mad, Wolfie, but the others will back me up." "It agrees with Grand Master's report," the inquisitor snapped.

Small wonder the Council was confused and the King so worried!

When the Thencaster Rebellion exploded, Athelgar had followed age-old tradition and fled to the safety of Grandon Bastion. The Bastion would be no haven if conjury could now take even a major fortress like Quondam so easily.

Wolf parried and riposted."Pray note, Inquisitor, that the bite marks on my brother's shoulder were made by jaws larger than those of any hound I ever saw.The King speculated that he might have been injured while fighting for the wrong team, so for the record, Lynx, did you fight to prevent the abduction of the Baroness?"

"I did." Had there been a fleabite of hesitation there? "You were wounded by the invaders?" "I was."

"While fighting alongside the Baron's men, the defenders?" "Yes." If dear King Athelgar had been hoping Wolf would have to arrest his own brother and charge him with murder, he would be disap-pointed. Relieved, he turned to Hogwood. "Is the witness telling the truth?"

She regarded Lynx glassily."He has not lied yet. Pray do not inter-rupt while I am questioning the witness, Sir Wolf. Sir Lynx, you describe the intruders as dark-skinned. Black or dark brown skin is found in 48.

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southern lands, where the sun is closer to the earth. Were these such men, or had they dyed themselves to be less visible at night?"

Lynx tried to shrug and winced again. "I don't know.They seemed about the color of ripe chestnuts, but the light was very poor."

"Describe the helmet your assailant was wearing."

This time his pause was longer."I'm not sure now that it was a hel-met. A sort of spotted mask covering his whole head ...but it bit me . . ." He peered down at his ravaged shoulder. "You described the Baroness as wearing 'rags and jewels.' What did you mean by that?" "What I said," Lynx retorted grumpily."She had no decent clothes and if she hadn't worn her jewelry all the time, it would have been stolen."

"By whom?"

"The Baron."

"Who is her current lover?"

"Mind your own business." Lynx set his teeth. For all his amiability, he could be stubborn as moorland granite.

But so could an inquisitor, and this one was very eager to prove her competence in an investigation of historic importance. "You are re-quired by law to answer my question. Did she have a lover?"

"Baroness Celeste is my ward and I will not-"

"Wait!" Wolf was willing to keep Hogwood on a slack rein, but browbeating his invalid brother went too far."Lynx, we're trying to find her.You want her found, don't you? We need your help. The only rea-son to kidnap Celeste is to free her from captivity and only a lover would care enough to risk this.Were you or Fell or Mandeville swiving Celeste?" Seeing another refusal coming, he tried to forestall it."Specif-ically-within the last year, did you or Fell or Mandeville have carnal relations with Baroness Celeste?"

Lynx glowered. "No. None of us."

"She had no lovers?"

"If by lovers you mean admirers, then everyone who pees standing up. If you mean who slept with her, then nobody." Knowing Celeste,Wolf found this statement as incredible as the as-sault itself. He sighed and returned the witness to Hogwood.

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"The Baron is a very old man," she prompted.

"And smelly." Lynx bared his teeth."Celeste would not have him in her chamber. She slept alone and we stood guard outside the door. Dupend loathes her. He has grandsons older than she is and she will in-herit everything he has left, through dower rights. He wanted nothing more in the world than to catch her with a man so he could divorce her and spit in the King's eye. That would be dangerous for her, and we made certain no other man got near her!" Anger had raised pink roses on his ashen pallor. His voice was as taut as a bowstring."To the best of my knowledge, Celeste has balled no man or boy since the day she left Greymere. I don't pretend she enjoyed chastity, but we weren't bound to keep her happy, only safe, so we saw to it."

"Not easy?"

Lynx conceded, "Like herding wasps!" with a shamefaced grin.

Hogwood took off after another scent. She was literally steaming, standing there before the fire. "So you have no idea who might have plotted to rescue Celeste from her captivity?"

"Not like that," Lynx muttered.

Flames! Wolf bit back another interruption. He was growing very uneasy.

She pounced. "Like what?"

"Not killing and violence."

"Who was plotting to free her, and how?"

"Me." Lynx spoke unhappily to his own toes."Us. Least, we'd talked some about it.We worried about her sanity. Lately she'd taken to weep-ing and moaning for days on end. She'd stand on the high battlements, staring down at the surf, brooding.We stayed very close to her when she did that. We searched her room every day for knives or rope. That sort of thing."

"She was always a wonderful actress," Wolf said, earning another brotherly glare.

"A few months after Baroness Dupend was sent to Quondam," Hogwood said, "she bore a child."

"Athelgar's, not Dupend's!" Lynx shouted. "Everyone knew that."

"It died within a few days?"

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P "Everyone celebrated! The Baron celebrated. Celeste was the only one who mourned."

"Did you not mourn it?"

That was an unfair question, but Lynx answered before Wolf could object.

"No. No, we celebrated, too, thinking she might be released then, that the King might let her go and live somewhere better." He stared down at his thick, scarred arms on the cover. "Even her Blades!"

"If the death of her child did not make her suicidal, then why this sudden concern for her sanity now?"

"How much cruelty can a woman take? Four years in jail? Four years of that awful climate? Four years of that awful husband? No ladies-in-waiting for company, no lady's maids to dress her hair? All her gowns-remember,Wolf, she had three wagons with her when she left Grandon? All that stuff disappeared. She wore her jewels all day long and probably in bed, too, for all I knew. Everything else got pilfered- clothes, silverware, even furniture. All gone."

"What did the Baron do about that?"

"He was behind it. He stole whatever he could and sold it. It was part of the deal, I think."

"What deal?"

Lynx sighed. "We thought Athelgar threw in her jewels when he gave her to Dupend. Dupend seemed to think he had a right to them."

That was reasonable, because if Athelgar felt an unwanted mistress was his to dispose of as he pleased, he would not scruple to deal off the finery he had given her.

The snoop said, "So what were you Blades planning?"

"We talked," Lynx said grumpily, "justtalked, about one of us rid-ing into Lomouth to pawn a bracelet or something and hire a ship.Then the other two would bring her.We hadn't gotten very far."

And never would have, if the Baron had sent his men after them. But he might just have shouted, "Good riddance!"Wolf made a mental note to ask Hogwood about dower rights.

"So," she said, "her Blades were plotting rescue but had not taken action?"

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"That's right."

"And you know of no other plots?"

"None."

"Could the Baron have faked this attack himself ?"

Lynx snorted. "Never."

This had gone far enough. "Can't my brother be allowed to rest now? It would seem that he has cleared himself of any complicity in this affair."

"Not necessarily." Hogwood continued to stare snakily at her vic-tim."Sir Lynx, have you deceived me or tried to deceive me in any way, by omission or equivocation, misdirection or evasion?"

That catchall invitation to self-incrimination was a hoary inquisito-rial trick, repeatedly denounced by the courts and repeatedly resur-rected. Fortunately Lynx was aware of it. "I refuse to answer that."

Intrepid walked in, ending the interrogation. If Wolf was not satis-fied with Lynx's story, he could not expect Hogwood to be.

9.The statements you wanted, Dolores," Master of Rituals proclaimed breezily, handing her a sheaf of paper. "Also some evidence for your, um, weapons expert. Sir Alden brought this along when he ferried over the wounded."

Intrepid enjoyed annoying people, especially people with any trace of authority. He handed Wolf a club as long as a man's arm, carved from some dark wood. It was not too heavy to swing with one hand, although the leather-bound grip had space for two.The shaft was an intricate tan-gle of fanciful birds, beasts, and vegetation, flaring out like a paddle at the working end, which was inset with teeth of black stone. Three of the original four had broken off, no doubt when that part acquired its ominous bloodstains.

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"but it could obviously damage people." He tried it for size against the wounds on Lynx's scalp. "I've never seen its like. Have you any idea where it came from?"

"No," Intrepid said, "but Grand Master thought he did.We did not have time to discuss it before he left for Quondam."

"No metal? Black stone, sharp as razors."

"Allow me." Hogwood took the weapon, giving Wolf in return the thick wad of eyewitness accounts, which she had already read. "This stone is volcanic glass, called obsidian. It fractures to extremely sharp edges.You will note that the design represents an animal's paw, probably a cat's-four operational claws and a smaller one set back so it is not en-gaged."

"Dogs have feet like that."Wolf hated being lectured.

"But dogs do not fight with their feet. And there are no dogs shown." She was peering at the carvings."Cats and birds-raptors, prob-ably accipiters, and possibly buteos." Know-it-all smartyskirts!

Intrepid was amused."Send it to the Privy Council and let the royal falconers worry about it. I have put you in the Queen's Tower, Dolores, since Baron Dupend has the Royal Suite.You will find a hot tub ready for you there. You, brother, will have the honor of sleeping in Grand Master's bed."

"No!"Wolf said. "I am not worthy."

"We have nowhere else to put you."

"I'll bed down in his study."

"I wish you a comfortable night there."

Wolf understood the sneer a little later, when he reached the study and found it in chaos: floorboards missing, half a fireplace, stacks of building materials everywhere. Ironhall had been already crowded.With Vicious anxious to replace all the old Ambrose and Malinda men, en-rollment had been raised to record numbers and more knights had been brought in to instruct.The Quondam wounded had filled the infirmary.

Wolf picked his way across to the tower door and went up to Grand Master's chamber. Unlike other knights who moldered away in Ironhall, Durendal was a wealthy man, and he had already refurbished the turret with opulent rugs and elegant furniture, very unlike the school's usual 53.

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relics.A hearty fire was driving off the chill and illuminating down-filled quilts and silken sheets, shelves of leather-bound books, golden candle-sticks, a carved alabaster inkstand on the escritoire.Three oil paintings- a strikingly beautiful young woman, a boy, and a girl-were clearly from some master's brush.Wolf felt like a trespasser.

When he had made himself presentable, he headed down to the in-evitable pre-dinner assembly, aware that he would be made to feel like a trespasser there, too. Except for Grand Master and a few others, the knights spurned Wolf the Blade-killer.

Eight or ten knights were already present, as were Inquisitor Hog-wood and Master of Rituals Intrepid, who was obviously enjoying the sensation she caused.A few fogeys sulked in the background, shocked to see a Dark Chamber snoop allowed inside Ironhall, but the rest had crowded in to enjoy rare female company. Some would not have seen a woman in years. She wore inquisitorial robes of plain black, without adornments, her sable hair was gathered in a caul, yet adulation con-verted her into a reigning monarch and her perfectly ordinary chair into a throne. No one could have told from her looks that she had ridden al-most thirty hours over winter roads.

Wolf entered unnoticed and accepted his usual goblet of well-watered wine from old Hurley. Sir Bowman, the new Master of Sabers, made him welcome with his usual wry humor and they stood back to watch as each newcomer reacted to the situation by drifting into one party or the other. The pro-Hogwood faction was ahead by about twelve to seven when a voice like a very rusty trumpet screeched out at their backs.

"Even inquisitors are better than murderers."

"Even female inquisitors are!" croaked another.

The room stilled. Wolf glanced across at Intrepid, who just shrugged. He turned to face the withered remains of Sir Etienne and Sir Kane, Ironhall's oldest inhabitants. Kane had been bound by Ambrose III and bore the unwelcome title of Father of the Order, being over ninety. Etienne could not be far behind, and neither seemed capable of sup-porting the weight of the cat's-eye swords they still had the audacity to wear. They had gummed Wolf before, but always Grand Master- 54.

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