He laid his hand on her abdomen. "It hurts to love you and this child."

"Hurts? But why?"

He swallowed. "Because the harder you love, the more it will crush you to lose it."

Roca entwined her hand with his, five fingers with four. "Whatever happens, know that I will do everything I can to make it possible that we can stay together."

His mood lightened. "Good. It will give me more opportunity to do this." Sliding his hand under her shift, he tickled her side.

Laughing, Roca pushed his hand away. "Eldri-"

"Bard Eldrinson!" The cry came from outside. "Come! Hurry!"

Warriors paced the top of the huge wall that surrounded Windward, protected by reed-shaped merlons.

Roca, Eldri, and Garlin crowded into the lookout of the high tower. Leaning into a narrow opening, Roca studied Avaril's army in the plain below. They were guiding a battering ram on wheels, pushing it toward the bridge that arched across the chasm to Windward.

Eldri leaned next to her. "What can you see?"

"I can't figure out how they plan to use that thing." Roca magnified the scene with her optics. "They need a way to drive it forward, but I don't see any mechanism."

"Maybe they will just push it."

"That won't give enough force." She pulled away from the opening, awkward now, clumsy with her girth. "I don't think they've finished it yet."

Garlin was leaning against the wall next to them. "It might be a test, to see if they can get it across the bridge."

Roca regarded him uneasily. "They're managing just fine."

Eldri stood up straighter. "Garlin, I want the men to step up their training sessions. I will work with them again later this afternoon."

Garlin laid a hand on his shoulder. "I will do it."

Eldri pushed off his hand. "I will be fine."

"If you overwork yourself, you may have more attacks." Garlin spoke awkwardly, obviously aware his words could hurt. "Having one in front of your men now could hurt morale."

Eldri crossed his arms. "I would be no Bard if I hid while my men prepared for battle."

The mention of his t.i.tle startled Roca. Although many cultures a.s.sociated song with battle, this was the only one she knew of where the ability to sing historically accurate ballads had become a prerequisite for commanding an army. She hoped Avaril Valdoria had an atrocious voice. It would be fitting retribution for this man who would be Bard.

"You mustn't push yourself," Garlin told Eldri.

"I haven't had an attack in days," Eldri said.

"That doesn't mean they have stopped."

Roca almost urged Garlin to let him be, to let Eldri save his pride; then she wanted to urge Eldri to protect himself. She held back, knowing neither man would relent. Instead she said, "Eldri, can you do your extra workouts with Garlin?" Besides supervising his men's training, Eldri also trained one-on-one with selected partners, to hone his craft. "If you have a seizure, Garlin knows how to deal with it."

Eldri shook his head. "I must work with my men. Otherwise, why should they follow me?"

"And if the convulsions start again?" Garlin asked.

"Then they come." Eldri nodded to them. Before they could protest further, he took his leave, going down a narrow staircase to the shielded pathway that ran along the top of the wall. Roca wanted to go after him, but she held back. Through the doorway, she could see him walking. Each time he pa.s.sed one of his men, he stopped for a moment to talk before continuing on his way.

Garlin watched until Eldri turned a corner. "The crime of it," he said, "is that he is a natural leader. The men would follow him from here to the moons if he asked."

"If he has a convulsion during battle," Roca said, "he's dead."

"And if he survives because he holds back when others fight?" Garlin spoke heavily. "He couldn't live with himself."

Roca knew he was right; if they interfered, Eldri would never forgive them. She wondered if fate were laughing at them. It offered all of humanity a new hope in Eldri, one of the strongest psions ever born-and then would take his life before he ever had a chance to realize his gifts.

17.

Bridge of Sorrows.

There." Brad set the delicate contraption on Roca's upturned hand. The hollow gla.s.swood body was so small, it fit in her palm, but the wings had a span longer than her forearm. She and Brad had used the skin of red and blue bubbles to make them. He had scavenged components from his palmtop and smart-knife and even torn out tiny computers in the clothes he had worn up here that long-ago day he had come to see if she was all right.

A breeze from the open window picked up the flier, and Roca barely managed to grab it before the wind carried it away.

Brad closed the shutters. "I hope it can reach the plains."

"I too. Who knows how long it can stay aloft." Roca flicked her thumb against the switch on the flier.

The gadget fluttered up, wheeled around the chamber a few times, and drifted to the floor. She laid her hand on her abdomen, thinking a child would love such a gadget.

As Brad retrieved the flier, a tiny holo of Eldri activated above it and began telling them Windward needed help.

"It looks good," Roca said as the message finished.

"We can make ten of these fliers," Brad said. "Actually, we can make as many as we want. But to run the holo, I only have enough components for ten."

"We could send written messages on the rest."

"Who would read them?"

That gave her pause. It was too easy to forget the Lyshrioli had no written language. They didn't even understand the concept. She sighed. "If only we could attach a Memory to the fliers. That would solve everything."

"The components have memory." Brad shrugged. "They could hold hundreds of text messages, but no one here could decipher them."

"I meant Shaliece.TheMemory." Roca smiled. "I suppose she is like a computer. Her recall is incredible."

Brad nodded. "I've wondered if the original colonists here were trying to design human computers."

"I wish I could spend more time learning the culture." Roca would have liked to hear her sister's opinions on it. Dehya's genius with computers never ceased to astonish Roca. "It's remarkable."

"And in danger of vanishing." His anger flashed. "The resort planners intend to develop this world. If it has inconvenient wars, they may just take over and get rid of the leaders."

Roca scowled at him. "I thought your people had all these rules to protect new worlds."

"We do." Dryly he added, "So many, in fact, that corporations can use some of them to run circles around the others." He ran his finger down the flier's wing. "But only within limits. It's true, with the right approvals, the developers can get permission to meddle. But no one would allow me to kill the people."

She thought of his pulse-gun, useless in the port. "Even if you were defending yourself?"

He hesitated. "The boundaries are always gray."

She wondered if he realized just how gray. "Your laws are moot, here, anyway. This should be a Skolian world."

"And if it was?" His expression darkened. "What would you do? Kick out the developers and send in your military?"

Roca wanted to deny it, but she couldn't. ISC always set up a base on a new planet before it allowed civilian contact. If they weren't careful, their effect here could be as deleterious as the resort planners.

With care, she said, "Normally, yes."

"Normally?"

She spoke quietly. "I am a Ruby Dynasty heir."

That seemed to throw him. After a moment he said, "We've been here so long, sometimes I forget what your t.i.tle means beyond this world."

She thought of her marriage to Eldri. "Sometimes, so do I."

"Will you help Eldri's people?"

"I certainly intend to try."

"What about your family?" He spoke cautiously. "I imagine your new husband will surprise them."

That was certainly a masterful understatement. It wasn't a subject she wished to discuss with anyone, even herself. She wanted to enjoy however little time she and Eldri had left rather than brooding on a future they might never see.

Roca motioned at the flier. "If we send out ten with holos, a few might reach Dalvador."

"Changing the subject won't make it go away," Brad said. When she only looked at him, he held up his hands. "Right. The fliers. We'll have one chance with them. The first time we send out any, it will probably catch Avaril off guard. After that, I imagine his archers will be ready to shoot them down."

"We need decoys, to help the holo fliers get through."

"It shouldn't take long to make them, now that we know how." He shifted his weight. "But Lady Roca-when we launch the holo fliers, we lose our means to communicate with the port."

Roca also dreaded cutting their last link to home. "Let's just hope it works."

Standing at a window on the second story of Windward, Roca could watch Eldri's men training below.

They were working in the "narrows," a long portion of the courtyard bordered by low walls. Stands for an audience stood along one long wall and tables along the other. She had wondered at the purpose of the narrows when she first came to Windward. Now she knew.

In peacetime, the warriors here stayed in shape by holding compet.i.tions in swordsmanship and archery.

Healers used the tables as stations where they could treat injured men. But today was no game. Eldri and his warriors trained with a fierce concentration broken only by the clang of swords, the thunk of arrows, and the grunts of men. Healers waited with supplies, and pallets lay on the ground near them, ready for anyone hurt during the exercises.

Eldri's prowess with a sword mesmerized Roca. Even from so far away, she felt his intensity. Years of training had honed his skill; now he moved on instinct, as if the sword were a part of him. It was a bittersweet joy to watch, like seeing a beautiful dance, but one as deadly as it was graceful.

Her heart was tearing in two. Eldri would fight if-no, when-Avaril's army attacked. If he had a seizure, he would probably die; it was unlikely he would be lucky enough to frighten away his opponents again. And he knew it. Yet still he intended to lead his men. She wanted to rage against his determination, his pride, the integrity that made him refuse to stay back when others went into battle.

But nothing would change his mind.

Rolling over in bed, Roca opened her eyes into darkness. The shutters in the window alcove across the suite were cracked open, letting in air and hints of the pristine light that heralded the suns, though the strip of dark sky she saw wasn't yet touched by the gold, pink, and red of dawn.

She didn't know what had awoken her. Eldri lay at her side, deep in sleep, one hand under his cheek.

The castle was quiet. People were surely stirring, but in here she heard nothing. On a world with no birds, the dawn came in silence. Lyshriol needed no musical animals; in its Bards, it had singers of unmatched beauty.

A distant clanking interrupted the silence, followed by a call from the courtyard. Roca slid out of bed and padded across the cold stone floor to a window that overlooked the courtyard. When she pushed apart the shutters, breezes blew across her face, less chilly today than usual.

Three men were running across the courtyard, outfitted in leather armor and mail, their hair streaming out, two holding helmets. One shouted to someone out of her sight. She didn't understand his words, but the alarm in his voice needed no translation.

Roca turned-and saw Eldri standing by the bed, his face blurred with sleep as he pulled on his trousers.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know." He fastened his clothes, his fingers fumbling. "But they wouldn't sound an alarm without reason."

She went over to him. "Eldri-"

He took her hands. "Stay here. Don't go outside or even downstairs. We don't know if Avaril realizes I have married. Go to Brad's suite and hide. If they think you are Brad's woman, they may spare you."

She stared at him, hearing what he didn't say. He feared he would die today. She squeezed his fingers. It seemed surreal, impossible, that the heir to an interstellar empire had to see her husband go out with no more protection than primitive armor and a sword. "Take care."

Eldri kissed her, softly, urgently. Then he strode out the door, tying the laces on his shirt.

A crash vibrated outside. Roca ran back to the window, but she saw only Eldri's men gathering below.

Another crash came, thundering from beyond the great wall that protected the castle.

"G.o.ds almighty," she muttered. It sounded like Avaril's people were using the battering ram.

Roca threw on her clothes and ran out into the hall, headed for Brad's suite. She had only gone halfway when she saw him striding toward her. They met in front of a niche with the statue of a woman holding a bow and quiver, the archer-G.o.ddess Sauscony, now a part of Lyshrioli mythology, but probably a remnant from the ancient era when star queens had settled this world.