"What is this?" My voice was faint.

Wierolf scowled. "I don't know. I keep seeing it, whenever I get flashes of - that day at Olin. Why?"

"Because I've seen this symbol before," I said. I reached into my dress and fished out the onyx rings. "On two dead men, and one living man with a serious grudge against Sarists."

Wierolf turned the rings over in his fingers, his brows drawn taut together. "Where did you find these?"

"They were on the avalanche victims. Does it have something to do with the men who attacked you?"

"I - maybe. I can't remember. The avalanche victims?" Wierolf's frown intensified. He looked like his head hurt. "I don't understand."

But I did. For the first time, I understood every thing, and it was so sickeningly, perfectly obvious. "I have to go," I said, getting to my feet.

"What? Go where? Digger!" Wierolf said. But I was already gone.

I flew up the little pa.s.sage and hauled myself into the empty stillroom and out into the hallway. In the servants' stair, I dug through my hidden stash for the hunting map I'd taken first from Antoch's and then Daul's rooms. I unrolled it on the stairs. Where - where was it? There - about a day's ride northeast of Bryn Shaer was a marking for what looked like a good-sized country house, in the midst of a forest labeled Miniver, Stag, & Grouse. Olin.

Two people had told me that the hunting was good at Olin this time of year.

The prince, who had been hunting stag.

And Remy Daul. Who never hunted. And yet wore a huntsman's ring.

Somebody claiming the name Huntsmen says they've offed him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.

For a moment I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't stop staring at the name on the map. Good hunting at Olin. The rings. The sovereign he'd paid me with. His utter lack of surprise over Wierolf's death warrant. No, little mouse, that's not news. An order to kill the prince wouldn't seem like news to the man who'd already carried it out.

Somehow I was on my feet again. I had to find Lyll. Daul surely didn't know he'd failed. The "avalanche victims" must have been his accomplices; had he dispatched them too, while crossing the Breijarda Velde to Bryn Shaer? Grabbing the rings and the map, I banged up the stairs to Lady Lyll's rooms.

She swung the door open to my frantic knock. I pushed inside.

"Celyn, what on earth's the matter? You're white as milk."

"Daul tried to kill the prince." There wasn't any other way but blurting it out. My shaking hands dumped the map and rings on the rug, and Lyll bent to retrieve them. "It's not safe - we have to move him."

"What's this?" Lyll asked, an edge of concern in her calm voice.

I tried to nick a little of that calm for myself. Taking a deep breath, I started again. "I think that Lord Daul is responsible for the attempt to a.s.sa.s.sinate Prince Wierolf."

A little of the color leached from Lyll's face, and she rose and clicked her door shut, pointing to a low bench. "Sit. Explain."

I obeyed, while Lyll examined the map and rings, her expression growing sharper when I got to the avalanche victims in the tunnels.

"He must be one of these Huntsmen that the rumors are about," I said. "He called the ring a token of his commitment to something - and if he's already killed his accomplices . . . Milady, Wierolf isn't safe here."

"This is very disturbing," Lyll said slowly. "What made you . . . look into this?"

I wanted her to be brisk and decisive, sweep through the halls of Bryn Shaer and somehow whisk Wierolf to safety, but instead she was cautious. I could tell she was tracking back over my movements of the last few weeks - my perpetual lateness, my pointed questions, my late-night wanderings, my discovery of the prince. She'd convinced herself that I was just impetuous and curious, but now she'd be reconsidering her a.s.sessment of me. And she'd get to the truth.

I searched for the words to explain. "Your ladyship, I - I find things."

"You find things," she echoed. "I had noticed. Is it too much to hope that finding is all you've done?" When I couldn't answer, she pursed her lips. "I see. So besides spying on Lord Daul, what other things have you 'found'?"

I made a strangled sound. How many masks did Tiboran expect me to shed all at once? "Not on him, milady," I said. "For him."

She drew back. "Ah."

"Lady Lyllace, please. I didn't know he was going to turn out to be -" I faltered and gave up. Daul had shown me what he was the day I met him. The only surprise had been how I had come to feel about the Nemair. "I'm sorry. He's been collecting information to send to the Inquisition."

Lyll nodded slowly and crossed the room. "We know," she said finally.

"You know?"

She opened a locked compartment behind a drawer in her spice chest. "We've intercepted one of his messages. It was in code, so we have no idea what it says, but the Gerse address is a false one known to be used by His Majesty's spies. We made a copy, but had no choice but to let it go through. We slipped it back among the other messages before Berdal rode out. At least we're aware of him now." She took a folded paper from the chest.

There were a dozen questions I wanted to ask. "How long have you known about him?" I finally managed.

"I've wondered for some time, but it's only been since Berdal left with the mail that there's been anything concrete to confirm my concerns. We read all the messages before they left Bryn Shaer, and we recognized the address. That's one of the reasons Antoch took Daul with him this week - to keep an eye on him, somewhere he couldn't do any more harm."

"Milady, I - I don't know what to say," I said honestly. "This is all my fault, and -"

"I can't pretend to be pleased by this news, Celyn," Lyll said crisply. "But I have to suspect there was some fairly significant pressure brought to bear to . . . encourage your cooperation."

I nodded unhappily. "But what about the prince?" I said. "We have to do something, before Daul discovers that he's failed."

Lyll was grim, pacing between the chest and the bench. "Normally I would agree with you, of course. But, Celyn, he's not well enough to ride, and I'm afraid there's nowhere nearby to send him safely, and no one I trust, for that matter. I don't know what we can do."

"Then at least give him some guards or something!" I sounded desperate.

She considered this. "Good, yes. We have a little time, I hope. I will try to come up with alternate arrangements for His Highness before Daul returns and becomes an - urgent threat. But in the meantime, Celyn, I must ask you not to see the prince again."

I recognized the iron - the disappointment in her voice. "I understand, milady." There was so much I wanted to explain, to make her under stand, but all my explanations would sound false. Lyll would never trust me again.

She was still holding the paper from the spice chest, folding it and refolding it in her hands, and I caught a glimpse of the contents - a collection of symbols and numbers that seemed oddly familiar. "Milady, may I see that?"

She hesitated, but apparently decided I couldn't do any more harm either. I studied the strange notations in Daul's coded message, and for a moment every thing went absolutely still and quiet. "I know this," I whispered, dipping into my bodice. I pulled out Chavel's papers - the letter, the death warrant, and the third page that we hadn't been able to identify. Wordlessly, I pa.s.sed the lot to Lady Lyll. She took them, her breath growing quicker as she read.

"Where did you come by these?"

I looked at her. "Milady," I said, "I'm not really a jeweler's daughter."

She glanced up. "I was beginning to wonder."

Slowly I explained about the job at Chavel's, about the Greenmen waiting for us. About Tegen. Everything I had worked for Daul to keep hidden. As I spoke, Lyll took the packet of letters to her desk and lit a candle. Exactly as I had seen Daul do, weeks ago, she held the papers up, one by one, to the flame. Chavel had not had time to seal his letters with wax - but on the lip of each page appeared a faint circle of ink, showing an arrangement of four moons.

Lyll put a hand on my arm. "Your friend died recovering a Celyst code key," she said. "You have no idea how important this is. This will change every thing for us."

I watched the hidden ink seals darken over the flame. "Secretary Chavel?"

"A Sarist sympathizer," she said. "He was taking enormous risks, sending sensitive information out of Hanivard Palace. I'm sorry to say we heard that he had been arrested, but perhaps the fact that you removed this evidence will spare his life."

"What is that symbol?"

Lyll reached inside her desk and found another letter. As she held it over the flame, I saw the same symbol appear - no, not quite the same. A circle with three moons. She layered one paper over the other, so the seals overlapped, and held them before the light. Together, they made a circle with seven moons showing the seven points of a star.

A knock struck her door, making us both jump. Lyll extinguished the flame and tucked the papers into the heavy folds of her sleeves. "Get that, will you?" she said, and I swung the door open to admit Eptin Cwalo.

"Excellent," Lyll said. "Cwalo, come. I have news."

"I have as well, your ladyship," he said. "Your lord husband has returned."

I shot a panicked look at Lyll, but her practiced calm never wavered. "Good," she said. "Did our friends come?"

Cwalo stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "Unknown, milady. But apparently his lordship brings further news: Workmen have succeeded in clearing the snow from the Breijarda Velde. The pa.s.s is open."

"More good news," Lyll said brightly. "Lady Celyn -" She paused, and a cloud of something pa.s.sed over her face, but I couldn't tell what it was. She slipped the packet of letters from her sleeves and turned them over in her hands. "My dear," she said, "may I hold on to these for a bit?"

I reached out to touch the softened edges, the dried spots of Tegen's blood. Love letters, Phandre had called them, and I'd been wearing them pressed against my heart as if that were true. "Keep them," I said. "I've been trying to deliver them for two months."

Lyll squeezed my arm. "Go and see what tidings my husband brings," she said.

I stiffened. Daul was out there. "But what about -"

"Do nothing," she said firmly. "We must give no cause for alarm, do you understand me?"

I nodded, not at all confident I was that good a liar. But Lyll held me steady in her gaze. "All will be well, Celyn. Have faith." She gave me a nudge toward the door, and I left, wanting desperately to believe her.

Men and horses bustled in the paddock, unloading supplies and milling about Lord Antoch. I counted well over a dozen strange faces; where had they come from? Berdal had ridden out alone, and Antoch and Daul had taken only a handful of guards. Lord Antoch spotted me and gave me a crushing hug. "Ah, Celyn, good to be home," he said.

"I think her ladyship wants to see you," I said. Daul was glowering at me over the back of his horse, and I couldn't help noticing that his hands were bare. His ring was gone. I was dismayed - without that ring, there was nothing to tie him to the prince. Lord Antoch set off for the Lodge with Daul, most of the men trailing behind them.

"Welcome back," I said to Berdal, even daring to reach my gloved hand up to touch his horse's face, as I'd seen Meri do. It b.u.mped back at me in a snuffling, hungry way I didn't altogether care for.

"She likes you," Berdal said. "You come out when the weather's better, and I'll teach you to ride."

"Right," I said, curling back my fingers. I'd make time for that. "How was the trip? We were worried about you."

He looked embarra.s.sed. "Sorry about that. We had a little drama at home. One of my cousins has joined the army." He shook his head, hauling off his horse's saddle.

"Bardolph's army?" I said, and he actually spat into the snow.

"Worse. Astilan's! I thought my aunt Thilde would die of the shame."

I looked at him in surprise; people normally didn't speak so freely. "You don't support Astilan's claim?" I said tentatively, but guessing what the answer would be. He worked for the Nemair, didn't he? I remembered that woodsman in the inn saying the mountain people had supported the Sarists in the last rebellion.

"Not me," Berdal was saying, heading with his saddle toward the stables. "I'm strictly Wierolf's man, when the time comes."

He'll be glad to hear it, I thought. Berdal reappeared, still talking as he worked. "My father died at Kalorjn," he said. "A lot of boys up here are just waiting for a chance to fight that battle again."

I turned to where the liveried Nemair guards were leading a knot of commonly dressed fellows into the older part of the castle, and recalled Lady Lyll asking Did our friends come? The Nemair had no army; who did they plan would wield the guns waiting in the wine cellar? "Uh, how many boys?" I asked, and Berdal grinned.

"I guess it wouldn't do any harm to say her ladyship had better instruct that housekeeper of hers to start cooking meals for about five dozen. We brought about twenty home with us, but more are on their way. And more will be on the way soon, now that the pa.s.s is open."

"You weren't just delivering the mail," I said stupidly.

Berdal looked toward the castle. "It's not much, unfortunately, but it's a start. Men will come, now that word's out that Bryn Shaer is recruiting."

I hoped there would be time for Lady Lyll and Lord Antoch and their allies to gather all the troops they'd need. Bardolph had had eigh teen years to build up his army, while the Sarists had been barred from retaining more than a handful of guards. Oddly, a little thrill went through me, knowing every thing Lyll and the others were doing to prepare themselves.

Which would all be for nothing, if we couldn't safeguard the prince.

Upstairs in the Lesser Court, Lady Lyll and Meri were reading a letter together, their matching heads bent over a sheet of green-dyed parchment, a cracked seal of gold wax making two half-moons on the paper. Antoch stood behind them, looking grim. Meri was pale, but Lyll's face was set. She glanced up and waved me over.

"Milady?" I said. "What is it? Is it from the king?" Would the conspirators finally get their opportunity to present their demands to Bardolph's representative?

Wordlessly, Lyll pa.s.sed me the green letter, and I felt the chill in the room descend as I read it. This doc.u.ment didn't offer anybody at Bryn Shaer a chance to do anything except turn on each other in a b.l.o.o.d.y scramble to dodge the scald and gallows.

The letter was from Bardolph - and, as antic.i.p.ated, he was declining the Nemair's invitation. And he was sending someone in his place. But this representative would not be interested in the complaints of a handful of disgruntled n.o.bs.

Because the king was sending Werne Nebraut, the Lord High Inquisitor.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

I held that letter tight, my head buzzing. The name Werne, in thick black script, marched across the page like a roach, but I couldn't make myself drop the paper. Werne, coming here.

"When?" My voice was a mere thread of sound.

"The letter is more than a week old," Lord Antoch said. "They'll have word that the pa.s.s is open by now. With clear weather, Gerse is no more than five days' ride. If there's another storm, maybe a day or two more. But soon."

"By my birthday?" Meri said faintly. Somehow I had forgotten, but the Dead of Winter was only a few days away.