"Go back to the husband you Chose because you couldn't have me," he taunted. "Go back to him and leave me alone."

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she breathed.

Laughter sc.r.a.ped his throat raw. "Truer than you know, my lady! My father the prince and my mother the princess-only not the one everyone thinks!"

Stark bewilderment replaced mortal hurt in her eyes.

"Ianthe!" he shouted. "My real mother was Princess Ianthe!"

"No-that's not possible-"

Her shock confirmed his worst fears. He would see it in everyone from now on, everyone. They would know whose son he was, and whose grandson.

"It's true. They told me tonight-finally told me the truth of who I am!"

Sionell rallied with infuriating swiftness. "What of it? What about your own truths? Are you defined by a woman dead for-"

"For the length of my life, less one day! Now you know-so get out!"

"No," she said quietly, and stepped closer to the fire.

"Don't you understand? You're supposed to be clever, clever, aren't you? I'm Roelstra's grandson, just like the man I'm supposed to kill! He's my aren't you? I'm Roelstra's grandson, just like the man I'm supposed to kill! He's my brother! brother!"

"And what of it?" she repeated.

"You haven't heard the best part yet! Can you guess, Sionell?" he jeered. "Does your cleverness extend to it? Have you figured out that I'm sorcerer's blood, just like my brother?"

"So is Riyan. So was Lord Urival. What of it? What of it?" she cried for a third time. "Does this makes any difference in what you choose to be?" Long fingers again pushed sweat-soaked hair from blazing blue eyes. "Will you choose your own life or trap yourself into what you think your ancestry makes you?"

"Leave me alone!" he shouted. "You can't possibly understand!"

"I understand you perfectly," she replied with a serenity that enraged him. "I always have. I just never knew it until I stopped loving you and started seeing you for what you are."

Stopped loving him? There was a sudden hollowness inside him that he never would have believed possible.

"You're arrogant and insufferable and self-centered," she continued icily. "The natural result of too much pride in too many gifts. And too d.a.m.ned smart for your own good."

"Thank you for that comforting list of my virtues," he snapped.

"Incomplete," she shot back. "But that's not important right now. What matters is that you're also strong enough to live as your intelligence and your heart say you must. Not as you think two dead people wanted."

"My whole life is a lie, Sionell! I'm not me, me, I'm-" I'm-"

Her temper suddenly ignited. "You're a fool! Maybe you're right. Maybe being Roelstra's grandson is is enough to overcome all you are, all you've been taught, all the love and guidance lavished on you from the day you were born! Maybe you'll forsake all that when you face Ruval, turn into some vicious-G.o.ddess knows I've seen cruelty enough in you tonight! You didn't spare me much." She paused, sudden suspicion tightening her features. "And you didn't spare your mother either, did you? Pol, how enough to overcome all you are, all you've been taught, all the love and guidance lavished on you from the day you were born! Maybe you'll forsake all that when you face Ruval, turn into some vicious-G.o.ddess knows I've seen cruelty enough in you tonight! You didn't spare me much." She paused, sudden suspicion tightening her features. "And you didn't spare your mother either, did you? Pol, how could could you?" you?"

"She's not my mother!"

Sionell crossed the distance between them and struck him across the face. "d.a.m.n you," she hissed, breathing hard. "Cruelty and disloyalty make a fine start! You're right, Pol, you're just like your grandsire! Why don't you let Ruval kill you? That way you won't have to spend your life proving to everyone else what a monster you really are-the way you proved it to me tonight!"

She wrenched open the door and the gush of air snagged at the flames. The next instant she was gone.

Rohan stood alone, unnoticed and unremarked in an alcove near the main stairs. He wasn't exactly hiding, but he did want to observe without being a.s.saulted with endless questions while at his order every room in the keep was emptied.

It was considerably past midnight. The general tone of conversation was therefore querulous if not downright irritable as servants, squires, guards, and highborns alike descended the stairs. Muttering and complaining, they crowded into the foyer, which was dimly lit by four tall standing branches of candles. To pa.s.s the time while he waited for the castle to clear, Rohan wagered with himself that he could guess what they'd say. Most of it was fairly predictable.

"What's going on?"

"How do I know?"

"We already searched from Flametower to the cellars-"

"It's the High Prince's order. Just do it!" This from an under-chamberlain to a group of drowsy-eyed maids he was herding downstairs.

"But why order everyone out?"

Rialt, taking the last steps two at a time, said, "Whatever the reason, look lively. It's bad practice to keep a prince waiting."

Hollis and Maarken, carrying their sleepy children, said nothing. Morwenna came downstairs with bedrobe askew, grumbling under her breath about an honest day's work deserving an honest night's slumber. The duty guards were polite but firm as they ushered castlefolk and Miyon's servants out to the courtyard.

"This is an outrage!" announced Lord Barig. His Giladan lawyers agreed with him. Rohan mouthed the next, inevitable words along with his lordship: "I demand to know the meaning of this!"

Nodding to himself, Rohan saw Barig waylay Arlis, who stood in the foyer encouraging people to a.s.semble swiftly in the courtyard. The young man listened with grave politeness, shrugged an apology, and gestured to the doors.

Andry was predictably silent, but Nialdan rumbled, "It's the middle of the night! Why are we being rousted out of bed?" To which Andry replied softly, "Doubtless to witness something both entertaining and instructive. Aren't you glad we were given three days to leave?"

Sionell came down the stairs wrapped in a thick robe, her hair dripping. Rohan's brows shot up; it was a little late at night for a bath. Tallain was waiting for her in the foyer. Rohan could not hear the words they exchanged, but as she huddled into the curve of his arm his protective tenderness was eloquent. Rohan tried to puzzle it out as noisy squires and young servants trooped past. Something had hurt Sionell. More than that, he realized, something had made her feel unclean. He had felt the same impulse himself at times, a need for cool cleansing water. But the cause of her distress was a mystery. Pol's infatuation with Meiglan, perhaps? No, Ell was too sensible for that. Come to think of it, where was Meiglan?

Chay went by with Jahnavi, complimenting the boy on his instinctive grab for his sword-a true warrior's reaction on so abrupt a wakening. "By the G.o.ddess' grace, I hope you won't need it," he added.

Miyon was next. Rohan bet himself that the Cunaxan prince would echo Barig's words, maybe with a "How dare he?" thrown in. But Miyon surprised him. He descended the steps unruffled and unconcerned, a much more telling reaction than if he had stormed into the foyer with loud complaints. Rohan shook his head. The man was too confident, and too arrogant to hide it.

It took Walvis and Feylin both to support Meiglan down the stairs. From his post in the alcove Rohan heard Feylin's gentle encouragements before he actually caught sight of the girl. Her appearance shocked him. She could barely walk. Her bright curls looked crushed, her dark eyes dull and only awake enough to be frightened. She clung to Feylin as Walvis steadied her with an arm around her waist. After the last step she paused, swaying, eyelids fluttering as if she was about to faint.

"Meiglan!"

Her father's roar straightened her body like a whip across her back. Walvis looked murderous; Feylin, disgusted. Rohan was about to step forward and deflect Miyon's wrath when Pol appeared out of nowhere and strode to the girl's side. Deftly he took charge of her from Walvis. But she was too terrified to notice the ident.i.ty of the man whose strong arm now supported her.

Miyon had stopped halfway to her, his upraised hand falling to his side. But he did with words what he did not dare do physically, not with Pol there. "How dare you trouble the Lord and Lady of Remagev with your worthless person!"

Meiglan clutched at Pol's shirt. "Father-I'm sorry-what have I done?"

"G.o.ddess, what stupidity! Did you think this a.s.sembly was called for you?"

It was obvious that she did, that she believed a public humiliation in front of the whole castle would be his ultimate cruelty. The confusion in her drug-hazed eyes slowly gave way to pathetic relief and she sagged against Pol.

He directed a single, quelling look at Miyon, then said, "I'm pleased to see you up and about, my lady."

Rohan expected her to collapse when she recognized Pol. Instead, though she turned even paler if that were possible, she managed to straighten up and compose herself a little. She trusted him. Rohan found that very interesting. And he decided that Miyon and his diarmadhi diarmadhi allies would pay not only for their crimes but for using this innocent child. allies would pay not only for their crimes but for using this innocent child.

As the foyer cleared, he leaned against the wall, hands deep in his pockets, reviewing his next actions one last time. Much depended on his knowledge of the people involved-but he had picked up a taste for gambling from his wife. A tart mental reminder that Sioned never bet except on a sure thing only brought a wry smile to his lips. He couldn't afford to be that cautious. Not now.

Arlis, who had known where he was all along, approached the alcove. "It took a bit longer than I had hoped, but Stronghold is emptied, my lord."

"Good. I hope Barig didn't insult you too much."

Arlis grinned. "I confess he goaded me into a display of bad taste-I had to remind him I'm a prince of Kierst and Isel."

"I excuse you-and I tremble for your dealings with Cabar once you're ruling your island. Instruct five pairs of guards to go through all the rooms a last time. They're to stay together, mind. Oh-and have Myrdal sent to me."

"At once, my lord. I'll make it fast. They're getting restless outside."

"Dear me. And it's such a lovely night," he mused, shaking his head.

Arlis gave a snort. "Six years with you have taught me that tone of voice means you're up to absolutely no good."

"I'll have to remember that if we ever find ourselves on opposite sides of an issue at a Rialla. Rialla. I should've realized it was a bad idea to foster a future ruling prince in my household." I should've realized it was a bad idea to foster a future ruling prince in my household."

"I wouldn't have missed it for anything. I just wish I knew what you were up to this time." The squire left through the main doors to command the search.

Rohan sat on the alcove bench, content still to wait-and to let the others grow as restless as they liked. Pol wanted him to act. Well, it had never been said of him that once he decided a thing, he hesitated in carrying it out. He hoped that one day Pol would understand that a High Prince acted only when he must-and then ruthlessly.

The ten guards came and went through the foyer without noticing him. Myrdal hobbled in a little while after, white hair flowing down her back, dragon-head cane tapping impatiently on the stones.

"Well?" she snapped. "Where are you, boy?"

Rohan emerged from the shadows. "Here. I apologize for disturbing your rest."

The old woman eyed him shrewdly, missing nothing of his black clothes enlivened by touches of Desert blue and gold embroidery. "Dressed as High Prince, I see, while the rest of us are in bed-gowns. Not very subtle, Rohan."

"I'm not dealing with subtle people, Myrdal."

"Granted. Well, then, what do you want of me?"

"Your knowledge. You know places within Stronghold where n.o.body else believes there could be be places." places."

"And you think the sorcerers are hiding in one of them? Hmm. You may be right. This is a very old castle."

"You know it better than I do-and I'm the one who owns it."

"I suppose it's time I told you," she admitted. "Your great-grandsire Prince Zagroy knew all the secrets, but he was a possessive sort and didn't quite trust his son. So he entrusted the knowledge to my mother."

"His illegitimate daughter," Rohan said.

Myrdal grinned at him. "Possibly, possibly. In any case, my mother shared it with me, and I told most of it to Maeta. I thought she'd have a daughter or son of her own to pa.s.s the knowledge to. But it seems I'm the last." She lowered her ancient bones gingerly onto the third step, sighing. "Some of the secrets you know. Can you tell me what they have in common?"

"They operate by hidden catches, they're all built into stone and none into wood, and-" He stopped, staring down at her with his mouth open.

Myrdal nodded. "Never had to think much about it before, have you? The trigger is always marked with a star or a sunburst."

"You've shown me five-no, six. Two with a star, four with a sunburst. For Sorcerers and Sunrunners?"

"Think of how many times this keep has changed hands," she suggested.

"d.a.m.n it, I don't have time for guessing games!"

"Impatience was always a failing of yours," she chided. "You've controlled it remarkably well recently; now isn't the moment to give in. To answer your question, yes, it has to do with who put the secret into the castle. Some are fatal. There's one in the Flametower that lands one rather precipitously in the cellars."

"That's a structural impossibility," he stated.

She only laughed.

"Oh, all right," he said grudgingly. "Were the Sunrunners as lethally inclined?"

"In general, no. My mother had their only death trap walled up and its symbol effaced from the stones. Something to do with a knife-lined floor."

He stared in spite of himself. "Here? In Stronghold?"

She shrugged. "You've kept the peace as High Prince. Times weren't always so easy. When the diarmadh'im diarmadh'im were here, they sought and learned the were here, they sought and learned the faradhi faradhi tricks-a favor the Sunrunners returned when they retook the castle. They went on like that for about thirty years, merrily setting traps for each other." tricks-a favor the Sunrunners returned when they retook the castle. They went on like that for about thirty years, merrily setting traps for each other."

"The histories make no mention of it," he challenged.

"Would you write down all your secrets? I gather you're interested in places that could hold a few people in reasonable comfort."

"I need to find them quickly, Myrdal," he said.

"The sorcerers and their Merida a.s.sa.s.sins specialized in quick escape routes-like the one at the grotto. But hiding holes were put into Stronghold by faradh'im. faradh'im."

Rohan caught his breath. "And they'd need sunlight more than anything else!" He thought rapidly. "An outer wall, then-and southern exposure to get the most light."

"Very good. Help me up, boy."

He did so as the guards returned. Arlis came to him with negative reports. "Not even a stray bedbug, my lord."

"I should think not!" Myrdal sniffed. "Princess Milar spent the first year of her marriage having them all hunted down. Why, I remember-"

Rohan interposed gently, "Arlis, bring my wife and son here, please. I need Lord Chaynal, Lord Maarken, and Lord Riyan as well."

"Yes, my lord."

Myrdal squinted up at him in the gloom. "Have you thought what you'll do when you find your sorcerer?"

He put his hands back into his trouser pockets. "I have an idea or two."

"She'll throw everything she's got at you," the old woman warned.