Both sat up at that, gasping for breath. "Who does he think he is?" Tobin demanded, while Rohan exclaimed, "Leave me a crumb or two, Chay!"

His sister stared at him. "Doesn't it worry you?"

"Not at all." He got to his feet, extending a hand to help her up. She took it, gathered her legs under her-and sat back down hard as he let her fingers slip from his. "Serves you right. You and those d.a.m.ned nails of yours." He rubbed his side.

"Never mind that," she snapped. "What are you going to do about Miyon?"

"Have Sioned ask him in her sweet inimitable way why he intends to miss the proceedings. If his answer amuses me enough, I might even let him leave." He claimed his breakfast tray and carried it to the bed. Seating himself, he began munching on a marsh apple.

"Rohan, you know know he's behind much of this," Tobin insisted. "You can't just let him go!" he's behind much of this," Tobin insisted. "You can't just let him go!"

"Don't worry," Chay soothed. "I don't think any answer would be amusing enough. Unless he admits flat out that he's sure Ruval's going to lose."

"Exactly," said Rohan. "Because Pol said something else last night. You recall Meiglan's hysteria? It's a bit complicated, but she recognized Marron as having met with her father-who also foisted off Mireva on her as a second maidservant. I don't know if Miyon knows that his own daughter gave him to us, but I don't think he wants to wait around here in any case."

Tobin frowned worriedly. "If he does does know, the girl's life is at risk." know, the girl's life is at risk."

"I don't think so," Rohan murmured. "Not when Pol hears."

Chay blinked. "He can't possibly want to marry her!"

"What can we do to stop him?" Tobin fretted.

"Plenty! She's the b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a lying, scheming, power-hungry-"

"So," Rohan said very quietly, "is Pol."

Sioned had spent a weary dawn sitting on the edge of Princess Milar's fountain in the early sunshine. As she had suspected, farad-h'im farad-h'im from Dorval to G.o.ddess Keep itself had heard Ruval's starlit claim and challenge. And their reactions distilled to a single truth: from Dorval to G.o.ddess Keep itself had heard Ruval's starlit claim and challenge. And their reactions distilled to a single truth: If this man wins, there will be war. If this man wins, there will be war.

At least they all realized it. There was unity among Sunrunners such as there had not been since Andrade's death. And how it would gall Andry to know that they rallied in support of Pol, not him.

She splashed water on her face to banish fatigue, plunged her hands over and over into the coolness. Pol had told them last night that he would ride to Rivenrock at sunset to face the challenge. She had plenty of time between now and then to-to do what? Nothing. If it had been necessary to construct the Sunrunner half of the starfire dome, she would have drilled Maarken and Hollis all day in the technique. But Rohan's neutralization of Mireva had canceled the need. Pol had spent part of yesterday reading the Star Scroll and would return to it today. If he asked, she would help. But if he did not ask, she would not offer. Rohan was right; he must do this on his own. It was his testing ground as a prince, as a Sunrunner, as a man.

She ranged out on sunlight once more, out to Rivenrock whence the challenge had come. Measures of flower-strewn Desert stretched below her, the very trail she had ridden thirty years ago this spring. She lingered over the exact spot where she had first seen Rohan, and again saw herself: the untried Sunrunner who had been ordered to marry a prince glimpsed in Fire and Water. The sight of her vision-made-flesh riding toward her across the sere and forbidding landscape had taken her breath away. He could still do that to her sometimes. She could still feel the first rush of joyful, bemused excitement at his presence. With him she had gone places she had never dreamed of going. It's a long journey we've had, my love, It's a long journey we've had, my love, she thought. she thought. We've walked beside each other almost every step of the way. We've walked beside each other almost every step of the way.

Rivenrock Canyon was empty as far as she could tell. But Ruval would be holed up in a cave to escape the day's heat-and prying eyes. Another memory touched her, of the first time she had ever been inside a dragon cave. It had been at the last Hatching Hunt, after she and Rohan had kept Maarken and his twin brother Jahni from a scorching by a terrified little hatchling. Sh.e.l.l shards and slender broken bones had littered the sand within; she wished Ruval a pleasant day amid the remains of a hundred generations of dragons.

She scanned the cliffs carefully for signs of treachery: piles of loose stone that could fall at a sorcerer's thought; a pit dug out and covered by cloth, then camouflaged with plants and sand; rope stretched between rocks that would be nearly invisible by night. There was nothing, and that worried her. Everything she knew and everything she intuited about Ianthe's eldest son pointed to cunning. But then she realized that it was not only as Ianthe's son, Roelstra's grandson, that he would be fighting. His claim was based on his lineage, but his challenge had been to sorcery. And by its arts he would battle Pol until one of them lay dead on the sand among the sunbaked flowers.

Returning to the gardens, she dipped her hands yet again into the cool water, indulging a last memory. It had been here that she had seen Pol for the first time. Vision in Fire and Water of a tiny, perfect son, so obviously Rohan's with his golden hair and finely carved features that her heart had sideslipped in her chest. She had seen herself holding him, nursing him, a welt burned into her shoulder caused by her own Fire. The qualms of last night returned full force. Was it only chance that the scar was not on her shoulder but on her cheek? Or had she truly made some error in bringing that vision to pa.s.s, a mistake born of impatience and too-powerful emotion that would be paid for, not only in the mark on her face but in danger to Pol?

During the long days of watching Ianthe from Stronghold, she had seen the three other children several times. If she had been ruthless enough that night, if she had not concentrated so wholly on Pol, would Ruval, Marron, and Segev have died then? Was the difference in her scars the visible token of a fatal flaw in what she had done?

In such thoughts lay madness. Sioned rose from the fountain and dried her hands on her trousers. What was done was done, and could not be undone. But it terrified her that Pol might suffer for whatever mistake she had made.

She left the gardens for the main courtyard, where horses were being saddled by orange-clad Cunaxans. It was one of Sioned's curses as a public person that her firegold hair was instantly recognizable; she had never been able to mingle anonymously in any crowd, no matter how plainly she was dressed. When Miyon's guards saw her, they stopped working, stopped talking, and practically stopped breathing.

"Good morning," she said to their commander. "I see you're going out on patrol."

"Good morning, your grace. We-ah, that is, I-"

Sioned gave him her blandest smile. "It is is a patrol you're going on, you know." a patrol you're going on, you know."

"Yes, your grace," he replied helplessly.

She nodded and continued sympathetically, "The suspicion cast on your soldiers by recent events must have been most shocking. To find out that not one but two of the ancient race of sorcerers had infiltrated-somehow."

"A-shock, your grace."

"It must be equally a relief to know that your ranks are no longer fouled by their presence. I keep wondering how they got in, though. Granted, sorcery is a powerful tool, but someone must have proposed them to you-perhaps even insisted that you accept them on this important journey."

The man was almost writhing now, but had wits enough to slide past her implication. She expected nothing else; he would not hold so trusted a position in Miyon's guard if he was entirely stupid. But neither, she noted with interest, was he willing to take responsibility from his prince for the hiring of the two. He said, "It's a great relief, your grace, that we are no longer suspect."

"Of course. Still, it would be interesting to know how they managed it." She let him sweat out his reply for a moment, then continued, "Be sure to take time to refresh yourselves today. Like so much in the Desert, the heat can be deceptive."

"I thank your grace." He bowed. She smiled. She was not yet out of hearing range when he gave an explosive sigh of grat.i.tude for his deliverance.

Miyon would not be so easily dealt with, she knew. If she was lucky, he would take a hint and stay at Stronghold without a direct order from the High Princess. She entered the foyer, hoping no argument would be necessary.

But it had already started without her, and in a manner Sioned never would have believed. Meiglan stood at the top of the steps-actively, stubbornly, and absolutely defying her father for the first time in her life.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Miyon was demanding in tones of disbelief rather than anger.

"I'm sorry, Father, but I don't want to leave Stronghold."

"What you want is of less importance than the smallest grain of sand in the Desert! Your things are packed and ready!" He gestured to the servants who tottered slightly under the weight of caskets and satchels. "You're going to get on your horse and-"

"No, I am not."

Sioned blinked, almost as astonished as Miyon. But she was forced to grudging admiration of Meiglan's tactics; perhaps the girl wasn't entirely the fool she seemed. Or perhaps she was no fool at all. The timing and location of her defiance had been nicely planned. She had obviously come along meekly enough-until she had an audience. Sioned had always thought it bad taste and worse policy to conduct a private quarrel in public, though she knew people who argued anywhere they felt like it with what they considered a fine aristocratic disdain for anyone else's opinion. But Meiglan required witnesses-especially the emissary of another prince. Lord Barig stood on the landing in the upper hall, frankly staring as Miyon raised his voice.

"How dare dare you, you little s.l.u.t!" you, you little s.l.u.t!"

She didn't even flinch. Sioned's brows shot up. Perhaps a.s.sociation with women who said and did what they liked without fear of their men had put some backbone into the girl.

"Her grace the High Princess told me I may stay as long as I want," Meiglan said. "And I don't want to leave."

"You don't want-?" he echoed in shock. don't want-?" he echoed in shock.

"What's all the fuss?"

This, mildly and innocently, from Tallain, who arrived with Sionell down the second flight of stairs. Meiglan's face lit momentarily at this new source of strength and support, a light quickly hidden by downcast lashes. Sioned leaned against the newel post, folded her arms, grinned, and shamelessly settled in to watch Tallain do her work for her.

Miyon was grinding his teeth, but managed to be civil. "I have neglected my princedom too long this spring. It's time I left for Castle Pine."

"Left? But surely you must understand how much you're needed here, my lord!" Tallain looked and sounded sincerely troubled. Sioned bit her lip to keep from laughing. Rohan himself couldn't have done it so well. "Lord Barig is fortunately present to carry the truth to his cousin of Gilad, but you're the only other impartial prince at Stronghold and your value as a witness is inestimable."

"That's right," Sionell said, as if she'd just thought of it. "My lord is so very wise." She cast an adoring glance at Tallain, so overdone that it nearly destroyed Sioned's determination not to laugh. "You simply must stay, my lord. Your word will be essential at the Rialla Rialla-a formal inquiry is certain."

"So you see we really must stay, Father," Meiglan added.

"Yes, of course you must," Tallain said. "There will be questions asked that only you can answer, my lord."

Miyon swallowed with some difficulty. And Sioned was pleased to note that even Meiglan understood what questions Tallain referred to. She judged it time to intervene. Smoothing her expression, she started up the stairs.

"Ah, my lord," she said to Miyon, "I've just seen your guard off on patrol. It was very thoughtful of you to add to our safety by sending your own people."

He was trapped and he knew it. She had to admire his recovery as he said with adequate aplomb, "I considered that you and the High Prince have enough to do, and perhaps this person may get careless and be caught."

"We can only hope so," Sioned told him. "I want above all things to hear everything he has to say."

"It should be quite a story." Tallain sighed and shook his head.

Sioned conducted a little experiment. "Tell me, my lord, do you think Princess Chiana was under the influence of sorcery? Nothing else could explain the madness of the attack on Dragon's Rest."

"I think it likely," Miyon said, and in his eyes was a glimmer of hope. Sioned wondered if he really believed they would let him get away with that excuse. But she perceived that he would try it. Although admitting to beguilement would make him appear ridiculous in the eyes of other princes, it would give him a chance to keep his life. She would enjoy watching him squirm before Rohan condemned him to death.

"I think so, too," Tallain put in, aiding and abetting her shamelessly. "Lord Ostvel's report through the Sunrunner Donato regarding the shattering of the mirror-shocking. Sorcery is the only reasonable explanation. No one is so stupid as to believe that their graces of the Desert and Princemarch could be defeated."

Sioned saw Meiglan lower her lashes and turn white. So she could still feel fear-not of her father, but for her father. Amazing. But Sioned could not fault her for it, and, indeed, would have thought less of her had she greeted Miyon's approaching downfall with glee.

The tension following Tallain's last remarks was dissipated by Sionell. She took Meiglan's arm and said, "I was just going for a stroll in the gardens. Won't you come with me?"

"Thank you. I'd like that very much."

The retreat in good order from a victory was gracious, graceful, and sent furious color into Miyon's cheeks. Sioned smiled.

A little while later she had related the whole story to Rohan, Chay, and Tobin. "Cool as a cloud, not just standing up for herself but confident about it, without a trace of the hysterical child. I don't know how it happened, but I wouldn't have missed the sight of Miyon's face for all the gold at Skybowl!"

"You already own all the gold at Skybowl," Chay reminded her, grinning. "But I take your point. So he's staying. Good. Rohan, will you have him executed here or at the Rialla? Rialla?"

"Oh, do wait!" Tobin said, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I wouldn't want to miss hearing him try to explain in front of everyone how it was all due to sorcery."

"Speaking of which. . . ." Sioned hated to wreck the ease brought by laughter, but she had to. "Have any of you seen Pol this morning?"

"Maarken saw him on the way to your office," Chay said. "I a.s.sume he's studying the Star Scroll. And I'm told he now knows everything. You don't think he's fool enough to proclaim his ancestry as further proof of his right to Princemarch, do you?"

"I hope not." Tobin shook her head. "I'm beginning to think you were right all these years, Chay, and I was wrong. He ought to have grown up knowing, so it wouldn't be such a shock to him."

Her lord and husband clapped both hands to his heart. "Fetch a scribe! Find parchment and pen! This is historic-she's admitting to a mistake!"

Sioned met Rohan's gaze. Our mistake, Our mistake, they told each other silently. they told each other silently.

Tobin saw and understood the look. "Stop that at once," she said severely. "We all did what we thought best."

"And now he's paying for it," Sioned murmured.

"I said to stop it and I meant it!" Tobin exclaimed.

Chay added lightly, "I'm sure you can find something better to occupy your minds than what might or should or could have been."

"Don't patronize me," Rohan snapped irritably.

Sioned recognized the warning signs and exchanged a glance with Tobin. But she had to agree with the silent message she received in reply. Leaving Rohan alone would be even worse than keeping him company. Truth be told, none none of them wanted to be left alone to think too much. Pol would ride to Rivenrock at dusk. There was nothing anybody could do until then but wait. It was a thing at which they had all had a great deal of practice. of them wanted to be left alone to think too much. Pol would ride to Rivenrock at dusk. There was nothing anybody could do until then but wait. It was a thing at which they had all had a great deal of practice.

Not that that made it any easier.

As grateful as Meiglan obviously was for Sionell's support and the timely exit she provided, once they reached the grotto it was obvious that the girl wanted to be alone with her excitement. Sionell had certain things to discover first, and went about it as obliquely as she could manage.

"Be careful to stay in the shade-that pale hair of yours is no protection at all from the sun." She touched Meiglan's untidy curls. "Was your mother's hair this color? You don't resemble your father at all."

"My mother was blonde-" Meiglan stopped, her dark fawn's eyes blinking up in confusion. Sionell waited, then smiled as the girl understood her real meaning. "No, I'm nothing like my father."

"I thought not. Why don't you stay here for a little while? Your maid needs the time to unpack your things."

Another meaning to that, as well; this time Meiglan caught at it eagerly. "I don't think she packed much. It was her suggestion that I stay here at Stronghold."

"I see. Well, I hope it's not too much work for her, taking care of you-now that Mireva is no longer available to help her."

Quicker and quicker, Sionell mused. Meiglan comprehended this game. As big eyes grew even bigger, it became an interesting choice between believing her sudden apprehension was real and suspecting it was not. Sionell had given her the opening. It remained to see what she did with it.

Innocent worry clouded Meiglan's face, as expected. But Sionell had not antic.i.p.ated the narrowing of those eyes, the thoughtfulness of the voice, as if she puzzled this out aloud.

"Thanys-she did whatever Mireva told her. She was the senior of them, having been with me over two years, yet she-" Panic again, and honest concern for her servant. "Oh, my lady, do you think she she could have been a victim of sorcery, too?" could have been a victim of sorcery, too?"

"It's possible, I suppose." Sionell hid surprise-and admiration of the clever excuse, if cleverness it was. G.o.ddess, she thought impatiently, when would this child reveal her true coloring?

"I shall have to question her very closely," Meiglan went on, seemingly oblivious to her companion's irritation. "Or should I ask someone else to do it? Tell me what to do, my lady."

"As you think best," Sionell replied, more sharply than she'd intended. "You are, after all, a lady who holds a manor in your own right. Your servants are your responsibility."

"But I don't know how!" the girl burst out. "I watched you at Tiglath-and the High Princess and the others here-you never have to give an order twice, sometimes you don't have to give them at all! I can't be like you, I don't know how to be a great lady or even a little one!"

"Yet you see and understand the way we do things. It's not difficult, Meiglan." Sionell gave a little shrug. This was no time for lessons in highborn ways. Was that why she wanted to stay here at Stronghold, to learn how to be a High Princess? Stop it! Stop it!

"No one would ever obey me," Meiglan said sadly.

"Oh, I don't know. You did a good piece of work on your father today."

A tiny smile hovered around her mouth. "Yes-I did, didn't I?" In a rush, clasping a startled Sionell's hand, she went on, "I couldn't have, not without you and Lord Tallain and the High Princess-I was so frightened, I was sure he'd beat me right in front of all of you. But I stood up to him, didn't I? I said what I wanted-oh, Sionell, I was so angry! He used me against all of you, who've been so kind to me-he gave me all those jewels and pretty clothes and the fenath, fenath, and he was only trying to-" and he was only trying to-"