The Princess waved a dismissive hand. "I don't want a bunch of soldiers hovering over me the entire time. It will draw unnecessary attention."

"You mean it will ruin your fun," Talon grumbled under her breath, and Shasta spun to glare at her.

"Just having you around is going to be bad enough. If Father hadn't permanently attached you to my shadow I wouldn't be bringing you along either." Shasta paused, and her tone softened. "Really, Talon, there's nothing to worry about. I'm going to borrow some of Erinda's clothes and dress up like a serving girl. Lyris and Bria, too. We'll pose as the chancellor's attendants, and he'll give us a tour of Ardrenn dressed like a merchant. No one will have any idea who we are."

"Well, the disguise is a good idea, but, Highness," Talon dropped her voice so that only the Princess could hear her, "your brother was killed in full view of the entire court, surrounded by royal guard. You're talking about walking into the middle of the city with almost no protection."

"Well, that's what I have you for, isn't it?" Shasta reached for her ladies' hands. "Come, let's go find Erinda and put our costumes together."

Talon met Vaughn's eyes helplessly and moved to follow the giggling girls from the lesson hall, but was stopped by a hand at her shoulder and a low voice in her ear.

"You shouldn't be so concerned," Kumire sniveled over her shoulder. "I've been a student of the sword since I was a child, and I'm perfectly capable of protecting Her Royal Highness myself. Between their disguises and my blade, we won't even need you, Outlander."

Talon fixed Kumire with a cool stare. "This entire trip is folly, Chancellor, and it's for that very reason that I'm going. Someone has to protect the Princess from your poor judgment."

She marched from the room, leaving the Monderan chancellor to sputter in her wake.

"You're so lucky, to be allowed to wear these every day," Shasta mused, straightening the waistband of the brown roughspun split skirts she'd borrowed from her chambermaid. "They're so comfortable."

"I barely get away with it as it is," the chambermaid replied with amusement, marking a spot on the waistband with a pin where it needed to be taken in. "Most of the palace servants pride themselves that they don't have to wear them. Nurse always scolds me because of the way I dress, but it's easier to carry a chamber pot up and down the palace stairs when my legs are free."

Bria shook her head as Erinda hovered around Shasta, making additional alterations to the borrowed outfit. "Your Highness, are you sure you want to wear those? There are other servants in the palace who are closer to your size, and their clothes wouldn't need to be taken in..."

Shasta flashed her companions a grin. "But Erinda's the only one who wears split skirts every day." Lyris and Bria exchanged dubious glances, and the Princess snickered. "What's the matter, you don't like them?" She could easily guess the answer, but unlike the other ladies of court she did not share the opinion that split skirts were only for the most menial of laborers.

Lyris blushed lightly. "It's only that...well, they're not very ladylike."

"We thought only servants and farmer's wives wore those," Bria chimed in quickly. "Aren't they a little...common, for you, Princess?" Erinda cleared her throat, and Bria quickly inclined her head to the chambermaid. "Of course I mean you no offense, Erinda."

"Of course," the chambermaid replied dryly, but there was humor in her tone.

Shasta laughed again. "Looking common is the whole idea. And when else will I have the opportunity to wear split skirts in public without riding horseback? I'd wear these things every day if they'd let me. They're so much easier to move in." To demonstrate her point, she gave a kick that nearly toppled the dressing mirror and produced appalled squeaks of disapproval from her companions. "You'll see. When I become queen I'm going to make these the new court fashion."

Bria still appeared doubtful and straightened her own gray dress with a sigh. "I do wish we could have chosen more elegant disguises," she complained. "The chancellor gets to be a merchant, so why can't we?"

Lyris patted her sister's arm. "Because we don't want to take any chances. It's important to keep the Princess from being recognized."

Bria sighed again. "I suppose. But these clothes are just so...drab, aren't they?"

"You're just worried because you want to make a good impression on Chancellor Kumire," Shasta teased.

Bria flushed but made no effort to deny it. "You can't blame me for hoping to catch his eye. He's only the most handsome man in Ithyria."

Talon groaned audibly and closed the book in his lap, interrupting the conversation for the first time. "Bria, what in the name of the Goddess has gotten into you lately? Every chance you get, you're batting your eyes at the chancellor instead of concentrating on your lessons. You're only fifteen winters in age, little sister. It's too soon to be sighing over some spineless viceroy's son."

Bria's mouth dropped open. "How dare you!"

"I mean it, Bria." Talon rose from his seat by the window. "I want you to stop."

"Both of you stop," Lyris interrupted, her voice calm but firm. "I'm tired of you two arguing about this all the time. Bria, Talon's right, you really ought to tone it down with the chancellor. He's our tutor, not your personal Prince Charming. And, Talon, you really have to stop being so overprotective." She touched the sleeve of Talon's uniform. "I know you care about us, and you worry because you care, but the chancellor's harmless. Just because he doesn't wear a sword and swagger around all the time doesn't mean he's not a good man."

Shasta observed this little family spat with a pang of envy. Most of the time the three siblings treated her like she was one of them, but moments like this reminded her that blood was thicker than water.

"Well, personally, I agree with Talon," she said, ignoring Bria's squeak of protest. "Kumire may be my cousin, but I've never liked him much. He's...slithery." She caught her guardian's amused smile and returned one of her own before changing the subject. "Now come on, let's get dressed for dinner. I'm starved."

The markets of Ardrenn were an entirely new experience for the Princess, who constantly turned this way and that, gazing out from beneath the deep hood of her cloak as their little party wound up and down dusty streets lined with shops and small carts. It was a cool day in early winter, and the wind had a slight chill, but the weather was still pleasant enough for business. A thousand intermingled smells, of cooking food and rotting fruit and horse excrement, blended together in a combination that was as fascinating as it was disgusting. Merchants shouted at the people passing by, shoving scarves and jewelry under their noses and promising values that their competition could not match.

Kumire pointed out particular carts and shops, telling the girls whether the wares were cultivated, handmade, or imported, and how that affected their cost and value to the customer. Talon followed behind, the chancellor's voice a nonsensical murmur at the back of her mind. Her eyes darted from face to face, every muscle in her body tight. She'd expected to be nervous, walking around in the open like this, but she hadn't anticipated this level of anxiety. She almost felt sick to her stomach.

"Is everything all right?" Lyris's small hand slid into hers. "You're looking a little green."

Talon shook her head. "I just...I can't shake the feeling that something terrible is going to happen today."

"But, Talon, everything's going so well." Lyris cast a look around them as they moved through the crowded street. "No one seems to suspect a thing, and the Princess is having such a good time. Look."

Talon did her best to draw some reassurance from her sister's words. She could see that few of the passersby gave their small party more than a cursory glance; a merchant with a small group of assistants was hardly an unusual sight. And Shasta seemed utterly fascinated, even elated by the entire experience. In spite of the hood shadowing her charge's face, Talon could almost feel tangible enthusiasm pouring off the Princess in waves. She was drinking in the sights and smells, tugging impatiently at the hood that blocked her peripheral vision. She probably would have removed it entirely were it not for Talon's stern grunt every time she pushed it back a bit too far. She had to smile, but only faintly.

Lyris squeezed her fingers. "It's going to be fine, Talon, really."

"I hope you're right."

After another two hours of meandering between shops, carts, and stands of varied goods, Talon's nerves were so on edge that she nearly jumped when Shasta suddenly leaned against her shoulder. The Princess looked fatigued, and Talon immediately turned to Kumire. "Chancellor, we should rest awhile. Her Highness is tired."

Shasta attempted to protest, but Kumire nodded quickly. "Forgive me, ladies, I know you must be hungry. We will retire to that pub over there." He indicated a gaily painted building with a hanging sign depicting a chubby, notably topless mermaid swinging over the door. "You'll be able to rest your feet and experience a typical meal of the common folk."

Bria quickly latched herself onto one of the chancellor's arms, and he led them through the pub's open double doors. A matronly woman bustled up to them with a cheerful grin that split her face ear to ear.

"Well now, my lord," she greeted Kumire, offering a nod to the girls behind him, "welcome to the Siren's Song Tavern!" She caught sight of Talon and the sword and knife at her belt.

Talon could hardly wear her uniform while accompanying the disguised Princess, and so she had insisted on wearing the garb of a mercenary. It was not uncommon for merchants to hire a blade to attend them while doing business in town, and in this guise Talon could carry a sword without incurring unusual attention.

Far from impressed, the hostess said, "Sir, I'm afraid weapons are not allowed here. I must ask you to leave them by the door."

Talon put a protective hand on her sword hilt and the woman sighed, looking to Kumire for help. "My lord, I really must insist that your man there remove his blades or else wait outside. I run a respectable, peaceful business here and we're not looking for any trouble."

"Of course, madam," Kumire replied smoothly and jerked his head at Talon.

She tightened her grip on the sword, but Shasta gave her a warning glare and flicked her eyes in the direction of the weapon rack. With a sigh of annoyance, Talon marched to the rack by the door and removed her sword and the knife in her belt. At the tavern hostess's frown, she sighed again and pulled another knife from the inside of her vest and one from each of her boots, dropping them with the others. Still the woman did not look satisfied, and with an irritated mutter, Talon rolled up her sleeve and removed the small dagger strapped to her forearm.

Shasta watched her produce these blades, seemingly from nowhere, and her eyes grew larger and larger as the pile on the rack grew bigger. "Goddess, did you have to bring along the entire armory?"

Talon did not reply, but instead stared so intently at Shasta that the Princess seemed to grow nervous. The tavern hostess beckoned them to follow her to a table and benches in the corner of the room. They took their seats, and as she did so Shasta's stomach rumbled loudly.

"I forgot to eat breakfast this morning," she explained with chagrin.

"Well, miss, we'll soon have you fixed right up," the hostess assured cheerily. "Perhaps you'd like to try the spiced beef tongue? It's our afternoon special, very fresh."

Shocked revulsion filled the Princess's face. "You eat tongues?"

Talon almost laughed at the horror in her voice. Kumire appeared equally disgusted.

Pointing at a nearby table, he said, "Just bring us whatever it is those gentlemen over there are having."

"Five bowls of pheasant stew." The hostess gave a little curtsy. "Right away, my lord." She scuttled off, and a few minutes later the tavern girls delivered large wooden bowls filled with a thick, greasy brown substance and hunks of dark bread.

Pheasant was often served at the palace, and the Princess eagerly pushed her hood back and lifted the spoon to her lips. But Talon reached out and took the utensil from her hand, sniffing at it suspiciously. Shasta gave a frustrated sigh.

"Give that back, Talon, I'm hungry."

"In a moment, I just need to be sure..."

Shasta interrupted with a little growl and snatched the spoon away.

"Princess, it might not be safe-"

"I don't want to hear it. I'm starving, and you're being silly. There's nothing wrong with the food. See?"

Before Talon could stop her, the Princess put a big spoonful in her mouth. Talon sprang up in alarm as Shasta's smug expression abruptly became one of startled pain and she choked a little. Waving Talon away, she reached for a mug of water and drank deeply. It took Talon several moments to realize she had not been poisoned but had simply burned her tongue. Slowly Talon sat down again, wishing for the hundredth time that they had never embarked on this absurd adventure.

Shasta took another sip from the mug before speaking. "Talon, you have to relax a little. Please? You're taking all the fun out of this for me."

Her words brought a touch of guilt, but Talon shook her head. "I'm sorry. Truly I am, but...it's my job to worry. You're in danger here."

Shasta gave her an incredulous look. "Here? In this tavern, sitting at this table, wearing a servant's split skirt and apron, eating a bowl of stew with my personal bodyguard attached to my hip? Look around us, Talon, no one's so much as sneezed in our direction. No one knows I'm here, I'm essentially invisible."

Talon shook her head. "I can't explain it, Highness, but...I feel it. Something bad is coming."

"Nothing's coming." Shasta took another mouthful of the stew, this time blowing on it several times before putting it in her mouth. She jabbed at Talon's untouched bowl with the end of her spoon. "Now eat."

But Talon couldn't. Her stomach was tied in knots and she couldn't concentrate on food with so many people milling around them. Several times when someone passed a little too close behind the Princess's seat Talon rose sharply, only to be tugged back down again by Lyris's firm hand. Bria kept heaving exaggerated sighs and Kumire simply glowered as though Talon were sabotaging the outing on purpose. But even though no one actually made a threatening move toward their little party, Talon's anxiety did not subside.

"We should have brought a guard unit," she muttered under her breath and received an elbow in the ribs from the Princess that she scarcely felt.

The food and rest seemed to be exactly what Shasta needed to restore her usual cheerful energy, and she chatted animatedly with her companions as they finished their meal, all former weariness apparently forgotten. As the tavern hostess passed by their table, Shasta caught her arm.

"Pardon me, but do you have a," she paused, "a privy chamber that I might use?"

Talon frowned, tempted to object, but she could hardly forbid the Princess from relieving herself before they had returned to the palace. It was a long ride back, and Shasta was unaccustomed to waiting.

The busty woman stared. "Well, aren't we just the queen of all Ithyria," she chuckled finally. "That's a fancy tongue you've got there, little miss. We don't have, uh, a privy chamber here, but there's an outhouse if you have need of it." She jerked her thumb toward the back door.

"Thank you." Shasta stood, and Talon rose to join her.

"Sit down, boy!" Kumire exclaimed. "You can't follow her out there."

Talon glared at him. "It's my duty."

"Talon, be reasonable." Bria covered the chancellor's hand with her own. "You're supposed to be Chancellor Kumire's hired sword, remember? How would it look for you to abandon your master in order to follow his maid outside?"

The words barely registered. Talon's attention was fixed on her little sister's hand resting atop Kumire's. When his thumb moved to caress the tops of Bria's fingers, Talon snatched Bria's arm and forced the pair apart. "Goddess, Bria, you're in public. And you," she glared murderously at the chancellor, "keep your hands off my sister."

Kumire widened his eyes in a show of ignorance. "Really, boy, you're far too excitable this afternoon. Your imagination is getting the better of you."

"I hate you," Bria balefully informed Talon, her face bright red.

Lyris, the peacemaker, quickly stood. "All right, you two, now is not the time or the place. Talon, you have other things to worry about right now. And Bria," she fixed the younger girl with a cool stare, "when we get back to the palace you and I are going to have a talk."

Talon looked around with alarm, realizing that in the disturbance the Princess had disappeared. She must have gone to find the outhouse on her own. Cursing, she hurried to the weapons rack to retrieve her sword and smaller knives.

The hostess clucked her tongue disapprovingly as Talon strode out of the tavern, sword clanking. The outhouse was a small, narrow hut not far from the back door. Its distinct, pungent odor made Talon wrinkle her nose in distaste. She couldn't imagine the Princess using such an amenity.

Appalled, she rapped on the decaying door. "Your Highness?"

When there was no reply, she knocked again but was greeted only with silence. With growing alarm, Talon yanked on the door handle and lurched back as the door swung wide. The outhouse was empty.

A surge of panic flooded her limbs and she looked around frantically. If someone had taken the Princess, there should be tracks. Talon began examining the hard-packed earth beneath her feet for any sign of a struggle. It was then that a familiar voice tore through the air.

"What in the name of the Goddess do you think you're doing? Stop that at once!"

"Shasta." Talon drew her sword and sprinted toward the Princess's screams.

Chapter Six.

Shasta had been less than impressed by the tavern's toilet facilities. She'd never used such a dirty, stinking little building before. She didn't even want to make contact with the rough wood seat, let alone insult her delicate skin by using the coarse leaves stacked on the filthy planks of the floor. But, gritting her teeth, she'd told herself that it was all part of the rustic, commoner experience. If her people could relieve themselves in such a place, so could she, and besides, she simply could not bear the pain of her straining bladder any longer.

As she stepped from the outhouse, looking forward to her evening bath, a disturbance caught her attention. She heard several loud cracking noises and a woman's cries of pain.

Running toward the source of the clamor, Shasta descended the low hill behind the outhouse and was shocked to see a man standing in the road with a long black bullwhip, repeatedly striking a woman in a shabby, nearly threadbare dress. Nearby lay an overturned basket and a few heads of lettuce scattered in the dirt. The woman cried out as the whip tore through the thin fabric of her bodice, leaving long, bleeding welts, and as she rolled a bit to her side, trying to avoid the biting blows, Shasta blanched. The woman being beaten was very obviously pregnant.

Shasta bolted toward them, joining the ranks of the crowd that had already begun to gather to watch the spectacle. "What in the name of the Goddess do you think you're doing?" she shrieked, stepping between the man and his unfortunate victim and throwing her arms out to halt his attack. "Stop that at once!"

"Little wench! Get out of the way." The man spat on the ground. He was evidently a merchant, by the finery of his coat and trousers.

"I most certainly will not!" Shasta glared indignantly. "How dare you speak to me that way. Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Don't know, don't care." He might have recognized her, or at least the famous amber eyes and hair that marked a member of the house of Rane, had he taken the time to look. But he didn't seem capable of seeing anything beyond her shabby maid's disguise. Ignoring her protests, he raised his arm again, shouting, "I warned you!"

Shasta almost thought she imagined hearing a low growl just before a familiar hand caught the bullwhip. Instead of striking her, the thin leather whip snaked around her guardian's forearm in a coil.