The servant opened the box, revealing an exquisite chatelaine of formed gold set with emeralds. Muriel widened her smile, allowing her teeth to show a bit. "It is exquisite," she said. "But how can I accept it? I already wear the chatelaine of the house Dare. I cannot wear two."

Aradal's face finally colored a bit. "Your Majesty, let me be frank. The friendship my lord Berimund offers is of the most affectionate sort. He would make you his bride, and one day Queen of Hansa."

"Oh, dear," Muriele said. "More and more generous. When did the prince conceive this great love for me? I am flattered beyond all words. That a woman of my years can excite such passions-" She broke off, knowing that she was only seconds away from saying the words that might start a war. She stopped, and breathed deeply before continuing.

"The gift is exquisite," she said. "Yet I fear that my grief is too fresh for me to accept it. If the prince is honest in his intentions, I beg that he give me time to recover before pressing his suit."

Aradal bowed, then stepped nearer, lowering his voice. "Majesty," he whispered, "do not be unwise. You may not believe me, but I not only respected your husband, I liked him. I am only a messenger-I do not set in motion the affairs of state in Hansa. But I know something of your situation here, and it is a tenuous one. In these times, you must look to your security. It is what William would have wanted."

Muriele dropped her voice low to match the archgreft's. "Do not presume to speak for my husband's ghost," she said. "He has not been cold for very long. This offer, at this time, is inappropriate. You know that, Aradal. I have told you I will consider it, and I will. That is the best I can do, for the moment."

Aradal's voice dropped still lower, as everyone in the chamber strained to perceive the faint conversation. Muriele felt five hundred gazes needling at her, looking to see what new advantage they might find in this.

"I agree, lady, that the timing is inopportune," Aradal admitted. "It is not how I would have chosen to do things. But time is against us all. The world brims with war and treachery. If you will not think of your security, think of your people. With everything that has happened, does Crotheny need a war?"

Muriele frowned. "Is that a threat, archgreft?"

"I would never threaten you, lady. I feel nothing but compassion for your situation. But it is not a threat to look at dark clouds and guess that a storm is coming. It is not a threat to council a friend to seek shelter."

"You are a friend," Muriele lied. "I see that. I will consider your council most sincerely, but I cannot, will not give you an answer today."

Aradal looked grim, but he nodded. "As you wish, Majesty. But if I were you, Your Highness, I would not delay for long."

"You will not delay another second," Sir Fail de Liery roared, his face so red with fury that his hair might have been a plume of white smoke drifting up from it. "You will tell that puffed-up oyster from Hansa that you utterly reject any overture from his thimble-headed prince."

Muriele watched her uncle pace like a chained birsirk for a moment. The court was over, and they were in her private solar, a room as airy and open as the court was cold and hard.

"I must appear to consider all offers," she said.

"No," he replied, pointing a finger, "that is certainly not true. You cannot contemplate delivering-or even appear appear to consider delivering-the Kingdom and Empire of Crotheny to Marcomir's heir." to consider delivering-the Kingdom and Empire of Crotheny to Marcomir's heir."

Muriele rolled her eyes. "What heir? Even if I were to marry him, I would still have to produce one. Even if I had a mind to-and I do not-do you honestly think I could, at my age?"

"It doesn't matter," Sir Fail snapped. "There are wheels within wheels turning here. Marrying you gives them the throne in all but name." He pounded the casement of the window with the heel of his hand. "You must marry Lord Selqui," he snapped.

Muriele raised an eyebrow. "Must I?" she said coldly.

"Yes, you must. It is entirely the best course of action, and I should think you would see that."

She rose, her fists balling so tightly that her nails cut into her palms. "I have listened now to five marriage proposals, with William's breath still warm on the wind. I have been as patient and gracious as I can be. But you are more than a foreign envoy, Fail de Liery. You are my uncle. My blood. You put me on your knee when I was five and told me it was the waterhorse, and I laughed like any child and loved you. Now you have become just one of them them, another man coming into my house, telling me what I must do. I will not have this from you you, Uncle. I am no longer a little girl, and you will not not impose upon my affection." impose upon my affection."

Fail's eyes widened, and then his features softened a bit. "Muriele," he said, "I'm sorry. But as you say, we are blood. You are a de Liery. The rift between Crotheny and Liery is growing. It isn't your fault-something William was up to. Did you know he lent ships to Saltmark in their battles against the Sorrow Isles?"

"That is a rumor," Muriele said. "It is also rumored that Lierish archers killed my husband."

"You cannot believe that. The evidence for that was obviously contrived."

"At this point, you cannot imagine what I would believe," Muriele said.

Fail seemed to bite back a retort, then sighed. He suddenly looked ancient, and for a moment she wanted nothing more than to hug him, feel that rough old cheek against hers.

"Whatever the cause," Fail said, "the problem remains. You can heal this wound, Muriele. You can bring our nations back together."

"And you think Liery and Crotheny together can stand against Hansa?"

"I know that alone, neither of us can."

"That isn't what I asked."

He puffed his cheeks out and nodded.

"I am a de Liery," she said. "I am also a Dare. I have two children left, and both are heirs to this throne. I must protect it for them."

Fail's voice gentled further. "It is well known that Charles cannot get a child."

"Thank the saints, or I should be dealing with proposals for his his hand." hand."

"Then when you speak of heirs, you mean Anne. Muriele, William's legitimization of his daughters has little precedent. The Church is against it-Praifec Hespero has already begun a campaign to annul the law. Even if it stands, what if Anne . . ." He stumbled, his lips thinning. "What if Anne is also dead?"

"Anne is alive," Muriele said.

Fail nodded. "I dearly hope Anne is still alive. Nevertheless, there are other heirs to consider, and you know they are are being considered." being considered."

"Not by me."

"It may not be up to you."

"I will die long before I see one of Ambria Gramme's bastards put on the throne."

Fail smiled grimly. "She is a very political animal," he said. "She has won over more than half the Comven to her cause, as you must know. Muriele, you must be reconciled, both with the Comven and with your father's people. This is not the time to further divide Crotheny."

"Nor is it the time to return it to Lierish rule," she said.

"That is not what I am proposing."

"That is precisely what you are proposing."

"Muriele, dear, something must be done. Things cannot continue as they are. Charles does not-will never-hold the people's trust. They know the saints have touched him, and in gentler times, they might not care. But terrible things are happening, things beyond our understanding. Some say the end of the world is upon us. They want a strong leader, a certain one. And there is still the fact that he cannot father an heir."

"Anne could be a strong leader."

"Anne is a willful child, and all the kingdom knows it. Besides, with each passing day, the rumor is growing that Anne shares her sisters' fate. The dangers on your borders are multiplying. If you do not give Hansa the throne by marriage, they will take it by force. Only their hopes and the feeble worry that the Church might intervene have delayed them this long."

"I know all of this," Muriele said wearily.

"Then you know you must act, before they do."

"I cannot act rashly. Even if I were to marry Selqui, it would anger as many as it would please. More. If I spurn the offer from Hornladh, they might well join Hansa against us. There is no clear course for me here, Sir Fail.

"Your course is made clear by your loyalties. Mine is made invisible by mine. I need real council, real options, not this continued pressure from every direction. I need one single person I can count on, one person who has no loyalties other than to me." course is made clear by your loyalties. Mine is made invisible by mine. I need real council, real options, not this continued pressure from every direction. I need one single person I can count on, one person who has no loyalties other than to me."

"Muriele-"

"No. You know you cannot be that. Lierish seawater flows in your veins. As much as I love you, you know I cannot trust you here. I wish I could, but I cannot."

"Then whom can you trust?"

Muriele felt a solitary tear start in her eye and roll down her cheek. She turned so he would not see it. "No one, of course. Please leave me, Sir Fail."

"Muriele-" She could hear his voice break with emotion.

"Go," she said.

A moment later, she heard the door close. She went to the window, gripped the frame with her fingers, and wondered how sunlight could seem so dark.

CHAPTER TEN.

OSPERO.

CAZIO STEPPED BETWEEN A ANNE and Ospero. He didn't raise his sword to guard, but he did keep it in front of him. and Ospero. He didn't raise his sword to guard, but he did keep it in front of him.

"As I told those other fellows," he said firmly, "these ladies are under my protection. I am no more willing to give them up to you than I was to them."

Ospero's eyes tightened, and he suddenly seemed very dangerous indeed, even without the twenty-odd men gathered behind him.

"Careful how you talk to me, boy," he said. "There are many things you do not know."

"There certainly are," Cazio responded. "I do not know how many seeds there are in a pomegranate. I do not know what sort of hats they wear in Herilanz. I've no understanding whatever of the language of dogs, and I cannot tell you how a water pump works. But I know I have sworn to protect these two ladies, and protect them I will."

"I've made no threat to your charges," Ospero said. "On the other hand, they have become a threat to me. When swordsmen from Northside come into my my town, I am very much concerned. When I am forced to act against them, it is even more my concern. Now I have to kill them all and sink their bodies in the marsh, and I need to know if anyone will miss them. I need to know town, I am very much concerned. When I am forced to act against them, it is even more my concern. Now I have to kill them all and sink their bodies in the marsh, and I need to know if anyone will miss them. I need to know who who will miss them, and who, if anyone, will come to look for them. And most of all, I need to know why they came here in the first place." will miss them, and who, if anyone, will come to look for them. And most of all, I need to know why they came here in the first place."

"And the reward does not concern you?" Cazio asked skeptically.

"We haven't gotten to that yet," Ospero said.

"Nor shall we," Cazio replied. "Now, kindly send your men away."

"Boy-," Ospero began.

"I don't know who they were," Anne blurted. "I only know someone wants me dead and is willing to pay for it. I can't answer any of your other questions, because I don't know know the answers. I thank you for your help against those men, Ospero. I believe you are a gentleman at heart, and that you will not take advantage of the situation." the answers. I thank you for your help against those men, Ospero. I believe you are a gentleman at heart, and that you will not take advantage of the situation."

Ospero graveled out a laugh, and many of his men echoed it. "I'm no gentleman," he said. "That, above all, you can be sure of."

Cazio raised his sword deliberately.

"You don't want to do that, boy," Ospero said.

"I think I know better than you what I want to do," Cazio replied haughtily.

Ospero nodded slightly. Then he moved with astonishing speed, dropping and whipping his leg out so that he clipped Cazio's leading foot. Cazio spun half around, and Ospero stood and almost lazily took his sword arm and twisted it so the sword fell clattering to the ground. As if by magic, a knife appeared in his other hand and flashed up to Cazio's throat.

"I think," Ospero said, "you've need of a lesson in respect."

"He's in need of many lessons of that sort," a new voice said.

"Z'Acatto!" Austra shouted.

It was indeed the old man, shuffling down the street toward them. "What do you plan to do with him, Ospero?" z'Acatto asked.

"I'm just deciding whether to bleed him out quickly or slowly."

"Do your worst," Cazio gritted.

"I'd say to do it quickly," z'Acatto advised. "He's likely to make a long-winded speech otherwise."

"I can see that," Ospero mused.

"Z'Acatto!" Cazio yelped.

The old man sighed. "You'd better let him go."

Anne braced herself. She knew that despite his appearance, z'Acatto was a mestro of the sword, and also that he had a deep love for Cazio. He wouldn't let the younger man die without a fight. Could she summon the power of Cer again, blind Ospero, and make him drop the knife? She would have to try, for all their sakes.

But to her surprise Ospero took the knife away and stepped back. "Of course, Emratur."

Cazio looked shocked. "Emratur?" he asked. "What is this? Emratur?"

"Hush, boy," z'Acatto muttered. "Just be glad you're alive." He turned to Ospero. "We'll need to talk in private," he said.

Ospero nodded. "It would seem there are things you did not tell me."

Z'Acatto nodded, too. "Cazio, take the casnaras back to the room. I'll join you there shortly."

"But-"

"Don't argue for once," z'Acatto said bluntly.

Ospero's men dispersed as the two older men walked off together.

Cazio watched them go, sighed, and sheathed Caspator. "I wish I knew what that was about," he said.