"The fault isn't yours," Gramme replied. "Mery simply forgot to tell me. Didn't you, Mery?"

"I'm sorry, Mama."

"As you should be. Fralet Ackenzal is an important man. I'm sure he doesn't have time for you."

"Oh, no," Leoff replied. "As I said, she's a wonderful student."

"I'm sure she is. But at present my funds do not allow for the cost of tutoring."

"I ask for no compensation," Leoff said. "My expenses at the court are taken care of." He waved his hands helplessly. "I would hate to see her talent go to waste."

"She has talent, you think?"

"I assure you. Would you like to hear her play something?"

"Oh, no," Gramme said, still smiling. "I've no ear at all, I'm told. I trust your judgment."

"Then you won't mind?"

"How could I refuse such a kind gesture?" Her lips pursed. "But still, it puts me in your debt. You must let me make it up to you somehow."

"That's not necessary," he said, trying very hard to keep his voice from breaking.

"No, I know just the thing. I'm having a small fete on Saint Bright's Eve. You're new here, and could do with some introductions, I'm sure. I insist you attend."

"That's very kind, lady."

"Not at all. It's the least I can do for someone who indulges my little Mery. There, it's settled." Her gaze shifted. "Mery, when you've finished your lessons, come to my apartments, will you?"

"Yes, Mama," the girl replied.

"Good day to you, then," Gramme said.

"Good day to you, Lady Gramme."

"You might call me Ambria," she replied. "Most of my friends do."

Mery left a bell later, and Leoff returned to his work, a tense excitement growing in his belly. It felt right, it felt perfect, the way his composition was growing. It felt important, too, but that consideration he tried to keep at a distance. If he thought about that that too much, the task grew daunting. too much, the task grew daunting.

Toward vespers, he heard footsteps and a small rap at his door. He found Artwair standing there, dressed much as when he had first met him, in traveling clothes.

"My lord!" he said, reaching for his crutches.

"No, no, keep your seat," Artwair said. "Surely we've no need for that."

Leoff smiled, realizing just how good it was to see the duke again.

"How are you getting along, Leoff?" Artwair asked, taking a seat on a stool.

"The queen came to see me," he said. "She's commissioned a work, and it's going-well, very well. I'm very hopeful for it."

Artwair looked a bit surprised. "What sort of a work? Not a requiem, I hope."

"No, something much more exciting. I tell you, it's something that has never been done before."

Artwair raised an eyebrow. "So? Well, have a care, my friend. Sometimes the new isn't always the best thing for the moment. The local clergy is already muttering about you."

Leoff waved that away. "The queen has confidence in me. That's all I care about."

"The queen is not the only power to be reckoned with in this court."

"It can hardly be worse than Broogh," Leoff said.

"It most certainly can," Artwair said, his voice suddenly as serious as Leoff had ever heard it. "These days, it most certainly can."

Leoff forced a chuckle. "Well, I'll try to keep that in mind. But it is is a commission, you know, and from the queen." He paused, again taking in Artwair's clothing. In the court he had dressed in brocades and linens. "Are you traveling soon?" he asked. a commission, you know, and from the queen." He paused, again taking in Artwair's clothing. In the court he had dressed in brocades and linens. "Are you traveling soon?" he asked.

"Yes, actually, I've just stopped in to tell you good-bye. There's a bit of trouble in the east I've been asked to handle."

"More wayward musicians?"

Artwair shook his head. "No, something a little more demanding, I'm afraid. The queen has asked me take an army there."

Leoff's heart stuttered a beat. "Are we at war? Is it Hansa?"

"I'm not sure it's war, and I don't think its Hansa. Some of the locals have turned into man-eaters, it seems."

"What?"

"Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? People running around naked, rending their neighbors limb from limb. At first it was hard to credit, even when the praifec said it was true. Now-well, several villages have been destroyed, but last nineday they killed everyone in Slifhaem."

"Slifhaem? I've been there. It's a town of some size, with a fortress." He paused. "Did you say naked naked?"

"That's how we hear it, and more of them every day. The praifec says it's some sort of witchery. All I know is, I'm to go and put a stop to it before they go pouring into the Midenlands."

Leoff shook his head. "And you're warning me me to have a care." to have a care."

"Well, I'd rather take the field any day and see my death coming on the edge of a sword than die from the nick of a pin or a goblet of poisoned wine here in Eslen," he said. "Besides, I'll be strapped in armor with a good sword in my hand and have five hundred excellent men around me. I don't reckon a bunch of naked madmen will have much chance to do me in."

"What if they have creatures with them, like the basil-nix? What if it's the Briar King himself driving them on, making them mad?"

"Well, I'll kill him, too, for good measure," Artwair said. "Meantime-ho, what's this?"

Leoff watched as Artwair picked up a shawl from the carpet.

"You've been making a few acquaintances, auy?" Artwair said, winking. "The sort that gets comfortable enough to leave things lying about?"

Leoff smiled. "Not of the sort you mean, I'm afraid. Mery must have left that."

"Mery?"

"One of my students. Lady Gramme's daughter."

Artwair stared at him, then gave a low whistle. "That is is interesting company," Artwair commented. interesting company," Artwair commented.

"Yes, I got that reaction from the queen, as well," Leoff said.

"I should think so."

"But she's a delightful child," Leoff said, "and an excellent student."

Artwair's eyes widened. "You don't know who she is?"

"Yes, I just told you-Ambria Gramme's daughter."

"Auy, but do you know who she she is?" is?"

Leoff had a sudden sinking feeling. "Well-no, not exactly," he said.

"You are pleasantly naive, Leovigild Ackenzal," the duke said.

"A role I'm growing tired of."

"Then you might ask a few questions, now and then. The lady Gramme is the girl's mother, yes. I might better say, she is the daughter of Ambria Gramme and the late King William the Second."

Leoff was silent for a moment. "Oh," "Oh," he finally said. he finally said.

"Yes. You've made friends with one of the king's bastards-not a popular person with the queen, right now."

"The poor girl can't help her birth."

"No, of course not. But Lady Gramme is one of many who have visions of a crown in her future, and she isn't afraid to try anything that might bring that vision to pass. She's the queen's bitter enemy. Mery's lucky she hasn't met with some sort of . . . accident."

Leoff straightened indignantly. "I can't believe the queen would imagine doing such a thing."

"A year ago, I might have agreed with you," Artwair replied. Now-well, I wouldn't get too attached to little Mery."

Leoff glanced off down the hall, hoping the girl wasn't within earshot.

"Ah," Artwair said. "It's too late for that, I see." He walked over and rested his hand on Leoff's shoulder. "The court is a dangerous place, just now," he said. "You've got to watch what sort of friends you make. If the queen ever suspected you had been drawn into Gramme's snares-well, then I'd be worried about you you experiencing a bad fall." He lifted his hand. "Take me seriously," he said. "Keep away from Gramme. Don't attract her attention." He showed his teeth. "And wish me luck. If things go well, I'll be back before Yule." experiencing a bad fall." He lifted his hand. "Take me seriously," he said. "Keep away from Gramme. Don't attract her attention." He showed his teeth. "And wish me luck. If things go well, I'll be back before Yule."

"Best of luck, Artwair," Leoff said. "I'll ask the saints to keep you safe."

"Auy. But if they don't, no bloody requiems, please? They're damn depressing."

Leoff watched the duke leave, his heart sinking further. Artwair was the only adult he really knew in Eslen, certainly the only one he might call a friend. After him, there was only Mery.

And as for that, and Ambria Gramme-Artwair's warning had come a few hours too late. He had already attracted her attention.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

TRUST.

WHEN C CAZIO BURST INTO the courtyard, Anne was huddled near the cookfire, patching a shawl. The nights had grown cooler, and she had no money for a new wrap. the courtyard, Anne was huddled near the cookfire, patching a shawl. The nights had grown cooler, and she had no money for a new wrap.

She smiled thinly at Cazio, who seemed-as usual-very pleased with himself.

"I've got a present for you," he announced.

"What sort of present?"

"Ask me nicely, and I'll tell you."

"What sort of present, please please?" she said impatiently.

He frowned. "Is that as nicely as you can manage? I was hoping for something more in the way of a kiss."

"Yes, well, without hope, we'd have little to drive us on, would we? If I gave you that kiss, what would you have left to hope for?"

"Oh, I can imagine a thing or two," he leered.

"Yes, but you could never truly hope hope for them," she said. Then she sniffed. "Never mind. Unless your present is a new shawl, or a warmer suit of clothes, I doubt that I've any need of it." for them," she said. Then she sniffed. "Never mind. Unless your present is a new shawl, or a warmer suit of clothes, I doubt that I've any need of it."

"Oh, no? How does passage on a ship sound?"

Anne dropped her darning needle. Then she frowned and picked it back up. "Don't tease," she said irritably.

"A fine one you are to talk," he said.

"I've never never-"

"I'm kidding," Cazio said. Then, quickly-"Not about the ship. It's all arranged. Passage for the four of us."

"To where?"

"Paldh. That's near Eslen, is it not?"

"Very near," Anne said. "Near enough. Is this true? You're not baiting me?"

"Casnara, I am not. I've just spoken to the captain."