"By whom? Austrobaurg was killed, as well." But a terrible sense was emerging, now. Perhaps the Lierish arrows that had slain her husband's guard had not been artificially planted after all. Perhaps it really had been the retribution of some Lierish lord who knew what William had done.

And if that were true, did Fail de Liery know? Had this entire attempt on her life been designed to lead her directly into his hands?

"I have a guess as to who the betrayer was," Berrye said, "but no certain proof."

"Well?"

The girl paced a few steps, hands clasped behind her back. Then she turned to face Muriele again. "Did you know that Ambria Gramme had another lover?" she asked.

Muriele snorted. "Whom didn't didn't she spread her legs for-that's the question." she spread her legs for-that's the question."

Berrye shook her head. "This was a very secret lover. A very important one."

"Do not tire me, Lady Berrye. Who was he?"

A small look of triumph spread across Berrye's face. "Prince Robert," she said.

Muriele took a moment to absorb that fact. After the initial shock, she realized that it wasn't really that surprising. Robert had always wanted what William possessed. He had even tried to seduce Muriele a time or two.

"What of it?"

"Prince Robert convinced His Majesty to pay the ransom. Prince Robert set the time and the place for both His Majesty and Austrobaurg to meet. Only the prince knew all the details."

"You believe Robert betrayed William to his death?"

"I believe it."

"Despite the fact that Robert was also killed in the ambush?"

Berrye blinked. "Robert was never found, Majesty."

"They only found part of William," Muriele said. "He was thrown into the sea. Presumably Robert . . ." She trailed off. Why had she so easily assumed Robert was dead? Because everyone else had?

"What has this to do with Gramme?" she demanded.

"I recently heard her speak of the prince as if she knew he was still alive. She intimated that she had seen him."

"She said this to you?"

"No," Berrye admitted, "but I heard it, nevertheless. And I think she knows it."

"You've made it your business to hear a great many things, it would seem," Muriele noticed.

"Yes, Majesty, I have."

"And how how did you hear all of this?" did you hear all of this?"

"I think you know, Majesty," Berrye said, pushing her disorderly curls away from her face, finally showing a bit of real nervousness. "The same way you knew who had left you the note."

"So. William knew about the passages."

To her surprise, Berrye laughed, a terse little giggle. "His Majesty? No, he knew nothing of them."

Muriele frowned. "Then how did you-?" It hit her then. "You're coven trained."

Berrye nodded infinitesimally.

Muriele sat back, trying to reform her picture of the girl, wondering if there was anything at all solid in her life.

"Did Erren know?" she asked, her voice sounding weak to her own ears.

"I do not think so, Majesty. We were not of the same order."

A chill tightened Muriele's spine. "There is only the order of Cer." But Erren herself had voiced the opinion that there were other, illicit orders.

"There is another," Berrye confirmed.

"And they sent you here."

"Yes, Majesty. To keep my eyes and ears open, to stay near the king."

Now it was Muriele's turn to laugh, though somewhat bitterly. "That you did most admirably well. Aren't you supposed to be celibate?"

Berrye looked down, shyly, and for the first time since the conversation had begun looked no older than her nineteen years. "My order has no such restrictions," she murmured.

"I see. And why come to me now with this knowledge?"

Berrye looked back up. Her eyes were round and threatening tears. "Because, Your Majesty, they are all dead-all my sisters. I am orphaned. And I believe their murderers were the same as those who killed William, Fastia, Elseny, and Lesbeth."

Muriele felt a sudden rush of sympathy, and her own grief threatened to surface, but she crushed it away. She would have time for that later, and she had already allowed herself to appear too weak in front of Berrye. Instead, she concentrated on the facts.

"Lesbeth? So Austrobaurg killed her?"

"I believe Austrobaurg never even saw her," Berrye said. "I think she died here, in Eslen."

"Then where did Robert get her finger?"

"From the author of all of this, of course. From the one who designed this entire tragedy."

"Gramme?"

"Or Robert. Or the both of them. I cannot say for sure."

"Robert loved Lesbeth better than anyone."

"Yes," Berrye said. "With a terrible love. I think an unnatural love that she did not share."

Muriele felt a sick twisting in her belly, and her mouth went dry. "And where is Robert now?"

"I don't know. But I think Ambria Gramme does."

"And where is she?"

"At her estates, preparing a fete of some sort."

"I've heard nothing of this," Muriele said.

"It was not widely advertised in Eslen."

"Then who attends it?"

"That I did not discover either," Berrye confessed.

Muriele sat back, her head whirling. She closed her eyes, hoping things would settle, but it was too much.

"If you have lied to me," she said at last, "you will not die quickly."

"I have not lied to you, Majesty," Berrye said. Her eyes were clear again, and her voice strong.

"Let us hope not," Muriele said. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"There is a good deal," Berrye said. "I can tell you which members of the Comven favor you and which do not. I can tell you who Gramme has on her side. And I can tell you she is planning to move against you soon."

"Have I cause to doubt Sir Fail and his men?"

"None that I know of."

Muriele sat up. "Lady Berrye, will you declare an oath to take me as your personal liege, swearing by whatever saints you swear by?"

"If you will protect me in turn, Majesty."

Muriele smiled. "You must know that I can barely protect myself."

"You have more power than you know," Berrye told her. "You just haven't learned how to use it. I can help you. I was trained for it."

"You would be my new Erren?" Muriele asked bitterly. "My new coven-trained bodyguard?"

"I would do that, Majesty. I swear it by the saints I swear by." She touched her forehead and breast with her thumb.

Muriele sighed. "I would be a great fool to trust you," she said.

"If I were already in your employ, I would tell you exactly that," Berrye said. "You have no reason to trust me. But I'm asking you to. You need me, and I need you. My entire order was slaughtered, women I loved. And believe me or not, but I cared for His Majesty. He was not a good king, but he was, for all his faults, a good man, and there are few such in the world. I would see those who brought him down go screaming to Mefitis, begging her mercy. And there is one more thing."

"What is that?" Muriele asked.

"Do not ask me to explain this. It is the one thing I cannot explain."

"Go on."

"Your daughter, Anne. She must live, and she must be queen."

A long shock ran through Muriele, starting at her feet and working up to the crown of her head.

"What do you know of Anne?" she demanded.

"That she is alive. That she was at Saint Cer. That the sisters of the coven Saint Cer, like those of my own order, were all murdered."

"But Anne escaped?"

"I have no proof, but I feel it in my heart. I see it in my dreams. But she has many enemies."

Muriele stared at the girl, wondering how she could have ever believed her to be the empty-headed pretty thing she had pretended to be. Even Erren had been fooled, which was remarkable. Alis Berrye was a very dangerous woman. She could also be a very useful ally.

Muriele rose and summoned the footman. "Give the lady Berrye an escort and instruct them to take her to her apartment, where she will retrieve her personal effects. Settle her in the small apartment down the hall. And please tell Sir Fail that I request his presence."

"You won't regret this, Majesty," Berrye said.

"See that I don't. Go along now, Lady Berrye."

She watched the girl go and then returned to her chair, ticking her finger against the wooden arm, waiting for Sir Fail.

It was time to pay a visit to her husband's other mistress. But she had another call to make first. One she had been avoiding.

She went to her dresser, and though she had made her decision, she hesitated before the small coffer, thinking of the Him, deep beneath the castle, where no light ever shone. His voice of silk and nightmare. She had not spoken to the Kept since that day she discovered the key in William's study, after his death.

But she had questions for him now. With no more faltering, she opened the wooden box.

The key was not there.

CHAPTER SIX.

Observations on Diverse Things Such as Being Dead BY S STEPHEN D DARIGE.

I had to learn to hear again once before. It was after I walked the faneway of Decmanis. Each stop along the way took something from me-the sensation in my hand first, then my hearing, then my sight-until there was nothing left of me but a body, not even a mind. Somehow I finished the path, and it all came back to me, but different, better.That's how it is to be dead. I heard a lot at first, but it made no sense. It was just noise, like the wailing of ghosts in the halls of the damned. Then the noises began to make sense, and eventually to become familiar.I can hear Aspar, Winna, and Ehawk, but my body is lost to me. I cannot speak to them or move a finger or an eyelid.I remember I used to care for them.I do still, in many ways. When Winna is near I can smell her, feel her, almost taste her. When she touches me, it sends shivers through me that somehow are not revealed on my dead flesh.I heard her and Aspar last night. She smells different when they do that, sharper. So does Aspar.Observations of the quaint and curious holter-beast-in the act of procreation, this ordinarily closemouthed creature vocalizes extraordinarily, though only in low tones. He makes rhymes of his lover's name-mina-Winna, fenna-Winna, and the inevitable winna-Winna. He calls her by other silly appellations of his own invention, notwithstanding that Winna is already a rather silly name.There's someone new, a Sefry. Winna doesn't like her because Aspar does, though he denies it every way he can. I wonder if she looks like his wife, the dead one?They're taking me to the next faneway, which for them is clever. I wonder what will happen there? The first was very strange, and I am hard put to explain why it affected me the way it did. It was consecrated to one of the damned saints, she who was known as the queen of demons. Perhaps Decmanis is punishing me for stepping on her faneway, and yet somehow that doesn't feel right. The only other possibility that occurs is that she is somehow also an aspect of Saint Decmanis, which would be very interesting indeed, not to mention heretical.Can saints be heretics?We're approaching the fane. I can feel it like a fire.

ASPAR SURVEYED THE CLEARING and the mound. The bodies were still there, and none of them were moving. Of the Briar King and his hunt there was no sign, save the dead bodies of slinders and the monks they had killed. and the mound. The bodies were still there, and none of them were moving. Of the Briar King and his hunt there was no sign, save the dead bodies of slinders and the monks they had killed.

"Oh, saints," Winna said when she saw the carnage.

"Weak stomach?" Leshya asked.

"I've seen bodies like this before," Winna said. "But I don't have to pretend I like it."