"We'll go get a boat on the canal."

"I think the bad men came on the canal," Leoff said. "I think there will be a lot of them there."

"Not that canal," she said, "there's another one. Come on. This way."

They mazed through dark gardens of hedges trimmed fantastic, around still marble basins that glimmed faintly in the moonlight. The grass crunched with frost, and two owls were making ghostly conversation. Not too far away, he could hear men's voices, but they were growing fainter.

He stopped suddenly.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Gilmer. My friend Gilmer was in there."

"The little man? No, he left when you started playing the hammarharp."

"Oh. Good." Or maybe not. How long had the soldiers been outside? They might have caught him as he left.

But there was nothing he could do about it right now, not with Mery. She was probably in more danger than he was.

"How did you know to run, Mery?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. "It was like you had the whole thing planned out."

"Yes," she said, after a silence.

"Why?"

"I always have a way planned out."

"But why?"

"Mother says they may come to kill me one day."

"Did she say why?"

"No. Only that they might come one day, the king's men, and kill me and my brother. So I figured out ways to run and places to hide. It's how I found the music room."

"You're a very clever girl, Mery."

"Are you going to marry my mother?" she asked.

"What?" For a moment his dizziness returned. "Did she say something like that?"

"No," Mery replied.

"Then why do you ask?"

"Because I like you."

He took her hand. "I like you, too, Mery. Come on, let's find someplace warm."

They found the canal easily enough, and several small narrowboats. They were approaching them when Mery suddenly grabbed him by the arm.

"Shh," she said.

There were voices in the darkness, and straining, Leoff made out several indistinct figures near the canal. He and Mery crouched behind a bush.

"They captured the lady Gramme and her son," one of the men said in a husky baritone.

"That's of no concern," a second man said. Something about that voice sent a chill through Leoff. It wasn't the voice itself, which was perfectly normal, tenor, cultured. But just as any note played on a lute had numerous smaller tones hidden within it, there was something hidden in that voice-something somehow wrong wrong.

"How can you say that?" the baritone asked. "Our plans are ruined."

"Hardly. I'm amazed that Muriele discovered this, much less acted on the information, but once our spies reported them coming, I did my best to encourage them."

"What do you mean?"

"Some of my men met them at the docks with bow and arrow and killed one or two, then fled into the darkness. After that, the queen's men didn't ask questions-they stormed through the front door, where the guards naturally reacted to them before they understood who they were fighting. What was probably meant to be a peaceful interrogation ended up in bloodshed. Do you know how many were killed?"

"I'm not sure, my lord-but more than a few."

"I feel foolish for not having planted the evidence of this meeting myself," the tenor said. "Still, it's all worked out quite well."

"I really don't see how."

"He's right," a third voice said. This one sounded familiar to Leoff, but he couldn't place it. "If one of us had been found there, things might be different. As it is, Muriele's men will find little of substance-little to justify this attack. It will seem as if they burst into an innocent gathering and began slaughtering landwaerden."

"Indeed," the tenor agreed. "Even the few loyal members of the Comven won't be able to support this action. I believe this moves us well ahead of our schedule."

"I urge caution, my lord," the third man said. "Give the kingdom time to absorb this before you move."

"No, I don't think so," the second man said. "The time to strike is now."

"You mean tonight?" the baritone asked incredulously.

"Not tonight. But soon. Go to the camp. Tell them to be ready to cross the water."

"Yes, my lord."

One of the figures moved to the narrowboats, and soon he was rowing away on the canal.

"I'll take my leave now, as well," the familiar voice said. "But heed my advice-moving too quickly could be a mistake."

"No, this is the perfect time."

"There are many who still sympathize with the queen, and many more who will not care for you, milord. The situation does favor you, but there might be ways to sweeten it."

"Well, your advice is always welcome," the tenor said.

"After tonight, the landwaerden will be incensed," the familiar voice went on. "Through Gramme, you can be certain of their support. The nobility, however, will not care much about a few dead waerds. In fact, this might actually draw a few of them back to the queen."

"She's worried them enough by forming her own Lierish guard."

"Yes. But what if she began truncating all lines of succession other than Charles and Anne?"

"You mean by killing Gramme and her bastards?"

"Precisely."

"But we need Gramme, I think, and her son could prove useful. He is, after all, William's."

"Yes. The assassinations of Gramme and the boy might be seen as bungled. But the girl is of no use to us."

"Mery? No, I suppose she isn't. And she's probably in the queen's custody right now. I suppose it couldn't hurt matters. Can you arrange this?"

"It wouldn't be hard," the familiar voice said.

"Before tomorrow?"

"Are you in that much of a hurry?"

"Three days. No more."

"That's sufficient time, I suppose," the familiar voice sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Just be ready to play your part, and all will go perfectly."

"That's just it. My men won't arrive for another month."

"We don't need your men, Praifec. Only your word. Do I have it?"

"You have it."

They left then, the praifec on foot, the other man in a narrowboat. Leoff held Mery still, shivering to the bone, only partially from the cold.

"I told you," Mery said softly.

"It's not going to happen, Mery," Leoff promised. "They aren't going to kill you. Come on."

"If we go to the castle, they'll find me."

"I know. We're not going to the castle."

They took one of the narrowboats and went the direction the other man had not. By morning, they had reached a small, cheerful-looking town called Plinse. There Leoff carefully obtained directions to the vicinity of Meolwis. He also bought a cloak to hide Mery's dress, and from there the two of them followed Leokwigh Road north. They reached Meolwis near sundown and stayed in an abandoned house. The next day, they went west along the dike of Saint Thon's Graf, and within a bell had come upon a malend.

Hiding Mery below the birm, Leoff went to the door and rapped on it.

To his great relief, Gilmer was the one who answered it, his eyes bugging in gnomish surprise.

"It's good to see you well," the little man said, after they'd embraced. "I heard about the trouble at Her Ladyship's. Almost caught some of it myself. I guess you must have heeded my advice."

"I was still there," Leoff said. "Someone helped me escape."

"One of the young ladies, eh?"

Leoff smiled. "I need a favor, Gilmer."

"You've just to ask."

"This isn't an easy favor, and it's dangerous. Let me explain it before you say yes."

He called Mery in and related everything that had happened, including what the two of them had heard that night.

"Who do you think it was?" Gilmer asked. "Besides the praifec? Who were the other two?"

"I've no idea."

"One of them was Prince Robert," Mery said.

Gilmer looked at her. "Prince Robert's dead, lass."

"It was him," the girl insisted.

Gilmer made a long, low whistle. "This aens't good. Not one bit good." He slapped his knees. "But you've done the right thing. There's nothing you can do back there. The royals will settle that mess and that's that. But the praifec-well, they go that way sometimes."

"I can't let anything happen to Mery," Leoff said.

"No, of course you can't," Gilmer replied. He tousled the girl's hair. "I don't care if the fratrex Prismo himself has come up from z'Irbina, there's no little girl getting killed while I'm around. No, you two will stay here. When this all blows over, we can reckon what to do."

"Gilmer, I need you to keep Mery safe-that much is true. But I've got to go back."

Gilmer shook a finger at him. "That's crazy," he said. "You think you'll stop a palace coup all by yourself? Or that anyone would be grateful to you even if you did? You were the guest of honor at that party. Even if the queen wins, she's going to think you a traitor. Learn your lesson, son-stay away."

"I can't. The queen needs to be warned." He squared his shoulders. "Besides, I have a commission to finish and a concert to perform."

PART IV.

ROADMARKS.

The Year 2,223 of Everon.