Austra was quiet, too. He gathered the two girls had had some sort of fight on the ship, and both were still sulking about it. He wondered if the fight had been over him. Austra was taking very well to his attentions; if Anne was jealous, she wasn't showing him, but she could be taking it out on Austra.

Which left z'Acatto, who had grumbled drunkenly at having been roused from his stupor, but who by the time they started setting up camp was getting pretty garrulous. When Cazio drew Caspator and began a few exercises, the old man grunted, came to his feet, and drew his own blade.

"I saw you attack with the z'ostato z'ostato the other day," he said. the other day," he said.

"I did," Cazio said.

"That's a foolish attack," z'Acatto said. "I never taught you that."

"No," Cazio agreed. "It was something one of Estenio's students tried on me."

"Uh-huh. Did it work?"

Cazio grinned. "No. I replied with the pero perfo pero perfo and let him impale himself." and let him impale himself."

"Of course. Once your feet leave the ground, you can no longer change direction. You sacrifice all your maneuverability."

"Yes."

Z'Acatto made a few passes in the air. "Then why did you do it?" he asked.

Cazio thought back, trying to remember. "The knight almost had Anne," he said, after a moment. "I might have reached him with a lunge, but my point would not have pierced his armor and the force of the blow wouldn't have been enough to stop him. But with the whole weight of my body behind my tip, I was able to topple him. I think I crushed his windpipe through his gorget, too, but since he was a devil of some sort, that didn't matter."

Z'Acatto nodded. "I never taught you the z'ostato z'ostato, because it is a foolish move when fencing with rapiers. It is not so foolish when fighting an armored man with a heavy sword."

Cazio tried to hide his astonishment. "Are you saying I was right to use it?"

"You were right to use it, but you did not use it correctly. Your form was poor."

"It worked," Cazio protested.

Z'Acatto wagged a finger at him. "What was the first thing I told you about the art of dessrata?"

Cazio sighed and leaned on his sword. "That dessrata isn't about speed or strength, but about doing things correctly," he said.

"Exactly!" z'Acatto cried, flourishing his weapon. "Sometimes speed and strength may allow you to succeed despite despite poor form, don't get me wrong. But one day you will not have that speed and strength, either because you are wounded, or sick-or old, like me. Better to prepare for it." poor form, don't get me wrong. But one day you will not have that speed and strength, either because you are wounded, or sick-or old, like me. Better to prepare for it."

"Very well," Cazio conceded. "What did I do wrong?"

Z'Acatto set his guard stance. "It begins thus thus, with the back foot," he began. "It must explode forward, and your arm must already be rigid and in line. You should make the attack to the outside line, not the inside, because it's closer. After you strike, you pass, perhaps to thrust again from behind, perhaps merely to run away. Try it."

Under the old man's guidance, Cazio practiced the motion a few times.

"Better," z'Acatto said. "But the leap should be more forward-you shouldn't leave the ground so far behind. The more you go up, the slower it is, and above all this must be quick."

"What is my target, on an armored man?" Cazio inquired.

"The gorget was a fair choice. If the arm is lifted, that's good, too, right in the pit of it. If you're behind, up under the helm. The back of the knee. The eye-slits, if you can hit them."

Cazio grinned. "Didn't you once teach me that one doesn't fight a knight?" Cazio asked.

"One doesn't fence fence with them," Cazio replied. "That doesn't mean you can't kill them." with them," Cazio replied. "That doesn't mean you can't kill them."

"Except, apparently, in the case of our present enemies," Cazio reminded him.

"Most of them are flesh and blood," z'Acatto scoffed. "The others we merely need to decapitate. We know it can be done."

He raised his rapier and held it above his head, hilt up and the tip pointed more or less at Cazio's face. "If the broadsword is held like this, and he thrusts, don't parry. Counterattack along his blade and void to the side. Never meet a broadsword with a simple parry. Use your feet-wait for the cut, then thrust, watch for the backswing."

For the next two hours, by firelight, they played at rapier and broadsword, and for the first time in a long time, Cazio felt a return of the sheer joy of dessrata, of learning and practicing with his mestro.

Finally, panting, the old man retired his weapon to its scabbard. "Enough," he sighed. "I'm getting too old for this."

"A few more?" Cazio begged. "What if the blow comes from beneath, but-?"

"No, no. Tomorrow." z'Acatto sagged down onto a rock, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow.

"When did you fight knights, z'Acatto?" Cazio asked.

Z'Acatto just grunted and looked at the fire.

"Ospero called you Emrature. What did he mean by that?"

"That was a long time ago," z'Acatto murmured. "Times I don't like thinking of when I don't have to."

"You've never said anything about being a commander."

Z'Acatto shook his head. "I just said I don't like to talk about it, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Well." He got up, stretched out on his blanket, and closed his eyes.

Cazio watched him for a long while. The girls were already asleep. It looked like he had the watch.

The next day was cool and clear. The fields continued, and after a bell of traveling, they saw a castle on a distant hill. Cazio could make out the white walls and yellow roofs of a small town that lay beneath it.

Presently they reached a fork in the road. One path led toward the castle; the other continued straight.

"Straight on is our direction," Cazio said.

"You're awfully cheerful this morning," Austra noticed. The two of them and the ass were somewhat ahead of the others. Anne was lagging back a bit, and seemed deep in thought. Z'Acatto was limping.

"I suppose I am," Cazio replied. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm in the company of a beautiful casnara, the sun is shining, and we've escaped danger, at least for the moment. Best of all, we're not on a ship."

"There is that," Austra said.

"And all of this," Cazio said, waving his arm about. "It's a change. It's certainly not Vitellio. Is Crotheny like this?"

Austra shook her head. "This is more like Vitellio, really," she said. "Crotheny is wetter. There are more trees and the fields are greener, even this time of year. It's colder there, too."

"Well, I'm looking forward to seeing it. You must be. You must be ready to go home."

Austra lifted her shoulders diffidently. "I'm not sure what home is now," she said. "Everything's changed. I don't know if there will be a place for me anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't know if Anne will still want me as her maid."

"Maid?"

She looked surprised. "Didn't you know?"

"I didn't. I thought you were cousins or friends."

"Well, we were were friends." friends."

He glanced back at Anne and lowered his voice. "I've noticed you two haven't been very friendly lately."

"We had a fight on the ship," Austra admitted. "I said some things I shouldn't have."

"Well, you've known her for longer than I have," Cazio said, "but she isn't the easiest person in the world to get along with."

"She used to be, to me," Austra said.

"But something's changed."

"Yes. She's changed. Something's happened to her, and she won't tell me what."

Cazio tugged at the mule, who seemed interested in something on the side of the road. "Well," he said, "you tell me her father and sisters were killed, and someone's making a pretty good effort to kill her, too. That's probably had a bit of an effect."

"Of course. But it's more than that."

"Well, I'm sure you two will make up soon," Cazio said. "Or at least I hope so. I hate to see such long faces."

They went another few steps in silence. "I'm glad you're here, Cazio," she said. "Anne is the only friend I ever really had."

"I hope I'm your friend," he said.

"You feel like a friend," Austra replied. "But not like Anne."

"No? What sort of friend am I, then?"

"The sort I rarely even dared to imagine," she replied.

Feeling strange and oddly guilty, he slipped his hand into hers.

Malconio was right. His interest had always been in Anne, though what drove him crazy about that was that he couldn't exactly say why. But Anne was difficult. She still thought she was in love with this Roderick fellow. He'd thought by showing Austra some attention, he might get Anne to look his way-a lot of women were like that. At times he thought he might be succeeding. At others he felt he was wasting his time.

But meanwhile he had succeeded all too well with Austra. There was no mistaking her affection.

To his surprise, he realized he was genuinely starting to return it. She was kind and intelligent, and in her own way every bit as pretty as Anne. Oddly, every time he looked at her, she seemed prettier. Austra was the sort of girl you wanted to hold and comfort, and tell everything would be all right.

But he still wanted Anne.

A little after noon, they reached the great Vitellian way which was, finally, a real road, wide enough for carriages. One passed them, and Anne watched it go by longingly. She and Austra had traveled to Vitellio in such a carriage, with all the luxuries she had grown up expecting.

Now she was returning home with an ass.

There was one way the two journeys were similar-Austra hadn't been talking to her much in the carriage, either. She had been punishing her for trying to run away. That argument had been fixed with a promise. She didn't think this silence could be so easily broken.

Austra had Cazio now, anyway. The two of them had been holding hands all day.

They stayed that night in a barn just outside of Pacre. The farmer spoke a little king's tongue, and told them they would be crossing into Hornladh soon. Her heart quickened a little at that, and she asked him if he knew where Dunmrogh was. He said it was in the east, but wasn't sure of the way.

That night she lay awake, feeling guilty for not thinking of Roderick more. She knew she loved him, but so much had been happening.

Deep down, she knew it was more. Cazio had planted doubts about Roderick, and though she knew he was wrong, she couldn't get them completely out of her mind. She needed to see him again. Was he in Eslen or back home in Dunmrogh?

Perhaps when they reached Paldh, she could find a courier to carry word to Dunmrogh that she was coming home.

The next day, the fields gave way to expansive vineyards that ran over the hills all the way to the horizon. Anne remembered them from their trip in the carriage-she remembered that she had never imagined there were so many grapes in the entire world.

She glanced over at Austra, who for once wasn't walking twenty yards ahead of her.

"The Teremene River must be up ahead," Anne ventured. "If I remember from your journal."

"I think you're right," Austra said.

"That was clever of you," Anne went on, "keeping that journal. At least we know where we are. How many days do you think we are from Eslen?"

"It was five days by carriage," Austra said. "But we didn't travel all day, and we spent two nights in Paldh."

"Six days, then, or seven do you think, if we press hard?"

"That might be right," Austra allowed.

Anne bit her lip. "Are we going to continue like this?" she asked. "Not talking?"

"We're talking," Austra said.

"You know what I mean."