Austra sighed and nodded. "It's just-I still love you, Anne, but sometimes I think you can't love me."

"That's nonsense," Anne said. "You're my best friend. You've always been my best friend. And I still need you."

"It just hurts, the way you keep shutting me out."

"I know," Anne said.

"But you aren't going to stop."

Anne sighed. "Let me think about it. But can we call a truce for the time being?"

"We aren't at war."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Anne said, trying to sound bright.

They chatted after that, speculating about how things would be in Eslen. It wasn't as comfortable as it once had been, but it was better than the silence.

After about a bell, Austra asked for a break so she could answer the call of nature.

"I'll join you," Anne said. "The morning wine's gone straight through me."

Cazio and z'Acatto took the opportunity to sit. "Take your time," Cazio said. "The ass needs a rest."

The two girls strolled up a hill through long rows of grapevines, until they couldn't see the men anymore. Anne wished it was the season for grapes-the dried fish and hard bread they'd purchased with her hair hadn't been good to start with, and she was really sick of it now.

"What's that down there?" Austra asked, when they'd finished what they climbed the hill to do.

Anne peered in the direction the other girl was pointing. The hill sloped down away from where they had left the men, to form a little valley between it and the next hill. A line of willows marked a stream, but before the stream there was what first appeared to be an irregular wall of red brick. Then she saw there was more to it.

"It looks like some sort of ruin," Anne said.

"Can we get a closer look?" Austra asked.

Anne didn't really feel like it-she had had enough of explorations and adventures to last a lifetime. But Austra was talking to her again.

"A small look," she granted. "We shouldn't delay too long."

They made their way down the hill. The formal vines ended halfway down and picked up on the next hill, but the valley was unruly, grown up with wild vines, brush, and bushes. The ground was littered with bricks.

"It must have been a castle, or a mansion," Austra said, when they drew nearer.

Anne nodded in agreement. Grapevines concealed most of the structure. One wall still stood higher than their heads-the rest had crumbled almost to the foundations. Still, they could see the outlines of the rooms that had been there, and it had been a house of considerable size.

Now that they were down here, it was also apparent that there were more buildings, or what had once been buildings. Yet there was something odd about them. Even in ruin, there was something familiar.

Curious, Anne stepped over the remains of a wall and into the nearest ruin. There was a sort of mound not far in, which on closer inspection turned out to be a broken stone box. Something dull and white caught her eye, and she bent to pick it up. It was thin but heavy, and with a start she realized it was a small piece of lead foil. She felt the slight raising of letters on it, and with a gasp dropped it.

"What's wrong?" Austra asked.

"This is a city of the dead," Anne whispered. "Like Eslen-of-Shadows." She backed away from the box, which could only be the remains of a sarcophagus.

"Saints!" Austra murmured, looking around. "But where is the living city? We're too far from Pacre, and I don't think we're to Teremene yet."

"No one has kept this up," Anne said. "The city-of-the-quick must be gone, too. Maybe it was farther down the valley."

"A whole town, gone?" Austra wondered aloud. "How could that happen?"

"It happens," Anne said. "It might have been a plague, or war-" A shiver went down her back. "Let's get out of here. These aren't our ancestors. They might not like having us here."

"Wait," Austra said. "Look over there."

Anne reluctantly followed Austra around another pile of rubble. Beyond it stood a construction that was more or less intact, square, four-walled, though with no roof. The arch of the doorway had fallen in, but the opening was still there. Inside, trees and vines grew so thickly, they seemed nearly impenetrable.

"It's a horz," Austra said. "It looks almost like the one back home-where we found Virgenya's tomb."

A strange sensation settled on Anne as she realized Austra was right. She felt something turn behind her eyes and the faint whisper of a voice in a language she did not know.

"We have to leave, Austra," she said urgently. "We have to leave now now."

Austra turned, and her eyes widened. "Your face," she said, sounding concerned. "Are you all right?"

"I just have to leave."

The feeling faded as they put the horz behind them.

"What was it?" Austra asked.

"I don't know," Anne replied. Then, seeing the skeptical look on Austra's face, she said, "I really don't don't know. But I'm feeling better now." know. But I'm feeling better now."

Austra suddenly frowned. "Did you hear that?" she asked. "Was that Cazio?"

"I didn't hear anything."

Austra started running up the hill, but Anne caught her by the hand. "Wait," she whispered. "Slowly. Quietly."

"Why? It sounded like he was shouting."

"All the more reason," Anne said. "What if he was trying to warn us?"

"Warn us?" Austra's voice sounded a little panicky.

They hurried to the top of the hill, crouching low, and peered down through the grapevines.

Cazio and z'Acatto were there, along with some twenty riders. Cazio was down on his knees, his sword several yards away, and one of the men was binding his hands behind his back. Z'Acatto was standing and already bound.

It was the knights and soldiers from the docks.

"They've found us," Anne whispered.

"Cazio," Austra gasped. Then she opened her mouth to shout it, and Anne had to clap a hand over it.

"No," Anne barely sighed. "We have to run."

Austra closed her eyes and nodded. Anne removed her hand.

"We can't leave them," Austra said anxiously.

"They didn't kill them," Anne said. "They won't unless they catch us, do you see? But if they do catch us, we'll all die."

"I-"

"They'll come up here," Anne said. "We're lucky they haven't already, but they recognized Cazio and z'Acatto, so they know we must be somewhere. The only way we can help them is by staying free."

"I suppose so," Austra relented.

They started back down the hill, toward the ruins, creeping at first, but when they heard horses' hooves coming up behind them, they began to run.

CHAPTER TWO.

THE B BLIND, THE D DEAF,.

AND THE D DARKNESS.

WHEN A ALIS B BERRYE ENTERED, Muriele waved her to a seat.

"Tell me what is happening," she said. "Tell me how I might die today."

Berrye frowned and clutched her hands together. "Majesty," she said, "first I'd like to discuss the matter of the attack on Lady Gramme's manse."

"Go on," Muriele said, reaching for her cup of tea.

"You ordered that because of my suggestion that Prince Robert was there, and that the lady Gramme was plotting against you. I fear I have failed you."

"Because we did not find Robert?" Muriele took a sip of the tea. "That's hardly a surprise. That matter went very poorly, but it was not your fault. There should not have been an attack, for one thing. My orders were to surround the place so no one could sneak away. Sir Fail was then to enter with my authority and conduct a peaceful search. Instead, his men were set upon and they reacted like the warriors they are. But Robert aside, it's fairly clear that Gramme was conspiring to win over the support of the Newland landwaerden. That in itself was worth knowing."

Berrye continued to look troubled. "Majesty, I could have discovered that myself, without bloodshed."

"You have the presumption to tell me that sending my men to Gramme's was a mistake?"

"It is my duty to tell you such things, Majesty," Berrye replied. "It is in the nature of what you have asked me to do."

Muriele raised an eyebrow, but Berrye was right. Erren had never shied from telling her when she had been a fool. Of course, Erren had been older, and her friend of many years. Having this girl girl remonstrate with her was-annoying. remonstrate with her was-annoying.

"Very well, I accept that," she said reluctantly. "I know that it was an unpopular move, particularly in certain quarters. But I felt I had to make some show of force, make some statement that I will not sit passive and be a target."

"Maybe so," Berrye agreed, "but you might have picked another battle. The landwaerden are no longer disaffected with the throne-they are furious at it. Your support in the Comven is weaker than ever, and the rumor in the streets is that you have gone mad. Worst of all, the praifec has begun to speak against you."

"Really," Muriele said. "What does the praifec say?"

"He suggests pointedly that you have wrested power from your son."

"He knows very well Charles isn't capable of making decisions."

Berrye nodded. "That is, I believe, his point. His further point being that your son should be removed from your council and placed under his."

Muriele smiled bitterly. "Only a few days ago, he suggested that I allow troops from z'Irbina to camp in this city. Did you know that?"

"No, but I could have guessed it. The Church is in motion, Majesty. I do not know the exact nature of their agenda, but I think it certain they are ending their long recusion from direct interference in secular affairs."

Muriele settled her cup on the arm of her chair. "Hespero said something like that, too," she said. "Very well-kill him for me."

"Majesty?" Berrye's eyes widened fractionally.

"I'm joking, Lady Berrye."

"I . . . Oh, good."

"Unless you think I've gone mad, as well."

"I don't think that at all, Majesty," Berrye assured her.

"Well, good," she said sarcastically. "You've told me what I did wrong-I'm open to your suggestions of what to do right."

"It's of the greatest importance that you win the landwaerden and merchants back to your cause, Majesty," the girl replied. "I cannot stress that enough."

"Believe it or not," Muriele said, "I had entertained thoughts along those lines some weeks ago. I commissioned a piece of music to be composed for them and for the common people of the city. The performance was to be some three weeks hence, with a banquet to accompany it. I didn't know that Lady Gramme had beaten me to it. Now I suppose there's little point. It will only seem like an apology."

"Which is precisely why you should go ahead with it," Berrye said. "But you must go farther, I think, and consider what laws you might reform to pacify them. I would suggest a formal hearing where they may present their demands."

"I'll do so tomorrow. What else?"

"Whether you've thrown in with Liery or not, everyone thinks you have. You have two choices: either disprove that notion by marrying Berimund, or make it true in every sense by marrying one of the Lierish lords."

"No," Muriele said. "What else?"

"Free Gramme immediately," Berrye urged. "You haven't proved she's done anything wrong, and if something happens to her while she is in your custody, it will only make you look worse."

"I was rather hoping something would would happen to her while she was in my custody," Muriele replied. happen to her while she was in my custody," Muriele replied.

"I hope that's another joke, Majesty."

"It is, Lady Berrye, but just barely. I'll have her freed within the hour. Is there anything else?"