"No, that was just for the pleasure of it," Euric countered.

"Don't make a fool of yourself, lad," z'Acatto said. "You let him talk because you're hoping he'll get you mad enough to untie him. You want to fight him as much as he wants to fight you."

"Well," Euric allowed, "I would like to see how he thinks he could beat me with that little sewing-needle of his, yes," Euric said. "But I'm on a holy mission. I can't think of myself when my task comes first."

"There's nothing holy about chasing two young girls all over creation," z'Acatto grunted.

"That's done with," Euric said, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Didn't you know? We found them just after we caught you. In fact, Hrothwulf thinks you you killed them." killed them."

"Killed them?" Cazio blurted. "What are you talking about?"

"They had their throats slit, both of them, just over the hill from where we caught you. There were already ravens pecking at their carcasses. That's how Auland got hurt."

Cazio stared at him. "What, the fellow who lost his eyes? The one that died of blood poisoning before the day was even up? You really think a raven did that to him?"

"I saw it myself," Euric said. But he looked strange, as if somehow he doubted what he was saying.

"Although-" He broke off. "No. I saw them. Their heads were nearly off."

"You're lying," Cazio said. The girls had just gone over the hill to answer nature's call. He'd only taken his eyes off them for a few minutes. Still, he pictured the girls, brigand's grins cut in their throats, and suddenly felt a wave of nausea.

"You sons of whores," he swore. "You get of distempered dogs. I'll kill every last one of you."

"No," Euric said. "You'd be dead already, if we didn't need a swordsman. But the old man will do, I think, if you're so very impatient to meet Ansu Halja. Rest assured, you will die, and it won't be pleasant, so take this time to pray to the ansu you pray to."

He put a loop of rope around Cazio's neck and jerked him to his feet. Then he threw the rope over a low-hanging branch and tied it off, so he couldn't sit down without choking himself.

He left Cazio trying to think of new curses.

That afternoon, more men rode in, most dressed like men-at-arms, but more than a few like clergy. That brought a brief hope, but it didn't take long to see that they were friendly with the knights.

Cazio had little to do other than watch them work, and try not to fall asleep.

The camp was near a rough mound of earth and stone, the kind that in Vitellio were called persi persi or or sedoi, sedoi, and often had fanes built on them. Those taking holy orders were said to walk such stations in a proscribed order to be blessed by the lords. But whatever was going on here seemed decidedly unholy. The newcomers had captives with them, as well, women and children, and they set about planting a ring of seven posts around the mound then clearing back the vegetation. Others began constructing a stone fane upon its summit. and often had fanes built on them. Those taking holy orders were said to walk such stations in a proscribed order to be blessed by the lords. But whatever was going on here seemed decidedly unholy. The newcomers had captives with them, as well, women and children, and they set about planting a ring of seven posts around the mound then clearing back the vegetation. Others began constructing a stone fane upon its summit.

"Have you any idea what they're about, z'Acatto?" Cazio asked, studying his enemies as they went about their antlike business.

"Not really," the old man said. "It's hard to think without wine."

"It's hard for you to stand without wine," Cazio replied.

"So it should be," the old man replied. "A man should never be denied wine, especially one who's soon to die."

He was interrupted by a commotion of some sort. There was a good bit of distant shouting, and the knights mounted and rode out from the clearing, followed quickly by the five men dressed like monks. They returned perhaps a bell later, leading more captives. These were all men, one of middle years and three younger, the youngest looking barely thirteen. All of them were wounded, though none seemed seriously so.

The older man they tied as Cazio was tied, just a perechi away from him. Then they went back about their business.

When none of the enemy was near, the new captive glanced over at Cazio.

"You'd be the Vitellians, then," he said in Cazio's native tongue. "Cazio and z'Acatto."

"You know us, sir?" Cazio asked.

"Yes, we've a couple of friends in common, friends of the fair sort."

"Anne and-"

"Hush," the man said. "Pitch your voice very low. I think those are all Mamres monks, but some may be of Decmanis. If so, they can hear a butterfly's wings."

"But they're alive, and well?"

"So far as I know. My name is Artore, and I was helping them to find you. It looks as if I've done at least part of my job, though I would prefer that the circumstances were different."

"But they escaped? The knights didn't see them?"

Artore shrugged. "I can't say for certain. My sons and I held them off as long as we could, but the monks are deadly shots. They wanted us alive, or we wouldn't be."

"How can the Church be part of this?" Cazio whispered. "It doesn't make sense."

"All men are corruptible," Artore said, "and the more easily if they can tell themselves they are doing holy work. But in fact, I don't know much more about this than you do. My wife would be the one to ask." He looked glum. "I would have liked to see her one last time."

"We'll escape somehow," Cazio promised. "Just watch. I'll find some way."

But as he pulled at his intractable bonds, he still couldn't imagine how.

Neil sat his horse, his hands crossed on the pommel, thinking he didn't like the looks of the forest that lay before him. He didn't know much about forests to start with-there weren't any on Skern, and besides the pretty thin ones he'd passed through on his way to Vitellia, he hadn't seen much of them on the mainland, either. But once, when he was about fifteen, he'd gone north with Sir Fail de Liery to Herilanz. The trip had started as an embassy, but they'd been set upon by Weihand raiders. It had come to a sea fight which they'd won, but not without damage, and so they had put ashore for repairs. Beyond the narrow, rocky strand there had been nothing but but forest, a holt of fir and pine and black cheichete that seemed to Neil like one vast cave. Facing your enemies on the open heath or the great wide sea was one thing, but fighting where concealment was everywhere was quite another. They'd gone in to find a good mast, and come out with half their number, pursued by a tribe of tattooed howlers that recognized no king or crown. forest, a holt of fir and pine and black cheichete that seemed to Neil like one vast cave. Facing your enemies on the open heath or the great wide sea was one thing, but fighting where concealment was everywhere was quite another. They'd gone in to find a good mast, and come out with half their number, pursued by a tribe of tattooed howlers that recognized no king or crown.

This forest had that look, only worse, for while the one in Herilanz had been of straight, clean-boled trees, these twisted and wove together like a gigantic bramble-bush.

It hadn't been hard to follow the Hansan knights. The land between Paldh and Teremene was a rural one, the kind of place where people noticed strange things. A group of foreign armored knights and men-at-arms traveling hard and asking after two girls was a bit out of the ordinary. Even though he was a stranger himself, it wasn't hard to start people talking if he was polite and bought something.

Near Teremene he'd met the knights at a bend in the road, headed back toward Paldh. By the time he realized who they were, it was too late to try and hide. Instead he could only ride forward, reckoning that they wouldn't recognize him. They didn't, and the girls weren't with them.

There wasn't much he could do then but keep going. Either they had found Anne and Austra and killed them, or they had given up the chase. The last seemed unlikely, and so it was with a heavy heart that he entered Teremene. It was there, with a few well-placed questions and paying three times what he ought for a beer, he'd discovered that a few of the knights, "the really unpleasant ones," had gone off north, and some even said they had captives with them, a couple of Vitellian men.

And now, a few days later, Neil paused in front of a dark forest on a horse he'd named Prospect, wondering how deep it was.

"Well, Prospect," he sighed, "let's see what sort of nightkinders haunt this place, eh?"

He switched the horse's reins and started in, but hadn't gone more than a few yards before something ahead caught his eye, a flash of gold, and then something running into the trees. It stopped behind one of the big oaks.

Grimly, he dismounted, pulling his blade, wincing at the balance in his hand. The horse wasn't a warhorse-he wasn't sure what would happen if he tried to fight mounted, especially in these woods.

A head peeped around the tree and he caught a flash of a familiar face. Then the head jerked behind the trunk. He heard a muffled shriek, and he heard footsteps crashing off through the forest.

Austra.

Sheathing the sword, he ran after her, puzzled, certain she had recognized him.

She wasn't trying to hide anymore, but was instead running as if all the demons of the sea were coming after.

"Austra!" he called, trying not to shout it too loudly, but it only seemed to spur her to redouble her efforts. Still, he was the faster runner, and here where the trees were big there wasn't much undergrowth.

She was perhaps ten yards ahead of him when a man on a horse suddenly cut across her trail. She shrieked and dropped to her knees.

The man had on armor but no helm. He'd swung one leg over the black mare he rode, the start of a dismount, when he saw Neil.

The armored man didn't have time to cry out. Neil launched himself like a javelin, hitting him at the waist. Still on the horse but not well balanced, he pitched over the other side and landed with a thud and a clank. The impact canceled Neil's forward flight and dropped him on his side of the horse, so he rolled beneath its belly, drawing his sword. The other fellow managed to get his mail-covered arm up in time to stop his first cut, but Neil heard bone snap. He was sure now that it was one of the Hansan men-at-arms, if not one of the knights. He knew he ought to fight by the code of honor, but so far these men had proved only that they disdained the code.

He cocked back to cleave the man's naked head off, and suddenly realized he'd forgotten the horse. He dropped and rolled as hooves pawed the air and stamped where he'd just been standing. He backed away from the raging beast and that gave the knight time to regain his feet. He opened his mouth, and Neil suddenly understood that he was about to call for help.

So he did the only thing he could-he threw the sword. It tumbled and struck the man across the chest and face. His shout came out as a yelp, and blood spurted from a crushed nose. Neil charged, ducking under the man's wild head cut, and punched him in the throat, feeling cartilage crunch. The knight flopped to earth like a scarecrow cut from its pole.

Unwilling to take any chances, Neil picked up the man's sword and decapitated him. It took two chops.

He turned, panting, to find Austra still whimpering, curled up on the ground.

"Austra? Are you all right?" he asked.

"Stay back," she gasped. "You're one of them. You must be."

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw you die!" she wailed.

"Oh," he said, suddenly understanding. "No, Austra. The cut wasn't that bad, and a lady had her men fish me from the water. I almost died, yes, but I'm not a nauschalk."

"I don't know that name," she replied. "But Cazio cut one's head off, and it was still moving." She was looking up at him now, her eyes flooded with tears.

Neil glanced back at the man he had just decapitated. He didn't seem to be moving. "Well, I'm not like that," he said. "Cut my head off, and I'm dead, I promise you." He knelt and took her by the shoulders. "Austra," he said, gently, "I fought them, remember? So you could board the ship. Why would I do that if I were one of them?"

"I-suppose you're right," she said. "But the shock, too many shocks, you know. Too much of this. Too much."

He felt pity for the girl, but he didn't have time to indulge it. "Austra," he asked, gently but firmly, "where is Anne?"

"I don't know," Austra replied despondently. "She's supposed to be with Artore and his sons, and they were supposed to be going to Eslen, but then I saw them bring Artore into the camp, and I thought one of the monks must have heard me, though I was a hundred yards away-"

"Austra, are there more of these fellows in the woods?"

She nodded her head.

"Okay, then-quietly, let's go somewhere safer, and then you'll tell me everything, yes? Sort it out in your head while we ride."

"We have to save Cazio," she mumbled.

"Right. We'll save everybody, but first I have to know what's going on, and I don't think it's wise we talk here. Come on."

In a knightly contest, Neil could rightly claim the victor's arms, armor, and horse as the spoils of victory. And though this battle had been fought on less-than-knightly terms, he reckoned the same still applied.

The fellow's sword was a pretty nice one, made of good steel and with a better balance and edge than the one he'd purchased in Paldh. In a melancholy mood, he named the new weapon Cuenslec Cuenslec, "Dead Man's Sword," and hoped it did not prove to be a prophecy that would continue to fulfill itself.

The byrnie of chain mail fit him, if a bit loosely, as did the breastplate and gauntlets. The greaves were too long, however. The helm was tied to the horse, along with two spears, but the beast was unapproachable.

In fact, the horse was something of a problem. It would probably return to camp, alerting the dead man's companions to his fate. Of course, they would know eventually, when he failed to return, but later was better than sooner. Still, he didn't feel like killing the poor beast. Instead he took the rope he tethered Prospect with at night, made a lasso, and after a few tries captured him. Then he tied the other end of the rope to a tree.

Thus equipped, he and Austra returned to Prospect and rode back out of the forest, over a little hill and beyond sight of both the forest and the road, which felt safer than hiding in the woods. There he listened as Austra told her story and described the scene at the seid seid.

"You shouldn't have left Anne," he told her.

"I don't see how you can say that, after she betrayed you," Austra snapped. Then, looking chagrined, she went on, "Besides, she was safe, or I thought she was. Cazio and z'Acatto weren't."

"Yes, but how did you reckon to take on those knights by yourself?"

"I thought I might sneak in and cut their bonds," she replied, "but so far I haven't been able to get close enough."

"And you haven't see Anne at all."

"No," Austra said.

"Do you think they've killed her?"

"I don't know," Austra said miserably. "They've got Artore and his sons. They must have killed one of them, because they brought an extra horse. But I counted, and there wasn't a horse for Anne."

"So you believe she got away?"

"I hope so," Austra said. "This is all my fault. She would never have come here except for me."

"There's no point in worrying over that," Neil soothed. "Concentrate on what you can do, not what you could could have done." He was surprised to hear himself say the words, and even more surprised to realize that he actually meant them-not just for Austra, but for himself. have done." He was surprised to hear himself say the words, and even more surprised to realize that he actually meant them-not just for Austra, but for himself.

Yes, he had failed, several times now. He would probably fail again, but the thing a man did-the thing his father would have told him to do-was to keep trying.

"If Anne's alive," he reasoned, "she's on the other side of the forest. We can't go through on the road, or they'll ambush us the way they did your friends. But we have to go through-we have to find out if she's still alive."

"But Cazio-"

"There are at least two knights left, one of them a nauschalk. How many priests and men-at-arms? How many would I have to fight altogether?"

"Some of them come and go," she said. "But I think maybe five monks and fifteen fighting men."

"That's too many," Neil said. "They'll kill me, and kill you, and then kill your Cazio and z'Acatto, and we won't have served the queen-or Anne-very well. Our duty is to them first, do you understand?"

Austra bowed her head. "Yes," she agreed.

"And you won't try and run off again?"