It was about me, and it wasn't, but I couldn't worry about that now. I moved slowly onwards, looking.

Lucius Perry was masked, so it's a good thing I recognized his smooth dark hair, that and his sleeve, which was of an unusual cut in that glorious peacock blue. When you've mended as many clothes as I have, you sort of memorize fabrics without realizing it. He stood off to one side, leaning against the wall with a drink in his hand, watching everyone.

"Come quickly!" I said, without wasting time. "Artemisia is here, and she needs you!"

He lifted the soft velvet mask off his eyes. "Who-oh, you're the-Wait a minute. What's happened?"

I grabbed his wrist. "Just come!"

I had thought she would fall into his arms weeping, but when she saw her cousin, Artemisia simply held out her trembling hands. "Lucius," she whispered, "take me home."

"I will." But first he took off his mask, and tied it securely over her face. "Come," he said; "come with me, and don't speak a word."

He put an arm around her waist, and she leaned on him, very shaky. "Don't worry," I said encouragingly, and tried to think of something better to say. "Tonight's deed will not go unpunished."

She turned and smiled at me, and then she and Lucius Perry disappeared into the crowd.

Pinking Alcuin's bullyblade Rippington had been nothing, just swordplay and acrobatics. But at least now I knew that I could win a fight against a full-grown man. What Lord Ferris had done to my friend was unspeakable, disgusting. When she told her family, they would probably kill him. But if they didn't, I would.

chapterVI.

IWOKE UP WITH KITTENS ALL OVER MY FACE.IRAISED a hand to brush them off, but they turned out not to have any legs or tails. My uncle the mad duke was sweeping swathes of velvet over me, cheerfully urging, "Get up, get up-have some tea and tell me which one you like best."

I pulled the blankets up around my neck. The swathes were attached to several large bolts of fabric, which a nervous shop assistant was holding while the duke tried them against my face. I looked aroundfor Marcus, but he, thank god, was not there to see; only Betty stood by, patiently holding a cup of tea. I seized it from her and drank, and said, "My sword!" I had put it away dirty last night. Blick, blick, blick, as Venturus would say. I'd be ages getting the rust out.

"Never mind that," my uncle said. "Just tell me which one you like best."

"I like them all," I said, playing for time while I tried to wake up. There was a fire in the hearth, and the sun coming through the thick old windows was mid-afternoonish. I remembered coming home in the thin light of dawn, my uncle a dead weight in the sedan chair beside me. He'd had his fill of the red-haired artist and a number of other stimulants, besides. There'd been no moving him without two hefty footmen.

I'd tumbled into bed without a thought for anything other than how soft it was.

"Well, you're not having them all, just one."

"One what? You shouldn't be here," I groused. "I'm not even dressed."

"Don't be prudish. You can defend yourself perfectly well. You proved that last night. I am very, very pleased. Also relieved. I'm making you a present: a lovely velvet cloak. Made to your measure, with room to grow. Now, which do you like best?"

I clutched at the nearest velvet, and to my shame I started to cry. It was unbelievable. I had almost killed a man last night, and now I was going to have the cloak of my dreams. And my friend Artemisia had been forced in a crowded ballroom, in her beautiful lavender gown.

IT'S NOT TO BE BORNE."LADYFITZ-LEVI PUT HER HANDSon her breast. "Really, Fitz, it is intolerable."

"Agreed." Her husband shifted his chair closer to the fire, and picked a spot of egg off his vest.

"Something must be done."

"Indeed."

"I can hardly bear it."

"Terrible." Her husband shook his head in annoyance. "What on earth was she thinking of, running off like that? A young lady betrothed, and to such a place. It's a wonder she wasn't set upon by rogues of the vilest kind." His lady nodded. "Of course, Ferris had no business taking her there. A grown man like that, helping her in a schoolgirl prank. I thought he had more sense."

"It was she, my dear, who lacked sense. I'm sure she just twisted Ferris round her little finger, as she always does. She got in over her head, and now she's sorry and wants to call off the wedding. Well, I'm not having it. She'll take the consequences of her folly and make us proud in the end, and that is that."

"I saw those flowers he sent this morning; man's besotted."

"He surely must be. She's a lucky girl and doesn't even know it. Refusing her food like that. I've tried all morning, but I cannot talk sense into her."

"Well, girls have their humors. We cannotforce her to eat." "Do you think so?" Nervously his wife twisted her lace fichu in her ringed fingers. "They always forced me to eat. Boiled carrots. I hated them."

"I think she's a bit old for boiled carrots," said her husband. "But you're welcome to try."

"She's a bit old to be carrying on like a baby! Maybe boiled carrots is what she deserves."

"Why don't you make her something she particularly likes? A nice cake, or something."

"She refused her toast and chocolate; am I to treat her like an invalid? No, indeed. She must know that I am very displeased. All she will say is that she wants you to challenge Lord Ferris."

Lord Fitz-Levi snorted. "Why would I want to do that? Ruin the wedding and ruin her name at the same time? And ruin our highest ally in the Council of Lords? I'm counting on him to help Robbie to a good post this year. What a lot of fuss over nothing."

"That's what I told her. Do you know, I think we should move the wedding up? They'll have to work harder on the gown, but it will be worth it. Oh, she'll make a lovely bride!"

THEDUKETREMONTAINE PERSONALLY SIGNED THEorder for his niece's new garment, all three yards of it, silk lining and tassels and all. He signed it with a flourish, and picked up his next piece of business, ignoring the opening of the study door, since he knew perfectly well who it was.

"Are you happy now?" the Ugly Girl said. "Your niece is the talk of the town."

"How would you know?" the duke asked, amused. "You don't get out much."

She held up a cheap sheet of paper, as cheaply printed. It was a rude cartoon of a tall, thin, unhappy-looking man and a bosomy girl with a sword pointed upwards; the words underneath were: "Oh, no! My Tool is useless, I must find a Girl to do the Work for me!"

He took the page from her, and held it up to a candle. "Don't let her see it. And if she does, don't explain it to her."

"What about you? Don't you mind?"

The duke singed the edges of the page so that they were evenly crisped all round. "About this one more than any of the others? Why should I? I'm a popular figure. They like doing my nose." He turned it around again; the lowest letters, which named the printer and engraver, blackened away. "Alcuin's not the first of my discards to try something like this: nasty drawings, imprecations on my manhood. Horrible, isn't it?" he said cheerfully. "Do you think I should have him killed, or what?"

"You've already subjected your pretty friend to a fate worse than death, haven't you?" she said peevishly. "Let's leave it at that. What I want to know is, are you through with the girl, or just beginning?"

"I didn't know you were so fond of her," the duke said.

"I'm not. It's a theoretical question. I'm interested in the way your mind works-or doesn't work,depending."

"Do you mean: she's done her trick, now I should find some nice nobleman and marry her off? In that case, no, I'm not done with her. Besides, she's company for Marcus. He needs more friends his own age."

THE FIRST LETTER REACHED ME THE NEXT MORNING. It was addressed to the Lady Katherine at Tremontaine House, and had clearly passed through several hands, not all of them clean.

The sealing wax was scented, and the loopy handwriting was in violet ink. But there were spots on the paper where tears had made the ink run, and the letters sloped downward across the page.

Dearest Friend,it read.I am beset. I am without hope. My parents Know All, but my woe means nothing to them. Theyare monsters and tyrants. They want me to marry him, still. I will die, first.

You understand. You are the only one who does. I will never forget your kindness to me. Do not try to visit me. I am a prisoner here. But if you can contrive to send a line or two of simple hope to me in my wretched misery, it will speak more than volumes of insincere verse from less noble souls than yours. I hope this letter finds you well. I will bribe the underhousemaid with my last year's silk stockings to bring it to you from your own- Stella I stuffed it in my pocket when Marcus came in. Of course he noticed.

"From your mother?" he said.

"No. You know that's not allowed."

"I don't care." He studied his nails. "I'm your friend. I'll help you, if you like."

"I don't need help, thanks."

My friend took a step backwards. "I guess not. After that swordfight, and all. The duke's pleased, anyway. Do whatever you want; you could fill your room with apes and parrots, and he'd only ask if you wanted to feed them oranges."

"I don't want parrots," I said. He did not look happy. "Do you want to play shesh?" I asked, partly to make him feel better, and partly to distract him from the letter.

"Not really."

"Well, then...do you want to hear about my swordfight?"

"Dying to tell me, are you?"

"Well, who else am I going to tell?" I was dying to tell someone, after all. It was my first real fight, and I had won! I almost wished that Venturus were still around, so I could tell him. Marcus lacked expertise and enthusiasm, but at least he would listen. I decided to ignore his mood and continued ruefully, "Betty will only start going on about how I should have seen St Vier in his heyday or something; besides, I want to get it all clear in my head before I have to run through it for Phillip Drake so he can tell me everything Idid wrong."

Marcus wasn't interested in the subtleties of my swordplay, but he was very enthusiastic about the results. He'd disliked Alcuin more than most, and utterly approved of his public humiliation at the Rogues' Ball. "You've got a real future, Katie," he concluded approvingly, "in hitting irritating people where it hurts. No wonder the duke is pleased with you."

He didn't ask again about my letter, but then, it wasn't the only one I got. Sabina actually wrote to thank me for providing such wonderful entertainment at her party, and did I want to do it again for a private event? Two people offered me jobs as a guard, and a theatre asked if I would be interested in entertaining crowds between shows. The duke's private secretary, Arthur Ghent, offered to open all my letters and take care of the crazy ones for me. But I didn't want him to see what was coming to me, because I was expecting another one soon from Artemisia.

I had written her back saying: Stella- To live is to hope, and while we breathe, we hope and live.(That was from the book.)Though I serve another, I am yours to command. (So was that; it was a line of Tyrian's, but I liked him sometimes better than Fabian. He had sense.)Be brave, be strong, and know that you are ever in the thoughts of your faithful- KT.

Getting it delivered to the Hill without any of my friends on the duke's staff knowing about it would be tricky. In the end, I went out on the streets of Riverside and picked the hungriest kid I could find.

"Watch it, pal," he said, and I said, "You!" because it was the one who had tried to rob me that first day in the snow. He had nerve, even if he didn't have much sense. His name was Kevin, and I gave him two coppers to carry my letter to Artemisia's maid, with the promise of five more if he came back with a ribbon to prove it had gotten there.

It was a lavender ribbon. I tied it around my wrist under my shirt, as a token not to forget.

AFTER A FEW DAYS,ARTEMISIA'S PARENTS WERE ATtheir wits' end.

"I am at wits' end, Fitz," his lady said to him for the third time that hour. "She's showing no sense whatsoever."

"Seems simple enough," her husband repeated. "Easy for her, really. She's already agreed once to this marriage. She just has to do it again. Simple."

"It's not as if we forced her into it, is it? We let her choose for herself, and she chose Lord F."

"Certainly she did." Lord Fitz-Levi examined his neckcloth in the mirror. It had held up remarkably well under the morning's stresses. "All this fuss over a little cuddle in the dark."

"They were, after all, betrothed." He gave a final tug to put it in place. "She'll settle down once she's married, god love her."

But their daughter seemed to have suffered a sea change. She spoke wildly, most unlike herself. She had no wish to go out, she said, lest she encounterhim . She refused even the most tempting food, and would not try on her wedding dress, although it was magnificent. There was talk of a physician, or a trip to the country, and they put it about that she was down with the grippe. No one but her maid noticed the purple inkstain on her middle finger.

Gentle Friend, Do not believe anything they say of me. Not even if you hear the wedding is going forward. If it does, it is without my consent. They say I am to blame. I do not understand how that could be.

Men are supposed to protect women. And when they do insult them, their fathers and brothers are supposed to rush to their defense, not call them horrible names and laugh at their distress.

How I envy you. Your uncle may be mad, but at least he lets you fight back.

The anguished, Stella I replied to her at once: Lady Stella, I am not so gentle a friend that I am not filled with righteous wrath on your account. By no means hearken to the voices of those who say it was your fault, because it wasn't. Any more than it is my fault that I have to learn the sword and wear funny clothes. They are bigger than we are, and older and have more money and can make us do things we don't want to. Remember when we met at my uncle's ball? I thought you were so brave and elegant and daring, and you were, too. I wished I could be like you.

I have a new cloak now. It is moss green figured velvet with gold tassels and a silk lining called moth's wing. I wish you could see it.

Your family is wrong, that's all. Don't get married to him, whatever you do.

I looked at our two letters, sitting side by side.He lets you fight back . What would I do in her place?

Well, that was the wrong question, because I would never be in her place. Thanks to the duke, no one like Lord Ferris was ever going to want to marry me. Did that mean my uncle was protecting me? If someone violated me, would he have them killed without question? I bet he would. But did that mean he cared, or just that he was crazy and bloody-minded? How could Artemisia's parents love her and not believe her now?

Oh, it was hopeless. I wasn't Artemisia, and she wasn't me.

I liked the way Artemisia saw me as a heroic swordsman. Was St Vier heroic? He was, in his way, as much a legend asThe Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death . What would he say about Artemisia?

He'd probably say she shouldn't have been there in the first place without knowing how to defendherself, and he was probably right. But what did he know about it? He'd always been able to defend himself. He'd probably never been to a ball in his life, and if he had, he didn't know what it was like to hope you were pretty, and that people would like your dress and ask you to dance.... What did he know? What did any of them know?

Of course her father and brother were hopeless. They didn't know, either.

I did.

I picked up my pen again.

The insult is not to be borne,I wrote.If neither father nor brother will rise to your defense, then the lot must fall to one who, however unworthy of the position, is eager to stand as your champion.

Not only for your own sake, but for that of all ladies misprised. What, after all, am I doing here, anyway? To what end my skills, if not for this? I wear your ribbon, and will avenge your wrong.

And woe to he who stands in my way!

Your loving friend and staunch defender, KT.

But don't worry,I added in postscript.I'm not telling anyone.

I sealed it with candlewax and went looking for Kevin to deliver it. He was eager for the work. "So am I, like, your new guard or something?" he asked. "I'd make a good guard."

"You are my private messenger," I said. "It's very confidential."

"Huh?"

"Secret. Go and return within the hour, and I will have another task for you. Now, make it snappy!"