Kilt squeezed the soldier on the arm in farewell. "Our mother's very ill. I have to find Lily quickly. I know it's probably meaningless to you but Lo blesses you."

The man nodded and shrugged. "I don't mind who blesses me, so long as I'm blessed," he said, grinning in the direction of the innkeeper, who had been following the exchange and who returned the grin.

Once outside Kilt asked a passing woman for directions to the barracks, glad of his disguise as a member of the clergy. This costume always worked wonders at loosening people's tongues...even barbarian tongues, it seemed, he thought.

The barracks was on the fringe of the town. Kilt walked there, marveling once again at the beauty of the buildings he'd forgotten, reminding himself that the coin of the Set was now all minted here. Woodingdene was a wealthy town for sure, going by the number of people busy at their daily business and the number of elegant carriages plying the town.

At the barracks he was confronted by a huge soldier bearing the green tatua.

"Ah, I'm Pastor Jeves," Kilt said genially.

The man didn't look in the slight bit impressed. "And?"

"And I'm trying to find one of your soldiers by the name of Ronder."

"Why?" the man asked, his somber expression unchanged.

"I need to talk to him."

"About what?"

"Well, I feel it's best explained to him."

"Except I'm the man in charge of the gate, Pastor Jeves."

"Yes, indeed. Well, Shev, who I met at The Emperor's Head, seems to think-"

"Shev?"

"Yes, wearing the green tatua."

"I know who he is. He sent you?"

"Yes. We've just shared an ale together," Kilt said, skirting the truth. "He told me to tell whomever was on duty that it would be all right for me to speak with the soldier."

"Wait here," the man said. He called over a young lad and muttered something to him. The youngster ran off and the guard returned to the gate. "Ronder's being called."

"Thank you. It's lucky I ran into Shev."

"He's one of General Stracker's lieutenants."

"Ah, what a stroke of luck for me, then."

"Shev must have been in a good mood to offer help."

"I couldn't tell you," Kilt said, his words genuine. "He didn't look any different from his companions."

"General Stracker doesn't look any different from us. He prefers equality."

"Truly. How very...er...spiritual," Kilt said. The man frowned at him. "Well, what I mean is, it's not a creed one comes across often. I admire it." He smiled. "Naturally...being a man of Lo," he added.

"General Stracker is a man to be admired," the Green said.

"I'm sure. Have you met the emperor?" Did he detect a soft sneer that was gone as quickly as it arrived?

"Know him. I played with him as a boy."

"Really? How extraordinary. Our old system of kings and queens, well, they never played with commoners, I don't believe." Kilt reached out and slapped the man playfully on the arm.

"Too high and mighty," the man growled.

"Mmm, well," Kilt contrived a self-conscious smile, "we've had ten anni of the emperor's rule now and I have to say it's-"

"And turning too much into a Set man," the soldier continued as though Kilt hadn't spoken. "Forgotten his roots."

A spike of fresh interest moved through Kilt. "Is that an issue for the men?" he asked, keeping his voice low, trying not to disturb the man's musings.

"We hate his wife," the man said. The venom in his tone surprised Kilt.

Faris nodded. "A Set woman, I gather."

"Worse. A noble from the old days. He should have taken a Steppes wife."

"I understand," Kilt soothed, seeing someone approaching in the distance. He looked down, not wanting to challenge the big soldier with his gaze, but wishing he could keep exploring this conversation. "Perhaps the general would make a better leader?"

"I'd follow him into the sea even if I had boulders tied to my feet," the guard helplessly answered. "Many of us believe it is time to overthrow our former ruler. It is time for change."

"You want General Stracker to be emperor?"

"Stracker has not given over his heritage. He is Steppes through and through, which is more than we can say for Emperor Loethar these days."

Kilt had run out of time. "Ah." He tapped the man's arm, releasing him. "Is this Ronder?"

The huge guard turned, looking momentarily confused. "That's him." He beckoned to the approaching man, who hurried up to the gate.

"You're looking for me?" the newcomer asked.

He was younger than Kilt had expected. Holding out a hand in welcome, he said, "I am. My name is Pastor Jeves."

Ronder didn't seem to notice the salutary gesture. Nodding at Kilt, he said, "We can talk over there. What is it you seek?"

Kilt inwardly sighed at his touch being ignored. The hard way then. As he and Ronder walked a little away from the gate of the barracks, he explained, "I'm looking for my sister. Her name is Lily Jeves and I was told that you might have escorted her into Woodingdene."

"I did. She was with her husband. They were only here a short time, just for their listing."

"Listing?"

"Where are you from, Pastor?"

"The south. I've been traveling a while, though," Kilt said carefully. He could feel a familiar tingling in his nose. It would happen soon. He would try once more. "Forgive me, could you hold this?" he asked, handing over the small ruck-sack that he was carrying. "I'm going to sneeze," he lied, digging furiously in his pockets.

Astonished at the request but presumably feeling unable to ignore it, the soldier took the bag. Kilt miraculously found his kerchief. "Thank you," he said and as the sack was returned to him, he touched the man's hand in a move that was made to appear inadvertent. "Er, you were saying," he added. "About the list?"

"Yes," the man said. "We are keeping a list of the Vested for the empire. Your sister and her husband were brought here to be listed with-"

"Lily? Why?" Kilt interrupted.

The man looked vaguely irritated. "Why would you ask? You're her brother! Because she is Vested, of course."

"I see," Kilt said, grateful that his voice sounded normal.

"Although we were mostly interested in her husband," Ronder added.

"I can imagine that," Kilt remarked mildly.

Ronder nodded. "They were tested and permitted to leave."

"Tested? How so?"

Ronder smiled. "His name is Vulpan. You must have been away a long time not to know of him."

Fear crept through Kilt's body, beginning at the tip of his spine and working upward and outward. "Master Vulpan, that's right, I have heard of him. The blood taster, right?"

"That's the one. He was here for a while."

"And now he's gone?"

"Preparing to leave, heading north."

"Why?"

"General Stracker has given orders."

"Who are you hunting?"

"The outlaw called Faris."

"No one's seen him, to my knowledge."

"We don't need to. We think Vulpan's tasted his blood."

Kilt knew he couldn't push too hard. "Anyway, that's not any of my business," he retreated. "So Master Vulpan *tasted' my sister?" He tried to make it sound like a thoroughly normal query.

"I assume so. They were certainly permitted to leave by Master Vulpan and that wouldn't have occurred if he wasn't satisfied."

How in Lo's name had Lily passed the test? "Where does Master Vulpan stay when he's in Woodingdene?" Kilt pushed.

"In the mayor's residence."

"I see. I don't suppose you know which direction my family headed?"

Ronder shrugged. "I presume back to the palace. Master Felt told me quite firmly he was expected there." The man looked suddenly taken aback. "Your nose is bleeding, Pastor Jeves."

Kilt shook his head, feigning disgust. "Oh dear. This happens from time to time. Anxiety, I think. Well, I'll be on my way," he said, holding the kerchief to his nostrils. He could feel the blood flowing. "Sorry about this." He held out his hand. "Thank you."

The man looked uncertain. He had no desire, clearly, to take Kilt's bloodied hand. Wiping his hand on his knapsack.

Kilt re-extended it. "My apology. Thank you again. Shev was right, you were extremely helpful."

Ronder shrugged, and shook hands reluctantly. "Your sister is nice. Her husband was a bit strange, though." He shook his head as if slightly confused.

When he looked back, Kilt Faris was gone.

Lily was surprised how late it was when she woke with a start. She'd had an unsettling vision that she'd wake to find herself in the arms of Kirin Felt, believing him to be Kilt. Even worse she had the even more disturbing notion that she might have permitted him to treat her as every inch his wife.

She sat up, her heart thumping, and realized that not only was she still fully dressed but the other side of the bed was empty, barely disturbed. Now she felt ridiculous. But as she sat up she realized the real nightmare still existed. She was married...and not to Kilt. Lily rubbed the sleep from her eyes and shook her head. The two men's names even sounded similar! But that was where the similarities ended. Kirin was Vested, and although their build was not so different, their looks were. Kirin was fair in contrast to Kilt and had finer features. Kilt had a more distinct jawline, and preferred a very close shaved beard-when he wasn't in one of his disguises-and that quiet, controlled, remote and often intimidating manner of his was in direct contrast to Kirin's gentler, more open way. Actually, now that she came to consider it, she felt she'd learned at least as much about Kirin in the short time they'd been thrown together as she knew about Kilt from the ten anni they'd shared. And, frankly, what she'd learned about Kilt had mostly come from Jewd. Kilt never offered information and was certainly cagey about his past.

Secretive. Yes, that's how she'd describe Kilt. No wonder King Brennus had decided he was the perfect choice to guard and raise Leo. Poor Leo. He had been deeply troubled by Kilt's decision to meet with the man Freath. She had privately agreed with Leo that it was madness to let that traitorous snake anywhere near them. But there was no one more slippery than Kilt and despite his guarded manner she trusted him and his judgment implicitly. If Kilt believed that Freath was worth listening to, she was happy to go along with the plan.

She'd warned Jewd, because Kilt wasn't listening, that meeting Freath might push Leo over the edge. This would be his first contact with the world of his childhood and she imagined it would bring back a wealth of bloody, brutal and fearful memories. And the young king was as skittish as she had ever known him. He was a man now, eager to make his own decisions, very aware of his position even though he so rarely mentioned it, and driven by a deep need for revenge. She'd mentioned this several times to Kilt but his only response had been that what Leo really needed was to lie with a woman for the first time.

Kirin, on the other hand, had been sensitive about her situation, although his wedding night kiss had been far from careful...or contrived. Lily stood and stretched. Granted, he'd had to make it look real. They'd had an audience cheering their every move, after all. But there had been passion in that kiss. Lily pursed her lips, remembering it now; recalling with a flush of discomfort that she'd hardly held back either.

Lily moved to the jug and bowl, grateful to find the water was still fresh and unused. She poured out some water, lathered up some of the soap leaves and washed her face of the sleep...and her embarrassment. Reaching for a small towel, she dried her face, staring into the small mirror. There she was-as traitorous as the man called Freath, pretending to be faithful.

As the thought crossed her mind, Lily stepped back, shocked. That wasn't true! No! She loved Kilt. In order to protect her life, and their secret, she'd had to marry Kirin publicly and then kiss him publicly. Nothing else had happened. They'd talked through the night until they'd both fallen asleep. She was sure she'd closed her eyes and lost track of the conversation first. And Kirin had covered her with blankets and left her undisturbed. That was all. He hadn't laid a hand on her, nor she him.

But the kiss? It felt so real, whispered a small, treacherous voice in her mind.

"The kiss was a ruse!" she hissed quietly at her reflection, flinging the towel at the mirror.

"Lily, my darling?" said a hesitant voice, accompanied by a gentle tap on the door.

"Kirin?"

"It's me," he answered, more normally.

"I...er, I'm just tidying myself."

"I've ordered some breakfast for you. Will you be long?"

"I'll meet you downstairs shortly," she said, her cheeks burning again. She hoped he hadn't heard her talking to herself.

"All right. Be quick or your oats will cool."

She pulled off her clothes and washed herself properly, taking extra time that she knew she really didn't have to dampen and smooth down her hair as best she could. She grabbed at the few sprigs of burned rosemary left for guests and quickly cleaned her teeth, rinsing with the mint vinegar that had also been laid out the night before. After re-dressing in her riding clothes, she felt she looked presentable again. Her wedding attire she folded neatly and carried downstairs where Kirin rose to greet her, moving around to pull out a chair at the small table he'd chosen.

"Good morning," he said, smiling. "Just in time," he added as the serving girl arrived with a steaming bowl of oats. "I've eaten. You go ahead," he urged as the girl set down honey, some nuts, and dried fruits.