"Barrick thought he was doing what had to be done, too." A flood of pain and loneliness swept through her, so powerful that for a moment it took her breath away. "Oh, I don't want to talk about him," she said at last. "If we're not going to Oscastle, where are we going?"

"Landers Port." He levered himself up to his feet, showing little of his old murderous grace or speed. "A grand name for a town that never saw King Lander at all, but only one of his ships, which foundered off the coast on the way back from Coldgray Moor." Shaso almost smiled. "A fishing town and not much more, but it will suit our needs nicely, as you will see."

"How do you know all this about Lander's ships and Coldgray Moor?"

His smile disappeared. "The greatest battle in the history of the north? And me master of arms for Southmarch? If I did not know any history, then you would have had a reason to hang me in irons in the stronghold, child."

Briony knew when it was a good time to hold her tongue, but she did not always do what was best. "I only asked. And merry Orphanstide to you, too. Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

Shaso shook his head. "I am old and my limbs are sore. Forgive me."

Now he had managed to make her feel bad again. In his own way, he was as difficult to argue with as her father could be. And that thought brought another pang of loneliness.

"Forgiven," was all she said.

By late afternoon, with Kinemarket far behind them and the smell of smoke rising from the cottages they passed, Briony was hungry again. They had sucked the meat from the eggs long before, but Shaso had kept back half the bread and cheese for later and she was finding it hard to think about anything except eating. The only rival to food was imagining what it would be like to crawl under the warm, heavy counterpane of her bed back home, and lie there listening to the very wind and rain that were now making her day so miserable. She wondered where they were going to sleep that night, and whether Shaso was saving the last rind of the cheese for their dinner. Cold cheer that would make.

Look at me! I am a pampered child, she scolded herself. Think ‹›/ Barrick',

wherever he is, on a cold battlefield, or worse. Think of Taiher in a stone dungeon. And look at Shaso. Three days ago, he was in chains, starving, bleeding from his iron manacles. Now he is exiled because of me, walking by my side, and he is forty years or more my elder!

All of which only made her more miserable.

The path they had been following for so long, which had never been anything more than a beaten track, now widened a bit and began to turn away from the coast. The cottages now were so thickly set that they were clearly approaching another large village or town-she could see the life of the place even at twilight, the men coming back from the rainy fields in their woolen jackets, each one carrying some wood for the fire, women calling the children in, older boys and girls herding sheep to their paddocks. Everyone seemed to have a place, all under the gods' careful order, homes and lives that, however humble, made sense. For a moment Briony thought she might burst into tears.

Shaso, however, did not stop to moon over rustic certainties, and had even picked up a little speed, like a horse on the way back to the barn for its evening fodder, so she had to hurry to keep up with him. They both kept their hoods close around their faces, but so did everyone else in this weather; people going in and out of the riverside settlements scarcely even looked up as they passed.

The path wound up the side of the valley, the river now only a murmur in the trees behind them, and Briony was just beginning to wonder how they would walk without a torch on this dark, rain-spattered night, when they reached the top of the valley and looked down on the marvelous lights of a city.

No, not a city, Briony realized after a dazzled moment, but at least a sub¬stantial, prosperous town. In the folds of the hills she could see half a dozen streets sparkling with torches, and more windows lit from within than she could easily count. Set against the great, darkness behind it the bowl of lights seemed a precious thing, a treasure.

"That is the sea, out there," said Shaso, pointing to the darkness beyond Landers Port. "We have worked our way around to it again. The track is wide here, but be careful-it is marshland all about."

Still, despite the boggy emptiness on either side, they walked quickly to take advantage of the fast diminishing twilight. Briony was buoyed by a sudden optimism, the hope that at the very least they would soon be put¬ting something in their stomachs and perhaps getting out of the rain as

well, It was an altogether different matter, this unrelenting drizzle, when one had only to cross a courtyard or, at worst, Market Square-and she had been seldom allowed to do even that without a guardsman holding his cloak above her. But here in the wilderness, with drops battering the top of her head all day like a fall of pebbles and soaking her all the way to her bones, the rain was not an inconvenience but an enemy, patient and cruel.

"Will we stay at an inn, then?" she asked, still half-wishing they could stop in the comfortable house of some loyal noble, risks be damned. "That seems dangerous, too. Do you think no one will remark on a black-skinned man and a young girl?"

"People might remark less than you think," Shaso said with a snort. "Landers Port may never have seen the old king of Syan, but it is a busy fishing town and boats land every day from all parts of Eion and even be¬yond. But no, we will not be stopping in a tavern full of gossips and layabouts. We might as well announce our arrival from the steps of the town's temple."

"Oh, merciful Zoria," she said, knowing that going on about it only made her seem a pampered child, but at this moment not caring. "It's to be another shack, then. Some fisherman's hut stinking of mackerel, with a leaking roof."

"If you do not stop your complaining, I may arrange just such a lodg¬ing," he said, and pulled his cloak tighter against the rain.

Full night had fallen and the city gate was closing, the watchmen bawl¬ing curses at the stragglers. In the undifferentiated mass of wet wool hoods and cloaks, the jostling of people and animals, Briony and Shaso did not seem to attract much notice, but she still held her breath while the guards at the gate looked them over and did not let it out until they were past the walls and inside.

The old man took her by the arm, pulling her out of the crowd of late¬comers and down a tiny side-alley, the houses so close that their upper lev¬els seemed about to butt each other like rams in spring. Briony could smell fish, both fresh and smoked, and here and there even the aroma of fresh bread. Her stomach twisted with desire, but Shaso hurried her down dark streets lit only by guttering cookfires visible through the open doorways. Voices came to her, dreamlike in her hunger and cold, some speaking words she could understand but many that she could not, either because of thick accents or unfamiliar tongues.

They had obviously entered the town's poorest quarter, not.a shred of horn or glass in any window, no light but meager fires in the crowded downstairs rooms, and Briony's heart sank. Reeking straw was going to be her bed tonight, and small, leggy things would be crawling on her in the cold dark. At least she and Shaso had a little money. She would settle for no leavings of cheese and bread from the morning. She would command, or at least demand, that he buy them something hot-a bowl of pottage, per¬haps even some meat if there was such a thing as a clean butcher in this part of the town.

"Be very quiet now," said Shaso abruptly, putting out his arm to stop her. They were in the deepest shadow they had yet found, the only illumina¬tion the nearly invisible, cloud-dimmed moon, and it took her a moment to realize they were standing beside a high stone wall. When he had listened for a moment-Briony could hear nothing at all except her own breath¬ing and the never-ending patter of rain-the old man stepped toward the wall and, to her astonishment, pounded his knuckles on what sounded like a wooden door. How he could have found such a thing in the near-perfect darkness, let alone known it was there in the first place, she had no idea.