Muriele noticed.

"I don't think they'll attack us, Sir Neil," she said.

"No," Fail snapped. "Why should they when you'll deliver yourself to them tomorrow?"

"The old law-"

"Even Aradal won't vouch for its keeping," the duke pointed out.

"Niece, you've just escaped one prison. Why must you hurry back into another? They'll hold you hostage to better bargain with Anne. Lady Berrye, reason with her."

Alis shrugged. "I serve at the pleasure of Queen Muriele," she said. "I find her reasonable enough."

"And don't forget, we have hostages of our own," Muriele added.

"Schalksweih?" Fail muttered. "How could I forget? It was I took him captive and his ship a prize. But against you…"

"He's a favorite of Marcomir's," she said. "They have sued for his release."

Fail looked heavenward, shaking his head.

"Why are you really doing this, dove?"

"What else should I do? Knit stockings while my daughter rides into battle? Arrange flowers as army after army arrays against us?"

"Why not, Majesty?" Neil interjected.

"Excuse me, Sir Neil?"

"Why not?" he repeated "The fleet of Hansa is inside our borders, and their land army is on the march. What can you say that will deter them? Sir Fail is right: You've suffered enough, milady."

"How much I've suffered is not at issue," Muriele countered. "And although I'm not flattered by your opinion of my political abilities, I see a chance to stop this war, and I will take it. I've discussed this with Anne. She will not yield one grain of our dirt if I am taken hostage."

"She fought like a demon to retrieve you from Robert," Fail pointed out. "Things have changed," Muriele said.

Anne has changed, Neil reflected. Muriele was probably right in that: The empress would not be intimidated even by threats to her own mother.

He wondered where she was now: on the throne or off killing churchmen. The latter had become almost a sport to her.

"Well," Fail said. "I'll go."

"One of our best sea commanders? It's out of the question. You're needed here, guarding our waves. Anyway, the strain of keeping your sword sheathed would split the vein on your forehead. You're not much of a diplomat, Uncle."

"And you are?"

She shrugged. "I've seen it done, and I have the station for it, even though I am a woman." She paused. "Anne wants me to go, Uncle. One of her visions. She says there's a chance."

"Visions," he snorted.

"She knew you were coming with the fleet," Neil said. "She knew when. It's why we knew we had to take down Thornrath so quickly."

"Aye," Fail muttered, chewing his lip. "Maybe her visions are true. But your own daughter, sending you to the viper's den-it's hard to fathom."

"Majesty," Neil said. "I know I'm not much use-"

"Oh, you're going," Muriele said. "Why do you think you're here? If it were my decision, you would still be abed."

Neil frowned. "You mean to say the empress wants me to go to Hansa?"

"She was quite adamant about it."

"I see."

Muriele shifted in her saddle.

"Do you feel slighted, not being in her guard?" she asked.

That took him by surprise. "Milady?"

"Are you disappointed at being returned to my service?" she amplified.

He shook his head. "Majesty, I always considered myself in your service. When I was guarding Anne, I was following your orders. I am your man and do not hope to be anyone else's."

He didn't add that he found Anne more than a little uncanny, and although he knew firsthand that some in the Church had turned to darkness, he was happy not to be directly involved in Anne's vendetta against z'Irbina.

Muriele took in his speech without a hint of changed expression, then nodded slightly.

"Very well. Once we return to camp, pick the men who will accompany us. In the morning we'll begin our journey to Hansa."

Neil nodded and began thinking about who to take along.

More than ever, he felt like prey beneath a hunter sky.

ASPAR WHITE tried to match his breath to the faint breeze through the forest fringe, to be as still as a stump as the monster approached. It was just a shape at the moment, about twice the size of a horse and slouching through the narrow white boles of the aspens. But he smelled autumn leaves although it was high summer, and when its eyes glittered like blue lightning through the branches, he felt the poison in its blood.

It wasn't a surprise. The world was made of monsters now, and he had fought plenty. Sceat, he'd met their mother.

A few jays were shrieking at the thing, but most of the other bird sounds were gone, because most birds weren't as blind, stupid, brave as jays.

Maybe it'll just go by, he thought. Maybe it'll just pass on by.

He was already tired; that was the damned thing. His leg ached, and his lungs hurt. His muscles were all soft, and his vision kept going blurry.

Half a bell he'd been out there, at the most, working himself no harder than a baby taking pap. Just looking across the meadow.

Pass, he thought. I don't care what you are or where you're going. Just pass.

But it didn't, of course. Instead, he heard it pause and snuffle and then saw the actinic flash of its eyes. It stepped from the trees and into the field, moving toward Aspar as he waited in the cover of the trees on his side.

"Hello, luvileh," he muttered, quickly thrusting four more arrows into the soft earth before him. No point imitating a stump anymore.

It was something new, not a monster he had seen before. From a distance, the thing resembled a bull crossed with a hedgehog. Bony spines bristled from it everywhere, and it was massively front-heavy, with colossal bunches of muscle above forelegs easily twice as long as the hind legs. Its head was blocky, with a single horn spearing forward so that it looked almost like an anvil. The eyes were set deep in bony plate.

He had no idea what to call it. Besides the eyes, he didn't see anything that might be soft.

It bellowed, and he noticed sharp teeth. Were all sedhmhari carnivores? He hadn't met one that wasn't.

"You make pretty babies, Sarnwood witch," he grunted.

And here it came.

His first shot skittered off the armored skull, as did the second. The third lodged in the eye socket-or he thought it did, but after a heartbeat it fell out, and the eye was still there.

It was fast and even bigger than he'd thought. It bellowed again, a sound so loud that it hurt his ears. He had time for one more arrow but knew even as he released it that it was going wide of the eye. The monster bounded even faster, hit the ground, and crouched for the final leap, its forelimbs lifted up almost like a man's, reaching for him…

Then the ground collapsed beneath it, and this time it shrieked in surprise and anger as it fell hard onto the sharpened stakes four kingsyards below. A catch snapped above Aspar, releasing a sharpened beam that had been suspended above the pit. He couldn't see it hit but heard a fleshy thud.

Aspar let out a long breath, but an instant later a massive paw-a thick-fingered hand, really-clawed up over the edge of the hole. Aspar scooted back against a tree and used his bow to lever himself up.

The other hand came up, followed by the head. He saw even more of a family resemblance to the utin he once had fought, but if it could speak, it didn't. It strained, blood blowing from its nostrils, and began to crawl from the pit.

"Leshya!" Aspar snapped.

"Here," he heard her say. He felt the wind as another massive log came swinging down, this one aimed to skim along just above the trap. It hit the beast in the horn, crushing it back into its skull, and it vanished into the hole again.