"To the Mountains of the Hare," he heard himself say instead. "I can protect us there."

And he kissed her again.

FASTER WAS thunder beneath Anne as she galloped across the Sleeve. Anne felt a fierce grin pull at her mouth, and she shouted her joy up to whatever saints were listening.

It had been so long since she had ridden for the sheer fun of it. Once she had spent most of her time like this, eluding the pursuers her mother would send to bring her back for lessons or court. Just she and Faster and sometimes Austra.

Austra should be with Cazio by now. She hoped they were happy.

That thought brought her spirits down a bit. She wasn't a carefree girl anymore, was she? The horsemen following her right now weren't chasing her; they were her bodyguard, at her command.

She saw more horsemen up ahead, where the Sleeve began to turn, and slowed down a bit. They wore red, gold, and black over their light armor, and their shields bore a serpent and a wave. She recognized neither the colors nor their emblem. They were practicing some sort of riding formation, wielding compact bows. Targets had been set up, and they were already well feathered.

As she continued to watch, she noticed that one of the riders was quite slight, was indeed a woman. She fastened her gaze on that one, watching as she stood in her stirrups and casually loosed an arrow. It struck, quivering, in the heart of one of the targets. She wheeled her mount, already drawing another shaft from her quiver.

"Whose colors are those?" Anne asked Captain Eltier, the short, balding Craftsman who commanded her horse guard.

"The earl of Cape Chavel, Highness," he replied.

"And Cape Chavel has women warriors?"

"Not that I know of, madame."

A few moments later the horsemen broke off their activity, and two came toward them: the earl and the woman.

They stopped about ten kingsyards away, dismounted, and knelt. Anne saw that the woman was young, probably no more than fifteen.

"Rise," Anne said. "How are you today, Cape Chavel?"

"Very well," he said. "Just riding with my light horse."

"And this is one of your archers?"

His smile broadened. This is my sister, Emily. Not officially a member of the company, but I can't stop her from practicing with us."

Emily did a curtsy. "Pleased to meet you, Your Majesty."

"You do very well with that bow," Anne told the girl.

"Thank you, Majesty," she said.

An impulse struck her. "Would you two care to ride with me for a bit?" she asked.

"It would be an honor, Highness," the earl said.

They mounted back up and continued along the edge of the Sleeve where it dropped off steeply to the marshy rinns far below.

"That must be Eslen-of-Shadows," Emily said, pointing to the somber stone structures poking up here and there through the canopy.

"It is," Anne said, feeling the faintest chill. That was another place where she once had spent a lot of time, but unlike the Sleeve, she had no interest in revisiting it.

"It's big," Emily said. "Much grander than the one in Ralegh."

"Well, more people have died here, I suppose," Anne said.

"Oh," the girl said. She sounded uncomfortable, as if suddenly remembering how many of Anne's family had lately gone there.

"Come this way," Anne said. "There are more cheerful things to see on Ynis."

She nudged Faster back to a run, and the others fell easily in with her. The earl and his sister were as used to riding as walking; she could see that right away.

She led them toward the twin hills of Tom Woth and Tom Cast, glancing wistfully at the Snake, the sharp descent she once had used to escape pursuit into the rinns. None of that today. She led them instead up the grassy slope of Tom Cast, switching back and around until they reached its great bald summit, from which vantage the whole island of Ynis was laid out for them.

"It's so beautiful," Emily gasped. "So much to see in every direction."

Anne had been there a hundred times before, but not since returning. She was surprised to discover that it all looked suddenly new to her, too.

East, the city of Eslen rose up in three magnificent tiers topped by the many-towered castle itself. North was the Dew River and the vast lake that was the King's Poel, flooded by her uncle Robert and now colorful with hundreds of ships flying the colors of Liery, Crotheny, and Hornladh. The mist-covered rinns stretched south to where the mighty Warlock River shimmered like fish scales in the midmorning sun and also to the west…

"Thornrath," the earl sighed.

"I never could have imagined," Emily murmured.

"The mightiest wall ever built by Mannish hands," Captain Eltier said.

That it was. The island of Ynis was formed in the confluence of the Dew and Warlock rivers where they opened into Foambreaker Bay. Thornrath cut the bay in half, a wall of ivory stone more than three leagues long. It had seven great towers and seven arches each big enough for two men-of-war to sail through safely. It was seven hundred years old; since its building Eslen had never been taken by sea.

"It's all very grand," Emily said. "Thank you for showing me this." Her eyes sparkled.

Anne nodded. "Well, you came a long way to see it."

She turned to her brother. "Why did you bring her here, Cape Chavel? I'm sure she was safer in Virgenya."

"No, I don't think she was," the earl said. "There she might be taken hostage and used to persuade me to return. Here I can keep an eye on her."

"Anyway," Emily said, "I'd rather be here than safe. It's all very exciting."

"What will you do when your brother goes to war?"

"I was hoping for a favor there, Majesty," the earl said.

"What is that, Cape Chavel?"

"If some lady could be found who needs a maid…" He trailed off, looking a bit embarrassed.

"What's this?" Emily said. "Why can't I ride with you?" She turned to Anne. "I'm really not much good at sewing."

"I might be able to manage to please you both," Anne said. "I am presently in need of a maid, and your brother, for a time at least, will ride with me. I want to see personally how his men perform."

"Majesty," the earl said, "that is very generous."

"It is also very dangerous, Cape Chavel. Any maid of mine is in constant peril."

"I can handle a knife and sword as well as a bow," Emily said.

The earl pursed his lips and shot his sister a look probably meant to silence her.

"It's true," he conceded after a moment. "She can handle herself. There's peril everywhere, Your Majesty. You may attract danger, but from what I've heard, you're also good at repelling it. And to have my sister near me-it really is more than I could have hoped for."

"Well, I promise nothing, but we shall try it out for a few days and see how we get along."

Emily clapped her hands together but did not giggle. That in itself was promising.

A few bells later, in the Warhearth, the fresh air of the sunlit Sleeve seemed very far away. It wasn't just the lack of windows but the heaviness of the room itself and the massive paintings of her family's martial past. One picture in particular seemed to have singled her out. It depicted from behind the first few ranks of an army on some sort of rise, so near the bottom of the frame of the painting that only the tops of helms were visible, and in the next rank full heads, then down to shoulders. At the crest of the hill stood a woman in armor, also showing her back, but with her head turned back to her men. Her hair was flame, twisting about her in coruscating strands, and her eyes were incandescent, inhuman. Her lips were parted and her neck was taut, as if she were shouting.