He couldn't have said how much time had passed when Omara entered with her aide. He'd heard them coming down the hall, along with someone wearing boots, but only the Sisters came in. Omara's eyes settled on Melody. "Wash yourself, Marshal," she said. "I'll see to her."

Going to the washstand at one side of the room, he filled the basin and washed, while behind him, Omara half sang, half murmured her spells. Most of the blood that reddened the wash water was Melody's, he decided. The knife gash on his arm seemed to have stopped bleeding by itself, though it was deep enough that tonus kept it open. He wondered if Varia's spell of long youth had made a difference.

When he'd washed, he pulled on a pair of breeches, then went back to watch Omara work. The Sister looked up at him. "She'll live," she said, examining him calmly. "Who taught you healing? Varia?"

"We weren't together long enough. I learned it from a shaman in Oz. I was his student for a while, but did poorly on my healing tests."

"It wasn't for lack of talent." Omara turned to her aide. "Narella, bandage her. Tightly so the healing spells work properly. We don't want great scars on the marshal's bride."

She got up from the bed, a handsome woman in uniform, managing to seem long mature, despite her youthful appearance. Macurdy wondered how old she actually was. "Let me bandage your forearm, Macurdy," she said. "Gaping like that, the scar will be large and subject to damage. Besides, the blood needs to circulate through the flesh there."

After she'd washed and bandaged it, she sang a brief formula quite different from Arbel's. When she was done, she stepped back and looked at him. "I'll stay with her tonight. Wounds and blood loss like hers shock deeply. I'll not harm her, nor anyone in my care. I was trained first in healing, and only later in other magicks."

Her aura assured him. "Thank you," he said. "I have to see about something." He finished dressing, donned boots, then belted on his knife and saber, and left. On the lawn, a whole platoon of soldiers were guarding Melody's attacker now, despite his manacles. They'd been sent for, as if Sarsli thought someone might try to rescue the man.

Macurdy stopped a few feet away and stared at the attacker. A youth, really, staring back gray-faced but defiant. "Stand him on his feet," Macurdy said. Two soldiers lifted the young man by the arms so that he cried out with pain. When he was standing, Macurdy drew his knife.

"My wife will live. She won't even be badly scarred. Does that cheer you?"

"It wasn't her I climbed the vines to kill. It was you! And if it hadn't been so dark… But if killing her would hurt you enough, I could still rejoice in it."

"And you like knives. Have you ever been cut by one? Badly?"

The man said nothing, but fear collapsed his aura.

"I'll show you what it's like. First I'll cut off your ears, then your nose, then your horn and balls, and then…"

Abruptly words burst from the young man. "And what of my father? Will you let him do those things to you? A squad of your soldiers raped my mother and sister in front of him, and laughed when he wept and pleaded with them. They took my sister with them when they left with our valuables; God knows what became of her. Afterward my mother killed herself. Will you let him cut you up for that?"

Macurdy stared a long moment. "Where did this happen?"

"In the village of Black Gum, some ninety miles south. My father is the miller there."

"How did you know where to find me?"

For a moment it seemed the youth might refuse to say more; then he answered. "I'd been here in Ternass, apprenticing as a teacher in the common school. When I heard your army had crossed the river, I went home. Too late. So I came back to avenge my family." His defiance faded, leaving him momentarily desolate, but he rallied. "When I got here, everyone was talking about your wedding, as if it was something to celebrate! Everyone knew where you'd be staying. And we apprentices had been invited to the governor's once for Learning Day. Given a tour. I could guess what room you'd be in."

"Um." Macurdy sheathed his knife. "The people in Ternass had something bigger than a wedding to celebrate. A peace has been signed."

"Peace! What good is peace to my family?"

Instead of answering, Macurdy turned to his orderly. "Bring my horse. And one for the prisoner."

With three soldiers, Macurdy took the youth into Ternass, to the jail there, and had the jailer wakened. The man went pale at Macurdy's story. "We'll… we'll have him tried tomorrow, I'm sure. And hanged promptly."

"No. I want no trial or hanging. Lock him up. Have a physician do something for his elbow. Keep him here for a week before you let him go. And while he's here, have him visited by the girls I rescued. His soul is scarred like my wife's body. Perhaps their stories will help him." He paused. "There's one named Hermiss that I met two days ago. A friend of the Cyncaidh's wife. Let her arrange it."

"Hermiss? I know her! Her father is principal of the common school."

Macurdy's eyes widened for a moment. "She'll be perfect. No doubt she knows this young man."

As he rode back to the manor, Macurdy told himself grimly that if this had had to happen, some good would come of it yet.

40: Squire Macurdy

Even with frequent healing attention by Omara, and by Macurdy as his skill improved, it was the fifth day after the attack before Melody was strong enough to travel safely and with reasonable comfort. (On the other hand, a physician from Farside would have disbelieved the rate of healing-been impressed that she'd even survived. Not only had blood loss been heavy; her right pleura had been punctured, and the lung collapsed.) By the time they left, the last cohorts were gone, except for their escort, the Kullvordi 2nd Cavalry.

Keeping an easy pace, they reached the Big River after the last infantry cohorts had been ferried across. And traveling more briskly, reached Teklapori eight days later, with Melody fully recovered.

Travel-stained, they were ushered into the palace. Inside it had changed conspicuously, the old hangings and furniture mostly replaced. Even Macurdy noticed. It was lighter and brighter, less ornate, less of a hodgepodge. Within minutes a servant came to tell them that King Pavo was waiting for them in the guest parlor. "Two men were with him on business of the crown," the servant added, "but he has sent them away for now." Then he bowed again and gestured them to follow.

They found Wollerda in uniform, one that Macurdy hadn't seen before. The design was the same-the elegantly simple Sisterhood guardsman design-but the material had a velvety sheen, while over one shoulder was a sash that looked to Macurdy like silk, with alternating stripes of Teklan red and Kullvordi blue. He wore a crown, though not the bejeweled ceremonial crown, and beneath it all, he'd gained weight.

Wollerda was grinning from ear to ear as he stepped quickly to meet them halfway to the throne: Queen Liiset remained in the background as the two ex-rebels gripped and shook hands. "It's good to have you back," Wollerda said, then looked at Melody. "And you, Colonel. Your husband reported your injuries, both in battle and later."

When he'd seated them, he fixed Macurdy with his gaze. "What did you do to her attacker? You didn't say."

Macurdy told him, the story bringing a gradient raising of the royal eyebrows. When it was done, Wollerda looked at Melody. "What do you think of that?"

She shrugged. "He's the commander. And when he explained it… The man acted in hatred, for a reason; I'd have done the same, except I wouldn't have botched it. And the story will have spread-he may even have taken it home himself-spread like the story of how Macurdy handled the rapes at Ternass. It'll give the Rude Lands, maybe even the empire, a different view of us here."