The Blue Guard was camped along a soft stretch of turf against one wall. I whistled when I counted the tents, which included Stala's distinctive one. Three Blue Guardsmen were walking a lazy patrol around the perimeter. The rest were probably out practicing somewhere, knowing my aunt.

"What are you doing all the way out here with Stala and half the Blue Guard, Beckram?" Tosten asked my question, which seemed wise, given how Beckram felt about me. "Did the king decide there was a war going on at last?"

Beckram snorted. "The king misspoke himself and fell into his half brother's trap."

"Alizon?" I said.

"None other. The upshot is that Haverness was given leave to bring a hundred men to quell the problems here in Oranstone."

"And he chose the Blue Guard?" I said doubtfully.

Beckram stopped walking toward the tents. "No, that's another story. Ward, what happened to you?"

He sounded concerned. I fought back the impulse to list my nicks and bruises; old habits die hard.

"My father died." I said. "It improved my outlook remarkably—as well as my intelligence."

He smiled slowly—not his usual brilliant smile—and I wondered for a minute if he were Erdrick. They switched places sometimes, and it was surprisingly difficult, even with their widely disparate personalities, to tell which was which.

"Erdrick was right," he said. "He told me once that he didn't think you were as stupid as everyone thought you were."

"Stupid enough to lose Hurog," I returned.

He shrugged and resumed his rapid pace toward the distinctive blue tent. "Do you have camping equipment?"

"For the woods. But there are no trees here."

At Beckram's gesture, a couple of men took the horses to be stabled while we saw about our packs. After a bit of rearranging, we stored our goods in a tent vacated for us.

When the work was done, Axiel settled a hand on Penrod's shoulder. "We'll go see what Stala is up to and tell her you're safe, Ward."

"Bastilla and Ciarra should go with you and tell her that they've moved into her tent," I said.

Ciarra nodded her head enthusiastically and patted her sword; then she dashed off, leaving the rest to follow.

As soon as they were safely away, Beckram turned to my brother and gave him a bear hug. "It's good to see you, Tosten. I see you still have that harp I gave you."

Beckram always could charm the birds out of the trees, and he managed to charm a smile out of Tosten. I hadn't known the harp was my cousin's gift.

"He was supporting himself at a tavern at Tyrfannig," I said."

Beckram raised his eyebrows. "At Tyrfannig? I'm surprised you didn't find him before this."

"He took me to Tyrfannig in the first place." Tosten turned his smile to me.

"To a sailor's inn?" Beckram looked at me. "Maybe you're not as smart as I thought…"

I shook my head, but Tosten jumped in to defend me before I could say anything. "No. He left me with a cooper."

Beckram laughed. "He would. And he'd expect you to stay there, wouldn't he?"

"The cooper was a good man," my brother replied hotly. "If I'd had no other place to go, I could have been happy there."

Tosten was defending me? I couldn't be sure; maybe it was the cooper.

"Who's this?" Beckram nodded at Oreg, who was trying his best to be part of the scenery.

"Another Hurog," I said. "Oreg, this is our cousin Beckram. Beckram, meet Oreg."

"You never told Ward what the Blue Guard is doing here," said Oreg softly, without acknowledging the greeting. Of course he knew Beckram already, and Oreg wasn't happy about the way my cousin teased Ciarra.

Beckram gave Oreg a cool, assessing look, then smiled tightly at me. "You did a better job of guarding your brother than I ever did mine. Erdrick's dead." I sucked in a deep breath, but he continued before I could say anything. "I was sleeping with the queen and misstepped somehow. Jakoven killed Erdrick by mistake, because he looked like me. It was ride out with Haverness or kill the bastard." His voice was light and quick, belying the bloodlust in his eyes. I saw then that the expression he wore to greet us was a mask covering a core of soul-deep rage. I reached out and touched his shoulder, but there was no room in him for comfort, and he stepped away from me.

Erdrick was dead; it didn't seem possible.

"When I took my brother's body back to Father, he sent the Blue Guard back with me."

"So Haverness took the Blue Guard as his hundred?" I asked, changing the subject because that seemed to be what Beckram wanted.

"No, he already had most of them picked out."

"The king made a mistake," commented Alizon, stepping around a tent. The king's half brother had discarded his usual court robes and colors. Dressed in hunting leathers, he looked much more dangerous than I'd ever seen him. I couldn't tell if he'd been listening to us or if he'd just happened to come upon us, but I knew which one I'd lay odds on.

"He chose to kill Beckram," continued Alizon, "knowing that Hurog is a not very important, virtually penniless holding in the lands of the northern barbarians." Alizon's voice showed that he, clearly, was not so stupid. I was. It sounded like an accurate description of Hurog to me. "He believed Hurog's strength vanished with the death of the remarkable bastard who ruled it for so many years. So Duraugh gave him an example of the power of the Hurog name. He brought half the nobles of Shavig with Beckram to the capital and shoved the Blue Guard down my brother's throat. 'Hurog fights as one, indeed." Alizon grinned, a boyish expression that belied the cleverness in his eyes. "Shavigmen have a long memory. They know who their king would be, though there hasn't been a king in Shavig for centuries. It was obvious to everyone that Duraugh was perfectly willing to begin a rebellion right then and there. He wanted the king's hide nailed to the wall, but he was willing to settle for adequate protection of his remaining son."

"Better the king count himself lucky my father wasn't still with us," I said. "The Hurogmeten would have killed Jakoven and let politics take care of themselves."

"And he had many other fine qualities as well," murmured Oreg.

"What are you doing here, Ward?" asked Alizon suddenly. "And I might add: My, how you've changed."

"I'm told that Oranstonian air has that effect." Tosten looked at the ground as he spoke. "Or maybe it's the apples."

"My father's death seems to account for most of it," I said. "Being too smart didn't seem healthy while he was alive. As to what I'm doing here: I heard about Oranstone's troubles, and thought to myself, what they need is a Shavigman to show the Oranstonians how to fight. I ended up with a few more volunteers than I needed. Two Shavigmen are worth a few hundred Vorsag, eh, Tosten?"

Alizon's gaze narrowed abruptly on my brother.

Tosten said, "He's been saying that we should have left a few behind, but who knew the women would be such fighters. We've considered conquering Oranstone and holding it as a fiefdom as well as Vorsag, but Ward tells me it would be rude to conquer a country twice in a century." Tosten had broadened his speech into rough Northlander.

Beckram's flashing smile lit his face at last. He slapped Tosten on the back. "Fair sounds like a proper Shavig barbarian. Now that we've got him here, we've nothing to worry about."

"Better not let the Oranstonians hear you talk like that," said Alizon repressively.

"No one likes to hear the truth," said my Aunt Stala. I'd been aware of someone approaching, but since they were wearing the Blue's colors, I hadn't paid much heed.