Pretend. Her fingers were screaming, but maybe she could pretend long enough to get out of this room.

Katsa raised burning eyes to the king. Her voice shook. "I'm leaving the court," she said. "Don't try to stop me. I promise you'll regret it if you do. Forget about me once I'm gone, for I won't consent to live like a tracked animal. I'm no longer yours to command."

His eyes were wide, and his mouth open. She turned and rushed down the long carpet, her ears tuned to the silence, readying her to spin around at the first hint of a bowstring or a sword. As she passed through her uncle's great doors she felt the weight of hundreds of astonished eyes on her back; and none of them knew she had been only a breath, a twitch, away from changing her mind.

They left well before daylight. Raffin and Bann saw them off, the two medicine makers bleary-eyed, Bann yawning endlessly. The morning was cold, and Katsa was wide awake, and quiet. For she was shy of her riding partner; and she felt strange about Raffin, so strange that she wished he wasn't there. If Raffin hadn't been there watching her go, then perhaps she'd have been able to pretend she wasn't leaving him. With Raffin there, there was no pretense, and she was unable to do anything about the strange painful water that rose into her eyes and throat, every time she looked at him.

They were impossible, these two men, for if one did not make her cry, the other did. What HeIda would make of it she could only imagine; and she hadn't liked saying good-bye to Helda either, or Oll. No, there was little to be happy of this morning, except that she was not, at least, leaving Po; and he was probably standing there beside his horse registering her every feeling on the matter. She gave him a withering look for good measure, and he raised his eyebrows and smiled and yawned. Well. And he'd better not ride as if he were half asleep, or she'd leave him in the dust. She was not in the mood to dawdle.

Raffin fussed back and forth between their horses, checking saddles, testing the holds of their stirrups. "I suppose I needn't worry about your safety," he said, "with the two of you riding together."

"We'll be safe." Katsa yanked at a strap that held a bag to her saddle. She tossed a bag over her horse's back to Po.

"You have the list of Council contacts in Sunder?" Raffin asked. "And the maps? You have food for the day? You have money?"

Katsa smiled up at him then, for he sounded as she imagined a mother would sound if her child were leaving forever. "Po's a prince of Lienid," she said. "Why do you think he rides such a big horse, if not to carry his bags of gold?"

Raffin's eyes laughed down at her. "Take this." He closed her hands over a small satchel. "It's a bag of medicines, in case you should need them. I've marked them so you'll know what each is for."

Po came forward then and held his hand out to Bann. "Thank you for all you've done." He took Raffin's hand. "You'll take care of my grandfather in my absence?"

"He'll be safe with us," Raffin said.

Po swung onto the back of his horse, and Katsa took Bann's hands and squeezed them. And then she stood before Raffin and looked up into his face.

"Well," Raffin said. "You'll let us know how you're faring, when you're able?"

"Of course," Katsa said.

He looked at his feet and cleared his throat. He rubbed his neck, and sighed. How she wished again that he weren't here. For the tears would spill onto her cheeks, and she couldn't stop them.

"Well," Raffin said. "And I'll see you again someday, my love."

She reached up for him then and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her up off the ground and hugged her tight. She breathed into the collar of his shirt and held on.

And then her feet were on the ground again. She turned away and climbed into her saddle. "We leave now," she said to Po. As their horses cantered out of the stable yard, she didn't look back.

Their route was rough and changeable, for their only certain plan was to follow whatever path seemed likely to bring them closer to the truth of the kidnapping. Their first destination was an inn, south of Murgon City, three days' ride from Randa City – an inn sitting along the route which they supposed the kidnappers had taken. Murgon's spies frequented the inn, as did merchants and travelers from the port cities of Sunder, often even from Monsea. It was as good a place to start as any, Po thought, and it didn't take them out of their way, if their ultimate destination was Monsea.

They didn't travel anonymously. Katsa's eyes identified her to anyone in the seven kingdoms who had ears to hear the stories. Po was conspicuously a Lienid and enough the subject of idle talk to be recognized by virtue of his own eyes and by the company he kept. The story of Katsa's hasty departure from Randa's court with the Lienid prince would spread. Any attempt to disguise themselves would be foolish; Katsa didn't even bother to change from the blue tunic and trousers that marked her as a member of Randa's family. Their purpose would be assumed, for it was well enough agreed that the Lienid searched for his missing grandfather, and it would now be supposed that the lady assisted him. Their inquiries, the route they chose, the very dinners they ate would be the stuff of gossip.

But still, they would be safe in their deception. For no one would know that Katsa and Po searched not for the grandfather but for the motive of his kidnapping. No one would know that Katsa and Po knew of Murgon's involvement and suspected Leck of Monsea. And no one could even guess how much Po could learn by asking the most mundane questions.

He rode well, and almost as fast as she would have liked. The trees of the southern forest flew past. The pounding of hooves comforted her and numbed her sense of the distance stretching between her and the people she'd left behind.

She was glad of Po's company. Their riding was companionable. But then when they stopped to stretch their legs and eat something, she was shy of him again, and didn't know how to be with him, or what to say.

"Sit with me, Katsa."

He sat on the trunk of a great fallen tree, and she glared at him from around her horse.

"Katsa," he said. "Dear Katsa, I won't bite. I'm not sensing your thoughts right now, except to know that I make you uncomfortable. Come and talk to me."

And so she came and sat beside him, but she didn't talk, and she didn't exactly look at him either, for she was afraid of becoming trapped in his eyes.

"Katsa," he said finally, when they had sat and chewed in silence for a number of minutes, "you'll get used to me, in time. We'll find the way to relate to each other. How can I help you with this? Should I tell you whenever I sense something with my Grace? So you can come to understand it?"

It didn't sound very appealing to her. She'd prefer to pretend that he sensed nothing. But he was right. They were together now, and the sooner she faced this, the better.

"Yes," she said.

"Very well then, I will. Do you have any questions for me? You have only to ask."

"I think," she said, "if you always know what I feel about you, then you should always tell me what you're feeling about me, as you feel it. Always."

"Hmm." He glanced at her sideways. "I'm not wild about that idea."

"Nor am I wild about you knowing my feelings, but I have no choice."

"Hmmm." He rubbed his head. "I suppose, in theory, it'd be fair."

"It would."

"Very well, let's see. I'm very sympathetic about your having left Raffin. I think you're brave to have defied Randa as you did with that Ellis fellow; I don't know if I could've gone through with it. I think you have more energy than anyone I've ever encountered, though I wonder if you aren't a bit hard on your horse. I find myself wondering why you haven't wanted to marry Giddon, and if it's because you've intended to marry Raffin, and if so, whether you're even more unhappy to have left him than I realized. I'm very pleased you've come with me. I'd like to see you defend yourself for real, fight someone to the death, for it would be a thrilling sight. I think my mother would take to you. My brothers, of course, would worship you. I think you're the most quarrelsome person I've ever met. And I really do worry about your horse."