"Look up, slave," Slagor told her in that same quiet voice. Her sobbing continued and she shook her head, her eyes still cast down at the floor. Slagor moved quickly, stepping down from the platform and drawing his saxe knife in one smooth movement. He held the razor-sharp blade below the woman's chin, pressing it into the flesh of her neck with not quite sufficient force to break the skin.

"I said, 'look up,'" he repeated, and applied pressure to the knife to raise her eyes until she was gazing at Evanlyn. As she saw the girl, the woman began sobbing even louder.

"Shut up," Slagor told her. "Shut up that noise and tell the Oberjarl what you told me."

There were angry welts across the woman's face. Obviously, she had been recently beaten. Her ragged shift was torn in several spots as well, and more red marks were visible on her body through the gaps. In some places, blood had soaked through the thin material. Her tear-filled eyes pleaded with Evanlyn.

"I'm sorry, my lady," she said, her voice breaking. "They beat me until I told."

Evanlyn took an involuntary step toward her. But Slagor's knife swung up and around to confront her and stop her from coming closer. Beside him, Will heard Horace's quick intake of breath and saw his hand fall to the sword hilt once more. He placed his own hand over Horace's, stopping him from drawing the sword. The heavily built apprentice looked at him, surprised. Will shook his head slightly. He realized that Horace's movement had been a reflex reaction and he knew that in this tinderbox atmosphere, if his friend ever drew that sword it could mean the end of all of them.

"Not yet." He mouthed the words. If the time came, he was willing to join Horace in an attack on Slagor and Ragnak. But first, he thought, they should see if Halt couldn't talk their way out of this situation.

"Leave the talking to me," the Ranger had told them before they left his apartment. "And don't do anything until I tell you. Clear?"

The two boys had nodded. Then Halt had added: "This puts an altogether different slant on our accusing Slagor, of course."

"But surely you're still going to tell Ragnak?" Will had burst out. Halt shook his head doubtfully.

"The problem is, he's got in first. If we make a counter accusation now, it will look as if we're simply doing it to save Evanlyn. Chances are, Ragnak will ignore it altogether."

"But you can't let him get away with:," Will began, but Halt held up a hand to silence him.

"I'm not letting him get away with anything," he reassured them. "We'll just have to pick the right time to bring the matter up, that's all."

Now Slagor turned back to the woman on the floor. "Tell the Oberjarl," he repeated.

The woman said nothing and Slagor turned to Ragnak in exasperation. "My head slave overheard her talking to some of the others," he explained. "She's Araluen originally and she said she recognized this girl here"-he jerked a thumb in Evanlyn's direction-"as the Princess Cassandra-Duncan's daughter."

Ragnak's eyes narrowed and he turned slightly to inspect Evanlyn. Her chin went up and she stood a little taller under his gaze.

"She does have something of the look of Duncan about her," he said suspiciously.

"No! No! I was mistaken!" the slave burst out suddenly. On her knees, she stretched her hands out to Slagor in supplication. "Now I see her close to, I realize I was wrong, Lord Slagor. I was mistaken!"

"You called her 'my lady,'" Slagor reminded her.

"It was a mistake, that was all. A mistake. Now I see her properly, I can tell it's not her," the woman insisted.

Slagor regarded her with a pained expression on his face. He turned to Ragnak again. "She's lying, Oberjarl," he said. "I'll have my men beat the truth out of her."

He made a signal to the two men again and one of them came forward, uncoiling a short, thick whip as he came. The woman cringed away from him.

"No! Please, my lord, please!" Her voice was shrill with fear as she tried to crawl away. Slagor's man grabbed a handful of her hair to stop her and she cried out again, in pain as well as fear. He raised the vicious-looking whip over his head, ready to bring it down.

"Leave her alone!" Evanlyn cried, and her voice froze the sailor where he stood. He looked uncertainly to Slagor for direction, but the wolfship captain was watching Evanlyn, waiting for her to say more.

"All right," she said quietly, "There's no need to torture her further. I'm Cassandra."

The silence in the room was almost a physical force. Then an excited buzz broke out among the assembled crowd. Will distinctly heard the word Vallasvow from several different sources.

"Silence!" roared Ragnak, and instantly the noise ceased. He rose and moved forward to confront Evanlyn, glaring down at her. "You are Duncan's daughter?"

She hesitated, then replied.

"I am King Duncan's daughter," she said, with a slight emphasis on his title. "Cassandra, Princess of Araluen."

"Then you are my enemy," he said, spitting the words out. "And I've sworn that you should die."

Erak stepped forward. "And I've sworn that she will be safe here, Oberjarl," he said. "I gave my word when I asked the Ranger to help us."

Ragnak looked up angrily. Again there was a buzz of conversation through the room. Erak was a popular jarl among the Skandians and Ragnak hadn't reckoned on having to contend with him over this matter. With an invading army only days away from his stronghold, he knew he couldn't afford a split with his senior war leader.

"I am Oberjarl," he said. "My vow is of greater importance."

Erak folded his arms across his chest. "Not to me it isn't," he said, and there was a chorus of agreement from the crowd.

"Erak cannot defy you like this! You are Oberjarl!" Slagor suddenly interjected. "Have him imprisoned! He is defying your vow to the Vallas!"

"Shut up, Slagor," Erak told him in an ominously calm voice. Then he readdressed himself to Ragnak. "I didn't ask you to take your death vow, Ragnak," he said. "But if you want to carry it out, I'm afraid you'll have to go through me to do it."

Now Ragnak stepped down from his podium and walked closer to where Erak stood. They were of equal height, both massively built. He faced his old companion, the anger burning in his eyes.

"Erak, did you know? Did you know who she was when you brought her here?"

Erak shook his head.

Slagor snorted in disgust. "Of course he knew!" he cried, then stopped suddenly as the point of Erak's dagger appeared under his nose.

"I'll allow that once," Erak told him. "Say it again and you're a dead man."

Wordlessly, Slagor backed away from the bigger man, putting a safe distance between himself and the point of the knife. Erak sheathed the dagger and turned back to Ragnak. "I didn't know," he said. "Otherwise I would never have brought her here, knowing of your vow. But the fact remains, I vouched for her safety and my word is all-important to me-as is yours to you."

"Damn and blast it, Erak!" Ragnak shouted. "The Temujai are only three or four days' march from here! We can't afford to be fighting amongst ourselves now!"

"It would be a shame if you had to face the Temujai with at least one, and possibly both, of your best leaders dead," Halt put in mildly, and the Oberjarl rounded on him in a fury.

"Shut up, Ranger! I'm of half a mind to believe that this is all your doing! No good ever came of dealing with your kind!"

Halt shrugged, unimpressed by the Skandian's fury. "Be that as it may," he said, "it occurs to me that there might be a solution to your problem-for the time being, at least."

The buzz of conversation through the room was cut short as Ragnak swung his gaze around angrily. He watched Halt with narrowed eyes, expecting some trick or some kind of subterfuge.