the ground, then heaved into a cart, a canvas thrown over the top of him. He shouted for help,

but felt a sword point at his throat.

"Make another sound and I regret I'll have to cut

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your tongue out," the man hissed. He gave Ramil's cheek a shallow cut with the blade. "There's a reminder for you."

The cart heaved into motion, heading into the forest.

It was dark when the canvas was taken off Ramil and he was removed from the cart. From the

network of branches overhead, Ramil saw that he was still in the forest, somewhere far in, he

guessed, as nothing looked familiar. A circle of wagons was drawn up around a campfire. He had

expected a gathering of grinning Crescent sailors, prepared to remind him of his manners to

their ruler; what he had not expected was a bunch of circus performers, travelling with their

entourage of animals.

"What the--" he began.

He received an elbow in the stomach, cutting off further protests.

"Be quiet!" growled the strong man, the size of a troll from one of the Gerfalian folk tales. He gripped Ramil by the scruff of his neck. "And get in there, lad."

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He shoved the Prince into a foul-smelling, high-sided wagon. Ramil lay on his back in the straw

at a loss to explain what was happening. The daring of these circus people was breathtaking.

They'd abducted a member of the royal family not a mile from the castle. How could they expect

to get away undetected? They'd be hanged from the battlements when the King's guard caught

up with them.

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As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized he wasn't alone. A girl in a white nightdress was

hunched in the shadows in one corner, her eyes wide with fear, but she wasn't looking at him.

Cautiously, Ramil turned his head and realized that he was sprawled not five feet from a snow

tiger. Ramil stifled his urge to yell. Fortunately, the beast was occupied by a large haunch of

venison, doubtless poached from the Royal Forest, and had not yet considered the newcomers

as dessert. Ramil picked himself up on his hands and knees and crawled towards the girl.

"Well, this is interesting," he said lightly, trying to act as if this was an everyday situation for him.

He owed it to one of his subjects to at least play the part of prince.

The girl hugged her arms to her sides but said nothing. Ramil looked at her more closely. There

were signs that she had been roughly handled: her face was scratched and her wrists bruised.

He felt indignant for her. How dare these criminals ill-treat a Gerfalian girl! There were strong

laws against such behavior.

"Don't worry, miss, I'll think of something to get us out of here. If they've harmed you in any

way, I'll make sure they are brought to justice." He reached out to reassure her but she flinched away. He decided to put it down to her natural suspicion. "It's all right. I'm Prince Ramil. They probably don't realize who they've kidnapped. I'll make sure my men rescue you too when they

come for me."

She still said nothing.

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"I suppose our first problem is what to do about him." He nodded over at the tiger.

"It's chained." The girl broke her silence but her accent was funny, not Gerfalian at all.

He stared at her. No robes; no face paint. It couldn't be--

"Do I have you to thank for this, Prince Ramil, for a further assault on my dignity?" the Fourth Crown Princess asked bitterly. "Even for you, this goes beyond ill manners. It is an outright

declaration of war. You have your men bind me, strip me of my robes, my veil, throw water over

me, and lock me up with a tiger!" She sounded near hysterical. "Did you find out that I had

informed my sisters of my intention to return home? Did you have my messages intercepted

too? Is this some kind of punishment?"

Tashi swallowed a sob. She knew better than to expect any consideration from this evil boy. He

probably thought this saving-the-Princess-from-the-tiger would rescue the alliance, but she was

not fooled. She'd spent the last few hours in a cage with a hungry cat, albeit one chained at the

far end: she would never forgive him.

"But I thought ... I thought it was you and your people who had ambushed me!" protested Ramil.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "But if not you, then who?"

The Princess turned her back on him. Ramil retreated to the corner nearest the door, watching

her shoulders heaving as she wept silently. There was something terrible in the sight. He

suddenly understood how the

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past few days must seem to her--a foreign country, insults, and now this. She was still his

responsibility because she'd been kidnapped on Gerfalian land, a place where she had every

right to expect protection and respect. Even if he disliked their culture, he had learned how

important the ceremonial robes and trappings were to the Crescent people; and here she was

stuck in a cage like a wild beast, wearing only a thin, plain dress. It was all wrong for her to look

like a plucked peacock.

"I'm sorry, Princess. I'm really, really sorry that this has happened," Ramil said sincerely.

Tashi turned her eyes on him briefly: he was staring at her. "Don't look at me," she said in a whiplash of a voice. The foreign Prince was seeing her without her robes of state, her hair

uncovered; she felt practically naked.

"Isn't it enough that I'm suffering without you seeing me like this?"

Ramil looked away, unclasped his scarlet cloak and held it out to her.

"Take this. You must be cold."

Tashi took it warily from his hand, thinking this was all part of the plot and he was trying to win

her over by his show of concern. But as she watched his face for some indication whether her

guess was correct, some smug

expression or smile, she noticed that the Prince had a cut on his cheek, dried blood streaked on

his skin. A doubt crept in. What if this was not some ill-judged plan of his? What if he was a

victim too? That made their position far, far worse. There would be no

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grand rescue staged by the Prince to impress her, no triumphant return to the castle.

"I've got to know something, sir," Tashi began.

"I promise I'll tell you if I know the answer." Ramil was watching the tiger now that the Princess was out of bounds. The creature had eaten its fill, relieved its bladder in a powerful, stinking jet

of urine, and now settled down to sleep. It seemed little bothered to be sharing its cage with

two humans.

"Are you really not responsible for this? Swear on all that you hold sacred that you are not."

Ramil put his fist to his chest. "I swear on my mother's good name that I knew nothing of the

abduction. But what about you? I thought at first that you had organized it."

"Me!" Tashi exclaimed. "What could I possibly gain from arranging for you to be ... to be caged?"

Ramil shrugged. "Revenge. Satisfaction for insults. I don't know--maybe you just find it funny."

Tashi looked horrified at the suggestion.

"It's all right, Your Highness, I do not need you to swear your innocence to me. I will not accuse the Blue Crescent Islands of an act of war. I have a higher opinion of your honor than you do of

mine. No, I think responsibility lies elsewhere: we share a common enemy." Ramil lay back on

the straw and closed his eyes. "Either that, or it's a joke in desperately bad taste by my friends to throw us together."