torch, man, and look at him,” Urival growled to the sentry. “Don’t you recognize his royal highness?”
“Your grace! But what business have you here at this hour? I wasn’t told to expect visitors.”
“Private business between princes,” Urival snapped. “Let us pass.”
Rohan’s strides lengthened, the rhythm of walking having steadied his body somewhat. He squared his shoulders, felt his face settling into hard, grim lines. As he neared Roelstra’s tent he heard Walvis’ furious young voice, strained as if someone had him by the throat.
“Don’t you dare touch my lady!”
A lamp had been lit within, and two figures threw shadows onto the silk. One was Roelstra. He towered over the boy, who was tied to a chair. Rohan heard Urival’s haughty command to the guards who’d come to protect their prince’s leisure, heard the renewed thudding of his own heart. At last he heard Sioned’s voice, thick and slurred.
“Let the boy go.”
Roelstra laughed.
Think, Rohan told himself. It may mean their lives. Think, damn you!
“What was in the wine?” Sioned asked.
“Something I’ve found to be very effective in taming your kind. But it won’t spoil our pleasure, my dear.”
“Leave her alone!” Walvis exclaimed.
“Scream all you like, child. There’s no help nearby, only my men—and they are deaf with loyalty to me.”
Rohan glanced over his shoulder. Urival stood with the watchfire between him and the four guards, the threat obvious. Deaf Roelstra’s people might be, but they were not blind to the faradhi’s nine sparkling rings.
“What do you want from me, Roelstra?” Sioned asked. “My body, my abilities as a Sunrunner, or both?”
“If you touch her, you’ll die for it,” the squire said. “It’s forbidden to harm a faradhi—and she’s under my lord’s protection as well!”
Rohan abruptly realized that the two were trading Roelstra’s attention back and forth to gain time. Despite whatever had been given Sioned, despite the squire’s helplessness, each retained the wits to toss cues to each other as if they’d practiced all their lives. Rohan gave thanks to the Goddess for people who could think, and followed their example. He had to know where Sioned was within the tent. The angle of the two visible shadows meant that the lamp was in the center of the tent, on a table perhaps; she must be on the other side of the light, away from Roelstra. Good, he told himself; that would give him room to maneuver.
“Andrade won’t much like this, you know,” Sioned murmured. “You took one faradhi to your own use. I don’t think she’ll appreciate it a second time.”
“My lady,” Walvis said, “there won’t be enough of him left for Lady Andrade to deal with, once my lord is finished with him!”
“Enough!” Roelstra commanded. Rohan saw him turn, his back to the entry. Sliding the flaps apart, he stepped noiselessly inside.
Sioned was huddled on the huge bed, her knees drawn up to her chin. The lamp on a central table shone cruelly on her haggard face, and there was something strained and odd about her eyes, as if she could barely focus. But she saw him, and her long lashes closed as she bent her head wearily to her knees.
“You have her rather inconveniently placed for a rape, High Prince,” Rohan said softly.
Roelstra whirled around. “How dare you enter my camp? You insolent young fool—”
“Don’t bother to call your guards,” Rohan advised. “Consider the witnesses. Would their loyalty survive such things as Lady Andrade is capable of?”
“Finding refuge in auntie’s skirts,” the High Prince sneered.
Rohan smiled. “Free the boy. Now.”
Roelstra shrugged. Rohan took another step, angling toward the squire bound to the chair. But Roelstra, moving with surprising swiftness, grasped the boy’s hair and jerked his head back, a knife held to his throat.
“Witnesses?” he inquired silkily. “Who said there would be any?”
“You really must think your stories through, Roelstra,” Rohan said, glad that his voice was cool. “Now, if you were really being intelligent, you would already have hit on the idea of accusing me or the lady or the squire of an assassination attempt. That way you could kill us all with your own knife, shame Andrade and my family, and enhance your own reputation at the same time.” He took another slow step into the tent.
“How clever of you to guess my thoughts, princeling. Which of you would like to be first? This talkative child, perhaps?”
“You have a problem,” Rohan told him, moving another small pace forward. “You don’t think with your brain, but with what’s between your legs. What motive could any of us