too, might be dying. Light-headed, he groped to feel the extent of the injury. His wrists were caught in a firm grip and a voice he did not recognize told him to be still.
Panic lurched through his weakened body. Thick of tongue and wits, he was trapped within muscles that would not respond. “Sioned—” he tried to say.
“Hush. Sleep now, and you’ll soon be better.”
Something about the voice pinched at his memory, and he fought the hands that grasped his own. “Sioned!”
“You must sleep now.”
Heavy wine laced with dranath and something else was poured down him, and he gagged. Another voice, a masculine one, swore. A second pair of hands held his face and more wine went down him. A fit of coughing nearly took the top of his head off, and contractions of muscles knotted his belly and shoulders and back.
“Lie down,” the man ordered, and as the drugged wine seeped through him he had no choice but to obey. “I agreed to bring him here, not to nurse him,” the man went on irritably.
“Shut up,” the woman said, sounding slightly bored. “If you’d been more careful in the first place—”
“You’ll note he calls out for her,” the man jeered. “Did you expect him to call for you? I didn’t kick him that hard in the head.”
“Your jibes are as predictable as your rotten timing,” the woman responded acidly.
“He should be all right by tomorrow. The fever’s close to breaking.”
“You don’t understand the risk.”
“All you need is for him to be capable. I should think you wouldn’t want him to be coherent.”
“Your delicacy of phrasing also astounds me.”
Rohan almost had it, almost knew where he had heard that voice before. Yet even as he fumbled for the memory, the drugs swirled up, and he slept.
Sioned flexed her fingers inside dragonhide riding gloves, waiting in the coolness of the manor porch for her horse to be brought around. Aware of the crowd in Lord Baisal’s courtyard and their furtive glances at her, she neither paced nor fidgeted. A princess’ icy calm was a useful and strangely comforting refuge; by refusing to show emotions, she could also refuse to feel them.
Her brother approached as her gray stallion was led from the stables, and Sioned bit back impatience at the confrontation imminent in his eyes. She had no time.
“You’re still determined to do this crazy thing,” he accused, taking the stallion’s reins from the groom. “At least take a more substantial guard with you! You can’t know what’s out there—or whom.”
“Which is why my guard is so small, and my rather distinctive hair hidden, and my royal trappings gone,” she countered. “Goddess! A princess riding disguised through her own lands!” She grabbed the reins from him and swung up onto the gray’s back, wishing she could have left her head bare to the slight breeze. The sun was only two fingers up in the sky, and already it was hot. Six years of living in the Desert had not entirely accustomed her to its brutal climate, and this was only late spring. By summer she would be limp with exhaustion.
“I wish you’d wait until Lord Chaynal arrives,” Davvi said.
“You know what to tell him when he does.” She glanced around for Ostvel. “I know what I’m doing.”
“I doubt it. Be careful, Sioned. For Goddess’ sake, please be careful.”
“For my husband’s sake.” Then, leaning down to pat his shoulder, she said more gently, “Don’t worry so much.”
He snorted his opinion of this caution. “Ostvel’s on my side in this, you know. We had a long talk last night.”
“I expected nothing less from either of you. He’ll be your eyes watching over me, I’m sure.” She spied Ostvel through the milling horses and troops and servants, and said, “I must go. Stay safe, Davvi.”
Turning her mount, she rode to the gates where Ostvel and two men-at-arms waited for her. But she was waylaid by Lord Baisal, who came running from the encampment outside the walls, where Davvi’s men and those gathered overnight from the outer farms were established. In a few days the lower pastures and hills would be covered in tents, and Chay would make efficient sense of the chaos. But Sioned could not stay to see the armed power she commanded.
“My lady,” Lord Baisal pleaded. “I beg you not to leave so soon! What am I to do before Lord Chaynal arrives?”
“Feed the men, equip the horses, and prepare yourself for war. If you have any spare moments, you might begin the