frustration and covered his face with his hands. He lay in total silence for a moment. Wynter was certain he had his teeth gritted, his eyes squeezed tight. Finally he pushed his hands back through his tangled shock of curls and took a deep breath. When next he spoke, his voice had dropped back to its calm, even tone.
‘Once I have found a way out of this, and I have the bloody fool back home and settled down, I shall begin to dissuade him. Particularly in relation to this damned marriage – does he honestly believe that Marguerite Shirken will breed him anything but vipers? He may as well simply hand this kingdom over to her and her spawn.’ He paused again, Wynter staring down at him, her heart hammering in her chest. ‘Yes,’ he whispered to himself. ‘Once I get him home. Once I have him settled, then I shall begin to make everything clear to him. Slowly and carefully—’ ‘Razi,’ said Wynter. ‘Alberon is not some fractious baby to be dismissed to his bed with a beaker of warm milk. He is heir to the throne of this kingdom, and he is making decisions as such. Why must you dance around him so? Talk to the man! Talk to him! Give him the respect of sharing your opinion.’
Razi twisted to face her. He went to speak, but Christopher shushed him suddenly, his attention on the door. One of the warhounds had growled again, this time with intent. The three friends stilled, listening carefully.
The air had brightened, and they saw the misty shapes of the great hounds standing to attention outside the door. One of them trotted from sight, its long chain clinking gently. There was another low chorus of growls as the remaining dog-shadows lowered their heads. They were all looking in the direction of the Midland tent. Quietly taking their weapons, the friends pushed back their covers and crawled to the door. Behind them, the Merron women stirred.
Christopher crouched at the edge of the door and peered out. Wynter and Razi crept to his side, strapping on their swords. The Midland quarters were dark and motionless in the morning gloom. From this position, Wynter could only see the back of the tent. There were soldiers surrounding it, their faces bored, their attitudes weary, as if they’d been standing guard all night.
Hallvor came to kneel behind Wynter, her eyes on the soldiers. The healer gestured the dogs to her side and they came reluctantly. She leaned to whisper in Christopher’s ear. ‘Cén fáth na saighdiúirí, a Choinín?’
He shrugged and shook his head. ‘She wants to know what they’re doing,’ he murmured, but before Razi could answer, a cultured Midland accent rang out from the front of the tent.
It was a man, very affronted and annoyed. ‘What in the name of God are you doing?’ he demanded. ‘Have you lost your reason? Let me pass!’
Oliver’s voice drifted quietly across the air. ‘Get back inside, Presbyter, please.’
‘I must attend my Lady’s need! Tell your men—’ ‘Shut your face,’ said Oliver wearily. ‘Get inside, sit on your damned arse, and await the Prince’s pleasure.’
Wynter met Razi’s eye. ‘Let us go see,’ she suggested, and before Razi could speak, she ducked from the tent and out into the cold air.
MARY
ALBERON WAS tramping down from his quarters as Wynter rounded the blue pavilion tent. He was swaddled in a thick red cloak and his young face was tired, his brows drawn down. Now that she was outside and in the growing light, Wynter saw that Razi, too, was drawn-looking, his skin grey with fatigue. The brothers must have been up for most of the night, talking.
Wynter glanced behind her. The Merron women had emerged, their swords drawn. Christopher gestured them to stand down and the warriors slipped discreetly into the neighbouring tent where their male companions lay sleeping.
There were more soldiers guarding the entrance to the blue tent, and Oliver stood just outside the closed door, speaking quietly to a lieutenant. Wynter, Razi and Christopher came to a wary halt at the corner. At their appearance, the soldiers came to attention, eyeing them suspiciously, and Oliver turned to see what had alarmed his men. His eyes dropped to Christopher and Wynter’s bared blades, then lifted meaningfully to Razi’s face. Razi spread his hands in a gesture of non-interference, and the three friends sheathed their weapons. Oliver tightened his jaw in irritation then turned his attention to the Prince, who was just coming up