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  * * *

  Before they left Mandra, Alyssa sent Benoic to Aberwyn with messages for her mother and Lady Tay. Joh decided to go with him and then take him back with her to the Westfolk lands if he wanted to go.

  “Never seen Aberwyn,” she said. “Interesting, eh?”

  “Hah!” Alyssa said. “It’s Benno you want to keep an eye on.”

  Joh laughed and agreed.

  The ship that Valandario had found for Alyssa and Cavan turned out to be a sleek if small caravel, already loaded with cargo for Cerrmor. The captain gallantly let Alyssa have his tiny cabin and told her he’d sleep out on the deck with Travaberiel and Cavan. Although he assured them that the ship was capable of deep-water sailing, for this trip they stayed close to the coast.

  “Now if we get a storm,” he warned them, “we’ll have to put in to the nearest harbor. The Wise One said you need a fast trip, but I’m not risking my boat.”

  “Understood,” Alyssa said. “A wrecked ship won’t do us any good, either.”

  The weather, oddly enough, continued absolutely perfect for the entire voyage, day after day of a brisk but manageable wind that shifted its direction slightly with every twist of the coast so that it always came from dead behind them. The captain and the sailors all took to making the sign against witchcraft every time they came face to face with one of their passengers. Alyssa was tempted to do the same whenever she saw Travaberiel.

  Late one night they arrived at Cerrmor, or rather, at a position at sea just outside the harbor. The sailors dropped anchor into the shallow water for the wait—sailing into harbor in pitch darkness meant risking a bad accident at a pier. By lantern light their passengers gathered their luggage near the gangplank and waited. Alyssa sat on deck with Cavan and Travaberiel and looked into the darkness covering the town. By starlight she could just make out the dark mass of buildings and the swirl of river water at the estuary. Once or twice a point of light gleamed in the town only to disappear.

  After a long chilly wait, the eastern sky began to lighten, just a show of silver at the horizon at first.

  “Light enough for our eyes,” the captain said. “We’ll take her in now.”

  “Good,” Travaberiel said. “I’ve got to get these two to the Bardekian embassy before the town’s awake.”

  The captain trotted off, yelling orders in Elvish. As the sky began to brighten, the ship glided into harbor and docked at one of the piers nearest the Bardekian quarter. When Alyssa noticed a group of some ten men waiting, her heart leaped in fear.

  “Trav!” she said. “Those men! Are they city guards?”

  Travaberiel leaned forward and clutched the rail while he looked.

  “They’re not,” he said at last, “but men from the embassy. An escort.”

  Alyssa sighed in sharp relief.

  “I’ll stay on board here, then,” Travaberiel continued. “We’ll be pulling out when the tide changes.”

  “It will sadden my heart to see you go. Thank you for all your help. I don’t know how to repay you!”

  “No payment needed. Stay safe and win your case!”

  As the group on the pier hurried forward, she recognized Hwlio of House Elaeno at their head. His men grabbed the baggage, helped Alyssa off the boat, then surrounded her and Cavan for their quick walk through the silent streets. Now and then a dog barked as they passed. Once or twice an early riser stopped walking to look at them, or a woman leaned out of an upper window to empty a chamber pot into the street, but no one challenged them.

  They reached the embassy before the sun had truly risen. High walls, painted white, sheltered an imposing compound. Directly inside the ornamental brass gates stood the official embassy building itself, two broad stories of pale stone. To either side flagstone paths ran through low-growing greenery to outbuildings. Hwlio led them around the right-hand side of the embassy to a small square guesthouse set some distance from the walls. He opened the door and gestured at the men carrying the baggage to take it in.

  “There’s food laid out for you inside,” Hwlio said. “I suggest you eat and sleep first, and we can all talk later.”

  “Excellent idea,” Cavan said. “And you have my humble thanks.”

  CHAPTER 10

  MAVVA AND DOVINA WERE having breakfast in their suite when Darro hurried in with a message. He handed the silver tube to Dovina with a bow.

  “A Bardek man gave me this for you, my lady,” Darro said. “He’s waiting for an answer.”

  “How very interesting!” Dovina laid her slice of bread and honey down on her plate and handed the tube to Mavva. “My reading-glass is in the other chamber.”

  Mavva slid the pabrus out, glanced at it, and whooped in delight.

  “We’d love to have you come to dinner at the embassy this very evening,” she read. “Someone has arrived that we know you’d enjoy meeting.”

  Dovina whooped in turn and clapped her hands with a loud smack.

  “We’ll send a carriage for you,” Mavva continued. “If you could write your answer on the back of this note and return it, that might be wise.”

  “Wise, indeed,” Dovina said.

  Mavva stood up. “I have my writing case in my bedchamber. I’ll just fetch it.”

  * * *

  After the long days on the ship, Alyssa was most grateful for the Bardek-style bathhouse attached to the embassy, but the soft bed in the guesthouse ran a close second, as Cavan agreed. They slept through the day, waking only when a servant came to tell them that dinner would be served in a short while.

  “You have friends here to greet you, too,” she said. “Lady Dovina and her chaperone. Shall I help you dress, my lady?”

  “Thank you,” Alyssa said. “Cavvo, get up! We can sleep later.”

  Once they’d dressed, the servant returned to lead them back to the main embassy building. In an elegant reception room Dovina and Mavva were sitting on a pale blue velvet settee and drinking small glasses of wine. Hwlio was sitting on a matching chair nearby, but Alyssa noticed that he was not drinking at all. As they walked in, Dovina set her glass down and got up to greet them. She caught Alyssa’s hands in hers.

  “So good to see you!” she said. “Did you get it?”

  “I did indeed, or summat just as good, with a letter from the head of Haen Marn herself. I’ve got so much to tell you.”

  “And I have plenty to tell you, too.”

  Mavva got up to join them. “What’s that brooch on your dress? Are you betrothed?”

  “Married, actually.” Alyssa turned to Cavan with a grin. “I never do anything easily, do I?”

  “I just hope you’ve not made the mistake of your life,” Cavan said. “I’m honored to be your husband.”

  “For a silver dagger,” Dovina said, “you’re well-spoken, at least. But congratulations to the pair of you!”

  Cavan made a stiff bow in her direction.

  “Come sit down, Lyss,” Dovina continued. “We’ve got some scheming to do. We can celebrate your wedding after we make sure your husband doesn’t hang.”

  “A splendid idea, that.” Alyssa took a chair next to Hwlio. “Dovva, I absolutely have to ask! Is your betrothed acceptable?”

  “Very, though I’m not ready to tell him that just yet. Lord Merryc of Daiver.”

  “I know Merro.” Cavan sat down next to Alyssa. “He’s a good man, my lady. It would be good to see him again if he could stand the company of an exile.”

  “He’s looking forward to seeing you,” Mavva said. “He’s said so several times.”

  For a moment Alyssa thought that Cavan would weep, but he collected himself.

  “My thanks,” Cavan said. “That’s good to hear.”

  A servant hurried in with a tray holding glasses and more wine, which she offered round. As she left, she spoke to Hwlio in Bardekian, and he answered in the same.<
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  “Dinner soon, she tells me,” Hwlio said. “Pork stewed with apricots and various vegetables.”

  “Sounds wonderful.” Dovina paused to set her half-full glass down on a little table. “First we need to hear each other’s news. Then, what shall we do about the bounty on Cavan’s head? He can’t live here at the embassy forever.”

  “Quite so,” Alyssa said, “but wherever it is, I’d like him to live a fair bit longer.”

  “I can see the virtue in that, myself,” Cavan said.

  Over dinner, between bites of an excellent meal, Alyssa gave the others a report of their journey. Dovina added pieces of information that confirmed one of her fears. Some of the priests of Bel were involved, though apparently the local temple was deeply divided over the issue. With the little sweet cakes toward the end of dinner, the conversation turned to the current situation.

  “Things have become dangerous,” Dovina said. “I think you’d best leave the book here for now.”

  “In our bookhoard,” Hwlio said. “The cottage is too easy to get into.”

  Servants have been bribed before, Alyssa thought, but she kept the thought to herself rather than insult the embassy staff. Cavan stood up with a half-bow in Hwlio’s direction.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll fetch it right now.”

  “My thanks. Good idea.” Hwlio turned in his chair and motioned to a stocky manservant waiting near the door. “You’ll need a lantern.”

  “Of course, sir.” He nodded at Cavan. “If the Deverry lord would come with me?”

  Cavan rose, bowed to the ladies, and followed him out.

  “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help,” Alyssa said. “It’s beyond generous.”

  “You’re welcome,” Hwlio said, “but it’s very much to our advantage. Consider. Our merchants do a lot of very profitable business in Cerrmor, don’t they? It’s a free city with its own laws, is why. They practically drool at the thought of expanding the trade to other Deverry ports. They even talk about setting up inland trading stations. What’s stopped them, do you think?”

  “Aha!” Dovina said. “They can’t trust our courts to protect their interests.”

  “Or their property,” Mavva put in. “If some lord decides he can fine them for some infraction or other, what can they do about it?”

  “Don’t forget the feuds,” Alyssa said. “I come from a guild family. No one wants to see their hard work destroyed in a siege or suchlike.”

  “And there you are.” Hwlio nodded at each of them in turn. “Without a proper law code, ye gods, without judges to rule on it, who’s going to risk the family fortune to come trade in Deverry?”

  “Only the bravest, or perhaps that’s the most foolish,” Mavva said. “And because of the risk, the prices on their goods are enormously high. You know, it would be to Deverry’s advantage to make things more secure, like.”

  “Coins have voices,” Hwlio said. “Let us hope the Prince Regent can hear them.”

  “There’s one voice I know he listens to,” Dovina said. “Lord Merryc’s.”

  “Dovva, you’ve really got to accept him and be done with it,” Mavva said.

  “Oh, I know. I just keep thinking that there’s got to be summat wrong with him that I’ve not seen yet, that’s all.”

  “No one’s going to be perfect!”

  “True spoken. Maybe I’m too suspicious. But be that as it may, here’s to the regent. He’s in Cerrmor, or I should say, at his villa nearby.”

  They all raised their wine glasses in a toast to the prince. The servants took that as a signal and hurried in to clear the table. Hwlio led his guests back to the reception room.

  Cavan returned shortly after with Alyssa’s saddlebags. She took out the book, unwrapped it, and laid it triumphantly in Dovina’s lap. In its pale leather binding, embossed with a design of interlaced birds and spirals, the massive volume looked oddly innocent for an object that could throw the kingdom into an uproar. Mavva picked up the letter that had come with it and began to read it silently.

  “The actual Nevyn copy can’t travel,” Alyssa said. “I saw it, however, and can swear to its existence.”

  “No one will argue with this letter.” Mavva looked up from the pabrus. “Signed by Lady Marnmara and Lord Kov as well as Adjudicator Perra herself. They swear this is a venerable and accurate copy of the Nevyn book, the oldest in their bookhoard, dating from before the Time of Troubles.”

  “Excellent!” Dovina stroked the book with gentle fingers. “Let us hope the prince is impressed. I’ll ask Merro about how to approach him.”

  “Hah!” Mavva said. “You used Lord Merryc’s nickname.”

  “So I did.” Dovina mugged rue. “I suppose I’m weakening.”

  “It’s a terrible thing, female weakness,” Alyssa said with a grin.

  “Look what it’s got you into, indeed,” Dovina said. “Now, here, we’ve got to figure out what we’re going to do about the bounty.”

  Cavan sighed and slouched down in his chair, a gesture that failed at making him less visible.

  “Tell me summat,” Hwlio said. “I remember a bit about these laws, but not enough. Can the bounty on Cavan be paid anywhere, or does it have to be in Aberwyn?”

  “It can be claimed anywhere that the gwerbret happens to be,” Alyssa said, “but it can only be paid in Aberwyn by the servitor he appoints for the job. Otherwise he’d have to travel with all that coin.”

  “And once it’s been assigned, do you have to turn the prisoner over immediately?”

  “As soon as you get to Aberwyn. Within five days, assuming that the gwerbret’s in residence. If not, you’ve got to assume responsibility for the prisoner until His Grace returns. Stand surety for him, is the phrase.”

  “But if the claimant never goes to Aberwyn—”

  Alyssa stared at him, then grinned, and finally laughed, a long chuckle under her breath.

  “The thing is,” Hwlio said, “once the bounty’s claimed, no one else can touch him. Am I right about that? Isn’t his person sacrosanct under the laws?”

  “You are and it is. So is the person that claimed the bounty. That’s to prevent bounty hunters from fighting over the prisoner and probably killing him while they’re at it.”

  “So I thought. But Alyssa, it strikes me that this is cursed dangerous. What if Ladoic has one of his famous fits of ill temper and just has his men take Cavan on the spot?”

  “If we don’t do summat,” Cavan joined in, “they’ll do that anyway. Here, what are the choices I have?” He held up a hand and ticked them off on his fingers. “Live my entire life as a fugitive, always running, always lying, until I finally die in battle over some petty lord’s feud. Surrender and be hanged and done with it, which sounds better to me than that. Or try a bold move like the one you’ve come up with.”

  “I’m all for the bold move,” Alyssa said. “Assuming His Grace will listen to me, I’ll have a speech ready that should melt his heart.”

  “And,” Dovina put in, “there’s no reason that Cavan has to come along when you make your claim. Let’s not risk that.”

  “Very true spoken,” Hwlio said. “You both are welcome to be guests of the embassy as long as is necessary. By charter, no city guards or lord’s men can enter here without my permission.”

  * * *

  Alyssa spent the rest of the evening sketching out what she might say to Gwerbret Ladoic. First she’d have to gain his attention. Weeping and crawling and begging as a poor weak woman? A revolting idea, and one she discarded as soon as she thought of it. As she considered what Valandario had told her about the gwerbret, she also realized that such a stance was likely to fail. And how had the dwimmermaster described his usual manners? Table-slapping bluster. Maybe the gwerbret was a good bit less frightening than she’d always thought. She had practical problems to consider, too
. Where would she find Ladoic? And who would be with him to witness her speech? There would have to be witnesses of the right sort. She would need to be very careful to avoid even the slightest trace of embarrassing or shaming him. Doing so in front of others would mean instant failure whether or not the laws were on her side.

  “This is why we’re fighting this battle,” she told Cavan. “This is what Cradoc always told me. It has to be the laws, not the man, that define what justice is.”

  “I’ve come to understand that this last few weeks. Do you really think this daft scheme has a chance?”

  “I do, because Dovina’s on our side. I’ll be going up to the guesthouse tomorrow to talk with her.”

  “It gripes me that you’ve been placed in this position. Maybe I should just go back to the long road and—”

  “Oh, hush! Trying to wriggle out of our marriage?”

  “What? Of course not! I’m trying to spare you the shame.”

  “I don’t want to be spared. I want to get that hypothetical noose off your neck.”

  He hesitated, his mouth a little slack, his eyes more than a little distressed. Finally he shrugged.

  “Well and good, then. I’m grateful, you know. Never think otherwise. Grateful you’d marry me, grateful you won’t let me hang.” He laid a dramatic hand over his eyes. “Not that I deserve any of it.”

  “Idiot!”

  He looked up with a laugh, and she joined in.

  In the morning, Alyssa woke early and spent some while dressing. The embassy servants had washed her road-filthy clothing, not that she had much of a choice of clothes. Finally she decided that her best skirt and scholar’s tunic would have to do. Finery would have been out of place, anyway, for a suppliant. She kissed Cavan farewell, said a few brave words that she didn’t believe, and left for the guesthouse with an embassy guard, an enormously tall and heavily muscled fellow named Gurra, for an escort. He must have had some Deverry blood in his clan, because his skin was a light brown rather than the very dark, almost bluish, black of Bardekian aristocrats like Hwlio. Gurra carried a finesword at one hip and a long Bardekian knife at the other. His narrow eyes below bushy eyebrows made him look frightening, but he turned out to be a soft-spoken man with a pleasant smile.