“My ladies, my lords—” he coughed, “—I did not dare trust this to anyone but myself. Messengers can be waylaid, documents purloined—”

“My lord Herald,” Gartheser said smoothly, “I think you may be overreacting. Your injuries . . .”

“Did not cause me to hallucinate what I heard,” Nathan snapped, his anger giving him a burst of strength. “We captured a prisoner, Councillors; I interrogated him myself under Truth Spell before I was hurt. The brigands are serving those slavers we thought banished!”

“What?” Lady Cathan choked out, as she half-stood, then collapsed back into her seat.

“There is worse. The slave-traders are not working unaided. I have it by my prisoner’s confession and by written proofs that they have been aided and abetted by Lord Geoffery of Helmscarp, Lord Nestor of Laverin, Lord Tavis of Brengard, and TradeGuildsmen Osten Deveral, Jerard Stonesmith, Petar Ringwright, and Igan Horstfel.”

He sank back into his own chair, eyes still burning with controlled rage, as the Council erupted into accusation and counter-accusation.

“How could this have occurred without your knowledge, Cathan?” Gartheser demanded. “By the gods, I begin to wonder just how assiduous you were in rooting out the last lot—”

“You were right up there in the front ranks to accuse me the last time, Gartheser,” Cathan sneered “but I seem to remember you were also the one who insisted I do all the dirty work. I am only one woman; I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“But Cathan, I cannot see how this could have escaped your knowledge,” Hyron protested. “Those four named are of first-rank.”

“And the other three are Kester’s liegemen,” added Wyrist, suspiciously. “I’d like to know how they managed to operate a slaving ring under Kester’s nose.”

“And so would I,” Lady Kester snapped. “More than you, I reckon.”

And so it went, as Selenay mediated the strife among her Councillors. Talia had her hands full seeing that she remained sane during all of it.

All this, of course, meant that she had no time to pay heed to her own problems—most particularly that of the rift between Dirk and Kris, Kris and herself, and Dirk and herself.

It was bad enough that the quarrel existed—but to add yet another pine-bough to the conflagrations, Rolan was causing her considerable discomfort.

He was the premier stallion of the Companion herd and while Talia had been on internship, had only had another stallion—Kris’ Tantris—for company. Now he was making up for his enforced celibacy with a vengeance—and the partner he dallied with most often was Dirk’s Ahrodie.