“No, no, Sir Ocher.” It was a woman’s voice. “Not yet. There’ll be enough for you and me to do, later in this day.”

Looking beyond Flambard, the Bishop saw his Queen, Evyan the Fair, and there was something within him which stumbled and broke into fire. Very tall and lovely was the gray-eyed Queen of Cinnabar, where she stood in armor and looked out at the growing battle. Her sun-browned young face was coifed in steel, but one rebellious lock blew forth in the wind, and she brushed at it with a gauntleted hand while the other drew her sword snaking from its sheath. “Now may God strengthen our arms,” she said, and her voice was low and sweet. Rogard drew his cope tighter about him and turned his mitered head away with a sigh. But there was a bitter envy in him for Columbard, the Queen’s Bishop of Cinnabar.

Drums thumped from the leukan ranks, and another soldier ran forth. Rogard sucked his breath hissingly in, for this man came till he stood on diomes’ right. And the newcomer’s face was sharp and pale with fear. There was no Barrier between him and Carlon.

“To his death,” muttered Flambard between his teeth. “They sent that fellow to his death.”

Carlon snarled and advanced on the leukan. He had little choice—if he waited, he would be slain, and his king had not commanded him to wait. He leaped, his spear gleamed, and the leukan soldier toppled and lay emptily sprawled in the black square.

“First blood!” cried Evyan, lifting her sword and hurling sunbeams from it.

“First blood for us!”

Aye, so, thought Rogard bleakly, but King mikillati had a reason for sacrificing that man. Maybe we should have let Carlon die. Carlon the bold, Carlon the strong, Carlon the lover of laughter. Maybe we should have let him die.

And now the Barrier was down for Bishop asator of leukas, and he came gliding down the red squares, high and cold in his glistening white robes, until he stood on the frontier. Rogard thought he could see asator’s eyes as they swept over Cinnabar. The leukan Bishop was poised to rush in with his great mace should Flambard, for safety, seek to change with Earl Ferric as the Law permitted.

Law?

There was no time to wonder what the Law was, or why it must be obeyed or what had gone before this moment of battle. Queen Evyan had turned and shouted to the soldier Raddic, guardsman of her own Knight Sir Cupran: Go! Halt him!” And Raddic cast her his own look of love, and ran, ponderous in his mail, up to the frontier. There he and asator stood, no Barrier between them if either used a flanking move.

Good! Oh, good, my Queen! thought Rogard wildly. For even if asator did not withdraw, but slew Raddic, he would be in Raddic’s square, and his threat would be against a wall of spears. He will retreat, he will retreat—