“You speak treason!” Begasti was aghast, looking wildly about as if some witness might leap from the walls to condemn him. “You would risk the lives of my family with this crazy scheme!”

“Not a risk, old fool! Our only chance. The dragons are gone, far out of our reach now! Do you think the Duke will care that we did as best we could? Do you think he will forgive a failure? No! All will pay with pain and death. He has left us only one route. We deceive him, and possibly we and our heirs escape. If we do not, well, what we will suffer then will be no worse than what we would suffer if we went home now, with nothing! It is our only choice. Luck has put her in our hands! We cannot lose our only chance.”

Abruptly, they were both looking at her. She curled forward over her aching belly and gave a long drawn-out yowl. “Get a midwife!” she panted. “Go. Go now! Bring a woman here to help me, or I will die!” She thrashed and felt the small warmth of her baby’s body against her thighs. Warm, he was warm. He must be alive! But why so still and silent? She dared not look at him, not while these men were watching her. If they knew he was already here, they would snatch him from her. And kill him, if he were not already dead.

Begasti shrugged. “We need something to preserve the flesh and something to transport it. Vinegar, I think, and salt. Pickling will preserve it and perhaps make it look more convincing. I think a little keg would serve our purposes best, something that hides what is inside.”

“Tomorrow, I will . . .”

Begasti shook his head. “No. Not tomorrow. We need to be done with this tonight, and take ship tomorrow morning. Can you imagine that no one has missed her? By tomorrow, the search will be intense. We must do this thing, dispose of whatever is left and be gone.”

“Be reasonable! Where will I find such things at this hour? All shops were closed hours ago!”