Tisala felt a real smile spread over her face. It had been so long since she’d been in a sparring match with trained men. “Fine.”

STAFFFIGHTING GAVE WAY TO SWORD OVER THEnext few days, then hand-to-hand and bow.

Tisala was in her element as she’d never been. Here the men weren’t afraid to lay into her just because she was a woman. There were better fighters among the Guard, but she was far from the worst, and Stala taught her a few tricks. What lingering weakness she felt began to fade hour by hour. When she put her head down to sleep, exhaustion gave her dreamless rest instead of the nightmares she’d been plagued with since she left her torturer dead in Estian.

By the end of the morning workout, three days after Ward had left, she felt well enough that she decided to set out for Estian that afternoon on her own rather than wait for Lord Duraugh.

While Tisala wiped off sweat and exchanged friendly insults with the Seaforder she’d been sparring with, she decided what she’d need to ask Stala for: a horse, supplies, and money for bribes.

The sound of a horn’s staccato blast from beyond the newly repaired gate brought everything to a standstill.

“Lord Duraugh,” said Stala. “It’s about time.”

Stala put her fingers to her lips and blew a sharp whistle that was answered by a horn. At that sound the men guarding the gates scrambled to open them. A second whistle had the Blue Guard in formal formation. Tisala stepped in beside Stala and watched Ward’s uncle ride through the gates with half a hundred men, including Tosten and Beckram.

Their horses were stumbling tired, and Stala sent a group of her guards to help the grooms with the animals.

Ward’s uncle was a big man, too, though not so extraordinarily large as Ward. The Hurog blood was easy to see in the shape of his face and his coloring. Like Tosten and Oreg, his eyes were a luminous blue very close to being purple. They swept over the men in the bailey, touched briefly on Tisala, then settled on Stala.

He dismounted and yielded his gelding to a groom without comment. “The king’s men are close on our heels. I dared not take too many men from Iftahar—Ciarra is due to give birth to my grandchild any day. Without us there to bargain with, like as not they’ll leave her be, but I needed to give her a force to fight with if the king decides he really needs all the Hurogs, rather than just the men in Estian.”

Stala frowned. “What do you mean, all the Hurogs? And why are the king’s men chasing you?”