Evelina, on the other hand, slept quite soundly and woke early the next morning, still burning with anger over the insulting manner in which Marcus had treated her last night. A perfectly good chance for him to get her alone and seduce her, and he’d thrown it away! True, he had been exhausted and his hands were bandaged, but any other man would have managed to overcome such minor inconveniences.

She was staying with the patriarch’s married daughter, and the young woman and her fisherman husband were up with the dawn. Being in awe of their guest, they both left the house as quickly as they could in order to give Evelina some privacy. The wife went to do her laundry on the river banks, the husband went to his boat.

Evelina lay on the straw mattress, making plans and discarding them, mulling over what she needed to do in order to catch her own particular fish. Time was running out. She remembered, suddenly, that the patriarch had offered to send a message to the king’s men. Already it might be too late. Evelina roused herself from her bed and walked outdoors. She found the village astir and the patriarch just leaving his house.

“Is His Highness awake?” Evelina asked.

“No, Mistress,” said the patriarch. “I went to ask if he needed anything, but he sleeps like a babe. He never knew I was there. I doubt the trump of doom could awake him.”

“His Highness is exhausted. We have been through a great deal together, both of us.” Evelina laid emphasis on that. With trepidation, she asked the burning question, “Have you sent the boy off to find the king’s men?”

“Yes, Mistress,” the patriarch answered. “Young Thom left with first light.”

Evelina sighed deeply. “And how long do you suppose the king’s men will be in coming?”

The patriarch frowned, considering. “When they passed through the village, they said that if we saw or heard anything of His Highness, we were to send word to Grafton, where they were camped. Now, Grafton is a day’s journey on foot, longer if the weather is bad, for the roads hereabouts are in a sorry state, and I don’t like the looks of the sky this morning. I’m thinking we’ll have rain before noon.”

Evelina clenched her fists to control the urge to slap the man. “How long, sir, before the king’s men—”

“Oh,” he said, pondering. “Tomorrow, but not before.”

Evelina smiled to herself and prayed for torrential downpours and footpads and snakes and every other mishap that could possibly happen to a traveler to happen to “young Thom.”

“I hope His Highness won’t be too disappointed,” added the patriarch.

“His Highness can use the rest,” said Evelina, and she smiled sweetly, for, at that moment, the heavens opened up and poured rainy blessings down on her.

11

“DRACONAS . . .”

“Lysira.”

“Can you talk?”