“You’ll have to take the tower down,” Valthan said. “If it’s been the center of their evil that long—”

“I know,” Dorrin said. She knew, but she felt a reluctance to destroy a work so old, the center of Verrakai House. As if he sensed that reluctance, Valthan put his hand on her arm.

“My lord Duke, I’m serious. They will have built it with blood and bone: it cannot be cleansed. It must be destroyed.”

“And will be,” Dorrin said. “When I have carried out the prince’s commands to find those under Order of Attainder and send them to Vérella. If I spend the weeks it will take to knock the tower down, stone by stone, they will get away.”

“But—”

“I will burn out the entire inside, leave it an empty husk,” Dorrin said. “That should hold the evil at bay awhile, while I do as the prince wished. Later, I can demolish it.”

He nodded. “That sounds well enough.” He sighed. “I do not envy you your tasks, my lord.”

“Nor do I envy you your journey to Vérella with my poisonous relatives.” She pushed back from the table. “I will renew my spells blocking their magery and hope those hold until you reach Vérella. Should you suspect they are regaining their magery, kill them at once. Remember they have powers you’ve never faced; just one of them held four motionless, including the Marshal-Judicar of Gird.”

In the main reception hall, lamps and candles were alight; the women and girls stood in one huddle and the boys in another. Some glared at her, defiant; others cringed. Either expression might be a lie. Dorrin hooked her thumbs in her belt and looked them over.

“Remember my warnings,” she said. “The Royal Guard has orders to kill you if you offer any resistance or attempt to use your magery, should my bindings fail.” For a moment her mother looked triumphant, but Dorrin smiled, putting into it all the Verrakai arrogance, and her mother’s eyes fell. “I do not think they will,” Dorrin said. “And to make certain—” She released the power again, first damping their powers, and then a glamour, making them docile, at least for a time.

“Time to go,” Sir Valthan said. The Royal Guard urged them out the front entrance. The older women and those with child were put in a supply wagon. The others would walk. They did not complain, but set off down the lane.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“My lord, have you slept at all?” Selfer asked when the others were well away. Dorrin glanced at him. He looked disgustingly bright-eyed for dawn when she knew he, too, had been up most of the night.

“No,” Dorrin said. A yawn fought its way past her attempt to hold it back. “Too much to do. Now, too.”

“My lord, by your leave—sleep a few hours. We will not let harm come to you.”

Dorrin shook her head. “I distrust this sleepiness, Captain. It could be magery—”