The living figures turned to her, and Lenore saw the marks of King Ravins army emblazoned on the armor of men and women. They had a variety of weapons with them, from swords to strange, many bladed daggers, and they moved with a quiet coordination that terrified Lenore almost as much as the blades.

Princess, one of the men said, we had expected more men with you.

Still, it makes it easy, one of the women said. Means we dont have to poison a regiment.

There is that, the man said.

Who are you? Lenore demanded, trying to sound braver than she felt, trying to buy time, or find a way to talk clear of this, or just understand. How are you here?

They shouldnt have been there; Southern soldiers shouldnt have been able to cross the bridges.

Oh, were the ones King Ravin has been putting in place for a while, the man said. His best. One by one, over the bridges, in with the merchants. Men and women, because no one thinks a married pair will be killers. He smiled over at one of the women. Isnt that right, dear?

Absolutely, she said. She looked at Lenore with a gaze that promised awful things. Can I cut her?

You know the kings orders for her, the man said. Suitably broken, suitably used before shes brought to him, but intact. I dont think that includes your games, Syrelle. You can have one of the others.

Oh, I suppose so, Eoris. They all scream well enough in the end.

The man nodded, and that nod seemed to be a signal, because the others surged forward.

Back, Princess! one of the guards with her called, stepping forward to try to slow them, to give Lenore space in which to run.

He died.

He died so quickly that it didnt even count as a fight. Lenore had heard stories of heroic combats and seen her brother Rodry practicing with swords. This was nothing like that. There was no back and forth flash of blades, no witty talk, no chance for the guard. He was simply hacked down by a sword stroke so fast that Lenore barely saw it, while the rest of the southerners leapt at the other guards, thrusting blades into chests, dragging them across throats.

Lenore knew that her only hope was to run. She turned to do so, and saw one of her maids dragged to the floor by one of the soldiers, pinned there while she fought to get away. She saw a guard cut down, and in it all, Lenore wanted to help, but she couldnt; she couldnt persuade her body to do anything but run.

She ran, pushing her way clear of the inn, bursting out into the open sunlight with a scream that she hoped would attract the attention of any help nearby.