Ser John frowned. “Well—you gentlemen will dominate my council, then, with your mother. She’s expected tomorrow from Ticondaga.”

A difficult silence fell.

Ser John wondered what he’d said.

Finally, Ser Gabriel gave a laugh that had a sob in it. “Am I safe in assuming that the Abbess will bring Sister Amicia?” he asked.

Ser John smiled. “Of course. She’s essential to our defences.”

Gabriel nodded. “Perfect,” he said. He held out his cup. “I’ll need some more wine.”

An hour later, Ser Gavin had his brother in a bed, in a clean nightshirt, and lightly drunken on wine and lots of water. “Brother,” he said.

Gabriel smiled ruefully. “I’m well. Well enough. You go.”

Gavin shook his head. “I’ll stay.”

Gabriel raised his head. “I’m not a fucking weakling, brother. Trust me, I’ll weather this. And you’ve waited almost a year to see her. Go! At the very least, she needs to know that Mater might be here, and what that will mean.”

“Sweet Christ, I hadn’t even thought—” Gavin smacked his head. “Oh, dear God.”

“Exactly,” Gabriel said. “You must go. And I will stay here, and play the role. Come back—but don’t despair. The worst is over.”

Gavin looked at his brother with too much understanding. “No, it isn’t.”

Gabriel frowned. “I didn’t know how much I liked him,” he said. “I didn’t…”

Gavin sighed. “I did. Ever since Kaitlin’s wedding. He was one of us as much as if he’d ridden with us for years. Christ, listen to me. I’ve only ridden with you a year.”

“I have that effect on people,” Gabriel said. But he managed a smile. “I mean it. Go kiss the Lady Mary from me, too. Bring her if you think she’ll survive Mater. And don’t, if you don’t. We’ll ride south in five days.”

“You still mean to go to the tournament,” Gavin said.

Gabriel nodded. “Gavin, I’ve made plans and I’ve made other plans. Nell!” he shouted, and Nell appeared.

“Nell, I would like to formally apologize for my behaviour.”

“Apology accepted,” Nell snapped.

Gavin laughed outright. “Just what you deserve.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Nell, I need the scroll tube. You know it, the ivory one.”

Wordlessly, Nell went back to the outer room. And returned with a scroll tube.

“If I die—this is the plan.” Gabriel shrugged. “Master Smythe told me that if we missed the tournament, we’d probably rue it. He’s so helpful that way. For what it’s worth—and my credibility is a little singed, I admit—Plangere just lost a powerful controlled mage and the daemon warband took heavy losses. I intend to advertise that he came—and he ran.” Gabriel’s smile had nothing of pleasure in it, and everything of predatory anticipation. “He lost four wyverns, too. That will hurt his credibility with them.”