"What weaknesses?" Amber asked. "Your men seem to think they're anything but weak."

"The bodies don't last long in this climate," Moragon said. "But most of all, they require a fearful amount of essence. Their leader, Dain Barden, is fielding an army of draugar so large he can hardly control it, and we're providing the essence from our new supplies, but even that isn't enough. With the Akari dependent on us for essence, we can curb their power at any time."

Moragon reached behind him. "Much as I enjoy speaking with you, the reason I'm here is that I brought you a gift," Moragon said, handing her a covered basket.

"Open it," Moragon said.

Amber cautiously lifted the lid on the basket. She saw brown curls, a simple face, a grimacing expression, and the horrible flaps of skin and gashes of red that remained when a head was taken off. Amber recoiled in horror and pushed the basket away from her.

"No," Amber said. Who could do such a thing to a woman? "Not Casey."

"You're very crafty," Moragon said. "I gather you must have been jealous of her, taking care of your child, so you gave the simple girl a task you knew would see her killed."

"That's not true."

"Now that she's dead, who's going to feed the boy? You've killed your son's wet nurse, and now he's going to starve."

"Please, no. Give him to me."

"Bring the boy!" Moragon called.

A moment later the baby was in Amber's arms.

"Let's hope you can feed him," Moragon said. "Else I'll need to find a new wet nurse, and it'll be your head we deliver to the next girl as a warning."

Moragon left the basket with Casey's head in the corner of the room. Amber continued to shake, but she realised the position was in. If her milk had run its course, Moragon would do the same thing to her he had done to Casey.

Amber hated him. She hated him with all her heart.

As the babe made sucking motions and little urgent noises Amber gave him her nipple and prayed.

Her prayers were answered when she felt him taking from her greedily.

The next morning when Amber woke with the babe in her arms, the basket with the head was gone.

47

47

"THREE men," Layla said, "and one woman who struggled. Her arms were tied behind her back but her legs were free." She pointed out the tracks, but all Miro saw were slight scratch marks in the dirt.

"How long ago?" Miro asked. His blood ran cold at the thought of Amber being under the power of these men.

"Three days. They were moving quickly."