By the time Adare had recovered her wits enough to struggle, she stood in the wide space between the Sons of Flame and the pilgrims, Lehav still at her side, still holding her by the arm, his grip so tight she could feel the bruises forming. The bridge had gone silent. Hundreds of stares bored into her, most of them confused, some already angry. For a fleeting moment she thought she might be able to bluff her way through, then discarded the idea as stupidity, insanity. Somehow Lehav knew her, knew who she was. The only hope was to put a brave face on the thing, to do what she had come to do.

With her free hand she reached up and pulled the blindfold free.

“I am Adare hui’Malkeenian,” she said, “daughter of the murdered Emperor, princess of Annur, and the Minister of Finance. I have come here to set right a wrong, and to forge again a bond that has been broken between my family and the Divine Church of Intarra.”

The pilgrims stared, shocked. Even the soldiers looked somewhat taken aback. Lehav, however, just snorted.

“Nice speech. Are you finished?”

“No,” she said, squaring her shoulders, standing a little straighter. “I am not finished. I came to speak with Vestan Ameredad, not to be manhandled by one of his minions.”

The muscled soldier, the one who had first called out her name, laughed at that, a quick, scornful bark.

Adare turned on him, a queasy feeling in her gut. “You are Ameredad?” The man seemed brutish and ill-mannered, a poor combination, given what she hoped to achieve. At her question he just laughed harder.

“That’s enough, Kamger,” Lehav said.

The man’s laughter ended instantly.

Adare turned in horror, realizing her mistake, but the pilgrim she knew as Lehav ignored her, gesturing instead to the men and women he had walked alongside during the march south.

“These people have come a long way. They are tired and hungry. It seems you want to make a show, but they have not come here for a show. They have come here because of their devotion to the goddess, not for some sordid spectacle of a lying bureaucrat brought low.”

Adare rounded on the man, anger stiffening her trembling legs. “I am neither lying, nor a bureaucrat.”

Lehav studied her a moment, seemed about to say something, then shook his head, turning instead to the assembled crowd.

“My mother named me Lehav, but the goddess gave me a new name: Ameredad. I thank my brothers and sisters of the road for their companionship and piety, their quiet devotion and sacrifice to Intarra. You have given up much to come here—work and family, security—and I will see to it that this new city, this holy city, welcomes you as you deserve.

“As for this . . .” he said, jerking his head toward Adare without bothering to look at her. “You witness here Malkeenian treachery firsthand. Do not forget it.”