Tears fell down Flana’s perfect cheeks and she stopped their flow with a scented silken scarf.

A maidservant entered the room and hesitated on the threshold. Automatically Flana reached for her heron mask.

“What is it?”

“The Baron Meliadus of Kroiden, my lady. He says he has to speak with you. A matter of paramount urgency.”

Flana slipped her mask over her head and settled it on her shoulders.

She considered the girl’s words for a moment and then shrugged. What did it matter if she saw Meliadus for a few moments? Perhaps he had some news of D’Averc, whom she knew he hated. By subtle means she might discover what he knew.

But what if Meliadus wished to make love to her, as he had on previous occasions?

Why, she would turn him away, as she had turned him away before.

She inclined the lovely heron mask a fraction.

“Admit the baron,” she said.

Chapter Three

Hawkmoon Alters

His Course

THE GREAT SAILS curved in the wind as the ship sped over the surface of the sea. The sky was clear and the sea was calm, a vast expanse of azure. Oars had been shipped and the helmsman now looked to the main deck for his course. The bosun, clad in orange and black, climbed to the deck where Hawkmoon stood staring across the ocean.

Hawkmoon’s golden hair streamed in the wind and his cloak of wine-coloured velvet whipped out behind him. His handsome features were battle-hardened and weather beaten and were only marred by the existence, embedded in his forehead, of a dull, black stone. Gravely, he acknowledged the bosun’s salute.

“I’ve given orders to sail around the coast, heading due East, sir,” the bosun said.

“Who gave you that course, bosun?”

“Why, nobody, sir. I just assumed that since we were heading for Dnark…”

“We are not heading for Dnark, tell the helmsman.”

“But that strange warriorthe Warrior in Jet and Gold you called himhe said…”

“He is not my master, bosun. Nowe sail out to sea now. For Europe.”

“For Europe, sir! You know that after you saved Narleen we would take you anywhere, follow you anywhere, but have you any understanding of the distances we must sail to reach Europethe seas we should have to cross, the storms…?”

“Aye, I understand. But we still sail for Europe.”

“As you say, sir.” Frowning, the bosun turned away to give his orders to the helmsman.

From his cabin below the main deck, D’Averc now emerged and began to climb the ladder. Hawkmoon grinned at him. “Did you sleep well, friend D’Averc?”

“As well as possible aboard this rocking tub. I am inclined to suffer from insomnia at the best of times, Hawkmoon, but I snatched a few moments. The most, I suppose, I may expect.”

Hawkmoon laughed. “When I looked in on you an hour ago, you were snoring.”