“Your Majesty,” Amon said softly, tilting his head toward the crossover from the Queen’s Tower. “Return to the Queen’s Tower, bar the door, and wait for us there. Tyburn, go with her and don’t let anybody in.”

Raisa looked at the closed door of the audience chamber. Wolves collected in front of the door, their ears flat against their skulls, baring their teeth as if they would block her way.

She took a step back, and then another. As she turned to run, the door to the audience chamber slammed open and a muddle of buff and striper uniforms poured out.

“Go! Go! Go!” Amon shouted, drawing his sword. Metal rang as swords slid free all around her.

Raisa ran. Behind her, she heard Klemath shout, “There she is! She’s getting away!”

The Guard formed up in the corridor, a blockade of bluejackets and swords. Nightwalker had climbed onto one of the broad stone window ledges, his longbow already singing its deadly song as he fluidly nocked and fired.

Raisa and Cat raced into the other tower, closed and barred the door. Putting their shoulders to it, they pushed furniture against it.

Magret Gray walked out of the bedroom, and Cat all but garroted her before she recognized her.

“Sweet sainted Lady!” Magret said. “What are you doing with the furniture? What is going on?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Raisa said breathlessly. “But I believe that the former General Klemath is leading a rebellion against the crown.”

“Klemath!” Magret scowled. “The scoundrel! What does he hope to gain?”

“I’m guessing that word of his imminent demotion has somehow leaked out.”

“You go on into the bedchamber, Your Majesty,” Magret said. “Lady Tyburn and I will handle things out here.” Casting about for a weapon, she snatched up a large copper lamp.

Raisa knew Magret was thinking of the tunnel to the roof, that Raisa could escape if the renegades breached the outer door.

Raisa shook her head. “I’ll stay here for now,” she said. “There’s a better view of the drawbridge.” She grabbed up her longbow, braced one limb against her instep, bent the bow back, and slipped the string into the nock with a satisfying snap.

Sliding her quiver over her shoulder, she stepped into one of the recessed windows and peered down into the courtyard below.

“Get back, Your Majesty,” Magret hissed behind her. “’Tisn’t safe to show yourself.”

Bluejacketed guards streamed across the drawbridge and into the keep. The view of the mercenaries on the ground was blocked by the curtain wall. If all went well, Raisa’s reinforcements would be inside and the bridge up before the stripers knew what was happening.