Amon shook his head. “None, thank the Lady. They couldn’t use their numbers in the narrow corridor. They could only come at us two at a time. When the reinforcements came up from the guardhouse, the stripers were caught between. That made the difference.”

“Klemath?”

“He got away,” Amon said, his face hard and grim. “Which means we have a bigger problem outside. General Dunedain’s gone to investigate. Now that we’ve cleared the keep, I’ve sent teams to take a count of everyone within, and to assess what goods we have in the buttery and the kitchen stores.”

“Then we’re under siege? By our own army?” Raisa asked, her voice cracking with disbelief.

“It seems so,” Amon said. “I expect we’ll find out soon enough what they want.”

“I just hope he doesn’t expect me to marry Kip,” Raisa said, shuddering. “I’d leap from the tower first.”

Cat snickered, and that set Magret to laughing, and soon they were all in convulsions.

“Even w-worse,” Cat cackled, blotting tears of mirth from her eyes. “Maybe he wants you to marry b-b-both of them.”

“I’ll make you a rope, Your Majesty, so you can hang yourself,” Magret said.

Talia swaggered across the tower room, thrusting out her hip and planting her hand on an imaginary weapon. “Your Majesty, marry me. I haven’t a brain in my head, but I have a really…big…sword.” Then she got a bewildered look on her face. “I only hope you can teach me how to use it.”

Amon just stared at them as if they’d all gone mad.

Or giddy.

Raisa didn’t care. She was just glad that nobody she cared about had died—yet. But she knew that couldn’t last.

C H A P T E R  T H I R T Y - T H R E E

IN THE DEEPS

Han awoke to murky torchlight, hurting in every place imaginable and some he’d never known about before.

He was no stranger to pain. He’d endured the tender touch of the queen’s gaolers in the past, and knew it was survivable. Life on the streets brought with it a share of knifings, beatings, and streetlord discipline—at least until you got your own game going.

“Alger?” he said, searching for his ancestor’s presence.

“I’m here,” Crow said, his voice low and soothing. “Go back to sleep if you can.”

Lord Bayar had wasted no time getting down to the business of ferreting secrets out of Han. Clearly, he meant to keep Han alive long enough for a thorough interrogation. And mobile enough to lead them to the armory if need be. So for the present, he used a light and careful hand—familiar devices, including thumbscrews, toe wedges, and flogging. Now and then he raised blisters with wizard flame, but never went deeper.