“We saw Corporal Byrne attacking you, Your Highness,” the officer said, sliding a warning look at his comrades. “Who would have thought it, and him the son of the captain of the Queen’s Guard.”

“He was not attacking me,” Raisa said. “We were practicing self-defense.”

“Never you mind, Your Highness,” the corporal said. “It must have been a scary thing, to be carried off by a member of your own guard. But he won’t harm you no more. We’ll make sure of that.” He smiled chillingly, and Raisa suddenly remembered where she had seen the corporal before. He was Robbie Sloat, who’d been one of the guardsmen at Southbridge Guardhouse the day she and Amon had rescued the Raggers.

“We was on our way to Demonai Camp, to look for you, Princess,” Sloat said. “Now we don’t have to go there at all.”

Sloat barked out orders, and the other guards collected Amon’s sword and his belt dagger and tied his hands behind his back. They took Raisa’s sword, but didn’t bother to search her or bind her hands.

How had Sloat ended up out here in the rough, close to the West Wall?

Whatever he was doing here, she knew it meant they were in terrible trouble.

Sloat faced Amon, ignoring Raisa. “So, Corporal Byrne, I know you’re not out here on foot. Where’d you come from? Where are your horses and who else is with you?”

Amon said nothing, his face hard and set, and an awful, blank look in his eyes.

Sloat slammed his fist into Amon’s midsection, and Amon doubled over, the air whooshing out of him. After a long moment, he straightened, but still said nothing.

“Corporal Sloat,” Raisa said, and enjoyed seeing him flinch when she spoke his name. “Just stop it. I can tell you what you want to know.”

“No, Your Highness,” Amon said, shaking his head. “Don’t tell him anything.”

“We brought three salvos with us, Highlanders loyal to the line,” Raisa said, looking Sloat in the eyes. “I expect they’ll be here any minute.”

Sloat laughed for show, but Raisa noticed he glanced around just the same.

Raisa pressed her point. “When my mother hears what you’ve done, you will find out what vengeance means to a Gray Wolf queen.”

Startled into honest speech, Sloat blurted, “Oh, yeah? Well, we an’t taking you back to the queen. Least not right away.”

“What?” It was Raisa’s turn to be startled. “Why not? What’s this all about?”

Sloat smiled. “Never you mind, Your Highness. We’re taking you back to Lieutenant Gillen, and he says the queen’ll be no problem.”

“Gillen? Mac Gillen?” That was the greasy-haired, snaggletoothed sergeant of the Queen’s Guard who had tortured prisoners at Southbridge Guardhouse and threatened to put her on the rack. And for that he was made lieutenant?