“Of course. Somehow one always hopes—” He let his voice trail off. “Ah well, go on!”

“They made some sort of ram, Your Highness, and they kept on battering, screaming, pounding . . .”

Eventually the Meradan had broken down the gates. They scaled the walls; they were reckless and fearless, apparently, because they’d gained entry to the outer city within a few days. From the walls, the heartsick defenders of the citadel had watched the Meradan loot, burn, and kill helpless civilians.

“We wanted to go down, Your Highness,” he whispered. “The priests wouldn’t let us. They said, ‘Guard the temple towers.’ They would have cursed us. They made us stay.”

“I see.” Ranadar’s voice had turned into a growl of rage. “Go on.”

The fortress held out longer, giving eight runners a chance to escape by a bolthole dug under one of the towers. Two of them had lived to reach the edge of the Meradani camp. The others had not. The plan was for the men in the fortress to sally once the runners were well away.

“We reached the hills nearby. We looked back and saw the inner citadel burning.”

“So much for the sally,” Ranadar said. “Very well. You and your companion rest now.”

The runner nodded and let himself sink back into the pillows.

That night, the news spread in a wave of panic through the fortress. The prince and his council shut themselves up in the royal chambers. Master Jantalaber and the mages closeted themselves in Maraladario’s suite. The various court officers wandered here and there in the complex, trying to reassure the garrison that Garangbeltangim was a stronger fortification than Tanbalapalim, with its civilian population, could ever be. Hwilli doubted if anyone believed them.

“It’s the numbers,” she said to Rhodorix. “There are thousands of Meradan, aren’t there?”

“A horde of them, truly,” he said. “But what’s swelling their ranks are people like us. I wonder how many others there are, off to the north, waiting to join the looting?”

“People like us. I suppose they’re like us.”

“Ye gods, Hwilli, do you doubt it?”

“Not doubt it, but I don’t want to think we could be so savage.”

He snorted in disgust. “Why not? Look at how the People treated your mother! Slaves will always rise up if there’s someone to lead them against their masters. The Rhwmani war taught me that, if naught else.” He smiled with a bitter twist of his mouth. “Why do you think Ranadar sent the farm folk away?”

“To spare the food they’d eat, I suppose. Or did he think we’d rise against him?”

“Most likely both. There are more guards down in the south, from what Andariel tells me, and they have more leisure to keep the slaves under control.”

“Slaves? They never called us that, but I suppose that’s just what we are to them.”