The Mackenzie gave him a sardonic look. “We’ll hog-tie him and send him on to the Grand Constable . . . but he goes drugged. I know more about magic than you do. By definition. And the first and the last and the heart of it is paying attention.”

Guelf looked at Father Stanyon.

He was one of Pope Leo’s men. Very strict, but very brave, and honest . . . Well, so am I! I just know more Now what? I want to say good-bye to Terry, check up on Chezzy and go to sleep. God, I must sleep!

“Sir Guelf . . .”

Guelf Mortimer began to start up from his bedroll and draw his sword where it lay near him across his saddle, but forced himself to be still instead.

Am I dreaming? Did I hear that?

It was very dark, but the steel might be seen. He knew that voice: Alex Vinton, Odard’s manservant. But there was nobody here, nobody at all.

God. I keep waiting for provosts with a warrant for arrest. Or to turn around and it’s that bitch d’Ath, smiling. Or one of her pupils. Or I just don’t wake up. Did the man talk? It’s days now . . . of course he’d talk! Everyone talks when you hold their head under water the fiftieth time! Did he know my name, that’s the question.

There was just a hint of light on the rolling ground around him, starlight teasing with almost-sight.

Or maybe . . . maybe they don’t talk. The Ascended Masters . . .

The whisper hung in the star-spangled dark. The moon hung low in the west, this late in the night; a few days past full. Guelf turned, thrashed a second, kicking off his blanket, and staggered up to his feet and away from the sleeping men, past the one sentry.

“Back in a minute,” he mumbled, fumbling with his trews.

“Aye, my lord,” murmured the sentry back.

The latrine was ten paces farther on and a new dark shadow was lying on the far side of the little ditch where the excess dirt had been piled up. The bright moonlight distorted expected shapes and humps.

“Sir Guelf?”

“Vinton?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Guelf controlled his anger. Yelling at the man was not going to help right now and would wake the men behind them. They were all Loiston Manor men, but you never could tell. Chenoweth had had words with all of them before they’d left.

“What news?”

“The Ascended Masters say you are to return to Gervais as fast as possible. A spy has found you and the Lady Mary out and we couldn’t intercept either the spy or the dispatches. They’ve been in the hands of the Regency for several days, now.”

“What’s happened with my damned nephew?”