She left me then, in total confusion, and went to greet her champions. The carpets came down out of the darkness, settling like autumn leaves. I moved a little nearer till my personal guardian indicated that my relationship with the Lady was insufficiently close to permit eavesdropping.

The wind grew more chill, blowing out of the north. And I wondered if it might not be autumn for us all.

Chapter Forty:
MAKING UP MY MIND

She never once demanded anything. Even her hints were so oblique they left everything to me to work out. Two days after our evening on the ramparts I asked the Colonel if I might see her. He said he would ask. I suspect he was under instructions. Otherwise there would have been arguments.

Another day passed before he came to say the Lady had time for me.

I closed my inkwell, cleaned my quill, and rose. "Thank you." He looked at me oddly. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Just…"

I understood. "I don't know either. I'm sure she has some special use for me."

That brightened the Colonel's day. That he could comprehend.

The usual routine. This time I entered her demense as she stood at a window opening on a world of wet gloom. Grey rain, choppy brown water, and hulking to the left, shapes barely discernible, trees clinging precariously to a high river bank. Cold and misery leaked out of that portraiture. It had a too familiar smell.

"The Great Tragic River," she said. "In full flood. But it's always in flood, isn't it?" She beckoned. I followed. Since my last visit a large table had been added. Atop it was a miniature of the Barrowland, a representation so good it was spooky. You almost expected to see little Guards scurrying around the compound.

"You see?" she asked.

"No. Though I've been there twice, I'm not familiar with much but the town and the compound. What am I supposed to see?"

"The river. Your friend Raven evidently recognized its import." With one delicate finger she sketched a loop well to the east of the river's course, which curved into the ridge where we had camped.

"At the time of my triumph in Juniper the river's bed lay here. A year later the weather turned. The river flooded continuously. And crept this way. Today it's devouring this ridge. I examined it myself. The ridge is entirely earthen, without bones of stone. It won't last. Once it goes, the river will cut into the Barrowland. All the spells of the White Rose won't keep it from opening the Great Barrow. Each fetish swept away will make it that much easier for my husband to rise."

I grunted. "Against Nature there is no defense."

"There is. If one foresees. The White Rose did not. I did not when I attempted to bind him more securely. Now it's too late. So, You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes. I have to leave the Tower."