“This was plucked from the sand this morning, yes,” Hunold agreed. “And I know of old the illusions of the witches. To make it certain, we found something else on the shore this morning, my men and I, and this is a very great treasure, one to rival any you have shown us as being wave-brought to your keep. Marc, Jothen!” He raised his voice and two of the Duke’s shieldmen came in, a roped prisoner between them, though they seemed uneasy to handle that captive.

“I give you part of the fleet,” Hunold tossed the chip to Fulk. “And now. Lord Fulk, I show you one who had the making of it, if I mistake not, and I do not think that I do!”

Fulk was used to salt-stained captives dragged from the sea’s maw and his dealing with such was swift, designed mostly to one end. Also once before he had handled the self-same problem and handled it well. Hunold might have shaken him for a space, only a very small space. He was fully confident again.

“So,” he settled back in his seat with the smile of one watching the amusement of the less sophisticated, “you have taken you a witch.” Boldly he surveyed the woman. She was a thin piece, but there was spirit in her — she would furnish good sport. Perhaps Hunold would like to undertake her taming. None of these witches were ever beauties, and this one was as washed out as if she had been fighting waves for a month. He studied the clothing covering her straight limbs more closely.

That was leather — garments such as one wore under mail! She had gone armed then. Fulk stirred. A mail clad witch and that phantom fleet! Was Estcarp on the move and did that move head toward Verlaine? Estcarp had several scores she might mark up against his hold, though hitherto no northerner appeared to be aware of his activities. Put that to the back of the mind to be considered later; now one must think of Hunold and what could be done to keep Karsten an ally.

Carefully he avoided meeting the captive’s eyes. But he asserted a measure of his old superiority.

“Has it not yet come to common knowledge in Kars, Lord Commander, that these witches may bend a man to their will by the power of their eyes? I see your shieldmen have taken no precautions against such an attack.”

“It would seem you know something of these witches.”

Careful now, thought Fulk. This Hunold did not keep his place at Yvian’s right hand through the weight of his sword arm alone. He must not be provoked too far, only shown that Verlaine was neither traitor nor dolt. “Estcarp has yielded tribute to our cape before.” Fulk smiled.

Hunold seeing that smile, shot an order at his men. “You, Marc, your cloak over her head!”