〃Be still；〃 the knight murmured。 〃There are riders ing。〃
〃Who？〃 Strangyeard asked。 Deornoth shook his head。
The oning riders； still little more than shadows； split almost noiselessly into several groups； sweeping wide around the encampment。 Deornoth had to marvel at their silent horsemanship even as he cursed his party's lack of bows and arrows。 A folly； to fight with swords against mounted men…if men they were。 He thought he could count count two dozen attackers； although any estimate was dubious in this half…light。
Deornoth got to his feet； even as a few shadowy figures around him did the same。 Josua； nearby； drew Naidel from its sheath； the sudden hiss of metal against leather seemed as loud as a shout。 The surrounding figures reined up； and for a moment utter silence fell once more。 Someone passing a stone's throw away would never have suspected the presence of a single soul； let alone two forces at battle ready。
A voice broke the stillness。
〃Trespassers！ You walk on the land of Clan Mehrdon！ Lay down your arms。
Flint rang on steel； then a torch blossomed behind the nearest figures； throwing long shadows across the campsite。 Mounted men； hooded and cloaked； surrounded Josua's band with a ring of spears。
〃Lay down your weapons！〃 the voice said again in thickly…accented Westerling。 〃You are prisoners of the randwarders。 We will kill you if you resist。〃 Several more torches flared alight。 The night was suddenly full of armed shadows。
〃Merciful Aedon！〃 Duchess Gutrun said from somewhere nearby。 〃Sweet Elysia； what now？〃
A large shape pushed toward her…Isorn； going to fort his mother。
〃Do not move！〃 the disembodied voice barked out； a moment later one of the riders walked his horse forward； his spear point lowering； catching a glint of torchlight。 〃I hear women；〃 the rider said。 〃Do nothing foolish and they will be spared。 We are not beasts。〃
〃And what about the rest？〃 Josua said； stepping forward into the light。 〃We have many here wounded and sick。 What will you do with us？〃
The rider leaned down to stare at Josua； momentarily exposing his hooded features。 He had a rough face； with a shaggy； braided beard and scarred cheeks。 Heavy bracelets clinked on his wrists。 Deornoth felt his tension ease somewhat。 At least their enemies were mortal men。
The rider spat into the dark grass。 〃You are prisoners。 You ask no questions。 The March…thane will decide。〃 He turned to his fellows。 〃Ozhbern！ Kunret！ Round them in a circle to march！〃 He wheeled his horse to supervise as Josua； Deornoth； and the others were herded at spearpoint into the ring of torchlight。
〃Your March…thane will be unhappy if you mistreat us；〃 Josua said。
The leader laughed。 〃He will be more unhappy with me if you are not at the wagons by sun…high。〃 He turned to one of the other riders。 〃All？〃
〃All； Hotvig。 Six men； two women； one child。 Only one cannot walk。〃 He indicated Sangfugol with the butt of his spear。
〃Put him on a horse；〃 Hotvig said。 〃Over the saddle； no matter。 We must ride fast。〃
Even as they were prodded into movement； Deornoth sidled closer to Josua。 〃It could be worse；〃 he whispered to the prince。 〃It could have been the Norns who caught us instead of Thrithings…men。〃
The prince did not reply。 Deornoth touched his arm； feeling the muscles tense as barrel staves beneath his fingers。 〃What's wrong； Prince Josua？ Have the Thrithings…men thrown in with Elias？ My lord？〃
One of the riders looked down； mouth set in a humorless； gap…toothed grin。 〃Quiet； stone…dwellers；〃 he snarled。 〃Save your breath for walking。〃
Josua turned a haunted face toward Deornoth。 〃Didn't you hear him？〃 the prince whispered。 〃Didn't you hear him？〃
Deornoth was alarmed。 〃What？〃
〃Six men； two women； and a child；〃 Josua hissed； looking from side to side。 〃Two women！ Where is Vorzheva？〃
The rider slapped a spear butt against his shoulder and the prince lapsed into anguished silence。 They trudged on between the horsemen as dawn began to smolder in the eastern sky。
As she lay on her hard bed in the darkened servant's quarters； Rachel the Dragon imagined she could hear the gibbet creaking； even above the howling wind that skirled through the battlements。 Nine more bodies； the chancellor Helfcene's among them； were swaying above the Nearulagh Gate tonight； dancing helplessly to the wind's fierce music。
Nearer at hand； somebody was crying。
〃Sarrah？ Is that you？〃 Rachel hissed。 〃Sarrah？〃
The moaning of the gale died down。 〃Y…yes； mistress；〃 came the muffled reply。
〃Blessed Rhiap； what are you sobbing about？ You'll wake the others！〃 Beside Sarrah and Rachel； there were only three other women now sleeping in the maid's quarters； but all five cots were huddled together to conserve heat in the large； chilly room。
Sarrah seemed to struggle to pose herself； but when she answered her voice was still shaken by sobs。 〃I'm 。 。 。 I'm afraid； M…mistress Rachel。〃
〃Of what； fool girl； the wind？〃 Rachel sat up； holding the thin blanket closely around her。 〃It's blowing up a storm； but you've heard wind before。〃 Torchlight bleeding beneath the doorway revealed the faint shape of Sarrah's pale face。
〃It's。。。 my gammer used to say 。。。〃 The maid coughed wetly。 〃Gammer said that nights like this 。。。 are when dead spirits walk。 That you。。。 you can hear the voices in the w…wmd。〃
Rachel was grateful for the darkness that hid her own disforted shiver。 If there ever would be such a night； tonight seemed a likely choice。 The wind had been raging like a wounded animal since sundown； wailing among the Hayholt's chimneys and scratching at the doors and windows with insistent； twiggy fingers。
She made her voice firm。 〃The dead don't walk in my castle； idiot girl。 Now go back to sleep before you give the others nightmares。〃 Rachel lowered herself back down onto her pallet； trying to find a position that would ease her knotted back。 〃Go to sleep； Sarrah；〃 she said。 〃The wind can't hurt you； and there'll be work in plenty tomorrow； the Good Lord knows； just a…picking up what the wind's blown down。〃
〃I'm sorry。〃 The pale face sank。 After a few sniffling minutes； Sarrah was silent once more。 Rachel stared upward into the blackness and listened to the night's restless voices。
She might have slept…it was hard to tell when all was in darkness…but Rachel knew that she had been listening to a sound beneath the windsong for some time。 It was a quiet； stealthy scratching； a dry sound like birdclaws on a slate roof。
Something was at the door。
She might have been sleeping； but now； suddenly； she was terribly awake。 When she turned her head to the side she could see a shadow slipping along the strip of light below the door。 The scratching became louder； and with it came the sound of someone crying。
〃Sarrah？〃 Rachel whispered； thinking that the noise had awakened the maid。 but there was no response。 As she listened wide…eyed in the dark she knew that the strange； thin sound was ing from the hallway…from whatever stood outside her locked door。
〃Please；〃 someone whispered there； 〃please 。。。〃
Blood pounding in her head； Rachel sat up； then silently placed her bare feet on the cold stone floor。 Could she be dreaming？ She seemed so very wide awake； but it sounded like a boy's voice； like。。。
The scratching took on an impatient quality which quickly began to sound like tearfulness…whatever it was； she thought； it must be fright… ened； to scratch so 。。。 A wandering spirit； a homeless thing walking lone and lorn on this blustery night； looking for its long…vanished bed？
Rachel crept closer to the door； silent as snow。 Her heart labored。 The wind in the battlements stilled。 She was alone in the dark with the breathing of the slumbering maids and the pitiful scraping of what stood beyond the door。
〃Please；〃 the voice said again； softly； weakly。 〃I'm scared。。。〃
She traced the sign of the Tree on her breast； then grasped the bolt and drew it back。 Though the moment of choosing was past； she drew the door open slowly： even with the choice made； she feared what she would see。
The solitary torch against the far corridor