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‘I want Alain. Tell me.’ Suddenly Tynisa scowled. ‘Oh, I know, you look down on me because I’m not part of your precious nobility. You’ve always tried to stand between us two. You think you’re protecting him.’

‘Oh, not him,’ Lisan Dea corrected her. ‘But perhaps that which I thought I was protecting has already been corrupted. Perhaps there is no reason for me to stand between the pair of you any more.’ Abruptly the seneschal’s reserve disintegrated, and something welled up from behind her broken mask that made Tynisa flinch, savage as she was. Behind the meticulous steward there was something raw and vicious, something that must have been festering impotently a long time. ‘Now you’ve shown what you really are, why should I try to prevent such a blessed union? Alain’s gone west, just a day ago, with half a dozen attendants and a couple of entertainers. They’ll not have made much time, so you could catch them by tonight, if you ride hard.’

For a moment Tynisa stared with horrified fascination at the vitriol writ large across the woman’s face. Then her iron purpose reasserted itself: no matter what the woman’s motives, Tynisa knew what she needed to know.

She was going to find Alain. She was going to take what was hers.

‘Gone west,’ had been so vague that it should have taken her longer than a day to find Alain’s party, but whatever had given her skill enough to ride a horse had enabled her to find a trail, too. The Commonweal had few roads, and her eyes soon picked out a track that looked recently used, and by a medium-sized party making no efforts to hide their progress. Indeed, casting her gaze across the ground was just like reading a book, a library of information set out for her. She was astonished that she had never noticed such evidence before.

She pushed her horse to the limit, knowing she had a bad reputation amongst the grooms of Leose, after killing a half-dozen of the beasts during the war with the brigands, but then the dumb animals were there to serve. She could not understand how anyone could get too attached to them. A handful of dead mounts was a small price to pay for the destruction of Salme Elass’s enemies.

Alain would not be expecting her, of course, and she tried to imagine the look on his face. He would be glad to see her, and discover that she had come to take him away from the confines and restrictions of Leose. His retinue might not be so pleased, of course. They would have their instructions from the princess, so they would resist.

She considered simply killing them all, but suspected Alain might not take kindly to that and, besides, it seemed inelegant, like a prostitution of her skills. Better that she stalked them, then took Alain from them without their noticing. That would satisfy her more. And if they gave chase, well . . .

At the back of her mind were pangs of doubt that she had to quell from time to time. What would Che think? What about the things Salma said? Surely this is not what I meant? But she was now in the grip of a fierce and borrowed certainty: qualms could not touch her.

Evening had drawn on, and her quarry obliged her by revealing its location with a campfire, which made everything so much easier. Of course, the Dragonfly-kinden could see well in the dark but, huddled close about their fire, they would be spoiling their own night-vision. There would be sentries, of course, in case some scraps of the brigand army remained, but they would not notice Tynisa.

Their camp was situated in a hollow excavated into a wooded hillside, deep enough to retain the heat and stave off the cold. No doubt this was a place maintained by the local farmers and herders for just such a purpose. She approached sideways on, slipping from tree to tree, eyes picking out the individual members of Alain’s escort against the blaze.

She crept close, closer than was wise, but she might as well have already cut out all their eyes. The armoured Mercers sat with the warmth of the fire at their backs and stared bleakly out into the darkness, unhappily waiting out the chill of the night with their