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"Why?" I asked stubbornly.

He swore at me. "Are you too stupid to take an order, D'Angeline? Go!"

Somewhere in the villa, there was more shouting, and then the sound of running footsteps. I heard Claudia's voice at the door and rose.

"Imriel?"

I opened the door. "What is it?"

Her face was composed, but there was fear in her eyes. "Lucca's under siege."

Behind me, Lucius laughed. I turned to see him sitting on the edge of the bed. He gave me a broad, cruel smile, and there was no trace of Lucius in it. "Too late, fancy-boy!" he said cheerfully. "I thought it might be. Valpetra doesn't give a damn about the girl, she's only a means to an end. He wants the city. And I'll be damned if I let him take it." Rising, he donned his clothing. "Right," he said to Claudia. "Let's go see about this, shall we?"

Without waiting, he strode out the door.

"Stay with him," I said. "I'll get the others."

By the time I'd roused them and we'd managed to get mounts saddled, Lucius was already on his way to the city walls. The city was in an uproar. The streets were thronged with terrified people, mounted and on foot. The air was thick with fearful rumors.

Oddly, the one calm point was Lucius.

We caught up with him before he reached the gate. He was in the midst of a group of Tadeii and their retainers, riding purposefully and straight-backed. He'd acquired a sword, and it looked as natural at his side as though he'd always carried it. His father was there, and Claudia and Deccus, but no one made a move to deter him. I suppose they didn't dare, and I didn't blame them.

At the gatehouse, the captain of the city guard saluted him warily. There was another man at his side; a nobleman by his dress. He was of middling to older years, with a high brow and a somber gaze, and by his air of authority, I guessed him to be Gaetano Correggio; Helena's father and the Prince of Lucca.

"Right." Lucius ignored him, addressing the captain. "Let's have a look."

"Lucius Tadius?" the other man asked, bewildered.

"Not likely." Lucius dismounted with careless ease, handing his reins to a retainer. He jerked his chin at the guard tower. "Come on, man! Let's go."

"Captain, don't—" Publius Tadius began, then fell silent as Lucius turned to fix him with a cold, hard stare. There was a faint mark on one cheek where Lucius had struck him yesterday. He cleared his throat. "Yes, all right, go have a look. Gaetano, a word?"

The four of us exchanged glances.

"I'll go," I said.

I left the Bastard in Gilot's keeping and followed Lucius and the captain into the guard tower on the right. No one moved to stop me, either. We climbed up the narrow winding stair and entered the chamber at the top. Lucius peered out the window, his shoulders blocking my view.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, then withdrew. "I can't get a good look out this piss-hole. We're going out on the wall."

I caught the captain's arm as Lucius unbarred the heavy wooden door that led to the walls. "Captain, listen. He's not himself."

"So I see." He blinked. "Who is he?"

I hesitated. "Gallus Tadius."

"Oh." The captain thought about it. "Good."

Since there was nothing else for it, I followed Lucius, ducking my head and clambering through the door. I emerged into daylight, high atop the city wall. It was as broad as a Tiberian road. There were two walls, actually, an outer and an inner, both of them thick and sturdy, with dirt packed solid between them. Truly, the tall oaks that grew atop the wall it were rooted in that very soil.

And beyond the wall was an army.

There must have been two thousand men. There was a small cavalry contingent and a company of archers, but the rest were foot-soldiers. They were fully armed, short-swords and long spears, shields slung at their backs and their armor gleaming in the sun.

Lucius stood in plain sight, legs planted, hands on hips, contemplating them.

"Lucius!" I hissed, ducking back into the shadow of the guard tower.

He glanced over at me. "Oh, sweet tits of the