‘It probably would have been messy.’

‘When do you want to leave, Ehlana, Queen of Elenia?’ Engessa asked.

Ehlana looked at her friends questioningly. ‘Tomorrow?’ she suggested.

‘You should not ask, Ehlana-Queen,’ Engessa reprimanded her firmly. ‘Command. If any object, have Sparhawk-Champion kill them.’

‘We’ve been trying to cut back on that, Atan Engessa,’ she said. ‘It’s always so hard on the carpeting.’

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I knew there was a reason. Tomorrow then?’

‘Tomorrow, Engessa.’

‘I will await you at first light, Ehlana-Queen.’ And he turned on his heel and marched from the room.

‘Abrupt sort of fellow, isn’t he?’ Stragen noted.

‘He doesn’t waste any words,’ Tynian agreed.

‘A word with you, Sparhawk?’ Kring said.

‘Of course.’

‘You will serve as my Oma, won’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Don’t pledge too many horses.’ Kring frowned. ‘What did he mean when he was talking about branding?’

Sparhawk suddenly remembered. ‘It’s an Atan wedding custom. During the ceremony the happy couple is branded. Each wears the mark of the other.’

‘Branded?’

‘So I understand.’

‘What if a couple doesn’t get along?’

‘I imagine they cross out the brand.’

‘How do you cross out a brand?’

‘Probably with a hot iron. Are you still bent on marriage, Kring?’

‘Find out where the brand goes, Sparhawk. I’ll know better once I have that information.’

‘I gather there are places where you’d rather not be branded?’

‘Oh, yes. There are definitely places, Sparhawk.’

They left Darsas at first light the following morning and rode eastward toward Pela on the steppes of central Astel. The Atans enclosed the column, loping easily to match the speed of the horses. Sparhawk’s concerns about the safety of his queen diminished noticeably. Mirtai had very briefly – even peremptorily – advised her owner that she would travel with her countrymen. She did not precisely ask. A rather peculiar change had come over the golden giantess. That wary tension which had always characterised her seemed to have vanished. ‘I can’t exactly put my finger on it,’ Ehlana confessed about mid-morning when they were discussing it. ‘She just doesn’t seem quite the same.’

‘She isn’t, your Majesty,’ Stragen told her. ‘She’s come home, that’s all. Not only that, the presence of adults allows her to take her natural place in her own society. She’s still a child – in her own eyes at least. She’s never talked about her childhood, but I gather it wasn’t a time filled with happiness and security. Something happened to her parents, and she was sold into slavery.’

‘All of her people are slaves, Milord Stragen,’ Melidere objected.

‘There are different kinds of slavery, Baroness. The slavery of the Atan race by the Tamuls is institutionalised. Mirtai’s is personal. She was taken as a child, enslaved and then forced to take her own steps to protect herself. Now that she’s back among the Atans, she’s able to recapture some sense of her childhood.’ He made a wry face. ‘I never had that opportunity, of course. I was born into a different kind of slavery, and killing my father didn’t really liberate me.’

‘You concern yourself overmuch about that, Milord Stragen,’ Melidere told him. ‘You really shouldn’t make the issue of your unauthorised conception the central fact of your whole existence, you know. There are much more important things in life.’

Stragen looked at her sharply, then laughed, his expression a bit sheepish. ‘Do I really seem so self-pitying to you, Baroness?’

‘No, not really, but you always insist on bringing it up. Don’t worry at it so much, Milord. It doesn’t make any difference to the rest of us, so why brood about it?’

‘You, see, Sparhawk,’ Stragen said. ‘That’s exactly what I meant about this girl. She’s the most dishonest person I’ve ever known.’

‘Milord Stragen!’ Melidere protested.

‘But you are, my dear Baroness,’ Stragen grinned. ‘You don’t lie with your mouth, you lie with your entire person. You pose as someone whose head is filled with air, and then you puncture a façade I’ve spent a lifetime building with one single observation. “Unauthorised conception” indeed. You’ve managed to trivialise the central tragedy of my entire life.’

‘Can you ever forgive me?’ Her eyes were wide and dishonestly innocent.

‘I give up,’ he said, throwing his hands in the air in mock surrender. ‘Where was I? Oh yes, Mirtai’s apparent change of personality. I think the Rite of Passage among the Atans is very significant to them, and that’s another reason our beloved little giantess is reverting to the social equivalent of baby-talk. Engessa’s obviously going to put her through the rite when we reach her homeland, so she’s enjoying the last few days of childhood to the hilt.’

‘Can I ride with you, Father?’ Danae asked.

‘If you wish.’

The little princess rose from her seat in the carriage, handed Rollo to Alean and Mmrr to Baroness Melidere and held out her hands to Sparhawk.

He lifted her to her usual seat in front of his saddle.

‘Take me for a ride, Father,’ she coaxed in her most little-girl tone.

‘We’ll be back in a bit,’ Sparhawk told his wife and cantered away from the carriage.

‘Stragen can be so tedious at times,’ Danae said tartly. ‘I’m glad Melidere’s the one who’s going to have to modify him.’

‘What?’ Sparhawk was startled.

‘Where are your eyes, father?’

‘I wasn’t actually looking. Do they really feel that way about each other?’

‘She does. She’ll let him know how he feels when she’s ready. What happened in Darsas?’

Sparhawk wrestled with his conscience a bit at that point. ‘Would you say that you’re a religious personage?’ he asked carefully.

‘That’s a novel way to put it.’

‘Just answer the question, Danae. Are you or are you not affiliated with a religion?’

‘Well, of course I am, Sparhawk. I’m the focus of a religion.’