I was made aware of Swift's fears when he spoke from beside me. “What should I do now?” I heard both unadmitted fear and dread in his voice and I tried to think what would have reassured me at that age, and went back to Burrich's wisdom. Give him a task.

“Follow the Prince and stay at his side. I think it best if you sleep in his tent tonight, for you've a keen set of ears and the Wit to warn you if any should approach the tent from outside. Remind them of that, and let them know I suggested you be his guard tonight. Now go quickly, get your blankets and join them before they're abed.”

He looked at me, mouth agape for an instant. Then he flashed me a look of pure gratitude. His eyes met mine, without resentment or restraint, and he said, “You know I'm loyal to my prince.”

“I do.” I confirmed it for him. I wondered if Burrich's face had shone like that the first time Chivalry had proclaimed that he belonged to him. I suddenly felt he was too cheaply bought, this son of Burrich. If he had half the loyalty and courage of his father, then Dutiful had acquired a jewel indeed. As Swift ran off into the darkened camp, I turned to the sound of footsteps behind me. Web approached, with Civil a scant two steps behind him. As if he could read my thoughts, he said, “The boy will be a good man.”

“If he's allowed to grow that way, without interference or the creation of unnatural appetites,” Civil appended to his words. He stepped into the circle, and never have I seen a man more ready to fight. His cat was a snowy ghost at his heels. I didn't want this. I didn't want the allegations and I didn't want the fight. I saw no way to avoid any of it. The Fool spoke before I could.

“You willfully persist in laboring under that misapprehension,” he said quietly. “Yet if it must be said to you yet again, then I shall. I am no threat to that boy. What passed between us at your mother's home was a subterfuge, designed to make my quick departure easily explained. You are not a simpleton. You have seen that both Tom Badgerlock and I serve the Prince, in ways that no one has fully explained to you. Nor will anyone. So set that hope aside. This is as much as you get from me, and I speak it plainly. I feel no physical attraction to that boy, and I have no designs on his flesh. The same is true of how I feel toward you.”

That should have put him at ease, if that had been his true concern. But it wasn't, of course. I could tell it by the way his Wit-cat flattened his ears. Civil spoke in a low voice. “And she who was affianced to me, Sydel? Will you say you felt no physical attraction to her and never had any designs on her flesh when you ruined the trust that was between us?”

The silence and cold that closed tight around us was not entirely of the glacier's making. I had seldom seen the Fool weigh his words so carefully. I became aware that Cockle stood just outside our circle, witnessing our words, and those who had started to return to their tents had also halted to watch this play. I wondered what the minstrel would make of what he had already heard, let alone what the Fool might say next. “Sydel was a lovely child when last I saw her,” the Fool said quietly. “And like a child, she was given to quick turns of fantasy and fascination. I took advantage of her interest in me. I admit that. And I have told you already why I did so. But I did not ruin the trust between you. Only the two of you could do that, and that is indeed what you did. Some time has passed and perhaps, if you look back now, you will see that the trust she gave you was just that: the trust of a child, not the love of a young woman. I would wager that she had known few other young men besides you; she did not truly choose you, Civil. You were simply there and her parents approved. And when I came along and she perceived there might be a choice—”

“Don't try to blame it all on me!” Civil's voice was a low growl. His cat echoed it. “You seduced her and stole her from me. And then you cast her aside, and left her to her shame.”

“I . . .” The Fool's shock was palpable to me. He seemed at a loss for words. But when he spoke, his voice was firm and in control again. “You are wrong. All that passed between Sydel and me, you saw. Such, of course, was my intent! There were no private moments between us, and certainly no seduction. I left her, certainly, but I did not shame her.”

Civil shook his head, a bit wildly. The more calmly the Fool spoke, the more agitated the lad seemed to become. “No! No, you ruined everything between us, with your loathsome appetites! And now you will say it was some sort of game or ruse. You shattered my mother's dreams for us, and humiliated her father so that he cannot bear to be in the same room with her. All this for a jest? No. No, I refuse to believe it.”