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our roads.”
    “Please, Niccolo,” I said, “Tell us what you know.”
    Niccolo rubbed a hand across his face, “To speak the truth,” he said, “there isn’t all that much to tell. In the land of my birth it is simply said that the conflict between our peoples began with a wish for love, ended in hate, and that in between run rivers of blood. Only when true love can find the way to heal hates wounds can there be a genuine peace between us once more.
    “It is for this reason that our late king married his only daughter to the son of his greatest foe. He hoped that love might grow between them and so put an end to the seemingly endless cycle of war.”
    “Well, that certainly didn’t happen,” Raoul said with a snort. “We may have stopped fighting for the time being, but everybody knows that what our king and queen feel for each other is a far cry from love. Were about as far away from court as we can be in this place, and even here we hear rumors of the queens constant plotting.
    “They say it has divided the court. The king has food tasters, to make sure he isn’t poisoned. Soldiers sleep at the foot of his bed, and outside his chamber door. And he sends Prince Pascal away from court for months at a time. It’s the only way to keep him safe, and from becoming his mother’s pawn. They say she will never be satisfied until the first son of her heart and blood sits on the throne.”
    “Which makes no sense at all,” I said, “ForPrince Pascal is an only child. Of course he will inherit the throne. All the queen has to do is to wait.”
    “And the longer she waits,” Niccolo said. “The older her son will become. Your king is young, still in his prime. He should live for many years yet. Years which will see his son grow to full manhood. The queens chance for influence diminishes with every year that goes by. But if her husband were to be killed in battle, and her son came to the throne before he turned eighteen . . .”
    “Then he would need a regent,” I said. “Someone to help guide him, and who better than his loving mother?”
    Niccolo nodded. “That is so.”
    “So the ships we saw were what they appeared to be,” Raoul said. “An invasion fleet. Now that they are destroyed, what will your new king do?”
    Niccolo shook his head. “I do not know.”
    “And you,” I said quietly. “What will you do?”
    “I have been thinking about that,” Niccolo answered slowly. “Much as I might wish to stay here, I don’t think I have a choice. I was charged with bringing the queen news of her father’s death. I must carry out my charge.”
    “Someone else has probably brought the queen the news you carry by now,” Raoul said. “You ve been here almost a month.”
    “True enough,” Niccolo acknowledged. “But I have a duty to perform. Ignoring it would bring dishonor to me, and to my family. They probably think I’m dead by now. If for no other reason, Ishould go to court to send them word I’m still alive.”
    “When will you go?” I asked.
    Niccolo rubbed a hand across his face for a second time.” There’s no real reason to put it off,” he said. “I could go as early as tomorrow.”
    “It’s a long walk from here to the capitol,” Raoul observed, but I caught the flicker of a smile. During the days of Niccolos recovery, a genuine affection had sprung up between the three of us in spite of our initial mistrust.
    “Oh, Raoul, for heaven’s sake,” I exclaimed. “You know better than to pay attention to him when he talks like that, don’t you?” I asked Niccolo. “He knows perfectly well we will loan you a horse.”
    “Give is more like it,” Raoul replied more somberly. “Even if Niccolo wants to come back, he’s not likely to be able to, once he gets to court. He’ll be set to carrying messages for someone else. Either that, or be sent back home.”
    “Why don’t you come with me, to ensure the horse’s safe return?” Niccolo proposed. “It would be good to have