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risk.”
    “It just seems so unfair,” Tuala said, leaning against him and putting her arms around his waist. “That she, and others like her, must endure these loveless bargains whileyou and I … We broke so many rules to be together, Bridei. We let love be our lodestone. We acted in spite of Broichan’s dictums and of all the usual protocols of court. Yet we’re not allowing Ana any choice at all. She’s one of my dearest friends, and has been since those days when we were first learning what love was all about.”
    “At Banmerren?” Bridei smiled. “I think I learned it long beforethat.” A memory of a tiny Tuala, her hair wild in the breeze, turning in place on a perilous pinnacle of rock, came vividly to his mind, and his arms tightened around her. “Besides, the gods smiled on our marriage. Even druids must yield to that higher authority.” And, when she did not reply, “Tuala? I am truly sorry. I will give Faolan a strict set of instructions. If anything goes wrong, he willbring her home. He’s never yet failed to execute a mission with flawless efficiency.”
    Tuala disengaged herself, holding his hands and looking up at him. “I hope your faith in him is justified.” she said. “He’s a good friend, I acknowledge that, and excels in his various trades. But he doesn’t know the first thing about women.”

2
     
     
    F AOLAN’S LENGTHY MORNING drills, conducted in rain or shine, seemed to Ana excessive. She learned to mount and dismount at a click of the fingers and to rein her pony in instantly at a near-inaudible whistle. She strongly suspected he was taking out his annoyance on her; it was plain the man thought he should be elsewhere, perhaps in the thick of a battle shedding other people’s blood,or more likely lurking in the shadows somewhere with a big knife in his hand. Wasn’t that what assassins were supposed to do? This one, however, possessed a singular talent for standing about with eyes narrowed and lips tight, emanating a hostility that was almost palpable.
    It took only one day of the journey for Ana to realize the necessity of what he had done. Dismounting at the edge of theclearing where they were to set up camp, she felt dull pain spreading across her lower back. She could walk, but her legs felt like jelly. Faolan was issuing crisp orders to the men of the escort, and Ana caught his eyes on her, assessing. She met his gaze coolly, then turned to attend to her mount. It had not been possible to bring her own pony, Jewel, from White Hill; Faolan had pronounced thecreature insufficiently strong to weather this particular ride. He had allocated her a shaggy, sturdy animal with a certain stolidity of temperament, and Ana had said nothing. She had vowed to herself that she would not utter a single word of complaint; she would not give him the satisfaction. It was plain enough what he thought of her: that she was pampered and weak, and knew little of the worldoutside the sheltering walls of court.
    Nearby, the serving woman whose job it was to attend to Ana was standing immobile, grimacing, hands pressed to her back. She had shared a horse with one of the men, and looked considerably the worse for wear. Ana kept her thoughts to herself. They’d insisted she have a female attendant. It was regrettable that none of those considered capable of lookingafter her wardrobe could ride. They’d better have allocated her a farm girl; no matter if she could not clean and mend a lady’s fine garments, as long as she could make herself useful when it really mattered. “Never mind, Darva,” Ana said grimly. “You’ll get used to it.”
    Darva responded with a whimper. Sighing, Ana led her pony over to the others, hobbled it, and began to rub it down. One ofthe men had the process of feeding and watering in hand. The fodder would not last long, but these stocky creatures were used to gleaning what they could from the woodland tracks and the bare fells, and would weather the journey well