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shock
of his execution could harm her.”
    Ronos raised a
brow. “Are you sure it’s not you who’s unwilling to punish
him?”
    “ No, although he seems changed.”
    “ That does not excuse his crimes.”
    “ No.” She looked down at her clasped hands. “But it seems
unfair to make Talsy suffer.”
    The King’s
expression softened. “You always were a kind lass. Perhaps you
should tell her what he’s really like, then she won’t mourn his
passing.”
    “ That won’t help. She’s convinced that he’s not Tyrander, so
nothing I tell her will make any difference to the way she
feels.”
    “ Then we must prove to her that he is Tyrander.”
    “ How? She claims to have met him, yet somehow he has fooled
her.”
    Ronos pondered
this. “The dye didn’t wash out?”
    “ No.”
    “ Then it will grow out.”
    The Princess
nodded. “That means waiting until it does.”
    “ Are you in a hurry?”
    “ No, the longer he suffers at the thought of his impending
execution, the better.”
    Ronos leant on
his desk and steepled his fingers. “Then we wait.”
    Orland
wandered in and flopped down in a chair, smiling at them. “Well,
the black army didn’t much like our reply to their demands.”
    “ What are they doing?” Ronos asked.
    “ Milling around, trying to decide what to do next, I suppose.
The leader threatened to tear down our city, stone by stone, so I
told it to try. They’ll be gone by the morning, I’d
say.”
    The King
frowned. “They must want that stone pretty bad.”
    “ They claim that our guests stole it from Larina.”
    Ronos
shrugged. “It’s a moot point, but I wouldn’t give those
abominations the time of day. I don’t understand why they’re making
so much fuss about a piece of stone.”
    “ Talsy says it’s sacred to her people,” Merina
offered.
    “ Well, I’d rather she had it than that witch Larina.” Ronos
looked at his son. “Keep an eye on them; you never know what
mischief they may be planning. I don’t like having a black army on
my doorstep. If they don’t leave, I’ll send a courier to Larina. I
know she doesn’t want to start a war with me.”
     
     
    Kieran sat on
the hard bed and rubbed his head, which ached from the rough
scrubbing the guards had subjected it to, trying to wash out the
non-existent dye. By the time they had given up, Kieran was sure
most of his hair had been torn out by the roots. He gazed morosely
out of the window, through which a portion of darkening sky was
visible. He looked around as the key grated in the lock, and the
door creaked inwards. A willowy female figure stood silhouetted in
it, then entered, leading a small child by the hand. Kieran raised
his gaze to Merina’s fearful, defiant face.
    “ Before you die, I want you to meet your son.”
    Kieran
groaned. “My nephew, Princess.”
    “ Don’t you think you’ve lied enough?”
    Kieran studied
the child, who appeared to be about five years old, and possessed
his dark brown hair and black eyes set in a delicate face. The boy
regarded him warily, his thumb plugged into his mouth.
    Kieran smiled
at him. “What’s your name, lad?”
    The boy hid
behind his mother’s skirts, and she replied, “Urlik, after my
grandfather.”
    “ A fine name.”
    Merina pulled
the child forward. “Urlik, this is your father.”
    “ I’m not!” Kieran protested. “I’m his uncle!”
    “ You’d lie to your own son? I thought perhaps you would admit
the truth when confronted with him.”
    Kieran gave a
low growl and lay back, stretched out one leg and bent the other,
staring up at the roof. “If you won’t believe me, Princess, kindly
leave me alone. You can wait until doomsday for that lock of white
hair to sprout, because it won’t.”
    “ We’ll see about that.”
    Kieran looked
up at her. “How’s Talsy?”
    “ She has the morning sickness badly, but she’ll be all
right.”
    “ There’s a bottle of tonic I bought for her in one of the bags,
will you see that she takes