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particularly among the Templars, where Kenrick had first encountered the evil nobleman. Powerful in his own right, de Mortaine was next to unstoppable now that he held one of the four sacred Chalice pieces. Only two remained. Kenrick's work had given him clues to their locations, but never had the treasure felt farther from his grasp.
    "What of the seal?" Braedon asked, referring to the item Kenrick had sought, but not found in Greycliff's cemetery hiding place. "Will you be able to proceed without it?"
    "I don't know. I had not yet puzzled out how to use the seal--did not know where it belonged, or what it would do. But I know it is a key to finding one of the Chalice pieces, and now I've lost it." He fisted his hand and let it fall hard against the surface of the table. "It has taken me years to put my findings together. Already de Mortaine holds a large portion of my work, but if they possess the seal as well..."
    Kenrick broke off with a low muttered curse.
    "Mayhap Randwulf of Greycliff destroyed it before it could be taken."
    "Optimism from you, le Chasseur?" Kenrick chuckled at that, a humorless sound in the weighty pall of the solar. "Neither of us can claim to subscribe to that brand of faith. No, Rand would not have destroyed the seal any more than he would have surrendered it to the villains who raided his keep. Nothing would have torn its location from his lips."
    "Not even the torture of his wife and child?" There was a soberness to Braedon's words that set a coil of ice in Kenrick's gut. "Don't think they wouldn't stoop to it. Nothing is sacred to these bastards. You know it."
    A niggle of sick possibility rose like bile in Kenrick's throat. Randwulf of Greycliff was a strong man, a stalwart knight with an unbreakable sense of honor. He understood the gravity of what Kenrick had entrusted him with, and that trust would not have been breached. But at what personal cost?
    "Damnation. What did I bring down on them?"
    Kenrick's remorse was broken by the snick of the latch on the solar door. There was no rap, no delay for permission before the panel swung open on its hinges. Ariana entered the room with hands on hips, a look of censure snapping in her eyes.
    "Do I interrupt?" She phrased it as a question, but it was clear from the stubborn tilt of her chin that she dared either of them to tell her she was unwelcome. "Pray, continue with your conversation, my lords."
    Braedon cleared his throat.
    "We had just concluded," Kenrick told her as she walked farther into the solar, narrowly regarding the both of them. He closed his journal before her gaze could fully light on the scrawled notes he had been writing. The subtle concealment of his work did not escape her shrewd notice, but she seemed to have other pressing matters to address.
    "Do you mind telling me what just happened back there?"
    "I merely asked the lady some questions."
    "Interrogated her, I should say. You left her in quite a state, Kenrick. 'Tis not like you to be so rough and uncaring."
    "Quite a lot has transpired these past weeks, as you well know. There are answers that must be found and little time to find them. I did not question the woman to be cruel." He reached for a tankard of wine on the desk and took a slow drink. "In any event, I think it prudent that we keep a close watch on this 'Haven' woman. She knows more than she is telling me, I'm certain. There is something amiss with her, something I don't quite trust."
    "Did you consider for a moment that Haven might not trust you ? That she might well be afraid of you?"
    Kenrick frowned, glancing sardonically in Braedon's direction. "Clearly the two of you are well suited." At Braedon's answering smirk, he looked back to his sister, holding the snapping blue gaze she fixed on him. "Have I done anything to send the woman into a cower?"
    Ariana gave an exasperated sigh. "Who knows the extent of what she might have suffered. Then to wake up in a strange place, injured and weak, finding herself among