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courtyard. Instead she drifted down the shadowed stairs, then moved through several back corridors and a secret tunnel that led to the eastern arch. She and Bentley were supposed to be in the city of Kenton, having claimed an assignment to avoid the formal greeting and the fanfare of the welcoming banquet that would begin when the sun set. She would catch all seven hells for her absence, but she preferred that to being trapped beneath the insufferable weight of courtly etiquette.
    She and Bentley had finished their duty quickly and returned at once, determined to hide in Lokey until the furor died down at the arrival of the royal guests from Lyoness. It was a good trick and they knew it well, stealing their liberty from under the nose of their Commander, Grissom Longshanks, one of the most hardened veterans the Kingsmen had ever known.
    “Do you think he’ll marry her?” Bentley asked.
    “Arravan and Lyoness have been enemies for almost three hundred years,” Darry said, thinking aloud. “When we last went to war over the Lowlands, King Bharjah himself killed my uncle, or so it’s said. He killed the future King of Arravan. Thousands of men died and nothing was gained, and the throne went to my father.
    “A skirmish here and there, a minor advance to test the strength of our defenses at the Gap, but nothing to indicate more. So why the overture toward Malcolm when Bharjah knows that my father will make any final decision? He extended the proposal to Malcolm for a reason. To put the idea out there and let Mal stew upon the repercussions, to let him wonder and spin his own webs. I have no doubt that Mal has known of this for half a year or more.”
    “Without telling your father?”
    “To have direct contact with Bharjah or his envoy without my father’s interference? Malcolm would be drooling at the prospect. Though my father knew nothing about it until after Mal sent his response. He pissed on his boots with that, but Mal’s always had a good aim, yes?”
    “Because your father would’ve knocked him in the head otherwise.”
    Darry smiled. “Maybe. Yet the past month has been spent preparing for their arrival. A few council meetings after the fact and my father gives his consent to the visit?” She still did not understand. “He might’ve ordered the Western Army to turn them back. What harm would that have done? My father hates Bharjah and Bharjah hates him. If that gave insult what would it matter? Would Bharjah ride to war for that?”
    “Would he?”
    “No,” Darry said. “No doubt he was shocked in the first place that his offer was even considered, much less accepted.”
    “And they were not turned back.”
    “Precisely. There’s something much deeper going on here. Jacob and my father have been behind closed doors for hours.”
    Bentley knew that Jacob was considered an expert on Lyoness, and it was rumored that he controlled a network of spies it had taken him years to install across the unfriendly border to the west, the information they supplied second to none.
    “Jacob knows something, and that knowledge somehow intrigues my father. It’s all I can think of that would make him willing to even consider this entire thing. And whatever Jacob knows you can be sure that Malcolm knows it as well, and perhaps even before Jacob did. It’s what spurred him into accepting Bharjah’s proposal.
    “Obviously Malcolm thinks this gamble with Bharjah’s daughter is a good one. She’ll stay here for weeks before they’re allowed to be alone together, and months before the word
marriage
is officially spoken. He’s buying time.”
    “Buying time for what?” Bentley asked. “As soon as he took Bharjah’s offer it was certain your parents would be involved. What time does that purchase when your father will lead the negotiations?”
    “None that I can see at this point. But it was Mal’s opening move, setting the board to his advantage.”
    “Does he seek the throne before it’s his?”
    “Why