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wasn’t sure she wanted to ask about what Alcaren’s mother thought.
    â€œHe hasn’t said much. He never does. He didn’t even shake his head or curse when I broke chisels and ruined stone blocks and broke clay molds. He knew I was trying, and that I just didn’t have the talent.” Alcaren’s lips curled ruefully.
    â€œWhat did he say when you told him about us?”
    â€œHe just smiled, and said it was about time I found someone who could take care of me.”
    â€œTake care of you?” blurted Secca.
    â€œRemember? I’ve never proved particularly adept at what they think is important. My hands can finger a lumand or a mandolin, but not work clay or stone. I get sick on ships in rough water, and I never enjoyed counting up golds.”
    The sorceress almost shook her head, thinking about how well Alcaren rode, how accomplished he was with a blade, how effectively he seemed to organize and lead people, and how much he knew. “And your mother?”
    â€œShe said that I was consorting well above my station, and that it was for the best, but that I should thank the harmonies and not get airs about it.” He was the one to shake his head. “She said that being your consort would be the most difficult task I’d ever tried.” The warm smile followed. “She might be right in that.”
    â€œNow I’m difficult?” Secca raised her eyebrows.
    â€œWhat you will attempt in attacking the Sturinnese has never been successful,” he pointed out. “Then, what you’ve already done has never been done, either.”
    Secca frowned. Anna had done far greater sorceries and become thefirst woman regent truly to rule a northern land in Defalk.
    â€œNo one else has ever destroyed a Sea-Priest fleet at sea. Even your lady Anna only destroyed them at anchor in the harbor.”
    â€œNo one else was ever foolish enough to try.” Secca glanced toward the windows. “I suppose we should go. You said we would be there by midmorning?”
    â€œBefore midday.”
    Secca turned toward her bedchamber to gather her riding jacket and her sabre, but Alcaren intercepted her and drew her into his arms.
    â€œWe do have to go,” she whispered.
    â€œIn a moment.”
    It was a very long moment before he released her—or she released him.
    By the time they had gotten their mounts from the stables, which were a good hundred yards behind the guest quarters and past the barracks that housed her lancers and the two companies of SouthWomen commanded by Alcaren, the cold rain had turned into an even finer mist. The formless gray clouds had lightened, and a cooler breeze swirled through the long, stone-paved courtyard. Infrequent light gusts of cool air alternated with warmer damper air.
    â€œIt will be colder tonight,” Alcaren said, as Secca mounted her gray.
    â€œI like that better than rain,” she replied.
    A discreet cough interrupted their conversation. “Lady, Overcaptain…”
    Secca turned in the saddle.
    Wilten stood by the stable door.
    Beside him was the SouthWoman captain Delcetta. The strawberry blonde woman had an apologetic smile on her face. “We have taken the liberty of having a squad of lancers from Loiseau and one from the SouthWomen to escort you. They are drawn up and awaiting you. Also, your chief archer Elfens has requested to accompany you with several of his best archers.”
    â€œThe Ladies of the Shadows have not been released from the White Tower, have they?” asked Alcaren.
    â€œNo, ser. But we do not know all who may follow them,” replied Delcetta.
    Wilten nodded, and added, “It is best that none think you unguarded.”
    Would she seem more formidable guarded or unguarded? Secca wondered.
    As she and Alcaren rode out of the courtyard, the lancers eased theirmounts into position, leaving the two of them between the crimson-trimmed, dark blue riding jackets of the SouthWomen