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Adenmouth, just across another bend in the Aden, which then poured noisily past low gray houses crowded at the edge of a cove. Mitt was glad. By the time they had gone up the main street to the mansion, he was not sure he could have walked another step. Their arrival caused much confusion, for a good hundred more people came out of the houses to see what was wrong and then followed them into the courtyard of the mansion, where rows of trestle tables that had been set up for the Midsummer Feast all had to be moved to make way for the cart.
    Lady Eltruda was out on the hall steps, bellowing instructions in a voice like the armsmaster’s. “Navis!” she yelled. “Get that thing through to the stables! Spannet, fetch the lawman! You!” she screamed at Mitt. “You in the Aberath livery! Bring that poor girl to me!”
    Before Mitt could move, Rith was dragging Fenna and the Countess-horse toward the steps, zigzagging between tables and shouting back. “Aunt! Aunt! I’m here! I got here, and I got my sign!”
    At this Lady Eltruda dashed down the steps, yelling, “Noreth, my dove! Noreth!” and flung her arms round Rith.
    Mitt stared. He felt terrible.

3

    The confusion cleared up surprisingly quickly. Mitt was almost alone in the yard, wondering what on earth to do now, when Navis put a hand on his shoulder.
    â€œCome to my room,” he said. “Tell me your news there.”
    Funny, Mitt thought, staring slightly downward into Navis’s cool, clear-cut face. I don’t remember him being that small. Maybe I grew. “I would if I could walk,” he said.
    Navis smiled a little. “It’s not far. But I can’t carry you.”
    He turned and led the way. Mitt hobbled after him, protesting, “I do know how to ride! It’s just that I never did it for a whole day before!” They went through the hall, big enough, but a dark little place compared with the one at Aberath, and up a shallow flight of steps. Navis had a comfortable paneled room beyond, as good as one of Alk’s. Typical, Mitt thought, looking round. He must be well in with Lord Stair. “How did you know I got news?”
    â€œHush a moment,” Navis said. Two servingmen came into the room. They were grinning rather and carrying a large bowl of something sour and strong. They dumped it where Navis pointed and then hung about, lingeringly, as if there was some joke. “Thank you,” Navis said, “but we’d like to be private now.”
    â€œWhat is this?” Mitt said suspiciously as the men left, still grinning.
    â€œVinegar,” said Navis. “Take your leathers off and sit in it. Go on. It works.”
    Slowly, with misgivings, Mitt did as Navis said. He sat. Yelled. Tried to get out again and found himself held down by Navis’s unexpectedly strong hand. Vinegar spilled on the rugs, and Mitt went on yelling, even though he was sure the two men were standing outside the door loving every shriek. “Flaming Ammet!” he roared. “Are you trying to kill me?”
    â€œNo,” said Navis, and he went on holding Mitt down until Mitt’s yells had given way to gasps and then to miserable panting. Then he let go and went to the half-open door. “That will be all,” he said, and closed the door.
    Mitt heard footsteps retreating. “Can I get out now?”
    â€œThe longer you stay in, the sooner you’ll be able to ride again,” Navis said. “Tell me your news to take your mind off it.” It was on the tip of Mitt’s tongue to tell Navis he was as bad as Earl Keril, but he did not say it because he suddenly realized it was true. Navis, in his way, could be quite as ruthless as Keril. Earls’ blood will out! Mitt thought. He was wondering if he was going to be able to tell Navis anything after all when Navis added, “They wouldn’t have let you leave Aberath without very good reason, I’m