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more than a cynical foe, a viper coiled in the ground cover, awaiting the opportunity to strike.
    Gaétan shook his head, grimaced again. “No. Karyl didn’t avenge Lucas. I did, for all that’s worth. Shot the Brokenheart bastard who speared him right out of the saddle.
    â€œNo, all Karyl did then was save us all.”
    Yannic was glaring through his bandages as if deranged. His lips opened as if to speak. Melchor grabbed his arm to silence him. The fat man’s grip must have been unexpectedly strong; Rob could see his fellow lord wince through his bandage-mask.
    â€œKaryl shot the leading morion through both cheeks with his hornbow,” Gaétan said. “She threw her rider and turned right about, knocking over two other duckbills who were following too close behind. The dinosaur knights were all clumped together, you see.
    â€œThat stopped them cold. As for the Crève Coeur chivalry, few wore full plate—why put themselves to the heat and bother, to trample a handful of peasant scum like us? Instead most wore chain and open helmets. So as they closed with us, even our shortbows were able to hurt them. Karyl and I emptied some saddles with our Ovdan bows. The crossbows may have gotten some too.”
    He shook his head wearily. “Then I got stuck. I—I can’t tell any more. But if Karyl hadn’t kept us archers back, none of us would be here now. That … I know—”
    His blue eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped against his sister. Rob felt like applauding. If that was genuine—and it certainly appeared so, especially the way Jeannette cried out and began to weep—Gaétan’s body, at least, had a Fae’s own sense of timing.
    Into the silence that gathered like spirits of the dead around the young woman’s sobs, Bogardus said, “Who can tell us what happened next? You, you—”
    He gestured at Reyn and Pierre. “Come close, my friends, if you please. What happened after gallant Gaétan fell?”
    Despite his earlier defiance, Reyn shot Yannic a fearful glance. But he complied. Pierre strode forward as forthrightly as his limp would allow. There walks a man who feels he’s little left to lose , thought Rob.
    â€œSome of us who’d run rallied behind the archers, took up a stand in the woods,” Pierre said. “We were afraid, still. But we—I—I saw the rich boy Gaétan fall, and the lord Karyl stand. They could’ve run away as soon as they saw us come over that cursed hill with Old Hell on our heels. Instead they risked their own lives to give us a chance to keep ours.”
    â€œDo you seriously expect us to believe that a few paltry archers and some frightened peasants crouching in the underbrush not only stood off Crève Coeur knights, but routed them?” asked Violette in a bone-dry tone.
    â€œIt’s true,” said Reyn. He sounded glum. Clearly he didn’t like the choice he was making. But then if he hadn’t found it more palatable than the alternatives—silence, or a lie—he wouldn’t have chosen it, thought Rob.
    And there’s your cue, lad . He stood up and walked toward the dais.
    Halberds clashed in front of him. Rob extended a finger beneath the X they made and pushed upward.
    â€œOut of my way, pencil dicks,” he told the town guardsmen. They raised their weapons and stood aside. “Smart lads.”
    â€œThis man’s on trial!” exclaimed Longeau. “How can he be permitted to speak?”
    â€œIn justice, how can he not, my friend?” Bogardus asked. “What have you to tell us, Master Korrigan?”
    Nothing bloody Karyl shouldn’t be saying in his own bloody defense , Rob thought. He successfully fought off the urge to glance over his shoulder at his codefendant. In for a penny, in for a pound.
    As he reached the clear space between dais and dining tables Rob took a step to his left. No point