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one man.”
    “Then why is it so important that you keep him here?”
    The duke hesitated, then smiled wryly and shook his head. “You’re playing games with me, now.”
    “I assure you, my lord, this is no game. He can lead me to Fetnalla, and she, in turn, can lead me to the conspiracy. There’s far more to be gained by letting him go. If I can find Fetnalla, if I can turn her from this dark path she’s on, perhaps she and I together can strike a blow against the renegades. Wouldn’t that be worth something?”
    “It would, were it possible. But I don’t believe it is. I’m sorry, Evanthya, but I believe that Fetnalla has gone too far to turn back. And as you’ve told me yourself, the archminister is a threat to us all. I can’t let him escape, and I’ll look upon any attempt on your part to help him do so … as a most serious offense.”
    He had been going to say, “as an act of treason.” She was certain of it. It was a measure of how much he cared for her that he didn’t.
    The duke crossed to his door, pulled it open, and beckoned to one of the guards. “Have the master of arms sent to me immediately,” he said.
    “What are you going to do, my lord?” Evanthya asked, as Tebeo closed the door again.
    “I’m going to double the guard in the corridor outside his chamber, and place extra guards in every corridor that offers access to the prison tower.”
    The minister shook her head. “All you’re doing is placing more men in danger, my lord. A shaper can shatter bone with a thought. A Qirsi with delusion magic can make a man do nearly anything—it’s quite possible that Pronjed made the king kill himself.”
    “So what can I do?”
    “That’s my point. I’m not certain you can do anything without putting more lives at risk. This is one instance in which your army can’t help you. If he was in a courtyard surrounded by one hundred archers, you might be able to stop him, though his power of mists and winds would make it difficult. But he’s in a prison tower, where the corridors are narrow, and only a few men can stand against him at any given time.”
    “Surely four men outside his door will make his escape more difficult than would two.”
    “A bit. But in the end you’d merely have to build four pyres rather than two.”
    Tebeo rubbed a hand over his face, looking forlorn. “How does one fight such an enemy?”
    No doubt this was a question Eandi lords were asking themselves throughout the Forelands.
    “You fight them just as you would any cunning, powerful foe: by forging alliances, by using tactics that you’ve never thought to employ before, and by choosing your battles carefully.”
    He eyed her for several moments. “What do you suggest?”
    “You know what I want you to do, my lord. Let him go. Remove one of the guards from the corridor outside his chamber.”
    “What?”
    “If only one man is there, Pronjed can use his mind-bending magic on the man. He can free himself from the chamber without harming anyone. Indeed, if we plan this well, he can escape without hurting a single man.”
    “Did you speak to him of this as well?”
    Evanthya felt her face coloring once again. “Yes, my lord. Forgive me. I was—”
    “No. It’s all right. We’re living in extraordinary times. My loyal minister is conspiring with a Qirsi renegade to effect his escape in a way that saves Eandi lives. I suppose it’s funny, in a way.”
    “It’s a bitter jest, my lord. You should know that I hate this man. I do this for Fetnalla, and because I believe that I can help those who are fighting the conspiracy.”
    A lengthy pause, and then, “You’d be the only one of us.”
    Evanthya frowned. “My lord?”
    “Men from Mertesse and Solkara marched north to fight the Eibitharians, but I doubt that they’ll join forces with the enemy to fight this Weaver and his renegades. And even if we had a king to lead us, I’m not certain that we could provision an army and send it north in time to