"Hold, minstrel." Gareth pitched his voice above the howling wind. "As your liege lord, I command you to stop."

Dalian whirled around, a frightened expression on his face. "Nay, let me go, my lord, I beg you. I have to go. He'll kill her if I do not give him the book."

Gareth swung down from the gelding, wrapped the reins once around a post, and strode toward the quay. "Do as I command, Dalian of Desire, or else learn here and now how I deal with thieves and murderers."

"Nay." Dalian's eyes widened in terror. He grabbed the leather pouch and leaped over the quay into the shallow, bobbing boat.

He landed off center. The boat tipped precariously on its side.

Dalian screamed and dropped the leather pouch into the bottom of the boat. He flailed wildly in an attempt to regain his balance.

The boat bobbed once more. Dalian toppled into the churning water.

Gareth broke into a run. Hoofbeats sounded on the road just as he reached the edge of the quay. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Clare riding toward him on her palfrey. The hood of her cloak had been blown back by the wind. Her hair lashed her face.

"Gareth, what are you going to do?" she called.

"I'm going to pluck your pet minstrel from the sea and then I shall teach him the price of betrayal."

"My lord, you must not hurt him. I'm certain there is an explanation for his behavior."

"Aye," Gareth muttered. "I vow that there is. And I intend to hear it before I hang him."

"Nay, you cannot hang him," Clare shouted.

"Why not? Tis the way in which I generally deal with thieves."

Dalian screamed again. Gareth looked down and saw the boy floundering helplessly in the roiling water.

It was obvious that Dalian could not swim.

Gareth unfastened the long length of his leather belt. He looped the end twice around his wrist and then he leaned down over the side of the stone quay. "Catch hold of my belt, Dalian."

"Tis better if I drown."

"Mayhap, but you are not going to drown. I have other plans for you, vassal. Take hold of the belt."

Dalian reached for the belt.

16

The ominous silence in the firelit chamber made Clare uneasy. She knew that Dalian was beyond uneasy. He was terrified. They both sat very still on their stools and waited for Gareth to speak.

Clare gave Dalian a small smile of encouragement. Dalian did not return the smile.

Gareth did nothing to ease the oppressive atmosphere. Clare had begun to suspect that he was deliberately allowing it to deepen. He lounged in a chair in front of the fire and gazed into the flames with a dark, brooding expression that boded ill. His elbows rested on the carved oak arms of the chair.

He finally spoke, startling Clare.

"What is the name of this other master whom you serve, Dalian of Desire?"

Dalian flinched. Clare saw his mouth open and close nervously. His hands squeezed together in his lap. "My lord, I beg you, do not ask me for his name. To speak it will bring disaster down upon this isle."

"He is such a powerful lord, then?" Gareth's voice was very soft.

"Aye."

"A great knight?"

"Aye."

"You once told me that he went on Crusade."

"Aye."

"You fear him more than you fear me?"

Dalian looked down at his hands. "You will do no more than hang me, my lord. My master can do much worse."

"What is worse than being hung, minstrel?"

Dalian's eyes flickered to Clare. He licked his lips. "He has promised to kill my lady if I betray him."

A terrible stillness settled over Gareth. "He actually said those words?

He specifically threatened to kill Lady Clare?"

Dalian shivered, although he was now warm and dry. "He vowed that he would kill all those for whom I had any affection. And then he promised to destroy me in a most hideous manner. No offense, my lord, but I would rather hang than die by magic."

Clare stared at him. "Magic?"

Dalian pressed his lips together as if fearing that he had said too much.

"Magic." Gareth repeated the word curiously, as though tasting it. "This lord whom you fear is a great magician, then?"

Dalian looked down at his clenched hands. "Aye. He is a master of the dark arts. He can walk through locked doors. He can make objects disappear. He knows the secrets of the ancients."

Gareth's brows rose. "This great magician who can walk through locked doors and make things disappear must send a boy of sixteen to steal a book from a lady? Why did he not simply materialize in my wife's study chamber and select the volume himself? Then he could have whisked himself away before anyone was the wiser."

"My lord, I do not pretend to know his reasoning," Dalian said desperately. "He never confides his plans to me or anyone else. Tis not his way. He keeps his own counsel."

"What, precisely, did he tell you to do while you were here?" Gareth asked.

"He bid me come here to Desire and enter the household as a minstrel. He said I was to become familiar with the hall and those who live here. He told me to be ready for a signal from him."

Clare frowned. "He knew I would be glad of a minstrel?"

"Aye. My master?" Dalian broke off and cast a quick, uncomfortable look at Gareth. "I mean, my former master said?"

"What did he say?" Clare prodded gently.

Dalian sniffed back a few tears. "He said my foolish poetry would likely please you, my lady. He said you would welcome me because you had a great fondness for romantic nonsense."

"He was right about one thing," Clare said. "You are welcome here, Dalian."

"He was welcome," Gareth corrected quietly. "Until he betrayed this house and me."

"I had to do it," Dalian whispered. "I had to take the book. He commanded me to do so."

Gareth's gaze sharpened. "When did he issue this command?"

"He appeared on the last day of the spring fair. He sought me out in the crowd and described the book that he wanted. He said that if I did not bring it to him within a sennight, he would destroy this hall and all those within."

"The spring fair?" Gareth's eyes narrowed. "He was in Seabern?"

"Aye." Dalian sniffed again. "He materialized there in the guise of a peddler."

"So that was why your mood changed so drastically on the last day of the fair," Clare said.

"I had begun to believe that he had forgotten about me," Dalian whispered. "In truth, during the past two months, I made myself believe that he no longer had any use for me, that mayhap I was free."

"Was that why you swore fealty to me, Dalian of Desire?" Gareth asked.

"Because you thought the magician had freed you of your oath to him?"

"He never asked for my oath, as you did, my lord." Dalian gazed forlornly at the floor. "To him I was never more than a servant. One does not ask a servant to swear a squire's oath."

Clare looked at the volume lying on the desk. "How did you know which of my father's books your magician wanted you to steal?"

"He described it to me when he sought me out at the fair." Dalian raised his eyes to the book on the desk. "He said it would be a large volume containing many strange recipes scripted in a poor hand. He said it would no doubt be among the items that Sir Humphrey had sent home just before he died."

"You knew that I have been studying just such a volume lately because you had assisted me with some of my experiments," Gareth said.

"Aye, my lord."

Gareth's mouth twisted briefly. "I thought you had a rare talent for experiments. Tis because you assisted your magician from time to time, I'll wager."

"Aye." Dalian swallowed heavily. "He taught me the things I needed to know in order to aid him in his studies. My lord, I must know, are you going to hang me tonight?"

"Why do you ask?"