A tree boll across the clearing served for the first target. It was an

easy mark, and Alec outshot most of the Haman archers. By the end of it, he had five new shatta on his quiver.

"Would you care to try something a bit harder?" he asked.

The others exchanged amused glances as he cut a dozen straight young branches and trimmed them to wands. Setting these upright in a patch of soft ground, he paced back twenty feet and scratched a shooting line in the moss with his heel.

"And what are we to do with those? Split them down the middle?" a Haman youth scoffed.

"You could." Alec settled his quiver against his right hip. "But this is the way I was taught."

Drawing four shafts in smooth succession, he nipped off the tips of four wands, alternating high and low.

Turning, he saw a mix of admiration and dismay on his opponents' faces. "Master Radly of Wolde, who makes these bows, won't sell them to anyone who can't do that."

A man named Ura held up a carved boar-tooth shatta. "I wager you can't do that again!"

Side bets were exchanged. Alec took his time fitting an arrow to the bowstring, waiting for a puff of wind to die down. A familiar calm settled over him, as it always did when he gave himself up to the bow. Bringing his left arm up, he drew and released in one smooth flow of motion. The chosen wand shivered as his arrow nicked the tip neatly away. He nocked a second shaft, then a third and fourth, sending each unerringly to their targets. Amazed laughter and a few low grumbles burst out among his competitors.

"By the Lightbearer's own Eyes, you are as good as they claim!" Orilli exclaimed. "Come on, Ura, meet your bet."

Alec accepted the prize with a modest smile, but couldn't help looking around to see if Klia had witnessed his victory.

She wasn't there.

Nazien lay dozing on the moss now, but there was no sign of her anywhere in the glade. Or of Emiel, he realized with a stab of alarm.

Stay calm, he thought as he excused himself from the games and walked over to Beka, who was talking with Nyal. Her horse is still here, so they can't have gone far.

"She took a walk with Emiel over that way," Beka told him, pointing to a trail leading down through the trees. "Klia complained of the heat, and Emiel offered to show her some shady pools downstream. I tried to go along with an escort, but she

ordered us to remain here." The look in her eyes suggested that she was much less happy about the situation than he'd first supposed.

"How long have they been gone?"

"Since just after you began your archery contest," Nyal replied, squinting up at the sun. "Half an hour, perhaps a little more."

Alec's sense of uneasiness returned in force. "I see. Perhaps I'd enjoy seeing these pools."

"I'm sure you would," Beka replied, keeping her voice low. "See that you keep out of sight."

The track led down a steep slope through wide-spaced trees. The stream that watered the glade crossed it, then tumbled down through a series of deep basins. Two sets of boot prints showed clear along the soft bank, and Alec followed them, reading the story they told. Two people had meandered along the water's edge, jumping across the narrow watercourse several times and pausing at the larger pools, perhaps looking for fish.

Rounding a bend in the stream, Alec caught a bright flash of Haman yellow between the trees. He approached softly, intending to ascertain Klia's whereabouts and discreetly withdraw.

What he saw as he came closer, however, made him abandon all stealth. Klia was thrashing on the ground beneath Emiel, who crouched over her, hands locked around her throat. Klia was tearing at the man's hands, heels kicking up clods of damp moss as she struggled to free herself. Water streamed from her hair, soaking the upper part of her tunic.

Alec charged, knocking the Haman away from her. Emiel came down hard on his back.

"What was your plan, then?" Alec snarled, bending over him, one hand on his dagger hilt. "Were you going to dump her in the water and claim she got lost? Or that some animal had killed her? Do you have beasts that strangle here in your forests?»

Gathering a fistful of the Haman's tunic, Alec dragged him to his feet with one hand and drove his other fist into Emiel's face twice, as he let loose all the pent-up hate he felt for the humiliations and insults he and Seregil had endured. Blood spurted from the man's nose and welled in a shallow gash above his right eye. Twisting in Alec's grip, he swung back wildly, catching Alec on the side of the head. The pain only fed his anger. Grabbing Emiel with both hands, Alec slammed him into the nearest tree. Momentarily stunned, Emiel collapsed in an awkward heap.

"So much for Haman honor!" Alec snarled, pulling off Emiel's sen'gai. Shaking the long strip of cloth loose, he bound the man's arms behind his back, then yelled for Beka.

Emiel groaned and tried to rise, and Alec kicked his feet out from under him. He drew back his fist again, welcoming an excuse to strike, but was stopped by a rasping croak behind him.

Klia was on her knees, one hand pressed to her throat, the other reaching out toward him.

"It's all right, my lady, I have him," Alec assured her.

Klia shook her head, then crumpled slowly to the ground.

Fear of a new sort shook him. Forgetting Emiel, he ran to her and gathered her in his arms. Half conscious, Klia writhed weakly against him, her breath coming in shallow, labored gasps. Tipping her head back, he found angry red scratches on her throat.

"Klia, can you hear me? Open your eyes!" Alec steadied her head between his hands. Her face was white, her skin clammy. "What's wrong? What did he do to you?»

Klia stared blearily up at him and slurred out, "So cold!"

He rolled her on her belly and pressed hard on her back, hoping to squeeze any water from her lungs. His efforts produced nothing but a dry, hacking wheeze. When he turned her over again, he found her insensible.

"What happened?" Beka yelled, racing down the trail with Nyal and a pack of armed Urgazhi on her heels.

"He attacked her!" Alec spat out. "He was strangling her or drowning her—I don't know which. She can hardly draw breath! We've got to get her back to Sarikali."

"Riders, keep the others back!" Braknil ordered, taking in the scene. "We've got to get to the horses."

"Keep who back?" Nazien demanded, arriving with several of his men. "What's happened?"

He halted in astonishment, looking first at his kinsman, bloodied and trussed with his own head cloth, then at Klia gasping in Alec's arms. "Emiel i Moranthi, what have you done?"

"Nothing, my uncle. By the Bow of Aura I swear it!" Emiel replied, rising awkwardly to his knees. Blood streamed from his smashed nose, and one eye was already swollen shut. "She paused to drink, then fell. I pulled her from the water, but she was choking. I was trying to help her when this" — he shot Alec a stony look— "this boy appeared and attacked me."

"Liar!" Alec tilted Klia's head back against his shoulder. "I saw

his hands on her throat. Look for yourselves; you can still see the marks. No fall would stop her breath like this."

Nazien stepped closer to inspect Klia, only to be blocked by Beka and Braknil. Other Urgazhi flanked them, blades drawn in warning. Outrage warred with concern in the old Haman's face for an instant, then he sagged visibly. "Please believe me, my friends, I had no hand in this and will see that no one hinders your return to the city. You'll find your way faster with a guide. Will you trust me to lead you?"

"After this?" Beka exclaimed, standing over the princess. Her tone was menacing, but her freckles stood out starkly against the sudden pallor of her face.

Klia stirred in Alec's arms. Opening her eyes, she rasped, "Let him."