And there it was. The seed of hate from which all this had sprung. Once more, the Farseers did not have to see far to know whence their ill fortune came. The Prince's pitfall was built from his uncle's arrogance and cruelty. Hatred was the legacy Regal had bequeathed to me, as well, but my heart closed against the sympathy that flared in me. The Piebalds were my enemies. Regardless of what they had suffered, they had no right to this boy. "And what was Peladine to you, Laudwine?" I asked evenly. I suspected I knew the answer, but he surprised me.

"She was my womb-sister, my twin, as like to me as woman can be to man. Bereft of her, I am the last of my line. Is that reason enough for you?"

"No. But it is for you. You would do anything to have her live again in human flesh. You'd help her steal this boy's body to house her mind. Even though that goes against every Old Blood teaching we hold dear." I let my voice ring with righteousness. If my words shocked any of his warriors, they hid it well.

Laudwine halted his horse a sword's length away from us. He leaned down to fix me with his stare. "There's more to it than a brother's grief. Break your lackey's bonds to the Farseer family and think for yourself. Think for your own kind. Forget our old customs of limiting ourselves. Old Blood is a gift from Eda, and we should use it! There is great opportunity here, for all of us who bear Old Blood. We have a chance to be heard. Let the Farseers admit to themselves what legend has long said is true; the Wit is in their blood as thick as the Skill. This boy will be king someday. We can make him ours. When he steps into power, he can end the persecution we have endured so long."

I bit my lower lip in a show of thoughtfulness. Laudwine could little imagine what decision I truly weighed. If I did as he wished, the Farseer line would still have its heir, in body at least. Nettle could live a life of her own, free of fate's entangling web. And there might be good in it, for the Old Blood and the Six Duchies. All I had to do was surrender Dutiful to a life of torment. The Fool and my wolf could go free, and Nettle could live, and perhaps the Old Blood could eventually be free of persecution. Even I could live. Give up a boy I scarcely knew to buy all that. One single life, weighed against all those others.

I made my decision.

"If I thought you spoke true " I began, and then halted. I stared at Laudwine.

"You might come over to us?"

He believed me to be a man caught between death and compromise. I let uncertainty show in my eyes, and then gave the briefest possible nod. I reached up one-handed and tugged at my collar, loosening it. Jinna's beads peeped out at him. You like me, I begged him. Trust my words. Desire me for a friend. Then I spoke my coward's speech. "I could be useful to you, Laudwine. The Queen expects Lord Golden to bring the Prince back to her. If you kill him and the Prince goes back alone, they will wonder what became of Golden, and why. If you let us live, and we take the Prince back to them, well, I can explain away the changes in his demeanor. They'll accept him back unquestioningly." His eyes wandered over me, deliberating. I watched him convince himself. "And Lord Golden would go along with what you said?"

I made a small sound of derision. "He has not the Wit. He has only his eyes to tell him that we have regained the Prince alive and unharmed. He will think only of his hero's welcome at Buckkeep. He will believe that I negotiated the Prince's freedom, and be glad to claim the credit for it at court. In fact, he will witness me doing it. Take us to where you hold him. Let us make a show for him. Send him on his way with my wolf, assuring him that the Prince and I will follow." I nodded sagely as if confirming the thought to myself. "Actually, it is best if he is well on his way. He should not witness the woman taking over the boy. He might wonder what was amiss with him. Let Lord Golden be gone first."

"You seem very concerned for his safety," Laudwine probed.

I shrugged. "He pays me well to do very little. And he tolerates my wolf. We are both getting on in years. Such a post is not easily found."

Laudwine grinned, but in his eyes I saw his secret contempt for my servant's ethic. I opened my collar more.

He glanced at Dutiful. The boy's eyes were fixed on his face. "A problem," Laudwine observed softly. "The boy has no benefit in our bargain. He may well betray it to Lord Golden."

I felt Dutiful draw breath to speak. I tightened my grip on him, asking for silence while I thought, but he spoke anyway. "My interest is in living," he said clearly. "However JST

poor an existence it may become. And in my cat. For she is true to me, even if your sister is false to both of us. I will not abandon the cat to her. And if she takes my body from me, then perhaps that is the price I must pay, for letting a Piebald make a fool of me with promises of fellowship. And love." His voice was steady, and pitched to carry. Beyond Laudwine's shoulder, I saw two of his riders look aside, as if Dutiful's words pained them. But no one spoke up on his behalf.

A thin smile twisted Laudwine's mouth. "Then our pact is made." He extended his free hand toward me, as if we would seal the bargain with a touch. He smiled disarm-ingly at me. "Take your knife from the boy's throat."

I gave him a wolf's smile in return. "I think not, just yet. You have said this Peladine can take him at any time? Perhaps, if she does, you will think you have no need of me. You might kill me, let your sister have the boy, and then present him to Lord Golden, the hostage freed to return to court. No. We will do it my way. Besides, this lad may change his feelings about what we do. The knife helps him remember that my will is what will be." I wondered if Dutiful would hear my promise enfolded in those words. I kept my eyes fixed on Laudwine and did not vary my tone. "Let me'see Lord Golden remounted and set free, with my wolf at his side. Then, when I see how you keep your word, I will surrender us both to your will."

Feeble, feeble plan. My true strategy went no further than getting them to take us to the Fool and Nighteyes. I continued to hold my smile and gaze on Laudwine but I was aware of the others edging their horses closer. My grip on the knife was steady. At some point, the Prince had reached up to grasp my wrist. I had scarcely been aware of his touch, for although it looked as if he resisted my blade, he did not. In truth, it was almost as if he held the knife steady against his own throat.

"We will do it your way," Laudwine conceded at last.

It was an awkward business to mount Myblack while — sa, keeping my knife a threat to the Prince, but we managed it. Dutiful was almost too cooperative a victim; I feared Laudwine would see. I would have given much, just then, for the Prince to have been trained in Skilling. Our thread of joining was too fine for me to know his thoughts, nor did he know how to focus his mind toward mine. All I could sense was his anxiety and determination. Determination to do what, I could not divine. Myblack was not pleased with the doubled burden she had to carry, and my heart misgave me. Not only did I risk making her injury worse, or permanent, but if it became necessary to flee, she would already be weary and sore. Every hitch of Myblack's limp was a rebuke to me. But I had no alternatives. We rode, following Laudwine, and his companions closed in around us. They did not look well disposed toward me. I recognized a woman from our brief battle. I did not see either of the men I had fought. The Prince's former companions showed no evidence of sympathy or friendship for him now. He did not seem to see them, but rode looking forward with the point of my knife pressed high against his ribs.

We turned back and cut across the hillsides, past the barrow and toward the forest. The land we crossed hum-mocked oddly, and I soon decided that many years ago, a town of some sort had stood here. Meadow and woods had taken the land again, but land that has borne the plow ever after lies flatter. Moss had coated the stony walls that had once divided pastureland, and grass grew atop that, amidst the thistle and bramble that seem to love such stony places. "No one lives forever," the walls seemed to say. "Four stones stacked atop one another will outlive all your dreams and still stand when your descendants have long forgotten that you lived here."