"I told you. Nothing."

"Ah. That explains why she speaks so ill of you then. But only in the last day or so, so I supposed you 'nothinged' her the night the rest of us went to town."

"Starling," I began warningly, and she raised a placating hand.

"I shan't say a word about whatever you didn't do to her. Not another word. That's not what I came up here to speak to you about anyway."

She paused, and when I refused to ask the question, she did. "What do you plan to do after we get to Blue Lake?"

I glanced at her. "Collect my pay. Have a beer and a decent meal, a hot bath and a clean bed for one night at least. Why? What do you plan?"

"I thought I might go on to the Mountains." She gave me a sideways glance.

"To seek your songworthy event there?" I tried to keep my question casual.

"Songs are more likely to be found clinging to a man than bound to a place," she suggested. "I thought you might be going to the Mountains as well. We could travel together."

"You've still that idiotic notion that I'm the Bastard," I accused her flatly.

She grinned. "The Bastard. The Witted one. Yes."

"You're wrong," I said flatly. "And even if you were right, why follow him to the Mountains? I'd take the chance for a bigger profit, and sell him to the King's Guard. With a hundred gold pieces, who'd need to make songs?"

Starling made a small sound of disgust. "You've more experience of the King's Guard than I have, I'm sure. But even I've enough to know that a minstrel who tried to claim that reward would probably be found floating in the river a few days later. While some guardsmen became suddenly very wealthy. No. I've told you. I'm not after gold, Bastard. I'm after a song."

"Don't call me that," I warned her sharply. She shrugged and turned away. After a moment she twitched as if I'd poked her and then turned back to me with a grin widening across her face.

"Ah. I believe I've worked it out. That's how Tassin was squeezing you, isn't it? Asking for money to still her tongue."

I made no reply.

"You're smart to refuse her. Give her any and she'll think she's right. If she truly believed you were the Bastard, she'd be holding her secret to sell to the King's Guard. Because she's had no experience of them, and would believe she might actually get to keep the gold." Starling stood, stretching leisurely. "Well. I'm back to bed while I may. But keep my offer in mind. I doubt you'll find a better one." She swirled her cloak about herself theatrically, then bowed to me as if I were the King. I watched her stroll away from me down the hill, surefooted as a goat even in the moonlight. She reminded me briefly of Molly.

I considered slipping away from the camp and going on to Blue Lake on my own. I decided that if I did, Tassin and Starling would only become certain that they had guessed correctly. Starling might try to follow and find me. Tassin would try to find a way to collect the reward. I wanted neither of those things. Better to stick it out and plod along as Tom the shepherd.

I lifted my eyes to the night sky. Clear and cold it arched above me. The dead of the night had a nasty chill to it of late. By the time I got to the Mountains, winter would be more than just a threat. If only I hadn't wasted those early months of summer being a wolf, I'd be in the Mountains by now. But that was another useless thought. The stars were close and bright tonight. It made the world seem a smaller place to have the sky so close. I felt suddenly that if I just opened up and reached for Verity, I would find him there, right at my fingertips. Loneliness swelled so suddenly inside me that I felt it would tear its way out of me. Molly and Burrich were no farther away than the closing of my eyes. I could go to them, could trade the hunger of not knowing for the pain of being unable to touch. The Skill walls, clutched so closely every waking moment since I had left Tradeford, now felt suffocating rather than shielding. I bowed my head to my drawn-up knees and hugged myself against the chill emptiness of the night.

After a time, the hunger passed. I lifted my head and looked out over the peaceful sheep, the cart and wagons, the motionless camp. A glance at the moon told me my watch was well over. Creece was never good about rousing himself to take his turn. So I stood and stretched and went down the hill to poke him from his warm blankets.

The next two days passed uneventfully, save that the weather grew colder and windier. On the evening of the third, just as we had settled for the night and I had taken up my first watch of the evening, I saw a dust cloud on the horizon. I thought little of it at first. We were on one of the more traveled caravan routes, and had stopped at a watering place. A wagon full of a tinker family had already been there. I assumed that whoever was raising the dust would also be seeking a water-place to rest for the night. So I sat and watched the dust get closer as the evening darkened. Slowly the dust resolved into figures on horseback, riding in an orderly formation. The closer they came, the more certain I became. King's Guards. The light was too weak for me to see the gold and brown of Regal's colors, but I knew.

It was all I could do to keep myself from leaping up and fleeing. Cold logic told me that if they were seeking me specifically, it would only take them a few minutes to ride me down. This vast plain offered me no near hiding places. And if they were not seeking me, to flee would only attract their attention, and make both Tassin and Starling certain in their suspicions. So I gritted my teeth and remained where I was, sitting with my stick across my knees watching the sheep. The riders bypassed me and the sheep and went directly to the water. I counted as they went past. Six of them. I recognized one of the horses, a buckskin colt Burrich had said would be a good courser someday. Seeing him reminded me too vividly of how Regal had plundered Buckkeep of every valuable thing before he left it to fend for itself. A tiny spark of anger ignited in me, one that somehow made it easier to sit and bide my time.

After a while, I decided that they were just on their way as we were, and had stopped only to water and rest for the night. Then Creece came lumbering out to find me. "You're wanted in the camp," he told me with ill-conceived irritability. Creece always liked to sleep as soon as he'd eaten. I asked him what had changed our schedule as he settled down in my place.

"King's Guards," he huffed angrily. "Pushing everybody about, demanding to see every member of our caravan. They searched all the wagons, too."

"What are they looking for?" I asked idly.

"Damned if I know. Didn't care to get a fist in the face for asking, either. But you suit yourself about finding out."

I took my staff with me as I walked back into the camp. My shortsword still hung at my side. I thought of concealing it, then decided against it. Anyone might carry a sword, and if I needed to draw it, I didn't want to be wrestling with my trousers.

The camp was like a stirred hornet's nest. Madge and her folk looked both apprehensive and angry. The guardsmen were currently harassing the tinker. One guardswoman kicked over a stack of tin pots with a fine clatter and then shouted something about searching anything she pleased, any way she pleased. The tinker stood by his wagon, his arms crossed on his chest. He looked as if he'd already been knocked down once. Two guardsmen had his wife and youngsters backed up against the tail of the wagon. The wife had a trickle of blood coming from her nose. She still looked ready to fight. I drifted into camp as silent as smoke and took a place beside Damon as if I'd always been there. Neither of us spoke.

The leader of the guards turned away from his confrontation with the tinker, and a shiver went up my back. I knew him. It was Bolt, favored by Regal for his skill with his fists. I'd last seen him in the dungeon. He was the one who had broken my nose. I felt the beating of my heart pick up speed and heard my pulse in my ears. Darkness threatened the edges of my vision. I fought to breathe quietly. He paced to the center of the camp and cast a disdainful eye over us. "This is everyone?" he demanded more than queried.