"Stop," the metri said. "We are done with this tonight."

"Done?" Herakleio's chopped-off bark of laughter contained no humor. "I should say we have begun this tonight!"

Prima Rhannet seemed to have no interest in Herakleio's concerns. Her attention was fixed on Nihko. "What can Sahdri do? Take you? Against your will?"

Grimly he said, "loSkandics have no will. loSkandics set no foot upon the soil of this island once one is of ioSkandi. We live in the Stone Forest."

"But you did set foot," she said. "This time. You've always stayed aboard ship before. But you never said why– "

He cut her off. "It does not matter."

"But it does, Nihko-"

"No. A brief amount of time is tolerated. More is-not." He looked at his hostess, lowered his eyes, inclined his head. "Metri, I thank you for the guest-right."

"We have unfinished business," she stated crisply. "Until it is finished, the guest-right shall apply. And then you will remove yourself from my home and my land immediately. "

The flinch was minute, but present. Nihko kept his head bowed and murmured an answer in Skandic that apparently suited the metri, for she simply turned away with a gesture at Simonides for his aid.

"Wait," I said, and she paused. "What happens now?"

Her mask was in place. "I have now claimed you my grandson in front of witnesses as well as a priest. He may be ioSkandic, not of the proper Order, but he serves the same gods. It has been said, and so it is."

"And-?"

Her brow creased slightly. "And you will continue to do what I have bidden you do. Teach Herakleio to be a man."

That worthy's breath hissed between clenched teeth. "Metri– "

She looked at him. "And you will do whatever I say you shall, without question, without hesitation, no matter what it may be. That is the term of your service."

All the tendons stood up beneath his flesh as he fought not to shout denials and curses at her. When he spoke, each word was squeezed out with such immense precision that I expected his head to explode. "If it is to be sword-work, then I will have the woman train me." His gaze shifted to me. "Because she is better."

Prima gulped a laugh. Nihko arched an eyebrow. I merely blinked.

It was Del who answered the intended insult. "Sometimes," she said. "Some days, some moments, some particular movements. Other times, not."

I nodded consideringly. "That about sums it up."

So, we had robbed him of that small revenge. Stiffly, Herakleio bowed to the metri, then took himself off.

"Well," Prima said when his shape was swallowed by darkness, "I would not wish to share his winehouse tonight."

I smiled across at her. "Or his bed?"

The captain met the gambit. "Oh, it might be worth it. Herakleio in a temper… indeed, it might be worth it." She fixed me with a bright, challenging eye. "You might even enjoy it."

"Go to bed," the metri commanded; and then, surprising us all, added: "Anyone's bed," and gestured for Simonides to escort her into the house.

"Well," I said after a moment of startlement shared equally by the others, "at least my grandmother isn't a prude."

Prima smiled sweetly. "That must mean the blood runs true."

I scoffed. "Blood? I think not. She used the tool she had at hand: information designed to throw off that other blue-headed priestling for the moment." I looked hard at her first mate. "Who in hoolies is he? And what's he to you?"

Without a hint of irony Nihko said, "Secret."

I clamped my jaws tightly even as Del asked, "Need we be concerned?"

Prima shrugged. "Why should you?"

"Because we are here," Del answered steadily. "Because priests and mages often take an interest in people and topics seemingly unrelated, with dramatic effect. Because he looked at the brow ring hooked onto Tiger's necklet, and recognized it. It was then and only then that he offered a threat to Tiger. Therefore I ask, need we be concerned?"

"No," Nihko said coldly, even as his captain's expression stilled to a feral blankness for a brief, stark moment before settling once again into its normal expressive mobility. "All that concerns you now is how soon the metri will announce her heir before the priests-the proper priests"-he made it a derisive label-"and the assembled metrioi."

"Yes?" I invited.

"If it's you," Prima drawled, "you will inherit all the wealth and power of the Stessoi. Centuries of wealth and power." Her smile was arch. "And all the dreams you ever dreamed will come true."

"And what about your dream?" I countered. "Aren't you done here yet?"

"We have guest-right," Nihko snapped.

"And just what does that entail?"

Prima's smile shifted into unadulterated triumph. "It means every metri in the city must pay me respect to my face. It means I will gain a reputation that surpasses my father's."

"I thought you'd already accomplished that part," I retorted. "You steal men, their coin, their ships; he sells them."

Her smile vanished. But before she could answer, Del cut her off. "We're not on board your ship anymore. You can't tell us to leave the household of the woman who has now announced before witnesses she is his grandmother."

"That's right," I said brightly. "I guess I'm the one who can tell you to leave."

"It is not your household yet," Prima shot back.

Nihko's voice was cool. "And who says you will survive to inherit?"

With one deft move, Del tossed her sword to the first mate. Steel flashed, arced; he caught it without thought, hissed startlement, then stared at her. "Settle it," she suggested. "Man to man, here and now. In this circle."

Oh, thanks is what I wanted to say; my wrenched thumb ached dully. But I knew better. I just waited for Nihko's answer.

"I will not dishonor the metri," he said. "But, of course, I merely referred to the illness of her heart. Who is to say her grandson has not inherited its weakness?"

Double-edged blade, that. And we all of us knew it.

Prima took the sword from him, shoved its hilt toward Del. "The metri bought it for you. I suggest none of us dishonor her."

"Ah," I said sagely, "there must be some form of terrible punishment if you kill the heir of a metri."

"Sometimes," Nihko said gently, "one need not be killed to suffer the worst punishment."

Ikepra. Borjuni. We both knew the truth in his statement.

For the second time in the space of one evening, I saluted him with my sword.

Prima made a sound of disgust. "Men," she said, her sidelong glance aimed at Del. "Why is it they can fight, and then immediately be friends again? They waste a perfectly good grudge that way."

Del's eyes glinted even as her mouth twitched, and I knew none of us was going to kill one another.

Tonight.

TWENTY-NINE

FROM BESIDE me in bed, Del spoke quietly into the darkness. "You're awake."

"So are you."

"But I was asleep. I don't think you've slept since we came to bed."

"Long night."

"Full night," she emphasized dryly. Then, "Is this what you dreamed of?"

From my back, I stared hard at the ceiling I could not see. "I dreamed of no such thing in the hyorts, or even when I slept beneath the stars after a beating."

"A sandtiger," she said softly. "And freedom."

"Never beyond that. Never beyond the moment of freedom, when I could walk away and know myself able to make my own choices about my life."

"And now?"

"Now I'm no more free … no, it's not the same and I don't mean it to be, but she said something, something about responsibility, and the acceptance of it marking adulthood."

For a moment Del was silent. Then, softly, "The metri is a strong woman."

"But is she right?"

"About responsibility and adulthood?" Del sighed, shifted onto her back so that we lay side by side and flat, shoulders touching. "Taken of itself, I believe she is. Children live for their freedom, for the moment their tasks are done-if they have any-so that they may make choices about their lives. Of course, those 'lives' comprise the next few moments, little more… but the impulse is the same. To be finished, so they may be free."