settled by Gerfal bowing to the inevitable and submitting to Fergox. He referred often to his

master and hinted that Ramil would be seeing him soon.

"Who is your master?" Ramil asked frequently. "A Brigardian noble with a grudge against Gerfal?"

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Orboyd refused to be drawn. "I'm under orders not to say. But I assure you he will treat you as

befits a royal prince of noblest lineage. And one day, when you are King, I will be able to point to

you and say 'that man rode on my wagon.'"

Ramil thought it best not to mention that if he lived to be King he'd make sure that Orboyd was

caught and tried for his crime against the royal person, so he was unlikely to live to enjoy his

association.

"And the Princess? What does your master want with her?"

Orboyd shrugged, not very interested in that question. "Don't know. Hostage perhaps? He

doesn't like the Blue Crescent Islanders, but then who does, except perhaps their mothers?"

"Gordoc appears to like the Princess," Ramil suggested quietly. He was sick of hearing such

derogatory remarks about the Islanders from Orboyd, not least because they were

uncomfortably like his own comments made back in the palace.

"Oh, Gordoc." Orboyd snorted. "He's soft-hearted. Nursed an abandoned leveret this spring only 81

to cry buckets when he stood on it. I wouldn't pay much attention to him."

Tashi, meanwhile, sat beside the giant, letting his friendly talk wash over her. He let her mumble

her prayers at the appointed time, did not mock or try to startle her. He just occasionally stroked

her hair as if he could not believe its color and had to test that it was real.

She spent the time meditating on her anger. The

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murder of those two men in the forest had shocked her deeply. She was angry with her

abductors, but most of her rage was directed at all Gerfalians, and one in particular. No one

need have died if they had done their job of guarding her properly. How like Prince Ramil's

people to let the caravan over the border without even a proper search! The prince had been

useless as she anticipated and now seemed quite content to sit fraternizing with Orboyd when

he should be doing something before they got too far from Gerfal. What it was exactly she

expected him to do, she didn't know, but something, anything!

"Gordoc, do you know where we are going?" she asked hours later.

The giant almost dropped his reins, so surprised was he to hear his little travelling companion

speak. She had a nice voice too--soft and gentle.

"We're going to meet him," he replied. "That's all I know."

"Who's him?"

"The master."

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"Do you know his name?"

"Aw, little one, I can't tell you that." Gordoc passed her an apple.

Tashi twisted it in her fingers. "Can you tell me if he is a big master, like King Lagan, or a little master, like Orboyd?"

Gordoc chuckled. "You're trying to catch me out, aren't you? Well, he's nothing like Orboyd.

Much, much bigger. But never you mind, you'll meet him soon enough."

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Ramil persuaded Orboyd to let him join the Princess for a short time that evening as they made

camp. When he approached her spot by the tiger wagon, he found she no longer ate alone.

Tighe, Pashvin, and Gordoc sat around her with their bowls, watching her like an audience, even

exchanging critical observations about her performance of the ritual.

"She did that one beautifully," remarked Tighe as Tashi made a sinuous gesture with her hands.

"I thought yesterday's was a little more pronounced," Pashvin noted with the air of an expert.

"Today's is more subtle."

"She does everything beautifully," breathed an enraptured Gordoc.

Ramil sat down quietly and waited for her to finish. He admired her concentration with all these

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onlookers. Finally, he recognized the Crescent words of completion, having heard them often

enough from the delegation.

"As the Goddess wills," he muttered in Common.

Tashi folded her hands in her lap.

"Do you mock me for praying, Prince Ramil?" she asked.

"No, I thought I was being polite." Did she have to be so hostile? he wondered.

"I was told by your prime minister that you say 'God willing.'"

"We do, but I was trying to . . . oh, does it matter?"

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Ramil felt exasperated: he'd extended the olive branch only to have it snapped.

"Actually, it does matter," Tashi said simply. She was feeling more at peace with the world now that she had done her prayers. "My beliefs are important to me and if you are treating them

with respect that . . . well, that's an improvement."

Was it possible? Had a glimmer of a smile just appeared on her lips? Ramil thought.

"Now, you're laughing at me, Princess," said Ramil. "You think me an ignorant boor."

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"You are an ignorant boor, Prince Ramil."

Gordoc's mouth was hanging open. "She speaks so well, doesn't she, Pashvin?"

The tiger tamer nodded, fascinated by the exchange.

"Was that a joke at my expense, Your Highness?" Ramil asked.

"I thought you were the expert on jokes. You tell me." Tashi picked up her bowl and began

eating.

"When you put it like that, then I suppose, no, it wasn't really a joke because it's true." Ramil stretched out on the grass. "I'm a disgrace to my name. Been drunk half the time ever since I

was told I was to marry you. Managed to insult you and all your countrymen from the moment

of our first meeting--if not before. Add all that up and I suppose it does equal ignorant boor."

His honesty pulled on a thread in the knot of anger inside her, loosening it a little. She hadn't

expected him to see himself so clearly.

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"I'm sorry you hated the idea of marrying me, Your Highness. I wasn't that keen on marrying you

either," she admitted.

"I can imagine," Ramil said dryly.

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Their eyes met for the first time in understanding.

"It seems as though that will no longer be a problem for either of us.

Someone has other plans," she said.

"So it would appear." Ramil rose. "Princess." He bowed and returned to the fire.

Through her eyelashes, Tashi watched him go. Perhaps he was not all bad.

She remembered that he had tried to take the punishment for her yesterday and given her his

cloak. He did appear to be attempting, as far as it was in his nature, to be polite to her. Added to

that, he was the closest thing she had to an ally in the camp if they were to get free.

Escape? Was it possible? She thought about the road they had come down today: a harsh road

through the mountains. Even if she did slip away, she'd not get very far on foot before she was

caught. Still, she'd have to try as soon as an opportunity offered. Whatever lay at the end of this

journey was unlikely to be good news for her or her people.

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Chapter 5

From his vantage point on Orboyd's wagon, Ramil had been eyeing the circus horses for some

miles now. He knew that he would have to make an attempt to escape before they left the

mountain passes. He could ride swiftly, use the difficult terrain to his advantage, get back over

the border without being overtaken. The leggy grey at the back of the string looked the most