promising but Ramil had a nagging doubt about the gelding's stamina. He might do better on

that solid-looking piebald, particularly as the first part of the journey would be uphill.

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The only problem was the Princess. She couldn't ride and she would slow him down. He knew

that he had to leave her behind if he stood any chance of succeeding, and yet--

Your duty is to Gerfal, the Prince told himself. And if you want to help the Princess, you 'd do

better escaping to fetch an army than riding blindly into Brigard just to keep her company. He

still felt rotten that he had to make the decision to abandon her. It wasn't very heroic.

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The caravan stopped for the noon meal. Ramil wandered casually over to the horses. He could

feel Orboyd watching his every move so he tried to look as aimless as possible. The piebald

pricked his ears forward and snorted, smelling the horse-knowledge on the human. Ramil stood

forehead to forehead with the beast, searching for that shared peace that was the beginning of

all rider and horse partnerships among his mother's people.

The circus folk and Tashi stopped their preparations for the meal to watch.

"What are you doing to my horse, Your Highness?" Orboyd asked suspiciously.

Ramil stood up straight. "Ever had trick riding in your circus, Orboyd?"

The chief shook his head. "No, but I've seen it down south."

"Perhaps you should think about it. Shall I show you?"

"You, a prince, show us trick riding? Now that I have to see!" Orboyd laughed.

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Ramil shrugged good-humoredly. He intended to display some of the skills every cavalry officer

in Gerfal learned as a cadet. If the circus folk thought these trick riding, that was all right by him.

Orboyd strode forward and untied the piebald. "The name's Flea."

Ramil quickly saddled up and began a warm-up circuit of the meadow where they had stopped

the wagons. It had been absurdly easy so far. No one else was mounted. There was nothing to

stop him galloping away. What he needed now was a distraction.

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"Go on then, Your Highness, show us what you can do!" called Orboyd, watching him with his

hands on his hips. As Ramil completed a circuit, he noticed that the chief had a crossbow at his

feet. Perhaps Orboyd was not as careless as Ramil had thought. He wouldn't get far with a bolt

lodged between his shoulders.

Rising first into a crouch, then into a standing position, Ramil continued to gallop Flea round in

circles. His perfect balance brought a smattering of applause.

That's nothing, thought Ramil. Wait until you see this.

Placing his hands on either side of the saddle, he slowly turned upside down, now riding in a

headstand. Next he rode cross-legged facing

backwards, then hanging upside down under the horse. He was enjoying showing off but all the

while he was alert for his opportunity.

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Suddenly, the display was interrupted by a shout from Gordoc: "Where's the Princess?"

The attention of the circus folk snapped away from Ramil. Orboyd grabbed his bow from the

ground and began firing off questions and orders.

"Where's the witch? Didn't you tie her up when we stopped, you fool? Find her!"

The men scattered in all directions. Ramil couldn't believe his luck: the Princess had provided

him with the perfect distraction. Swinging up to a secure seat in the saddle, he urged the horse

forward and galloped up the mountain road.

"Stop him!" yelled Orboyd, realizing his second prisoner was on the loose.

Ramil ducked. A crossbow bolt whistled overhead and quivered in the trunk of a pine

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tree. He was out of range before Orboyd had a chance to reload.

The road switchbacked steeply up the mountain. Ramil pushed the horse as hard as he dared,

sending stones clattering back down the cliffside. He could see the caravan stranded in the

meadow behind him--the men running about in confusion, hurrying to saddle horses to come in

pursuit of him, others searching for the Princess. He muttered a quick prayer for her protection.

She stood little chance of escape unless she was good at concealing herself, but he could do

nothing for her.

As he turned the last corner to the top of the ridge, a terrified, piercing scream rent the air,

echoing off the mountainside. Startled, Ramil reined his horse to a stop. Down in the meadow

below, a man in scarlet was dragging a girl along by her hair.

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Orboyd raised his eyes to the figure on horseback high up on the road above.

"Prince Ramil," he shouted, "if you take one step further, I'll kill the Blue Crescent witch, I swear I will!" He shook his captive viciously.

Ramil hesitated. He could see his pursuers were closing in, their horses making good speed up

the slope. He had to leave now if he wanted to escape.

Gordoc strode into the meadow, pushing his way past the men who'd

recaptured the Princess. "Give her to me!" he bellowed. "Don't you dare hurt her!"

Orboyd did not take his eyes off Ramil. "Boys, sit on him."

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The three acrobats leapt on Gordoc's back and wrestled him to the ground.

He yelled in fury but could not dislodge them.

"Don't make me kill her, Prince. I'm a peaceful man!" Orboyd shouted. He twisted his fist more tightly in Tashi's hair and brandished his knife.

Ramil closed his eyes and cursed. He'd seen the results of Orboyd's love of peace: two bodies in

the Royal Forest. There was no choice. It was one thing to ride off leaving her to take her own

chance, it was another to be knowingly responsible for her death. He nudged Flea round,

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walking him back down the path. As he did so, four riders galloped round the bend and tugged

him from the saddle. Tying his hands in front of him, they forced him to run behind them back

down the road.

The camp was eerily silent when Ramil stumbled into the meadow. Gordoc was col apsed

against the wheel of his wagon, sobbing. There was no sign of the Princess. Orboyd marched up

to Ramil and struck him hard across the face, still clutching the hilt of his knife.

"I thought we had an understanding! I told you to play by my rules and no one gets hurt!"

"I will not apologize for trying to escape. It is my duty as a prince of Gerfal to make the attempt,"

Ramil said proudly, but his heart was in the grip of fear.

Where was the Princess? Why was Gordoc crying? Orboyd hadn't killed her after all, had he?

"And now I'll be in trouble because I was supposed to deliver you both without damage."

Orboyd cursed and shoved the knife back in the sheath on his belt.

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"What have you done with the Princess?" Ramil's tone was menacing, but he'd never felt more

powerless.

Orboyd ignored him. He turned to the rest of his band. "We're leaving. Hitch up the wagons. As

for you, Prince Ramil, as you have so much energy for escaping, you can walk." He seized the

end of the rope tying Ramil's hands together and lashed it to his wagon. "We'll see after thirty

miles if you still think it a good idea to steal one of my horses."

Tashi's eyes fluttered open and closed again. She was confused, for a moment thinking she was

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back on board the flagship as everything around her was rocking and swaying. She plucked at

her covers and found, not the fine spun woollen blanket off her bed in the royal cabin, but a

matted fur.

Memory came back in painful fragments. Ramil had been showing off on that horse, acting more