"Ramil."

Tashi was not sure she was pleased to hear his voice. He'd seen what had happened and made

no effort to stop it. Her cheeks flushed at the memory.

"To what do I owe the honor?" she replied, taking refuge in sarcasm.

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"I ... I wanted to give you this." He held out something white. "It's all right. I got permission from the priests to be here. I told them I was going to rescue you from evil ways. I don't think I and

the red brethren had quite the same thing in mind, but they agreed I could see you

nonetheless."

Stiffly, Tashi got to her feet and moved to the door. The only light came from the lantern out in

the corridor where he stood. It was very hard to see what he had in his hand.

"Go on, take it," Ramil urged.

She reached out and took a tiny paper model.

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"What is it?"

"A dragonfly." Ramil sounded sheepish. "I'm not very good at it. Yours was much better but it was the best I could do."

The crude dragonfly quivered in her hand.

"Thank you." Tashi found that she was crying again. Before this journey, she hadn't wept for years, and now she couldn't stop the tears coming. "I am very touched that you thought to do

this for me."

"Come here." Ramil stretched his arm as far as he could to brush the tears from her face. His thumb gently traced the line of her cheekbone. She really was very pretty, he realized. "I just

wanted to tell you that you were magnificent in there. And you have never looked more royal to

me than now."

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She shook her head.

"No, Princess, I mean it. And what is more, I regret every stupid thing I've said and done in your presence. I'm to blame for this and I promise you, Your Highness, that I'll think of a way of

rescuing you. If you'll let me, of course."

Tashi leant her face against the door, comforted by his hand just touching her cheek. "I don't

understand what I've done--why he is doing this to me,"

she said bleakly. "Is he making the same demands of you?"

"Not exactly," admitted Ramil. "He's using us to make our countries go to war and then he is going to take them over. Me, well, me he wants as a puppet prince married to one of his

Spearthrowing daughters,

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God help me, and you he wants to present to the Blue Crescent Islanders as his bride."

Tashi shuddered, revolted by the thought of Fergox touching her again, let alone marrying her.

"But I can't, I don't ... he thinks I'm an infidel."

"He believes you'll convert. He wants to use you to smooth the way to the change of state

religion in your home."

"I'd rather die first."

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Ramil nodded. It was exactly as he expected. "I promise I won't let it happen."

Tashi gave a sad laugh.

"I know you don't think I have it in me, but I'm going to get you out of here. It will just take time and planning. We can't rush into it like we did on the road; we'll work together, not separately. I

came tonight to beg that you will not give up hope."

"I'll try not to, Prince Ramil."

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Call me Ram. It's what my friends all call me."

"In that case, I'm Tashi." She paused. "But that's not what my friends call me back home."

"What do they call you?"

"The Princess Taoshira, Fourth Crown Princess of the Blue Crescent Islands and dependent

territories. We're very formal, you know."

Ramil smiled. "I've noticed. And I also think, Princess Taoshira of the rest of it, that you are

making a joke."

Tashi nodded, her face wrinkling into an answering

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smile. "But you can call me Tashi. It's my family name. I don't feel very much like the Princess

Taoshira right now."

"Thank you, Tashi." Ramil dug in his pocket. "Oh, and I should have given this to you when we first met. I hope it's not too late." He handed her a second paper model. Tashi took it from him, looking puzzled. "It's a horse."

She put her hand over her mouth to disguise her amusement. "And very like it is too, sir."

"It's my personal sign. It's me."

Tashi stopped laughing. "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have offended you--"

He put his finger gently to her lips. "No, no, you forget, I am not an Islander but an ignorant

boor. We do not take offense easily. Just look after it for me, will you? And remember, I'm

coming back for you."

She appreciated the sentiment but knew better than to expect so much.

"Good night, Ram," she said sadly. "And Goddess bless you."

Ramil saluted. "Farewell, Tashi. God be with you."

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Chapter 7

King Lagan's spies returned with disturbing news from Brigard. A young man answering the

Prince's description had been seen tied to a circus wagon and forced to walk miles. The same

spies had reported no sign of the Princess.

The King debated the news with his chief advisers long into the night. Could it be Ramil? Lagan

supposed he should be thankful that it sounded as if his son was alive, but how had he been

smuggled across the border and why?

Had he been betrayed by the Blue Crescent people? Had the Princess arranged for him to be

abducted and then disappeared to make it look as if she had nothing to do with it? Lagan found

his age-old distrust of the strange Westerners resurfacing. Why was his son the one being

dragged to a humiliating fate in Brigard and their Princess nowhere to be seen? She could even

now be hidden aboard one of their vessels, using this as a chance to declare war on Gerfal. After

all, you never really knew what those white-faced women were thinking.

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The next reports from his spies in Brigard added further to the alarm and confusion.

"Your Majesty," said the forest warden, kneeling before the King in the council chamber, "I have ridden far into Brigard disguised as a farmer and return with a harvest of grave news. Fergox

Spearthrower is massing his armies all along our border. Reports from Felixholt, Niril, and

Manford tell the same tale: soldiers are arriving from all over the Empire and digging in for the

winter. It is likely they mean to make an assault on us come the spring thaw."

"We have feared this for some time," said King Lagan, glancing at the stern faces of his ministers gathered around him. "And we are prepared."

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While trying to appear confident before his subjects, Lagan thought privately that his divisions,

strung out in a thin line along the Brigardian border, were unlikely to be able to withstand this

attack. If only the alliance had gone ahead, he would have a navy to defend his coasts and troops

to spare for the border where the blow would fall first. But now, he had to prepare for an attack

from the sea as well as by land.

"And, Sire, I bring other news," the warden continued, looking uncomfortable.

"Is it of my son?" Lagan asked eagerly, sitting forward.

"Yes, Sire. A merchant friendly to us in Felixholt told me that his royal highness had been seen.

He is a guest of Fergox himself in the citadel."

"A prisoner, you mean?"

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"My informant was not certain. He only knew that Prince Ramil had been present at the testing