I made a small sound of derision. “He has not the Wit. He has only his eyes to tell him that we have regained the Prince alive and unharmed. He will think only of his hero's welcome at Buckkeep. He will believe that I negotiated the Prince's freedom, and be glad to claim the credit for it at court. In fact, he will witness me doing it. Take us to where you hold him. Let us make a show for him. Send him on his way with my wolf, assuring him that the Prince and I will follow.” I nodded sagely as if confirming the thought to myself. “Actually, it is best if he is well on his way. He should not witness the woman taking over the boy. He might wonder what was amiss with him. Let Lord Golden be gone first.”

“You seem very concerned for his safety,” Laudwine probed.

I shrugged. “He pays me well to do very little. And he tolerates my wolf. We are both getting on in years. Such a post is not easily found.”

Laudwine grinned, but in his eyes I saw his secret contempt for my servant's ethic. I opened my collar more.

He glanced at Dutiful. The boy's eyes were fixed on his face. “A problem,” Laudwine observed softly. “The boy has no benefit in our bargain. He may well betray it to Lord Golden.”

I felt Dutiful draw breath to speak. I tightened my grip on him, asking for silence while I thought, but he spoke anyway. “My interest is in living,” he said clearly. "However jstÊ

poor an existence it may become. And in my cat. For she is true to me, even if your sister is false to both of us. I will not abandon the cat to her. And if she takes my body from me, then perhaps that is the price I must pay, for letting a Piebald make a fool of me with promises of fellowship. And love." His voice was steady, and pitched to carry. Beyond Laudwine's shoulder, I saw two of his riders look aside, as if Dutiful's words pained them. But no one spoke up on his behalf.

A thin smile twisted Laudwine's mouth. “Then our pact is made.” He extended his free hand toward me, as if we would seal the bargain with a touch. He smiled disarmingly at me. “Take your knife from the boy's throat.”

I gave him a wolf's smile in return. “I think not, just yet. You have said this Peladine can take him at any time? Perhaps, if she does, you will think you have no need of me. You might kill me, let your sister have the boy, and then present him to Lord Golden, the hostage freed to return to court. No. We will do it my way. Besides, this lad may change his feelings about what we do. The knife helps him remember that my will is what will be.” I wondered if Dutiful would hear my promise enfolded in those words. I kept my eyes fixed on Laudwine and did not vary my tone. “Let me'see Lord Golden remounted and set free, with my wolf at his side. Then, when I see how you keep your word, I will surrender us both to your will.”

Feeble, feeble plan. My true strategy went no further than getting them to take us to the Fool and Nighteyes. I continued to hold my smile and gaze on Laudwine but I was aware of the others edging their horses closer. My grip on the knife was steady. At some point, the Prince had reached up to grasp my wrist. I had scarcely been aware of his touch, for although it looked as if he resisted my blade, he did not. In truth, it was almost as if he held the knife steady against his own throat.

“We will do it your way,” Laudwine conceded at last.

It was an awkward business to mount Myblack while -sa, keeping my knife a threat to the Prince, but we managed it. Dutiful was almost too cooperative a victim; I feared Laudwine would see. I would have given much, just then, for the Prince to have been trained in Skilling. Our thread of joining was too fine for me to know his thoughts, nor did he know how to focus his mind toward mine. All I could sense was his anxiety and determination. Determination to do what, I could not divine. Myblack was not pleased with the doubled burden she had to carry, and my heart misgave me. Not only did I risk making her injury worse, or permanent, but if it became necessary to flee, she would already be weary and sore. Every hitch of Myblack's limp was a rebuke to me. But I had no alternatives. We rode, following Laudwine, and his companions closed in around us. They did not look well disposed toward me. I recognized a woman from our brief battle. I did not see either of the men I had fought. The Prince's former companions showed no evidence of sympathy or friendship for him now. He did not seem to see them, but rode looking forward with the point of my knife pressed high against his ribs.

We turned back and cut across the hillsides, past the barrow and toward the forest. The land we crossed hummocked oddly, and I soon decided that many years ago, a town of some sort had stood here. Meadow and woods had taken the land again, but land that has borne the plow ever after lies flatter. Moss had coated the stony walls that had once divided pastureland, and grass grew atop that, amidst the thistle and bramble that seem to love such stony places. “No one lives forever,” the walls seemed to say. “Four stones stacked atop one another will outlive all your dreams and still stand when your descendants have long forgotten that you lived here.”