"Is it possible to pass a message to my people and to King Lagan to tell them we are safe?"
"There are Brigardian exiles in Falburg who keep me informed of court gossip," Nerul explained.
"We have a number of ways of communicating but in winter most news comes via the fishing
fleet as the mountain passes are closed. You can certainly send a message that way."
"And could we return by sea?" Ramil asked eagerly.
Nerul shook his head. "Your chances of success are slight. The Pirate Fleet searches every vessel and is being
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very thorough since your escape. Coded messages may pass where people cannot."
"Pehaps Prince Ramil might be able to hide himself amongst a crew?"
suggested Merl. "But I'm afraid the Princess would stand out--there are no women on board
those boats."
Ramil was not going to let the Brigardian noble separate him from Tashi so easily.
"I gave my word to the Princess that we would escape together so I will not abandon her in
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Brigard. If I did this, her people would probably declare war--
and rightly so--as Gerfal is to blame for allowing her to be abducted in the first place. No, if we
travel to Gerfal, we go together. But not by sea, it would seem."
"Not by sea," echoed Nerul. "But there is still much that can be done as we wait for word from your father. Fergox will not sit still while the snow falls.
This is the time of preparation before he unleashes his forces. We should make that interval as
difficult for him as possible."
"Upset Fergox?" Ramil lay back on his cushion and grinned. "I like the sound of that. Count me in."
Tashi felt at ease in the tent room that had been given over to her. For the first time in Brigard
she was in a space both comfortable and simple. Her bed was a canvas stretched over poles,
warm and soft with ample cushions and sweet-smelling blankets. Hangings woven with golden
flax and marsh flowers decorated
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the walls, making the chamber feel as if it belonged to this landscape, a hidden corner of the
Fens. More dresses had been found for her and a fur-lined cloak, but best of all a pair of snug-
fitting leather shoes.
Left alone to perform her rituals in the privacy of her room, she found new peace in saying the
prayers. In prison, the rituals had become a distressing process which she forced herself to
complete out of duty. Then had come the dark days of doubt, when every word felt like a curse
upon her. Now trusting, as Ramil had suggested, that the Goddess's way still lay before her even
if it was leading her down strange paths, she relaxed and lingered in the beauty and tranquillity
of the ancient liturgy. She began to see new depths to the movements, understanding that the
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gestures were not just punctuations to the speech but prayers themselves, like a symbolic
dance.
Sitting back after having completed the morning ritual, Tashi dwelt upon the lessons she was
learning. Her experience of faith had not been so pure or simple since her hillside prayers as a
child.
This must be good, she thought, this must be what the Goddess is teaching me. Remembering
how she had fretted in the palace on Rama, burdened with the demands of her office, she could
see herself far more clearly now that it had been taken away from her. She had tried so hard,
too hard, to be what others expected her to be, that she had forgotten that the only one she had
to please was the Goddess. And one thing Tashi now knew was that the Goddess did not care for
the ritual
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but what was inside the heart of the believer who performed it.
"Thank you for the lesson, Mother," Tashi murmured, "but did you have to go to such extremes to teach me?"
No answer--but it was not an empty, angry silence like before in Fergox's prison. Nature
continued calmly on its business outside, the reeds rustling, the wind whispering, and children
laughing in the distance.
"I suppose that means that you had your reasons, Mother." Tashi concluded her prayer time by putting her palms together, then pushing them out and dropping her hands to her knees. She
bowed low so that her forehead touched the rug. Opening her eyes, she found that she had not
been so private as she thought. During her meditation, someone had placed a sprig of winter
greenery on her pillow. Threaded through it was a thin gold chain with a tiny key on the end.
Having seen this around the camp on flags and uniforms, Tashi guessed this was the ac
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Mollinder family symbol.
So was it a gift, or part of her disguise--perhaps both? Tashi stood before her mirror and
fastened it around her neck. The chain was long, the charm disappearing down the front of her
dress, resting on her breastbone.
Leaving her chamber in search of breakfast, Tashi found Merl waiting for her at the table. His
eyes fell on the necklace and he gave a smile, making no comment.
"Now, fair cousin," Meri said when she had finished eating, "wouid you like me to show you the delights of our camp? That should occupy, oh, half an hour of your time."
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"Thank you. I would like that. But I would also like to make myself useful. Is there any task I can do?"
Merl gave her his most brilliant smile. "I would like nothing better than to have you beside me
as a helpmate. Indeed, I have much tedious work for the pen and you would free up a man for
fighting if you would do this."
"Then that is settled. I wil help you with your intelligence work."
"And now, for your tour of our little dukedom."
Merl proved to be an entertaining and informative guide. He showed her the armory and the
forge where the smiths were hard at work, bare-chested in the freezing weather, hammering
new blades and shoeing the resistance's horses. They stopped in the communal kitchens--tables
under a pavilion and open-air stoves-- to taste the bread offered by an apple-cheeked cook. At
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the school for the camp children, Professor Norling stood at the blackboard in front of the oldest
pupils. Their math lesson was most unconventional as he had them working out the amount of
explosive required to take out the supports of a local bridge.
"An interesting topic," Tashi remarked in a low voice.
"You should see the practical," Merl commented dryly as he led her away.
The last area he took her to was the stables. Outside, the fighters were honing their skills in
armed and unarmed combat. Again Tashi was
impressed to see women among the fighters. Her own army comprised half men
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and half women, but she had thought the Easterners did not allow their females into battle. She
expressed this view to Merl.
He laughed. "That is true in normal times, but we are not a conventional army. Our women
number among our best and most effective agents, getting into the houses of some of our key
targets."
"You use them as assassins?" Tashi watched enviously as one dark-haired girl not much older
than she was floored a man twice her size.
"Yes. They can also cause havoc in markets and barrack cookhouses, places where it is harder for
a man to go unnoticed. And as messengers they are invaluable."
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Tashi spotted Ramil among the men practicing with swords. He glanced once in their direction