"So I must sell myself to get my throne back?" She felt so hot in the face that she pushed herself back from the brazier. "I might as well marry Ludis Drakava!"
"I think you would find the Syannese prince a much more pleasant hus¬band, but let us hope there is some other way." Shaso frowned, then nod¬ded. "In fact, if you will excuse us, Highness, perhaps Effir and I can begin inquiries in Syan. Whatever we do, it should be soon."
Briony stood, angry and miserable but struggling not to show it. "I will marry to save my family's throne, of course… if it is the only way."
"I understand, Highness." Shaso looked at her with what could almost pass for fatherly fondness, if she had not known the old man to avoid it like an itching rash. "I will not sell your freedom if I can avoid it, having fought so hard in my life to keep my own."
Sad and confused, Briony had more than her usual small share of the sweet wine that Idite and the others liked so much. As a result, when she woke in the dark her head was heavy and it took long moments to make sense of where she was, much less what was going on.
One of the younger girls, wrapped head to toe in a blanket so that she looked like a desert nomad, was standing in the doorway.
"Mistress Idite, there are men at the gate, demanding to be let in!" she cried. "Your husband the Dan-Mozan, he is arguing with them, but they say they will break it down if he does not let them in!"
"By the Great Mother, who are they? Robbers?" Idite, although obvi¬ously frightened, was keeping her voice almost as level as she did during their evenings of storytelling.
The girl in the doorway swayed. "They say they are Baron Iomer's men. They say we are harboring a dangerous fugitive!"
Briony, who had just clambered out of bed, went wobbly in the knees and almost tumbled to the floor. A fugitive-who else could that be but her¬self? And Shaso, too, she remembered. He would still be called a murderer.
"Dress, girls-all of you." Idite raised her voice in an attempt to quiet the frightened murmuring. "We must be prepared for trouble, and at the very least we must be decently dressed if strangers burst in."
Briony was not so much concerned with being decent as being able to defend herself. She hesitated for only a moment before pulling on the loose tunic and breeches borrowed from Effir's nephew, then grabbed the one pair of practical shoes Idite had given her, leather slippers that would at least allow her to run or fight if she had to. She tucked her Yisti knives into the cloth belt of the tunic and then pulled her robe around herself to hide the male clothing and the knives, giving herself at least a chance to blend in with the other women.
As the sound of raised, angry voices came echoing through the house, Briony saw that Idite intended to keep the women hidden in the hopes that everything would be happily resolved without them ever having to come into contact with the baron's men. Briony was not willing to pas¬sively await her doom. The women's chambers had few exits, and if things turned bad she would be trapped like a rat in a barrel.
She pushed past young Fanu, who grabbed ineffectually at her arm as Briony stepped out into the corridor.
"Come back!" Idite shouted. "Br… Lady!"
As she ran toward the front of the hadar, Briony silently thanked Idite for having the good sense not to call out her name. The hallways were full of clamorous voices and flickering light, and for a dizzying moment it was as though she had stumbled into some eddy of time, as if she had circled back to the terrible night in the residence when Kendrick had been murdered.
She staggered a little as she reached the main chamber, stopping to steady herself on the doorframe. The smoke was thick here and the voices louder, men's harsh voices arguing. She peered into the weirdly crowded chamber and saw at least a dozen men in armor were shoving and shout¬ing at perhaps half that number of Effir dan-Mozan's robed servants, bel¬lowing at them as though they could force the men to understand an unfamiliar language by sheer force. Several robed bodies already lay on the floor at the soldiers' feet.
As Briony stared in horror, trying to see if one of them was Shaso, an armor-clad man kicked over a brazier, scattering burning coals everywhere. The barefooted servants shrieked and capered to avoid them even as they cringed from the soldiers' weapons.
"If you won't talk," shouted one bearded soldier, "we'll burn out this en¬tire nest of traitors!" He stooped and lifted a torch that had been smolder¬ing on an expensive carpet and held it to one of the wall-hangings. The servants moaned and wailed as the flames shimmered up the ancient hang¬ing and began licking at the wooden rafters.
Briony was digging beneath her robe for her knife, although she had no idea what she could do, when someone grabbed the belt of her robe and yanked her away from the door, back into the corridor.
Her heart plunged-trapped! Caught without even a weapon ready to fight back! But it was not another of the baron's soldiers.
"What are you doing?" hissed Effir's nephew Talibo. "I have looked everywhere for you! Why did you leave the women's quarters?" He grabbed at her arm before she could answer and began to drag her away down the hallway toward the back of the house.
"Let go of me! Didn't you see-they're killing the servants!"
"That is what servants are for, stupid woman!" The hall was rapidly fill¬ing with smoke; after only a few steps he doubled up coughing, but before she could pull away he recovered his breath and began tugging at her again.
"No!" She managed to wrench her arm free. "I have to find Shaso!"
"You fool, who do you think sent me?" Tal's face was so suffused with
both rage and fear that it looked as though he might burst into tears or sim-ply rip into pieces."The house is full of soldiers. He wants me to hide you,"
"Where is he?" She hesitated, but the shrieks of unarmed men being slaughtered like barnyard animals behind her were terrifying.
"He will come to you, I am sure-hurry! The soldiers must not find you!"
She allowed herself to be drawn away up the corridor. Almost as terri¬fying as the servants' screams was the low, hungry roar of the spreading lire.
She pulled away from him again as they reached the part of the residence across the garden from the main chamber. "What of your aunt and the other women?"
"The servants will lead them out! Curse you, girl, do you never do what you are told? Shaso is waiting for you!" He stepped behind her and grabbed both her elbows, shoving her forward at an awkward stumble, another dozen steps down the corridor and then out a door into the open yard at the back of the house, site of the donkey stables, the vegetable garden, and the kitchen midden. He pushed her toward the stable and had almost forced her through the doorway when she threw out her arms and caught herself. She stepped to the side so the front wall and not the open door was behind her, and put her hand into her robe.
"What are you doing?" Talibo was almost screaming, his handsome, slightly childish face as exaggerated as a festival mask. Briony could see flames now on top of the house, greedily at work in the roof. On the far side of Effir dan-Mozan's walls, torches and lanterns were being lit in the surrounding houses as the neighborhood woke up to the terror in their midst.
"You said Shaso was waiting for me. But first you said he would come to meet me. Where is he? I think you are lying."
He looked at her with a strange, wounded fury, as though she had gone out of her way to spoil some pleasant surprise he had planned for her. "Ah? Do you think so?"
"Yes, I do. I think…" But she did not finish because Talibo put both hands on her breasts and shoved her, bouncing her off the wall and into the doorway, then pushed her again, sending her stumbling backward to fall down in the mire of the stable.