A hunt was ahe night after the royal train arrived at Bzing Prairie, but not like the noblemen’s huian had joined before. Lord cio didn’t ride, and apparently, he didn’t use dyrehouher.

  “We don’t keep them oate. amesmen will beat the bushes to rustle something up.”

  The lord seemed made of easy, inoffensive expnations. No accusations of barbarism, though he must have some opinions on the subject, since he’d been raised by the man who had lobbied to abolish the pit houses and free the dyre.

  In the short time siheir arrival, Etian was already sick of cio’s ck of attack or retreat. If he wao defy the king like his father had, then he should. If he wao lick the king’s boots, then by the strong gods, why didn’t he just get down on his hands and knees and do it already?

  For the huian had been loaned a high-headed mahogany stallion from one of the Agata’s hunting lines, and he was eager to let the beast run. More than that, however, he wao fore sort of definitive statement from Lord cio.

  So, he rode at a sedate pace alongside cio’s strange hunting buggy. The traption was simir to a rag trap, barely wider tharotting horse that pulled it, with only the seat, footboard, and traces required to drive, no spare leather or wood that could get tangled in forested areas.

  oticed Etian studying the lines of the buggy.

  “I had my stablemaster design it.” The lord smiled. “One must make certain cessions if one is crippled and wants to keep up with his peers.”

  “Depends on how one defines keeping up,” Etian said. The majority of the hunting party had moved ahead, following the gamesmen as they beat the golden stands of tall grass and bramble patches.

  Excited shouting. Both men ed their necks and cio stretched up in his seat to see over the swell in the nd. A hail of arrows flickered across the night sky, most of them missing the esg pheasant.

  Etian nocked an arrow and drew. The b twanged. His arrow was the only one in the flight that hit the bird. Immediately, a handful arts in the main body of the hunting party began good-natured arguments about whie of them had killed it.

  cio gave a low whistle. “Impressive. With the crosswind, too.”

  The stallion sidled restively, bumping the bow agaiian’s gsses. Etian brought his mount bader trol and corrected the sliding lenses.

  “I checked your birth records before I left Siu Rial,” the prince said. “We’re both Josean-blessed. Let’s dispeh the pleasahe rest of them observe.”

  cio chuckled. “Fair enough, but without the pleasantries, what do we have to say to one another?”

  “Start with why you wao join House Mattius and House Agata.”

  “That’s an easy one. House Agata’s been stealing stock from the horse nomads across border for years. I was going to stop them.”

  “You didn’t want them for access to ore veins you’ve found stretg onto their nd?”

  “That, too. As the old swordmaster wrote, ‘ake a step without at least two reasons.’”

  “Except to block a deathblow,” Etian tered. “Are your mines depleted?”

  “Not yet, but a smart man would have a tingen pce, don’t you think?”

  “A tingency that disappeared yesterday on the carriage ride.”

  cied. “I’ll e up with another.”

  “What does it matter to you if the Agatas steal stock from the nomads?” Etian asked. “They aren’t Children of Night.”

  “House Agata isn’t just taking horseflesh. They ehe men to work their herds and train their beasts, and they keep the women and children as insurance. If a man displeases them somehow—say, demanding enough to eat etting too sick to work—they chop off his wife’s or child’s arm.” The lord shot the prince a sful grin. “It’s very effective, but short-sighted. What will they do with a geion of armless young men?”

  “A smarter man would have saved the boys from dismemberment, focused it on the women and girls. But that isn’t why you care, either, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t,” cio agreed. “They could more easily buy horses from the nomads, then turn around ahem for double what they paid. They’re bleeding gold for housing and food—such as they see fit to provide for their sves, anyway.”

  Etian caught the thrust of his bde that time. “Horade with the nomads. Because that’s what a good man would do.”

  “It wouldn’t even take a good one, just o wholly evil.”

  This was sounding very simir to Izakiel whe drunk and waue. No wohat sful smile had seemed so familiar. Imagine a Josean-blessed Izakiel. The blood magic tutors would have died with joy.

  Aian would only have seehrone from behind while he guarded it.

  To get a better measure on the maian ged tempo.

  “My sister is less than half ye.”

  “I’ve known older men who married younger girls.”

  “Your mother was a child bride.”

  “So was yours.” The lordling studied the distant hunting party. “Yhness is sixteen now? You’re a year older than the former Queen Isia ever got.” irked sidelong at Etian. “You see, you’re not the only one who studies his oppos before they step onto the battlefield.”

  “You would have beeer served to study my father. Then you would have seen his revetion about your marriage request ing.”

  bsp;hmmed thoughtfully. “I’ve studied the king, but I have yet to stumble upon a reason he would his daughter to a man who might never produ heir healthy enough to live past childhood. Any insight you’d care to share?”

  “The ck of an heir would prevent any flicts over succession.”

  “Which we both already know is too simple an answer. If a Josean-blessed swordsman only takes a step when he has at least two reasons, then ara-blessed king won’t do it for less than five.”

  “To watch the House Mattius line die out, theian suggested. “The absorbs the mines and other assets, theablishes a more tractable lord to mahe nd and peasants. Or do away with that altogether, set up a wardehe mines, and start sending prisoo work them.”

  “At best, we’re up to four reasons.”

  No, they were up to four guesses, and likely those were all just bes o what Hazerial was truly after. They could specute all night and only dance around the truth.

  “It’s not the bde you see ing that kills you,” uttered. He araphrasing the old swordsmaster’s writings again, but that was more or less what Etian had been thinking.

  Ahead, the gamesme off, crashing through the brush with their beating sticks, the hunting party following along.

  Etian he stallion into motion. With a tap of the reins, the trotter pulled the lord’s buggy alongside.

  They had been looking at the matter as if it were a battlefield map, Josean’s blessing leading them to think in terms of resources and terrain and manpower. What value would Eketra see in this maneuver? Knowledge, trol, and dominion were her currencies.

  Etian cast a gnce over at cio as he maneuvered his buggy around a tangle of brambles. The answer might have more to do with the Lord of the ternds than it did with the ternds themselves.

  “There wasn’t aion of y in the records,” Etian said.

  “Distinctive gait, isn’t it?” cio raised his voice a little to be heard over the rustling of the wheels iall grass. “At the risk of sounding like a has-been who ’t let go of past perceived glories, I made quite the fencer before I happened upon it. I doubt I would have been anythio the sed ing of Josean,” he said, tipping his head in aowledgement of the present pany, “but I trained with my father’s Thorns and mao best them from time to time. It was one of them who gave me this souvenir. Hamstruhe night of the massacre. The leg healed like a stone pilr.”

  Etian didn’t bother to keep the skepticism from his expression. A Thorn couldn’t harm a member of his master’s bloodline; his grafting wouldn’t allow it. Except in two potential cases.

  “It’s on knowledge that you assisted the Royal Thorns the night of your father’s arrest. Are you implying that you actually raised your bde against him?”

  iled. “Is that too much of a stretch for your imagination?”

  “Not if you wao appear loyal to the king. Your father’s Thorn might have inflicted the injury to make your cim more credible, thereby proteg you and fulfilling his grafting.”

  “I cede the possibility, but that isn’t what happened.” cio shoved the boot of his w leg against the footboard to push himself bato the buggy’s narrow seat. “I agree with my father’s policies on ending brutality to the nomads, abolishing dyre sport, and ending the bloodsve trade. What I disagreed with were my father’s methods. After decades spent arguing himself blue in the face, he gave up trying to ge the ws. Decided a coup was the solution. A coup he would put it into a by stealing three young men and magically ensving them to himself.”

  “If yoing to vilify being a Thorn, you’ve chosen the wrong audience.” Etian guided the stallion around a hole where the head of a stream had cut a muddy opening in the waves of tall grass only to disappear beh the ground again a few feet ter. “If not for a st-minute ge of pns from the strong gods, I would be preparing to be grafted to my brht now. I gdly would have died for him. I still would.”

  “Trust me when I say I uand the se. If I could’ve saved my sister, I would have do in a heartbeat.” cio watched the gamesmen chopping at a small stand rant sumac. “I won’t argue about your entions. Duty is a high calling. All I’ll say is I don’t agree with any man being born in s to another man, no matter how our a aors did it. We all ought to be our own masters, as Khi was.”

  “None of that expins why you would turn on your father.”

  “He set aside his vis, believing that the ends would justify his means. I believe the means should be judged even more harshly than the ends, because in them our true nature is revealed. As the old swordmaster wrote, ‘What good is it if I win the war but lose my soul?’”

  “‘Victory at all costs is the ultimate defeat,’” Etian supplied the rest of the proverb.

  “A is ohing no Josean-blessed warrior stomach,” cio said. “Better to be a crippled and idealistihan a hale and jaded loser, wouldn’t you say?”

  Etian didn’t get a ce to answer. A bevy of quail burst out of the red-tinged sumac leaves and took wing.

  The crippled lord let the reins drop across his stiffened leg. In one practiced motion, he drew his longbow and shot.

  A cry of exciteme up as a pair of fowl tumbled from the sky, piogether by a single arrow.