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Heavy with burdens； of past and future both； Blaise suddenly stopped and stood very still。 A child had cried out in a room behind him。 He listened but there was no other sound。 A cry in a dream that must have been。 Cadar's。
Did new…born infants dream？ Blaise didn't know。 He only knew that he could not turn back； could not now； if ever； ask Rosala the question in his heart。 It doesn't matter； he told himself。 It makes no difference at all to anything。
A lie； of course； but the sort of lie that lets one carry on。
By the time she reached the top of the stairway and saw the guards outside the door； Lisseut was already regretting she had e。 She had no business here； no claim to this man's attention； especially so late at night after he had been seriously wounded in bat。 She didn't even know exactly what she wanted to do； or say； if he should happen to be still awake； and should happen to receive her。 Someday； she thought despairingly； she really was going to have to absorb her mother's so…often…repeated lesson and accept that one did not always have to follow the path lit by impulse and first reactions。
More than anything else； she knew； it had been the news from Aubry that had drawn her here。 It hadn't taken long for the tidings to sweep downstairs through Barbentain and race along the great hall； where those joglars and troubadours honoured with places in the morning's pavilion were offering their performances after dinner。
The music had stopped； of course。 One did not sing liensennes of courtly； unrequited love or ribaldries of enthusiastically answered passion in the forests of Arbonne when news came of a village destroyed and women burned alive by the king of Gorhaut。 Love had no place in the scheme of things in the wake of such horror。
But if that were the case； what； in truth； was she doing here； hesitantly approaching a doorway on this upper level of Barbentain？ Alain had agreed to wait a little while for her downstairs。 She didn't much want to walk back to the inn alone。 An old man had been murdered in an alley a few nights ago。 There were too many unknown people from too many countries wandering in the darkness of Lussan during the fair。 She hadn't had the courage to ask Aurelian to wait…he knew too much； after this morning。 It was the first time Lisseut could remember that she'd wanted to hold something back from him。 Alain was easier； they had their understandings after two seasons together now。 He wouldn't even speculate。
The horror of the tidings from Aubry had drawn her back； in a single dark leap of memory； to that garden in Tavernel last summer； when she had listened from a place of hiding on the wall and learned who the bearded northern coran was； and heard him speak with Rudel Correze of war ing with Gorhaut。 Now everyone knew who he was； since this morning； and war was no longer ing； it was upon them。 And the coran she had impulsively followed that Midsummer night had claimed Gorhaut's crown today。
On that thought she almost did turn back； but she had reached a place where the wall torches lit the corridor； and she realized that the guards outside his door were watching her。 One of them she knew； a coran from Vezét； from a farm not far from her father's。 She wasn't sure whether she was happy about that or not。
Having been seen； though； and almost certainly recognized； she was not about to turn and skulk away。 Grateful that she looked presentable； at least； in her newest tunic bought for the fair and the vest Ariane had given her； and aware that if the guards knew her they would almost certainly also know she'd been among the selected performers tonight； Lisseut walked forward with her head high。
〃Hello； Fabrise；〃 she said to the man she knew。 〃I didn't realize you were in Barbentain。 Is your father well？〃
He grimaced briefly in response。 〃He is； I thank you。 Will you tell us what you are doing here？〃 Formal； extremely formal。 No warmth at all。 They had clearly been instructed that guard duty tonight outside this door was not ceremonial。 After Blaise's declaration this morning it stood to reason； and after the attack on Aubry tonight every coran in Arbonne would be on edge。 Again； Lisseut wondered why she had never listened to her mother more attentively。
She said hardily； 〃I thought if Blaise de Garsenc was awake he might be willing to speak with me。〃 There was no reply at all to that。 〃We are friends；〃 she added…it was almost true； in a manner of speaking…〃and I wanted to see how he was。 Is he sleeping？〃
For a long moment four grim corans regarded her in silence。 Finally one of them； evidently concluding that whatever she was； it was something other than an immediate danger； made a wry face。 〃What is it；〃 he said； addressing Fabrise； 〃about your women from Vezét； will you tell me？〃
Fabrise frowned。 Lisseut felt herself flushing。 This was pretty much what she'd feared would happen。 Oh； mother； she thought。 It had actually occurred to her several times during the day that it might be a good time for a visit home。 She could sleep in her old bed； see people she'd grown up with； talk with her mother while they did the endless needlework in the doorway； or with her father； walking among the olive groves。 It might be a good thing to do； she'd thought。 It had been a long time since she'd been back； and home sometimes was a place where the heart could be eased。
〃I know this woman。 She is not like that；〃 said Fabrise of Vezét； her pulse quickened at his loyalty。
〃Nor is this a night；〃 she said； emboldened； unwilling as ever to have someone else fight a battle for her； even a small one； 〃when a man of Arbonne should speak any ill of the women of his country。 I will accept an apology； coran； if you offer one。〃
There was a great deal to be said for the training that regular appearances in public gave one。 She was easily able to outface the coran who had made that jest。 He lowered his head and mumbled words that did sound contrite。 He looked young； Lisseut thought。 He had probably meant no real offense； though he did have a great deal to learn。
On the other hand； what innocuous reason could she offer for being here？ Truth was； the young coran was right； if not about the women of Vezét； then rather definitely about this particular one。 We are friends； she had said。 If a friendship could be built on a night's clandestine spying like an audrade on a garden wall followed by a rejected invitation to share her Midsummer bed。 He had smiled at her two nights ago here in Barbentain。 Did that count？ She had even thought he was about to e over to her； before Rudel Correze had appeared at his elbow and the two men had walked away。
That had been before this morning's challenge； though： before everything had changed。 These corans in the hallway were； she made herself repeat it again in her mind； the guards appointed for a man who had claimed a throne。
She bit her lip。 Began her retreat。 〃It is late； I know 。。。 〃 she murmured。
〃He is awake；〃 Fabrise said； 〃but not in his room。 He went to see his sister。 His brother's wife； I mean。 The one who gave birth last week。 I think he wanted to be the one to tell her the news。〃
〃He