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With deliberate slowness； Aelis moved her horse forward。 When she was beside Ariane she stopped and said； very clearly； 〃Be gallant； bright one； they will not； they dare not do you any harm。 With Rian's grace I shall see you very soon。〃
She moved on； still slowly； sitting her horse with head high and shoulders straight as befitted her father's daughter。 The leader paid her no attention； he had already wheeled his mount and had begun to ride； not even glancing back。 The wounded man fell in behind Aelis。 The three of them went forward in a soft jingling of harness； passing under the Arch of the Ancients； through the cold shadow of it； and then out into sunlight again on the other side。
They rode through the young grasses； travelling almost due north。 Behind them the shoreline of Lake Dierne fell away； curving to the east。 On their left Urté's vineyards stretched into the distance。 Ahead of them was the forest。 Aelis kept her silence and neither of the masked men spoke。 As they approached the outlying pines and balsams of the wood Aelis saw a charcoal…burner's cottage lying just off the lightly worn path。 The door was open。 There was no one in sight； nor were there any sounds in the morning light save their horses and the calling of birds。
The leader stopped。 He had not even looked at her since they had begun to ride； nor did he now。 〃Valery；〃 he said； scanning the edges of the forest to either side； 〃keep watch for the next while； but find Garnoth first…he won't be far away…and have him clean and bind your shoulder。 There's water in the stream。〃
〃There is usually water in a stream；〃 the wounded man said in a deep voice； his tone unexpectedly tart。 The leader laughed； the sound carried in the stillness。
〃You have no one to blame for that wound but yourself；〃 he said； 〃don't take your grievances out on me。〃 He swung down from his horse； and then he looked at Aelis for the first time。 He motioned for her to dismount。 Slowly she did。 With an elaborately graceful gesture…almost a parody given where they were…he indicated the entrance to the cottage。
Aelis looked around。 They were quite alone； a long way from where anyone might chance to pass。 The man Valery； masked in fur like a grey wolf； was already turning away to find Garnoth； whoever that was…probably the charcoal…burner。 Her arrow was still in his shoulder。
She walked forward and entered the hut。 The outlaw leader followed and closed the door behind him。 It shut with a loud click of the latch。 There were windows on either side； open so that the breeze could enter。 Aelis walked to the centre of the small； sparsely furnished room； noting that it had been recently swept clean。 She turned around。
Bertran de Talair； the younger son； the troubadour； removed the falcon mask he wore。
〃By all the holy names of Rian；〃 he said； 〃I have never known a woman like you in my life。 Aelis； you were magnificent。〃
With some difficulty she kept her expression stern； despite what seeing his face again； the flash of his quick； remembered smile； was suddenly doing to her。 She forced herself to gaze coolly into the unnerving clarity of his blue eyes。 She was not a kitchen girl； not a tavern wench in Tavernel； to swoon into his arms。
〃Your man is badly wounded；〃 she said sharply。 〃I might have killed him。 I sent specific word with Brette that I was going to shoot an arrow when you stopped us。 That you should tell your men to wear chain mail under their clothing。〃
〃And I told them；〃 said Bertran de Talair with an easy shrug。 He moved towards the table； discarding his mask； and Aelis saw belatedly that there was wine waiting for them。 It was being more difficult by the moment； but she continued to fight the impulse to smile back at him； or even to laugh aloud。
〃I did tell them； truly；〃 Bertran repeated； attending to the wine bottle。 〃Valery chose not to。 He doesn't like armour。 Says it impedes his movement。 He'll never make a proper coran； my cousin Valery。〃 He shook his head in mock sorrow and then glanced over his shoulder at her again。 〃Green bees you； as the leaves； the trees。 I cannot believe you are here with me。〃
She seemed to be smiling； after all。 She struggled to keep control of the subject though； there was a real issue here。 She could easily have killed the man； Valery。 〃But you chose not to tell him why he ought to protect himself； correct？ You didn't tell him I planned to shoot。 Even though you knew he would be the one standing beside you。〃
Smoothly he opened the bottle。 He grinned at her。 〃Correct and correct。 Why are all the de Barbentain so unfairly clever？ It makes it terribly difficult for the rest of us； you know。 I thought it might be a lesson for him…Valery should know by now that he ought to listen when I make a suggestion； and not ask for reasons。〃
〃I might have killed him；〃 Aelis said again。
Bertran was pouring the wine into two goblets。 Silver and machial； she saw； not remotely belonging in a cabin such as this。 She wondered what the charcoal…burner was being paid。 The goblets were each worth more than the man would earn in his whole life。
Bertran came towards her； offering wine。 〃I trusted your aim；〃 he said simply。 The simple brown jacket and leggings became him； accenting his burnished outdoor colour and the bronze of his hair。 The eyes were genuinely extraordinary； most of the lineage of Talair had those eyes。 In the women； that shade of blue had broken hearts in Arbonne and beyond for generations。 In the men too； Aelis supposed。
She made no motion towards the extended goblet。 Not yet。 She was the daughter of Guibor de Barbentain； count of Arbonne； ruler of this land。
〃You trusted your cousin's life to my aim？〃 she asked。 〃Your own？ An irrational trust； surely？ I might have wounded you as easily as he。〃
His expression changed。 〃You did wound me； Aelis。 At the midwinter feast。 I fear it is a wound that will be with me all my life。〃 There was a gravity to his tone； sharply at odds with what had gone before。 〃Are you truly displeased with me？ Do you not know the power you have in this room？〃 The blue eyes were guileless； clear as a child's； resting on her own。 The words and the voice were balm and music to her parched soul。
She took the wine。 Their fingers touched as she did。 He made no other movement towards her though。 She sipped and he did the same； not speaking。 It was Talair wine； of course； from his family's vineyards on the eastern shores of the lake。
She smiled finally； releasing him from interrogation for the moment。 She sank down onto the one bench the cottage offered。 He took a small wooden stool； leaning forward towards her； his long； musician's fingers holding the goblet in two hands。 There was a bed by the far wall； she had been acutely aware of that from the moment she'd walked in； and equally aware that the charcoal…burner was unlikely to have had a proper bed for himself in this cottage。
Urté de Miraval would be a long way west by now in his favourite woods； lathering his horses and dogs in pursuit of a boar or a stag。 The sunlight fell slantwise through the eastern window； laying a benison of light across the bed。 She saw Bertran's gla