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He hesitated； reaching for words。 Lisseut said then； knowing it was ill advised； 〃I don't know what happened in Portezza； obviously； but I am not like that。 I mean； I don't normally…〃
He put a hand over her mouth。 She felt his fingers against her lips。 〃Don't say it；〃 he murmured。 〃Leave me that much as my own。〃
He was an uncivilized northerner； she thought。 He had stabbed Remy in the arm。 Until the sun falls and the moons die； her grandfather and her father used to say； Gorhaut and Arbonne shall not lie easily beside each other。 His fingers withdrew； he withdrew back into himself； behind his own mask。 It was only the dangerous associations of Midsummer Eve； she told herself； and the disturbing intimacy of what she'd heard in that garden。 There were other men to be with； men she knew and trusted； men of talent and wit and courtesy。 They would be back at The Liensenne； in the downstairs room or upstairs with Marotte's wine and cheeses and their own harps and lutes and songs； celebrating Rian through the remaining hours of the goddess's most holy night。 It was not likely she would have to lie alone。
Unless； in the end； she wanted to。 With an unexpected sadness within her； Lisseut looked away beyond the man she was standing with； struggling to regain the diamond…bright mood of exhilaration that seemed to have slipped away from her somewhere in this strange night among the crowds and the music and the noisemakers and the one arching arrow and the words she'd heard spoken beside the splashing of a fountain。
And so it was； looking away along the crowded street； that she saw before he did the six men in crimson livery who now came up and surrounded them carrying torches； bearing swords。
Their leader bowed gracefully to Blaise of Gorhaut。 〃It would be a great courtesy；〃 he said； with perfect； grave formality； 〃if you would e with us。〃
Blaise looked quickly around； she could see him trying to take the measure of this new situation。 He looked back at Lisseut； seeking a clue or explanation in her eyes； she had known he was going to do that。 He didn't know the livery； of course。 She did。 She knew it well。 And didn't much feel； just then； like helping him。 How； she thought； surprised by her own swift anger； was a bedraggled joglar from Vezét's olive groves to pete with this sort of thing on a night of Rian？
〃I don't think；〃 she said； 〃that you are going to have your vigil with the god after all。 I wish you joy of the night and the year。〃 And took a shallow； fleeting satisfaction in the inprehension that showed in his eyes before they took him away。
One of the men in crimson escorted her back to The Liensenne。 Of course。 They were flawlessly versed in such niceties。 They had to be； she thought sourly； they were meant to be an example to all the world。
CHAPTER 7
Even when he saw the peacocks in the extravagantly lit inner courtyard of the house where they brought him； Blaise wasn't sure where he had e。 He had no sense of immediate danger from the five men escorting him； but； equally； he was under no illusion that he could have refused their courteously phrased request。
He was surprisingly weary。 He'd been more honest with the singer； the straggle…haired girl named Lisseut； than he would have expected to be； especially after what she'd done。 But if he'd been entirely truthful he would have added； at the end； that his desire for a vigil in a house of the god was at least as much for the cool silence such a solitude would afford as it was to mourn and honour Valery of Talair's passing to Corannos that night。
He had rather a great deal to think about and try to deal with just now； and wine and whatever might follow on a decadent night in Tavernel with a singer…however spirited and clever she might be…was not going to ease his heart or his mind tonight。 Things seemed to have suddenly bee difficult again。
His father had paid a quarter of a million in gold to Rudel Correze to kill the duke of Talair。
A clear message meant for all the world； and another； hidden； for his younger son alone： See what I have to work with； my errant child。 See what I deny you for refusing me。 How I strip away even your friendship。 Learn the cost of your folly。 How could you ever have dreamt of gainsaying me？
Was there any place on the surface of the earth where he might go and not be brought back； face to face as before the polished； merciless； self…revealing surface of a mirror； with Galbert； the High Elder of Corannos in Gorhaut？
And there was more； even more than that tonight。 Lucianna was married again。 Another sort of mirror that； distorting and dark： guttering candles beside a ravaged bed； the god's moon passing from a window； an eastern songbird in an ornate cage singing to break the heart…images so raw the eyes of memory flinched away。
He had e in the stillness of winter through the passes to Arbonne as to a place of haven or refuge； where he had never been before； would probably not be known； might serve in quiet anonymity whatever petty lord in whatever remote mountain fastness might offer him an adequate repense。 Where he might not ever hear her name spoken； whether in admiration or desire or contempt； or be forced to deal with all the hurting； hoarded memories from Portezza： images framed in the intricate textures of carpeting and tapestries； cushions of woven silk； vases and drinking cups of marble and alabaster； and weaving through them all； like a drifting veil of smoke； the sensuous； elusive scents he had e to know perilously well in the women's wing of the Delonghi palace in many…towered Mignano a year ago。
What is my sin； Blaise？ Rudel was like that。 A knife in the voice and in the thought behind。 Quicksilver bright； insubstantial as a moon on water sometimes； then sharp and merciless and deadly as 。。。 as an arrow dipped in syvaren。 And the sharpness in his perceptions； as much as in anything else。 A man from whom it was difficult to hide。
For the sin； the transgression； lay…and Rudel knew it； they both knew it…in his having given Blaise exactly what he wanted。 In taking a Gorhaut coran still numb with shock and anger in the aftermath of the Treaty of Iersen Bridge and drawing him away； first to Aulensburg and the ale…sodden； hunt…obsessed court of Jorg of Gotzland； and then down south by stages in fair； flowering springtime to something else； something entirely otherwise。
To the cities of Portezza and their intrigues； the delicate pleasures of subtle； wealthy men with sidelong smiles； and the infinitely versed women of those warring； brilliant city…states。 And one windswept night； with distant thunder sounding on the hills north of Mignano； there had been Lucianna Delonghi's night…black hair at the head of a banquet table； the flash of her jewellery； the equally flashing wit with unsettling traps and double meanings everywhere； the mocking laugh； and then； astonishingly； what she was afterwards； elsewhere； under the painted canopy of a bed； clad only in the dazzle of that jewellery 。。。 what happened when mockery left the laughter but the laughter remained。 That was Rudel's sin。 And so； being honest； Blaise was forced to say there was really no sin