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ny things to deal with just now。 She was extremely tired。
She looked up at the countess。 〃I am a very great burden for you。 I know this is true。 I could see no other choices； though； for the child。 Thank you for allowing me here。 Thank you for accepting Guardianship。 Will you do one more thing？ Will you ask the duke of Talair to stand up with you for my son this morning before Corannos and Rian and against all those who would do him harm in the world？〃
In the end； Roban the chancellor went himself with two of the corans of his own household to find En Bertran de Talair。 The duke was not in his own bed。 but the chancellor persevered and found him soon enough； though not； unfortunately； alone。 A mildly embarrassing incident ensued； but not one of sufficient importance to affect Roban's mission。
They rode back across the lowered bridge to the castle on its island just as the sun was rising beyond the river； sending light； finally； like a blessing into the room where Rosala lay。 Bertran de Talair entered that room with the morning brightness； wearing his habitual amusement like a cloak； sardonic laughter barely hidden in his eyes。 He looked at the countess first； and then to where the woman lay； and lastly he looked down； without speaking upon the cradle at the foot of the bed and saw the sleeping child。
After a long time during which his expression could slowly be seen to change； he looked back at the mother lying in the bed。 The priestess of Rian had washed her and dressed her in a blue silk robe； and had helped her with her hair。 It lay； long and golden in the mild sunlight； bed out upon the pillow and over the coverlet。 Her eyes were as blue as his own。
〃My congratulations；〃 he said formally。 〃You have a handsome son。 I wish him good fortune all his life。〃
She was registering everything she could： the light； clear voice； the scar； the mutilated ear； the way his expressive face had altered when he allowed the irony to recede。
〃Galbert de Garsenc； High Elder of Corannos in Gorhaut； would take this child from me；〃 she said； without preamble or pleasantry。 Her voice was carefully measured； she had prepared these words while they waited for him to e。 It was bald； graceless； but she was too weary to do this eloquently； she could barely manage to say what needed to be said。
〃So I have been informed；〃 he replied gravely。 〃I am afraid； under those circumstances； that accepting Guardianship for my child will be more than ceremonial。〃
〃Under the circumstances； I believe that to be so。〃
〃Will you take this upon yourself？〃 she asked。
〃Yes；〃 he replied calmly。 And then； after a pause； 〃I will die myself before you lose this child to him。〃
Her colour rose sharply； he saw； and her breathing quickened； as if released from a rigid effort of control。 〃Thank you；〃 she whispered。 There were tears now…for the first time all night； though he could not know that。 She turned her head and looked at the countess。 〃Thank you both。 This makes him as safe as the world will let him be。 I think I can rest now。〃
They saw her close her eyes。 She was asleep almost as soon as she finished speaking。 Standing on either side of the bed Bertran and the countess exchanged a long glance。 Neither spoke for several moments。
Finally the duke grinned； Signe had been more or less expecting that； it was almost a relief when it came； a breaking of the heavy spell of this night。
〃You did this；〃 he said； 〃not I。 Never reproach me。〃
〃I did not think you would refuse a child；〃 she said quietly。 〃There will be no reproach。 We must be what we are； or we bee our enemies。〃 It was morning； she hadn't slept all night。 She didn't feel tired though； not any more。 She walked to the eastern window and looked out over the island and the river and the red and golden autumn colours of her land。
In the doorway； Roban the chancellor heard those words exchanged and watched his countess move to stand at the window。 She looked terribly small and fragile there； beautiful as ivory。 He remained silent； smoothing down the front of his shirt again； unnecessarily。 He was contemplating not only the nobility of the sentiments just expressed but the rapidly growing likelihood that they would all be conquered and dead by the summer of the year to e。
The taverns of Lussan were thronged at the time of the fair； and there were a great many of them。 It was； therefore； only sheerest bad luck that led Othon the animal…trainer into The Arch late that night after he'd already visited three other inns and had menced his enjoyment of the Lussan Fair in typically liquid fashion。 Rendered even more garrulous than usual； Othon was holding forth at a table of sundry reunited performers； describing the unusual travelling panion he'd had in his wagon。 For a man known to travel with a snake and monkeys to characterize any panion as unusual was sufficiently droll to earn him more attention than customary。
〃Yellow…haired and blue…eyed； she was；〃 Othon declared； 〃and very likely a beauty； though it was hard to see given her 。。。 condition； if you take my meaning。〃 He paused。 Someone obligingly refilled his glass。 〃Not many women look their best when about to drop a babe； in my experience。 〃
Someone made a lewd remark linking Othon's experience to his monkeys。 Amid the laughter the animal…trainer drank again and then went on； with the placid tenacity of a storyteller used to holding the floor against difficult odds。 He did not notice the three men at the next table who had stopped their own conversation to listen to what he was saying。
〃She tried to pretend she was a farmer's wife or some such； a smith； a carter； but it was easy enough to see she was no such thing at all。 I've been in enough castles in my time to recognize nobility； if you know what I mean。〃 The wit at his table attempted another jest； but Othon's voice rode over him this time。 〃We left her at the goddess's temple here； and it is my personal wager that some lord of Gorhaut'll have a babe by now through the aid of the priestesses of Rian…and isn't that a jest？〃
It might have been； but it was also somewhat near to the bone that autumn season。 Everyone knew how tense affairs had bee between Gorhaut and Arbonne； and no one wanted to be the first or the most obvious to laugh in a tavern filled with unfamiliar men from many countries。 Disappointed； Othon subsided into silence for a few moments； before beginning； with impressive optimism； a new； discursive account of his last visit to Barbentain。 He had lost his audience by then； though； and was largely talking to himself。
The three men at the next table had not only stopped listening； they had settled their account and left The Arch。 In the street outside； expensively lit by lanterns during the fair season； the three corans； who happened to be from Gorhaut； and more particularly from Garsenc Castle； had a hurried； highly agitated consultation among each other。
At first they considered drawing straws to see which of them would ride back to Garsenc with what they thought they'd learned。 It could be done in two days if a man killed horses under him。 A moment's further deliberation induced t