At the Queen_s command

From the other side, the refusal to shake hands was a confirmation of hostility and duplicity. The Twilight People clearly could not be trusted-which is why it would be so easy for people to believe fanciful stories about raids and atrocities. And when it became known that the Twilight People could work magick, they became an even more potent threat.

Owen smiled in spite of himself. These are insights I need to record.

The Prince wrung his shirt out, then slung it over his shoulder. "I have instructed the staff to lay out dinner on the lawn. Such a lovely day. And I've done away with tables and chairs. You'll be out there roughing it days on end. This is my only chance to share your adventure."

The four of them retired up the lawn to a level spot that provided a wonderful view of the river, the mountains beyond, and the wurmrest. Servants had laid out several blankets and centered baskets with bread, cheese, and braised chicken parts. Wooden plates had been stacked next to four pewter cups and a bottle of wine.

The Prince unceremoniously plunked himself down. "Captain, I insist you remove your jacket and boots. Your waistcoat, too. I want you to feel comfortable as we eat."

"As you command, Highness." Owen shrugged off his pack, then removed his coat and folded it. He set the waistcoat on top, then pulled his boots off. His stockings showed a spot of blood at the heels.

The Prince shook his head. "Blisters, that won't do. I will package some salve of bear grease and a couple herbs. It will ease the pain and toughen up your skin."

"You are most kind, Highness." Owen sighed. "I lost the calluses on the crossing."

"Not the first." The Prince doled out plates, then poured three cups of wine. Kamiskwa took the fourth cup and poured water from a canteen into it.

"Are the Altashee not allowed to drink?"

Kamiskwa smiled. "I simply choose not to."

Owen's mouth hung open. "You speak our language?"

The native nodded.

"But you didn't say anything…"

"You two used up all the words." Kamiskwa's smile broadened.

Kamiskwa and Woods burst into laughter.

Owen's face burned.

The Prince patted his forearm. "At least with you it was only the morning. On my first journey with them, we were four days out before I knew Prince Kamiskwa could speak our tongue."

" Prince Kamiskwa?"

"My, you have kept him in the dark, haven't you?"

Woods curbed his mirth and cleared his throat. "No harm done, Highness. We was taking his measure."

"Really, Nathaniel." The Prince arched an eyebrow. "I should have thought you had that the night he flattened those Branches."

"Well, this is true, Highness."

"And the fact that Caleb Frost, despite his best intentions, can only criticize Captain Strake by saying he has a lot to learn about Mystria."

"Yes, Highness."

The Prince held up a hand. "I am serious, Nathaniel. You have to understand that this man is unlike the others sent out here. He is a serious soldier. His reports will shape policy for dealing with the Tharyngians. Mystria's future will depend upon his success or failure."

Woods' expression sobered. "I understand, Highness. Captain, please accept my apologies for any behavior you found offensive."

"No need for apologies." Owen looked at the Prince. "There is something else, isn't there, Highness?"

The Prince sighed. "There might be. A fast packet-boat came into Temperance the day after the incident with Colonel Langford. A messenger brought me some coded messages. Do you know the name Guy du Malphias?"

Owen's stomach knotted instantly. "Yes, Highness."

Nathaniel frowned. "Who would that be now?"

"He led the Platine Guards at Artennes Forest." Owen shook his head. "He's the devil incarnate."

"He's worse." Prince Vlad's eyes tightened. "Two months ago a small Ryngian flotilla slipped past the Channel fleet during a gale. They were bound for Mystria and had du Malphias aboard. He's been in New Tharyngia for at least two weeks. Whatever you find out there, he'll be up to his elbows in it."

Chapter Fifteen

May 2, 1763

Prince Haven

Temperance Bay, Mystria

O wen's appetite completely vanished. He'd seen du Malphias only once, and that through a telescope during a driving rain. The Tharyngian had been more of a silhouette, really, high on a ridgeline, astride a horse. In profile his aquiline nose stood out and his goatee added a sharp point to his chin. Then he turned to look toward Owen, and the Norillian had had the unmistakable feeling the man saw him and saw through him.

It felt as if the light breeze now came out of the arctic, and even Nathaniel noticed the change. He set a half-gnawed chicken leg on his plate and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "The Devil is he?"

Prince Vlad nodded. "A brilliant man, really. A polymath-he has many interests and excels in all of them. He was the youngest man ever made a Laureate. I've read a number of his papers. I have many of them in my library. He was a very hopeful young man, but with the war, that changed."