Page 207 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

“You warned Meg about the Cupbearer. Do you know who it is?”

“No. All I had from Sigoso was that phrase.”

“At first I thought it was the Night Hawk,” Ead admitted, “but now I am all but certain that it is Igrain Crest. The twin cups are her badge.”

“Lady Igrain. But Sab loves her,” Loth said, visibly stunned. “Besides, anyone who takes the Knight of Justice as their patron wears the goblets—and the Cupbearer conspired with King Sigoso to murder Queen Rosarian. Why would Crest do such a thing?”

“I don’t know,” Ead said frankly, “but she recommended Sabran marry the Chieftain of Askrdal. Sabran chose Lievelyn instead, and then Lievelyn was killed. As for the cutthroats …”

“It wasyouwho killed them?”

“Yes,” Ead said, deep in thought, “but I have wondered if they ever meant to kill. Perhaps Crest always planned for them to be caught. Each invasion would have left Sabran more terrified. Her punishment for resisting the call of the childbed was the near-constant fear of death.”

“And the Queen Mother?”

“It has long been rumored at court that Queen Rosarian took Gian Harlowe to her bed while she was wed to Prince Wilstan,” Ead said. “Infidelity is against the teachings of the Knight of Fellowship. Perhaps Crest likes her queens to be . . . obedient.”

At this, Loth clenched his jaw.

“So you mean for us to take a stand against Crest,” he said. “To protect Sabran.”

“Yes. And then to take a stand against a far older enemy.” Ead glanced toward the mouth of the cave. “Ascalon may lie in Inys. If we can find it, we can use it to weaken the Nameless One.”

A bird called out from somewhere above their shelter. Loth passed her a saddle flask.

“Ead,” he said, “you do not believe in the Six Virtues.” He looked her in the eye. “Why risk everything for Sabran?”

She drank.

It was a question she should have asked herself a long time ago. Her feelings had come like a flower on a tree. A bud, gently forming—and just like that, an undying blossom.

“I realized,” she said, after a period of silence, “that she had been spoon-fed a story from the day she was born. She had been taught no other way to be. And yet, I saw that despite everything, some part of her was self-made. This part, small as it appeared at first, was forged in the fire of her own strength, and resisted her cage. And I understood . . . that this part was made of steel. This part was who she truly was.” She held his gaze. “She will be the queen that Inys needs in the days that are to come.”

Loth moved to sit beside her. When he touched her elbow, she looked up at him.

“I am glad we found each other again, Ead Duryan.” He paused. “Eadaz uq-Nara.”

Ead rested her head on his shoulder. With a sigh, he wrapped an arm around her.

Aralaq returned then, startling them both. “The great bird is on the wing,” he said. “The Red Damsels draw near.”

Loth got to his feet at once. A strange calm washed over Ead as she took up her bow and quiver.

“Aralaq, we cross the scorchlands to Yscalin. We do not stop,” she said, “until we reach Córvugar.”

Loth mounted. She handed him the cloak, and when she climbed on, he wrapped it around them both.

Aralaq slid and pawed his way to the foot of the mountain and crept out of its shadow to glimpse the lake. Parspa was circling in silence overhead.

It was dark enough to cover their escape. They moved behind the other Godsblades. When there was nowhere else to hide, Aralaq struck out from the mountains and ran.

The scorchlands of Lasia, where the city of Jotenya had once stood, stretched across the north of the country. During the Grief of Ages, the land had been stripped bare by fire, but new grasses had reclaimed it, and wing-leaved trees, spaced far apart, had risen from the ashes.

The terrain began to shift. Aralaq gathered speed, until his paws were flying over yellow grass. Ead clung to his fur. Her belly still ached, but she had to stay alert, to be ready. The other ichneumons would have picked up on their scent by now.

The stars spiraled and shimmered above them, embers in a sky like char. Different to the ones that peppered the night sky in Inys.

More trees sprang up from the earth. Her eyes were dry from the onslaught of wind. Behind her, Loth was shivering. Ead drew the cloak more tightly around them both, covering his hands, and allowed herself to imagine the ship that would carry them from Córvugar.

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