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And if you'll give me answers, I can send to Cefwyn. I know he'll find these men. Can you tell me any reason for what they did? Were they looking for you? Were they angry with the nuns?"
    "Look to yourself, Tristen of Ynefel! Look to yourself! Yes, it was us they wanted, and do you think common soldiers imagined this? Do you think the drunkards and ne'er-do-wells of the garrison traveled all the way to Anwyfar to raid the wine cellars in the nunnery and assault old women? It was hate for us, and these were soldiers!
    Someone sent them! Someone put the idea in their heads, and it was the hate they bear all of us who have wizard-gift—it was fear of my sister and me! So look to yourself, Tristen of Ynefel. If they hate us, a hundred times more they hate you, and now you shelter us!"
    "That may be true," he said. "But Henas'amef is stronger than Anwyfar."
    "A great deal stronger. And have they come for you? Is that the cause of the army outside these walls? There were Ivanim we spoke to last night. I saw Sovrag's pirates."
    "You did see Olmernmen," he said, letting her shafts rain about him, none landing, for she knew nothing, and struck none home. "And Ivanim. But none of these have to do with the nuns and Essan's men."
    "The rumor reached us," Orien said haughtily, with her hands on her sister's shoulders, "even in our rustic exile, it reached us— that Cefwyn has married the Lord Regent's daughter and intends war against Elwynor this spring. And is that what we see outside the walls? Will you wage his war for him? Tristen, the innocent? Tristen, the wizard, Tristen, Mauryl's heir, the defender of the king? Does the Marhanen not wield his own sword, these days?—Or does he wield magic, through you? And is that what came down on us at Anwyfar?"
    It was a fair question, however unkindly put.

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    "What he calls on me to do, I'll do. And I've wished nothing against you."
    Barbs had flown. Now Orien seemed to pause for thought, and heaved a sigh and walked a few paces from Tarien's side. "And do you wish anything against us?"
    "Not for yourselves. Not except as you wish harm here, or to Cefwyn."
    "Have we sanctuary here?"
    Sanctuary was a Word. It meant safety no matter what, justice and all other considerations notwithstanding. It was a strong Word, and Unfolded with magical force.
    "Do you wish harm to Cefwyn?"
    "Am I required to wish him well?"
    "No. Nor would I ask it, nor would he. And I don't offer sanctuary, but if you deserve safety, I promise you'll be safe in this room." A coldness wafted to him out of the gray place, fraught with time, and change. "No more can I do."
    "What? You have limits?" Scorn edged her voice. "Or do you set them for yourself?"
    "If you work mischief here or anywhere, Lady Orien, I will prevent it. If you work any mischief against Cefwyn or anyone else, you won't be safe here, or anywhere."
    "I am your prisoner."
    "Yes."
    "I demanded my rights of my liege lord, my rights by oath, and Cefwyn denied me them and sent me and my sister away in a common cart in the mid of the night, like offal from the kitchens!
    Was that just? Was that justice? Better he had killed us!"
    "He thought it mercy," he said in all honestly. "And said it was a risk."
    "And how long will this arrest go on?" Orien cried indignantly. "Are we to live here forever?"
    "As long as you wish to oppose Cefwyn. I won't ever permit that.
    And I know that you do."

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    Clearly this had taken a turn the ladies Aswydd did not like. Tears brimmed in Tarien's eyes.
    "And shall we never leave this room? Shall we not at least have the freedom of the halls?"
    He had pity on them in that regard, if not his sense of the danger in them were not so great. He had had his own fill of locked doors and silent guards.
    "Not while you intend harm. Think and change your minds if you can. Intend better if you can."
    There was a moment of silence, in which Lady Orien gazed at him with heaving breast and fire in