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〃They can drive you away from the living； as well；〃 said Beatritz the priestess； and in her voice Blaise heard an asperity that told him this was not a new matter between her and the duke。 These people had all known each other a long time； he reminded himself。 Bertran's mouth narrowed。
〃A loving； sisterly thought；〃 he said coldly。 〃Shall we discuss families again？〃
〃Twenty years and more down the road； I would name it an adult thought；〃 the High Priestess replied； unperturbed。 〃Tell me； my lord； what heir would be governing your lands tonight if that arrow had killed you？ And if Ademar of Gorhaut chooses to bring an army south； would you say we are stronger or weaker for the hatred between Miraval and Talair？ Pray share your thoughts。 You will forgive me；〃 she added with sharp sarcasm； 〃for asking questions about today's world； not requesting sweet verses from two decades ago。〃
〃Enough；〃 said Signe de Barbentain sharply。 〃Please。 Or you will both make me feel that I have lived too long。〃
It was Ariane who took them past the moment。 〃More than enough；〃 she murmured； reaching for her wine。 She took a sip and set the goblet down； not hurrying。 〃This is a tiresome； ancient wrangle； and there seem to be new matters that require our consideration。 First of all； our bearded friend。〃 The dark eyes turned to Blaise； appraisingly。 〃Are you？〃 she asked bluntly。 〃Are you a friend？〃
He had actually been ready for this。 〃I am a hired coran in the service of the duke of Talair；〃 he replied。 The correct answer； the professional one。
〃Not good enough；〃 said Ariane calmly。 〃Not any more。 Your father paid a quarter of a million in gold to kill your employer。 You will； I am afraid； have to elect to be more than you say； or less。 Just as Rudel Correze is not merely another assassin among many； just as his name and lineage create dilemmas out of the ordinary； so； too； do yours。 Under the circumstances； rather more so。 There may be a war。 You know the implications of Gorhaut having ceded lands in the Treaty of Iersen Bridge at least as well as we do。 The son of Galbert de Garsenc cannot remain in Arbonne as an ordinary coran any more than Bertran can pretend to be just another troubadour drinking and dicing in The Liensenne。〃 Her voice was even and precise； carrying the tones； in fact； of a mander of men on a battlefield。
And what she said was true。 He knew it； even as the old； sour anger came back。 It was happening again： wherever he went in the world； alone or in pany； in secret or carrying the bright flourish of his reputation into battle or tournament； it seemed that his father was there； with him or before him； barring and bolting doorways； a shadow across the light。
Blaise became aware that his hands were clenched at his sides。 Deliberately he forced them to relax。 He took a deep breath and turned to the duke。
〃I honour my contracts；〃 he said。 〃I believe you know that。〃
Bertran gave his small shrug。 〃Of course I do； but that hardly matters any more。 Men； even kings and clerics of the god； do not spend two hundred and fifty thousand to dispose of a singer whose song they feel has embarrassed them。 The game had changed； Blaise； it is larger than you and I and our private dealings。 You are a player of significance now； whether you want to be or not。〃
Stubbornly； Blaise shook his head。 〃I am a coran for hire。 Pay me enough and I will serve you in war or peace。 Turn me off and I'll seek other employment。〃
〃Stop mouthing rote words； Blaise de Garsenc。 It ill bees you to pretend you do not understand what is being said。〃 Beatritz； tall and implacable； spoke in a voice of grim adjudication。 〃You are the son of the most important man in Gorhaut。 The king is a tool in Galbert's hands； and we all know it。 Your family； whatever their inner turmoil； have holdings more powerful than any other in that country； the more so since all the northern lords have been dispossessed by the Treaty。 Will you stand before us； before the countess of Arbonne； and claim that the only difference between you and Luth of Baude is that you are better with a sword？ Have you been running from your father all these years because you will not oppose him？〃
〃Not oppose him？〃 Blaise echoed； shocked into genuine fury。 〃I have spent my life opposing him； at home and then beyond our walls。 I hate everything the Treaty represents。 I left Gorhaut so as not to live in a country so stripped of its pride。 Everyone there knows it。 I have made my statement。 What else would you have me do？ Ride home in fell wrath and declare myself the true king of Gorhaut？
And stopped； abashed and appalled by the quality of the silence that followed。 By the intent； focused； deeply revealing expressions of the two women and the man by the divan。 Blaise swallowed with difficulty； his mouth was dry。 He closed his eyes for a moment； hearing his own last words as a weirdly distorted echo in the chamber of his skull。 Opening his eyes again he turned； slowly； his heart pounding now as if he'd been running a long distance； and looked towards the fire； to where the countess of Arbonne was standing； small and delicate； white…haired； still beautiful； one hand on the back of a chair for support； her astonishing eyes gazing into his； and smiling； smiling now； he saw； with the radiant； indulgent approval of a mother for a child who has passed； all unexpectedly； a test thought to be beyond him。
No one spoke。 In the rigid stillness of that room in Tavernel on Midsummer Night； at the hinge； the axis； the heart of the year； the white owl suddenly lifted itself； gliding silently on wide wings to settle on Blaise's shoulder like a benediction or a burden beyond all mon measure。
CHAPTER 8
The crimson…clad guard of Carenzu took Lisseut through the late night streets and left her； with another flawless bow； at the doorway of The Liensenne。 She stood there for a moment； undecided； listening to the uproar inside； a confused flurry of emotions working within her。 As she hesitated； debating whether she wanted the conviviality of the tavern itself or the relative intimacy of a chamber upstairs； the noise subsided and a thin； reedy voice came drifting through the window； singing a plangent hymn to Rian。
Lisseut walked quickly around the corner； went down the laneway in back of the tavern； opened the rear door and started up the stairs。 She was truly not of a mind just then to listen to Evrard of Lussan in his pious mode。 On the stairway and then in the corridor she passed couples in ardent clinches…most of the chambers had been booked and overbooked long ago…before ing to the doorway of a room that was always reserved for this week and had been for years。
She knocked。 It wouldn't be locked； she knew； but she had caused some embarrassment two years ago by walking in on three men and a woman； at what turned out to be an extremely inopportune time。 Her difficult relations with Elisse dated from that moment。
By way of reply to her knocking； a reflective； mellifluous voice could be heard singing：
Alone am I and sorrowful for love has gone away；
Gone away on a white horse and left me here to mourn 。。。
She smiled and opened the door。 Aurelian； indeed alone； was sitting on one of the two beds； leaning back against the wall as he fingered his lute。 His shirt was open at the throat and he had taken off his boots。 His long legs extended well out over the side of the bed。 He gave her a grave smile of wele and； still singing； indicated with a motion of his head the table where an open bottle of wine stood； a number of glasses beside it。 There was a rumpled scattering of clothes on the other bed and Lisseut saw blood on a shirt。 She poured herself some wine； took a quick； much…needed drink； and carried the bottle over to refill Aurelian's goblet as well。 There was one small window in the room。 She walked to it and looked down。 It overlooked the alley； there was no one below； but she could hear sounds from the street and Evrard's music drifting up from the downstairs room。 Aurelian continued his own quiet singing； another son； the same theme：
My heart is lonely and brim…full of grief
When I remember the nights that are past；