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It never stopped。 It would not ever stop while the two of them lived。 And who knew what people…and nations…they would draw down into the dark net with them； suspended forever in that time more than twenty years ago when a black…haired woman had died in Miraval？
The man who had just claimed the throne of Gorhaut was standing before the countess now。 He looked； Roban thought； somewhat changed from before； even making allowance for the fact that he'd been bound and nearly naked on a woman's bed the last time the chancellor had seen him。 The Gorhautian； for all the evident pain of his wounds…the gashed ear was dripping blood…carried himself with posure as he faced the two reigning ladies of Arbonne and the king of Valensa。 He wasn't as young as Roban had first thought him to be； either。 The look in his face just now included； unexpectedly； a hint of sadness。 It was not the expression of a youthful man。
Behind him stood Bertran's cousin and Vitalle Correze's son； and a third coran in the livery of Castle Baude。 They already looked like an entourage； the chancellor thought。 Or was it only the manner of the Gorhautian himself that made that seem the case？ Could the mere assertion of a claim effect so much of a change？ It could； Roban decided； if the claim was as large as this one was。 Men were often no more or less than what others saw in them； and no one in the world would ever look at this tall northern coran the same way ever again。 That might； he thought suddenly； explain the sadness。
The countess rose； gesturing for those beside her to remain seated。 Roban couldn't see her face； but he knew she would not be smiling。 Not now； with so much cast into hazard this morning。 She said； her light； clear voice carrying； 〃You have acquitted yourself on this field with honour Blaise de Garsenc； and have received the favour of Rian and Corannos。 We call upon all those here to bear witness that the matter of blood between yourself and Quzman di Perano is ended and resolved forever。〃 She glanced deliberately over to where the banner of the Gorhaut kings was snapping in the breeze above his tent。 〃As for other matters that have emerged this morning； we will have much to say to each other in the days to e； and we doubt not that the king of Valensa will wish to offer his wise counsel in these affairs。 Such matters will be dealt with soon。 For the moment； we offer you the care of our healers in Barbentain…〃 she glanced briefly back towards Roban； who nodded 〃…and we shall say nothing more at this time but an offered prayer that holy Rian will bless you with her grace。〃
Although that； Roban thought grimly； was a great deal to have said。 The countess had made the point already when she rose to salute the Gorhautian at the first running up of his banners； but this was signalling it again； and quite unmistakably。 The chancellor looked over his shoulder。 The physician and the priestess had arrived； they were ing swiftly over； almost running。 But there was one more thing to be done； Roban knew； before Blaise de Garsenc could be released from the public gaze into their care。 This was theatre； and he was on the stage。
As the countess took her seat again it was Ariane who rose； beautiful in autumn hues of russet and pale gold。 Sunrise and sunset； the chancellor thought； looking at the two women； or； since Ariane was not really young any more； perhaps noontide and twilight would better suit as images。 The beauty of the lady of Carenzu was almost dazzling in the clear light。 His own love； though； was for the older woman； for the grace of the ending day； and it would be until he died。
There was a rose to be given now。 Mildly curious； in fact； as to what the Gorhautian would do； Roban heard Ariane's formal words spoken to invoke the symbolic rituals of the Court of Love。 He was not a troubadour； not a coran； not a dancer or a wit or the sort of man who set styles of fashion at court among ladies。 Even so； Roban the chancellor loved his country with his own enduring passion； with an inward； private flame； and he knew that these rituals； frivolous as they might seem； were what defined Arbonne and set it apart from the rest of the world。 And he too； prosaic and dry and sober as he might be in the castle corridors of day； had had his own dreams of winning this rose and offering it…of course…to the countess before cheering multitudes。 Not for some time had he had that dream； but it was not so very long ago； either。
〃We have our traditions here in Arbonne；〃 Ariane was saying。 〃Here； where Rian the goddess is so much more than merely Corinna； maiden daughter of the god。 She has many incarnations； our goddess； and both death and life are contained in her。 Which is why；〃 she said； her clear； strong voice now the only sound among the pavilions； 〃which is why； at the end of a death challenge； there is a ceremony to honour Rian and the mortal women who are all her daughters。 We ask the victor； the chosen of the goddess and the god； to give a rose。〃 She paused。 〃Sometimes； as a higher recognition of his worth； we invite him to offer three。〃
She opened the coffer they had given her； and Roban saw that she had indeed chosen to invoke the full ceremony this morning。 It was seldom done； but it was obvious that Signe and Ariane were marking this moment and this man as indelibly as they could。 He wondered if the Gorhaut coran could possibly be aware of how much he had taken upon himself today。 He wondered how long the man would live…but that； of course； was bound up in how long any of them could expect to live with a war ing； certain as winter and the spring to follow。
〃White is for fidelity；〃 Ariane said； holding the coffer up to be seen。 There was a murmuring all along the pavilions； of anticipation and speculation。 The morning was offering more than anyone could have imagined。 〃Yellow is for love； and red is for desire。〃 She smiled。 〃You may bestow them as you choose； my lord de Garsenc。 We will all be honoured by your doing so。〃 Blaise of Gorhaut； grass…stained and bloody； bowed to Ariane and took the coffer from her long fingers。 It was purest ceremony； Roban knew； a spectacle intended entirely for those in the other pavilions and the mons' standing grounds； and for the words and music of the troubadours and joglars who would carry it to castles and villages far beyond this field when the fair was over。 Knowing this； having seen it so many times before； he was nonetheless moved。 Gravely the man handed the open coffer to Vitalle Correze's son and took from it the white rose。 He looked upon it in silence for a moment； before turning back to the queen。 〃Fidelity I offer where it is most richly deserved； if I might be allowed to name a woman who is not with us at this field。 May I ask you to guard this for her and have it laid at her feet in my name when the time allows？〃
Gravely Ariane nodded。 〃You may and I shall。 Where should I carry it？〃
〃To my sister；〃 said Blaise； and Roban was almost certain the emotion in his voice was not feigned。 〃To Rosala de Savaric de Garsenc； who kept faith with her child and her own vision of Gorhaut。 And say to her； if you will； that I shall never break faith with her while I live。〃
The woman was still in the castle； Roban knew。 This open ground was no place for someone only days past childbirth。 The herald was declaiming her name now that all might hear it。 There had been rumours； but this would be the first formal confirmation of who the mysterious woman in Barbentain was。 They were going be talking about this morning in all six countries for a long time； Roban thought； shaking his head。
Blaise had already turned to take the red rose。 He seemed to be hesitating； brow furrowed； but then Roban saw him smile slightly for the first time since he'd approached。 Carrying it before him； laid across both palms； he limped a short distance down the row of pavilions and stopped before the handsomely carved and decorated chair of Lucianna Delonghi； who had bound him in ropes two nights ago； and cut him with her dagger。 Extending both hands he gave her； with another low bow； the red rose of desire。
Roban； watching with frank curiosity； saw the woman go pale； even as the father； beside her； sm