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m； the neat； precise movements。 He had not turned out to be what she'd expected from his verses； or from the tales told of his dealings with women in many countries。
〃How do we know of this？〃 she asked at length。
He said； without turning； 〃A coran from Garsenc who was here for the tournament。 He watched Blaise this morning and was riding north to tell the king what had happened。〃
〃Why did he change his mind？〃
Bertran looked briefly over his shoulder and shook his head。 〃That I do not know。 I'll have to ask Blaise later。〃 He turned back to the fire； shifting the wood。 First one side caught； and then a moment later the other did。 With a grunt of satisfaction he rose。 〃He swore fealty to Blaise tonight； as his liege lord and true king。 He named Ademar as a traitor。〃
〃Iersen Bridge； then；〃 said Rosala quietly。 〃That is why he did it。 He was probably a man from the north。 There will be many who feel that way about the treaty。〃
〃How many？〃 asked the duke of Talair。 She realized that he meant the question seriously； that he was treating her as someone whose views on this would matter。
〃That is hard to judge；〃 she said。 The fire had caught now； warming her。 〃Not enough； I don't think。 Most of the men of rank who might matter are afraid of the king； and the mon folk are even more afraid of the brethren of Corannos…who are ruled by my father…in…law。〃
He was silent。 Looking into the fire Rosala saw a future there shaped of flame。 Fifty people had died tonight for her。 She closed her eyes again； but the imprint of the fire was still against her eyelids。 The shock was beginning to pass。
〃Oh； my son；〃 she said。 〃Oh； Cadar。〃 And then； 〃I will have to take him back。 I cannot let them do this to people here。 It is because he is a boy； you see。 They will not let us be。〃
It seemed that she was crying again； the tears spilling to slide down her face before the fire。 She heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor； and then a rustling； and then petent； capable hands had taken her and laid her head against a strong shoulder。 His arm went around her。
〃Neither of you is going back；〃 said Bertran de Talair； his voice roughened。 〃The countess herself stood up for your child before Corannos and Rian and so did I。 I swore an oath to you the night Cadar was born。 I did not do so carelessly。 I will swear it again： neither of you is going back to them while I live。〃
Something hard and tight in Rosala seemed to loosen； or she let go of her hold upon it； and she allowed herself to weep without shame in the arms of the duke of Talair。 She wept for Cadar； for herself； for the dead and burned of that night； for all the dying and burning yet to e。 His clasp was firm holding her； his voice low； murmuring words of fort and heart's ease。 No one had held her like this； Rosala thought； since her father had died。 She wept for that； as well。
She could not know it； but Bertran de Talair's thoughts just then were almost a mirror of her own： he was thinking that he could not remember the last time he had held a woman in this way； offering shelter and strength and not simply the passion of a moment。 And then； a moment later； he realized that this was untrue： that he could remember the last time； quite well actually； if he allowed the memory in through his barriers。
The last woman he had held this way； his own heart beating as if for hers； had later died in Miraval giving birth to his child； twenty…three years ago。
Blaise stopped outside the partially open door of Rosala's room。 He had been ing to tell her of the news that had reached them that night； feeling the dread of all such message…bearers； but not wanting her to learn it badly； from a stranger。 Ranald had been at Aubry； Thaune had said； and Fulk de Savaric； her brother。 About to knock； he heard two voices； and realized a moment later that he had been anticipated in his errand。 He felt an unexpected mixture of emotions。 Relief； mostly； in the end。
Uncertain whether to enter or leave； he heard Rosala abruptly speak in a stricken voice of taking the child back to Gorhaut。 Grieving for her； understanding exactly what she meant； and humbled again by what it seemed she was； he heard Bertran de Talair； unexpectedly gruff； repeating an oath he'd evidently sworn to her before。 Blaise heard Rosala begin to weep then； and through the angle of the door； in the light of the fire's glow； he saw the duke move to the arm of her chair to hold her while she cried。
He felt an intruder； a cause of the distress the other man was trying to assuage。 He ought to have been forting her himself； he thought。 He owed her that much。 He owed her at least that much。 Blaise looked back up the corridor and saw Hirnan waiting discreetly at the farther end。 Feeling his wounds again and weary still； but with a suddenly urgent need to at least finish what he had begun with the white rose this morning； he knocked on the door and said； quietly； so as not to startle them too greatly； 〃For what it is worth； I have an oath of my own from this morning to repeat。〃
They both looked up； Bertran calmly； Rosala wiping quickly at her eyes。 She shifted a little then and the duke rose； allowing her to stand and then walk forward。 A little too late Blaise realized what she was about to do。 Quickly； trying to forestall her； he moved into the room so that； in the end； they ended up on their knees； both of them； facing each other before the fire。 He wouldn't have blamed Bertran for laughing； but the duke was silent and watchful。
The lost children of Gorhaut； Lucianna had said two nights ago。 Truth to that； Blaise thought。 Through her tears he saw Rosala offer the glimmer of a smile。
〃Will you not accept my homage； my lord？〃
He shook his head。
〃You will have to bee accustomed to this；〃 she murmured。 〃Kings can't go about kneeling to women。〃
〃I am not a king yet；〃 he said； 〃and to some women I think they can。 I understand the duke of Talair has vowed that he will not let them take you while he lives。〃 He looked at Bertran； whose expression remained devoid of irony。 〃Hear me； then。 In the name of the most holy god； I swear I will keep faith with you； Rosala。 My claim to the throne is as nothing if we surrender you and Cadar。〃 He heard the roughness in his own voice at the end。
It was the first time he had actually spoken the child's name。 It sounded strange to him as an infant's name。 Cadar was a name of power for Blaise； for an entire generation in Gorhaut； given their vivid images of Rosala's father。 It was a name of pride； of hope 。。。 if the child lived long enough。
Rosala shook her head。 〃We should not matter so much； he and I；〃 she murmured。 〃There is too much at stake here。〃
Behind her； Bertran said quietly； 〃Sometimes people end up mattering more than one might expect。 My lady； the two of you are what is at stake。 They will use you to begin the war。 They already have。〃
〃Then send us back；〃 she whispered。 She was looking at Blaise； not at Bertran。
〃It would make no difference；〃 the duke answered quietly。 〃Not now。 They would kill you and keep him and still find a reason to e down on us。 They have all the dispossessed of their northlands hungry to be assuaged。 This isn't like the old romances： Elienna carried off to Royaunce and an army going after her。 This is pure politics now； the hard game of nations。 My lady Rosala； Arbonne is the last clause； if you will； of the Treaty of Iersen Bridge。〃
Blaise； closely watching her； saw the handsome； intelligent features accept the truth of Bertran's words。 She knew as much about these things as Ariane or Lucianna； or indeed； he and Bertran。 She always had。 There were tears still on her cheeks； revealed by the firelight； awkwardly； regretting how difficult such gestures seemed to be for him； he brought up a hand and brushed them away。 He wished he were more graceful； more at ease with himself。 He said； 〃You owe no homage to me； Rosala。〃
She looked again as if she would protest； but in the end said only； 〃I may thank you for the flower？〃
Blaise found that he could smile。 〃I would expect you to。〃
Bertran laughed quietly。 Rosala； a second later； returned the smile tremulously