indicated the tower door. ‘Upon the stairs. They fear the lightning, and besides, I wished to speak with you alone.’
Roland said nothing, and Carline remained silent for a time. The night was sundered with violent displays of energy tearing across the heavens, followed by cracking booms of thunder. ‘When I was young,’ she said at last, ‘Father used to say on nights such as this the gods were sporting in the sky.’
Roland looked at her face, illuminated by the single lantern hanging on the wall. ‘My father told me they made war.’
She smiled. ‘Roland, you spoke rightly on the day Lyam left. I have been lost in my own grief, unable to see the truth. Pug would have been the first to tell me that nothing is forever. That living in the past is foolish and robs us of the future.’ She lowered her head a little. ‘Perhaps it has something to do with Father. When Mother died, he never fully recovered. I was very young, but I can still remember how he was. He used to laugh a great deal before she died. He was more like Lyam then. After … well, he became more like Arutha. He’d laugh, but there’d be a hard edge to it, a bitterness.’
‘As if somehow mocking?’
She nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yes, mocking. Why did you say that?’
‘Something I noticed … something I pointed out to your brother today. About Martin Longbow.’
She sighed. ‘Yes, I understand. Longbow is also like that.’
Softly Roland said, ‘Nevertheless, you did not come to speak of your brother or Martin.’
‘No, I came to tell you how sorry I am for the way I’ve acted. I’ve been angry with you for two weeks, but I’d no right. You only said what was true. I’ve treated you badly.’
Roland was surprised. ‘You’ve not treated me badly, Carline. I acted the boor.’
‘No, you have done nothing but be a friend to me, Roland. You told me the truth, not what I wanted to hear. It must have been hard … considering how you feel.’ She looked out at the approaching storm. ‘When I first heard of Pug’s capture, I thought the world ended.’
Trying to be understanding, Roland quoted, ‘“The first love is the difficult love.”’
Carline smiled at the aphorism. ‘That is what they say. And with you?’
Roland mustered a carefree stance. ‘So it seems, Princess.’
She placed her hand upon his arm. ‘Neither of us is free to feel other than as we do, Roland.’
His smile became sadder. ‘That is the truth, Carline.’
‘Will you always be my good friend?’
There was a genuine note of concern in her voice that touched the young Squire. She was trying to put matters right between them, but without the guile she’d used when younger. Her honest attempt turned aside any frustration he felt at her not returning his affections fully. ‘I will, Carline. I’ll always be your good friend.’
She came into his arms and he held her close, her head against his chest. Softly she said, ‘Father Tully says that some loves come unbidden like winds from the sea, and others grow from the seeds of friendship.’
‘I will hope for such a harvest, Carline. But should it not come, still I will remain your good friend.’
They stood quietly together for a time, comforting each other for different causes, but sharing a tenderness each had been denied for two years. Each of them was lost in the comfort of the other’s nearness, and neither saw what the lightning flashes revealed for brief instants. On the horizon, beating for the harbor, came a ship.
The winds whipped the banners on the palisades of the castle walls as rain began to fall. As water gathered in small pools, the lanterns cast yellow reflections upward off the puddles to give an otherworldly look to the two men standing on the wall.
A flash of lightning illuminated the sea, and a soldier said, ‘There! Highness, did you see? Three points south of the Guardian Rocks.’ He extended his arm, pointing the way.
Arutha peered into the gloom, his brow furrowed in concentration. ‘I can see nothing in this darkness. It’s blacker than a Guis-wan priest’s soul out there.’ The soldier absently made a protective sign at the mention of the killer god. ‘Any signal from the beacon tower?’
‘None, Highness. Not by beacon, nor by messenger.’
Another flash of lightning illuminated the night, and Arutha saw the ship outlined in the distance. He swore. ‘It will need the beacon at Longpoint to reach the harbor safely.’ Without another word, he ran down the stairs leading to the courtyard. Near the gate he instructed a soldier to get his horse and two riders to accompany him. As he stood there waiting, the rain passed, leaving the night with a clean but warm, moist feeling. A few minutes later, Fannon appeared from the direction of the soldiers’ commons. ‘What’s this? Riding?’
Arutha said, ‘A ship makes for the harbor, and there is no beacon at Longpoint.’
As a groom brought Arutha’s horse, followed by two mounted soldiers, Fannon said, ‘You’d best be off, then. And tell those stone-crowned layabouts at the lighthouse I’ll have words for them when they finish duty.’
Arutha had expected an argument from Fannon and felt relieved there would be none. He mounted and the gates were opened. They rode through and headed down the road toward town.
The brief rain had made the night rich with fresh odors: the flowers along the road, and the scent of salt from the sea, soon masked by the acrid odor of burned wood from the charred remnants of gutted buildings as they neared town.
They sped past the quiet town, taking the road along the harbor. A pair of guards stationed by the quayside hastily saluted when they saw the Prince fly past. The shuttered buildings near the docks bore mute testimony to those who had fled after the raid.
They left the town and rode out to the lighthouse, following a bend in the road. Beyond the town they gained their first glimpse of the lighthouse, upon a natural island of rock joined to the mainland by a long causeway of stone, topped by a compacted dirt road. The horses’ hooves beat a dull tattoo upon the dirt as they approached the tall tower. A lightning flash lit up the sky, and the three riders could see the ship running under full sail toward the harbor.
Shouting to the others, Arutha said, ‘They’ll pile upon the rocks without a beacon.’
One of the guards shouted back, ‘Look, Highness. Someone signals!’
They reined in and saw figures near the base of the tower. A man dressed in black stood swinging a shuttered lantern back and forth. It could be clearly seen by those on the ship, but not by anyone upon the castle walls. In the dim light, Arutha saw the still forms of Crydee soldiers lying on the ground. Four men, also attired in black with head coverings that masked their faces, ran toward the horsemen. Three drew long swords from back scabbards, while the fourth aimed a bow. The soldier to Arutha’s right cried out as an arrow struck him in the chest. Arutha charged his horse among the three who closed, knocking over two while his sword slashed out, taking the third across the face. The man fell without a sound.
The Prince wheeled around and saw his other
