Chapter 8: The Ford Market

I went down the mill stairs before Corwin could catch my sleeve.

"Elowen," he said. "Wait."

"Catriona's here with sixty riders and a herald," I said. "If she searches the village, she finds the miller, the boy and you."

"Then we leave by the river."

"And she burns the mill to make a point."

He opened his mouth, and shut it again.

He knew I was right.

"Keep the boy hidden," I said. "Garran stays with you. I'll walk her out."

"You'll walk into her hands."

"I'll walk into a crowd."

I pulled up my hood and stepped out into the square.

It was market day in Dunford, and the square was full.

Fishwives, cheese sellers, a boy with a goose under each arm, two old men on a bench with their pipes.

Catriona sat on her white horse in the middle of them all, with the circlet shining.

Her herald was reading from a scroll.

"By order of the Lord Regent, the traitor Elowen Ashgrove has fled the Moon Court."

"Any who shelter her will answer as traitors. Any who give her up will receive a hundred silver marks."

"All within hearing will kneel to the Princess Catriona."

Nobody knelt.

The fishwives crossed their arms.

The goose boy shifted his geese.

One of the old men tapped out his pipe on his boot, very slowly.

"I said kneel," the herald repeated, and his voice rose.

Catriona's smile began to look stiff.

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