The Eagle And The Nightingales

'sculptures' in turn.

'Have you any idea how sensitive those are?' he asked her quietly. 'Could they hear into the next room, do you think?'

She had to shake her head. 'I haven't a clue,' she admitted.

'Well, then since I do not believe that Tyladen is entitled to any vestige of my private life, and since I believe him to be as enthusiastic a voyeur as he is a coward, I think that for one night there will be no listening.' He took each of the 'sculptures' in turn and buried it under a pile of pillows and cushions thieved from the furniture.

'There,' he said with satisfaction. 'That should take care of that!'

He turned to her and held out his hand again. She took it, the dry, hard skin feeling warmer than usual beneath her hand. 'I would like a bath,' he said. 'Would you?'

She nodded, unable to actually say anything.

'I do warn you,' he continued, 'I look altogether miserable when wet. If your romantic inclinations survive the sight of me with my feathers plastered to my skin, they will survive anything.'

She smiled, suddenly shy. 'I suspect they will survive,' she said in a low voice. 'Yours may not survive seeing me without a beautiful costume to make up for my otherwise_'

He put a talon across her lips and led her into the bathroom, where they discovered that romance survives a great many trials, and thrives on laughter.

CHAPTER NINE

Harperus was still bedridden, many days later; T'fyrr had come to make one of his morning visits.

He had not been the only visitor, but Harperus' second guest had come as the bearer of bad tidings.

The Captain of the Bodyguards left them after delivering his unwelcome news, and if a mans retreating back could signal chagrin, profound embarrassment, and disgust with a situation, his did.

It well should have.

'I cannot believe this!' T'fyrr exploded, once the Captain was out of the suite and out of earshot. Harperus shrugged, philosophically, from the shelter of his huge bed. The bruise on his forehead had faded to an unpleasant pale green and brown, and on the whole he was doing well. But the effects of the self- healing trance_and the exhaustion of handling what had probably been a cracked skull as well as a concussion_were longer-lasting than either of them had anticipated.

'I had actually expected something like this,' the Deliambren said with a sigh. 'I didn't want to say anything, lest I be seen to imply that Theovere's people are less than competent, but I was holding my breath over it. If a man can be spirited away from a locked and guarded room in the Palace, surely the city gaols are no more secure.'

T'fyrr only snarled, and his talons scraped across the floor as he flexed his feet angrily.

No sooner had the man Harperus identified been arrested, taken into custody, and turned over to a city gaol, than he was free again. This time it was nothing so obvious as a guard being seduced. No, the man escaped from a locked and barred cell, and a lace handkerchief had been left in his place.

It seemed that their mysterious female adversary was not above taunting them.

Damn her. Whoever she is. She had to be someone either in high Court circles herself, or with connections there. There was no other way that she could have known that the man had been arrested, much less that he had been taken to a particular city gaol. There were three main gaols, after all, and a dozen lesser ones, never mind the many Church gaols; he could have been in any of them.

'And the King has not called for you once since my attack.' Harperus pursed his lips unhappily. 'He was displeased by Nightingale? Or is he displeased with your performances?'

'Not at all,' T'fyrr replied bitterly. 'He made a point of thanking her for coming the day after you were attacked. No, the reason is that he has a new toy to intrigue him; I am no longer a novelty. I have been subverted,