'Granted,' Ilsabet said. 'First, execute these men.'
'Baroness?' Shaul said, unable to believe the order. 'I may need to question them further.'
'Then take those two back to their cells, but execute the defiant one.'
Peto's chair shook as he felt the man's chains beat across his legs. 'Baron Peto, please!' the man pleaded. 'I'd never harm you. I celebrated when your troops invaded and brought down the tyrant Janosk. I…'
'You speak of my father,' Ilsabet said. 'Now take him away. Weigh his body down with rocks and throw him into the river. Let him feel helpless for the moments before he dies, as my husband will feel helpless for the rest of his life.'
They took the man away still pleading. His chains rattled as the guards pulled him out the door and down the stairs, cursing the ever-present fog.
At least her method of execution was humane, Peto thought. She was doing exactly what she'd agreed to do in that matter, as in the others-the mark of a truly loving, grieving wife.
As he'd expected, she become more bloodthirsty in the weeks that followed. Her nature seemed to demand it. Completely in control, she sought out the poisoners with fanatical zeal. Judging from the wooden way some of the servants gave their testimony, they'd been bribed. Others needed no prompting. In exchange for mercy, they embellished their stories with rumors they swore were true.
When the evidence against the rebels had been collected, and the implicated rebels found and imprisoned, Ilsabet had Peto carried down to the dungeons to listen to the interrogation of the prisoners. Often they had to be tortured before they knew what to confess. For this, Ilsabet called on some of her father's old guards, men as skilled with a whip and a brand as they were with keeping order among their troops.
Nearly blind, unable to speak or to move, Peto's sense of hearing had become painfully acute. The screams of the victims tore through him. Ilsabet's death sentences, done in his name, sickened him as the poison had never done. For the first time since he'd fallen, he began to wish for death.
And if her acts weren't enough, there was her past.
Each night, she told him, in graphic detail, of one more despicable act-how Marishka had died, how Mihael had been driven to attack him, how Greta had discovered the poison and had to be silenced.
All that kept Peto from despair was the thought of Lekai being raised by a creature such as Ilsabet. He had to survive to save his son.
TWENTY-NINE
Twice every day, Jorani went alone to the baron and gave him a spoonful of elixir. Peto would clench and unclench his fists, wiggle his toes. Once, he even managed to lift an arm a few inches off the bed before it fell, seemingly lifeless once more.
In truth, though Peto still could not speak, he was much stronger than Jorani suspected. However, Peto could not completely trust the Kislovan lord. He'd seen how Jorani had managed to step around the questions concerning his involvement in the poisonings, how he'd volunteered nothing as innocent people were condemned to death.
Then, two weeks into his treatment, Jorani had spooned the elixir into his mouth and whispered, 'If you wish me to continue giving you this, you have to make me a promise. When you recover, you must not harm Ilsabet. You may take whatever steps are necessary to see that she never kills again, but I can't let you accuse her openly. If I have your word on this, squeeze my hand.
Peto did, but only because he had no choice.
However, with time to meditate, he saw the wisdom in doing exactly what Jorani demanded. He could not condemn the mother of his child, not here, and certainly not in civilized Sundell. To do so would put his own need for revenge above Lekai's reputa-tion. He would not see his son's rule fall under the dark clouds of murder and insanity, and have him burdened through every crisis with the quiet whispers that perhaps he took too much after his mother.
Besides, Peto owed Jorani that request, for Jorani was the only one who hadn't given up on his plight.
'Ilsabet thinks I've been feeding your some useless blend of herbs and honey,' Jorani told him. 'Actually I think the elixir's working far more effectively than you reveal to me. I wish we could continue, but this is the last dose I have. I have to go to Argentine to find the roots I need to mix more. It's harvest time; I have a good excuse for going, but
Weeks! Peto wondered how he'd get on with Jorani gone.
'In my absence, Ilsabet is going to allow Shaul to read you her letters from Sundell and keep you informed about Kislova, as I've done. I think she means it as torment, but I know you want the information.'
Peto gripped Jorani's hand harder than usual, the sign they'd worked out for affirmative.
Ilsabet visited him later, bringing Lekai with her. The boy was cutting teeth, and he fretted and cried until Ilsabet placed him on the floor. No sooner had she put him down than he dug his fingers into Peto's woven blanket, pulled himself to his feet, and tried to climb back onto Peto's bed, screaming until Ilsabet lifted him and put him on Peto's chest.
'A strong boy. The old servants tell me even my father wasn't that strong at six months. At this rate he'll be lifting Ruven's little shield before he's a year old.'
Peto, his head propped up on the pillow, managed to open his eyes just far enough to see the boy's face staring into his. Ilsabet, hovering close to keep Lekai from falling, was no more than an unfocused blur of red gown, pale skin and white-blond hair.
True to his promise, Shaul came that afternoon and read the most recent letter from Sundell-one from Peto's mother to Ilsabet. It was an acerbic account of how admirably Peto's twenty-year-old nephew ruled Sundell in his place. Ilsabet probably thought he'd find the news one more taunt, but Peto considered it a welcome contrast to Ilsabet's rule of Kislova.
When he'd finished the letter, Shaul began to talk to him, but not as Jorani did. Instead, he moved his mouth close to Peto's ear, whispering low and fearful.
'If you do hear me, forgive me for what I say, but I must try to tell you how I feel,' he said. 'This is a barbaric land. I can't help but think how we would have been treated if their invasion had succeeded. We should have done the same to the Obours, then placed a Sundell noble you despised in charge of these cursed people and gone home. Your wife seems to love you, Baron, but I cannot help comparing her to my own wife, whom I miss dearly. There is a coldness to the baroness that frightens me, and I doubt the guilt of those we executed.
'I've begun my own investigation into your poisoning. I've made a careful examination of the dungeons and found the tracks of a woman's shoe in an unused part of it. The baroness has been down there, yes, but only as far as the last occupied cell, and always in the company of the guards. The tracks I saw were made by a single person, and seem to lead nowhere. I believe there's some passage behind one of the walls, but everything sounds hollow down there. I'll continue to look.
'Baron, forgive me, but if what I suspect is true, I'll take your son and what remains of the Sundell guards, carry you to your coach, and leave this place. It may mean your death, but I think you might welcome that end, as I would if I were so helpless.'
Peto wanted to take the man's hand, squeeze and nod, but he was afraid to do so, certain any movement on his part would give Shaul some hope of recovery and turn him from the course he'd decided on.
When his lieutenant had gone, Peto listened to the sounds of the castle-footsteps in the hall, the rattle of chamber pots, the giggling of servant girls, and the rustle of something moving in the wall behind his bed.
One of the river rats had gotten into the wall, he hoped. He prayed, don't let it have been her.
Shaul waited until the last of the dungeon guards had made his nightly rounds, then walked past him toward the cells, torch held high.
'Can we help you find someone, Lieutenant?' the soldier asked.
'Not at all,' Shaul replied, hoping they were too lazy to follow him-relieved when they didn't.
He walked the twisting passage carefully. Slime coated the floor and the rock walls had begun to calcify, leaving milky white crystals where the wall met the floor. Shaul went to the spot where he'd found the footprints
