"It's the enemy, Cavaor," Joven said. "He's here."

"The enemy?"

"Hansa. They've besieged Haundwarpen, and about a hundred of them just rode into the estate. The duke didn't leave many men here to guard it; I think they surrendered."

"I don't understand," Leoff said. "I thought Hansa was beaten at Poelscild."

"Auy. But they say Queen Anne is dead, and without her sainted power to hold them back, they've taken Poelscild and crossed the canal. All of Newland is in their grasp."

"The queen is dead? Queen Anne?"

"Murdered, they say."

"That's terrible news," Leoff said. He hadn't known Anne very well, but he owed her mother, Muriele, a lot. She had lost all but one of her children now. He couldn't imagine how she must be feeling.

Nor did he want to learn, at least not by direct experience.

"Where are Areana and Mery?" he asked, trying to keep calm.

"Lys went to find them. She thinks they're in the garden."

Leoff nodded and took up his cane. "Get them to the cottage and stay there with them, please."

"Yes, Cavaor," the old fellow said, and sprinted off as fast as he could on his aged legs.

Leoff pushed himself up and went out to stand on the stoop. Dogs were barking everywhere, but other than that it seemed a normal day, pleasant even.

He didn't have to wait long. Within a bell, a knight with a red-plumed helm came riding through the gate, followed by ten horsemen and about twice that number on foot.

The knight turned his head this way and that and, apparently satisfied he hadn't ridden into a trap, doffed the headgear, discovering an oval-faced man of twenty-something years with auburn hair and a lighter red mustache.

"I hait Sir Ilzereik af Aldamarka," he said in accented but good king's tongue. "I declare this house and its grounds spoils of war in the name of Marcomir, king of Hansa."

"I hait Leovigild Ackenzal," he replied. "I'm a guest here, by leave of Duke Artwair Dare."

"You live alone, Fralet Ackenzal?"

"No."

"Bring the others, then."

"I can't do that until I have your word they will be well treated."

"Why do you think you're in a position to bargain?" Ilzereik asked. "Who are you protecting? Your wife and daughters, perhaps? I could find them easily enough and do whatever I liked with them. But I am a knight of Hansa, not some thrall of your dead witch-queen. You need not beg me to behave properly in the eyes of the saints."

"I'm not begging," Leoff said. He'd been afraid of men like this once. He wasn't anymore, not for himself, anyway.

"Your house is mine," the knight said. "My men will sleep in the yard. You and whoever else is here will see to our needs. Do that and no harm will come to you. Is that understood?"

"It's understood," Leoff said. "If that is your word as a knight of Hansa."

"It is," the knight said. "Now, my man Aizmeki will go with you to find the others."

Aizmeki wasn't a big man, but he looked to be made of muscle and scars and not much else. He followed Leoff wordlessly out to the garden and the little cabin there.

Areana rushed out and hugged him. Mery just peered at the warrior as if he were some strange insect and took Leoff's hand in her little cold one.

The knight's word proved good, at least for that afternoon. Although many of the Hansan warriors leered openly at Areana and some at Mery, which was disgusting, none dared do more than make a few probably crude comments in their own language, and they returned to the house in peace.

He found Ilzereik looking through his music.

"Who wrote this?" he asked.

"I did."

"You did?" The knight peered at him a little more intently. "You're a composer?"

"I am."

"Ackenzal," the knight mused. "I don't recall the name."

"You know music?"

"I studied a little. My father thought I should, so he kept an instructor in our hall and sent me each autumn to study at the Liuthgildrohsn."

"Ah. With Mestro Evensun."

A little smile played on the knight's face. "You know the mestro?"

"I do. He lectured at the college when I was apprenticed to Mestro DaPeica."

The smile broadened. "I have a book of DaPeica's short works for hammarharp."

Leoff nodded.

"Well," the knight said, gesturing toward the hammarharp, "play me something of yours."

"I'm afraid I can't," Leoff said.

"You shouldn't fear my criticism," the Hansan said. "I'm not a snob. The great composers and the small, I like them all."

"That isn't it," Leoff said, holding up his hands.

"Schithundes," the man swore. "What happened?"

"He was tortured," Areana interrupted in a brittle voice. "He's suffered much."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the knight said. "And I understand you, Frauja Ackenzal. Your husband will not suffer at my hands, not if you all behave."

"I can play for you," Mery said softly. "Areana can sing."

"Really?" Ilzereik looked pleased. "I would like that, barnila."

Leoff squeezed Mery's hand. "Play the Poelen Suite," Leoff said. "I think he'll like that. And play it as written, Mery. Do you understand?"

She nodded and went to sit at the instrument. Areana went hesitantly to join her.

Mery put her fingers on the keys and struck down. The chord rang a little wrong, and Leoff bit his lip and prayed to the saints that she could hold back the darkness in her.

But the second chord was pure, and from there everything proceeded smoothly. Areana's voice was lovely, as always, and when they finished, the knight applauded.

"I never expected to find such wonderful accommodations," he said. "Sir, let's have some wine. You and I will talk, fralet. For quite some time now I've been working a little here and there at a sort of musical telling of the Shiyikunisliuth, an epic about the tribe my family arose from. If I could play you a little of it, perhaps you might have some ideas of how I might go about fleshing it out."

And so their first night under occupation passed if not pleasantly, at least without disaster. When they took to their beds that night on the floor in the kitchen, Leoff prayed that the Hansan continued to be entertained enough by them to keep his men in check.

He was breathing a little more freely three days later. Some of the men, notably a stout fellow they called Haukun, continued their leering, but Ilzereik seemed to have them under control.

On the third afternoon, he was pretending to work on the knight's "epic" but instead was going back over the third section of the work he was beginning to think of as a kind of requiem; he heard the door burst open and Areana shout. He tried to get up too fast, toppled his stool, and fell. He grabbed his cane and pushed himself up to find himself facing the point of a sword held by a man with closely cropped sandy hair and a missing ear. He didn't know the fellow's name, but it was one of Ilzereik's men.

"Easy, now," the man said. "Qimeth jus hiri." He jerked his head toward the common room.

Leoff went with the sword at his back. Black clouds boiled in his peripheral vision.

Haukun and three other men were there, along with Areana and Mery.

"There we go," Haukun said. "Every one here now."

"What is this?" Leoff said, feeling stones in his gut. "Sir Ilzereik-"

"He is gone," Haukun said bluntly. "Called to siege. He comined back not too soon. I in charge this place now."

"He won't be pleased if you hurt us."

"I care little for his pleasing," the soldier said. "Stingy man, not understanding how to keep his men happy, you know? Sit in here every night while pretty girls make pretty music." He pushed Mery toward the hammarharp. "You play, jah? And this one will sing. Maybe not hurt you too much. Maybe women even like it."

Areana slapped him hard. "If you touch Mery-" But Haukun cut her off with a fist to the chin. Areana slammed against the wall and slid down, stunned, crying but making no sound.