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own this。
The wench could not withstand the unspoken rebuke； hurried away。 She held her arms in close； in the careful way of those who've given up an endowment of touch。 Gaborn took a good knife； cut a thigh off a goose that lay on another plate。 He thrust the dagger into the belt of his tunic； and stuffed as much meat as he could in his mouth； he uncorked a bottle of wine from the table； washed down the goose meat as fast as he could； surprised at the quality of the wine。
One of the King's own red hunting hounds had been lounging under the table。 It saw Gaborn eating； came up and sat at Gaborn's feet； eyes expectant； casually sweeping the floor with its tail。
Gaborn tossed it the meaty goose bone； then grabbed another loaf of bread； began eating。
All this time； his mind raced。 Though someone would e to help guide him from the castle； he knew that it would not be easy； and he could not safely rely on others。 He considered various plans。 Castle Sylvarresta had a moat； a river flowing along its eastern wall； with a water wheel for the grain mill。
There would be a boathouse by the mill； where the royals could go out for a casual row。 Often； an underground passage led down to the boathouse from the castle。
But the boathouse would be well watched by Raj Ahten's troops。 The Wolf Lord had nomen with him； nomen who could see in the dark。 It wasn't likely that Gaborn could make it out of the boathouse。
The kitchen staff might have some sort of a sewer that would connect to the river。 But that was unlikely。 Nothing ever went to waste in the kitchens。 Bones were fed to the King's dogs。 Vegetable peels and animal guts went to the swine。 Hides went to tanners。 Anything that was left went to the gardens。
Gaborn had to escape through the river。 He couldn't risk trying to go out by land。 The war dogs would find him。
And he couldn't stay； couldn't hide in the castle for the night。 He had to leave before nightfall。 Once darkness fell； and the city quieted； Raj Ahten's hunters would begin searching for him； out for vengeance。
The pretty serving wench returned with another bottle of wine； more bread and meat to replace what Gaborn had taken。
Gaborn spoke to the back of her neck。 〃Pardon me。 I am Prince Orden。 I need to reach the river。 Do you know of a passage I can take？〃 Almost immediately he felt stupid。 I should not have given my name； he thought。 Yet he'd felt the need to impress upon her the nature of his predicament； and revealing his name was the swiftest way to do so。
The girl looked at him； lamplight reflecting in her brown eyes。 Gaborn wondered why she'd divested herself of feeling。 A love affair gone awry； the desire to never touch or be touched again？ Life could not he easy for her。 Those who gave endowments of touch could not feel heat or cold； pain or pleasure。 All their senses dulled somewhathearing； sight； and smell。
Because of this； life for them was as empty as if they were opium addicts。 They would often burn or cut themselves； never knowing。 In the cold of winter； they could get frostbite and bear it without tears。
Gaborn didn't know who she'd given her endowment of touch towhether it had gone to the King； to the Queen； or to Iome。 Yet he felt certain that King Sylvarresta would be put to death。 Possibly within hours； before dawn。 Unless Raj Ahten wanted to torture the man first。
Would this wench sit before a fire tonight； waiting for the first touch of warmth to her skin？ Or would she stand out in the cold mists； feeling the play of it over her face ？ Certainly life could not be easy for her。
〃There's a trail out back；〃 she said； her voice surprisingly husky； sweet。 〃The baker's path leads down to the mill。 There are some low birches that sweep out over the water。 You might make it。〃
〃Thank you；〃 Gaborn said。
He turned； thinking to go out to the courtyard。 He wanted to leave Castle Sylvarresta； but he needed to strike a blow against Raj Ahten。 He'd seen dozens of forcibles lying on the green； where the facilitators had recently worked。
The forcibles； forged from valuable blood metal from the hills of Kartish； were a mixture of metals believed to be derived from human blood。 Only blood metal could be used to make forcibles。 Gaborn couldn't let Raj Ahten have them。
But as he turned to go； the maid tapped Gaborn's shoulder and asked； 〃Will you take me with you？〃
Gaborn saw fear in her eyes。 〃I would；〃 he answered softly； 〃if I thought it could help。 But you may be safer here。〃 In Gaborn's experience； Dedicates were seldom very courageous。 They were not the type of people to seize life； to grasp。 They served their lords； but served passively。 He did not know if this girl would have the emotional fortitude necessary to make her escape。
〃If they kill the Queen。。。〃 she said。 〃The soldiersthey'll use me。 You know how they take vengeance on captured Dedicates。〃
Then Gaborn understood why she had given up feeling； why she feared to be touched； to be hurt again。 She feared rape。
She was right。 Raj Ahten's soldiers might hurt her。 These people who were too weak to stand； or whose metabolisms were so slow they could not blink more than five times an hourall were a part of their Runelord。 They were his invisible appendages； the source of his power。 By upholding their lord； they opposed their lord's enemies。
If King Sylvarresta were put to death； these wretches wouldn't escape retribution。
Gaborn wanted to tell the maid to stay； that he couldn't take her。 Wanted to tell her how dangerous the trip would be。 But for her； perhaps the greater danger lay in remaining here in the Dedicates' Keep。
〃I plan to try to swim out through the river；〃 Gaborn answered。 〃Can you swim？〃
The wench nodded。 〃A little。〃 She shook at the thought of what she planned to do。 Her jaw trembled。 Tears filled her eyes。 Swimming would not be a valuable skill here in Heredon； but in Mystarria Gaborn had learned the finer points of the arts from water wizards。 He still had protective spells cast over him to help keep him from drowning。
Gaborn leaned close； squeezed her hand。 〃Be brave； now。 You'll be all right。〃
He turned to leave； and she shouldered past； taking a loaf of bread for herself as she scurried out。 In the doorway she grabbed a walking stick and an old shawl； wrapped her head； and hurried out。
On a peg near where the walking stick had been； Gaborn spotted a baker's tunic； an article of clothing too warm to be worn near the ovens。 The bakers typically would strip down to a loincloth while baking。
Gaborn put on the tunic； a grimy thing that smelled of yeast and another man's sweat。 He hung Sylvarresta's fine blue robe in its place。
He looked now like a menial servant； but for his sword and poniard。 He couldn't help those。 He'd need them。
He hurried into the courtyard to gather the forcibles。 The clear evening sky had darkened。 In the courtyard； the shadows had grown surprisingly deep。 Guards were carrying torches out of the guardroom to light the bailey。
As he got out the door； Gaborn saw his mistake。 The great wooden gates to the Dedicates' Keep lay open； and Raj Ah ten's battle guard had just ridden in； men who even to the most casual observer could be seen to