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gh。 It's north and west of the city。〃 He paused and looked away again。 They waited。
〃Papa killed someone；〃 Diego said。 〃I think the fighting is stopping。〃
Ibero swallowed。 It was difficult with this child。 It was almost impossibly difficult。 He looked closely at Diego。 The boy seemed calm； a little distracted； but it was impossible to see from his face that he was registering events unimaginably far away。 And Ibero had no doubt…not after so many trials…that Diego was reporting them truly。
Fernan had none of that calm just now。 Grey eyes gleaming； he stood up。 〃I'll bet you anything this has to do with Jalona；〃 he said。 〃They were sending a parias party； remember？〃
〃Your father wouldn't attack other Jaddites for the infidels；〃 Ibero said quickly。
〃Of course he would！ He's a mercenary； he's being paid by Ragosa。 The only promise he made was not to e with an army into Valledo； remember？〃 Fernan looked confidently from Ibero to Diego。 His whole being was afire now； charged with energy。
And it was Ibero's task…as tutor； guardian； spiritual counsellor…to somehow control and channel that force。 He looked at the two boys； one feverish with excitement； the other seeming a little unfocused； not altogether present； and he surrendered yet again。
〃You are both going to be useless for the rest of the morning； I can see that much。〃 He shook his head darkly。 〃Very well； you are released。〃 Fernan whooped： a child again； not a mander…in…waiting。 Diego hastily stood up。 Ibero had been known to change his mind。
〃One condition；〃 the cleric added sternly。 〃You will spend time with the maps in the library this afternoon。 Tomorrow morning I am going to have you mark the cities of Al…Rassan for me。 Major ones； smaller ones。 This matters。 I want you to know them。 You are your father's heirs and his pride。〃
〃Done；〃 said Fernan。 Diego just grinned。
〃Then go；〃 said Ibero。 And watched them hurtle past him and down the ladder。 He smiled in spite of himself。 They were good boys； both of them； and he was a kindly person。
He was also a devout man； and a thoughtful one。
He knew…who in Valledo did not； by now？…of the holy war being launched this ing spring from Batiara； an armada of ships sailing for the eastern homelands of the infidels。 He knew of the presence in Esteren； as a guest of the king and queen； of one of the highest of the clerics of Ferrieres； e to preach a war of the three kingdoms of Esperana against Al…Rassan。 The Reconquest。 Was it truly to e now； in their lifetime； after so many hundreds of years？
It was a war every devout man in the peninsula was duty…bound to support and succor with all his being。 And how much more did that apply to the clerics of holy Jad？
Sitting alone in the straw of the barn loft； listening to the milk cows plaining below him； Ibero the cleric of Rancho Belmonte began a hard wrestling match within his soul。 He had been with this family most of his life。 He loved them all with a fierce； enduring passion。
He loved and feared his god with all his heart。
He remained up there； thinking； for a long time； but when he finally came down the ladder his expression was calm and his tread firm。
He went directly to his own chamber beside the chapel and took parchment and quill and ink and posed then； carefully； a letter to the High Cleric Geraud de Chervalles at the king's palace in Esteren； writing in the name of Jad and humbly setting forth certain unusual circumstances as he understood them。
〃When I sleep；〃 said Abir ibn Tarif； 〃it feels as if I still have my leg。 In my dreams I put my hand down to my knee； and I wake up； because it isn't there。〃 He was reporting it； not plaining。 He was not a man who plained。
Jehane； changing the dressing on his wound； nodded her head。 〃I told you that might happen。 You feel tingling； pain； as if the leg were still attached？〃
〃That is it；〃 Abir said。 Then； stoutly； 〃The pain is not so great； mind you。〃
She smiled at him； and across the infirmary bed at his brother； who was always present when she visited。 〃A lesser man would not say that；〃 she murmured。 Abir looked pleased。 She liked both of them； these sons of an outlaw chieftain； hostages in Ragosa for the winter。 They were gentler men than she might have expected。
Idar； who had developed an attachment to her； had been telling stories through the winter of Arbastro and their father's courage and cunning。 Jehane was a good listener； and sometimes heard more than the teller intended。 Physicians learned to do that。
She had wondered before about the price paid by the sons of great men。 This winter； with Idar and Abir； she addressed the question again。 Could such children move out from under that huge shadow into their own manhood？ She thought of Almalik II of Cartada； son of the Lion； of the three sons of King Sancho the Fat of Esperana； indeed； of Rodrigo Belmonte's two young boys。
She considered whether the same challenge confronted a daughter。 She decided it didn't； not in the same way。 She wasn't in petition with her father； she was only trying； as best she could； to be worthy of his teaching and his example； deserving of the flask she carried as heir to his reputation。
She finished with Abir's dressing。 The wound had healed well。 She was pleased； and a little proud。 She thought her father would have approved。 She'd written to him soon after their return to Ragosa。 There were always some hardy travellers who could carry messages back and forth through the winter pass； though not swiftly。 Her mother's neat handwriting had conveyed Ishak's reply： This will be too late to be useful； but in cases when you operate in the field you must watch even more carefully for the green discharge。 Press the skin near the wound and listen for a crackling sound。
She had known about this。 Such a sound meant death； unless she cut again； even higher…and few men survived that。 But Abir ibn Tarif's wound did not turn green and his endurance was strong。 His brother seldom left his side and the men of Rodrigo's pany seemed to have taken a collective liking to the sons of ibn Hassan。 Abir did not lack for visitors。 Once； when Jehane had e to attend upon him； she caught a lingering trace of the scent favored by the women of a certain neighborhood。
She had sniffed the air elaborately and tsked her disapproval。 Idar laughed； Abir looked shamefaced。 He was well on the road to recovery by then； however； and secretly Jehane was pleased。 The presence of physical desire； Ser Rezzoni had taught； was one of the clearest signs of returning good health after surgery。
She checked the fitting of the new dressing a last time and stepped back。 〃Has he been practicing？〃 she asked Idar。
〃Not enough；〃 the older of the brothers replied。 〃He is lazy； I told you。〃 Abir swore in quick protest； then apologized even more quickly。
This was a game； in fact。 If he wasn't watched carefully； Abir was likely to push himself to exhaustion in his efforts to learn how to get about with the shoulder sticks Velaz had fashioned for him。
Jehane grinned at both of them。 〃Tomorrow morning；〃 she said to her patient。 〃It looks very good； though。 By the end of