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he apple； she thought； had fallen quite a bit farther from the tree than anyone could have guessed。 But that was no surprise； really。 It was just men； was what it was。 Swaggering； bragging men…exactly like little boys； when you got down to it； even the grown ones acting no smarter than young mooncalf Simon had been。 They didn't know how to deal with things； men didn't； and King Elias was no exception。
Take this madness with his brother。 Now； Rachel had never much liked Prince Josua。 He was a sight too clever and solemn for her； obviously one who thought himself pretty blessed smart。 But to think that he was a traitor…well； that was just foolishness and anyone could tell it。 Josua had been too bookish and high…minded for such nonsense； but what had his brother Elias done？ Gone dashing off to the north with an army； and through some trick pulled down Josua's castle at Naglimund and slaughtered and burned。 And why？ Some damned man's pride on King Elias' part。 Now a lot of Erkynlandish women were widows； the harvest was going badly； and all the Hayholt and its inhabitants were…Lord Usires pardon for her thinking it； but it was only the truth…going straight to Hell。
The back of the Nearulagh Gate loomed before her； its long shadow painting the walls on either side with darkness。 Quarreling birds； kites and ravens； fought over the few remaining scraps of the ten skeletal heads fixed on pikes atop the gate。
Rachel shuddered despite herself as she made the sign of the Tree。 This was something else that had changed。 Never in all the long years she had kept house for King John had there been such a show of cruelty as Ellas had made of these traitors。 They had all been beaten and quartered in Battle Square down in Erchester； before a restive and uneasy crowd。 Not that any of the executed nobles had been particularly popular…Baron Godwig； especially； was much hated for his ill…rule of Cellodshire…but everyone had sensed the wispiness of the king's accusations。 Godwig and the rest had gone to their deaths like men astounded； shaking their heads and protesting their innocence until the cudgels of the Erkynguards had smashed the life out of them。 Now their heads had stood above the Nearulagh Gate for a full two weeks while the carrion birds； like clever little sculptors； slowly brought the skulls to the surface。 Few of those who passed beneath them stared for long。 Most who looked up turned away quickly； as if they had glimpsed something forbidden instead of the abject public lesson the king desired。
Traitors； the king called them； and as traitors they had died。 Rachel thought they would be little missed； but still their deaths brought the fog of despair down a bit closer。
As Rachel hurried past with eyes averted； she was almost knocked down by a young squire sloshing through the muddy road leading a horse。 After she had scrambled to a position of safety against the outer wall； Rachel turned to see the riders pass。
They were all soldiers…all but one。 Where the armored men wore the green tunics of the king's Erkynguard； the other wore a robe of flaming scarlet； a black traveling cloak； and tall black boots。
Pryrates！ Rachel stiffened。 Where was that devil going with his honor guard of soldiers？
The priest seemed to float above his panions。 As the soldiers laughed and talked； Pryrates looked neither right or left； his hairless head rigid as a spearpomt； his black eyes fixed on the gate before him。
Things had truly begun to go wrong when the red priest arrived…as if Pryrates himself had put an evil spell on the Hayholt。 Rachel had even wondered for a while if Pryrates； whom she knew had not liked Morgenes； might have burned down the doctor's rooms。 Could a man of Mother Church do such a thing？ Could he kill innocent people…like her Simon… for a grudge？ But the rumors did say that the priest's father was a demon； his mother a witch。 Rachel made the sign of the Tree again； watching his proud back as the party ambled past。
Could one man bring evil down on everyone； she wondered？ And why？ Just to be doing the devil's work？ She looked around carefully； embarrassed； then spat in the mud to ward evil。 What did it matter？ There was nothing an old woman like her could do； was there？
She watched Pryrates and the pany of soidiers ride out through the Nearulagh Gate； then turned and began trudging toward the residences； thinking about curses and cold weather。
The late afternoon sun slanted in through the trees； making the thin leaves glow。 The forest mist had finally burned away。 A few birds trilled in the treetops。 Deornoth； feeling the pain in his head diminishing； stood up。
The wise woman Geloe had nursed Einskaldir's terrible wounds all morning before leaving him at last to the ministrations of Duchess Gutrun and Isorn。 The Rimmersman； feverish and raving while Geloe had applied poultices to the arrow…spites in his back and side； now lay quietly。 She could not say if he would live。
Geloe had labored the rest of the afternoon on the other members of the pany； treating Sangfugol's festering leg wound and the many injuries the rest of the party had suffered as well。 Her knowledge of healing herbs was wide and her pockets were well…stuffed with useful things。 She seemed certain that all except for the Rimmersman would be quickly improved。
The forest on this side of the hill…tunnel was not much different from that which they had just left； Deornoth thought…at least in looks。 The oaks and elders grew close here； too； and the ground was powdery with the remains of long…dead trees； but there was something different in the heart of it； some faint grace or inner liveliness； as if the air were lighter or the sun shone more warmly。 Of course； Deornoth realized； it might only be that he and the others in Prince Josua's party had lived another day longer than they had expected。
Geloe was sitting on a log with Prince Josua。 Deornoth started to approach； then hesitated； unsure of his wele。 Josua smiled wearily and waved him over。
〃e； Deornoth； sit down。 How is your head？〃
〃Sore； Highness。 〃
〃It was a cruel blow；〃 Josua said； nodding。
Geloe looked up and briefly surveyed Deornoth。 Earlier she had scanned the bloody wound in Deornoth's scalp where the tree limb had struck him； then pronounced it 〃not serious。 〃
〃Deornoth is my right hand；' Josua told her。 'It is good that he should hear all this； against the chance anything should happen to me。〃
Geloe shrugged。 〃Nothing I will speak of is a secret。 At least； not the kind we should keep from each other。〃 She turned for a moment to watch Leieth。 The child sat quietly in Vorzheva's lap； but her eyes were fixed on nothing visible； and no words or caresses from Vorzheva could arouse her attention。
〃Where do you think to go； Prince Josua？〃 Geloe said at last。 〃You have escaped the vengeance of the Norns； at least for a while。 Where will you go？〃
The prince frowned。 〃I have not thought of anything but winning our way to safety。 I suppose if this…〃 he waved his hand at the forest clearing； 〃is a place of refuge against the demons； as you say it is； we should stay here。〃
The witch woman shook he