overturned Illyra’s table. Though he felt the rage himself, he restrained
Thrusher. “Not now,” he whispered.
The Prince stepped between all of them with the sword. “I think you should have
this, Tempus. It’s too plain for me-but you won’t mind that, will you?”
The Hell-Hound examined the blade and set it aside without comment. “I see you
can control your man,” he said to Walegrin.
“As you cannot.” Walegrin tossed the Hound the boss Dubro had found. “Your men
left it behind when they stole my sister last night.” They were of a height,
Walegrin and Temp us, but it cost Walegrin to look into Tempus’ eyes and for
once he understood what it meant to be cursed, as Tempus was.
“Yes, the S’danzo. My men disliked the fortune she told for them. They bribed
some Downwind to frighten her. They don’t understand the Downwind yet. They
hadn’t intended her to be kidnapped, any more than they’d intended to get robbed
themselves. I’ve dealt with my men-and the Downwinders they hired. Your sister
is already back in the bazaar, Walegrin, a bit richer for her adventures and
off-limits to all Stepsons. No one guessed you were her brother-certain men are
assumed not to have family, you know.” Tempus leaned forward then, and spoke
only to Walegrin. “Tell me, is your sister worth believing?”
“I believe her.”
“Even when she rattles nonsense about invasions from the sea?”
“I believe her enough that I’m remaining in Sanctuary-against all my better
judgement.”
Tempus turned away to take up Walegrin’s sword. He adjusted the belt for his