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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 next week I expect you can leave this place and go live with your brother。〃 She paused a moment； for effect。 〃It will surely save you money on bribes here； when you have pany after dark。〃
Idar laughed again。 Abir turned red。 Jehane gave his shoulder a pat and turned to leave。
Rodrigo Belmonte； booted and cloaked； leather hat in one hand； was standing by the fire on the far side of the room。 From the expression on his face she knew something had happened。 Her heart thumped。
〃What is it？〃 she said quickly。 〃My parents？〃
He shook his head。 〃No； no。 Nothing to do with them； Jehane。 But there are tidings you ought to know。〃
He crossed towards her。 Velaz appeared from behind the screen where he made his salves and tinctures。
Jehane straightened her shoulders and held herself very still。
Rodrigo said； 〃I am presuming in a way； but you are； for the moment； still my pany physician； and I wanted you to hear this from me。〃
She blinked。 For the moment？
He said； 〃Word has just e from the southern coast； one of the last ships in from the east。 It seems a great army from several Jaddite lands has gathered in Batiara this winter； preparing to sail to Ammuz and Soriyya in the spring。〃
Jehane bit her lip。 Very large news indeed； but 。。。
〃This is a holy army；〃 Rodrigo said。 His face was grim。 〃Or so they call themselves。 It seems that earlier this autumn several panies attacked and destroyed Sorenica。 They set fire to the city and put the inhabitants to the sword。 All of them； we are told。 Jehane； Velaz； I am so sorry。〃
Sorenica。
Mild； starry nights in winter。 Spring evenings； years ago。 Wine in the torchlit garden of her kinfolk。 Flowers everywhere； and the breeze from the sea。 Sorenica。 The most beautiful sanctuary of the god and his sisters that Jehane had ever seen。 The Kindath High Priest with his sweet； laden voice intoning the liturgy of the doubled full moons。 White and blue candles burning in every niche that night。 So many people gathered； a sense of peace； of calm； of a home for the Wanderers。 A choir singing； then more music after； in the winding torchlit streets outside the sanctuary； beneath the round； holy moons。
Sorenica。 Bright city on the ocean with its vineyards above。 Given to the Kindath long ago for service to the lords of Batiara。 A place to call their own in a hostile world。
To the sword。 An end of music。 Trampled flowers。 Children？
〃All of them？〃 she asked in a faint voice。
〃So we have been told；〃 Rodrigo said。 He drew a breath。 〃What can I say； Jehane？ You said you could not trust the Sons of Jad。 I told you that you could。 This makes a liar of me。〃
She could see genuine distress in the wide…set grey eyes。 He would have hurried to find her as soon as he heard the tidings。 There would be an emissary from court waiting at her home； or ing here even now。 Mazur would have sent。 Shared faith； shared grief。 Should it not have been another Kindath who told her this？ She could not answer that。 Something seemed to have shut dow