"The men who attacked the princess' quarters," said Nevitta deliberately, "wore the harness of Kalgan." That hit Kieron like a physical blow ... hard. "_Kalgan!_ And you brought her _here_? You fool, Nevitta!" The old Valkyr nodded agreement. "Yes, Kieron. Fool is the proper word...." "No!" Alys spoke up imperiously. "It was my command that brought us here. I insisted." "By the Seven Hells! Why?" demanded Kieron. "Why here? You could have been safe on Valkyr! I know it was my order to bring you here, but after what happened...." "The princess would not hear of seeking safety, Kieron," said Nevitta. "When Kalgan proved its treachery by trying to assassinate her, she could think only of your danger here ... unwarned. She would risk her life to bring you this news, Kieron." Kieron turned to face the girl. She looked up at him, eyes bright, lips parted. "What could make a princess risk her life ..." Kieron began numbly. "Kieron...." The girl breathed his name softly. "I was so afraid for you." The Valkyr reached slowly for the clasp of her cloak and unfastened it. The heavy mantle dropped unnoticed to the flagstones. Alys stood, swaying slightly, parted lips inviting. Kieron watched the throbbing pulse in her white throat and felt his own pounding. He took a step toward her, his arms closing about her yielding suppleness. His mouth sought her lips. Unnoticed, Nevitta slipped from the antechamber and silently closed the door after him.... * * * * * Kieron stook before the arched window, staring out into the eternal, misty dusk of Kalgan, his heart heavy. Behind him, Alys lay on the low couch. Her bright hair lay in tumbled profusion about her face as she watched her lover at the window. Kieron turned to look at her, feeling the impact of her warm beauty. He began to pace the floor, wracking his brains for a lead to his next move in the subtle war of treachery and intrigue that had taken shape around him. He had ordered his men ready for attack, but for the moment there was little need for that kind of vigilance. What was needed was more information. Carefully, he marshalled what few facts he had at his disposal. The connection between Freka and the plotters in the Imperial City that he had suspected was proved at last by the attempt on Alys' life by men of Kalgan. The star-kings were being used to fight a battle not their own. But whose? Freka's ... or Ivane's? No matter which, they were being tricked into striking the Imperial Crown from Toran's head, and the gain to them and their people would be--more oppression. The treatment he, himself, had received in the Imperial Court made sense now. Landor sought to drive him into the arms of Freka's revolt. Only Alys had spared him.