It wasn't as though she wanted her mother's keys, nor her mother's life that went with them. And that he had handed back for permanent safekeeping not to his sister, but to good, old, honest dy Ferrej. Her mother's keys, which Ista had collected and held, then turned over to her older brother along with all the other papers and inv entories and instructions that a great lady's death entailed. The keys of the castle and keep glinted from the belt at his stout waist. Faithful dy Ferrej, who had served the late Dowager Provincara for all the last two decades of her long residence here in Valenda. Her earnest brother, the provincar of Baocia, and his family and retinue were last of the many to leave, two full weeks after the divines had completed the funeral rites and ceremonies of the interment.ĭy Baocia was still talking soberly to the castle warder, Ser dy Ferrej, who walked at his stirrup, grave face upturned, listening to the stream, no doubt, of final instructions. Their horses' hooves scraped on the old cobblestones, and their good-byes echoed in the portal's vaulting. ISTA LEANED FORWARD BETWEEN THE CRENELLATIONS ATOP THE gate tower, the stone gritty beneath her pale hands, and watched in numb exhaustion as the final mourning party cleared the castle gate below. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.Ġ3 04 05 06 07 JTCIRRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Special Markets Department, HarperCollins Publishers Inc., HarperCollins books may be purchased for educational,īusiness, or sales promotional use. Publishers Inc., 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022. Without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied Of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever Copyright ® 2003 by Lois McMaster Bujold.Īll rights reserved.
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