"Stop it," ordered Pasco. "That baby would've come easy without anyone's help. There was a temple midwife with her the whole time."

"And what was a temple birth-mage doing walking by the fishing village: at just the right moment?" argued Osa.

“I'll bet you a copper crescent my dancing for fish don't do a whisper of good, " Pasco told his friend.

The other boy winced. "That's too much like ill-wishing," he said, "We need the fish, Pasco. We need 'em. bad."

I'm not ill-wishing," retorted Pasco, offering some of his bread. Osa took a piece. "I just never heard of a dance: that brought fish into nets before."

"Gran says it's an old one," Osa, said doggedly. "She's gonna teach it to you. There's a song to go with it and everything. You'll see."

Pasco shrugged, and ate his breakfast in silence.

Despite the early hour, there were people about as the duke's party rode east on Harbor Street, past Summersea's famed wharves. How the word got ahead of them Sandry couldn't guess, but some of those who started their day before dawn gathered along the way to greet their duke. Sailors, washerwomen, draymen—their ea ger looks and open smiles showed how glad they were to see Duke Vedris up and about. Sandry had meant to turn back once they reached Long Wharf but, looking ahead, she could see more of the locals emerging from ships and warehouses to get a look at him.

Cat dirt, she thought, vexed. She didn't want him to do too much today, after four weeks in bed and two weeks confined to his palace. At the same time she knew his people had been frightened by his illness. They wanted to reassure themselves that he was all right. One of the things he'd mentioned so often in their talks since his heart attack was the need to keep a realm stable. People who thought it might all go to pieces at any minute tended to do foolish things, like pull their money from the banks, which would make them collapse, or plot to set a new, stronger ruler on the throne.