"Lax? Not at all. If anything, she is too intelligent. There is little I can teach her of philosophy and the world. But given her intelligence, she may have talent to equal mine in other things."

Her father seemed to know exactly what Jorani meant. "Have you discussed this with her?" he asked, speaking of Ilsabet as if she were not present.

"I wished to speak with you first, and ask permission to begin her education. If you give it, I would like to start by bringing her to the battle site tomorrow to watch the executions."

"You think it necessary?"

"It is. And, yes, she is ready."

To reveal any bit of her excitement might make Ilsabet seem too young, too eager. So she listened carefully, her expression guarded.

"Do you want to come to the camp and see the carnage?" her father asked.

She nodded solemnly.

"Do you know the services Lord Jorani performs for me?"

She nodded again.

Baron Janosk stood, bent over Ilsabet, and kissed her forehead. Jorani followed him to the door, but when the scribe bowed, the baron waved him back impatiently. "As boys we wrestled one another," he said. "No need to be formal when there is no one here to notice."

He left, the hawks screeching at the sound of his boots on the stairs.

As soon as they were alone, Jorani turned to Ilsa-bet. "You said you know what I do for your father. Tell me what that is?"

She pointed to the center of the rug. "Beneath the carpet is a door that leads to a hidden room. You were in that room for days before father left for battle. I think you made him some elixir to drink that would make him stronger."

"And I gave him a powder as well, and instructions to have one of his soldiers go upwind of the rebel camp and let the powder loose into the air. It filled the rebels with fear and indecision. I made them easy to defeat."