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sauntered forward a willing pace himself. “ Juris macto ,” he said. “Just declare it, Warner, and we can settle this.”

    Isana spun to face Kord, meeting his eyes squarely. “Not in my courtyard you won’t.”

    Bittan, behind Kord, let out a rough laugh and stepped forward, toward Isana. “Well, well,” he said. “What we got here? Another little hold whore standing up for whore Heddy?”

    “Bittan,” Kord growled, in warning.

    Isana narrowed her eyes at Bittan. The young man’s confidence, arrogance, and a sickening rush of his lust whirled over her like a foul, greasy smoke. She watched him approach, arrogantly smiling as he eyed her, from her bare feet to her long braid. The idiot evidently did not know her by sight.

    “Going bad early,” Bittan commented. “But I bet you’d be good for a tumble.” He reached out a hand to touch Isana’s face.

    Isana let him touch her for a moment, felt the desperate, arrogant need of the young man to prove himself in his own eyes. She reached up and seized his wrist and then said, voice cold, “Rill. Deal with this slive.”

    Bittan abruptly convulsed and threw himself backward onto the ground. He let out a strangled scream that cut off halfway through, as clear, foaming water burst from his mouth. He thrashed on the courtyard stones in a frantic tangle of flailing limbs. His eyes bulged, and he tried to scream again, nothing but water flooding from his mouth and nose.

    Kord’s other son rushed to his fallen brother, and Kord himself rolled forward a step with an angry snarl. “Bitch,” he growled. The earth bulged beneath him, as though preparing to lash forward.

    “Go ahead, Kord,” Isana said, her voice icy. “But before you do, I should remind you that you are in Bernard-holt, now. And you may not challenge me to the juris macto” She smiled at him, as sweet and venomous as she could manage. “I’m not a Stead-holder.”

    “I can still kill you, Isana,” Kord said.

    “You could,” Isana replied. “But then, I wouldn’t be able to call Rill off of your boy there, would I?”

    “And what if I could use one less mouth to feed?” Kord answered her, showing her his teeth.

    “In that case,” she said, “I hope you’re ready to kill everyone here. Because you won’t get away with cold murder, Stead-holder Kord. I don’t care how far we are from the First Lord’s justice—kill me, and there won’t be a place in the Realm where you can hide.”

    Isana promptly turned to Warner and snapped, “Wipe that smile off your face, Stead-holder. What kind of behavior is this to show to my holders, and their children ?” She stalked toward Warner with a scowl twisting her features. “I’ll have your word that you won’t engage in this idiocy again while you’re a guest in my home.”

    “Isana,” Warner protested, he and his sons still staring at Kord and his own brood, “that animal on the ground is the one who raped my daughter.”

    “Papa,” Heddy sobbed, tugging at Warner’s sleeve. “Papa, please.”

    “Your word , Warner,” Isana snapped. “Or I’ll rule against you in the truth-find right here and now.”

    Warner’s gaze snapped to Isana, and she felt his sudden shock and surprise. “But Isana—”

    “I don’t care . You can’t behave this way in my home, Warner, and my brother isn’t here to knock sense into your fool head. Your word. No more of this duel nonsense. No more fighting in Bernard-holt.”

    Warner stared at her for a moment. Isana felt the man’s dismay, his anger, his helpless frustration. His gaze wavered and went to his daughter, and he softened, almost visibly. “All right,” he said, quietly. “My word. For all of us. We’ll start nothing.”

    Isana whirled back toward Kord, stalking toward the young man still choking on the ground, vomiting water. She brushed roughly passed the older of Kord’s sons (Aric was his name, she thought), and reached down to lay her hand on Bittan’s