EIGHTEEN
A persistent tapping on the door woke Zuleika. With no windows in the room, it was difficult to tell the time. If it was Vardan trying to enter, he could tap until his fingers fell off. He spoke of honour and of being nothing like his brother, but words were cheap. When a man sole into a girl's chamber by night to have his way with her, then he showed his true mettle. Zuleika had locked and warded the door, so the only way in was if she allowed him entrance.
"Who is it?" she asked.
"It's Inga and Greta, m'lady. We brought your breakfast and fresh clothes for your journey."
Zuleika thought she recognised the voice. "Did you find me in the snow?"
"That was me, m'lady. I needed help to carry you in, before I shooed the menfolk out so I could take off your wet things. Your beau
