The Secret Face — Richard Watkins

Francois Cassel returned to Tumeroh after twelve months exile: ‘What are you going to do?’ Antroc asked. ‘The only thing I can do,’ Francois replied. ‘I shall honour my sister’s wedding.’ ‘Francois!’ Kalan exclaimed. ‘How could you be so stupid? Why would I want to become a servant to queen in Tumeroh, when I can be a princess in Lendlec?’ ‘E talig grenug,’ Guthel de Voe said. ‘Directly translated, it means, the face is secret.’ ‘Klen de talig!’ the boy screamed. A knotted cored was dropped over the boy’s head. The scream was cut off in an instant. ‘’He was going to light a signal lamp,’ Nemantha said. She cut the leather string and pulled the purse of silver from around the dead man’s neck. ‘I believe you,’ the high priest said. Í believe you have found The Secret Face.’ Nemantha put her arm around Francois’ neck, drew him close to her and kissed him firmly on the lips. ‘Be careful,’ she whispered.