Now she looked startled. "What do you mean?"

"If it were only a bite that spread the wolf's blood sickness, werewolves might not be so shunned. Legends and tavern stories aside, a werewolf so lost to the moon-madness he becomes a wanton murderer is relatively rare. Most can control their urges except at Saya's brightest cycles. Which isn't to say they aren't dangerous. They are certainly that." Carala clucked her tongue but didn't argue. "The first uncontrollable change all too often ends in a human death. That yours did not speaks to your powerful will. You remember everything that occurred during your time in the wolf shape?"

"Yes," she said softly. "And thank you."

"For what?"

"My powerful will, you said. I didn't think -- "

"Because you engaged in congress with Tacen."

"Because I made love with him, yes." Anger flickered in her eyes. "Because I fucked him."

Ammas's ears were far from virginal, but to hear that word from the princess's mouth was faintly shocking. After a pause where the word seemed to hang in the air, Ammas cleared his throat. "Well, that is something you should stop thinking, highness. Greater and more powerful men and women than you have succumbed to a werewolf's wiles. Forgive me for saying so, but it seems to me your life was a sheltered one."

"I do not deny that."

"That may be why he chose you. Not because he sensed any weakness in your mind or spirit. Had he sensed weakness, he would likely see you more as prey than a potential mate."

Carala did not respond for a long moment. Finally she simply changed the subject. "Why do you think the bite didn't infect me?"

"Because the act of physical congress can spread the wolf's blood sickness. It is a less reliable means of infection, but a common one. It is through such acts that the werewolf clans that used to roam the western forests and tundra came to be."

"I had never heard this. Not once. Are you sure?"

"Your highness, I have studied cursewright lore for over thirty years. Yes, I am very sure."

A little abashed, she nodded. "Then why did he bite me?"

"The bite is universally infectious. When applied to an infected werewolf who has never changed, it instills a certain mental pliancy in the victim. It's rare, and behavior generally only seen in organized groups of werewolves wish to grow their numbers." Ammas frowned. "That Tacen did so is the only really vexing thing about your case."

"Mental pliancy?" She had not heard much beyond that. "He controlled me?"

Ammas hesitated. "I would say you were much more suggestible than you might otherwise be."

Carala seemed satisfied -- indeed, relieved -- by this. "When do you think I was infected?"

"When did you first notice these heightened senses? The guardsman, your mother's perfume?"

Carala considered. "The first day after that night in the Tower. The very next day." She looked down. "I thought I was just . . . excited. Thrilled. To have been with a man for the first time."

"That was no doubt part of it. But not all. In my opinion it was on that night you were infected. Did these senses subside before you were bitten?"

"Somewhat. I could stand to be near my father again."

Ammas bit back a bitter laugh. "That was your body adjusting to the wolf's blood. You still can sense such things, you simply block them out to function. Those senses will return. It's something I'm sure Tacen or this man in Gallowsport would have taught you, had he absconded with you."

"My father and Varallo Thray spoke of a cursewright in Gallowsport. Could this man be one?"

Ammas snorted. "While I would dearly love to find out who Tacen meant, I cannot imagine someone from my fellowship assisting a werewolf in seducing innocents. We're not so fallen as that."

"Perhaps you are not."

"That sounded remarkably like a compliment, highness."

Carala smiled a little. The princess had soft, small lips, delicate rather than full. Ammas found himself disconcerted by her smile's prettiness. "If you wish to interpret it that way."

"Then I shall." Ammas was blushing a bit himself now, and cleared his throat as he rolled up the lunar manifest. Now came the difficult part.

"Highness, if you prove to be infected, while the cure is simple -- "

"Simple?" This appeared to have startled her more than anything.

"Oh yes. Its only difficulty is in the dosage, which is why a precise sense of when you were infected is desirable."

Carala stammered. "I thought it was incurable. That it took the gods' touch, a miracle, if that is even possible."

"Merciful gods, highness, not at all. There are certain incurable strains, but yours isn't one of them. That much I am quite sure of, unless you've left out some very significant facts."

Unsurprisingly, Carala was not comforted by this. The mere mention of incurable strains had badly frightened her. "Like what?"

Ammas's manner grew more serious, reminding himself that this woman, while clearly intelligent, hadn't his experience in these matters. "Forgive my treating your condition lightly. I had forgotten how much of the things I learned in my youth have been lost."

"Just tell me. Please."

"Did Tacen conduct any sort of ritual? Perhaps something blasphemous? Something that offended the gods?"

"There was a circle of candles . . . "

"Did he write on your body in strange languages, or symbols you did not recognize?"

"No." Her momentary relief quickly evaporated. "Unless -- while I was asleep -- "

Ammas shook his head. "The rituals I speak of do not work on the unconscious. And such marks would not fade."

"He spoke insultingly of the gods -- "

"It would be much more than that." Quite accidentally he had given the poor woman a new fear, and he needed to kill it in its crib. "Tacen seems to have come from a group of his kind. I can think of no other reason he was determined not only to infect you but control you. It is not at all surprising that in their isolation and resentment of humankind, they would turn to inhuman gods. A blasphemous comment does not a ritual make."

Slowly, Carala's face began to show relief. "What other facts might I have left out?"

Ammas allowed a small grin. "None, unless your parents are werewolves too."

Carala actually laughed. "Gods, no."

Ammas nodded. "I suspected not. What did you feel on your second change?"

Her smile faltered. "You knew I changed again?"

"We just consulted the course of the moons since your infection, highness. There was a single night since you left Talinara where Saya was bright enough to compel your change."

"I . . . yes."

"And how did you react that night?"

"I was near a village on the shore of Lake Baithe."

"So a little less than halfway between here and Talinara."

"Yes."

"And what did you feel?"

"I -- I felt -- pleasure -- " She was as red as Ammas had yet seen her. "Intense pleasure. As when -- Tacen -- "

Ammas held up a hand. "That it felt pleasurable is all I need know, highness." Her sigh of relief was a visible thing. "Pure pleasure? No pain whatsoever?"

Carala considered this, then shook her head. "No, not pure. My teeth ached all day, from around noontide. Toward nightfall my spine began to ache as well. I thought perhaps I had injured myself. My horse wasn't very high quality."

Ammas nodded. So far, except for Tacen's peculiar fixation on the moon and the double infection of congress and bite, the princess's case was a textbook one. "Did you hunt that night?"

Carala said nothing.

"Your highness?"

"I -- " She looked down, shamefaced.

Ammas's tone was polite. "If you did it wouldn't shock me, highness."

"Then -- yes." Carala still could not meet his eyes. "A -- a hare."

"I imagine it tasted quite good, if any of the texts I've studied were correct."

Her eyes glared up at him. "You mock me."

Ammas shook his head. "No. I tell you that what you did and what you felt is exactly what I expect an infected werewolf of your duration to feel. I still must perform the diagnosis, but I no longer doubt the wolf's blood sickness is in your body."