Koven nodded. "I came to find out how Bruschloss organized the attacks on South, through your ruler." The Hog's name washed the light of truth for a moment into her eyes, and Koven pressed on, sure. "We didn't know how the plans for attack were circulated on this continent. But you've been giving the plans, out there in the ring. That solo dance had a meaning."
"Fertility ..." she began.
"Oh, no. Before and after it, yes. But the women paid no attention to your solo dance. The men did. They were attentive. They were waiting for and receiving orders, weren't they? Orders your ruler had to give through a dance, because Spotwood was here, and you couldn't dare give them in a way he might understand."
"You are wrong."
Koven stepped forward and pressed the pistol against Chemin's breast. In the badly-lit tent he could still see the flesh of that breast harden. "Am I wrong?"
A tiny tongue caressed her lips in anxiety. "What are you going to do with me?"
"Do you have more to tell them?"
"No, I...."
"Tell the truth." The pistol muzzle ground an ugly white pit in her flesh.
"Yes, I have more."