:Ah. And, of course, the nobles of Karse, the wealthy merchants, the ranking Captains, and above all, the Voices of the Sunlord dress and live so very austerely,: came the unwelcome reminder.

“Well, you have been here some two weeks, sir,” Talamir said, his hazel eyes scrutinizing Alberich just as closely as Alberich was examining him. “I’m sure you have been wondering.”

“Wondering, yes,” Alberich replied, giving away nothing, conceding nothing, offering nothing. Talamir sighed.

:You could be more gracious.:

“Alberich—yes, we know what your name is—you must know that my Taver has been talking virtually nonstop to your Kantor, and what Kantor knows about you, so do I.” Talamir’s eyes became very penetrating. “I know very well that you have a good command of our tongue now, and furthermore, your Kantor can easily explain anything you don’t understand immediately. I should prefer not to spend this entire first interview fencing with you, if you please.”

Well, that gave him the opening he’d been looking for. “My Kantor, it is?” he asked resentfully. “And when was there asking on my part, for this Choosing, this so-called honor?”

Talamir shrugged. “You could be dead right now,” he pointed out. “Whether you consider it an honor or not, Kantor saved your life.”

“For which blessing, to serve my enemy, I am bound?” There was a sour taste in his mouth, and his stomach muscles were so tight as to make his cracked ribs ache in protest. He’d not only been kidnapped, he had been reduced to simple-mindedness with drugs—but now that he was himself again, he had no intention of rolling over like a cowed dog and licking the hands of his captors.

“I was not aware that Valdemar had personally done you harm,” said Talamir. “Nor was I aware that any citizen of Valdemar had hurt you. I was under the impression that everything untoward that had happened to you was the responsibility of the denizens of your own land. If you can point out to me who and what on this side of the Border has wronged you, I assure you it will be dealt with to your satisfaction.”

“Even if it Kantor is?” he asked, and looked Talamir straight in the eyes.

There was silence in his mind.

“Kantor.” Talamir gazed on him with astonishment. “Your Companion.”

“Who under false pretenses and a disguise attached himself to me. Who carried me off, who brought me here, where I would not have gone had I a choice been given. Who—perhaps?—had to do somewhat with my witch-sight coming so clear, and in front of a Voice?” He saw Talamir wince and felt his own mouth tighten in grim satisfaction. “Who therefore could the cause be, that the Voice to the Fires condemned me?”