‘Yes, First Adviser. But the queen said—’

‘You spoke to the queen, rather than come directly to me?’ Now Peithon was truly furious.

‘She asked me about the progress on the wall,’ the overseer protested.

‘Everything comes by me,’ Peithon spat. ‘Everything. If you circumvent my authority again I will have you thrown out of the city. Your wife and children will go with you, and you will find yourself without a home, looking for work in a place where you have no friends.’

‘Yes, First Adviser,’ the overseer said mournfully.

‘Good. Now get out.’

Peithon scowled at the overseer as he left, but then smoothed his expression and turned to face the king’s steward.

‘Alastor, my friend. What can I do for you?’

‘Lord, you said you wanted to know about all messages that arrive for the king?’

‘I do.’

‘The silver . . . ?’

Peithon’s smile tightened. ‘Is your news worth silver?’

‘It is.’

‘Follow me.’ He led the king’s steward into the villa’s interior and retrieved a single coin from the ornate wooden box on a side table. He offered it, but when the steward reached out he drew back his hand. ‘The news?’

‘The news is from Phalesia. It is old, but we are only getting it now. The Ilean warship that was damaged in the earthquake . . .’

‘Yes, yes.’

‘Prior to the quake, as part of a larger fleet, the Ileans sacked three towns on the isle of Orius. They burned the houses, looted the temples, and raped the women.’

Peithon rubbed his chin as he murmured. ‘Then, damaged in the tremor, they had the nerve to ask Phalesia for help.’

‘The reports have convinced the Assembly. Despite the peace faction, they are preparing for war.’

Peithon mused, pondering these events, thinking about how it affected Xanthos and himself.

‘The silver?’

‘Here.’ Peithon handed out the coin. ‘You have done well. Keep this up and I will see you prosper. My position as master of trade is a very lucrative one. I am sure you understand.’

The steward hesitated. ‘I have more news. But this is worth more than one silver. It involves you.’

Peithon frowned. ‘How much?’

‘Five silver.’

‘If it isn’t as important as you say . . .’

‘Trust me, you will find it so.’

Peithon returned to the moneybox and counted out five silver coins, each bearing the impression of the eagle of Phalesia.

‘Lord, I overheard the queen bringing up uncertainties regarding the payments from the king’s treasury to the workers on the new harbor wall.’

Peithon kept his face carefully smooth, hiding his emotions. ‘Go on.’

‘It was difficult to hear. She said she has a witness, a merchant, who will prove the validity of what she says.’

Fear clenched his stomach but all he did was murmur. ‘Who is the witness?’

‘I do not know. The king saw me nearby and asked me to leave.’