The rest of the day’s patrol passed without anything but the usual—the cohort intervened in a stoppage when one trader’s third wagon dropped a wheel and others tried to swerve around it. Teamsters yelled at one another about precedence, traffic stacked up behind … until the hundred and three armed men, plus two very determined captains, got everyone back in line and moving again—albeit more slowly. Burek had a tensquad unload the wagon and guard its contents while the trader’s own people mounted the spare wheel Guild League law required each trader to carry. Arcolin ordered all pedestrians and riders to the side paths and then alternated the traffic flow—two northbound, two southbound. He sent another tensquad back down the road in each direction to slow oncoming traffic and tell them to maintain their intervals and a courier to Fossnir. Anyone whose vehicle broke down on the road was assumed to be overloaded or lacking maintenance and due a fine; Fossnir would send out an official to assess it.

In camp that evening, Arcolin told Burek what he’d heard.

“That would be Filis,” Burek said. “The one who was angry about the Count offering me the family name.”

“Angry enough to turn traitor to his family?”

“I don’t know,” Burek said. “They told me he was the family hothead, but hothead doesn’t mean cold heart. And if it’s true that he was riding alone back and forth to Cortes Cilwan, it’s just as likely that Alured’s agents captured him.”

“But he’s bound to know important family secrets.”

“Yes. And Alured would want them. We can hope he’s just lying out somewhere with a broken leg, unable to get to help, and they find him quickly.”

“Dead would be better than Alured’s captive,” Arcolin said, remembering what he’d seen in the Immer port cities after Siniava’s defeat. Burek stared at him. “I am serious,” Arcolin said. “I know what he does to prisoners.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Lyonya

As time passed and no more obvious dangers threatened, Kieri decided to visit Tolmaric’s domain and see for himself how the work on the roads and the port was progressing. Arian stayed behind, for the summer heat tired her more than usual, though her pregnancy scarcely showed. “But are you well enough I can leave?” Kieri asked.

“I am well,” she said. “It is, I’m informed by every Sier’s wife in Chaya and your uncle Amrothlin, a predictable effect of half-elven pregnancy at this stage, and I am advised to be very glad it is so early, and to eat the proper foods. Though not all agree on what those are.” She laughed then. “Go, and do not worry.”

“I cannot help worrying, but couriers will keep the dust in the air between us. Do not fail to send word daily.”

“Of course,” Arian said.