Dattur spread his hands. “I do not know. Friendship between human and kapristi … is very rare. Alliance is possible. Ill intent, however, is against the Law unless wrong has been done. It may be only that he wants to know and understand how you came to be a prince of kapristi. And know that he may send—may have sent—one of his own to the north to find out what he can.”

Arcolin scrubbed at his head as if he could push his thoughts into order. “It is more complicated than I thought, and I already knew it was complicated. I certainly did not intend to cause trouble with other gnome princes.”

“You did not … but the situation would be … bothering. Annoying, even. It does not happen before.”

“You are coming with me—will it bother you to be underground in a different princedom?”

“No, my prince. It is hard if kteknik, but you declared me not kteknik and gave me cloth of your choice to clothe myself. If it was not kapristi-made, it was still the right cloth to you. So I told him, and so I will tell the prince.”

“I am not sure my gnomish is good enough to follow everything a prince might say, and answer as I should.”

“I will help, my prince. And should it be necessary, I will work the stone that is not my stone, though they will protest loudly.”

“What is this stone, then?” Arcolin asked.

Dattur ran his fingers over it. “It’s a seal-stone. It is the prince’s seal, stone from his stone-mass, that certifies who he is. It may also be a key, but that we may find out from his messenger tomorrow.”

The messenger arrived promptly at noon. Arcolin and Dattur were waiting at the gate when he walked up and bowed stiffly. He spoke Common fairly well. “You were able to read what my prince wrote?”

“Yes,” Arcolin said. “With some help.”

“And what answer do you return?”

“I cannot come at once,” Arcolin said. “I have appointments made that must be kept. But I accept Aldonfulk’s invitation to meet with your prince in his hall.”

“It is well,” the messenger said.

A few days later, Arcolin sent his escort ahead to cross the pass alone. “I am delayed here. Await me at Fiveway,” he said, handing over a letter pouch for a courier. “A royal courier might be waiting; if so, hand this over.”

“But sir—we’re supposed to be your escort.”

“And you will be, from Fiveway north.”

“But sir, who will be your escort to Fiveway?”

“I can always find someone safe to travel with that far. After all, once over the divide, we’re in gnome territory almost all the way to Fiveway. Brigands don’t last long there.” He grinned at them. “I don’t know exactly how long my business here will be, but do not worry.”