The prince rose from his throne and came down, the dark shining eyes fixed on Arcolin’s face. “It is that even mountains move,” he said. He bowed stiffly. “Prince to prince: greeting.”

Arcolin bowed again. “Greeting.”

“You care for your kapristin.”

“I do.”

“It may be the Giver of Law teach you … it may be the Giver of Law use you to punish oathbreakers.” While Arcolin puzzled his way through that, the prince closed his eyes a long moment, then opened them.

“For this my kapristin say kapristinya to your kapristin. It is prince speaking Law.”

“It is prince speaking Law,” all the other gnomes said.

Arcolin wondered if he should repeat the formula when Aldonfulk was already a known entity. “It is Aldonfulk prince speaking Law, and it is I learning,” he said.

“This one,” the prince said, looking at Dattur. “This one has not had chance to make proper clothes?”

“It is so,” Arcolin said.

“Without incurring debt, as true gift to new prince, I would offer for your teacher of Law a suit of clothes.”

Arcolin bowed. “It is a gift I would be honored to accept for him.”

“Then let him go, and you and I will sit to refreshment and I would ask you of the men of the south, what we need to know for the safety of kapristin.”

They brought a human-size chair for Arcolin, and a chair that height with a footstool for their prince. A flagon was set before them, and a measure of salt; Arcolin took out the loaf he had thought to bring for such a possibility and his own travel cup. The prince nodded at this. “Indeed, prince, you are not unacquainted with our courtesies. It speaks well of your Law-teacher.” The servant—or assistant—set down a cup for the prince and poured a measure of liquid into it. In that light, Arcolin was not sure what it was, only that it was not water. With a knife the servant divided the loaf and sprinkled salt on each cut side. Arcolin pushed the piece nearer himself to the far side, and the prince did the same. Then, following the prince’s lead, he picked up his portion, took a bite, and then sipped the liquid in the cup, a tart wine.

“It is good wine,” Arcolin said.

“It is good bread,” the prince said. “May honest salt bring savor to our tongues and fair exchange to our hearts, by the Law. And now, if you please—what news?”

Arcolin told him what he had learned in the past two summers and who he thought was behind it.

“This necklace,” the prince said. “Do you have a description?”

“Yes, though I have not seen it myself. Blue and white stones, quite large. I was told that no one knows their origin—kapristi, hakken, Sinyi, and humans have all been asked, and none know.”

“Has any asked Drakon?” the prince asked, using a word close enough to Common.