Aesil M’dierra, the only woman commanding a mercenary company, stirred her sib and then sipped it, eyeing him over the rim of the mug. Arcolin hoped for her assessment of the freelance mercenaries hanging around the hire-sword hall. He had a short list of possible captains.

“What have you heard?” Arcolin said, not answering. M’dierra, he knew, would expect some verbal sparring before an answer she could trust.

“The moneychangers’ courier, some ten days ago. The one who brings the current exchange rate to the Guild League cities.”

“Bannack?”

“That’s the one. My senior captain buys him dinner and drinks, and we get the news from the north.”

“So,” Arcolin said, in a joking voice, “what wild story did Bannack hand you?”

“Kieri Phelan’s an elf king’s son and he’s off to some elvenhome kingdom to be king of the elves. He was stolen away at birth and hidden in a castle—locations vary from across the sea to here in Aarenis.” She took another swallow of sib. “I don’t believe that; elves can find elves, and anyway he doesn’t look like an elf. That story might work over the mountains, but here, no. Kieri is not an elf and though he could be a king’s son I can’t imagine whose.”

“Interesting,” Arcolin said. “Always helps to know what rumors are running.”

“Fast horses aren’t the strongest,” M’dierra said. “Now are you going to tell me, or do I have to buy you a meal and pretend to admire your handsome face?”

Arcolin laughed. “Let’s share a meal. I’ll tell you about Kieri and then ask your opinion of some men I’m thinking of hiring as captains.”

“Well enough, but I must reassure my anxious employers that I’m not switching sides just because I’m seen dining with you. Get us one of the side rooms at the Golden Fish, for two full glasses from now.”

Arcolin nodded and she rose, a woman near the Duke’s age, dark-haired, tall, lithe, though he noted she moved a little more stiffly than she had a few years before. On the way out of the inn’s common room, she signaled two Golden Company soldiers, her escort.

His own employer’s agent, across the room, saw her leave and came to Arcolin. “What did she say? Who are you hiring?”

“I don’t know yet,” Arcolin said. “It was just a cup of sib; we’re having dinner to discuss business. Speaking of which—” He rubbed thumb and fingers together.

“Oh. Well, I haven’t had time to see the bankers today; tomorrow will do, won’t it?”

“On arrival in Valdaire,” Arcolin said, trying for Kieri’s tone.

“But the banks—you don’t want to wander around with a sack of gold.”

“On arrival,” Arcolin said. “And we arrived before noon.”

Grumbling, the agent admitted that he did, indeed, have that part of their payment; Arcolin went with him to the Golden Fish, not really surprised the agent was staying at such an expensive inn. On the way, he told Jamis, one of his escort, to fetch a pack mule.