“And a Marshal’s attendance, we understand,” one of them said.

“Indeed so. Some of those swords we captured were spelled, with evil intent. Fortunately, my armorer noticed before putting them to the flame. Marshal Harak said that had he done so, a magical fire would have burned up the forge and killed many.”

“Now?”

“Now, thanks to Marshal Harak, that evil is gone; those blades have been destroyed, and the metal is safe to trade, he says. But it took us some turns of the glass. I am in no fit state to dine with you gentlemen, so if that was the reason for your summons—”

“In part,” another Councilor said. “And I for one will excuse you from that, if the others will.” He wrinkled his nose slightly.

“I would as soon dine with a mercenary fresh from battle as with someone too dainty to stand the smell of honest sweat,” said another Councilor angrily. He was a big burly man, probably, Arcolin thought, from one of the construction guilds.

“Gentlesirs,” the chairman said, tapping a crystal bell with a little rod. “You will not quarrel here, surely. Captain, my pardon for our behavior. If you wish to dine here, and would prefer more formal attire, I am sure that among us we have both bathing facilities and suitable clothes. If on the other hand you prefer to return to your company, that is both understandable and acceptable to me—and I assume to all.” He glared around the table; no one spoke. “Now, Captain, there are a few other matters of which we must speak. One is that fellow Kory. You say that you personally had not seen the man who received the Duke’s punishment, but that one of your company had—by any chance, is that person one of your escort?”

“Yes,” Arcolin said.

“The man insists he was never north of the Dwarfmounts. He does bear marked scars on his back, however, and it’s clear the scars on his face come from multiple injuries. Yet we would not condemn him unless it can be proved. We would speak with that person who might have another way to recognize him.”

Arcolin stepped to the door of the chamber. “Sergeant Stammel—”

Stammel came into the room, calm as ever.

“The Council wants to know what you know of the guard we captured, Kory … you think he’s really someone who was our recruit years ago.”

“Yes, sir. Korryn, he called himself then. I signed him up myself, and wish I hadn’t. Good swordsman, already an expert, tall and strong, a bit arrogant as young men are who learn early to handle a sword. Told me he was a duke’s son’s bastard and would’ve been acknowledged but that his mother angered the duke, who turned her away, with her son. That’s how he got his first training, he said. Had been earning his keep as a door ward but wanted a real career.”

“Did he say which duke?” Arcolin asked.

“No, Captain. He wouldn’t say; said he’d promised not to. I liked that. Seemed to show a sense of honor. I was wrong about that. He was a complainer and quarrelsome. Sometimes we can train that out of them, as you know, sir, but this time we didn’t. He was always bothering the women, wanting to bed them.”