“That is why we meddled with the tala, we young Jousters and Heklatis,” Kiron put in. “We knew we could not hope to stop the war, but we thought we could at least put it on the footing of soldier against soldier, without the dragons adding to the slaughter. But—” he added, feeling sick again, “—I never thought that the Magi would take themselves to Tia and infect it with their evil.”

“Well, we can all play the I never thought game until we are so bowed down with grief and guilt that we cannot move,” Heklatis said sharply, cutting through an atmosphere that was increasingly loaded with just that. “Now we know. Kaleth has the guidance of the gods themselves, as well as the Eye that sees into the futures. We have dragons. Kaleth tells us that we will have more flocking to our banner, and we have the best minds in both Kingdoms to deal with this. We have traded what we know, found it appalling, and have joined forces. And this is enough for one night, don’t you think?”

Words so blunt they were the equivalent of clubs left everyone sitting in stunned silence.

Then, after a long—a very long—moment, in which Kiron fully expected someone among the Tians to take offense at the Akkadian’s rudeness—the silence was broken.

By laughter.

It was laughter with an edge of bitterness and grief to it, but it was laughter all the same. And it was coming from Baket-ke-aput, who bowed his head as his shoulders shook, and finally sat straight up again and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“By the gods, Akkadian, your tongue alone is sharper than twenty swords,” he said, and Kiron thought there was just a touch of admiration in his voice. “If ever I need a goad, I will come to you, direct. I wonder that you are still alive; in Tia, you’d have been challenged a hundred times by now.”

Heklatis shrugged, looking smug. “In Akkadia, I was. Why do you think I am here? But in Alta-that-was, a man who cannot fight with his wits has no right to challenge one who can to a battle with swords. Especially when that one is in the right. And you know that I am.”

“I do. I do. Just keep that tongue of yours to a goad, and do not turn it to a flayer’s whip to take the hide off those you would help. You are right. There is nothing we can do this moment—but simply by exchanging these words, we have done much already.” Baket-ke-aput looked back over his shoulder, and seeing no disagreement among his own folk, looked each of those in the circle in the face. “If you will have us, have our skills, have us at your side—we are your brothers, from this day.”