Joss rubbed his forehead. “Eiya! A heavy list of complications. Let me think on it.”

Tohon’s grin flashed. “My boys need me back by evening. I thought I would piss myself, I was so scared at first, but then I got to staring so much I forgot where I was. Hu! The land looks different from up there.”

“That it does. I’ll not keep you longer than I have to. Meanwhile, if you go to the eating hall, a reeve named Medard will get you something to eat.”

BACK AT THE marshal’s cote, Joss sent Siras to fetch Volias. While he waited he downed the third cup of wine, then composed himself with a satisfied smile, having hatched his revenge.

Volias slithered in with a smirk on his ugly face. “Medard’s spouting. You gave him a real kick in the ass by sending that Qin bastard in to ask for food. Especially that one fellow, their special scout. That cursed smile of his makes me nervous, and I swear to you he figured your angle the moment he walked into the eating hall, he’s that canny, and it amused him to tweak a few ears. He pretended not to know how to use a spoon! I don’t think Medard likes you better for making his ears red.”

“Medard doesn’t need to like me,” said Joss equably, just barely able to suppress a smile.

Volias glanced suspiciously around the chamber, which was no neater than it had been this morning. And the wine cup was empty.

Joss slid an unused cup—there were four more on the tray—over to the ceramic bottle. He picked it up and tipped it. There was just enough to fill a new cup. He set down the bottle and pushed the cup toward Volias. Siras, hovering by the door, made a move toward the desk, as if to take the bottle away for refilling, and then with the graceless charm of a young man who hasn’t learned to disguise his thoughts, made himself stop and sit down beside the open door. No doubt they had given him instructions: Don’t let the marshal drink too much.

“For me?” Volias picked up the cup, held it briefly beneath his nose to take in the aroma, then downed it in a gulp. Setting the cup down, he licked his lips. “Not bad. I trust I’m about to hear something I won’t like.”

“Sit down.” Joss indicated a pillow.

“I’ll stand.”

A sense of glee filled Joss, but he kept his voice level. “The most significant problem the Qin and the militia have encountered seems to be refugees. There are far too many folk uprooted and displaced by the recent incursion. Disruption will lead to trouble if order isn’t restored. I need you to get out there, identify a few collection points, and arrange for the militia and the Qin to send refugees to those points. We’ll need a temporary assizes at each one. All these people out wandering on the roads will merely create more trouble.”