Olin shook his head. “I would not dare to tell you your craft, Count Perivos. Your reputation has traveled where you have not, and I knew your name before I began my…visit here in Hierosol. I have studied this autarch a little but not fought him, of course—the southerners I fought here twenty years ago were a loose collection of Tuani and others, and although Parnad’s troops fought with them, it was a very different sort of battle.” He raised his hands. “So you see…”

“But you have been studying him a long time—is there anything you can tell me about this Sulepis, any weakness my spies have missed I might exploit? It goes without saying I will honor my end of the bargain with any news of your family and home I can discover.”

“To be honest, I bargained only when I did not know you and feared you would not trust me otherwise—I would not knowingly aid the autarch and will do anything I can do to help.” He frowned. “But I am certain a man like yourself has explored every angle.” Nevertheless, Olin spent much of the next hour describing what he remembered of the Xixian military at war and everything he had heard about this young autarch, Sulepis.

When he had finished the count sat silent for a while, then put down his wine cup and smacked his hands on his thighs in frustration. “It is this news about Xixian marines in Krace that frights me most. He has ten or twenty times our numbers, and if we cannot be reinforced except over land, up the steep, steep valley roads, I fear that Hierosol will fall at last, if only from starvation.”

“That will take months,” Olin said. “Many things may change in that time, Count Perivos. Other ideas will come, or even new allies.” He looked at him keenly. “If I were free, it is possible I could bring a northern army to help break the siege.”

Perivos Akuanis laughed without anger. “And if I could persuade Ludis Drakava to do something he so profoundly does not wish to do, I would be a god and could save the city by myself.” He reached down for his cup and finished it with a swallow. “I am sorry, King Olin. Even with our enemies all around us, the lord protector still has hopes for using you to make some useful bargain—if not for your daughter, the gods protect her, then for something else. I cannot imagine any trade the autarch would make that Drakava would agree to, despite his strange offer for you. Whatever the case, our lord protector is not done with you yet. Apologies, your Highness, and thank you for your time. Now I have work to do.”

Before he could reach the door, Olin had sprung from his bench and grabbed the count’s arm. “Hold! Hold, damn you!”

Akuanis had his knife out in a moment and pressed it against Olin’s throat. “I will not call the guards because I still believe you a gentleman, but you abuse our hospitality, King Olin.”