“Governor Toneus gave all his workmen proper homes,” Lemiel replied as he climbed the ladder to the loft. “Sit yourself down at the table there. I’ll only be a moment.”

As ’faie hospitality went, it wasn’t a welcome of any sort, but perhaps the man had never experienced it himself. Seregil took a seat and listened as Lemiel moved something heavy, then climbed back down with a small flannel bag.

Sitting down opposite Seregil, he unwrapped his treasure and showed him a single golden earring shaped like a bumblebee, a clay votive figure of a horse, most likely also from the lower cave, and finally, a hacked, distorted fragment of the gold rosette.

Seregil casually poked at it as if uninterested, then picked up the earring. “This is your great secret? These little things?”

“You’re the one so anxious to see them!”

“I had the impression your collection would be more than this.” He picked up the votive. “This is interesting, I suppose. I’ll give you a silver sester for it.”

“You don’t want the gold?”

“I was hoping for something a bit more impressive.” He picked up the piece of the rosette and looked it over with disappointment. “Now, if this setting was whole I might be interested. What was it?”

“I don’t know. Markis—my brother—had the whole thing, and it was pretty, but all he cared about was the gold. He hacked it up to hawk when he needed a bit extra.”

Seregil turned it over in his fingers. “It looks like something that once held a gem. Did he have that?”

“If he did, he didn’t let on to me about it. But he died right after he st—found these things.”

“Of what?”

“A flux of the gut.”

Seregil looked bored, but his heart skipped a beat. “Really? Was it the bloat?”

“Don’t think so.” Lemiel shook his head sadly. “Markis was a good boy, ’cept for the stealing. Guess Bilairy finally caught up with him. One day he felt fine, the next he was bringing up black blood and passing it. Doctor Kordira couldn’t make any sense of it. By nightfall he was gone.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. When did he pass?”

“Right before the old governor, not more than a couple of days.”

“May gentle winds carry his ashes.”

Lemiel snorted. “We don’t burn our people like garbage here on the island. He’s buried out on the point, right and proper. So, what do you say? Do you want any of this or not?”

“This for the lot of it.” Seregil opened his purse and slid four gold sesters over to him. “What do you say? That’s more gold than any of this is worth, and you can spend it without anyone asking questions.”

Lemiel nodded and scooped up the coins. “Much obliged.”