She smiled at Long Paw as if reading his mind. “I want to get the Patriarch,” she said.

Long Paw said nothing.

Brown nodded. “Me, too.” He looked at the man who’d been named Lucca, the man with the ruined face. “Lucca and I have some . . . experience.”

“Working together,” Lucca said, forming his words carefully.

“The three of you can get the Patriarch,” the duchess said. “I’m sure of it. And be light enough on your feet to make it to the rendezvous at Arles.”

Lucca shrugged. “Emperor is my employer,” he said. “A job is a job. Kronmir was my mentor. I owe him. He comes first.”

Brown nodded. “What he said,” he muttered.

“As to that,” the duchess said, “I am not yet decided whether I will accompany the emperor or remain.”

Long Paw frowned. “Sauce, I’m not one to gripe, but . . .”

Sauce nodded. “I’ll see you right. You’ll be at Arles in time.”

Long Paw tried a different tack. “Who’s keeping watch on the Duke o’ Mitla, then?” he asked.

Brown managed his half-smile.

“Apparently the Duke of Mitla will not be troubling us this autumn,” Sauce said. “He was assassinated two days ago. Just about the time the battle was fought.”

The silence was palpable.

“His brother has already sent us a pair of heralds and tomorrow I’ll ride north to meet an embassy.” Sauce shrugged. “An embassy for which I’ll need the Duchess of Venike.”

The green-clad woman nodded. “Ah, duty,” she said. “Will you get him?”

Brown and Lucca bowed.

Long Paw nodded to them. “Am I the guide?” he asked.

Brown sniffed. “Yes,” he said.

Lucca nodded. “This could take months. You know that, right? But there’s more, Donna. The Venikans have prisoners; they’ve put them to the question. I didn’t know Master Jules was dead; I came to tell him, and you, that there’s evidence of a third player. The Patriarch is just an ally.” Lucca leaned close. “Or the Patriarch is something very nasty indeed.”

Sauce tapped her nose. “We’ve got our own suspicions. Very well—Long Paw is our go-between. For fifteen days. After that . . .”

Brown shook his head. “Don’t tell us,” he said fiercely. “I won’t die to protect your secrets.”

Sauce nodded. “We can pay you for this,” she said. “I’m a professional.”

Brown nodded. “I heard. Good on you. But this is on the house.” He bowed. Looked at Lucca. “I need access to Master Jules’s effects.”

Sauce nodded.

“And we need a caster. A good one.”

“Of course,” Sauce said.

Later that afternoon D.13 landed on Syr Christos’s outstretched arm and delivered a message straight from the emperor’s own hand. Sauce read it aloud to the company; it praised them for their victory and announced the destruction of the Necromancer.