For a moment, the Prince remained standing. Without meeting Bifalt’s gaze, he admitted, “You ask a hard question, Brother. I cannot fault her. The fault must be mine.” Abruptly, he shook himself, loosening his shoulders, flexing the tension out of his arms. When he had recovered his familiar relaxed poise, he faced Bifalt with a rueful grin. “I do not regret it. She gave me the best test of my life.”

Still grinning, he took a seat.

“I have a hard question for you, Brother,” he said at once. “But first I must ask what you know of these el-Algreb. It is good to have allies, but they are too few to discourage the enemy. Our three enemies,” he amended. “How can they serve us?”

The King shrugged. “They are warriors—and they covet rifles. That is as much as I know.” After a pause, he added, “At one time, their leader, Suti al-Suri, was the chief scout for Set Ungabwey’s caravans. But my encounter with him was brief. I do not know him now.”

“Then what will you ask him to do?”

“That is a hard question.” The King had an answer, but he was reluctant to say it. It had too many flaws. For Jaspid’s sake, however, he forced himself to reply.

“I hope to send him against the raiders, but his bravado troubles me. He believes that his warriors can learn the use of rifles in two days. That is nonsense. I might enjoy seeing them fail. To my cost, I need them to succeed. If they cannot use their guns well enough, they will not slow an army of at least two thousand men.”

The Prince nodded slowly. “I have heard the Second Captain’s reports. We cannot stand against the force that Rile has brought against us. If the raiders strike us at the same time—”

He let that idea hang. His frown emphasized the smolder in his eyes. “The el-Algreb are a hard question. I have a harder one.

“What do you want me to do?”

Before Bifalt could stop him, Jaspid went on, “I am wasted here, Brother. You know that. Let me fight. Send me with the el-Algreb. I can improve their skills with rifles while we ride. Or send me to Hegels. He will have a use for me. Or—”

The King interrupted him. “Enough, Jaspid.” He raised his fists to show that he was serious. “I have a worse task for you.”

At once, the Prince stilled himself. He looked as ready as a coiled snake.

Ah, hells. Bifalt did not want to say this. But it had to be done. Jaspid needed it.