With a laugh, Elgart turned to the Land-Captain. “Then there is nothing to fear, Erepos. Save your alarm for folk who need it. The Prince is as good as an army. If I have nothing better to do, I can guard his back.”

The Land-Captain was not reassured. He treated Elgart to a bitter stare. “Very good. The Hand will be defended by two hundred and three men. Oh, and I must not forget the King’s bodyguards. Two hundred and seven. A fine number to fight for the only home we have ever known.”

“Enough, Erepos.” King Bifalt’s voice was a rasp. “We have always known that we would lose the Hand. Rile’s forces are more than we can withstand. But I do not mean to die here.

“A hundred of those riflemen will fight in the streets. They will attempt to convince Rile that the city is defended. Then they will rally around the Magisters of fire at the barricades.

“The other men and I will withdraw to the walls of the old city. Those fortifications will shield us. I will not engage the enemy unless I cannot avoid it.”

The Land-Captain remained troubled, but he did not protest when his King used that tone. Instead, he asked stiffly, “Is there more, Majesty?”

Bifalt bowed. “No, Erepos. Help our people flee. That will be enough.”

The man sighed. “Then I should return to Prince Lome. He pretends to dislike me, but he needs my guidance.”

Returning King Bifalt’s bow, he left.

When Erepos was gone, King Bifalt said drily, “You were not kind to the Land-Captain, Elgart. You have spent too much time with Suti al-Suri.”

Prying his limbs out of his chair, Elgart went to refill his goblet. As he moved, he stretched his arms and back, loosened his neck. With more wine in his hands, he stood by the fire with his back to the King, contemplating his thoughts. Readying himself.

King Bifalt watched the former spy. He knew what was coming. He did not know what it would cost him.

Abruptly, Elgart stooped, picked up another log from the wood-box, tossed it on the fire. As much to the hearth as to Bifalt, he mused, “You welcomed me well, Majesty. If a hard fist can be called a welcome. It is enough that you kept my promise. Now I am rested. I begin to feel whole in my mind. And I have talked to a number of people in Prince Lome’s company, learning what I can. In some ways, I am content. But there are one or two details that no one will share with me. Klamath will not, and he tends to blurt them. Hells, Majesty! Even Howel will not, and I confess that I badgered him.

“Majesty.” He spoke more sharply. “Bifalt. I will not understand until I know. I will not understand you.”