“Of course, Magister,” murmured the Queen. She had spent too much time contemplating the implications of deafness. The inability of the Farsighted to hear was of another kind than Magister Avail’s, but some of its consequences were similar.

Magister Bleak lowered his hands. Humming to himself, he turned his head to peer at the door, obviously hoping for wine. Then he shifted to gaze past or through Queen Estie.

“We know Commander Forguile. Some time ago, he held the north bank of the Line River. With a company of riflemen. They were shooting at an army on the Bellegerin side. The fanged men. At first, those strangers stood where they were and died. Then they withdrew out of range. However, they remain too far east to join the Great God’s forces. We turned our sight toward the Open Hand and Belleger’s Fist.”

Again, Magister Bleak seemed to forget words while he hummed.

Behind him, a servant appeared in the doorway, breathing hard. Crayn must have prodded her to hurry. On a tray, she carried four goblets and a flask of wine.

She did not enter until Queen Estie beckoned to her. Then she came forward and set her tray on the low table. Before Estie could thank her, she left, closing the door behind her.

Magister Bleak did not glance at the wine. He seemed to know it by its aroma. Still staring beyond Estie, he poured a goblet of dark wine for himself, drank it all. With a sigh of satisfaction, he refilled his goblet.

After a moment, he remembered his tune. Glancing at the Queen, he said, not unkindly, “I do not mean to increase your distress, Queen. I can only tell you what we have seen.”

“That will be enough, Magister,” answered Queen Estie. She knew Ennis Forguile well. His efforts to defend Amika without risking his men comforted her. “It will be more than I have now.”

Bleak cleared his throat. His gaze drifted into the distance. With a lilt that resembled singing, he began.

“Magister Marrow spoke of Master Ungabwey’s failure in the Realm’s Edge. Now we know that he lives. He was borne from his ruin in the Realm’s Edge to the army’s camp outside the Open Hand. Since then, he has been moved. At first, our view of him was interrupted by buildings and crooked streets. But we glimpsed him as he was carried through the old city to Belleger’s Fist.”

The Farsighted emptied his goblet again, refilled it. Now he did not need prompting to continue.

“Days earlier, riflemen rode south while an army emerged from the Realm’s Edge. Later, more men were sent to support them. Men and Magisters. The King’s forces suffered significant losses. To our sight, it appeared that they had been stricken by some illness. They fled, dragging Master Ungabwey. Their dead they left behind. The wounded were tied in their saddles.”