Estie had made a number of promises. Bifalt dreaded the possibility that she had neglected some of them. Or changed her mind.

Behind his scowl, the General relaxed. “He emphasized that Queen Estie is true to her word. Amika will accept our people, as many as necessary. They will be made welcome as if they were Amikan, fed, clothed, and housed. If they want work, they will have it.”

King Bifalt swallowed a moment of relief. Estie had kept that promise. She would not forget more urgent commitments.

However, he masked his reactions. He knew how to hide behind his face. As if he had no personal interest in his wife’s actions, he told Klamath, “When you reply to the Chancellor, General, give him my thanks. Then tell Land-Captain Erepos to prepare suitable accommodations for Amika’s Magisters. Later, we will determine where and how to use their Decimates.”

Klamath nodded a small bow. “As you say, Majesty.” He and the King had already agreed that they could not make any firm decisions about the deployment of their forces until they knew more about the enemy’s tactics. Then they would have to think and act quickly.

With an inward sigh, King Bifalt dismissed the General and the First Captain to their other duties. Accompanied by their riflemen, they left Bifalt alone with his bodyguards.

While Klamath faded into the lingering dusk and vague shadows, Bifalt continued to slump. But then, biting the inside of his cheek, he forced his back straight; raised his head until his chin seemed to jut at the buildings around him. He had spent a lifetime holding himself upright: he could relearn the habit. If Klamath saw him sagging again, his old friend would worry—and the General already had enough worries to discourage a pile of rocks.

It was enough that King Bifalt doubted himself. He did not want anyone else to doubt him.

When the Royal Surveyor approached the intersection a short time later, he had two Magisters with him.

King Bifalt groaned under his breath as he recognized Magister Lambent. Slope-shouldered, nearsighted, and full of himself, Lambent valued himself highly despite his reputation as a coward. His Decimate was lightning: he was said to be powerful. In recent years, he had served Bifalt by inspecting and reporting on the progress of the fortifications in the Bay of Lights.

Even if the sorcerer had been Bellegerin, King Bifalt would not have chosen him for that task. Lambent’s mind was as shortsighted as his eyes. But Queen Estie had insisted on him. With her sweetest smile—a smile that twisted her husband’s heart whenever he remembered it—she had said, “You have better men for more important duties, my lord. And perhaps being required to perform a menial chore in your service will teach him a little humility. I will ensure that he does not disappoint you.”