He did not say, You are my only choice. Lome said it for him. “You mean that you have no one else.” Protests seemed to rise in him like bubbles in boiling stew. “That, too, is nonsense. Give your ‘service’ to Erepos. Command him to command. The whole city knows him. Who could be better?”

Bifalt shook his head. “No, Brother. The whole city knows him, yes. But he does not give orders. He works by persuasion. He reasons with people, or cajoles them. At times, he bribes them.” The district of Women was one example. “Everyone knows that he does my bidding. He does not tell them to do his. If he tries to command now, he will be met with arguments, or demands for favors, or pleas to be spared.

“He will help you, Lome. Think of him—”

The younger Prince interrupted by fluttering his hands as if he were scattering objections. “Help me? He does not even like me. Nobody likes me.”

“Nobody knows you,” put in Jaspid, still softly. “You keep to yourself. You always have. Even your drinking is private.”

King Bifalt took a deep breath. Deliberately, he ignored Lome’s denial. “Think of the Land-Captain,” he insisted, “as your aide. He has other duties, certainly. But he will give you as much time as he can. He knows my plans for the evacuation. And he knows the people. He can introduce you to prominent men and women in every district. They can introduce you to others. With you beside him, Erepos can remind them of your authority. He can tell them why you have come to them.

“But the commands, Brother. The commands must be yours. Your authority is mine. Like mine, it comes to you from our father. You will not be met with arguments or demands or pleas. You will make it plain to our people that if they do not obey you they will be left to die.”

The King expected more protests. He did not get them. Lome seemed to startle himself by asking, “You want us to flee? Where can we go?”

“To Amika,” answered Bifalt at once. “Queen Estie expects this. Her realm will welcome you. Chancellor Sikthorn will provide for you and our people.

“Your best path is the Queen’s road to Fivebridge. It is direct—and well supplied with inns. As for the rest of Belleger, even now Crickin”—the Captain of the Count—“travels everywhere, urging folk to leave their homes and make haste to the nearest bridge. Wherever they cross the Line, they will be made welcome.”

For a moment, Lome simply gaped. Then, abruptly, he turned away.

The King’s bodyguards edged closer in case the younger Prince tried to run. Jaspid put out a hand to dissuade him. But Lome stopped with his back to Bifalt; covered his face with his hands.

“Where?” he muttered to himself. “Where is it?”

Bifalt and Prince Jaspid exchanged confused glances. Neither of them understood.