“He makes it sound good,” Djordji said. “Takes him some time. Takes blackmail and bribery, but all the clans take the bait. They plans a vote. Thing is, I finds out why we has so much trouble with the dirtborn. Kalo feeds the dirtborn kings information about which clans are where and in what numbers, so no matter where we turn, the dirtborn are always there to meet us. He does all this to afright the clans and make them name him king.”

Djordji’s head wobbled weakly side to side, as if he still could not believe it. “That night I decides who I serves. Not my brother, not my clan, but all Gyrine. Breaks my heart. Nearly breaks my mind. See, I can’t prove what I knows about Kalo’s plot. Can’t beat him with words, either, and no one else stands with me. All I has is steel. All I has is the one choice I can’t make. Gyrine don’t kill Gyrine.

“In the end, I does what I has to do. The Gyrine bows to no king, and I gets named Jackhand, kinslayer. They don’t kill me, but there’s none who will grant me aid or succor.”

“What does this portend for us if they won’t give aid to you?” Isabelle asked.

“They won’t give it to me, but they will to her.” He twitched his nose at Marie. “I adopts her as my daughter and my heir. None may offer me shelter, but there’s no bad blood as we say. My crime doesn’t touch her.

“I means to introduce her to the choir at Flotsam. Stake my claim in her. Tall Clouds takes her in. Fellhand Marie is she, once she makes her challenge. Learns in a month what it takes me a year to teach others. She’ll do.

“Thing is, it’s two days to Flotsam, and I cuts my triumphant return a bit too fine. It may be Marie makes her case without me.” He tugged at a leather thong about his wrist. It was braided with beads in shades of blue and green. Marie helped him remove it.

“Clan token,” he said. “Not quite a passport, but close. Make sure she gets to the choir and makes … her challenge.” His strength waned and he sagged again onto his pillows.

“What challenge?” Isabelle asked.

Marie answered, “To be named fellhand, I must challenge the champions of all clans present. If I can defeat their champions, they’ll be able to save face by admitting Jackhand Djordji trained me, and that I am one of them.”

Isabelle stiffened. “How many clans are there?”

“We don’t know,” Marie said. “There are twelve clan berths in the city. They’re the ones who maintain the place.”

Isabelle’s voice grew tight. “So you could be fighting twelve duels?”