Sir Oreth greeted Senera warmly. Brother Qown suspected Relos Var had wasted little time putting Sir Oreth in touch with Senera; they had clearly met before.

“There’s no guards around back,” Dorna whispered.

“Dorna, it’s not safe. We should go back and tell Count Janel.”

“Wait for it…”

Across the compound, a Stavira knight returned from his turn at the lists. His armor looked disheveled. A giant faux bird wing at his shoulder had broken, dragging across his fireblood’s back.

Then the saddle’s girth strap broke.

The knight, already top-heavy, did what one might expect in these circumstances: he fell. Brother Qown assumed the fireblood cried for help from those nearby. The guards came running.

Mare Dorna moved.

Brother Qown didn’t dare protest lest he draw the guard’s attention.

In the confusion, Dorna found a spot for them behind the main azhock Senera and Sir Oreth had entered, behind haystacks and rice wine barrels. She leaned in toward the tent, intending to eavesdrop, and waved for Brother Qown to do likewise. He did, praying to Selanol they wouldn’t be discovered.

“I can’t hear anything,” Mare Dorna whispered. “Can you?”

Brother Qown listened. The knight who’d lost his saddle (how had Dorna accomplished that?) didn’t seem worse for wear, judging by the quality and heat of his cursing. The guards began returning to their posts. He heard nothing from inside the azhock itself.

“Maybe they’re, uh, you know—” He blushed.

“That makes noise too, priest,” Mare Dorna admonished.

“Maybe they’re sneaking up on the eavesdroppers,” Senera suggested from behind them.

Brother Qown turned.

Senera and Sir Oreth both stood there. Sir Oreth had his sword drawn, as did the half dozen soldiers behind them. Sir Oreth was staring at Mare Dorna with a murderous expression.

Senera smiled. “We have a lot to talk about. Won’t you both come inside?”

28: ACCUSATIONS OF WITCHCRAFT

Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since Thaena found a loophole in the Quuros emperor selection process

“Not you too,” Kihrin told Brother Qown as the man paused to take a drink.

Qown smiled. “I’m parched.”

Janel laughed and reached over to bump her forearm against Qown’s.

“Oh yeah, I see how it is,” Kihrin said. He turned to Ninavis. “So what have you been up to, then?”

“Oh, rebelling against the empire. Working to tear down the Royal Houses.” Ninavis smiled. “You know, the usual.”

Kihrin realized she wasn’t joking. “How’s that going?”

“Honestly? Not bad, but the moment the empire decides to take us seriously, we’re going to be in for a rough time. They don’t play nice.” Ninavis turned to Janel and slapped her hand on the wood bar. “Come on. I want to hear what happened next too.”

“Right,” Janel said, taking a deep breath. She stopped smiling and began to talk.

Janel’s Turn. The duke’s palace, Atrine, Jorat, Quur.