The Hon gave Qown such a fierce “you’re an idiot” glare the priest found himself fighting the urge to duck. “Pick your reason. When he won the tournament in Praliar, he used his idorrá to convince the local baron to evacuate the entire town afterward—before Aeyan’arric arrived. Or the several occasions where he was so disruptive, the local rulers canceled the tournament and sent everyone home. Or simply the fact that he’s sneaking into tournaments, knocking out whoever should be the Black Knight, taking their place and winning—often before scattering his prize money to the crowds. Which is making the local rulers look like fools.” He growled. “That’s supposed to be my job, Var. How am I supposed to come in and save these people if this bastard keeps beating me to it?”

Brother Qown blinked and looked up at Relos Var. “Wouldn’t it be better to use the Name—”

Relos Var shook his head. “That would require too open-ended a question. The Black Knight isn’t a unique identifier. Since it’s a role and not a title, we’d receive a thousand names or no names at all. There are times in Jorat where no one is the Black Knight, because no one is playing the role in a tournament. But we’ve made an initial list of people who’ve played the part in the last year. It’s likely one of them.” He untucked the large vellum scroll he’d been holding under his arm and unrolled it on the desk.

The scroll rolled across the desk and back off the other side.

“We know Janel Theranon played the part when she interrupted our plans in Mereina, but obviously she hadn’t been around during these latest events. Find out as much as you can and report back to me.”

Brother Qown picked up the paper. Janel’s name would be there. So would Sir Baramon’s and Captain Mithros’s. Ninavis was the last person he saw wear the outfit, although Qown didn’t know if she counted since she’d only done so to escape Duke Xun’s soldiers. Since Relos Var hadn’t given him a direct order, Qown felt no compulsion to volunteer what he knew.

“Yes, sir. I’ll start right away.”

The Hon stared at Brother Qown for a long second and then grunted. “Good.”

“Kaen—” Relos Var said.

Duke Kaen paused.

“About the women,” Var said. “Your wives.”

Kaen sighed and waved a hand. “Ex-wives. And I don’t care. You want that D’Lorus royal to teach them magic? Fine. Maybe they’ll be good for something.”

“Not all of them will have an aptitude for magic,” Relos Var said, “but I believe Thurvishar D’Lorus wants to start by teaching them how to read.”

“Whatever. You have my permission.” The duke swept out of the room as quickly as he had entered it.