Indeed, his idorrá was so strong, I didn’t understand why everyone in the viewing box wasn’t on their knees.

Relos Var paused before answering my question. “My younger brother is about to go up on the auction block in Kishna-Farriga.” He let out a bitter laugh. “He has a talent for getting himself into trouble. Himself and everyone around him.”

“Sold as a slave? That does sound serious. Safe journey, then.” Ah, how I wished I might have plied him with the questions his comment provoked. Where was this Kishna-Farriga? Since the baron wasn’t sufficiently ranked to have his own Gatekeeper, how did Relos Var intend to depart to rescue his brother? Had he worked out a deal with the Gatekeepers, or was he a Gatekeeper himself?

“Thank you, Count,” Relos Var said. He bowed then, a real bow. The warmth in his eyes when he smiled surprised me. “What atrocious timing. I hope we’ll meet again in circumstances where I can give you my full attention.”

He seemed sincere, his expression kind, and yet his words struck me as a threat. I felt a chill, married to the certainty I wouldn’t enjoy Relos Var’s “full attention.”

“And you,” I said.

He left as the crowd drummed their feet in anticipation. I claimed his now-empty chair and tried to act interested in the outcome for all the normal reasons, but I couldn’t stop staring at the pillars. Var had almost distracted me, but my true purpose for being there stood right in front of my eyes.

“Sir Xia Nilos,” Tamin said, drawing my attention back to the match. He pointed to a knight in a beautiful sky eagle headdress and a gray-and-white beaded coat, riding a lovely dappled gray mare with matching ribbons in her mane. “She represents the Seven Journeys Trade Consortium. Facing against her is my man, Sir Dedreugh.” He didn’t need to point out the other knight. Dedreugh dressed in yellow and brown, gold and bronze, his parade dress resplendent with streamers catching the air and sailing behind him. He made his turns along the contest grounds and shouted threats to his opponent.

The crowd’s enthusiasm felt forced and unnatural. If Dedreugh’s boasts to me hadn’t been a fool’s bluster, then he was this little wood’s tiger king. I expected him to have loyal fans and admirers, waving his flags, dressed in his colors. Instead, the locals clearly cheered for him because they had to cheer for him.

Visitors cheered for Dedreugh for the same reason they cheered for any knight: they’d placed a wager on the outcome.

“Your captain mentioned last night he usually wins the final tournament prize of arrested saelen. Your judges don’t feel that’s a conflict of interest?”

Tamin’s expression soured, but then he laughed. He waved at the old, doddering warden. “There sits my only judge.”

My eyes widened.