None of these sights were unusual to farmhands, but it was not the world most royals ever looked upon. Both Grae and his younger brother took in the scenes with their blue eyes. The younger was nearly a twin of his brother. A little slimmer of build perhaps, but the real difference between them was in his acceptance of deference to his elder. Clearly, the time the two of them spent secluded in the far north of their country—as their older brother and father both died in battle—had made them close. As Grae had said at the last meeting of the Kindred, his brother did seem to share his view of the world.

Throughout it all, Barad studied the young king’s face, trying to see the mind behind his words, beneath that handsome visage. He had done this many times in the past few weeks—when he led the Aushenian down into an abandoned Kidnaban mine and asked him to imagine the labor required to dig such a massive wound, as they skirted the wasteland of pig farms along the Tabith Way, even when they toured the slums of Alecia. On first hearing of the latter, the king had asked, “There are slums in Alecia?”

“Aye,” Barad had said. “You don’t see them from the palaces and government buildings, but they’re there, outside what most would think of as the walls of the place. Some of those walls are not a partition that separates inside and out. Some are just barriers between the rich and the poor of the city. You’ll never hear the Alecians speak of it. It’s like they have one gangrenous hand, but they keep it hidden in a fancy glove, soaked in perfume. You’ll see.” And the king had seen. Barad made certain of it.

The old slave of the mines knew that one could never be sure when judging another person, but by the end of their weeks of traveling together, he believed Grae had a just heart. The king had never once flinched after seeing what Barad directed him to. He had offered no excuses for the empire, and he had even spoken to several peasants as if they were actual people, something Corinn had never done in her years of rule. There might be true nobility in his blood, something deeper and more full of purpose than the brash young man yet recognized. Barad saw it, though, and it pleased him. The Aushenian would make a fine ally. Used correctly, he could be a tool unlike any he had yet engaged. Ganet seemed just as useful, although in a different way.

On the scheduled meeting day, all the Kindred councillors who could be there gathered in a barn behind a farmhouse on the outskirts of a village. Surrounded by plowed fields, the air around the building was heavy with earth scent. Inside was equally loamy, but stuffy and mildewy as well. Light falling down through spaces in the beams crosshatched the shadows and partially illumed the dark stalls, some of which contained farm animals.