“Now he shows up again today. It is no coincidence. Derrow said the man had not been within a hostel all night. Instead, he followed Dreys from outside the gates by climbing the Outer Wall. He killed Dreys because he was searching for this. . . .” Sylvarresta pulled out a slim tome bound in tan-colored lambskin. “It’s a book, a very strange book.”

Hollicks frowned at that news. It was bad enough to have the trader accused of spying. He didn’t wish to see any damning evidence mount against the man.

“So,” Hollicks said, “is that your proof? A drunken man is wont to do strange things, you know. Why, my stable-master, Wallis, climbs our apple trees every time the liquor has him. The fact that Dreys had a book means nothing.”

Lord Sylvarresta shook his head woefully. “No, the book has a note in it, addressed to me, from the Emir of Tuulistan. He is blind, you know. His castle was taken by Raj Ahten, and the Wolf Lord forced the Emir to give an endowment of sight. Yet the Emir wrote the story of his life, and sent it to me.”

“He wrote his own chronicles?” Iome asked, wondering why anyone, much less a blind man, would bother when the Days watched their every move, and wrote the chronicles after their deaths.

“Is there news of battles in it?” Hollicks asked. “Does it describe anything of import?”

“Many battles,” the King said. “The Emir tells how Raj Ahten broke his defenses and took neighboring castles. I’ve only had time to glance at the book, but it may prove important. Important enough that Raj Ahten’s spy felt he needed to kill Dreys to retrieve the book.”

“But—the Southerner’s papers are in order!” Hollicks objected. “He has a dozen letters of commends from various merchants in his pouch. He has loans to repay! He is a merchant, I tell you! You still have no proof against him!”

“And he has more endowments than any merchant you’ve ever seen,” King Sylvarresta said, “and they are a warrior’s mix in proportion.”

Hollicks seemed deflated by this.

Iome’s father mused, “You know, twenty years ago, when I went south to court Lady Sylvarresta in Jomateel, I once played chess with Raj Ahten himself.” Sylvarresta glanced at his wife, put a comforting hand on Hollicks’ shoulder.

Iome’s mother stirred uncomfortably. She did not like being reminded that she was the Wolf Lord’s cousin.

“Do you know how he opened?” King Sylvarresta asked.

“King’s pawn to king four?” Hollicks guessed, choosing the most common opening.

“No. King’s knight to king’s wizard three. An unusual opening.”

“Is this significant?” Hollicks asked.