“It is how he played the game. He left his pawns at home, and attacked with his knights, wizards, castles, queen—even brought out his king. Rather than seeking to control the center of the board, he attacked with pieces he felt could seize control even at the far corners.”

King Sylvarresta waited for the merchant to grasp the import of what he was saying, but Hollicks seemed oblivious. The King put it more simply: “That spice merchant in the dungeon—he is one of Raj Ahten’s knights. The calluses inside his thumb come from years of sword practice.”

Hollicks considered this. “Surely you don’t believe Raj Ahten will come here?”

“Oh, he’s coming,” Sylvarresta said. “That’s why we’ve sent a thousand knights, plus squires and archers, to fortify Castle Dreis.” Iome’s father failed to mention that seventeen kings of Rofehavan planned to meet in two months, to discuss strategies should Raj Ahten invade. Apparently her father felt it was not the merchant’s business.

Iome’s mother, Queen Venetta Sylvarresta, could have told some tales to frighten Master Hollicks.

Iome’s mother once told Iome how her cousin “Young “Ahten,” at the age of eight, had visited her father’s keep. Venetta’s father had thrown the boy a feast, inviting all the captains of the King’s Guard, various counselors, and important merchants to the extravaganza. When the tables were laid out, piled with roast peacocks and puddings and wine, Venetta’s father invited young Raj Ahten to speak. The boy then stood, turned and addressed Venetta’s father, asking, “Is this feast not in my honor, a gift to me?”

Venetta’s father had answered, “Indeed, it is all in your honor.”

The boy then indicated the hundred guests with a sweep of his hand, and said, “If this is my feast, then send these people away. I will not have them eating my dinner.”

Appalled, the guests departed in outrage, leaving the boy with more food than he could consume in a year.

Iome’s mother used to say that if her father had been wiser, he’d have slit the rapacious child’s throat then.

For years, Venetta had tried to convince King Sylvarresta of the necessity of striking the first blow, of crushing Raj Ahten when he was young. Somehow, Iome’s father never believed the boy would conquer all twenty-two kingdoms in Indhopal.

Iome urged her father now, “So you will put this spy to death? You must insist on justice.”

Lord Sylvarresta answered, “I will have justice. Raj Ahten will pay dearly. But I won’t kill the knight.”

At this news, Hollicks sighed in relief.

Iome must have appeared crestfallen, for her father quickly added. “Your idealistic solution to this matter is laudable, but hardly practical. We, can’t execute the spy.”

“So, I’ll hold him ransom.”

“Ransom?” Hollicks asked. “Raj Ahten will never admit that this spy is his man!”