Lost in thought, Gaborn wondered once again about Borenson. The man was a soldier, and soldiers did not necessarily make good lords, for they were trained to solve every problem through use of force. Gaborn’s father preferred to sell titles to merchants, who were trained to barter for what they wanted. Gaborn suddenly realized that the Days had never fully answered him, had avoided the question.

“I said, ‘Borenson is a good man, isn’t he?’ ”

The Days looked up, his head nodding just a bit. The disciple was well on his way to being solidly drunk. He poured more wine. “Not nearly so good as you, Your Lordship. But he’ll make her happy enough, I’d Wager.”

Your Lordship. Not my lord.

“But he’s a good man, isn’t he?” Gaborn asked a third time, suddenly angry at the Days’ evasion.

The Days looked away, started to mumble something.

Gaborn struck the table hard enough so the wine bottles jumped and the mugs clanked. He shouted, “Answer me!”

The Days gaped in surprise. He knew to take warning. Fists would soon fly. Gaborn had endowments of brawn from three men. His blow could kill a commoner.

“Hah—what does it matter, Your Lordship?” the Days averred, struggling to clear his muddled thoughts. “You’ve never worried about his goodness before. You’ve never questioned his moral fiber.”

The Days took another swig of wine, seemed to want more, but thought better of it and carefully set the mug aside.

Why am I questioning Borenson’s moral character? Gaborn wondered, and the answers flowed to him: Because you were drinking addleberry wine and noticed how Days tried to evade the question. Because Myrrima said that Princess Iome doubts your own goodness, and now you are worrying at what others think. Because . . . because you know that any lout can win a parcel of land, but it takes a special kind of king to win the hearts of his people.

Gaborn hoped to win the hearts of Iome and her people. But he dared not reveal details of his plan to Days—or to anyone. If Gaborn’s father, King Orden, learned what Gaborn planned, the King might try to stop him.

The wine was having its way with Gaborn now, bringing the world into focus. But Gaborn would not be sidetracked from his questioning by other observations. “Answer my question, Days! What do you think of Borenson?”

The Days put both hands on the table, screwed up his courage. “As you wish, Your Lordship: I once asked Borenson what his favorite animal is, and he told me he ‘admires dogs.’ I asked him why, and he answered: ‘I love to hear them snarl. I love the way they greet strangers with senseless aggression.’ ”

Gaborn laughed. It was the kind of perfect thing Borenson would say. The man was a terror in battle.