Amon developed networks of residents who began to trust that he wouldn’t betray them if they fed him information about thieves or tipped him off to a gang fight. The other soldiers at the Southbridge Guardhouse—the good ones—learned that he wouldn’t betray them either, and they began to turn to him for leadership of sorts.

All in all, Amon felt that he was doing some good, despite Mac Gillen. Best of all, his successes were a constant irritant to his sergeant.

One night he and his patrol returned to Southbridge Guardhouse to find his father waiting in the briefing room, maps spread over a long table. It was two a.m., and a rumble of snores came from the next room. Jak Barnhouse, the duty officer, was hovering, practically wringing his hands.

“I know Sergeant Gillen would want to speak with you, if he was here,” Corporal Barnhouse said. “I don’t know where he is just now.”

“The rest of you, give your reports to Corporal Barnhouse and get some sleep,” Edon said, waving off Amon’s squadron. “I need to speak with Corporal Byrne in private.”

They shuffled off with Barnhouse, looking over their shoulders like they were hoping Captain Byrne would relent, and they’d be asked to stay.

“Sit.” Amon’s father gestured to a chair. “At ease.” The captain’s face was etched with lines of weariness, and Amon felt a twinge of worry.

Amon sat, resting his hands on the table. “What is it, Da?”

“I need to ask a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I know you—ah—prefer your posting here in Southbridge.” Here, a trace of a smile came and went. “But I need you and your triple to come back to the castle close and serve as personal guard to the princess heir.”

Amon frowned, confused, then looked around to make sure no one could overhear. “But…but I thought you said it was best if I kept my distance since…since the complaint from the Bayars. That people would talk.”

His father studied Amon’s face for a long moment, then said, “People will talk, that is a risk, but greater risk has come up, so I’ll deal with this one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Queen Marianna is sending Averill Demonai and me to Chalk Cliffs to look into reports of pirates,” Edon said. “Tomorrow.”

Amon still didn’t understand. “What does that have to do with the princess heir?”

“I have a bad feeling about it, that’s all,” his father growled, raking a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. Then, after a long pause, he added, as if the words were difficult to say, “My connection with the queen has been…muddied. Usually I can predict what she’ll do, guess what she’s thinking, but lately…I don’t know. Something’s changed. I almost feel as though she wants to get us out of the way.”