Ingolf shrugged. “Either my word’s good, or it isn’t, and you’ll have to be the judge of that for yourself.” He held up a hand. “Just think about it.”

Woburn gave a jerky nod. “May I ask what’s to be done with my men?”

Maugis nodded in turn, smiling politely and slipping in a small needle: “The High King’s orders are that all Boise prisoners are to be kept separate from the Prophet’s men . . . I trust that’s satisfactory?”

Woburn flushed, and the nobleman went on: “You’ll be taken to Walla Walla and then on the rail line to Wallula, and down the Columbia by barge to join the others; we’ve got over three battalions’ worth of your comrades by now. The High King has also commanded that Boisean prisoners are to be treated strictly according to the laws of war. Enlisted men may be required to work, but nothing excessive, officers to keep their sidearms and be allowed to give parole, prisoners will get the same rations our men eat, and no degrading punishments. Perhaps he’ll talk to you himself.”

The Boisean was silent for a moment. “I should return to my men, my lord.”

“By all means. If you have any needs, please inform my guards and they’ll relay the message to me. We’re rather busy and stretched thin here, defending our homes, but I’ll consider anything within reason.”

Then he went on to Ingolf: “Come walk with me, Lord Vogeler.”

Mary caught his eyes and nodded very slightly; Mark gave a slight yelp as if someone had kicked him under the table and subsided, and he didn’t think Lady Helissent missed any of it. Captain Jaeger stood and gave him a salute and then headed back to the buffet one more time before he’d have to get back to the regiment.

The two men strolled out through the busyness of the manor, down the front steps and toward the heavy steel-strapped timber gates.

“Getting your stuff out while the going’s good?” Ingolf asked.

Maugis shrugged. “Yes. Though in the end, things can be replaced.”

He gestured at the big house. “This is earth and stone and timber; I love it because of the memories it holds for me of my childhood, and because my own children were born here, but it’s not . . . not something that can really die. We can rebuild if the enemy wreck it, though losing the labor that went into it will hurt. But it’s the people that are the core of it.”

They walked out the front gate of the manor gardens. The outer wall of the great house grounds formed one side of a town square paved with squared blocks of basalt, with a big fountain in the center, one of several where the folk could fill their buckets as they pleased.