Solon’s face took on an intensity Dorian hadn’t seen since he’d left Sho’fasti wearing his first blue robes. Now, as then, the slab of a man looked more like a soldier than like one of the foremost mages of the day. “I will do it,” Solon said. “I’ve given ten years of my life for this backwater, and they’ve been good years. It’s been damn good to stand for something rather than just watch from the side and criticize everyone who’s actually doing something. You should try it. You used to, you know? What happened to the Feir Cousat who went and took this sword in the first place? I’m going to do something here. Don’t spoil my chance to make it be useful. Come on, Feir, if we can fight Khalidor, how could we not?”

“Once you make your mind up, you’re about as easy to move as Dorian,” Feir said.

“Thank you,” Solon said.

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment.”

Chapter 48

48

T he man who had ordered soldiers to arrest Regnus hadn’t been much use. They’d captured him coming out of an inn after lunch. His interrogation had been short if not kind. He’d given them his commanding officer’s name, one Thaddeus Blat.

Thaddeus Blat was currently being entertained upstairs in a brothel called the Winking Wench. Regnus and his men were waiting downstairs, seated at various tables, and not doing a good job of remaining inconspicuous.

It all made Regnus nervous. He didn’t know this man, but soldiers tended to visit brothels in the middle of the afternoon only when they knew something big was going to happen. Something from which they might not return. He also didn’t like being out in public. Years ago, he wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere without people recognizing his face. He had been presumed to be the next king, after all. But that had been years ago. Few people looked at him twice now. He was a big, threatening man in the Warrens. Apparently, that outweighed the fact that he was a rich nobleman in the Warrens.

Finally the man came downstairs. He was swarthy, with a single thick black eyebrow and a face etched with a permanent glower. Regnus stood after the man walked past and followed him to the stable. They’d already paid the stable boy to abandon his post, and by the time Regnus got there, Thaddeus Blat was bleeding from his nose and the corner of his mouth, disarmed, held by four soldiers, and cursing.

“That’s not what I want to hear coming out of your mouth, Lieutenant,” Regnus said. He gestured and the men kicked the back of Blat’s knees so he dropped in front of the trough. Regnus grabbed a handful of hair and pressed his head under water.

“Tie his hands. This may take a few minutes,” Regnus said.