The Colonel said, "I do not believe you when you say you're just traders. The pattern of your questions indicate an inordinate interest in a man named Corbie and his house. Corbie, let it be noted, is suspected of being either a Rebel agent or Resurrectionist. Tell me about him."

I did, almost completely, and truthfully: "I never heard of him before we got here."

I think he believed me. But he shook his head slowly.

"You see. You won't believe me even when you know I'm telling the truth."

"But how much are you telling? That is the question. The White Rose compartments its organization. You could have had no idea who Corbie was and still have come looking for him. Has he been out of touch for a while?"

This sucker was sharp.

My face must have been too studiedly blank. He nodded to himself, scanned the four of us, zeroed in on One-Eye. "The black man. Pretty old, isn't he?"

I was surprised he did not make more of One-Eye's skin color. Black men are extremely rare north of the Sea of Torments. Chances are the Colonel had not seen one before. That a black man, very old, is one of the cornerstones of the Black Company is not exactly a secret.

I did not answer.

"We'll start with him. He looks least likely to stand up."

Tracker asked, "You want me to kill them. Croaker?"

"I want you to keep your mouth shut and stand still, that's what I want." Damn. But Sweet missed the name. Either that or I was less famous than I thought and overdue for ego deflation.

Sweet did seem amazed that Tracker was so confident.

"Take him to the rack." He indicated One-Eye.

One-Eye chuckled and extended his hands to the men who approached him. Goblin snickered. Their amusement disturbed everyone. Me not least, for I knew their senses of humor.

Sweet looked me in the eye. "They find this amusing? Why?"

"If you don't indulge a sudden whim of civilized behavior, you're going to find out."

He was tempted to back down, but decided we were running some colossal bluff.

They took One-Eye to the rack. He grinned and climbed up himself. Goblin squeaked, "I been waiting to see you on one of those things for thirty years. Damned my luck if somebody else doesn't get to turn the crank when the chance finally comes."

"We'll see who turns that crank on who, horse apple," One-Eye replied.

They bantered back and forth. Tracker and I stood like posts. The imperials became ever more disturbed. Sweet, obviously, wondered if he shouldn't take One-Eye down and work on me.

They strapped One-Eye down. Goblin cackled, danced a little jig. "Stretch him till he's ten feet tall, guys," he said. "You'll still have a mental midget."