“Thank you, your majesty,” Aefric said. “But we need not see to those questions here on the dock.”

  “Your grace,” Ser Yrsa said, “the matter I speak of should not wait.”

  “What’s happened?” Aefric asked, worried now.

  “Silverlake is gathering troops and miners on the northern ridge of the Dragonscar.”

  “How many?” Aefric asked.

  “Five hundred troops, encamped. Thirty miners gathered so far, but more are inbound. And their equipment has not yet arrived.”

  King Colm looked as though he were dying to ask the questions.

  So did Queen Eppida, for that matter.

  “How recent is this information?” Aefric asked.

  “Mid-afternoon. At the first sign of trouble, two days past, I increased our number of scouts watching the Dragonscar, and set up more waystations between here and there. If anything happens, we’ll hear about it within a handful of hours.”

  “A lot can happen in a handful of hours,” King Colm said quietly.

  “Your majesty, I agree,” Ser Yrsa said. “Which is why, while I was increasing our scouting, I began sending troops to muster south of the Dragonscar, outside the line-of-sight of Silverlake.”

  “Cold camp?” Ser Beornric asked.

  “Of course,” Ser Yrsa said. “So far, I do not believe Silverlake knows we’re watching. I wouldn’t risk them seeing our fires.” She turned to Aefric and their majesties. “If Silverlake tries anything, our response will be timely.”

  “How many troops?” Aefric asked.

  “I’ve been making sure we maintain a hundred more than they have, so far.”

  “Siege engines?”

  “We haven’t seen any on their side. I’ve sent up one trebuchet,” she said. “Not for personnel, but to take down any mining equipment.”

  “Good thought,” Aefric said, then turned to King Colm.

  The King arched both eyebrows. “Something your grace wishes to tell me?”

  “Your majesty,” Aefric said, “I’ve wanted to tell you about this since before I knew of your visit. But with your majesty’s permission, this is not the place to discuss it.” He turned to Ser Yrsa. “Unless there’s a need for immediate action?”

  “None I know of, your grace,” Ser Yrsa said. “I merely wished to ensure that your grace was told of the situation at the earliest available moment.”

  “As I should have been told,” King Colm said archly. “Including the reason for this tension between two of my dukes.”

  “Be fair, my love,” Queen Eppida said. “His grace has been rather distracted keeping us safe from assassins.”

  King Colm let out a heavy sigh.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “I believe the length of the day is wearing on me.”

  “Kentigern,” Aefric said, “see that their majesties and their knights settled and refreshed.” He turned to the king. “Shall we reconvene at your majesties’ convenience?”

  “Let us say an hour,” King Colm said, though Queen Eppida frowned. “We can dine together. As I recall, there’s a balcony in your ducal apartments private enough for a conversation such as this one, is there not, your grace?”

  “There is, your majesty,” Aefric said, and bowed. “Until then.”

  Kentigern called forward the senior page, a young woman who, by her poise and bearing, looked ready to graduate from her page training.

  “Your majesties,” Kentigern said, “with your permission, Meliflua here will see your majesties installed in the royal chambers, and provided with anything your majesties might need.”

  At the king’s gesture, Meliflua led their majesties and their four guardian knights past the assemblage and towards the castle.

  Once they were a safe distance away, Aefric began walking that direction himself, with the others falling in around him.

  “Where is Ser Calder?” Aefric asked. “I expected him to be here.”

  “Arguing with Ser Deirdre,” Kentigern said. “Last I saw of him.”

  Aefric got as far as frowning before Ser Yrsa chimed in.

  “Your grace gave Ser Deirdre her task, and she refuses to give her report to anyone but you. This … displeases Calder.”

  Aefric chuckled. “I imagine so. Any actual word from Duke Wylyn? What did Karbin hear from him in Redport?”

  Kentigern answered that one.

  “The way Karbin spoke, it sounded as though Duke Wylyn was entirely focused on finding any who aided and abetted those slavers.”

  “When told of the troops massing on the northern border,” Ser Yrsa said, “Karbin sounded surprised. Remarked that the duke seemed to have no attention at all that direction. But that could have been deliberate deception.”

  “Could be,” Aefric said. “Wylyn’s tough to read. He certainly had a reputation for trickiness, when he was an adventurer. I doubt he’s lost that edge.”

  “Likely not,” Ser Beornric said. “The man still looks as though he were hammered out on a forge.”

  “What news of Ajenmoor?” Aefric asked. “Any update on Captain Brusi’s escape?”

  “Deirdre might know something,” Ser Yrsa said wryly. “No one else seems to.”

  “There is the matter of Morgard,” Kentigern said. “He’s been guest here for close to an aett now.”

  “Right,” Aefric said with a sigh. “Morgard. Did he come forward with anything he wanted to tell us?”

  “Only that he has, in the past, made some deals he is not proud of. Says they were done when he was younger, and more desperate for money. He insists that since he’s been working with Brangford Couglas, his deals have been entirely legitimate.”

  “I think we all know what Deirdre would say to that,” Ser Beornric said with a chuckle. “‘Anything involving Brangford Couglas is questionable at best.’”

  “And what Calder would say to that,” Ser Yrsa said. “‘No evidence.’”

  “You did tell Morgard that we might have to investigate him ourselves?” Aefric asked.

  “I did, your grace,” Kentigern said. “He seems to accept that.”

  “Likely a dead end investigation, though,” Ser Yrsa said. “Unless he’s been sloppy.”

  “There’s a better way,” Kentigern said.

  Aefric stopped walking, just shy of the nearest door into the castle. A private door, that had been enameled and enchanted until it matched the shimmering colors of the castle around it. A door Aefric might not have spotted, had he not known it was there.

  Aefric raised his eyebrows at his seneschal, who was smiling.

  “We have those two eldrani, practically aching to be of service,” Kentigern said.

  “The soul thieves?” Ser Vria said, from nearby. “Your grace, they are not to be trusted.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Ser Vria,” Aefric said. “But it might be a good way to test their skills, and save us a good deal of time and money investigating Morgard.”

  “The cost may be a different coin, your grace,” Ser Vria said.

  “Ser Vria, stand down,” Ser Beornric said.

  She frowned hard, but bowed and backed off.

  “I’ve been speaking with them, your grace,” Kentigern said. “I believe they do mean well, and I believe their skills could aid us here.”

  “Fine,” Aefric said, with a sigh. Happy to get at least one more thing off his desk. “Tell Morgard he may either remain as he is while we complete our investigation, or he can submit himself to a test by the Sinflissacta.”

  “Yes, your grace,” Kentigern said, smiling.

  “And Kentigern,” Aefric said. “I want you watching, when the Sinflissacta do their work. Along with Karbin, studying the magic, and Bebara, in case her skills are needed.”

  Aefric turned to Ser Vria.

  “I want you there as well. Observing only. Do you know what to look for, if they are, in fact, soul thieves? Rather than testers of … destiny and character I think it is?”

  “I believe I know what to look for, your grace,” Ser Vria said, though she sounded uncertain. “I know what the stories told of.”

  “Well, if you spot anything that you believe to be dangerous, point it out to Karbin and Bebara.”

  “I will, your grace,” Ser Vria said softly. “And thank you.”

  “I am listening, Ser Vria,” Aefric said. “And I do value your input.” He looked around at his other five Knights of the Lake. “All your input. But I will make my own decisions. Always.”

  “Yes, your grace,” they all said, and slapped their hilts in agreement.

  “What about Gwawl?” Aefric asked. “Has he been any trouble? Have there been any attempts at a breakout?”

  “None,” Ser Yrsa said. “Guards report that he seems to accept his incarceration. Though he does ask to have his pendant returned.”

  Aefric scoffed.

  “Yes,” Ser Yrsa said. “I told him not to expect that.”

  “Tell him the worthless thing has been destroyed,” Aefric said, with a wicked smile he shared with his knights. That lie might serve him well.

  He turned to Kentigern. “Has Byrhta arrived yet?”

  “Unfortunately,” Kentigern said, “Baroness Regent Byrhta Ol’Caran and Mistress Vercy Ol’Karmak have been delayed in Riverbreak. Some business involving complaints from a group of lers, according to the official letter. Though Mistress Byrhta sent along a private letter for your grace, as well.”

  Pity. He would have loved to have seen Byrhta that night. Talked with her.

  Though perhaps it was for the best, with Maev coming…

  And with his head full of thoughts like these, Aefric set about seeing to his own rest and refreshment.

  Meeting again in an hour turned out to be too ambitious a plan. Queen Eppida insisted on a bath, and from the sound of things, she may have insisted that his majesty join her.

  Aefric took that opportunity for a short bath himself, though he suspected his own was far less entertaining.

  After the bath, he changed into silk. A black, quilted tunic, embroidered with both gold and silver threat, over dark blue hose. His soft leather shoes had been dyed black to match the tunic, and stitched with both gold and silver thread as well. A leather belt, also dyed black, held the wand Garram, but no sword.

  And, of course, he carried the Brightstaff.

  He received word from Dajen that their majesties had food brought to them, so Aefric finally settled on dining alone on his small, private balcony, while he waited. A simple meal of grilled lake salmon with rosemary, potatoes baked with garlic and cheese, and a small variety of roasted green vegetables.

  More important, he had some time to himself. Simple peace and quiet, for a time. Nothing but the gentle breeze coming off the lake, and the distant sounds of workers, far below.

  Peaceful. Meditative. Aefric knew there were things he could have done with that time, but he let all those matters wait for a change.

  Three hours passed that way. Night rose, sprinkling stars across the heavens. The moon, just past full, made its slow, lazy way up the northern sky.

  A pleasant evening. Still a touch of warmth to the air, but not too much.

  Finally the meeting came together, on Aefric’s large public balcony. King Colm, Aefric, Kentigern, and Sers Calder, Beatritz, Yrsa, and Beornric.

  The queen, it seemed, had foregone this meeting to have her own meeting with her sister, Zoleen.

  The king had changed into silks as as Aefric had. A quilted, dark red tunic, embroidered with gold thread, over soft brown hose.

  Kentigern had not changed his clothes, and the knights all wore their full plate.

  King Colm spotted that Ser Calder was the only knight present not bearing arms, and raised his eyebrows at Aefric, who nodded, trying to convey that this was by his order.

  King Colm mimed whistling.

  Ser Beatritz began the conversation.

  “Your majesty, the four Malimfari knights have been arrested, and given four strong cells here at Water’s End.”

  “How did they handle their arrest?” King Colm asked.

  “Well enough,” Ser Beatritz said. “They seemed to expect it.”

  “Well,” King Colm said, “the justiciar is coming at speed. We’ll have truth from them soon enough.”

  With that, they were all seated, and served a good, rich dark beer.

  Aefric began the tale of the Dragonscar. He didn’t get very far into it before his majesty stopped him.

  “Do I understand this right?” King Colm asked. “You not only unbound those borogs, and let them live, but brought them with you into the Dragonscar? As though they were part of your company?”

  “I asked the same question, your majesty,” Ser Calder grumbled.

  “They were a part of my company,” Aefric said. “Their names are Ge’rek and Po’rek, and they played a critical role in the events that followed.”

  “Your grace does remember that it was an army of borogs we faced together?” King Colm asked. “Just there, on the other side of the lake from where we sit?”

  “Your majesty,” Aefric said as patiently as he could, “during the Godswalk Wars those borogs were under the influence of the Flayer. The wars are over. The Flayer has returned to His hell. And the borogs are only people again. As we are.”

  “I doubt very much that the people of your duchy will be as … welcoming of them as your grace.”

  “I said that as well,” Ser Calder grumbled.

  “Ser Calder,” Aefric said, “did his majesty ask?”

  “No, your grace.”

  “Consider that, next time.” To the king, who looked curious about the exchange, Aefric said, “You majesty, the wars are over. Part of healing our people involves getting them past prejudices that crept up during the wars.”

  “That may be. But convincing those whose families were killed by borogs may not be so easy,” King Colm said. “There are still those who harbor resentment toward Malimfar from our last true war with them, decades ago.”

  “The healing must begin somewhere,” Aefric said. “Let it begin with me.”

  “Very well,” the king said with a nod. “I won’t overrule you in this. For now.”

  Aefric frowned. He hadn’t considered that possibility…

  “Do continue, your grace.”

  “Yes, your majesty.” Aefric spoke then of how they traveled into the Dragonscar. How they’d camped for the night, and then faced the late night skirmish with the stone men.

  “And you say the borogs fought alongside you?”

  “Eagerly, your majesty,” Ser Yrsa said. “It’s quite clear that they regard his grace as their chief. They fought to preserve his life, and now they labor in his name.”

  “Labor?” King Colm asked.

  “We’re getting ahead,” Aefric said, and told instead of the injuries and deaths his soldiers suffered against the stone simulacra, and the spell he’d worked to analyze their magic.

  Once he was certain that his majesty understood the gravity of those losses, and Aefric’s confidence in his ability to identify the caster behind that skirmish, he went on to explain about the borogs smelling gold.

  “Truly?” King Colm asked skeptically. “Even the na’shek can’t do that.”

  “Not only can Ge’rek and Po’rek smell gold,” Aefric said, “they can mine it without anything we think of as proper tools.”

  Aefric set one of the large, clean round nuggets on the table in front of his majesty.

  King Colm picked it up. Hefted it. “They dug this out of that cave?”

  “And several others besides. All within the course of a few hours,” Aefric said. “And they presented it just that clean. It seems to be a holy task for them.”

  “And you say they smelled gold from the north side as well as the south side?”

  “Not as much, and only from one cave, but yes, your majesty.”

  “So your question is whether that’s your gold on the north side?”

  “That’s one question, your majesty,” Aefric agreed. “And my historian has been researching possible precedents.”

  “There’s no need for that,” King Colm said casually, handing the gold nugget back to Aefric. “Your grace is entitled to mine one hundred feet outward or downward from the natural borders of that cave, but no farther into Silverlake than that. Anything beyond a hundred feet is Silverlake’s.”

  Aefric was pleased his wasn’t the only confused expression at the table. Of those in that meeting who were not the king, it seemed that only Ser Beatritz understood that ruling.

  King Colm chuckled. Clapped Aefric on the back.

  “It was a planning game my father used to play with me, as his father did with him, and I have with Killian.” King Colm smiled. “I never thought to see it come up in my lifetime, but the question was simple enough. A vassal finds a gold mine on her lands, that extends into the lands of her neighbor. How much of that gold mine is hers?”

  “Why one hundred feet?” Aefric asked. “Not complaining, your majesty, just curious.”

  “Because one hundred feet was the answer chosen by my great-great grandmother, when she came up with the question. It’s been the official answer ever since.”

  “I’ll inform my historian,” Aefric said.

  “If she’s come up with a different answer,” King Colm said, “I’d be interested to know it.”

  “Your majesty,” Kentigern said, “she has not. At least, not as of lunchtime, when I last spoke with her.”

  “Continue, your grace,” King Colm said. “How did you come to believe that Silverlake was behind those spells?”

  Aefric went on to explain about his trip into Silverlake, and his complete certainty that Duke Wylyn’s court wizard, Sifwyn, was responsible for both the detection wards in the Dragonscar, and the attack of the stone men.

  “And there’s no possibility of error here?” King Colm asked.

  “None, your majesty,” Aefric said. “And I shall happily swear such to your majesty’s justiciar.”

  King Colm nodded. Turned to Kentigern. “You said Wylyn is in Redport?”

  “I believe so,” Kentigern said. “If he’s left, I haven’t heard.”

  “Send a rika. He is summoned to me here at Water’s End. At once. He is to bring his wizard, and any others he brought along to Redport.”