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allegiance of a kingdom older even than the long…gone Imperium of Nabban。〃 His voice wavered dangerously。 〃Why do my subjects skulk like whipped dogs？〃
〃They are ignorant peasants； sire；〃 Helfcene said。 A drop of sweat hung on his nose。
〃I think that someone here has been stirring up trouble in my absence；〃 Elias said with frightful deliberation。 〃I would like to know who has been spreading tales。 Do you hear me； Helfcene？ I must find out who thinks they know the good of Osten Ard better than does her High King。 Go now； and when I see you next； have something to tell me。〃 He pulled at the skin of his face； angrily。 〃Some of these be…damned； stay…at…home nobles need to see the shadow of the gibbet； I think。 That may remind them who rules this land。〃
The bead of sweat finally fell free of Helfcene's nose； spattering on the tile floor。 The chancellor nodded briskly and several other drops； strangely numerous on a cool afternoon； leaped from his face。
〃Of course； my Lord。 It is good； so good； to have you back once more。〃 He rose to a half crouch； bowed again； then turned and walked quickly from the throne room。
The thump of the great door closing echoed up amidst the the ceiling beams and serried banners。 Elias leaned back against the vast spreading cage of yellowed bones； rubbing at his eye sockets with the backs of his powerful hands。
〃Guthwulf； e here；〃 he said； voice muffled。 The Earl of Utanyeat stepped forward； feeling a strange but pelling urge to flee the room。 Pryrates hovered at Elias' elbow； his face smooth and emotionless as marble。
Even as Guthwulf reached the Dragonbone Chair； Elias dropped his hands to his lap。 The blue circles beneath his eyes made it seem as though the king's gaze had pulled back farther into his head。 For a moment it almost seemed to the earl that the king was peering out of some dark hole； some trap into which he had fallen。
〃You must protect me from treachery； Guthwulf。〃 A ragged fringe of desperation sounded in Elias' words。 〃I am vulnerable now； but there are great things ing。 This land will see a Golden Age such as the philosophers and priests have only dreamed of…but I must survive。 I must survive； or all will be ruined。 All will be ashes。〃 Elias leaned forward； grasping Guthwulf s callused hand with fingers cold as fish tails。
〃You must help me； Guthwulf。〃 A powerful note ran through his straining voice。 For a moment； the earl heard his panion of many battles and many taverns the way he remembered him； which only made the king's words all the more painful。 〃Fengbald and Godwig and the rest are fools；〃 Elias said。 〃Helfcene is a frightened rabbit。 You are the only one in all the world I can trust…besides Pryrates here； that is。 You are the only ones whose loyalty to me is plete。〃
The king slumped back and covered his eyes again； clenching his teeth as though in pain。 He waved Guthwulfs dismissal。 The earl looked up to Pryrates； but the red priest only shook his head and turned to refill Ellas' goblet。
As he pushed open the door of the chamber and walked out into the lamplit hallway； Guthwulf felt a heavy stone of fear settle in his gut。 Slowly； he began to consider the unthinkable。
Miriamele pulled away； freeing her hand from Count Streawe's grasp。 She took a sudden step backward and fell into a chair that the man in the skull mask had slid up behind her。 For a moment she only sat； crapped。
〃How did you know it was me？〃 she asked at last。 〃That I was ing here？〃
The count chuckled； extending a crabbed finger to tap the fox mask he had discarded。 〃The strong rely on strength；〃 he said。 〃The not…so…strong must be clever and quick。〃
〃You haven't answered my question。〃
Streiwe raised an eyebrow。 〃Oh？〃 He turned to his skull…faced helper。
〃You may go； Lenti。 Wait with your men outside。〃
〃It's raining；〃 Lenti said mournfully； bone…white face bobbing； eyes peering from the black sockets。
〃Then wait upstairs； fool！〃 the count said testily。 〃I will ring the bell when I need you。〃
Lend sketched a bow； then darted a glance at Miriamele and went out。
〃Ah； that one；〃 Streawe sighed； 〃he is like a child sometimes。 But still； he does what he is told。 That is more than I can say for many of those who serve me。〃 The count pushed the decanter of wine toward Brother Cadrach； who sniffed at it suspiciously； obviously torn。 〃Oh； drink it；〃 the count snapped。 〃Do you think I would go to all this trouble to drag you across Ansis Pelippe and then poison you in one of my own residences？ If I had wished you dead； you would have been facedown in the harbor before you reached the end of the gangplank。〃
〃That doesn't make me any easier；〃 Miriamele said； beginning to feel like herself again…and more than a little angry。 〃If your intentions are honorable。 Count； then why were we brought here by the threat of knives？〃
〃Did Lenti tell you he had a knife？〃 Streawe asked。
〃He certainly did；〃 Miriamele responded tartly。 〃Do you mean that he doesn't？〃
The old man chortled。 〃Blessed Elysia； of course he does。 Dozens of the things； all shapes； all lengths； some sharpened on both sides； some forked into a double blade…Lenti has more knives than you have teeth。〃 Streawe chuckled again。 〃No； it's just that I keep telling him not to announce it constantly。 All around the town they call him Lenti 'Avi Stetto。' 〃
Streawe stopped laughing for a moment； wheezing slightly。
Miriamele turned to Cadrach for explanation； but the monk was absorbed in a goblet of the count's wine； which he had apparently decided was safe。
〃What does 。 。 。 'Avi Stetto' 。 。 。 mean？〃 she finally asked。
〃It's Perdruinese for 'I have a knife。' 〃 Streawe shook his head fondly。 〃He does know how to use his toys； though； that one does。 。。。〃
〃How did you know about us； sir？〃 Cadrach asked； wiping his lips with the back of his hand。
〃And what are you going to do to us？〃 Miriamele demanded。
〃As to the first；〃 Streawe said； 〃as I told you； the weak must have their ways。 My Perdruin is not a country whose might makes others tremble； so we must instead have very good spies。 Every port in Osten Ard is an open market of knowledge； and all of the best brokers belong to me。 I knew you had left Naglimund before you reached the River Greenwade； I have had people taking note of your progress ever since。〃 He picked a reddish fruit out of a bowl on the table top and began peeling it with trembling fingers。 〃As to the second；〃 he said； 〃well； that is a pretty question。〃
He was struggling with the fruit's tough rind。 Miriamele； feeling a sudden and unexpected sympathy for the old count； reached out and gently took it from him。
〃Let me do it；〃 she said。
Streawe raised an eyebrow； surprised。 〃Thank you； my dear。 Very kind。 So； then； the question of what I should do with you。 Well； now； I must admit that when I first got word of your 。 。 。 temporarily detached state 。 。 。 it occurred to me that there might be more than a few who would pay for word of your whereabouts。 Then； later； when it became clear you would be changing ship here in Ansis Pelippe； I realized that those who would find value in mere tidings