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Kristen pointed. „Anya. Tilda. Julie. And Sherilee. You met Julie and Sherilee before."

The girls nodded shyly. Except the tiny blonde. She looked him in the eye. But her hands were white and shaking. She clasped them and continued looking at him. That look did not read invitation, but neither did it contain disgust.

„Enjoy yourselves, ladies. Kristen, would you honor an old man with a dance?"

The request surprised her, but only momentarily. „Not that old, I think." She glanced at the blonde. „All right. If it's a Royal command."

His smile declined to a ghost. „It is." He left the dais, caught Inger's puzzled look from the corner of his eye. He wasn't a dancer.

He quickly proved it. He could not follow the steps. „Ah, hell," he gasped. „I just wanted to talk, anyway. Come over here and taste this fizzy wine Cham brought from Delhagen. He tells me it'll become a big export item."

„Talk?" Kristen's eyes sparkled more than did the wine.

„You said something to that Sherilee."

„I? Father!"

„She's young enough to be my daughter."

„I thought men liked women young and fresh. The Krief was fifty years older than Queen Fiana."

„I'm a married man. A king. Whatever. That's a trap I don't need to get into."

„Sounds like you're convincing you."

He grinned half-heartedly, glanced across the hall. The girl was watching through breaks in the crowd. Her timor­ ous look made her more appealing. „So I've got to convince me first. So what? Honest, Kristen. Don't push it. It's too much temptation. I don't know about her, but / couldn't handle it."

Kristen's amusement faded. „You're serious, aren't you?"

„Yeah. Really. I can tell just by looking at her, and from what I know about her, and about how I work inside, that I'd fall like a rock. I'd make a complete fool of myself. That's fun once in a while, but I don't have the time now. I can't handle two mistresses at once. My main lady is headed for some hard times, I think."

She asked her question with a raised eyebrow.

„Kavelin."

„Oh. You think there's going to be trouble?"

„Maybe. I'm trying to head it off. You'll get a feel of it tonight. Listen to what people are talking about. The big subjects this year aren't crop yields and mine production."

„Does it have anything to do with General Liakopulos?"

„It may. Sic her on Michael, why don't you?"

„She's not interested in Michael."

„Damn you. What did you have to say that for? Excuse me." He glanced at Sherilee again. So tiny. Like a toy. And every curve and line of her a match for a fantasy-lover's template. He shook his head viciously. „Damn me, too." He left Kristen looking bemused.

Inger joined him on the dais. Her perpetual mocking smile had shrunk to a minimum. „What was that about?" She did not like Kristen. They were both mothers of candidates for Kavelin's throne.

„Household allowances. She wants a separate tutor for Ainjar and Bragi. She tried her jolly-the-old-man-along approach."

„Grasping little witch. It never fails. The commons... ."

„Inger?"

„Hmm?"

„Hold my hand."

She reached over. Her smile returned. He squeezed once, gently, reassuring himself. „Inger. Don't take this as a shot. But you're holding the hand of a common foot soldier who did a lot of grasping. And you married him."

„What do you mean?"

„I don't think it makes much difference who our parents were. We all take what we can get. Switch a Marena Dimura baby with a Nordmen child and when they're adults they'll act like the people who raised them. Blood doesn't have anything to do with it. Be quiet, Derel."

He and Prataxis had had the blood versus environment argument before. Derel was perfectly willing to take either side. Argument was a game with the scholar.

Inger said, „I try to believe in what you're doing, but it's hard. The most you can make out of a peasant is a peasant in pretty clothes."

„What about his children? It's the children that interest me. And the peasant himself, for that matter." Before she could reply, he added, „I'm indifferent to the quality of a man's speech and table manners, dear. It's what's up here that counts with me." He tapped his temple. „And how well he does his job."

„Like Abaca?" Her sarcasm was thick. She loathed Cre­ dence Abaca.

„Exactly. He has a foul mouth, abominable habits, and the best tactical mind I've ever seen. Ever. Given time, I think we can housebreak him."

„He doesn't even have the qualities of a peasant. Those disgusting people eat insects... ."

„Dear, if blood counts for that much, you and me, we're headed for a heap of trouble."

Her eyes narrowed. Her fighting smile vanished. She leaned forward. A string of blondeness fell over her left eye. „What do you mean?"

„You've got the Greyfells blood. The Greyfells have been traitors, treachers, murderers, and rebels since my grandfa­ ther was a pup. If blood tells, then I'd better have you watched by my fifty most faithful men."

Her face lost expression. The color drained away. She surged to her feet. Crimson replaced her pallor. She sput­ tered in anger.

„Sit down, darling. I was just trying to show you the hole in your argument."

„I don't think that was a very nice way."

„Maybe not. But I think you'll have to concede."

She looked at him hard. „I suppose. If I don't, I might end up sharing my life with your cronies from the Captures team. The Baroness Kartye wants to see me. I'll be back."

„You didn't change her mind," Prataxis said.

„I know. We open the Thing tomorrow. Anything you want to tell them?"

„The discussions were fruitful. The legion in the Gap will allow passage of traders beginning two weeks from tomor­ row. Transport and sale of weapons won't be permitted. Caravaneers will be allowed customary defensive arms. Western caravans won't be allowed east of Throyes. Deal­ ings with Argon, Necremnos, and their tributaries have to be handled through Throyen intermediaries. And we're advised that trade with Matayanga is contingent on the daily military situation."

„Don't sound all that unreasonable to me."

„There'll be squawkers. It's weighted toward the Throyens."

„In this country somebody is always crying about some­ thing. Their caravans will be in the race to get through the Gap anyway."

„Anyone who can afford to assemble a caravan has one put together already. They'll trample each other when I say the magic words."

„Then I wasted a lot of people's time, having them hang around to talk to you."

„There are thoughts to be aired. Viewpoints to share."

„They weren't sharing anything with anybody last week."

„Let me make them mad. They'll say what they're think­ ing."

„I don't... ."

Women screamed near Abaca's Marena Dimura group. Men shouted angrily. Ragnarson heard steel meet steel.

He flung himself off his throne. „Get the hell out of my way!" he roared as he pushed through the crowd. Taller than most of his guests, he saw the surge as the Guards moved in. Good. They had been on their toes. He had not expected to get through the evening without at least one fracas. „Will you get the hell out of my road?" he snarled at a heavy old matron. She promptly threatened a faint.

The Guards had the men separated when he got there. One was Credence Abaca. The other was a young gentleman of the Estates, the son of a baron in town for the Thingmeet. The Baron himself was shoving through the crowd.

Abaca and the youth both shouted accusations. „Shut up!" Ragnarson snapped. „You first." He indicated the younger man.

„He made improper advances to my sister." The young noble was sullen and defensive. It was an attitude increas­ ingly common to his class.

„Credence?"

„I asked her to dance, sir." Abaca had regained his aplomb. Perhaps he had not lost it. He was a tactician in more than the military sense. He was a master manipulator and could be as heartless as a spider. There was no apology in his manner.