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“We need this peace. We cannot match the imperial armies and navy, any more than we can match imperial wealth. In a fight on Tortallan soil, we might prevail, but war of any kind would be long and costly, in terms of lives and in terms of our resources.”
Alanna frowned. “Do we have to bow and scrape and tug our forelocks then, sir? We don’t want to seem weak to these southerners, do we?”
The duke shook his head. “No, but neither should we take risks—particularly not you.”
The Champion, whose temper was famous, blushed crimson and held her tongue.
To the others Duke Gareth said, “Go nowhere we are forbidden to go. Do not speak of freedom to the slaves. However we may dislike the practice, it would be unwise to show that dislike publicly. Accept no gifts, boxes, or paper from anyone unless they come with the knowledge of the emperor. Offer no gifts or pieces of paper to anyone. I understand it is the custom of the palace mages to scatter listening spells through the buildings and grounds. Watch what you say. If a problem arises, let my son, or Lord Martin, or Master Numair know at once.”
“Kitten will be able to detect listening spells,” remarked Numair. “I’m not saying she can’t be magicked, but most of the common sorceries won’t fool her.”
Kitten straightened herself on Daine’s lap and chirped. She always knew what was being said around her. A slim creature, she was two feet long from nose to hip, with a twelve-inch tail she used for balance and as an extra limb. Her large eyes were amber, set in a long and slender muzzle. Immature wings that would someday carry her in flight lay flat on her back. Silver claws marked her as an immortal, one of many creatures from the realms of the gods.
Looking at the dragon, the duke smiled. When his eyes moved on to Daine, the smile was replaced with concern. “Daine, be careful. You’ll be on your own more than the rest of us, though it’s my hope that if you can help his birds, the emperor will let you be. Those birds are his only weakness, I think.”
“You understand the rules?” That was Lord Martin. He leaned around the duke to get a better look at Daine. “No childish pranks. Mind your manners, and do as you’re told.”
Kitten squawked, blue-gold scales bristling at the man’s tone.
“Daine understands these things quite well.” Numair rested a gentle hand on Kitten’s muzzle and slid his thumb under her chin, so she was unable to voice whistles of outrage. “I trust her judgment, and have done so on far more dangerous missions than this.”
“We would not have brought her if we believed otherwise,” said Duke Gareth. “Remember, Master Numair, you, too, must be careful. The emperor was extraordinarily gracious to grant a pardon to you, and to allow you to meet with scholars at the palace. Don’t forget the conditions of that pardon. If he catches you in wrongdoing, he will be able to arrest, try, even execute you, and we will be helpless to stop him.”
Numair smiled crookedly, long lashes veiling his brown eyes. “Believe me, Your Grace, I don’t plan to give Ozorne any excuse to rescind my pardon. I was in his dungeons once and see no reason to repeat the experience.”
The duke nodded. “Now, my friends—it is time we prepared to dock. I hope that Mithros will bless our company with the light of wisdom, and that the Goddess will grant us patience.”
“So mote it be,” murmured the others.
