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She stared down at her plate. “Yes, Patera.”

“Is there anyone else? What about Master Xiphias?”

“I have not this pleasure.” Siyuf’s eyes remained upon Chenille.

“Master Xiphias is my fencing teacher and my friend, as well as the best swordsman I have ever seen.”

“Rich, too, lad! Rich! You asked me to open the window, remember? Up there in Ermine’s! Everybody heard you! Think they’d stay away after that? Breaking my door down! Doubled my charges Molpsday, tripled them yesterday. It’s the truth!”

“I am happy for you,” Siyuf told him. “Your Calde speaks of swordsmen. He has never seen a swordswoman, perhaps. Soon we must cross blades for him.”

Silk recalled Hyacinth’s feigned fencing with the azoth; to hide what he felt, he said, “We are neglecting the cornet. Neither Generalissimo Siyuf nor I have met you, Cornet. That is our loss, beyond doubt. Are you a swordsman? As a cavalry officer, you must be.”

“I am Cornet Mattak, Calde,” the young officer a

“You must recover your health first,” his father told him.

Quetzal murmured, “I will pray for him, Generalissimo. We augurs teach others to pray for their foes. We try, at least. We seldom get a chance to pray for ours, because we have so few. I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

Maytera Marble was equally grateful for the opportunity to turn the talk to religion. “It’s Lord Pas who teaches us that, isn’t it, Your Cognizance?”

“No, Maytera.” Quetzal’s hairless head swayed from side to side above his long, wrinkled neck.

Mattak said, “I want to apologize, Your Cognizance. I’ve been feverish…” His voice faded as he met Quetzal’s gaze.

“My son has horrible dreams,” Oosik explained to the table at large. “Even when he is awake—” He was interrupted by the arrival of the wine, a huge bottle rich with dust and cobwebs.

“We’ve an extensive cellar here,” Silk told Siyuf, “laid down by my predecessor. Experts tell me a good deal of it may have soured, however. I know nothing about such things myself.”

The sommelier poured him a half finger, releasing a light aroma suggestive of wildflowers. “Not this, Calde.”

“No, indeed.” Silk swirled the pale fluid in his glass. “I really don’t need to taste it. No ceremony could mean less.” He tasted it nonetheless, and nodded.

“Except these introductions,” Bison said unexpectedly, “if the generalissimo’s intelligence is as good as I imagine. I’m Colonel Bison, Generalissimo.

“They are not,” Siyuf told him, “yet I hear of you, and I receive a description I find accurate.” She let the sommelier half fill her wineglass, then waved him away. “You are Mint’s chief subordinate. Not long ago you are upon the same footing as many others. Now you are their superior, answerable to her alone. Is it not so?”

“I’m her second in command, yes.”

“So well regarded that Calde Silk closets himself with you before this di

Siyuf paused, glancing around the table. “There is but one other I do not know. That thin girl beside my Colonel Abanja. She is also of the calde’s household? Pretty Chenille, you must know her. Tell me.”

“Her name’s Mucor, and she’s Maytera’s granddaughter,” Chenille explained. “We take care of her.”

“This is by adoption, I take it.”

Chenille hesitated, then nodded.

“Hello, Mucor. I am Generalissimo Siyuf from Trivigaunte. Are we to hope that you will soon be a fine strong trooper? Or a holy woman like your grandmother?”

Mucor did not reply. The sommelier paused, his bottle poised above her wineglass. Maytera Marble put her left hand over it, and Silk shook his head.





“I see. This is not fortunate. Calde Silk, you know of my General Saba, and you have heard the names of Colonel Abanja and Major Hadale, also. Will you not tell me of the empty chair at your left? I did not read the little card before sitting.

“Wait!” Siyuf raised her hand. “Let me to guess. Mine is the place of honor. I am your distinguished guest. But in the second is not Generalissimo Oosik as I expect, but another. It is then for someone deserving of exceptional honor, and not one of us, for Crane who saved you from the enemy is now dead.”

Surreptitiously, Silk made the sign of addition.

“Tell me if I am right as far as I have gone. If Crane is living and I am wrong, I like to know.”

“No, he’s dead. I wish it weren’t so.”

A waiter whose livery differed from the others came in with a tray of hors d’oeuvres; as he set the first small plate before Siyuf, Silk recognized him as Hossaan.

If Siyuf herself had recognized him as well, she gave no indication. “Then Crane must be dismissed. Each officer here was permitted a subordinate. That is our custom, and I think it a good one. For me, Colonel Abanja, for my General Saba is Major Hadale, and for your own generalissimo his son. But there is here also Colonel Bison. Mint herself is not present.”

“You’re entirely correct,” Silk told Siyuf, still studying Hossaan out of the corner of his eye; he handed Maytera Mint’s placecard to Siyuf He had invited Bison himself and forgotten to tell him that he could bring a subordinate, but there seemed little point in mentioning it.

“Bird eat?” The hors d’oeuvres included clams from Lake Limna, and Oreb regarded them hungrily.

“Of course,” Silk told him. “Come down and take whatever you fancy.”

Oreb fluttered nervously. “Girl say.”

“Me?” Chenille looked up at him. “Why Oreb, how nice! I’m flattered, I really and truly am. I always thought you liked Auk better.” She gulped, and Maytera Marble directed a searching glance at her. “Only I don’t blame you, because I do too. I’ll get a bunch of these, and you can have anything you want, like Patera says.” Oreb glided from the chandelier.

Siyuf asked Silk, “He is dead, this Auk?”

Silk shook his head.

“He is not, and so this card,” Siyuf held it up, “should be for him. Is that not so? He is alive, you say. But your General Mint is as dead as my Doctor Crane.”

Quetzal asked, “Are you sure, Generalissimo? I have good reasons for thinking otherwise.”

“You have cut open some sheep.”

“Many, I fear.”

“A god speaks to us, also. Sublime Sphigx cares more for us than any other city. She alone of the gods speaks to us in our ancient tongue, speaking as we did in my mother’s house, and as we speak in mine.”

Silk said, “The High Speech of Trivigaunte? I’ve heard of it, but I don’t believe I’ve ever heard the language itself. Could you say something for us? A prayer or a bit of poetry?”

Siyuf shook her head. “It is not for amusement at di

Mattak started to protest, but Siyuf raised her voice. “We who are near the heart of Sphigx do not butcher beasts to read her will in offal. Each day we pray to her, and do not tease her with questions but offer sincere praise. When we wish to know a thing, we go and find it out. Your Mint has been shot.” She looked at Saba for confirmation, and Saba nodded.

“This is not pleasant,” Siyuf continued, “and I would like that I am not the one to say it. She went to treat with the enemy, is that not so?”

From Saba’s right, Bison answered, “Yes. It is.”

“With a holy man to safeguard. The enemy has killed both. Captured, they say, but I have spoken to their leader, this man Loris, and he ca

“Your Mint was of greatest spirit. I would have liked to speak to her. Even a bout with practice swords, this old man to see fair play. All I have heard says plainly that she was of greatest spirit, and I am sure that when she, who had come to talk peace, was made prisoner she would resist. Some fool shot her and her holy man also, a filthy crime. I learned of this after our parade and already I have set our Labor Corps to dig. We will find these tu