Upon entering the grand foyer of the house, Lilani spoke a series of quick orders to the butler in Faenish, which he received with nothing more than a stiff bow, and then he turned to address Josheb, who despite himself was still staring at the towering luxury around him. “Josheb, yes?”

“Yes,” said Josheb, tearing his eyes from the vaulted ceiling of carved wood, the stone staircase, the statues, the paintings, the tapestries, the intricately carved wall panels—

“Milei, yes?”

“Yes.”

The butler bowed, a little less stiffly than he had to Lilani. “Adam,” he said, introducing himself.

“The honor is mine, Adam,” replied Josheb, bowing in return.

“This way,” said Adam, and led him through a small door into a passageway, and from there down a narrow flight of stairs to the servants’ quarters, to a plain room with a comfortable bed, a chair, and an armoire. High on one wall was a tiny window, no doubt just at ground level, but even for Josheb it was too high to see through without standing on the chair. The only view it would normally afford was of a small square slice of the sky behind the manor.

“Dinner soon,” said Adam. “A bell will ring three times. You will not, uhm, serve. You will eat. Good clothes. Fancy. Let me see,” Adam continued, moving toward the armoire.

“See what? My clothes? They’re still coming from the train….” Josheb trailed off as Adam opened the wardrobe to reveal that all of his belongings had already been not only delivered but unpacked. These people worked quickly.

“This will do,” said Adam, extracting Josheb’s finest coat and pantaloons, the ones he wore when meeting with thoroughly highborn clients, and laying them over the bed. “Shoes, shine. And hair. Make good. Clean. I will show you.” Adam led him out of the room again and down a couple of doors to the men’s common bath chamber, a white-tiled, lamp-lit dungeon of steam and soap. “Make clean and dress. Not much time.”

“I understand,” said Josheb. “Don’t worry about me.”

Adam nodded, but he did worry, and Josheb understood why. He, Josheb, was a servant, yet expected at dinner, and it was Adam’s responsibility to get him there and in a proper form that would not cause embarrassment for the family of the house. If Josheb should fail in any element of decorum, then no matter how he tried to take responsibility upon himself, Adam would bear the burden of it. The butler bowed again, hesitated for a moment, and then departed. Josheb returned to his quarters, closed the door behind him, and sighed a long sigh. Even without the burden of manual labor, it had been a long day for his body. Being wounded was always an inconvenience.

To Adam’s great relief, Josheb was precisely on time to dinner, and dressed fit to charm a prince, with the one exception that he yet wore his sword. Adam pursed his lips at it but did not argue the point when he saw the look in Josheb’s eye.

This was not Josheb’s first formal affair, and he was good at his job. A professional, as Doris had said. Among his carefully cultivated skills was that of observing local customs, especially amongst the elite and royal classes (and asking incisive questions of their servants as necessary), so as to blend seamlessly with court decorum. He did the same now. Adam the butler announced him—“Danyet va Josheb-i Milei.”—and Josheb entered. Everyone was standing, so he stood. The men and women mingled, so he mingled, but carefully, watching for subtle invitations. Doris was there with Lilani. Gillet was there as well, but not with Lilani and Doris. Instead, she was off to the side, in the company of a young man who seemed about her age and, to Josheb’s eye, almost as feminine and beautiful as any of the ladies, in his polished buckled shoes, lace-cuffed jacket, and silk scarf. Gillet attended to him as he regaled her with some sort of story in Faenish, and she occasionally granted him a polite laugh. Lilani, meanwhile, lifted her chin toward Josheb ever so slightly. That was his cue. He made his way gracefully through the crowd, weaving rather than demanding passage through his betters, and there were more than a few of those here. What space the dining hall offered around the long table was almost full with fancy men and fancy women, and all of them had an eye for the foreign mercenary with the long-handled blade as he passed by.

He approached, bowing as he had seen servants bow so far today. “My lady,” he said in Eledrin.

“Josheb, welcome, welcome! Father,” Lilani called, raising her voice and putting her hand on the shoulder of an elder gentleman, one of several conversing close by her. None seemed to mind the interruption. “This is Josheb of the Milei,” she said in her lightly accented, elegant, and flawless Eledrin. “Lady Doris’s man. I mentioned he will be dining with us this evening.”

“Ya yedivna,” replied her father, before switching to Eledrin himself, his slightly more accented and slightly less flawless, but still elegant and practiced. “Welcome, Sir Josheb. I am Aiham Píe. It is an honor to have a warrior of your proud people with us in my house. Are you comfortable? Here in Mazastar, we welcome all people of all, mm, heritage or creed. Do not worry over our customs, but make yourself at home as you would in your own village.”

“Most gracious, Master,” said Josheb, bowing again. “I will try to be a worthy guest.”

“And this, this is your milëi, the weapon of your people? Will you privilege us to see it, or must it stay sheathed and only drawn at need?”

“It is only a tool, Master,” said Josheb, drawing the sword with a reverse grip so that its blade lay back along his forearm, guarded and controlled in the confines of the crowd. He proffered its hilt to Aiham, who took it delicately but without hesitation, and was not so careful in how he turned it about, leaving the crowd to make room as they might or suffer the consequences.

“A fine weapon, and well cared for. The Milei do not disappoint. It’s length is about that of our arming swords, but the hilt is long. The balance is a bit far toward the pommel.”

“If you choke the cross, Master. We do not traditionally hold it so close.”

“Mm, I see. Interesting design. Curious. I wonder how your people came by it.”

“An ancient tradition, Master.”

“No doubt! No doubt. Shuté, agnabli ansa a monmoshula….” Aiham shared a thought with his companion in Faenish, and they resumed speaking almost as if Josheb had melted into the floor and so out of their attention. Aiham handed the sword back to Josheb absently. Josheb took it, and resheathed it, decidedly less absently.

“A lovely weapon, Sir Josheb,” said Lilani. “Don’t mind Father. These dinners are as much work for him as pleasure. Come, let me show you your seat for the night. They will serve any moment.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

When the servants did enter, the diners remained standing, so Josheb remained standing. The kitchen staff exited after depositing their cargo, and the rest, the waitstaff, lined up along the walls on either side of the room. This seemed to be the cue for the diners to approach the table, and this they did together, men and women alike, so Josheb moved with them, making certain to be not quite the last to his chair. He discovered then that Lilani had arranged for hers directly opposite his, with Doris on her right hand and another young woman on her left. And after that one, a young man who looked not quite so foppish as the one who had been monopolizing Gillet’s time, and then one of the older men, and then the head of the table, where sat Aiham. On Josheb’s side of the table, to his immediate right, sat a man about Josheb’s age, perhaps a few years older, who occasionally looked across the table at the young woman beside Lilani but mostly conversed with the older gentlemen between himself and Aiham. This one had the look and movement of a hard man, likely military, though he wore nothing to indicate it. Josheb wondered who he might be, but all of the conversation about him was carrying on in Faenish, of which he knew only a few words, and he was last on the minds of these men, which suited him fine.

To his left, the guests were younger, for the most part, and if not younger then certainly less important. The lady of the house sat at that end, and by her a woman older still. Gillet was down there (far from Lilani, Josheb did not fail to note), along with a young man who certainly was her brother, bearing as they did a strong family resemblance. The foppish man was there, too, still speaking fit for three and not letting the country bumpkins get a word in edgewise. A couple of others filled the space between them and Josheb, and that made the complement of the table. They sat as one, men and women together, when the master of the house sat, and the waitstaff advanced then and began to prepare their plates for them while they took up their wine glasses and continued to chat.

The meal left nothing to be desired, being rich with fatty meats and offals, vegetable minces, sweet preserves, and an assortment of fresh breads in various colors. (Josheb had seen breads in various colors before, but he had never before seen various colors of bread served at one table.) As plates were filled, diners began to dine in no particular order, so when his had food on it, Josheb partook.

“…certainly very nice,” he overheard Doris saying in Eledrin. “And no, I don’t find it strange at all.” “Then our two peoples are of like refinement,” replied Lilani likewise. She was still using the language for Doris’s benefit, and several others nearby began using it as well. Josheb wondered a little that so many local Mazastran would speak Eledrin so well. It was the language of diplomacy and learning outside Mazastar, certainly, and around the known world, anyone who was anyone, or who wanted to be anyone, had to know it. But Mazastar, Josheb saw now, was different. Mazastran people could afford not to learn the languages of others, if they so chose, for their technological prowess and industrial might were far beyond anything else Josheb had ever heard of, much less seen. They needed little, if anything, from other nations, and they had much that other nations would covet. Even Eledring itself, the world’s largest and greatest empire (at least on this side of the ocean), though vast in its reach and influence, was primitive in its capabilities compared to Mazastar. He wondered how long that state of affairs could go on before the next emperor came along and decided that the days of peace and stable borders had lasted long enough, and that the conquest of the City That Brings Light would be the perfect crowning jewel for his achievements as potentate.

“But you must tell us of your own homeland,” said the young lady to Lilani’s left. “Are you a princess, there?”

“We don’t have princes and princesses, really. I’m more of a scholar than anything.”

“Really? What do you study? And do you not have any royalty? Is your nation like ours, then, with an elected council chosen from the finest universities and institutions?”

“Is that how your government is, mm, made?” asked Doris. “You elect your leaders?”

“Oh, yes, everyone has a vote, here. Even the humblest servant votes for our leaders.”

“A democracy,” mused Doris, using a word unfamiliar to Josheb. “But you say the leaders come from the finest institutions?”

“Oh, yes, certainly. You would not want a country to be run by common folk who have no education. That would be a disaster; everyone knows that. Even the common folk would not vote for one of their own. The leaders must be masters in science, medicine, engineering, finance, and administration, so that they know how to lead the city.”

“Sounds very reasonable,” said Doris. To Josheb, it sounded rehearsed, even recited. “But how do you make certain that only qualified people are elected?” She and the girl were speaking across Lilani, who sat between them, leaning back in her seat and appearing quite amused. Lilani found Josheb’s eye and offered him a wry, knowing smile, as if to invite him into the joke with her. He did her the courtesy of returning it, just a little, and giving her the slightest nod. It would have been rude to do otherwise.

“Well, you know, you can’t vote for a person if he’s not a candidate, first. Obviously, a person won’t be a candidate if he’s not qualified.”

“Who decides who is qualified to be a candidate?”

“The council.”

“The council decides who can be a candidate for the council?”

“Yes. And then the people are allowed to vote, and the voting bureau counts the votes and announces the winners, who become the next council.”

“Fascinating,” said Doris.

“Mori, I think you’ve bent the lady’s ear enough,” said the man across from her, the military man sitting to Josheb’s right.

“No, no, I am here to learn,” protested Doris. “I think your city has much to teach the world, and I would learn as much as I can and bring that knowledge home to my people.”

“Oh, that is so marvelous,” said the girl, whose name apparently was Mori. “Did they send you out on such a mission, or did you just decide that you would go, one day?”

“No, I was sent, but I certainly volunteered also. How could I miss such an opportunity as this?”

“Marvelous! Isn’t that marvelous, sister?” she asked of Lilani.

“Oh, yes, simply marvelous,” replied Lilani, with something of the air of a serpent.

“How long have you been traveling? Where is your country? Is it very far?”

“Ashte, Mori!” said the man, causing her to look at little sheepish and lower her gaze.

“It’s quite far,” said Doris, jumping to answer, Josheb could tell, as much in defense of the younger sister’s curiosity as to provide information. A sympathetic fellow inquisitor. “Quite far. Maybe beyond measure from here. I have been on the road for weeks, and that is after crossing—ahem, crossing the sea.”

“So you do come from the East, then,” said the man on Josheb’s right. “Perhaps I have heard of your country. I did a tour with an Eledrin trade expedition to the East some years ago.”

“Perhaps,” said Doris. “I’m sorry, I did not hear your name, sir.”

“Forgive me, I am Groga. Groga Wiedefane.”

“Commandant Wiedefane,” said Lilani, “of our own Mazastran Expeditionary Guard Corps. A high-ranking officer, and a rather famous one, also.”

“Hardly famous beyond the walls of my own house, and rather more notorious within them,” said Groga. Josheb had not previously been familiar with the word “notorious” in Eledrin, but he was able to put together the joke, and it seemed that Doris managed likewise.

“And, I should add, soon to be brother Groga to myself and Myram,” said Lilani.

“Oh?” asked Doris. “By marriage, I guess?”

“Indeed so,” replied Groga. “It is my great pleasure to be betrothed of Miss Mori.”

“That’s wonderful!” exclaimed Doris. “I congratulate you! When will you marry?”

“In the winter,” said the Commandant. “My sister is away, and it would be a terrible crime, I’m told, to marry in her absence.”

“You would never see the end of her vengeance,” said Lilani.

“Yours, you mean,” suggested the young man on Mori’s left, as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. Mori smiled, while Lilani leaned forward to look over at the fellow and raise her eyebrows. “Don’t look at me that way,” he said.

“Hm,” replied Lilani, sitting back and resuming her meal.

The young man leaned forward now, so that he could see past Mori and Lilani to Doris. “Make no mistake, my lady. Our precious Lilani is a fierce guardian of custom. And notoriously cut-throat.”

“Oh, I see,” said Doris.

“My lady,” added Commandant Groga from across the table, “have you met my friend?”

“Mm, a thousand pardons, my lady,” said the young man. “Rorish Sen. Captain in the Expeditionary Guard. The Commandant’s inferior in years and rank—”

“And courtesy,” said Lilani.

“—but not in valor,” continued he, without missing a beat. “Or charm.”

Lilani huffed.

“You take umbrage at being called cut-throat?” asked Rorish. “I would call it a compliment.” He grinned at Doris. “And in any case,” he continued, “we’ve all heard stories of young Lilani improving the beauty of her dolls with surgical tools.”

That caused Lilani’s eyes to widen and shoot daggers, and now Rorish chuckled.

“You laugh,” said the Commandant to his young protégé. “I know your family also, and have it on good authority you were doing things far more unspeakable at that age.”

“I can’t imagine to what you might be referring,” replied Rorish.

“So, if I may ask,” said Doris, “are your families related?”

“By blood, no,” replied Commandant. “But they’ve been close for more than a generation. Aiham Píe sponsored my entry to Officer Candidate School, and I knew Lilani and Mori and Myram from their youth. Rorish here, meanwhile, is but a stray I seem to have picked up along the way. I didn’t know at the time he was such a cad. But he is gifted in certain matters, despite himself. If he will but learn a modicum of decorum, he’ll make a decent commander, someday. Meanwhile, my betrothed and her family do me the great courtesy of tolerating his puerile behavior. Miss Mori, truly, you and your family, including Lilani, though she does much to hide it, are the most gracious and generous of friends. As your father opened his door and his heart to me and to my sister, so you have opened your hearts to Rorish and now to our new friends. To sit at this table is to be one family, and that is a rare treasure.”

“Hear hear,” said Rorish, raising his glass.

Commandant Groga raised his, and Mori hers, even as she was smiling with lowered eyes. A demure girl, shy. No doubt overshadowed all her life by her ferocious older sister, thought Josheb. Doris and Lilani raised their glasses, and Josheb casually laid his hand about the stem of his glass, just in case anyone noticed him and expected him to participate in the toast, but they did not look to him.

“And,” continued the Commandant, “while we have our fun at sister Lilani’s expense, she is a treasured guardian of all who fall under her wing. The warrior of the family. Such is her talent, to love as swiftly as her father and sister do, but, those she loves, to defend mercilessly. So, yes, I would face Lilani’s wrath if I were to go through with the marriage before my sister returned home to witness it, and rightly so. Lady Lilani, a toast to your warrior’s spirit and the enormous heart behind it.”

Again glasses were raised, and Lilani bowed her head in perfect graceful acceptance of the compliment. Again Josheb positioned his hand out of an abundance of caution, and this time he was glad that he did, for the Commandant looked over at him then and proffered the toast his way.

“Certainly, Master,” said Josheb, meeting the salute. “The lady is one-of-a-kind.”

The Commandant nodded and sipped, and Josheb followed his lead while watching the reactions of the others around him. Most smiled and acknowledged him with their glasses and with small nods. Lilani, meanwhile, looked up at him past her brow with eyes of lightning and a grin as predatory as it was fleeting. Josheb sighed inwardly.

“Du avne bet?” asked one of the elder gentlemen off to the right, in Faenish.

Rorish replied in their tongue and raised his glass again.

“Suun! Avneva!” said the man, and he and his colleagues, including Lilani’s father, raised their glasses. “Avneva!” they said in unison, toasting toward Lilani.  And then they returned to their own conversation.

“But enough of family dramas,” said Rorish, resuming in Eledrin. “We have guests. Sister Lilani, will you introduce us?”

“Of course,” said Lilani. “Here, Lady Doris of, hmm, parts unknown. A scholar and adventurer. And here, Sir Josheb of the Milei, her swordsman.”

“A true privilege, sir,” said Rorish, bowing his head toward Josheb. “And lady,” he added, leaning forward again to look over at Doris. “I would love to hear more of your travels, and of course the land from which you come.”

“Yes, I am curious as well,” said the Commandant, seemingly unaware of any hypocrisy. Josheb glanced at Mori and judged that she also had missed it.

“Please excuse me, but there is only so much I can say, for now,” replied Doris. “You would say ours is a secretive people. I am very happy to share stories of my travels, though. I hope I do not offend.”

“Offend? No. Only build mystique, which is well done,” said the Commandant. “We’ll have a few of your secrets before we’re through, though. The Píes’ wines are second to none.”

“I noticed that,” said Doris with a grin. “You may indeed before the night is done.”

“And Sir Josheb? How long have you been the lady’s man at arms?”

“Not long. Less than a month, and only across the Roque.”

“But I thought you came across Eledrin,” said Mori to Doris.

“Yes, I did, in other company. But I had to leave that party behind. That’s why I needed a new bodyguard. Fortunately, I was able to find a man who not only knew this country but also was a warrior of skill and honor. I could not have come here without his help.”

“Is there anything more noble than a good and faithful servant?” offered the Commandant.

“There could not possibly be,” said his junior officer.

“How did you come into her service?” asked Mori. “Are you a knight? I understand many kingdoms still have knights who swear themselves to ladies.”

“A mercenary, my lady,” said Josheb. “Only a sword for hire, to the highest bidder.”

“Oh,” said she, her expectations of romance fading from her face. “Is that regular?”

“Quite regular, my dear,” said the Commandant. “Especially across the holdings of Eledring, mercenary armies are common and, as Josheb states, open to the highest bidder. They know no loyalty but to gold.” He glanced toward Josheb. “Meaning no offense, of course. I have known mercenaries who were among the fiercest and bravest of warriors.”

“Certainly, none taken, Master. Mercenary work is as you say, loyalty to the coin, and the code of the professional.” Josheb did not display the wry smile that he felt inside himself. The Commandant’s sentiments were no surprise to him. Warriors of a patriotic tradition shared a common regard for mercenaries. The Commandant was being truthful when he said he meant no offense, just as he was being truthful in his tone, which made clear his disdain for the notion of a warrior killing for money.

“But weren’t you frightened, placing your life in such hands?” asked Mori of Doris. “Clearly, Sir Josheb is a man of honor, but how could you know for certain?”

“You must take some risks on the road; but I am, I think, a fair judge of character,” replied Doris. “Meeting Josheb, I immediately sensed his honesty. There was nothing false in him.”

“Like a bull,” said Lilani as she looked across the table at him. “Direct and forthright. He charges with his horns, straight on. Simple, in the most honorable way. I had the same sense the moment I met him.”

“Yes,” said Doris after a moment’s thought. “I suppose you could say it that way. I hope that is not offensive to you, Sir Josheb,” she said, and he could see in her eyes a genuine care. No doubt she was honestly thinking about whether, “in his culture,” comparison to a bull would be complimentary or insulting.

“Certainly not,” said Josheb. “The bull is a proud animal. Strong, dangerous, a protector of his herd. And, as the lady suggests, straightforward and without guile.” He met Lilani’s eye as he said it. Doris looked relieved. What she could not know was that, under the table, Lilani’s toes were running up and down Josheb’s shin ever so deftly throughout this exchange.

“And what of family?” asked Rorish. “For the mercenary, and for the adventurer. Anyone at home, waiting for you, my lady?”

“For me?” Doris shook her head. “No. At home I am married to my books, and to my mission.”

“None at all? Not even a suitor? I find that hard to believe,” replied Rorish. “A lady of such intelligence and courage, and of no small fame, I’m sure, among your people, to be selected as you were for this expedition. It’s quite a thing, you know, to represent your entire people to a foreign land. You do them proud, my lady.”

“Oh, my! Well, thank you! Truly. I am just… I mean, I was really the only choice, for… this—I mean, this sort of thing is my expertise.”

“Of course,” said the Commandant. “As we don’t send a cabin-boy to captain a ship, or a green pikeman to lead a campaign, so we don’t send a student in his first year at academy to represent our nation abroad in diplomacy and national intercourse. Come, enough pretense, my lady. Are you of a royal house, or a trained statesman? You are someone of import to your nation.”

For a long moment Doris was quiet, looking at Commandant Groga, and then at Rorish, and then at Mori and Lilani, the latter gazing back at her with cool expectation, waiting to see how she might try to escape. Finally, she bowed her head a little. “Languages and culture,” she said. “Among my people, I am the leading scholar of foreign languages and foreign culture. It has always been my passion.”

“Fascinating,” said Rorish. “Like our own Mazastar, your people vest trust in skill and excellence. Rule by philosophers. Truly, yours is an enlightened civilization. Sister Lilani, this is a coup. Our Council will be champing to make alliance with such a nation, and here you have their envoy at your side already. How do you do it?”

“Like the Lady Doris herself,” said Lilani, “I am less concerned with prestige than with character, and I too try to be a student of it. I’ll let the Council worry about alliances. I only hope to call her a friend,” the young lady concluded, resting her hand on Doris’s hand and giving Doris her very warmest smile.

A little heavy, thought Josheb. A little thick. But then again, perhaps Lilani had properly read Doris’s innate innocence, her basic naivete.

“I am grateful,” said Doris, and she looked genuinely grateful.

Another point to the master, then, conceded Josheb. Oh, lady, how innocent you are indeed. Josheb felt something almost like pity in him, but a good, wholesome pity. Doris’s good heart was a treasure to be defended against creatures like Lilani.

“And you?” asked Lilani. Josheb glanced at her again and realized she was talking to him.

“And I what, my lady?”

“Family, sir. Have you a family left behind? A fair damsel of your own? A wild beauty of the North, waiting your return?”

“In truth, no,” said Josheb. “I have never settled long enough to make a home for myself.”

“Hmm,” said Lilani, and then, after a moment, “Isn’t that a pity.”

She was too poised, too expert, to make the obvious quips. They would have been beneath her.

“To family,” said Rorish, breaking the moment’s held breath as he lifted his glass again. “Our loving brothers and sisters behind us, and happy unions ahead.”

“Quite so,” said the Commandant, meeting the salute. “To you, my dear,” he said to young Mori. “If our family is half so welcoming and joyous as this family of yours here, I shall call my small contribution the greatest accomplishment of my lifetime.”

“Well said, sir,” responded Lilani.

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” said Doris. “And, I suppose, on that note, I should say congratulations to you as well on the child, Miss Mori. How far along are you?”

Josheb watched every expression around him go instantly blank, even as his own mind went through a sudden, jarring recalibration of the sort which, among less polite company, might have been accompanied by spitting out a mouthful of his drink. He had not even noticed. But of course he had not. This was the sort of thing women noticed about women, and men did not notice until months later.

For a laden moment—one might even have called it a pregnant moment—no one spoke. Then Lilani looked over at Doris and said, “What do you mean?”

Doris’s brow furrowed, and her cheeks reddened. “I’m sorry. I seem to have crossed a fence of custom I did not understand. I observed that Mori is pregnant. Do you not celebrate this in your culture?”

There was another beat of silence, and then Mori said, almost as if by rote, “I am only doing my duty. To society. It’s nothing.”

“I see…” said Doris, in such a way as to indicate that she did not see at all. Josheb found himself likewise at a loss, but everyone had forgotten about him again.

“Oh, dear,” said Lilani suddenly, once again putting her hand on Doris’s. “Think nothing of it. Come! I will not have my precious guest and new friend made uncomfortable on her first night. Sir Josheb, won’t you regale us with a story of your adventures? And we shall compare your exploits to the Commandant’s and see who is the braver and more formidable.”

“Excuse me,” said Rorish. “What about me?”

“No cares about the squire, friend. Only the knights.”

Mori giggled, and so announced that the spell was broken.

“I presume you were with a company in Eledring?” said the Commandant. “Did you happen to see action in their Southern Crane rebellion?”

“I did, Master.”

“A brutal slog, that was. I was attached as an advisor to the Eledrin Second Legion at the time. On which side did you fight?”

“Against you, Master, for the last third of it, or so. Dauntless Swords, Blue Company.”

“Blue! Yes, I remember you fellows! And how. Lady Doris, your swordsman is more formidable than you may have guessed, if he was any man amongst that lot. We were not so challenged in our maneuvers against the rebels proper, but every day we would get word that one of our elements had run up against these ‘blues’ and hard. Like biting down on a bit of shot in your meat. You could break a tooth before you knew it, and they broke a few of Eledring’s. How did that go, in the end?”

“They ran out of money, Master,” said Josheb with a grin.

The Commandant’s eyebrows went up, and then he too smiled and slapped the table (albeit gently). “Well, there you go! Saved by the mercenary spirit. If the rebels had had deeper pockets, I might not be sitting here today!”

“Oh, sir! How can you joke about such a thing?” demanded Lilani, all feminine delicacy.

“Gallows humor, my dear,” replied the Commandant. “Necessary among fighting men.”

And so the dinner went on, and the banter with it, and they had a few stories out of Josheb before dessert was finished, and a few out of the Commandant and even his young Captain as well. And as the wine flowed, even Lilani laughed a little more and joked a little more, though always under the reins of her sly and clever mind. Several glasses in, she was still flawless. Meanwhile, the only tongue that never really loosened was Doris’s. She remained mostly quiet and reserved for the rest of the meal. Her reticence was not, however, that of mortification. As he watched her, Josheb realized that, while she might have been a little embarrassed at her apparent earlier misstep, the greater part of her following silence was concentration. She had stepped back from participation and was now observing, with intense scrutiny, in a way even he and Lilani (the two most expert political tacticians at the table) did not. Doris watched not as a player looking for an angle, but as a sage might watch the interplay of chemicals in a glass jar, or a naturalist the interactions of a new insect species. Her embarrassment had alerted her to something at work in this foreign culture which she did not understand, a new discovery waiting to be made, and for the rest of the evening Josheb could see her making mental notes. Lilani, in her place, would return home with a deal, an alliance, a profitable trade arrangement. Doris would probably return home, when all of this was over, and write a book.