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held a god turned myth.
    â€œAnd the old, old days?” Sandry asked.
    Chalker smiled in a way that older people often did when they remembered times long past. “This place was alive then,” Chalker said. “Big bonfires to Yangin-Atep, and they’d play at a Burning, but about half the time it was a setup, a block of houses used as junkyards for a year or two. Made good stories for the tellers! Matter of fact, that’s what brought me here, the tellers talking about the Burnings. Sounded like fun. Only I couldn’t get in on any of that—only Lordkin allowed. So I joined up with the Lordsmen.”
    And you’ve been one ever since, Sandry thought. “Did you like that?”
    â€œNot at first,” Chalker said cheerfully.
    â€œSit down; have some tea.” Sandry said.
    â€œThank you, Lord, but I think not.” He grinned faintly. “Wouldn’t do for me to get too friendly. Way it is, them Lordkin see somebody like me takes orders from you, it makes it easier for them to work for you. With you,” Chalker corrected himself. “No, I didn’t like it at first, but the job grows on you. Did on me, anyway. I was Samorty’s batman his last year as a Younglord, and I liked him. Mostly I worked with good officers. Like your father. He didn’t turn out in armor every time it was his watch like Samorty did, and he had a temper, he did, but he was a good man, worried about his men. If he made a mistake when he was mad at you, he’d admit it later, and make amends. I’d have followed him anywhere.” Chalker filled Sandry’s cup with fresh tea. It smelled of sage, with only a tiny hint of hemp. “And you stop worrying about that Lord Regapisk. Nothing you could do, and he didn’t get nothing he didn’t deserve.”
    Sandry guessed that both those statements were probably true, but it bothered him anyway. The Council meeting hadn’t seemed like a trial, not at first. Just hours of “Reggy stories,” as Sandry thought of them. Everybody seemed to have one…
    â€œFish have parasites, see,” the Harbormaster said. Inviting him to testify was Reggy’s doom, right there. “We work a spell to persuade them to crawl out of the fish, and then we wait a few hours…but Younglord Regapisk, he came to get his fish, and he was in a hurry. He just told his men to pile them in his cart, and he went. Lord Warrand, you remember what happened? But it could have been worse.”
    â€œAll I know is my cook was screaming. She made me go down to the harbor myself and find you. The cart was crawling with what came out of those fish. See what you mean, though. If Reggy’d got there before the spells were spoke, those worms would have been still in the fish. What would they have done to us?”
    Reggy stories. Sandry didn’t tell the one about him and Reggy and the mirror, he didn’t dare, but that was as funny as any he heard. Reggy and the mer people. Then suddenly this wasn’t an informal meeting at all but a Congregation of Lords Witness to Decide in the Matter of Certain Complaints Lodged against Lord Regapisk, and they’d come down hard. Harder than Reggy deserved? It cost Sandry a night’s sleep, and cost Regapisk much more, but there was no help for it. A Lord had obligations.
    â€œNothing he didn’t deserve,” Chalker repeated. “Here, have some more tea.”
    Â 
    â€œFear! Fear and foes!”
    The shout rang out across the square. “Fear and foes! Alarm!” There was a clatter of hooves. Sandry’s tea splashed over his wrist.
    The Lordkin guard who protected the inn looked up, startled. The kinless owners rushed to gather up anything valuable and get it inside.
    â€œFear and foes! Alarm!” A chariot raced into Peacegiven Square.
    â€œFrom the north road, Lord Sandry,” Chalker said. “That’s Younglord Maydreo.”
    â€œRight.”