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three knelt to her, Chies just a fraction of a second behind the others. Correct protocol would have been for him to bow only, then present the newcomer.
    Dicerno waited an instant for him before saying, “My lady … if I may have the honor … Brother Marno. Brother Marno is a renowned and skillful devotee of holy Nula.”
    Marno was a common name, but Oliva wished they had chosen another. One glance at Chies warned her that his mood had changed yet again. He was twitching, excited, unable to keep his eyes off the disguised Werist. He knew! She had no idea how he knew, but she was quite certain he did.
    Life had become a nightmare inside a nightmare.
    “Rise, please, all of you. You are very welcome to our house, Brother Marno.”
    “My lady, I thank the gods for giving me the opportunity and honor of attending lord Piero.” The big man spoke in a harsh growl, very unlike Stralg’s sonorous carillons, but his face was completely unlike her expectations of what a notorious rebel should look like—handsome, sensitive, aristocratic, with a strong resemblance to Duilio Cavotti, his long-dead father.
    “You will be able to assuage my husband’s distress?”
    “Not I, my lady. The goddess.”
    “Of course.”
    He should have said my goddess.
    “You are new to our fair city, brother?” Chies making small talk had to mark the dawn of an epoch.
    Cavotti must be aware of his Celebrian accent, because he evaded the trap. “I was born here, but I have been away for some years.”
    “Since before I was born, yes?”
    The fake Nulist waited a beat before saying, “ Much longer than that, lord Chies.”
    Oliva chuckled, which was perhaps a mistake, but probably nothing would have stopped Chies now.
    “Did you move that shutter, brother? It takes four men to put them up.”
    “Master Dicerno did it. As he will have told you, the gods give strength to the pure in heart.”
    Chies let out a surprised snigger.
    “I have certainly told him that diffidence is a sign of good breeding,” Dicerno countered.
    The boy’s eyes narrowed. “I saw my father just now and he’s in such terrible pain that I feel very upset. Will you give me some comfort, Nulist? Just a touch?” He extended a skinny arm.
    Cavotti closed a huge hand around it. “Better, lad, I will show you how to work off your own worries.” He moved over to the doorway and out onto the terrace.
    Chies perforce went with him, struggling, kicking, squealing. “Stop! You’re hurting! Let me go!”
    “You don’t need holy Nula,” the giant growled. “See there? An agile youngster like you can easily scramble over that balustrade and jump down to the river wall. Run twice around the city as fast as you can, and you will find that all your cares have given way to a glow of healthy well-being.”
    Released, Chies sprang away, rubbing the white marks on his arm and spitting anger like a cat. “I’ll find better shoes.” Without even a bow to his mother, he sprinted across the chamber and disappeared the way he had come.
    The Werist came back in, chuckling. “Sorry, my lady, but I enjoyed that. I am a disgrace to Master Dicerno’s training.” He bowed again. “Marno Cavotti, at your service.”
    “You dare manhandle my son?”
    His eyes blazed. “You are lucky I didn’t break his neck, lady. At his age I was a prisoner at Boluzzi in compulsory Werist training. The only way to fail the course there was to die there. If you ran away you were run down—you know warbeasts can track like hounds? Ripped to pieces. Boys of thirteen, fourteen. They’d bring the scraps back to show us. No, my complaint against Stralg is even heavier than yours, my lady, and your precious bastard is lucky he’s still got his balls on right now.”
    The preceptor moaned and was ignored.
    “Boor!” Oliva had found a target for the fury she had been building all night. “It is you who may be lacking body parts very shortly. Chies has undoubtedly gone to ask the senior Mercy if she