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face. I only meant to disarm him.” She began to pull on her uniform, and I reluctantly began to dress. “Mureas will make Kasee pay some price.”
    “She won’t make Torrman the subcommander?”
    “Kasee’s indebted, but she won’t cut her own throat, not even if Mureas threatened to quit as Finance Minister. Besides, Mureas won’t. She likes the power and position, but she’ll make it hard, politely, on Kasee.”
    “I don’t like her.”
    “No one does, but she’s good with the coins, and she knows what works with them.”
    Like who to tax and how much, I had gathered. I stepped up behind Krystal and put my arms around her, kissing her neck, and holding her in a most familiar manner. She leaned back for a moment, then took a deep breath. I gave her a last light kiss on the neck and let go.
    “I need to find my boots.” Krystal stood up and looked toward the other room.
    “You left them in the conference room.”
    “You left yours there, too,” she pointed out.
    What could I say? I didn’t, but she didn’t open the outer door until we were both presentable. Herreld remained as impassive as ever as we went down the corridor and down the stairs, hand in hand.
    At the bottom, Krystal let go of my hand. “Tomorrow night…I hope.”
    So did I.
    I couldn’t find Tamra, but I left her a note, then reclaimed Gairloch and headed back to the house and shop.

IV
West of Arastia, Hydlen [Candar]
    The man in the muddy leathers, wearing a hand-and-a-half sword across his shoulders, and carrying a coil of rope in his left hand, rides up to the dirt-spattered white tent in the middle of the camp. In front of the tent is a red banner with a crown emblazoned across the middle.
    “Gerlis! Gerlis!”
    The white wizard stands up from behind the portable table. “Yes, ser?”
    “What were you thinking?” The big man marches into the tent, his boots spraying mud across the carpet.
    “About what?” Gerlis knots his eyebrows, looking down at the mud the other has brought in.
    Berfir throws the scroll on the table, right across the crockery, ignoring the grease it picks up from the uneaten mutton. “That! Here I am, trying to build up enough forces in the north to keep Colaris from invading us, and here you are, using the rockets on the Kyphrans and trying to start another war I don’t need. The rockets cost dearly enough…”
    “The hermit charged you very little at all, I recall.”
    “Getting the information was the easy part. The coins for the smiths and the chemists were what cost.”
    “They don’t work as well as chaos fire.”
    “But I don’t need a wizard for them. That was why you were here. The idea was for you to keep that hothead Cennon out of trouble, not help him get into it. You were just supposed to hold the spring, not have Cennon invade Kyphros. I thought that all of the rockets were coming north. That’s where I need them. That bastard Colaris could put an army on the Hydolar or Renklaar roads anytime. He’s raising levies, and he’s buying more mercenaries.”
    “You already have a great many of the rockets, and it does take some time to transport them.” Gerlis bowed, his cleanshaven face thin under the dark hair carefully combed to affect a widow’s peak. “Colaris’s troops are camped barely beyond Freetown, in any case.”
    “Stop picking nits with me! You were supposed to restrain Cennon, not encourage him. You were supposed to send the rockets to Hydlen.” Berfir draws the heavy sword, and the worked steel tip centers less than a span from Gerlis’s trim stomach. “If you won’t help me, what use are you?”
    “You did retain me for my judgment, Your Grace. After Cennon’s decision, I thought some of the rockets should remain here. I did have half of those remaining dispatched.” Gerlis steps back and bows. “You may have passed them on your way here.”
    “Stop changing the subject.” Berfir sighs and lowers the big sword.
    “Cennon seemed to think the attack a