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rather good idea, ser. In your interests, you know.”
    “And you let him? You need a healer!” The sword flips back up, almost to Gerlis’s chin. “You know as well as I do that those Kyphrans were only scouting. Scouts aren’t invaders, and they were on their side of the border. The autarch isn’t interested in conquest. She wasn’t even trying to get the spring back yet. You know it, and I know it. The longer things dragged out the better. So why did you tell Cennon to attack them?”
    “It wasn’t quite that way, ser. Cennon saw them as a threat.”
    “Why didn’t you stop him?”
    “A wizard overruling a field commander?” asks Gerlis reasonably. “Especially the eldest son of—”
    “Idiots!” Berfir sighs deeply. “Am I surrounded by idiots? How can I hold Hydlen together when I am indebted to idiots like that? I didn’t even want to be Duke—not that much, anyway, but Sterna would have given Colaris all the fields on the north side of the Ohyde River, almost the whole Ohyde Valley, and then where would we have been? With Colaris at our front door, and with the best land…and now, if I don’t fight, all the farmers will claim that because I’m a Yeannotan, I betrayed them. And you give me a fight I don’t want and don’t need.”
    “Duke Sterna, the angels bless him, only wanted peace.”
    “You don’t get peace by giving things away, not to bastards like Colaris. And calling on the angels certainly doesn’t become you, Gerlis.” Berfir laughs harshly and resheathes the sword.
    “Perhaps you could use another enemy,” suggests the white wizard.
    “Another enemy? I need another enemy? Everyone thinks I’m an upstart. The Temple priests say I’m in league with the demons of light because you’re my wizard, and I need to get into a war with Kyphros? When I’m already trying to avoid one with Freetown? One that will break out in open war in eight days, if not sooner.”
    “Well…” mused Gerlis. “If Kyphros attacks you, and you drive off the autarch, everyone will forget your origin. They might also forgive you for the casualties that will mount in the conflict with Colaris.”
    “But the autarch won’t attack.”
    “She already did, according to Cennon. You might as well use it as best you can. For several purposes.”
    Berfir pauses and scratches his unruly salt-and-pepper beard. “I see what you mean…I think. But what do I do now? I can’t back down to the autarch now. That would give Colaris even greater reason to attack. And if I don’t back down to her, I’ll have to shift troops here. That would encourage Colaris to quick-march those troops down the road to Hydolar within an eight-day. Demons! What a mess! Why do I owe so much to Cennon’s clan?”
    “Well…Cennon has proved his worth, and he and his troops have earned the right to meet the enemy first.”
    “I presume that means the real attackers? What if the autarch merely ignores the attack, or sends a more secretive group of scouts?” Berfir looks toward the closed flap of the tent as the fall breeze shakes the white cloth.
    “She probably will. But Cennon and his troops will fight valiantly for Hydlen in any case, and after a sufficiently bloody stand-off, you and the autarch will reach a mutually beneficial agreement, which you will tout as a display of your heroic leadership…and that will free you to fight off the real invader.”
    “And how does that work when we still will have the autarch’s brimstone spring.”
    “We’ll give back the land.”
    Berfir reaches for the sword, then stops and lowers his arm. “What? The whole point—”
    “I’ve just about traced the underground springs, and I can shift them so that they come up farther downstream on your side of the border.”
    “Then why did we take the spring, for light’s sake?”
    “Because I couldn’t figure it out unless we held it.” Gerlis lowers his voice. “So what we need to do is to make Cennon a hero—one who died