Page 45 of Given to the Black King

Ghenn looks at me properly now. “A week. Less if they smell weakness.”

Torgan draws his claws back into his fingertips. His hand finds the mark on my inner thigh through the layers of my skirt, one brief pressure where no one can see.

Then he walks away with Ghenn to prepare for war.

I lock the map room again and sit on the edge of the ruined table until my legs hold.

At first light, I carry the torn dress to the wash house. Sera takes one look at the hooks, one look at the mark above my stocking, and waits.

“Seedward,” I say. “Every morning until I tell you otherwise.”

She gives me a long, practical look. “Then do not miss a cup.”

TORGAN

Ghenn drops Osk’s pay ledger on the war table before breakfast.

“Three hired companies confirmed,” he says. “Blue Gulls, Red Pikes, and Split Sun. There may be more. Osk is paying by the week.”

I open the ledger.

The writing is a copy. The silver amounts are not.

“Too much money for Osk,” I say.

“Much too much.”

Vess sits on the window ledge with one boot against the stone. No one invited her. “The first payment came through a Serathi counting house.”

Callas is not in the room. I can hear him one floor below, arguing with Perr about wax seals.

“Which house?”

“Still finding the counting house.” Vess tosses a narrow strip of paper onto the map. “The courier drew a knife during capture. He lost two fingers before my people stopped him. He remembers the broker. I expect the rest will return when he understands the alternative.”

“He is under crown law now,” I say. “No more pieces removed. Question him with a clerk present.”

Vess looks wounded. “You make intelligence work dull.”

“I make testimony usable.”

Ghenn looks at me. “Osk wants you angry.”

“He has succeeded.”

“He wants you riding east before the frost.”

“That part has failed.”

I move three black counters to the pass mouth. Osk can gather men. He cannot feed them through winter without help from the south.

The door opens.

Iona walks in carrying revised grain schedules. The fourth formal session is due after breakfast; she has arrived early with the numbers she intends to make me accept.

Every thought in my head changes direction.

Her hair is pinned up. Her dress covers the mark on her shoulder. No one else can see the bruise on her inner thigh.