After the excruciating monotony of the discussion with Yorrin, Thomanji’yheri felt near joy in the half-hour patrol from their encampment to the field in which the Sillicaosi tent stood in the heightening sun. Trillium and her scouts ranged ahead of Thomanji’yheri and his guards, who were led by K?yvf. By the time Thomanji’yheri was sizing up the tent from the cover of the woods that circled the field, the scouts had reported finding no Sillicaosi beyond those prominently occupying the field.

  “Now, I am the one who does not like this,” Yorrin said from where he stood behind a sapling. “The Sillicaosi are not known to parley, even when in a losing position. Here, only miles from the safety of their borders, what have they to lose? What have they to gain?”

  “I know not,” Thomanji’yheri said, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm. “Which is why I’m going to ask them.”

  Trillium approached.

  “How many all told?” Thomanji’yheri said.

  “The scouts who remained to observe in my absence have seen only the dozen guards you see around the tent. One will occasionally enter for a time, but if there is anyone else in the tent, they have not emerged.”

  Thomanji’yheri turned to K?yvf. “How many do we need to handle those dozen?”

  K?yvf responded without needing to again look over the Sillicaosi guards. “Me. Six of my guards. And Yorrin.”

  “Yorrin?” Thomanji’yheri said, confused because the gnome advisor had never previously factored into K?yvf’s tactical planning.

  “Thank you, K?yvf,” Yorrin said, his chest puffed out.

  “Good distraction,” K?yvf said and shrugged. “Make them uncomfortable. While spending time looking around their feet, I end them.”

  Yorrin deflated.

  “Very well,” Thomanji’yheri said. “Let us meet these uninvited visitors to our land.”

  K?yvf turned and made quick hand gestures to her troops, six of whom moved to flank Thomanji’yheri as he walked into the field, the other dozen troops spreading out to take support positions among the trees.

  K?yvf and Yorrin followed the procession toward the tent.

  The Sillicaosi soldiers to either side of the entrance to the tent did not change their bearing as Thomanji’yheri and his entourage approached. The soldiers wore long, dark-brown cloaks made of a light material that would allow great mobility but looked better suited for protecting one from a hot sun than from a weapon’s strike. The cloaks were barely parted down the front, so what was worn beneath could not be seen, though Thomanji’yheri thought that any armor beneath could not be very substantial, given how closely the cloaks fitted the wearers. The Sillicaosi themselves could have been any of his own soldiers, and Thomanji’yheri saw in their features characteristics of the many peoples of the fallen empire. His mind briefly touched on the stories Reeve had told about the peoples of this world—that, regardless of exterior appearance, most of them were fundamentally similar, guided by basic objectives anyone would understand, and that it was only Thomanji’yheri, the twins, Leaf, and possibly a handful of others who carried within them something different. Reeve’s stories had never sat well with him, particularly once he found himself responsible for the lives of thousands. He glanced over the faces of the Sillicaosi he was nearing and wondered if they and many of their brethren—and many of his own soldiers—would spend their last days in this unremarkable corner of Thhia before being buried in unmarked graves near the once-inviolate border of the realms.

  Thomanji’yheri stopped a dozen yards short of the waiting group, from which the standard-bearer stepped, still holding the white flag.

  “Thomanji’yheri of the Forge,” the man said. He was nearly as tall as K?yvf. “Your acceptance of our invitation is most appreciated. The Ambassador would speak with you in private.” He turned and motioned to the tent. Two others in the honor guard drew back the flaps.

  Although K?yvf and the others could see only the edge of a plush carpet receding into cool darkness, Thomanji’yheri could see that farther in there was a single individual, whose body heat shone brightly within the cool of the tent.

  “Wait here,” Thomanji’yheri said to K?yvf and then strode into the tent. The flaps closed behind him.

  “Welcome,” the Ambassador said from the middle of the tent, her voice high and melodious, at the same time gesturing to a deep and plushly cushioned chair across a low table on which sat bowls of dates and two amply-filled chalices.

  Thomanji’yheri gave the rest of the interior a quick but critical glance and found it entirely unfurnished. He crossed to the proffered chair and sat heavily, taking enjoyment in the lack of grace he always brought to these types of formal occasions his military commission sometimes required. He could see little of his host, as she wore a cloak similar to those of the soldiers without but also a headdress that covered much of her head and blurred whatever he might have read in the heat profile of her face.

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  “I did not expect to be invited to break bread,” Thomanji’yheri said. “I assume it be worth both our time, if you’ve been sitting here since the early hours waiting for me to join you.”

  “Indeed,” the Ambassador said. “And I am pleased that I need wait no more.” She leaned forward to take a date with one hand and chalice with the other. “But the Sillicaosi are not partial to grains, so I fear we must do without bread.”

  Thomanji’yheri noted the apparent distance the Ambassador placed between herself and the Sillicaosi, but he kept his expression as impenetrable as the Ambassador’s veil. “No bread to be found in this part of Thhia, but ye can’t turn around without falling over a hippo, it seems.”

  The Ambassador waived a dismissive hand. “They are a nuisance, I will give you that. And a stinking one. But necessary means. And you need not worry. They will be gone from this wretched corner of your fair Thhia ere the morn.”

  It was harder this time to check his surprise, but Thomanji’yheri said only, “Aye? Seems a strange business to needle us til we come all the way here, invite me to break bread or dates or what have you, and then just waddle off again on yer river mules. I don’t have much interest in such games, and you don’t seem like the type for it either.”

  The veiled woman relaxed into the cushion of her chair. “You may be perceptive, Thomanji’yheri off the Forge, but I most certainly like games. Our lives are but a game, wouldn’t you agree?” She sipped from the chalice and stared at Thomanji’yheri.

  Thomanji’yheri stared back. He was not intimidated by this Ambassador, confident as he was that he and K?yvf would easily handle the honor guard if a fight they wanted, but he couldn’t yet divine the root of Ambassador’s arm’s-length stance toward the Sillicaosi and apparent disinterest in the fact that, from where they sat, two large armed forces were amassed little farther than the flights of longbow-loosed arrows.

  “Tell me,” the woman said, “what has Reavyr said to you?”

  “Reavyr?” Thomanji’yheri said, the question driven out by the surprise of his long-ago companion’s sudden mention.

  “Oh, you can save your astonishment, aged dwarf. I’m sure you know of whom I speak.”

  Many in the realms knew of Reeve, or at last Reavyr, because stories in which she played no small role had traveled and been embellished along the way, as stories will. So, Thomanji’yheri shrugged. “What Reavyr may have said to me once is of little relevance to the matter of your trespass in Thhia. I’d rather ye mind the present and tell me what yer doing here and whether you’ll be leaving before my troops escort you across the border at spearpoint.”

  The woman’s eyes widened and she sat forward and laughed, and the sound, sharp and high, brought Thomanji’yheri no joy.

  “You haven’t seen her!”

  Though he could not see her face, he could hear the smile that shaped the tone of her words.

  “Such a fool I was to not consider that!” She said. “I assumed my first notice of her presence was not also the moment of her reentry, but if you have been gone from Deilmarkt the duration of your march, perhaps I was alerted soon after she arrived.” The woman clapped her hands in delight.

  Thomanji’yheri fought a scowl. He knew not what she was on about, but if she knew something of Reeve that he did not, it would not likely be good.

  Thomanji’yheri placed both palms on the arms of the chair and shifted his weight forward, ready to call an end to the pointless talk.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the woman said, raising one hand. “Where are my manners and my mind.”

  Her words might have been meant to placate, but Thomanji’yheri could still hear the unrepentant smile in her words.

  “I shan’t bore you with my ramblings any further. I’m sure you find them nonsensical, and they are not why we are here, are they? Please, find comfort a moment yet in your chair, yes? If anything I have said has been upsetting, put it from your mind, it is actually for the best, as it will make our business here all the easier.”

  Thomanji’yheri leaned back slightly, no longer starting to rise, but did not recline. “And that business is what, exactly?”

  Something tickled his neck, and he reflexively moved to brush it away but instead found himself falling back into the chair, his body ignoring his intent.

  The Ambassador watched him until his slump had come to a complete rest and he remained there for several seconds. “Drag? venom,” she said. “I believe you have some prior experience with it, yes?” She continued to sit relaxed in her own chair. “Well, not you personally, but a member of your party. Silver Leaf, was it not? As you know then, one can recover fully from its paralytic effects, given the right attention, but until such attention, the recipient is, well, less than themselves.”

  Someone walked from behind Thomanji’yheri and stood facing the table between him and the Ambassador.

  “Dear,” the Ambassador said, “it is difficult to be an attentive guest when under the influence of the drag?, is it not?” She leaned forward, laid a cold hand on Thomanji’yheri’s cheek, and turned his head to face the person standing between them.

  Thomanji’yheri’s unblinking eyes stared into themselves. It was him. Or a doppelg?nger. The dwarf before him rested its hand on the head of the hammer in its belt and stared vacantly across the table.

  “You have your orders,” the Ambassador said.

  The doppelg?nger nodded.

  “Then execute them,” she said.

  The doppelg?nger nodded again, turned, and walked to the tent’s opening, where it brushed aside one flap, strode out into the brilliant light, and let fall the flap to separate the world without from the dark, cool cell in which Thomanji’yheri could not even move.

  “Listen,” the Ambassador said quietly, delight in her voice.

  Unable to choose any other action, Thomanji’yheri listened. After a few seconds, he heard his own voice from outside the tent.

  “Come, we are finished here. The Sillicaosi will leave our lands. The Ambassador has delivered the message that necessitated this meeting. We are needed in Deilmarkt.”

  Yorrin’s high response easily penetrated the fabric of the tent. “You marched a sizable portion of our army halfway across Thhia so that you could have a five-minute tête-à-tête before marching it halfway back across Thhia?”

  “Our destination is not in Thhia,” Thomanji’yheri’s voice answered. “We will now find Deilmarkt in Vyrdenh.”

  Quiet footsteps obscured Yorrin’s next remarks and signaled the departure of Thomanji’yheri party while he sat, mind reeling, body frozen.

  The woman’s gentle, cold hand turned Thomanji’yheri face so that he looked upon her once again.

  “Vyrdenh!” She said. “Of all places. Those two self-obsessed little twits and their grandiose casts.” She let her fingers slip from his bearded chin and leaned back. “I hope your troops are well supplied, for a long trek awaits them.”

  Apparently no longer inclined to carry on the one-sided conversation, she leaned back, grasped the loose end of her headdress, and deftly unwrapped it, her hand circling her head to reveal a face Thomanji’yheri knew as well as any in the realms.