They were disporting in a unique and confusing way. I will not go into details. I am not a purveyor of those little books that are sold by the more disreputable merchants in back alleys and evil taverns. It was surprising to me that they both seemed to be taking so much pleasure from it. I was glad that Maetahtild was behind me, and that my body shielded her from the sight.

  “Captain!” I snapped, and there was a confused untangling, brown limbs flung about wildly and glinting with the sheen of sweat. Then Jahldorani was standing naked beside the bed and the girl was covering herself up. The human body holds no titillation for me. You cannot be a member of the guard without seeing your comrades naked, and with great frequency. Indeed, most guards find a covered body more alluring. We’re unimaginative people, as a rule, but sex has a transformative power, and even the dullest can become a poet when their cheeks are flushed with desire. I have observed it many times, although, as I have noted, I have never felt such poetry myself. Perhaps the question of why I don’t feel it makes me a keener observer than I might be otherwise.

  In the moment, however, I couldn’t pause for speculation. “Cover yourself,” I told Jahldorani in my most hectoring voice, “there is a lady here.”

  “A lady?” he asked in confusion. And then he saw her, a shape in the shadows of the stairs behind me.

  His embarrassment was acute and satisfying. He looked around wildly for his robes. He could not shrug them over his head without exposing his nakedness further, but he was quickly becoming flaccid, and therefore less offensive. The girl on the bed was softly crying.

  When Maetahtild came into the room she went directly to this dusky-eyed child and said, “Hush now, Uesayna. I did not mean to make you cry.”

  The girl looked up at her, and I watched her expression change from mortification to spite. “Why are you here?”

  “Your mother is very worried about you. And you will not talk to her.”

  “And she thinks I’ll talk to you?”

  “That was her hope.”

  “Well, I won’t talk to you. You shouldn’t have come.”

  “Yes,” Maetahtild sighed. “But I promised her that I would try. Young love can be so confusing.”

  “I’m not confused.”

  “I don’t suppose you are in this moment. But I wanted to let you know that you have a place in my house, when you do become confused.”

  Jahldorani was looking back and forth between them, and sparing me an occasional anguished glance. “Uesayna belongs here,” he said, but there wasn’t much force behind it. He was testing to see if I would censure him, looking for disapproval in my eye.

  I sighed. “Captain,” I said, “you are neglecting your duties. The plaza is full of people who have come for the corvee. You are leaving your lieutenants to keep watch alone.”

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  “They’re good lieutenants,” he said, knowing that it was a poor excuse.

  “Yes, and they deserve a good captain. But I have come to tell you that the king and Princess Iyedraeka will be coming to the east gate in the noon hour. They will be leaving the city to visit the shrine.”

  The color fled from his face. “The king…” he whispered.

  “Don’t make too much of it,” I told him. “Get your robes on, find your sword and your shield, and go down into the plaza. You should ask the clerks to stop registering people, and send the crowd around to the north gate. They will be unhappy. Perhaps you can round up some merchants, and send them to offer refreshments outside of the city walls. Don’t use a heavy hand. Act as if you are inviting the people to a celebration. A kind of moveable feast, as it were. But move them to the north gate.”

  “Captain Baepohrik will hate me for it,” Jahldorani said miserably.

  “Then send them to the River Gate. Let them become Captain Gaetisma’s problem.”

  His eyes brightened at that. He was a good lad. Good enough to hate the corrupt captain of Viepahrik District. But I felt that the suggestion had been a mistake. I cast a quick glance at Maetahtild, and she caught it.

  “Don’t be foolish, Captain,” she said, in response to my expression. “I cannot pretend that Viepahrik District doesn’t exist. I have even walked by my husband’s house from time to time.”

  I could imagine her walking past the site of her former imprisonment. I could imagine her holding her head high, and singing all the time. I was somewhat in awe of her dignity.

  But the girl on the bed wasn’t. “Leave us alone,” she said to Maetahtild. “This is none of your business.”

  “That is true,” said the Lady of the House of Song, “but take these letters at any rate. Your mother has been dictating them to me every night. They are full of her sorrow.”

  “And you enjoy that, don’t you? You love hearing about the sorrows of others.”

  Maetahtild recoiled as if she had been slapped. The wind seemed to have been knocked out of her. The girl’s eyes widened, like a child who doesn’t know that a puppy will yelp when you pull its tail. “No,” Maetahtild said. “I would rather that there was no suffering in the world.”

  “And yet you’re causing me suffering!” the girl cried. She was a petulant little thing, and the sheets had fallen down, revealing her breasts.

  Maetahtild regained her crispness. She laid the letters on the bed. “Choose to read them or not,” she said. Then she turned to the door.

  I turned to follow her, but Jahldorani detained me. “Captain Haendil…” he said tentatively.

  I turned back to him. “Son,” I said, “I will say nothing. Neither king nor seneschal needs to know.” This is an old saying within the guard. The code by which we protect our own.

  His shoulders eased. I had told him that he still belonged. But I gave him a stern look. “I have bought you a couple of hours,” I told him. Meaning, *I have saved you. Saved you and your position. Saved you from the king’s ire. Perhaps even saved your life.*

  He began strapping on his sword. The girl said, “Jahli…” but he ignored her. I wondered if she were about to cause a fuss. But she looked at me and I looked at her, and she had the good sense to pull the sheets back up to cover her nakedness. Her eyes dropped. A thin hand with bitten nails reached out to pick up her mother’s letters.

  When I returned to the plaza, Maetahtild was gone. But I could sense the route she had taken out of the square. Heads were still turned in that direction, as if she had left the scent of sweet incense in her wake.