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chance, what questions he might need to ask.
        Also, he didn't want to create more consternation in the Great House. That would not help him, Hagen, or Lord Ghrant. No ... it might better be handled quietly. That was also something else he had learned from experience. Bitterly.
    Ill
    JNJiarl studied his image in the mirror of the bedchamber. His dark brown hair was cut tastefully short, his beard neatly trimmed. The silvery gray shirt and black waistcoat, and even the black trousers-bestowed by Lord Ghrant in Dykaru-were far finer than any raiment he had ever worn.
     
       Was Guillam so worried about Kharl that he had attempted two assassination attempts in one morning? Or was Kharl so much of a threat that more than one person wanted him dead? Was truth-or disclosure-that deadly?
        He laughed. Egen had certainly not wished certain things to become known and had killed Charee and Tyrbel to quell that information, as well as hounded Kharl out of Brysta. The Lord Justicer Reynol had seen what Egen wanted and had made sure that Charee could not reveal anything before she had been hanged.
    Why would people be any different in Austra and Valmurl?
        He took a deep breath, thinking once more about the past. He shook his head. At the moment, he could do nothing about it. He never could do anything for Charee, but he had hopes for Warrl, and Jeka ... if he could ever get back to Brysta. As for Arthal. .. what would be would be.
       As he waited, Kharl leafed through The Basis of Order, seeking a passage that might shed some light on the issues of truth and justice, even as he doubted that Lord Ghrant truly wanted justice or truth from Guillam.
        ... there is order, and there is chaos, and those who follow each will declare that either order is truth or chaos is truth. A truth that holds for all does not exist, not in the world, nor in the stars, nor on the surface of the land, nor beneath the waves of the ocean. That which is exists, but those who search for truth that applies to all seek what never was and never will be. That is because truth is an image of what is, and that image is painted in the colors of the seeker's beliefs. Each seeks a different truth, and each claims that his is the only truth. In that the seeker is surely correct...
    No such thing as truth?
    Kharl frowned, then nodded slowly.
         As midday came and passed, Kharl read, and thought, and considered. He spent close to a glass just thinking about how to word questions for the chief factor. He'd been a cooper, not a justicer or a minstrel.
    Thrap!
        "Lord Kharl?" The voice was that of Charsal. "I'm to take you to see the lord-chancellor, ser."
      Kharl used his order-senses to make sure the undercaptain was alone, hen he picked up the three bent quarrels and unlocked the door to his
      
    chamber, stepping out into the stone-walled corridor and relocking the door.
    Charsal glanced at the bent metal quarrels.
    "I thought the lord-chancellor should see these."
    "Those are standard quarrels, ser. Why-"
    "That is why he should see them. We should go."        '
    "Yes, ser." Charsal's voice expressed puzzlement.
        The two walked silently to the central staircase, then down to the main level. There were more bodies-and more guards-in the large hall at the base of the staircase.
        When Kharl entered Hagen's modest space, the lord-chancellor was seated behind the small table desk. He looked up from the papers before him, but did not rise, gesturing to the chairs across the table desk from him.
        Kharl set the three quarrels on the desk. "Three men tried to kill me after breakfast this morning. They missed, but I thought you'd like to see these."
    "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
        "What good would it have done? They were too far away and in too much shadow for me to recognize anyone. It would have distracted you. We already know that people want me dead." Kharl shrugged.
        "We might have-" Hagen