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wouldn’t follow that any wizard was worthy of my trust.”
    “But you’ve met Bahzell,” the old man said. “Come. Eat! His lady’s made you free of her kitchen, and that’s not a privilege that’s easily come by.”
    “No, I imagine it isn’t.” The red-haired man smiled unwillingly. It was a thin smile, edged with bitter uncertainty, yet a smile for all of that, and he dipped his spoon into his own bowl. “A daunting lady indeed.”
    “The Sothōii war maids have their little ways,” the old man said dryly.
    “Sothōii war maids?” The red-haired man looked back up sharply. “They’re pledged never to wed!”
    “So they are. Or were, at any rate.” The old man shrugged. “Their charter was…revised slightly in that respect some years ago. In fact, Leeana had a bit to do with that. Or her example did, anyway.” He smiled. “She does rather tend to set the entire world on its ear just when the people around her think it’s safe to take their eye off her. Of course, she comes by it naturally, I suppose.” He shook his head. “Surely you’ve realized our Leeana is special in every way? This whole household’s special, my friend, and Leeana carries the rank of a commander of one thousand.”
    The red-haired man’s eyes went back to the tall, slender woman with something like awe. War maids were seldom seen beyond the borders of the Wind Plain, but their reputation as fighters was second to none. The Sothōii’s splendid cavalry was the terror of their enemies, yet the war maids—for all that they’d never been considered truly “respectable” by most Sothōii—were equally skilled in their chosen role as light infantry, scouts, and mistresses of irregular warfare. If Leeana had led a thousand of them in battle, she was a force to be reckoned with. No wonder men stepped aside when she crossed a room! But what was she doing wed to a hradani, one of the Sothōii’s hereditary enemies? And why did the two of them manage a tavern in the Empire of the Axe, of all places?
    He turned eyes filled with questions to the wizard across the table, but the other man shook his head ever so slightly.
    “Your curiosity’s apparent,” he said softly, “but it isn’t my right to enlighten you. Not that it isn’t a tale well worth the telling—or that half the bards in Norfressa haven’t already tried their hand at telling it, for that matter—but none of the ballads get it quite right. Except for Brandark’s, perhaps.” The old man’s lips twitched on the edge of what looked like a smile. “Just understand that all the questions you’ve already imagined about them fall well short of the reality. If there’s time later, I’m sure they’ll be willing to tell you more, although it’s unlikely there will be time for it tonight. The evening’s schedule is likely to be a bit too much on the…full side for long stories, however good they may be. One word of caution I will give, however: offer no harm to anyone under this roof. Especially not to Gwynna Bahzelldaughter! If you do, no power on earth will save you.”
    The red-haired man shivered as the wizard’s expression offered the second part of his warning—that Bahzell and his redoubtable wife might be the least of his dangers if he posed a threat to the child. He couldn’t understand why that might be, but the cold certainty of it burned his nerves. Then the wizard’s expression relented and he smiled crookedly.
    “But we should speak of you, shouldn’t we?” he said more lightly.
    “What about me?” the red-haired man asked warily.
    “Don’t be foolish. A blind man could see you’re troubled, and I’m far from blind. Besides, I’m a wizard. I may know more about you than you do.”
    “You know who I am?”
    The younger man’s spoon dropped and his hand locked on the wizard’s wrist with bruising strength. The rumble of Blanchrach’s displeasure rose, and the direcat’s head lifted from his paws.
    “Softly, my friend.