He’s quite pleased with how he handled the doctors. The difficult thing is that I can’t tell whether he really did well, because his self-confidence gets in the way (and makes me think that because he thinks he did it right, he must have done it wrong).

I don’t think I got any sleep at all that night. As soon as I was back at the house, there were other things to be done. First of all, to get hold of a woman doctor willing to sail to Iss-Peran at short notice. I asked the house-master where to find the doctors’ guild, but he didn’t know. Then it occurred to me to ask the only doctor I did know where to find: the one who had treated Kare’s hand.

I sat in the waiting-room with a bunch of other people. A small boy came to talk to me, “do you want to know what’s wrong with me? I have a crooked leg, look! But it’s almost straight again, I’m getting my last brace today.” I told him that there was nothing wrong with me, but that I wanted to ask the doctor something. Then the other patients said that if it was only that, I could go first, no trouble at all.

The doctor could indeed tell me where to go: beyond the Temple of Mizran, and I couldn’t miss it because of the sign. “Old Erne is head of the guild now,” he said, “we take turns.” The guild-house proved to be easy enough to find. It was well appointed, whitewashed, the pillars on each side of the entrance painted blue. A girl showed me into another waiting-room because Erne was in a meeting. Another girl –this one clearly Síthi– gave me wine and something to eat. “Are you a doctor’s apprentice?” I asked. “Yes,” she said. I told her what I was there for and she knew what I was talking about, “I’ve got a boyfriend in the Order, I’ve heard about the case. Of course it sucks if your boyfriend is in the Order, it’s all right to make love but he’ll never commit to you.”

Finally Erne came out of her meeting. She turned out not to be as old as I’d expected, only a few years older than my mother, but daunting nevertheless. I introduced myself as the queen’s envoy and explained the situation. Haltingly, as I remember it, but she had no trouble understanding what I was looking for. “Would you take someone of any nation at all?” she asked. “Yes,” I said, and went on to qualify it, “I’d probably think twice about a Khas doctor– are there any Khas doctors?” I knew, though not from my own experience, that not all Khas are enemies, and said so. “I think I can find you someone suitable,” Erne said, “someone who wants to leave Essle as soon as possible, would you take her unconditionally?” I thought about that for a bit. “Not completely unconditionally,” I said, “it does depend on the reason she wants to leave Essle, if it’s for malpractice for instance…” I couldn’t think of any other good reasons, but Erne nodded: “If you’d said you’d take her unconditionally I wouldn’t have sent you anyone. It’s going to take a bit of time, but you can count on us.”

As soon as I got back I was taken to a staff meeting to talk about the last preparations. Boring –and all the more sleep-inducing because I was starting to feel my sleepless night– but all the same instructive. I told the sergeants we were waiting for the doctor, and that turned out to be the only thing that kept us from leaving now. A woman doctor was a good thing, the eldest sergeant said, “the army is mostly men, and some of them will drop their breeches for any man and they don’t mind a woman poking them, and the rest will drop their breeches for any woman and they won’t mind either.” Poor doctor– but then it’s likely that she’s used to it.

At the house three women were waiting for me already: a girl in her teens, a tall woman a few years older than me, and a middle-aged Síthi woman with a look of “of course you want me and neither of those upstart girls” on her face. The Síthi one was Baryati, the elder of the two others Vauri from Rizenay, and the younger another Vauri, from Essle. Neither Vauri was a full doctor yet, though Vauri from Rizenay was very close. Gifted, too, the only one of the three, though she looked as if she’d steered clear of both Guilds until now. There was something between the two Vauris that looked like my sisters quibbling, but I put it down to professional rivalry.

My first impression was that I wanted Vauri from Rizenay but ought to take Baryati. I stowed that away carefully and talked to all of them first, telling them about the army and Naravati. “I’ll take you to meet her if she agrees,” I said. She did, provided nobody touched her. I let them in one by one, “you can talk to her, but please don’t do anything medical yet or touch her at all.”

Vauri from Essle was in the room for quite a long time, and I could hear them talk animatedly. When she came out she was outraged: “What did those [word I can’t even remember] do to her! Has Alaise seen her?” Fortunately I could say that she had. “Good! She saw my sister too when…” I didn’t ask what happened to her sister, because obviously she didn’t really want to tell.

Vauri from Rizenay needed much less time to come to a conclusion. “I can believe her body is all fucked up,” she said, “but there’s much more wrong with her head! I don’t know if I can actually do anything about that, but I can always try.”

Baryati came out of Naravati’s room with a look that was close to fury on her face. “If a doctor and a patient don’t get on, there’s nothing for it but to seek another doctor. Anyway, I think she’s too ill to travel.”

I put the doctors back in the dismembered sitting-room, had someone bring them refreshments, and went to ask Naravati how she’d got on with them. She was livid. “Didn’t you tell them not to touch me? That Síthi woman pulled the sheet off and pawed at me!” She permitted me to hold her by the shoulders– I’d have thought that a good sign but for the look on her face. “I intend to take Vauri from Rizenay,” I said. “Perhaps both of the younger ones.” “No,” Naravati said, “don’t do that, they’ll fight all the time, they’re far too much in love with one another!” I hadn’t noticed that, and Naravati said “You’re a man, you wouldn’t know, you haven’t lived in a house where everybody who can still fall in love is a girl.” She didn’t prefer one Vauri over the other, though, so I could go with my choice of the more experienced one.

The three doctors were talking shop when I came in –not even about Naravati, just general doctor talk– and it was some time before they noticed me. I spoke to Baryati first; she already knew I wasn’t going to choose her, but that didn’t keep her from being haughty about it. The younger Vauri scowled at me, exactly like my sister Selle when she doesnb’t get her way –well, she was still a teenager– and disappeared.

I sat talking things over with the other Vauri for a while. She’d need to find a replacement for herself as assistant to an old alcoholic doctor, and to get her own equipment and supplies, because she couldn’t very well take his. Lydan was just coming in, so I sent him with her to kit her out. “Your quarry or mine?” he asked as he went out. “Yours, by all means,” I said. “I’m giving up the hunt until we’re on the other side.”

We sailed the next day, Vauri with a case and two huge baskets full of whatever. She immediately proceeded to give all the soldiers a health exam. Lydan and I were last: I was completely healthy, but Lydan needed copper salve. “It must have been that girl at the inn!” he said to me later. “Chucks every chance I ever had with Vauri, too.”

Vauri said that the servant girls would need the upper deck to themselves for at least an hour each day, so they could get some air without being bothered by the soldiers. They didn’t mind the helmsman, and he didn’t bother them, so that was all right, but after a few days the men had to get away from the girls instead of the other way around!

Sailing is boring, and apparently I don’t get seasick, so I’m going to ask the sergeant whether he has some good sword-fighters that I can train with. I must learn to speak some more Iss-Peranian too, and at least a veneer of Iss-Peranian manners, but I can ask Naravati for that.

This is the second part of a post that would otherwise be unwieldily long. (Small edits, mostly in conversation.)

The singing-girls were only the first lot of people we lost in a few days. Some went to be servants elsewhere, some found other work, a whole lot of girl clerks and a young eunuch or two enrolled in the trade school. The work went on, not only taking valuables to the attics but also converting the house to a royal palace with offices, and then there came a moment that we were suddenly finished. The building work wasn’t done, but the stowing away and labelling was. Only the small reception room was in its old state. Lydan paid Halla’s father and tipped Halla royally for the introduction: without him we’d have been stranded for sure. “We can leave!” I said to him. “We’ll have to,” he said with a grin, “we don’t have a kitchen at the moment, they’re breaking down the back wall to add on the next house.” And off he was, to order in food.

I resolved to go to Raisse and tell her that I was going ahead with it, but just then we had a visitor: my cousin Moyri, with all four of her little kids. The queen was occupied. I could say yes to her, not that it was necessary, because they’d organised a ship for us, funds, equipment and even a small regiment of Prince Uznur’s soldiers who had been too late to go with Athal and were perhaps a bit too smart to seek their fortune somewhere that had been under occupation for twenty years. “They’ll take some handling,” Moyri said. “Can you go and inspect them later today?” Well, yes, of course I could. “And what about that seneschal you were holding”? Gods, I’d completely forgotten about him, they must have had trouble breaking down kitchen walls with his room in the way! Never mind, Moyri said, she’d ask Uznur for a couple of guards, and if I had the papers and account book wrapped up she’d take them off my hands. While the parcel was being wrapped, she gave me a letter to Lydan from Bebakshi –the singing-girls were now in Tilis– and I put it in my shirt and played with my cute little cousins. I even remembered to ask about Kare: he was getting better, thank the gods, but he didn’t write himself yet, he had under-secretaries for that now. Including the girl from our house who had taken a shine to him and was now working for the court.

When Moyri left one of the remaining servant girls came to find me, looking worried. “It’s about Naravati,” she said. “I think she hasn’t washed herself or changed her clothes for days. And not eaten either. She doesn’t let anybody touch her.” I went to Naravati’s room and found her on her bed, gaunt and stinking. I knew she needed help urgently. “Can you get a woman doctor?” I asked the girl, but she said that it would have to be a doctor who didn’t treat any men at all, and Valdyan doctors all did. I got a desperate idea, which might just work: I tried to find Alaise, the midwife, by sending my mind into town for grand masters. I found her in the middle of practice, reassuring someone. “It’s a Guild affair,” I said as soon as she had time to listen. “If it’s a Guild affair you need Phuli,” she said dismissively. “No, a medical Guild affair, we need someone who doesn’t treat men.” That seemed to ring a bell with her. “Oh! You’re Fian! I’ll be along presently.”

She was as good as her word. I’d never seen Alaise before, just heard of her by reputation. Small, bent, very old, but with watchful piercing eyes and a huge presence. I told her in short what had happened to Naravati, and she went into the room with some servant girls and presently a seal appeared on the door, made partly by Naravati herself. It was clear that Alaise –and perhaps Naravati too– wanted me to watch with my mind. I was shocked, appalled– what those men had done to her, so bad that she hadn’t wanted to see her own body, she’d only wanted to keep it out of sight. The girls came out of the room with Naravati’s black robe, wrinkling their noses at the smell. Presently Alaise came out too, saying “I’m eighty-three years old and I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, but never something like this. What’s she to you?” That was hard. “We’re working together,” I said. “We’ve made a pact. I started out wrong, but I’m trying to make it up.” “An Eraday with a conscience? That’s new to me,” she said, already on her way to the kitchen to wash her hands. “I’m not Eraday any more,” I said. “And even when I was Eraday I had a conscience.” I trailed after her, but she didn’t say much more, only “You know, perhaps you ought to be a master before you leave.”

Well, that wasn’t very helpful! I knew I was almost a master in the Guild, and that it would be better for many things, but I hadn’t exactly kept up with my learning since leaving for Essle. Dejected, I went to see Naravati, who was lying under a sheet dressed in a clean shift. She didn’t want to talk yet, but consented to being brought something to eat. I couldn’t stay long, because Lydan was waiting for me to come and inspect the regiment, but I saw a girl bringing her a bowl of soup before I left. Lydan grinned at me and said “I bet you that you’ll kiss her before we’re in Albetire!” and I grinned back and took the bet –two shillings as always– but I believe that he’ll lose it.

I put on something more princely than the working-clothes I’d spent the last few days in and we went to the harbour where the regiment was waiting to be inspected. More than two hundred men and women, Valdyans with a sprinkling of darker-skinned people, with three sergeants –which didn’t seem to be many– and, as the eldest sergeant said, with me as the captain. I told him frankly that I was depending on him, because I didn’t have as much experience (no experience at all, but I didn’t say that; if he can’t tell that for himself he’s not the man I take him for). I was walking past the ranks when something caught my eye –not really my actual eyes, because when I looked straight I didn’t see it, but something in the corner of my mind– but there was a handful of men who looked out of place. A bit small, a bit wiry, not at all as soldierly as the rest; badly dressed and overly smart at the same time. I asked the sergeant about them. “Those seven, they’ve only just joined today,” he said, “adventure-seekers, I suppose, didn’t seem anything wrong with them.” They did make me uncomfortable. One had a gold ring and very white teeth and seemed to be the leader. I went up to him and asked “What do you expect of the south?” “Well, Albetire, you know, adventure, pretty girls, streets paved with gold!” “Adventure and pretty girls, sure,” I said, “but you’ll find the paving-stones are made of stone there like everywhere!” Then, in order not to attract attention, I had to ask a couple of others what they expected of the south. “I’m from Rizenay,” a big woman said, “and what I expect of the south, no snow any more, ever! And pretty girls, too.” “Not handsome blokes?” “I had a man back home, and didn’t like it much!” she said.

The out-of-place men kept bothering me, ever more in fact, though Lydan saw nothing strange about them. I told the sergeant that I wanted them dismissed. “What reason shall I give?” I had to think about that for a bit. “No room on the ship, I suppose, if they joined late.” “Then do I dismiss the three who came later still, as well?” No, that wasn’t necessary, just that bunch. I still didn’t know exactly why, but I knew there was something. “I’m bringing a woman I work with,” I said to the sergeant, “she’s had a hard time lately, she’ll need some extra protection.” He got my meaning and promised a to form a squad of women. Good! One worry less, at least, two if I counted the dismissal of the men.

I spent most of the evening trying to talk to every single person who was still in the house, starting with the old seneschal. He was as glad as I was that we were leaving: the house would be closed while the rest of the work was done on it. Several of the former servants would be coming with us to Albetire: some clerks, the younger of the cooks, a few maids and the cartographer’s young eunuch apprentice who not only wanted to see the world, but also hoped to find out whether his parents were still alive.

We were sitting on the few remaining chairs and boxes and bales, drinking from a strange assortment of cups and glasses and goblets and eating from yet another tray that Lydan had had brought in, when everybody who was even the slightest bit gifted was bowled over by a tremendous nightmare of Naravati’s. I ran to her room, took her hands and saw what she was dreaming of– and also why I’d been so repulsed by the men in the regiment. They were those men, her attackers! I told Lydan, and he ran to the Order to tell Morin while I tried my best to comfort Naravati. When Lydan came back he said that the Order was after them, but they needed my directions; I reached Morin, but to really show him something I’d have to be closer. Naravati was now being pampered by a gaggle of girls, as well as the boy who was so infatuated with her –she didn’t seem to mind, so I asked him whether he wanted to come along to Iss-Peran and he said yes; he can be her personal servant if she wants him– so I took my sword and went to the harbour where I’d seen that Morin was.

It was a very unsavoury neighbourhood where I found Morin and a handful of the Sworn. He greeted me much more cordially than he’d done at the Order house– perhaps because we both understood that we were there for the same thing. I showed him the seven men, and he nodded curtly, “we’ve had our eyes on them for quite some time. Especially since Jinla disappeared.” I made a sympathetic noise, but he said “This is Essle. People do disappear.”

Our quarry must be near, but we didn’t see anybody until I caught a glimpse much like the one when inspecting the army, the merest glimmer of presence in an alley almost too narrow to be called one. I nudged Morin with my hand and my mind and we went in, stopping at a doorway where I felt the presence more strongly. Morin sent a journeyman to make a noise in the room beyond the doorway; presently a trap-door opened and some of the men I’d seen jumped out, narrowly missing the journeyman who leapt aside just in time. There was some very chaotic fighting; it didn’t help that the fight was joined by a handful of people of the Nameless, led by a youngish man who Morin told me was Radan, son of Radan of the Dawn. They seemed to be on our side, though, having as much issue with the thugs as we did. Finally all seven had been caught, some knocked out, one probably dead. Radan had one against the wall and was beating him up, trying to get information out of him. “We have a pact with the other Guild,” Morin said to me, “don’t ask, don’t tell.”

The thug leader was down, but not beaten: he kept spewing abuse at all of us. “Hang me, will you already?” When he saw me in the light that someone of the Order had made, he shouted “So it was your girl! Hey lads, that was the princeling’s girl! My mates have all had her, haven’t you lads? The other bitch as well, but she was no fun, so we tossed her in the bog.” Radan tore open his cheek with his ring, but Morin kept him from doing more and pulled down the man’s trousers. He didn’t have any balls– though he was clearly Valdyan, he was a eunuch. “Where do you come from?” I asked. “Who did that to you and why?” “Albetire,” he said, “and it’s none of your business. Do you want to see it? Like it? Come closer, then.” “I don’t want to see it,” I said. “I want to know.” But he wasn’t going to tell me: he pulled loose and heaved himself up and threw himself at me with all he had, body and mind, with a power that was very much like Naravati’s way of handling semsin. The only thing I could do was to defend myself with all I had, mind and sword. He had so much momentum that he ran into my sword, it went through him like through butter, and I could feel him dying and pulling me along with him in death, in blackness–

Stop! I could call on Anshen for help, of course. So I did that, and found myself filled with light, and standing in a shaft of light, so strong that nobody could reach me, not even my friends. It went away after a while, people were milling about cleaning up, and I was standing there feeling silly. And inexplicably ravenous.

“What a nasty way to take your master’s trial,” I heard Morin’s voice say. What? Well, yes, he was right, but I was first and foremost hungry. “I want a mountain of squid and onions,” I said. “And a big jug of bad beer.”

That could be done: a quayside hole-in-the-wall was still open. As I sat on an upturned barrel eating the worst and most welcome meal in my life, I saw seven bodies dangling from a beam. They’d hanged even the ones already dead, probably to make an example. Morin came to sit next to me with his own jug and food; brothers for now. “When you write to the queen,” he said, “I don’t think you should mention the way we go about this. With Radan’s people and all. This is Essle, after all.”

More stuff written by Fian’s evil twin because there’s no way he could have had time to write. And he’s still embarrassed, but no longer terminally so.

Some of the incidents may be out of order, because this is two sessions that run together in my mind.

Posted in two parts; Part 4 forthcoming.

Well, Athal is away to the south on a ship, poor man. I didn’t go to see him off, because I was too busy keeping Halla’s father and the under-seneschal Khatar from killing each other. I said earlier that the under-seneschal seemed a decent chap, but that was before I knew him– he’s the kind of person who gets under one’s skin subtly and insidiously. I did go to the temporary palace –the Mighty Servant’s doxy’s house– to talk to the queen about Naravati, and she promised to go to the Order house to speak to her.

The next day was much alike: work and more work, with me overseeing and trying to keep the peace, and Lydan keeping records and running to the Temple of Mizran and everywhere, and ordering in food because all the suppliers seemed to think that because Koll Neveshtan had died nobody in the house needed to eat.

I was in bed, cuddling up to Ramesh, and almost asleep, when a noise made me sit bolt upright. Ramesh wanted to soothe me, but I wanted to investigate. Downstairs, there didn’t seem to be anything amiss, but I didn’t trust it anyway. While I was trying to decide which door to seal –I can only keep track of one at a time– and becoming frustrated because a house like this doesn’t have any single door that everybody has to go through, Ramesh came back from the kitchen where she’d gone to fetch something to eat and said “Naravati is back!”

So she was: in rags, battered, terrified. She fell at my feet when she saw me, and I tried to raise her, saying “I’ve done you great wrong!” but she wouldn’t have any of it. She’d been wandering about in town, sent away by the queen to fend for herself –would Raisse do that?–, been attacked by men, a woman had tried to interfere but had been attacked herself, and then she’d been so scared and hurt that her dandar sense had led her straight back to the house.

Eventually not only I, but also all the eunuchs were evicted from the kitchen. I sat outside the door for a bit, but I didn’t seem to be wanted, so I went back to bed. Ramesh went with me, but it felt insensitive to make love to her even though she wanted to console me that way, so I only took her in my arms and fell asleep.

In the morning Naravati appeared at my bedside, very stiff and collected, dressed in a long black robe that covered all of her except her head and hands. She was carrying a tray, probably breakfast, but I made her put it down without even looking at it. She wanted to talk to me. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the Iss-Peranian mindset that makes people say they’re worth nothing and mean it, not just to be extra polite. She did just that, but when I managed to listen through it we could understand one another: we asserted that I’m an adventurer, and she is a bitch, and I wouldn’t last for more than a day in Iss-Peran without her so she was offering her services. Also, having a dandar of my own would be almost indispensable for my status.

I didn’t say yes yet. I didn’t want to say yes out of guilt or obligation which is what it would have been if I’d taken her on at once, but promised to think about it. Then I suddenly felt hungry, probably because of the smells from the breakfast tray. But wait! Suppose… Nothing looked or smelt out of the ordinary, and I couldn’t see much with my mind, but I didn’t trust the fruit at all. “Are you trying to poison me?” I asked, offering her a piece of it. She declined –of course– and took my hand and showed me the various ways that everything on the tray had been poisoned, the wine most subtly, only with the mind. I really wouldn’t be able to do without someone who could protect me from that.

Just as I was about to say something, Lydan came in and said that there were some strange people who said the king had sent them to take away the singing-girls. Khatar was hovering over them in the small reception, but they seemed unfazed by him. Strange people indeed: a man and a woman, both middle-aged, she with hair in lots of little braids decorated with green beads, he with longish fingernails painted green. “Athal –His Majesty I suppose I should say– sent us here because you have some young women who want to be travelling musicians,” the woman said. “We’d like to hear them.” I sent for Ramesh, Fairuz and Bebakshi, and they sang– rather well, I thought, and at one point the man poked the woman in the ribs, and later the woman trod on the man’s foot. “If we take them on they’ll have to learn a different act,” she said, “this way they won’t ever be safe!” She did ask them a lot of things about music– could they play any instruments? Fairuz should keep on singing, her voice was the best, and the others could borrow some until they had their own. “We’ll buy them with our freeing money!” Ramesh said brightly, and that made me realise that they’d need their freeing papers and letters of credit.

Khatar brought the papers when I asked, but there seemed to be something wrong– a hunch reinforced by a fleeting thought from Naravati who was standing in the doorway. I checked that the names were right, then called for Kare, who brought a blank freeing paper so I could check that the wording was right, but still something was wrong. Another hunch– “Take me to the strongroom, I want to see all the papers!” I said, and we all went, Khatar and I and Kare and Naravati. There was barely enough room for two, so Kare and I examined the drawers– there was another drawer, barely visible in the decorated front! I was about to open it, but Naravati stopped me, squeezed in past me and did it herself with movements that looked exaggeratedly careful. The drawer was full of papers– all acknowledgements of debt from the former slaves, sealed with their thumbprint. Two hundred from this one, a thousand from that one, made out to Khatar personally. “What is this?” I asked, but he wouldn’t answer. Kare reached all the way to the back of the drawer, pricking his thumb painfully on a needle. He put it in his mouth at once, sucked it, and spat something out– poison? But he’d found something: a leather-covered book in which Khatar had been keeping accounts of all slaves– food, clothes, tools, doctors’ visits, everything! “This is illegal in Iss-Peran,” Kare said, sucking his thumb again, “though in Valdyas there’s no law against it.”

“You should get to a doctor, quick!” I told Kare, remembering what Naravati had told me. He nodded –his thumb was swelling ominously already– and disappeared. I had the servants prepare the only room in the house that I knew to have only one door –the one we’d found the little boys in — for Khatar, “make it as comfortable as you can so he can stay there for a while”. Then I went to Khatar’s room with Naravati, to see what else we could find. Apart from the three doors, there was one spot where I felt… not quite a draught, but a weakness, between the bed and the wall, or under the bed. There were three low chests under the bed: one with clothes, one with bed-linen, and one so heavy that Naravati and I together could barely push it, which turned out to be full of gold and silver and jewelry. “Those are Bebakshi’s ankle-rings!” Naravati cried, picking them out of the heap. “She was punished so when she’d lost them!”

We had the chest removed by a pair of eunuchs burlier than us, and found that it had been covering a hatch in the floor, leading to the water below.

“Do you know the poison?” I asked Naravati, but she didn’t. She pulled out one of the poison needles from the drawer immediately and I called Moyri to ask which doctor Kare would visit. He was indeed there, and also another doctor in the Guild, and someone from the Guild who wasn’t a doctor but had been in Iss-Peran and knew about poisons. It was a while before I could make clear that we had a sample of the poison: everybody was looking at Kare’s hand which was now halfway between purple and black and swollen to five times its normal size. Once they had the sample, they sent us away while they set to making an antidote.

Lydan said that we’d do best to burn all the acknowledgements and the accounts book so they wouldn’t exist any more, but I thought it would be better to find an Iss-Peranian lawyer, or at least someone who knew about Iss-Peranian law, and ask them what to do against Khatar. “Or the queen,” I said, “she’s half a lawyer.” Lydan agreed– “but perhaps the wrong half, I sometimes think.”

Athal’s musicians, bless them, were still in the small reception room. They were good-natured enough about it, willing to take the girls along, especially when I said I’d take care of any nasty paperwork that remained. Ramesh and I hugged each other with thanks for a good time on both sides. Bebakshi couldn’t let go of Lydan, and that was on both sides too, but eventually they’d all left.

That evening Lydan and I went to have a beer in a nearby inn, and we felt as much out of place there as we must have looked among the journeymen and labourers. And none of the girls were pretty enough to make an effort for, though we’d probably have thought them all right a few weeks ago.

Very hard to write because I was writhing with vicarious embarrassment.

I am so ashamed! For of course Morin was right, much as I hate to have to admit that. Well, I’ll start at the beginning. I took the boys to the queen as I’d made up my mind to do, only to find her in great haste because she was leaving to visit the poor quarters. Lydan’s girl Bebakshi came along because they clung to her like snails to vines, and also because she could understand the kind of Iss-Peranian they spoke and Lydan and I understood less than half of it.

Because the queen didn’t have time she told me to solve the problem myself, but the boys could stay in the sort-of-palace and so could Bebakshi, for now. I think she signed and sealed a freeing letter, too, but it was all so hectic that I’m not sure. “You’ve taken my girl away!” Lydan complained, when we were in the boat again, but I think he’ll get her back– I’m of a mind to find a woman veteran, or a man who has little kids of his own, who is going to Lenyas anyway, and have them to take the boys to my sister Rhani with a letter. After all Rhani’s eldest is much the same size, and there’s room enough at the manor for two more sprogs. Bebakshi is afraid of horses, and goats, and anything with more than two legs I think, so she wouldn’t want to live on a farm.

Then we went back to the house, where we found a priestess of Mizran, Halla. Not the king’s secretary I used to chase, who also started out a priestess of Mizran, but a youngish one sent to help us take inventory. She said she didn’t know much about valuable pieces from Iss-Peran herself, but her father did, it was his work, would I like her to get him? Well, yes, please, because I don’t know much (or indeed anything) about valuable pieces from Iss-Peran either. She did warn me that her father is a shrewd businessman, and his expertise comes at a cost, but it still seemed a better option than trying to appraise everything myself or taking the former servants at their word.

Halla’s father duly appeared; if he told me his name I’ve forgotten it. He’s a small shifty man, not one I’d trust on sight if Halla wasn’t vouching for him, but he seemed to know what he was doing. His fee is ten riders an hour, which seemed steep to me until he made me calculate how much the difference would be if we tried to sell some of the best items at too low a price, I hired him for the rest of the day –six hours– and promised to decide whether or not to keep him for a week, at a discount. I think, at the rate that we’ve been going, that a week will be enough to get all the real valuables stored and indexed. He tried to interest me in some books for the queen too, but I’ll have to take that up with her when things are less busy.

In the middle of the day Lydan prodded me, “are you going to do something with that dandar?” With all we’d been doing I’d plain forgotten her. Or perhaps something in my mind had kept me from thinking of her– which is something else again. Naravati (that’s her name) was very indignant when I told her I didn’t want any dandar in the house. “The king promised that everybody could stay in the house until they had other work; do you intend to break the king’s promise?” I had nothing to say against that, of course, except that the queen had forbidden dandar in Valdyas, and she could choose between two things, either leave Valdyas or stop being dandar. She said she couldn’t stop being dandar any more than I could stop being in the Guild of Anshen, or being a nobleman: it was what she was. Again true, of course, but I still wouldn’t have her in the house. Eventually she went and got her stuff –two little bundles– and came with us to the Order house, fuming silently.

Aidan was there, with his whole troop, playing cat and mouse with the prince from Solay– not the whole troop, only Aidan, and because the prince was a head and a half taller and twice as heavy it looked a bit comical. The prince had learned a lot since I last saw him: at least he knew one end of a sword from the other!

Meanwhile, the journeyman who had let us in fetched Morin. I’d forgotten how much he made one wish the ground would open below one’s feet! Lydan is much less sensitive to that –perhaps because he doesn’t see Morin’s anie— but I felt my knees as well as my resolution melt under his gaze.

I realised then, with Morin asking embarrassing questions, that I didn’t have anything to charge the dandar with except that she made me uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable, true, but getting used to that sort of thing is part of what I’m doing the job for, isn’t it? I almost took her back to the house with me, but that was one step too much– or would it have been the noble thing to do? I couldn’t see whether she was enthralling Morin with her dandar ways, or if it was me being prejudiced against her and Morin right and just. (And everything Morin does gets my hackles up, however right and just it is; it’s the way he does it.) Finally Morin agreed to keep Naravati in the Order house until tomorrow, when the queen can see her.

I sparred with Aidan a bit afterwards, but I was distracted and didn’t do as well as I might have. He called me a wimp –probably more accurate than he knew– and told me to practice more if I wanted to accomplish anything against the Iss-Peranians. I must admit that he’s right, it’s a good idea, if only to relax after working harder than I’ve been used to all my life. That I spent the rest of the day working so hard, though, was not because of the work but in order not to think about Naravati and how I wronged her. Whether I wronged her, that’s a better question. And what now?

Fian doesn’t actually have time to write so much of a diary, but I’m letting his evil twin write it because I want it to be written. It’s very much his voice.

Essle, day of Naigha, eighth week of Mizran

Lydan says I should write everything down because otherwise my grandchildren will never believe what I tell them. Well, I scarcely believe it myself at the moment, so yes, it’s a good idea.

Where did it start? Perhaps with joining the travelling court so I could be near Halla. Not that I ever had any chance with her, I see that now, and even then she was already as cold as a fish. Lydan says she’s probably secretly in love with the king, but I think it may be the queen she’s secretly in love with. Or only with her work– she should have been bursar of the Order of the Sworn, or perhaps of the Temple of Naigha.

Anyway, being in the travelling court got me in the right place at the right time for the queen to offer me, well, the job of a lifetime. Literally. She wants to send me to Albetire to woo a pair of young merchant ladies —the merchant ladies there at the moment– and get them –both!– to marry me and seize the throne. The throne of Albetire, that is, I wouldn’t presume to touch Athal’s throne and Raisse asking me to seize that would be… well, I don’t want to even think about it. The guy who is currently on the throne in Albetire is, everybody agrees, no good. The young ladies have somewhat of an army, together with the Valdyan and Síthi parts of Albetire, and there’s already a civil war going on between them and the palace. It’s now a matter of winning that and getting rid of the no-good king to make sure there is a throne for the seizing.

It seems that they thought of me because they –the king and the queen and my many-times-removed cousin Moyri– were visiting the uncle of the no-good king, a rich Iss-Peranian gelding-man merchant living here in Essle. He died the next night (probably not because of the visit, on the contrary, he made them visit him because he knew he was about to die) and left all his worldly goods to King Athal. Whopping big house with everything in it, all his servants, lots of money. He had a clause put in the will that Athal won’t get the money until the war is over, so he doesn’t throw it into the bottomless well of the war effort (that’s Lydan’s phrase) but uses it for himself and the little princes. And if he doesn’t come back, the little princes get it. That didn’t keep the king, or rather the queen and Cousin Moyri, from taking possession of the house at once and wanting someone to do everything that needed doing. That was me as well, it turned out, as training for going to Iss-Peran for real. I said yes on the condition that I could have Lydan as my secretary (and to keep a level head when I can’t).

So here we are after a day of nothing but setting slaves free. Tomorrow we start taking inventory. The queen and Cousin Moyri were here and made sure that all rooms with anything that might be valuable were sealed off, and I’m sure that some things will disappear regardless. They’ve already taken a few things away themselves, but that’s only Koll Neveshtan’s personal diaries, because they think those may have clues to the situation in Albetire. I don’t read enough Iss-Peranian yet to make sense of them, though Moyri lent me her secretary and he’s teaching me as fast as I can take it in.

It’s so sad, all those boys who aren’t boys any more and will never be men. The old geezer didn’t want any men in his house, just women and geldings. It’s strange that the women here are mostly strong and sharp, and the men (well, what passes for men) are either soft or bone-dry. It’s not so bad when they’re old, and the seneschal Behrouz is actually a decent sort of chap, as is Khatar, the under-seneschal. (Who was a spy for the Khandihan, the queen says. That probably means he’s not a spy for the no-good king of Albetire, but you never know. I’ll have to get used to the idea that there are spies everywhere.) I like the cartographer too, who is youngish and shy. He’s now in the library copying maps for the king and the queen, because they can’t take the original maps from the house.

Lydan and I are now sitting in the main reception room with wine and a platter full of small delicious things. Most of those people we spent the whole day setting free are staying on as servants! That will be mainly a good thing, because the queen intends to use the house as a war office for the time being and someone will have to do all the work, but on the other hand it’s as if they don’t know or understand that they are free now. They’re treating me as the master of the house, and Lydan as a sort of associate master, while we’re really only glorified clerks working for the king.

Later

Three girls came and sang for us– only voices, no instruments because the queen has decreed that those must stay in the music room. After a while Lydan asked “do you think they can dance, too?” and I exercised my scanty Iss-Peranian to ask. Apparently not, but one of them went and got a fourth girl, who did dance– wow! Completely naked, making both of us goggle, sinuous movements that looked more erotic than I’d ever seen (and I’ve seen quite a few things!) and sweat that seemed to run down her body in preordained paths. I got the strangest feeling, that it was a trap, or perhaps a test, and I did my best not to give my body free rein.

Eventually she stopped and came over to me. I don’t recall exactly what she said, and what I said, except that she said she was a virgin (which I doubted) and that I said she was not for me, and I was not for her. “What have I done wrong, then? Didn’t I dance correctly?” I didn’t know anything about correct, of course, but it had been beautiful (and exciting, which I didn’t tell her but then that was hardly necessary), but no, she was not for me. What would she do, then, when the queen had forbidden her to do what she could do? And more like that. She seemed to be gifted in a way I couldn’t fathom, and using that to sway me, getting more and more heartrending. But she didn’t know Ainei Fian astin Nusan yet, I know how to deal with girls who get weepy. I think we actually argued, and then she stormed off in a huff and left the cloak that one of the other girls had brought her.

Lydan, meanwhile, had done the sensible thing and gone off with one of the singing-girls, a little plump one with a low voice and a nice smile. We have had an arrangement ever since we started chasing girls together: that we only sleep with girls who like us as much as we like them.

I sat around for a while, drinking wine and eating some of the leftover delicacies, when I spotted something behind a curtain– actual movement, or the stir of a mind? I couldn’t tell from where I sat so I went to investigate, and there was a boy of ten or so –a gelding, of course– blushing quite prettily. He’d been looking at the dancing-girl; he always does, it seems,.he’s head over heels in love with her however hopeless it is. He told me she’s so beautiful that he can’t keep his eyes off her, even though she’s a nasty witch. Leaving me to ponder that –so that was what the girl had meant about the queen!– he disappeared into the service corridor.

Lydan came back almost the instant the boy was gone, wearing a loose shift I hadn’t seen before. He was upset– “she was a virgin, Fian! She knew how to do everything but she hadn’t ever really done it!” It figured, really, what would an old gelding-man do with all those girls? “Did she enjoy it at least?: I asked Lydan, and he thought she had. We talked a bit more, about girls in general and the plump girl in particular, and about the dancing-girl, and then Lydan said that there were some boys here he could fancy too– and I’ve know him almost all my life and never knew he fancied boys or men at all, perhaps because we’ve always been chasing girls together as I  don’t fancy boys. “Could you fall for me?” I asked, amazed, and he said that he could, but only if I liked men at all.

I went to bed eventually, shored up by Lydan because frankly I’d had a couple too many, I could hardly believe what I saw on my bed– the dancing-girl! I went out and closed the door on her, a bit annoyed at myself that though I didn’t want her, my body obviously did. “I want a bucket of cold water,” I said to Lydan, but he had a better idea: he took me to his room where he didn’t only have his own girl, but one of the other singing-girls. This one wasn’t a virgin, fortunately, though most of her competence was obviously from a book too. “You’re a nobleman, aren’t you?” she asked afterwards. I had to admit that I was. “Do you think I’m good enough for the Pussies?” “With a bit more practice, yes,” I said, and then of course I had to give her a bit more practice. (With luck, my grandchildren will be Iss-Peranians and able to imagine all of this for themselves, so I won’t be more explicit)

In the morning the girls were still there –we hadn’t dreamed them!– and mine gave me the best back-rub I’d ever had. Then we wanted breakfast, and Lydan suggested going to the kitchen because though the girls had said they were going to get us something to eat, they didn’t come back nearly soon enough. And anyway, back home, if you wanted to know how things really were, you talked to the cook,

Only, the kitchen wasn’t anything like home. We should have been prepared for that. The moment we set foot across the threshold every voice was silent, every knee bowed, every forehead on the ground to us. Lydan wasn’t bothered by that and sat down at the kitchen table, and when I’d told the staff –for so they were, still, for all they’d been freed– to get up and get on with their work, they did so. Except the cook himself, an elderly gelding-man (I’ll have to get used to the Iss-Peranian word, eunuch), and the housekeeper, who we’d talked to already, a woman called Tarjomé.They came, and served us breakfast, and were willing to talk. We got wine, in the Iss-Peranian way, and when I said I was used to beer at breakfast they went into a tirade about the Khandihan being served beer at the palace, “Valdyan grain wine! He’s never been so insulted in his life! Everybody knows it’s made of barley with fermented mice to make it bubble!” I swallowed a snicker about the fermented mice, and I’m still wondering whether the Khandihan was really insulted but extremely polite, because I was there when he tasted it (well, as a squire serving at table, but still) and he did look pleasantly surprised.

After a while the kitchen people seemed to be used to us. While I was talking to the cook, the housekeeper took Lydan away. Presently he came back, “you have to come, now! I think we’re not too late this time.” In a back room, a sort of scullery or wash-house, two small boys were huddled in a corner. They weren’t more than about six years old, perfectly identical, looking very scared. Also, there was a seal on the door to the outside that wasn’t like anything I recognised, except that it stank of the dancing-girl and I didn’t want it there. “Now I really want a bucket of cold water!” I said, and Lydan brought me one. I washed my hands, which didn’t help much, and then threw the whole bucket over my front, which helped a little more, and I could get the seal off, making someone in the house shriek very loudly. Good!

Then I tried to talk to the boys, but they didn’t understand me, so I asked Lydan to get his plump girl. She could indeed talk to them– they’d come here two years ago to be educated. When I was that age– well, of course I was in the priestess of Naigha’s class learning to read and write, but most of the time I was running around the streets of Erday with Lydan and the rest of our crowd.

Nobody had brought these boys out to be freed along with the rest because they were afraid of the queen. Well, I’ve seen Raisse angry, so I can imagine people being afraid of her when they cross her, and if there’s one thing she can’t stand it’s child slaves. Eventually I succeeded in getting one of the boys on my lap, and feeling surreptitiously under his shift– yes, he was intact all right, and so was his brother. “What do you want to do with them?” Lydan’s girl asked, hands on hips. I said I’d like them to be brought up in a family, preferably a Valdyan one that didn’t have enough children. It seems a good idea to take them to the queen after all, at once, to get them freed at least and then see if we can do something.