Final Meetings

"So that's my concern, that as soon as I'm gone, the crown support for the survivors will dry up." I said.

Sir Ector calmly spread butter on his biscuit. "As you've noticed, a third of your … house? Cohort?"

"Circus." Ulwai said, sandwiching a piece of undercooked beef between two slices of cheese.

"Anyway." Sir Ector said. "A third of them have found employment elsewhere. Roughly half of the others have been smuggled out of the palace grounds in groups of no more than two."

"That's good." I said. "It means there's fewer for us to… Wait, you've been at this for a week and a half, then?"

"Two and a day." Sir Ector said.

"Before or after the bandit camp?" I asked.

"Does it matter? They're free of the palace, and thus safe."

I speared a cube of fruit with one of my claws. "I'm guessing that the cooking staff is among the number?"

Ulwai waved a hand. "They got better offers. Tavern, Restaurant, and Cookhouse, respectively."