Chapter 7

where it was served with almost every meal. “Your people are such…

assiduous loggers.”

The pause did nothing to hide Lornysh’s distaste of all things related to

humans and their proclivities. That he’d worked so many years as a scout in

Gryphon Company, and occasionally even an assassin, was a marvel. He’d

never shared his reason for turning on his people, but a few omissions here

and there led Jev to believe Lornysh had been cast out for some reason.

“We like to clear them so we can farm and eat, but I can find you some

trees on our land,” Jev said. “I would be happy to string you up a hammock

outside the castle.”

It would actually be easier for Jev to fulfill his promise of sanctuary to

Lornysh if he opted to sleep outside. Perhaps his father need never know an

elf was on his land. Not that Jev would lie if the subject came up. His honor

wouldn’t permit that.

“You going to live here among the humans, Lorn?” Cutter asked.

“For a few weeks. I wish to see some of their culture and art. I haven’t

decided yet what I’ll do after that.”

Jev hadn’t either, and this was his home. Was that odd?

He was sure his father would be quick to put him to work again on the

estate, which had to have been neglected since the king had required that Jev

recruit eighty of their men to form up a company to join the army with him.

So many women had been without their husbands for so long. And some of

their husbands would never return.

Jev felt he owed something to the estate for that, especially since he

hadn’t been able to keep an eye on his men once he’d been transferred to

Gryphon Company, but a job overseeing Dharrow farms, dairy, and craftsmen

seemed far too tame to hold his interest after the action of war. All the other

men spoke of plans, of all the delightful things they would enjoy now that

they were free. And Jev had no idea beyond introducing a dwarf to a bearded

woman and finding a hammock for Lornysh.

A blue robe on the docks caught his eye. A woman from the Water Order

stood at the base of the recently extended gangplank, a space of several feet

around her clear of people, even though soldiers, sailors, and vendors

hawking their wares crowded the area. Only one person stood near the robed

figure, another woman, this one in a blue monk’s gi. She was as stout as a

dwarf, one of their temple’s enforcers, no doubt.

Jev saw the browns, reds, and whites of the other Orders farther up the

dock and assumed the temple representatives were here to talk to Targyon.

Poor kid. Jev wasn’t sure what was worse. Getting stuck with the job of king

or having to deal with the Orders.

“I’ve heard you have to join some kind of criminal guild if you want to be

an assassin in a human city,” Cutter said. “I will join nothing,” Lornysh said.

“So, you’re going to be as social here as you were in the company.”

“There is nothing I wish to say to humans. Or dwarves.”

“Or elves either, apparently,” Cutter said, “seeing as how you’re fine with

poking them with arrows these days. Is it hard making friends when you’ll

stick pointy metal in anyone you meet?”

Lornysh looked at Jev, as if Jev were Cutter’s handler and could silence

him with a jerk of a leash.

“How far is the hammock tree from his room?” Lornysh asked.

“Nearly a mile,” Jev said, waving toward the gangplank. Targyon and six

soldiers pressed into bodyguard duty had already descended, and other men

were crowding it, eager to escape into the city. “The grounds around the castle

were cleared centuries ago, back when squabbles between the zyndar were as

common within the kingdom’s borders as battles with surrounding nations.”

“A mile should suffice,” Lornysh said.

“You’re sure? Cutter snores loudly.”

“Are the walls of your castle so thin?”

“The snore of a dwarf is a battering ram even thick walls cannot

withstand,” Jev said.

“True.”

Jev walked down the gangplank ahead of his companions, hoping people

would notice him first and not make trouble for Lornysh. Not even a half elf

would be welcome in the capital these days. A full-blooded one? Jev wanted

to get him past the city walls as quickly as possible.

As he walked, he made sure the gold wolf-head clasp securing his gray

cloak to his shoulders was visible. The Dharrow family emblem marked him

as zyndar, a noble from one of the oldest and most recognizable lines.

Commoners here in Korvann, so close to where his family held their land, had

always nodded or greeted him with respect.

The blue-robed woman from the Water Order still waited at the bottom of

the gangplank. That surprised Jev since Targyon and his escort were moving

away from the docks, the colored robes of Order representatives all around

him, including someone else in a blue robe.

This woman had dark brown hair pulled back in a braid and an olive-

skinned face one might have called beautiful if it had appeared less haughty

and aloof. She pinned Jev with a cool green-eyed gaze and stepped forward as

he reached the end of the gangplank.

He gave her a nod, recognizing the large silver clasp at her shoulder, the

emblem of an inquisitor. He should have guessed from the monk standing at

her side. He wondered who on the ship she had been sent to question. A

sailor? All the soldiers had been gone for years, so they couldn’t be associated

with any recent trouble in the city.