Chapter Twenty

"The news is all over court," said Diah Jojaan, late the next morning. "There is no sign that anyone disbelieves the trick you played with the bodies. If the King does, he does not care because we have given him some openings to clean house in the less loyal parts of his military. With so many well-regarded Church leaders out of the picture, he will have more opportunities to shape popular opinion. Publicly, I'm as surprised by all this as anyone."

Sir nodded and held his hands out to the fire. He hadn't slept at all. After a hot bath and dry clothes, he still shivered.

Wishbone remembered Sir up to his elbows in blood and the look on his face as he crouched over a pile of dead humans. It was hard not to fear being alone with him just a little. Still, Wishbone wanted to cry in his arms for hours, but Sir hadn't said a word, let alone taken Wishbone aside.

"That was the best-played game I've ever seen," continued Diah Jojaan. "It's a pity that the moves and the outcome won't be more widely shared. You've broken a diplomatic impasse that has lasted for twenty years. Now will you reward yourself with a few hours of sleep?"

Sir rolled his eyes, thanked Diah Jojaan, and went to bed. When sunset painted the high cliffs over the harbor and no guards had knocked on the door, Sir seemed to relax at last. He continued to...