hurt. Balasar didn't smile. With all the gravity he could manage, he nodded.
"It will cause problems if I have her killed," Balasar said. "The local
men are uneasy already. I could have her whipped-"
"No! She must die!"
"If there was some other way that honor could he served . .
Riaan leaned hack, his gaze cold. This, Balasar thought, was the man on
whom the hopes of the world rested. A man who had leapt at the chance to
turn against his own people, who had eaten the interest and novelty of
the people of Acton like it was honey bread, who vented his rage on
whores and servants. Balasar had never seen a tool less likely. And yet,
the poet was what he needed, and the stakes could not have been higher.
He sighed.
"I will see to it," Balasar said. "And permit me to send you my own
personal physician. I would not have a man of your importance suffer,
Most High."
"This should never have happened," Riaan said. "You will do better in
the future."
"Indeed," Balasar agreed, then rose, taking what he hoped was an
appropriate pose for an honored if somewhat junior man taking leave of
someone above his station. He must have come near the mark, because the
poet took a pose of dismissal. Balasar bowed and left. He walked hack
down the steps more slowly, weighing his options. He found Eustin in a
common room with three of his other captains. He knew that the poet's
injury had been the topic of their conversation. The sudden quiet when
he entered and the merriment in their eyes were evidence enough. He
greeted each man by name and gestured for Eustin to follow him hack out
to the street.
"Any luck, sir?"
"No," Balasar said. "He's still talking himself into a tantrum. But I
had to try. I'll need Carlsin sent to him with some ointment for the
burn. And he'll need to wear good robes. If he shows up in his usual
rags, the man will never believe he's my physician."
"I'll see he's told, sir."
They reached the gray-cobbled street, and Balasar turned back toward the
Warden's palaces and the little library with all his maps and plans.
Dustin kept pace at his side. In the far distance, there was a rumble of
thunder. Balasar cursed, and Eustin agreed.
"And the girl, sir?" Eustin asked.
Balasar nodded and blew out his breath.
""fell all the comfort houses to give Riaan whatever he asks, and send
the hills to me. I'll see them fairly paid. Warn them that I'll be
keeping account, though. I'm not opening the coffers to every tiles
player and alley worker in the Westlands."
"We have enough silver then, sir?"
"We'll have more when we've reached Nantani," Balasar said. "If the men
are a little hungry before then, that might even serve us."
A gust of wind brought the harsh blast of rain and a salting of tiny
hailstones. Other than raising his voice slightly, Balasar ignored it.
"And the girl herself will have to die," he said. "Tell her employer