The Cat with Many Claws - Sword Called Kitten #2: Sword Called Kitten, #2

The Cat with Many Claws

Sword Called Kitten #2

Gordon A. Long

Published by Airborn Press at Smashwords

Copyright Gordon A. Long 2013

ISBN - 978-0-9921243-1-1

Other titles by Gordon A. Long at Smashwords:

A Sword Called…Kitten?

Why Are People So Stupid?

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Thanks

To Cas Peace for her usual fine editing work.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional (except for the cat), and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. Except for the cat.

…oh, yes. And the dog…

Don’t ask.

CONTENTS

Prologue: Creation

Letter One: Eirlin

1. A Puzzle

Letter Two: Tyrbrand

2. Business Not As Usual

Letter Three: Tyrbrand

3. The Lair of the Enemy

4. New Duties

Letter 4: Tyrbrand

5. A Swordsman Off Balance

6. Call for Help

7. Excisor

8. Civic Reception

9. Gavia Reports

10. Tyrbrand At Court

11. Conclave of Peers

12. A Lesson for Two

13. The Wild Wolf of the West

14. King Vetrorrillo da Maridon

15. A Maridon Healer?

16. Parting

17. Poison

18. Charche’s Sister

19. Declaration of War

20. Jesco's Mission

21. Rider in the Night

22. A New Patient

23. Another Forge-Cursed Magician

24. Guardians

25. Pain

26. Jesco Half-Hand

27. Cuquita's Claws

28. Battle is Joined

29. The Healer Needs Healing

30. A New Arrival

31. Bad Lady

32. The Taste of Blood

33. Cuquita’s Speech

34. Back to…Normal?

35. Atrocity

36. A Cat and a King

37. The Teacher With Many Claws

38. Kidnap

39. Ecuas, Sire of the Qued Mora Herd

40. There Are Always Speeches

41. The Final Healing

Prologue: Creation

The Magician patted the grizzled head, smoothed one tattered ear. Don’t try, boy. I know you can’t get up. He gathered the wasted body, his weakened arms shaking with the strain. Don’t worry. All the pain will soon be gone.

He shouldered aside the door to the forge and laid the dog on a blanket folded on the workbench. The crooked tail thumped a few times.Tearing his eyes away from his old friend, the Magician began his preparations. He stoked the forge high, pumping the bellows until the centre of the fire attained a clear, white glow. Satisfied, he opened the box that lay on the bench. The knife inside was tiny: the blade shorter than a child's finger, the tang a mere sliver of metal. The Magician laid out a set of long, fine tongs and a shallow metal tray. Then he began his mental preparation.

One hand caressing the dog’s head, he choked down the sorrow that threatened to break his concentration. As if in understanding, the dog sent a weak lick across his wrist. Taking this as a final gesture of acquiescence, the Magician began to move into the dog’s consciousness, blending his mind with the dim thoughts that stalked there. Then he reached out to the empty void that was the blade, forming the first tenuous bond between the two. The dog seemed to understand, the soul yearning from its pain-wracked body towards the clean new lair the Magician offered.

The dog’s consciousness circled the blade as he would a new bed, willing but uncertain. When the Magician felt that the animal’s mind was ready, he quickened his pace, smoothly performing the actions he had rehearsed to perfection. The old dog was so intent on this new experience that he scarcely noticed the nick of the fine-honed blade to his throat.

Now the Magician had to be quick and sure. He pushed his own weakness and pain aside impatiently. As the dog’s failing heart pumped blood into the pan, he used the tongs to lay the steel deep in the heat of the forge. The dog grew weaker and weaker while the blade glowed, first dull, then bright red, flaring towards white. At the same time, the Magician held the dog’s mind firmly in his grasp, directing, soothing, dulling the pain. Tears streamed unheeded as the Magician prepared for his final move.

The moment came when the dog’s heart scarcely beat, when the metal had reached a temperature it could barely withstand. The Magician pulled the blade from the heat and inserted it into the pan of blood: first the curving edge, then, more slowly, the spine, and finally the tang. He did so blindly, his mind set on easing the last of his old friend’s consciousness into the waiting sanctuary. Both subjects were in the ideal state of anticipation; the final words would seal the exchange. The Magician gathered his waning Powers and intoned the spell with careful diction.

I name you Excisor.

There was a final hesitation, and the man’s concentration was jolted by the feel of a wet tongue on his wrist. Then all resistance disappeared. The frail body in his left hand slumped, and the Blade in his right began to vibrate. There was initial puzzlement and confusion, but then a rush of joy as the old dog’s soul was fused with the shining steel. A new Being had been Forged.

The long task had begun.

From the Ceasterhof of Ostersund,

Koningsholm.

Aprelis xii

Dear Ecmund, Perica, Lord Delfontes, and of course, Kitten,

It is with some embarrassment that I write this letter. I was so pleased to be allowed to come to the Capital, and so enthusiastic about what I might accomplish here. Unfortunately, things have not turned out quite the way I expected.

I hasten to reassure you that it is not Tyrbrand’s fault. He has been endlessly supportive, and introduced me to some fascinating people. I have been able to make a certain amount of progress in my studies of Healing. However, politics smears its greasy fingers on even my simple profession; there has been resistance to my presence and the ideas I stand for.Tyrbrand tries to help, but he is caught up with his duties to the king and with his Magician's undertaking, so he does not have time to tend to a little country girl who would rather be at home.

We have decided that it would be better for me to return to Falkenby until he has finished the first stage of his task. Once that is done, he says he will need me back in Koningsholm, and perhaps the next time I will come better prepared to help him with his work.

For the moment, though, you should expect me close behind this letter. Once the decision is made, I see no reason to stay.

Except for Tyrbrand, of course, and I have resolved to be strong. If our feelings cannot endure a short separation, perhaps they are not as deep as they need to be.

In any case, thanks to the carriages of our King’s new Post service, I will soon be home.

With Love,

Eirlin Bryghtwyn

A Puzzle

The three sat in the Overlord's workroom at Falkenby, the letter on the table in front of them. There was a long silence until Kitten grew weary of it.

Four. A magic Sword of my intelligence and experience is an entity worth consideration.

The four sat in the Overlord’s workroom at Falkenby regarding the letter.

Perica stood and paced over to the window, adjusting the tall, thick shutter to direct the evening sunlight so it cut the gloom of the unadorned granite walls. She shook her head, then tossed her dark curls back into place with a graceful flick of her wrist. Ecmund, I don’t understand. Your sister is a strong, confident person. She has gone to the Capital to study Healing as she longs to do. She is with Tyrbrand, a man who definitely interests her. Why would she want to come home? Could she be homesick?

She is more than homesick.

The two young people turned to face Lord Delfontes.

I have been making some enquiries in the past month. I now know quite a bit more of the lore of the Blood than I did when I first came here.

Which was basically, Perica flicked her fingers at her father, nothing.

As that may be. I have discovered that even now, almost two hundred years after the rule of the Blood of Inderjornee was taken over by we Maridon invaders, there always remains a leader of the Blood in each demesne, to whom everyone looks for support and strength. In the case of Falkenby, the obvious family is yours, Ecmund. Just as obviously, the true leader isn’t going to be your uncle, because his personality is completely inappropriate. It won't be your cousin Jesco, because of his temper and his half-Maridon blood. That leaves you and Eirlin.

Perica’s nose wrinkled. When did you figure this out?

Her father smiled. I may not have the sensitivity that you two have, but I do boast some small experience in dealing with people. Why do you think I asked Eirlin to stay behind, that first day when the Village Council confronted me?

Ecmund grinned. The day you threw me in jail. Why didn’t you think I was the leader?

Because those were not the actions of a leader. They were what you would expect from a man of action, a fighter. So I was especially careful to see what would happen after I had you removed. What happened? Eirlin. I could tell by the faces of the Council and of my own local soldiers that she was the one they all looked to. Once Eirlin stood up they all relaxed, as if the preliminaries were over, and the real battle was now joined. They had done their parts, and they could watch from the sidelines.

Eirlin is more closely connected to this area than others, so she is homesick?

I think ‘homesick’ is a rather weak word for what she is feeling.

Well, she will be home soon.

Kitten puzzled this over. What was the problem? Eirlin will come. Then she will be happy. Ecmund and Perica will marry, and we will all be happy.

Ecmund stroked the Sword’s hilt. I wish it was as simple as you like it, Kitten.

Humans make things so complicated. You will see.

Eirlin arrived, a pale face peeking out from the darkness of the carriage, her back stooping to navigate the step. As her foot touched the packed earth of the village square, though, her shoulders straightened and she tossed her blonde braids back. It is so good to be home!

After a warm hug for her brother and a more decorous embrace for Perica, she looked around. Albercas has been working on his inn. She pointed to the brighter thatch at one end of the roof, the freshly-painted casings on two windows.

Ecmund’s anxious look turned to laughter. Trust you to notice. Now that the King's Post stops here, he’s been sprucing it up inside and out. I hope it meets your approval?

She shrugged, grinning a bit sheepishly. I’m sure the innkeeper can make up his own mind about what his premises need.

Perica shook her head. Ah, but someone has to approve. We can’t have people just running around doing whatever they want, can we?

Eirlin’s brow furrowed. I know you too well, Perica. What are you trying to say?

The smaller girl merely nodded, knowingly. You know what I mean.

A glance to her brother showed that he was not going to help.

What’s going on, Kitten?

Kitten brushed a light inquiry over the Healer’s mind. There seemed no need for concern. She would figure things out on her own. Welcome home, Eirlin. It is good to have you here.

Ecmund laughed. Kitten is learning discretion.

I have always known discretion. I merely choose to use it.

Eirlin shrugged and looked around the square again. A feeling of satisfaction welled from her. It all looks very tidy. I’m so glad to be here.

You already said that.

And I’ll be saying it again. Perica, has my brother organized a cup of tea for the thirsty traveler? If so, I make bold to ask you to join us.

He certainly has. He's training up quite nicely, you know. Soon he might even be worth marrying. She trapped his hand in both of hers before he could swat at her. And I imposed upon my cook to provide some appropriate treats, as well.

When they reached the cedar-shaked woodcutter's cottage near the edge of the village, Kitten could feel Eirlin's mood expand and lighten further, as she inspected the timbers and planks in the woodyard, commented on the size of the woodpile, noted the cleanliness of the plank floor, warmed her hands a moment at the fireplace and repeated her mantra.

Perica served tea in Eirlin's plain mugs and laid out a plate of baking.

These are very fancy, Perica. They hardly suit our rustic table.

They are appropriate to the occasion, I think. It is not often that a local leader returns to her demesne.

Eirlin laid her hands flat on the table. All right, you two. Something is going on, here, and you’re going to tell me about it.

The two exchanged glances. Perica shrugged. Father did some research into the Blood of Inderjornee. He found out about you.

Found out about me? What about me? You’re talking in riddles.

He found out about the leaders of the Blood. Everybody knows it, nobody talks about it, but you’re the head of the Blood in Falkenby. That’s why you were so unhappy in Koningsholm. You felt the pull of the land.

Eirlin looked down at her hands, still spread out on the table. Then she looked up, but her right hand made an unconscious caressing motion across the scrubbed surface. Whatever are you talking about?

Eirlin the Intelligent has just revealed a huge hole in her knowledge.

The Healer stood and reached across the table, her hand slapping down on Kitten’s hilt. That is an insult, and you had better be ready to explain yourself!

The mind of Eirlin the Exalted is powerful. Quivering in fear, I must obey.

Now you are making fun of me.

Who, little me? How would I dare?

Ecmund, will you control your Sword? Obviously she her training has lapsed in my absence.

He laughed. It’s good to have you home, Eirlin. Sit down again, and tell me about the Capital. Is it as huge a city as they say? Are the buildings all of stone instead of wood?

Eirlin began a frown, then thought better of it. Whatever you are hiding from me, it will keep. My homecoming is too happy an occasion to spoil with an argument. Tomorrow, however…

She sat again. No, Koningsholm is not as huge as they say, but it is a very large city, by anything in my limited experience. And yes, the public buildings are made of stone, as are the residences of the Overlords and rich merchants. However, most people live in wooden houses. Some are three and four stories high, but many are the same size and construction as you would see if you stepped out of our door right now. So don’t worry. There will be plenty of demand for the lumber from your new mill.

I knew you would be able to tell me!

Perica leaned forward. Enough about wood and stone. What about Tyrbrand Ostersund, the handsome Magician?

What about him?

Oh, come on, Eirlin. It was perfectly obvious you two were interested, no matter how cool you tried to seem. Perica regarded her friend closely. Obviously it didn’t work out. Should I be preparing to scratch out some pale blue eyes?

No, no, nothing like that, Perica. He is always unfailingly polite to me.

Unfailingly polite! Ecmund rested his head his hands. Death sentence. Even I know that.

Eirlin nodded. "I considered that, too. I was staying at the Ostersund ceasterhof, but I wouldn’t see him for days, and I would think that I had imagined our closeness. Then he would come and talk to me for hours: Healing, politics, magic, and we would have the most wonderful time. Then he would disappear again. He’s a very busy man, what with the king’s business and his own project.

What project?

He didn’t say, and I didn’t think it was my place to ask. It had something to do with chemicals, though, and fire.

Why do you say that?

A cold chill ran down Kitten’s blade. Chemicals and fire? What has a Magician to do with fire?

Sometimes he would come home with the most awful smells about him, and he seemed to burn himself a lot. She sent Kitten a visual image.

Oh, no!

What’s wrong, Kitten?

He’s trying to forge a Sword.

Oh, I don’t think so, love. He’s always said that he couldn’t.

Eirlin, my dear, you are a wonderful Healer and you know many things. But when you start to tell a Sword about what a Smith looks like, I think you have gone a little outside your realm of experience.

But…

If he comes home smelling of fire and hot steel, with spark burns in his hair and along his arms, he’s working in a Forge. Why else would a Magician work in a Forge? He’s trying to make a Sword.

But he always said he didn’t have the Power.

Nonetheless. He’s going to try, and he’s going to fail, and it’s my fault.

It’s not your fault, dear, and I doubt if that’s what he’s doing.

Ecmund shrugged. Maybe he’s making something else?

What else is there? I don’t think there’s much of a market for magic Teaspoons these days.

Eirlin did not rise to the bait. Whatever he’s doing, it’s taking a lot out of him, and I’m worried.

Worried about Tyrbrand?

Yes. He is thinner, and his mind is often distracted.

The making of a Sword requires all from the Smith. Sometimes more than he has.

What do you mean by that?

The making of a magic Sword is a dangerous enterprise. Not all who try are successful.

And is it a great problem if he fails?

There is only one way a Magician can fail in making a Sword. He fails when it kills him. Then the Sword goes mad and has to be destroyed.

Destroyed?

Melted back down into a puddle of iron.

Surely not.

Of course not, Eirlin. You know so much more than I do. I'm just making this all up for the fun of watching you worry.

Eirlin was on her feet again. Don’t mince words with me, you rusty piece of steel. If you know something I don’t, you will tell me now. Have I made myself clear?

Waiting is easy for a Sword. Waiting rarely does you harm, and it is very disconcerting for humans. Kitten waited.

Kitten? I am speaking to you. What do you know that I don’t?

Definitely in love.

What?

What do you think, Perica?"

Oh, most definitely. The Maridon girl grinned. Ears and eyeballs.

Ears and what? What does that mean?

Perica shrugged. It’s just an expression. You know what it means, because that’s you. Ears and eyeballs in love.

Eirlin looked from one to the other. A good try, but it didn’t work. Kitten knows something, some danger to Tyrbrand, and she is going to tell me, if she knows what’s good for her.

Healers are such kind, gentle people.

Healers sometimes have to cut to cure, and don’t you forget it.

Oh. Then it clicked in Kitten’s mind. So that’s it! Wonderful!

What? What’s wonderful? Is this another attempt to distract me?

No, Eirlin, it is not. I have just figured out what Tyrbrand is doing, and I feel a whole lot better.

Well, what is he doing?

If he didn’t tell you, he has good reason.

And now you’re going to tell me.

Me, go against the Magician’s wishes? Not in your lifetime. Not in several human lifetimes. Never, even in my lifetime. Not even when facing the ire of Eirlin the Terrible.

Kitten…

What are you going to do to me? Burn me? Break me over your knee? Throw me into a swamp?"

Ecmund laughed out loud. Sister, I think you have a little bit of learning to do about magic Swords. She isn’t one of the local townsfolk you can bully into doing what you want.

I don’t bully anyone. What a horrible thing to say!

You don’t bully because you don’t have to. All of us do as you tell us. Kitten doesn’t, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

But if Tyrbrand is in danger…

He isn’t. I was wrong. He has every chance of success.

But…

Ecmund laid his hand on Kitten’s hilt. And for the moment, that is all there is to the story.

His sister looked at him. There is something different about you.

He grinned. Never should have left me on my own. Getting ideas of independence.

She smiled as well, and laid a hand on his arm. No, I never should have left. But I’m back now, at least for a while.

Is that a threat?

Take it as you wish. And Kitten?

Yes, Eirlin?

If you think of anything more about Tyrbrand, you will tell me, won’t you?

And I will try not to be too smug about it.

The Healer looked at her friends. I am always interested to see how her sense of humour has progressed. Usually I don’t like what develops.

Perica grinned and laid her hand over Ecmund’s. We are all changing, Eirlin. Let us hope it is for the better. She stood up.

Come, Ecmund. It's time you escorted me home. She turned to the Healer. Father would like to speak with you. Come up to the castle tomorrow afternoon, if you like. We can have tea and some talk.

Ostersund Ceasterhof,

Koningsholm.

Aprelis xix

My Dear Eirlin,

I am successful! The project I have been working on, which kept me from being a proper host to you, has concluded, at least the first stage. There is much more to do, but I am so pleased that I was able to complete the crucial opening steps.

Soon I will need you to come and make your most important contribution. I will let you know in plenty of time when I need you.

I have regretted the secrecy that kept me from telling you more, and many times I have questioned whether it was necessary. It will be so good to finally tell you all about my task, to be able to discuss it with you and receive your ideas.It will also, of course, be wonderful to have you back here again. I found those brief times we spent together to be such a balm against the strain of my toil, and I look forward to more of the same pleasure soon.

Yours,

Tyrbrand

Business Not As Usual

Eirlin placed Perica's delicate china cup gently on the ornate tea table, smiled at her hostess in thanks, and turned to the Overlord. There is more news that we should talk about, Lord Delfontes.

He leaned back in his chair, smoothing his short, dark beard. Yes, Eirlin?

My Post carriage was stopped twice on the way from Koningsholm.

His eyes narrowed. Explain, ‘stopped,’ please.

In each case a band of riders in the livery of an Overlord waylaid the carriage and forced it to stop. Not that it was difficult. The driver didn't seem surprised. The riders required all the passengers to get down. They questioned each person, then allowed us to get back in and sent us on our way.

Perica frowned. They can’t do that. You were riding in a public carriage that carries the King’s Post. Where did they get the right to stop you?

Lord Delfontes raised a cautioning hand. Did they say anything that would indicate why they had stopped you?

The second time, one of the men in the carriage was quite indignant. He asked the leader what right he had to stop the King’s Post. The leader responded politely but firmly that we were on Lord d’Angelo’s land, and any Overlord had the right to know who was passing across his demesne. The indignant passenger calmed down immediately. He nodded, even smiled a little, and didn’t say anything more.

Delfontes nodded as well. And that passenger was Maridon, was he not?

He had dark skin and hair.

Perica frowned. How did you know that, Father?

The Overlord’s face was grim. "You know that we Maridon families have always kept to our original alliances, even though we've been here two hundred years. It makes it difficult for the king, I'm sure, ruling what must seem like two separate realms in one.

Now it looks as if certain of the Maridon lords are pushing their boundaries, testing the king’s resolve. While stopping the King’s Post may seem a crime, no one has ever actually laid down what an Overlord may or may not do on his own land. The expansion of the Post route out to Falkenby meant that the king was extending his influence across new territories. Now they are pushing back.

What can they want?

Her father shrugged. Who knows? But I’m afraid we’re about to find out.

How?

He lifted a letter from his writing table. This came by messenger yesterday. I have been invited to a ‘meeting of like minds,’ whatever that is. Now I can guess.

You think the ‘like minds’ will all be Maridon?

Delfontes turned to Eirlin. Was there any indication that the soldiers were singling out 'Jornese, or those of the Blood?

The second group, from Lord Coelric, seemed to question the blond people more thoroughly. Except me.

Ecmund grinned. I am the wind in the trees?

She nodded. I have learned something from Kitten. I just sort of faded, thinking as if I was not important, and they seemed not to notice me.

Perica turned to her friend. You mean you can cloud men’s minds and make yourself invisible?

Eirlin laughed. Nothing that dramatic. I can make myself less important, that’s all.

The Maridon girl looked up. You are the tallest woman I know, your hair is bright blond, and you can make yourself seem less important? That’s an accomplishment in itself.

The Healer’s training progresses.

Eirlin turned to the Overlord. That’s all I noticed. I believe they were paying more attention to the Inderjorneese, and were more polite to the Maridons.

What do you think they are after, Father?

We will soon find out. My best guess is that they want to get together to support each other, to influence the king on some policy or other.

I see. There is nothing unusual in that, is there?

No. But combined with the stopping of the carriages, this sounds more serious than usual.

You aren’t thinking of a rebellion?

Delfontes shook his head. No, I see no evidence of that kind of unrest. Of course, I have been rather busy with my own problems. Anything could have happened in the Capital. Eirlin, you have been there most recently.

Eirlin smiled ruefully. I’m afraid my attention was caught up in my own little affairs, my Lord. I didn’t notice much else.

But your affairs may be more important than you think. What was the political trouble you ran into in the infirmary?

Oh, that. I think it was more of a professional disagreement.

Please explain.

There is a division in the staff of the infirmary on methods of diagnosis. Some wish to use Powers such as mine more often; the others wish to use the traditional methods of physical evidence.

Traditional Maridon methods?

Yes, I suppose so.

So you have a division in the infirmary, on Maridon/'Jornese lines.

Eirlin looked at the Overlord in surprise. You could see it that way.

I’m afraid, given the general climate of the realm, we must.

Eirlin frowned. That’s horrible! A Healer must never put politics ahead of the good of her patient.

Lord Delfontes regarded her with raised eyebrows.

Finally she sighed. I suppose you’re right. It just bothers me, that’s all.

He smiled. But your information is useful to us.

Perica leaned forward, her face animated. Right. There has always been a certain amount of tension between the 'Jornese and their Maridon conquerors. It should be getting better as time passes, but maybe it's not. Now there seems to be a cadre of Maridon nobility who are pushing for something. Probably more power. It always comes to that in the long run.

Delfontes glanced around the group. It seems that no one disagrees.

So, Father, what are you going to tell them at this meeting?

I don’t know. It depends on what they ask.

Perica tossed her head. I don’t think it’s much of a mystery. You have a group looking for more power. They gather together everyone who might support them. They present their case, they dangle their bait, and ask for a pledge of support. If you don’t support them, then you’re lucky to make it home alive.

A trifle melodramatic, dear, but accurate, nonetheless.

So what are you going to tell them, Father?

The Overlord rubbed his cheek. That’s a tough question, Perica. If I turn them down flat, what will they do? I don’t think they will be assassinating people on their way home, but I’m equally sure some action will be taken against us. In spite of our recent success, you and I are not secure enough here to withstand serious trouble.

Ecmund cleared his throat, but did not speak.

Delfontes smiled at him. What is it, Ecmund? I wouldn’t have expected you to be shy.

I hesitate to disagree, my Lord, but I suspect you may have understated the gravity of the situation.

In what way?

Ecmund compressed his lips a moment, thinking. I get a feeling, and I don’t know whether it’s just me or if Kitten is adding to it, that there is a new level of tension between the Maridons and the Inderjorneese. Not just a few lords and their men. All of us.I show you what I see.

Do you have any specific evidence?

That’s the problem. I don’t. It’s just a general feeling that any Maridons I meet are edgier, more concerned with their rights and privileges. Perica, what did you make of that incident in the Inn yesterday?

I had considered it just another bothersome traveler from Koningsholm who needed a reminder that being from the Capital wasn’t the ticket to getting his own way all the time. If I set the incident beside this conversation, he could have been an agent, testing the waters.

Delfontes leaned forward. What happened?

I’m not sure of the details, my Lord. Rumour went around that some Maridon stayed in the inn and made a big fuss yesterday morning when he went to pay his bill, because of the service or the room, or something. Innkeepers get that sort regularly. It’s a part of their business, I always thought. However, in the light of this development…

Right. Next time you might find out more, now that we know what to look for and what questions to ask.

I will do that, my Lord.

The next question, Father, is who you take with you to this meeting.

The Overlord mused a moment. There are few useful candidates. I can’t take Ecmund, obviously. There’s no point in having any more than my usual retainers. I would be outnumbered anyway. I would appreciate Kitten’s help, though.