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Alucius.
    “The
colonel let that drop some time back. He said that the current Lord-Protector
had more sense than his younger siblings, but all were to be watched.”
    “Clyon’s
a good man, but he’s getting along,” Royalt said.
    Alucius
nodded. “Majer Weslyn is doing more and more.”
    “You
think he’s a good man?”
    “Majer
Weslyn? He does what the colonel wants, but…”
    “He’s
not as strong?” asked Wendra. “Or he’ll do what the Council wants if anything
happens to Clyon?”
    “I
worry about that,” Alucius admitted. “The head of the Iron Valley Militia has
to be able to stand up to the Council. Clyon does.”
    “It’s
too bad you can’t be colonel,” Wendra said.
    Alucius
laughed gently. “I’m too young. I’m the youngest captain in the entire
militia.”
    “And
you’ve seen more than any of them,” Wendra said staunchly.
    “It
doesn’t work that way. Besides, I’d rather be a herder.”
    The
faintest frown crossed Royalt’s forehead, an expression—accompanied by a
feeling of worry that Alucius could not ignore.
    Wendra
glanced from her husband to his grandsire, but she didn’t speak.
    “What
else did Kustyl say?” asked Alucius.
    “The
Council borrowed over six thousand golds from the Landarch of Deforya during
the fight against the Matrial. They didn’t want to raise tariffs, but they
haven’t been able to pay the interest, either, and they can’t pay even that
back without raising tariffs. After four years, the back interest is almost
another three thousand golds. Kustyl said he’d heard that the Lord-Protector
has bought the note from the Landarch. The Landarch had to sell it because he’s
got troubles of his own. The Lord-Protector has raised the interest on the note
because the Council hasn’t made the payments. Some say he’s even sending an
envoy from Tempre. There’s a faction in the traders that wants to accept being
a province of Lanachrona, rather than come up with a fifty percent increase in
tariffs.”
    “That
much?” marveled Alucius.
    “They’d
do that?” blurted Wendra.
    “Aye…some
would,” Royalt replied.
    “They’re
like Gortal,” Lucenda added. “So long as they can turn a gold, it matters not
what happens to others.”
    “What
do you think will happen now?” Alucius looked to his grandsire.
    “That…I
don’t know. You’ve seen Madrien, and so far what you thought would happen there
has. The Matrites can still protect themselves, and that leaves us, Deforya,
and the grass nomads as the places where the Lord-Protector might wish to
expand Lanachrona. He already has Southgate. I can’t see him spreading the
Southern Guard across the Lost Highway and a thousand vingts of grassland.”
    “Deforya
or us, then,” Lucenda concluded.
    “Or
both,” suggested Alucius. “In time, anyway.”
    Royalt
shook his head slowly. “It’s not as though we could do anything now—or that
anyone’s going to ask us. We’re only herders.” He smiled at his daughter. “You
said there was some pie?”
    Alucius
was staggered at the thought that the Council might surrender the independence
of the Iron Valleys over such a debt, enormous though it was. Staggered by the
revelation, but not surprised by the Council’s actions…or lack of forethought.

3
    A lucius
woke in the darkness, knowing that he had to rise. His winter’s-end
furlough was over, and he had to report back to the outpost at Emal. The ten
days of the last week had flown by all too quickly, and now he had a three-day
ride ahead of him; he had to leave a day earlier than his men and squad leaders
would so that he would be there as they reported.
    “I
wish you could stay longer,” Wendra whispered, snuggling against him.
    “So
do I.”
    For
a time, Wendra clung to him before he kissed her and said, “It’s a long ride.”
    “I
know.”
    Alucius
eased out from under the heavy quilts and headed from what had been the guest
bedroom across the back corridor to the washroom. The