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never actually kept anything he took, but the Araluens didn’t, and things could get nasty before he had a chance to explain. Jesper’s skills were incredibly useful when it came to breaking in to slave markets and dungeons. They weren’t so desirable in the richly decorated halls of an ally.
    There was a bustle of movement from the side of the room and Lord Anthony appeared, followed by a group of people who were, from their attire, castle servants. They carried bundles of linen and clean towels.
    â€œWelcome once more,” he said as he crossed the marble floor to meet them. The servants moved with him, staying several paces back in strict formation. “The King is ready to receive you”—he nodded to Hal—“and your senior officers. The servants here will show the rest of your men to their rooms.”
    â€œAnd the lady,” Hal said, inclining his head toward Lydia.
    Lord Anthony nodded apologetically. “And the lady, of course. Naturally, she’ll have a room to herself.”
    He consulted a list he was carrying and clicked his fingers at the servants.
    â€œRight, let’s get these guests settled.” He glanced at Ingvar and frowned, turning to one of the men servants. “We may need a larger bed for . . .” He consulted the list again. “Ingvar, I assume?” He added the last two words as a question to Ingvar, who nodded.
    â€œThat’s me.”
    â€œHmmm,” said Anthony, frowning at the list in his hands. “Didn’t realize you were quite so tall. Never mind, we’ll tend to it, won’t we, Arthur?” This last was addressed to the balding servant.
    â€œOf course, my lord,” the man named Arthur replied gravely.
    Watching proceedings, Hal realized that Gilan must have provided the Chamberlain with a list of the crew’s names and brief descriptions of each of them. It also struck him that, Castle Araluen being the national capital, Anthony and the servants must be kept busy providing for foreign guests with a wide range of requirements and in a wide range of sizes and shapes.
    He realized that Anthony was hesitating, waiting for Hal to nominate who should accompany him to meet the King. “Stig, Thorn, you come with me,” he said.
    Anthony nodded briskly, proving that Hal’s supposition was correct, and ushered the rest of the crew, and the attendant servants, toward a curving staircase on the eastern side of the room.
    Hal turned to Gilan and Crowley, and jerked a thumb in the direction of his disappearing crew. “I assume we’ll see them again?”
    Crowley nodded easily. “Anthony hasn’t lost a guest in nearly a week now,” he said, his eyes alive with a sense of mischief. He made a bowing motion and gestured toward a matching staircase on the western side. “Shall we go?”
    The five of them strode across the tiled floor of the hall. The Skandians’ sealskin boots made virtually no noise on the hard surface and Hal noticed that the Rangers also wore soft-soled shoes. There was the barest whisper of footsteps to mark their passage. The stairs were stone, and the risers were well worn, with a slight dip in the center of each where most of the traffic passed.
    â€œThe King’s apartments and offices are on the third floor,” Crowley told them as they strode up the curving flight of stairs to a landing. “Your quarters are on the fifth floor.”
    â€œSounds cozy,” Thorn said, although Crowley’s statement hadn’t called for any comment.
    They crossed the landing and took another flight of stairs to the next floor. This flight wasn’t as ornate as the first. The stairs were narrower as well. Hal noted that the stairs ascended spiraling to the right, as was the custom. A defender on the stairs would only have to expose his right arm and shoulder to someone coming from below. Whereas an attacker would need to expose his entire body