Tobias would never get used to this, reporting to the Queen directly. Thankfully, the throne room was not that crowded. Other than the Queen herself and Sir Cyrano her bodyguard behind her, there was Lord Bannon and Lord Morten, about a dozen courtiers, and eight Palace Guards lining the way to the throne.

The Queen was a daunting figure, a rare sort of woman who could sit on the King's throne and look like she belonged there. Often severe and unbending, she was honestly more frightening when her mood was light, when she seemed like a spider luring you into her web. She had many suitors and paramours over the years, it was said, but she never took a husband. It did not appear that she would yield the reins of power to any man, regardless of what it would mean for the future of the kingdom. Perhaps she was not so different from her father the Mad King and perhaps it was time for the old dynasty to end, but woe betide the poor fool who dared to say as much.

Tobias approached the throne and knelt before it, saying, "Long live the Queen. May she reign a thousand years."

It was customary to invoke Baal's blessings upon the ruling monarch as well, but neither the Yehudim nor the Yeshuim would call on the name of another god but their own. There were times when this had become a bone of contention, but every time it had, the unrest it caused proved more costly than it was worth, and so temporal fealty to the Crown was deemed sufficient in the interest of maintaining order in the kingdom.

If Tobias were a sensible man, he would take the praise he had been given, let himself be dismissed and put the entire incident behind him. However, he had been troubled the entire way back to the castle. Common sense would dictate that he hold his tongue and keep his troubles to himself, but he could not help but speak up.

Surely he did not see the Witch that way. Embarrassed, he replied, "No, my queen. It is just that I... have misgivings about all this. Something... is not quite right."

Sir Cyrano rarely spoke, but when he did, it would be in defense of the Queen.

The Queen nodded to Lord Bannon, who said, "Then you are dismissed, Commander. Wait for me in my chambers. I will hear your full report shortly."

Tobias bowed his head, then rose up and walked out of the throne room. He was already regretting his words. Surely he would not merely be giving report later.

For some reason, Tobias did not simply apologize for his foolishness and beg pardon.

Tobias did not have an answer. He remembered that he only narrowly avoided death himself. Still, it was the men of the Black Guard who attacked first. Would the Witch have been as dangerous if she were not defending herself?

Though Lord Bannon was often severe, he was not without his gentler moments. Drawing back the reproach in his voice, he told Tobias, "You are too kind-hearted, my boy. Remember that you are charged with executing the Queen's orders without question or hesitation. Had it been these... misgivings of yours that resulted in the deaths of my men, you can be certain that I would have more than a scolding word for you."

Being unusually accommodating, Lord Bannon said, "She is being held in the goal outside Hanno while we decide what to do with her next."

As Tobias was leaving Lord Bannon's chambers, a voice said, "You are but decoration, boy. You would do well to remember that."

It was Jibril, the Captain-General of the Black Guard, who like Sir Cyrano was never far from his master. Some called him 'Jibril the Djinn' for his skill in the arcane arts. Simply standing in his presence was enough to make you feel some dark presence seeping into your bones. As unsettling as all the other men of the Black Guard were, he was the worst of the lot. Tobias wanted to avoid a confrontation with him.

Only Jibril was not done with him.

Tobias gave him a nod to acknowledge that he heard what was said, and that was about all the more the Commander-General could stand being around him. It would seem Jibril knew more about what was going on, but Tobias could not hope to get anything more out of him, not that he even wanted to try. He silently took his leave and went on his way, but the ill feeling would not go away anytime soon.

On the other side of the river was the city of Hanno. That was where the Witch was being held, in the gaol on the outskirts of the city. He should have put her out of his mind, but try as he might, he could not forget the way she looked at him. She could not possibly be the threat to the kingdom she was made out to be, of this he was certain, even as a skeptical voice in his head reminded him of what happened to the three men of the Black Guard, and what nearly happened to him as well.

Perhaps he had had too much wine. He was usually very careful to limit his drinking, avoiding more potent spirits and never drinking to the point of drunkenness. It would be easy to blame the wine for what he decided to do next.

He dragged out a chest that had been tucked away in a corner and opened it to reveal his old armor, what had given to him when he was first sworn a knight. The design was much the same as the gilded suit he wore as Commander-General, but the helmet had a crest of white horsehair instead of scarlet and a simple brown cloak to mark his junior rank in the order. Though it had not been molded as precisely to his body as the new armor, he nevertheless felt more comfortable wearing it, perhaps because it was part of the trappings of the rank he had earned rather than the one that was thrust upon him.

Normally, a knight would have his pages kit him out, but no self-respecting knight was incapable of doing the task himself. He girded the skirt about his waist, put on the cuirass, buckled the greaves and vambraces, then strapped the pauldrons in place. It was only as he was fastening his swordbelt did he hear a young voice say, "My lord? What are you doing?"

Tobias had to credit his training for not jumping out of his skin. It was Tisus, his page. Tobias though he had dismissed him for the day, but there he was.

Thinking quickly—more quickly than he would have imagined, especially when he thought his head was light from wine—, he said, "You... surely you know the tales of good King Hamilcar VI. He would disguise himself as a peasant and walk among his subjects to see the true face of the kingdom. 'I cannot see by the glint of gold,' he would say."

What happened to the days when a child would take an adult at his word?

Tobias nodded to the stand where his armor was mounted and said, "There it is if you want to check it. Remember to lock up after you're done."

So much for his plan to leave without drawing any attention to himself, but surely he did not have anything to worry about with his own page.

He was fitting his horse with plain barding rather than the gold and scarlet of the Commander-General. While he was doing this, he felt someone approach him from behind.

Tobias recognized that voice.

Tobias turned to see his kinsman Yoel ben Yehoiakim, a banneret in the Dragoons.

If it became known what he meant to do, and all the more so if he succeeded, that may well be exactly what would happen.

Laughing uncomfortably, Tobias said, "No. I just wanted to do some traveling without drawing much attention to myself. You know how the sight of gold blinds men's eyes."

Tobias found himself hesitating. Yoel was like a brother to him, one of the few he felt he could truly trust, very nearly the only one not consumed with envy when he was named Commander-General.

Yoel spat on the ground.

Yoel grinned.

The two men embraced and Tobias finished readying his horse, leading it to the docks where he would catch the next ferry to the northern bank of the river. He could scarcely turn back now, no matter what it might mean for him.