In the morning, Jahldorani appeared at Thaeto’s door to announce that my lean measure of rest was over. Jahldorani, who was last seen leaping naked out of bed, having been interrupted in his love-making by myself and Maetahtild of the House of Song. As I greeted him, it seemed as if that had happened a very long time before. But it had been only six days.

  I was still in my sleeping robes, which were loose and gray and not very modest. I was eating breakfast in the solarium, and my youngest granddaughter, little Alstri, was sitting in my lap. I was feeding her slices of plum, and she was playing with my beard. My hammock hung in the corner of the room, beckoning. But even before Jahldorani arrived, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to collapse into it. I needed to relieve Vaenahma and, if Martiveht was healthy, return her and the princess to the palace. And I needed to see if I could salvage what was left of my guard, even though I probably wouldn’t remain their captain for long. Most likely, the Sasturi would heal Slaedrin, and he’d look around for a scapegoat and lay all of his troubles on me. I would make a very good scapegoat. My own troops had betrayed me.

  I wasn’t very happy as I ate breakfast, although little Alstri was a solace. And, strangely, the house itself wasn’t very happy. There was something angry and begrudging in Grandahlae’s behavior towards Thaeto. My daughter-in-law is not the easiest person. She looks like a plump and joyous matron, and it is true that she takes inordinate delight in making a perfect plum cake or steamed bun. The house is old and shambling in a friendly way, like a big dog, and Grandahlae enjoys it, complaining about a broken shutter or an infestation of mice with a little smile on her lips. She treats the house like it’s a rapscallion, as entertaining as it is frustrating. Yet Grandahlae is easily hurt, easily offended. And it was clear that Thaeto had offended her. She had set down his morning potage with a stiff, angry gesture, and he had been afraid to meet her eyes.

  When Jahldorani arrived, I looked up at him and wondered why the world had decided to add to my plague of worries, but I wasn’t surprised. The trick, I thought, would be to find some center of inner peace. To be able to live through this time of chaos and danger and still be able to sleep deeply at night, and appreciate those moments of pause between one disaster and another.

  “Captain,” I said, eyeing his disheveled clothes and a cut on his forehead.

  “Captain,” he said, and then stood, flexing his hands and shuffling from foot to foot like a nervous child. He saw me looking at his robes and attempted to straighten them. “I apologize for my appearance. I haven’t slept. I’ve been guarding the House of Song.”

  “The House of Song? That’s not in Ilahntae District.”

  “No, Captain.”

  “Then why are you guarding it?”

  “Captain Obinrii is dead. She was killed in the fighting.”

  That was a blow. Captain Obinrii had been a just and competent woman. What’s more, Thaeto’s house, the house I was sitting in, is in Tarahnvae District, and Obinrii had been Captain of the Tarahnvae District Guard. “Who else is still alive? Which of the other captains?” I asked, a little too crisply.

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  “Baepohrik is missing. Gaetisma and Ohlupeeva are still at their posts.”

  “Gaetisma,” I said with disappointment, and Jahldorani’s face mimicked my expression. “If Obinrii is dead, who is Tarahnvae District captain?”

  Jahldorani’s scowl deepened. “The White Cats.” He gave Alstri a worried glance, and I lifted her from my lap and set her down on the floor.

  “Go and play,” I told her. She pouted but flounced away.

  As soon as she was gone, Jahldorani flung himself down on his knees before me. It was such an extravagant gesture that I didn’t know what to do. I stood up, then sat down again. We faced each other, both of us embarrassed.

  “Captain,” Jahldorani said, and there were tears in his eyes, “Uesayna’s father is a White Cat. Now that he’s back in the city, he’s at the House of Song every night, demanding that they send out his wife and daughter. They won’t let him in.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. Of course. I have told you, I believe, about the House of Song. How it was a community of women who had fled the violence of men, and who lived in a kind of sisterhood, singing their odd songs and keeping a household together. But all of their horrible husbands and lovers had to reside somewhere, and many of them could be found among the bandits of the Singing Woods.

  “So you’ve been guarding them,” I said.

  “I, and some others.”

  I tensed. “Which others?”

  His expression of tearful embarrassment deepened. “Your sons have both been there.”

  Which explained Grandahlae’s distress. And why Nolio hadn’t been at breakfast that morning, and Thaeto had been so silent and had left so abruptly. “And you and my sons have kept the White Cats at bay?” I asked. My voice sounded rough and tight. While wandering through the woods and kicking my heels in Nhadtereyba, I had thought of my home as a place of safety. I only needed to return to it, and I could rest. But the distress of the kingdom was seeping in everywhere. How could it not? The kingdom was like a great wounded animal, and every part of its body felt the injury.

  “You haven’t brought your troops into Tarahnvae District?” I asked.

  He looked at the floor. “It wouldn’t seem right. There are many rough men staying in Ilahntae District. They came for the corvee. Some of them were part of the insurrection.” He raised his face and looked at me with an expression of mystified betrayal. “I think that some of them were bandits. Members of the Deadfalls. We’ve been trying to hunt them, to root them out, but we haven’t gotten all of them.”

  “How have you been doing that if you’ve been at the House of Song?”

  Again his gaze dropped to the floor. He was still kneeling, and it was ridiculous. But I couldn’t make him rise without seeming even more lordly than I already did. And me in my night robes. “Bahstobibi has been commanding. Captain, I tried to step down, but he wouldn’t let me. He told me that he would stand the watch, and he gave me leave to go. I told him that he didn’t have any authority to give me leave and he just shrugged and said, ‘Who does, then?’”

  My heart filled at that. Bahstobibi was a good lieutenant. I thought of Vaenahma, my own lieutenant, and I stood up. “Eat some breakfast,” I told Jahldorani. “I’m going to dress. Then we must go to the Weaving Guild, and to the palace. After that, we will attend to the House of Song.”