“We’ll have to try again another time, when we’re thinking straighter,” Radnal told Moblay, who nodded ruefully. Radnal put away the war board and pieces. By then, Moblay was the only tourist left in the common room. Radnal sat down next to Liem vez Steries, not across the gaming table from the Lissonese. Moblay refused to take the hint. Finally Radnal grabbed the rhinoceros by the horn: “Forgive me, freeman, but we have a lot to discuss among ourselves.”

“Don’t mind me,” Moblay said cheerfully. “I’m not in your way, I hope. And I’d be interested to hear how you Tarteshans investigate. Maybe I can bring something useful back to my prince.”

Radnal exhaled through his nose. Biting off words one by one, he said, “Freeman vez Sopsirk, you are a subject of this investigation. To be blunt, we have matters to discuss which you shouldn’t hear.”

“We also have other, weightier, things to discuss,” Peggol vez Menk put in. “Remember, freeman, this is not your principality.”

“It never occurred to me that you might fear I was guilty,” Moblay said. “I know I’m not, so I assumed you did, too. Maybe I’ll try and screw the Krepalgan girls, since it doesn’t sound like Radnal will be using them tonight.”

Peggol raised an eyebrow. “Them?” He packed a world of question into one word.

Under their coat of down, Radnal’s ears went hot. Fortunately, he managed to answer a question with a question:

“What could be weightier than learning who killed Dokhnor of Kellef?”

Peggol glanced from one sleeping cubicle to the next, as if wondering who was feigning slumber. “Why don’t you walk with me in the cool night air? Subleader vez Steries can come with us; he was here all day, and can tell you what he saw himself — things I heard when I took my own evening walk, and which I might garble in reporting them to you.”