Jin Li Tam looked around the tent to be sure no one listened. “Sethbert wants you to tell him what you saw,” she said in a low voice. “He wants to hear how Windwir fell, but not for any noble purpose. Do you understand?”

The boy’s face said he didn’t, but he nodded.

“Your story is what you are worth to him. As long as he thinks you are willing to tell it, he will keep you alive and well cared for.” Jin Li Tam reached a hand across the table to cover the boy’s hand. “If he thinks you cannot or will not tell it, he will discard you. Living or dead, I do not know, but he is not a kind man.” She squeezed his hand. “He is a dangerous man.”

She stood up and whistled for a servant.

A heavyset woman appeared in the doorway of the tent. “Yes, Lady?”

“A guest should not be sat to table in his own filth. Clean this boy up and find him fresh clothing.”

“I offered him bathing water, Lady, but he declined.”

Jin Li Tam let the anger edge her voice. “Surely you have children?”

“Yes, Lady. Three.”

She willed her words to soften. “Then you know how to bathe a child.”

“I do, Lady.”

Jin Li Tam nodded once, curtly. “This boy has seen more darkness and despair than any have seen since the Age of Laughing Madness. Be kind to him, and pray that you never see what he has seen.”

Then Jin Li Tam left the tent, knowing she could wait no longer. She’d put it off the last two days, uncertain of the best route. But now she knew there was no chance of her staying. There were coops of message birds scattered throughout the camp. She would find a bird that would not be missed for at least another day. She would fling it at the sky with her simple message, tied with the black thread of danger:

ight="0em" width="1em" align="justify"›Windwir lies in ruin. Sethbert has betrayed us all.