"How do you see it, Captain?" Sledge Jasper asked Vansen as they seated themselves at the table. "Do they speak our tongue, or is it all barble-barble except for that silver-haired baggage?"

"She is not a 'baggage,' Jasper, she is a high-ranking adviser to Lady Yasammez and a powerful figure in her own right."

The bald Funderling gave him a doubting look. "As you say, Captain. I'm just asking if they speak properly or not."

Vansen thought about Gyir's voice, something he had never heard with his ears, but which he would never forget. "They have many ways of talking. I do not think they will have any trouble making their wishes known…"

"Oh, shite and slurry!" said Jasper loudly.

Vansen was taken aback-for a moment he thought that the little man was calling him a liar. Then he saw what Jasper had seen-half a dozen Funderling women, led by Cinnabar's wife and Chert's wife Opal, making their determined way across the chapel.

"Hold now." Jasper was on his feet, as though he would bodily keep the women from the table. "What are you doing here? The Qar are coming!"

"Sit down, Wardthane Jasper." Vermilion Cinnabar was a handsome Funderling woman, dressed in a beautifully embroidered blue-green travel robe. "We have just as much right to be here as you and your warders."

"I beg your pardon, Magistrix," said the wealthy Funderling Malachite Copper, who had quickly made himself invaluable to the struggle. "Of course your advice is welcome, but only a few days ago these Qar were trying to kill us…"

"That is neither here nor there, is it?" The magister's wife directed her companions to seats on either side of her. Unlike Vermilion Cinnabar and Opal Blue Quartz, the other women looked a bit awed to be in such a place at such a time-but then again, Vansen thought, so did the men.