Ethelhelm the singer and drummer wasn’t in his flat when Ealstancame to call. The doorman for the building said, “The gentleman has taken hisband on tour, sir. He did give me an envelope to give you if you returned whilehe and his colleagues were away.”

“Thanks,” Ealstan said, and then had to hand the fellow a coin fordoing what he should have done for nothing. Ealstan took the envelope and wentoff before opening it; whatever it held, he didn’t want the doorman knowing it.

Hello, thenote read.

I’m hoping you’ve come down with something. If you haven’t, theAlgar-vians have probably come down on you and your lady. You can get over theone easier than the other, I think, the way things are these days. If you ‘rereading this, everything is probably all right. If you ‘re not, then I wish youwere. Take care of yourself.

The band leader had scrawled his name below the last sentence.

Ealstan smiled as he refolded the note and put it in his beltpouch. Ethel-helm enjoyed speaking in riddles and paradoxes. And Ealstan couldhardly find fault with this one. Better to have any natural sickness than tolet the Algarvians know he was harboring Vanai.

That point got driven home when he came back to his own sorrylittle street. A couple of overage, overweight Algarvian constables werestanding in front of the block of flats next to his. One of them turned to himand asked, “You knowing any Kaunian bitch living in this street here?”

“No, sir,” Ealstan answered. “I don’t think any of the stinkingblonds are left in this part of town.” He did his best to sound like anordinary Forthwegian, a Forthwegian who hated Kaunians as much as King Mezentio’smen did.

The other Algarvian spoke in his own language: “Oh, leave italone, by the powers above. So we didn’t get to have her. The world won’t end.She paid us off.”