“Wyant has agreed to take six of the leaders of the Jiadin to Angragar,” Clarvoy shook his head. “I fear that this time the Jiadin may actually remain loyal to your enemies.”

“He will actually take Jiadin to Angragar?” balked the Emperor. “You must follow them and find out where the lost city is.”

“I would have been one of the six,” frowned Clarvoy, “had it not been for this wound. I would have been discovered if I tried to impersonate one of the six with my arm bleeding as it was.”

“How fortuitous for the Astor?” seethed the Emperor as his eyes narrowed. “Tell me how you became wounded.”

“I was placing a spell on Wyant in his room during the night,” explained Clarvoy. “I heard a noise in the hallway and drew my knife. Within seconds the door opened wide and a Jiadin appeared. He saw me and moved more quickly than I had expected. I cast a blinding spell to destroy his vision, but his throw was most unfortunate. It struck me in the arm. I heard Wyant roll off the bed as the intruder shouted an alarm. I had no choice but to withdraw from the scene. Within minutes the entire city was awake searching for a man with a knife wound in his arm. I could not possibly stay in Meliban without detection, so I fled.”

“Extremely bad luck?” the Emperor asked suspiciously, “or is there more to it?”

“I think there is more to it,” Clarvoy hesitantly admitted. “Wyant’s room was at the end of a corridor. No Jiadin should have been there. Also, I had to maneuver carefully past peanut shells on the floor outside the marshal’s door. I assumed that Wyant had left them to alarm him, but upon reflection I realize that they were placed there by the Jiadin.”

“So the Jiadin were expecting an attack on Wyant?” questioned Vand.

“It would appear so,” nodded Clarvoy as Xavo cast the last of his healing spells, “but it is worse than that. If the Jiadin expected one of their own to assassinate the marshal, they would have posted guards outside the room.”