Chapter 12 · Chapter 12

The escort was a man from the council's own household, sent along to sit in the corner of the room with his hands folded and count what was said, so that the count could be carried back and laid on the table with the rest of the papers.

He had been in the corner since the coffee came. He had not been offered a cup. Nobody offers a man a cup when he is the count.

Talal set his Finjan down and said one word, level, without turning his head.

"Kalas."

The escort stood up. He did not ask what was finished. That is the thing about a phrase spoken in a house like this one: it does not need to name the object, because everyone in the room already knows which thing was standing there waiting to be ended.

He put his hands at his sides, he bowed slightly toward the middle of the room, and he went out through the far door, and the far door came to behind him with the small click that a good door makes when it is not being slammed.

Nobody spoke into the space he left.