Lutran opened his mouth to say more, then thought better of it. His hands fluttered in a disconcerted farewell, and he left the room, pulling the tatters of his dignity behind him.

“Now, Commander Durne,” Lord Bight went on. He stood up, pulled a rolled map from a pile on his table, and flattened it. The commander and his aide, Dewald, moved close to see it. The three men bent over the parchment while Linsha and the guard quietly waited at attention.

“Latest reports tell us the sailor from the Whydah is still missing. It could be that he is too ill to move or is already dead. The first mate died this afternoon.” Lord Bight stabbed a finger at a place on the parchment. “There is a warehouse here, not far from the southern pier, that is nearly empty at the moment. I want it totally emptied. My authority. We will make a hospital out it, and the entire crew of the Whydah is to be placed there, as well as any man, woman, or child who shows the slightest symptom of this disease. I want them placed in total quarantine. The healers from the temple have already offered to help. We will need supplies, water, blankets, whatever medicines the healers need, and guards. No one will go in or out without the healers’ agreement and permission from the officer of the watch.

“Next, I want all the bodies of the dead placed on the Whydah. Tow the ship out into the bay and burn it as well. If the captain argues, charge him with malicious conduct.”

“What about the harbormaster? His family is making plans for his burial,” Commander Durne pointed out.

A fleeting glimpse of sadness crossed Hogan Bight’s face. “His body will have to be burned, too. We cannot let this sickness get out of control.”

With a startling change of subject, the governor looked past the two officers and said, “Morgan, what took you so long? I sent you after her hours ago.”

Linsha lifted her eyebrows, wondering if she should say something, but the guard beside her replied, “She was on patrol, Your Excellency, in search of the sailor.”

“I see.” Lord Bight came around from behind the table and stood in front of Linsha. His eyes sized her up carefully, from dusty boots to sweat-damp hair. “Do you still wish to serve my government?”

Linsha tilted her chin and unconsciously stood a little straighter. So the Clandestine Circle was right. But what did he have in mind? She met his gaze with a level stare of her own and answered, “Of course, Lord Governor.”

“Good. I would like to offer you a position on the Governor’s Guards. Will you accept?”

Linsha rocked back on her heels. The Governor’s Guards! She hadn’t expected that. The governor’s bodyguards were the elite. They had to go through intensive training and were expected to serve Lord Bight with unswerving loyalty and obedience.

She paused a moment to savor his question. Yes, she wished it; she wished it very much. Entering Lord Bight’s private circle was something she had been striving for a long while, not only because of her duty to the Solamnic Knights but because she had come to respect this man and his abilities. And therein lay her dilemma. How could she serve both the Solamnics and Lord Bight with honor when her presence here was a lie, when her leaders ordered her to accept this commission solely to deceive and possibly discredit him? How could she give him her oath of fidelity when her first loyalty was to the Oath and Measure?

Of course, this was the only chance she would ever have to be close to him and perhaps learn his secrets. If she turned the opportunity down now, she would never be given another chance. She would have to go back to the City Guards and spend the rest of her days in Sanction patrolling the harbor alleys and taverns, and she would have to go back to the Clandestine Circle and tell them she had failed. Which rankled more? Deception or failure?

“Yes, Your Excellency. It would be an honor.”

Linsha’s fate was sealed.

Chapter

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Linsha knew, for good or ill, she had done the right thing. Without a qualm, she bore Lord Bight’s scrutiny with a passive regard of her own and waited for his response.

She wondered briefly if he had trained with the mystics and could read her aura. Many years ago she had spent time with Goldmoon at the Citadel of Light and had studied the basics of mysticism before she convinced her parents that she wanted to join the Knights of Solamnia. Since then she had used the powers she learned to aid in gathering information for the Knights. Her strongest ability was to read a person’s aura, or to sense the true nature, good or evil, of an individual’s character. She was tempted to try it now on Lord Bight, but she immediately dismissed the thought. There were too many others in the room, and it was quite possible that Lord Bight or one of his soldiers was sensitive to the power of the heart and could discern what she was doing. It went without saying that Lynn of Gateway would not have the trained talent to use mystic powers.

Instead, Linsha forced her thoughts into a silent, calming meditation that would reveal little to an aural scan. She focused her attention on Bight’s face. This mystery man, sometimes shady, sometimes cruel, often proud and arrogant, was fascinating to her. She felt no desire for him, only a wish to know him better, to understand what made him who he was. The fan lines in the corners of his eyes and around his mouth bespoke a sense of humor and warmth, yet his golden eyes were deep set and often brooded on the memories of things both glad and sorrowful. His face was ageless, neither young nor old, and alight with wisdom. His skin was tanned to a dark bronze and his…

“Commander Durne, my sword,” he said abruptly.

The sudden request made Linsha start. She froze as the tall commander of the Governor’s Guards brought forth a large sword in a jeweled scabbard that hung behind Lord Bight’s chair.

Lord Bight drew the sword in a deliberate motion that sent the rasp of metal against metal scraping through the silent room. All eyes were on the lord governor and the woman.

“Kneel,” he commanded.

She obeyed, intensely aware of the shining blade hovering over her head.

“Lynn of Gateway, I accept you as a squire in the company known as the Governor’s Guards. Will you train your mind and body to my service? Will you vow to devote your strength to this corps and your obedience to my will?”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” she replied in a clear voice.

“You will be allowed six weeks to learn the duties of the guards, train in weapons and martial arts, and study the company you wish to join. At the end of that time, you will have the choice of returning to the City Guards or taking an oath of fealty into my retinue. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes, Excellency. Thank you.”

He tapped her once on the chest with the tip of the great sword. “Rise then, Lynn.” A smile crinkled the lines on his face. “You may not have time to rest and change your uniform before you begin your duties tonight.”

Tonight? Linsha thought with chagrin. Would no one let her sleep? Aloud, she said, “Lord, if I may ask, why did you choose me for this duty?”

He shrugged. “We had an opening. One of my guards was killed last night in an unfortunate accident. I liked your courage and ability, so I will give you a trial.”

An accident? she wondered. Had it been happenstance or fate? She climbed to her feet and bowed to the lord governor.

Commander Durne returned the sword to its resting place, saluted Lord Bight, then turned to the guard still standing behind Linsha. “Morgan, you have duty at the training hall. You are dismissed. I will take her downstairs.”

Flashing a grin at Linsha, Morgan saluted Durne and Lord Bight and hurried out.