Free Spirit Gate: Book One of Crossroads by Kate Elliott

unreliable.”
    He indicated the Snake, whose stare challenged him. “Reeves are often unreliable. In many different ways.”
    The Snake flicked up a little finger. Peddo, seeing the rude gesture, winced.
    The commander either ignored the exchange or did not notice it. “Neither I nor the six marshals can unmake a reeve. However, I can ask for a legate to be withdrawn and replaced. As I have done. Because legates cannot be unreliable. Now. Do you want to know why I called you in today?”
    “This hasn’t been enough?”
    “I’m hoping for much worse,” muttered the Snake.
    “Volias,” said the commander in a tone so genial it seemed threatening. “Do not tempt me to start in on you and your manifold faults.”
    Peddo sucked in a breath, as if in pain. Then, amazingly, he laughed, and somehow his laughter released a bit of the tension in the chamber. Joss wiped his brow, chuckling. Even the Snake cracked a smile.
    The commander nodded. “I have a mission of particular importance. It is customary for the merchants’ guild to hold its grand conclave in Toskala at the advent of every Year of the Fox. The fox being a cunning animal beloved of those who take to the merchant’s craft. And so the merchants and folk associated with the guild convened at the Guild Hall at the end of this last ibex year. Their meeting is now over. The first topic among them, I am
reliably
informed, was the safety of the roads. Roads are their lifeblood. Without safe passage, a merchant cannot arrange for the transfer of goods.”
    Joss’s attention began to wander during this schoolroom speech. He noted how sparsely furnished the chamber was. Only last week a low couch had stoodin the far corner, but now that space was empty except for a thin mat rolled up and tied with red string. The cupboard with its multitude of cubbyholes and small drawers remained, on the other side, but the fine glazed vase, normally filled with flowers and set atop the cupboard to give the room some color, was missing. A large gold-plated hairpin weighed down papers on the desk. The commander had served the Lantern in her youth; her ability to write and read was one of the reasons she had been elevated to the post. Her pen-and-ink case, lid firmly closed, sat by her right hand. A painted chest sat on the matting behind her, so she need only turn to get into it. An enameled tray had been shoved back, to the left; it held an orangeware ceramic pot suitable for brewing khaif, as well as two thin wooden drinking bowls small enough to cup in the hands. No doubt Master Tanesh had been offered the hospitality of the hall. Where had the couch and vase gone?
    “According to the delegation who met with me this morning, the guild council in association with the guild of carters and transport compiled a list of roads along which caravans and wagons have been attacked in the last three years. These are attacks, mind you, in which both the attack and its aftermath were at no time witnessed by or in contact with reeves. The list is extensive, the danger widespread, and moving steadily into the southern regions of the Hundred. More importantly, of these attacks fewer than half were then reported to the local reeve halls, and of those reports, only a hand’s count were traced to their origin and the criminals brought to the assizes to face trial. The guild, need I say, is not pleased with the reeves. They feel we are not doing our duty. They want reeves assigned to caravans as permanent escorts.”
    The Snake grunted. “Begging your pardon, Commander, but we’re spread so thin patrolling the hinterlands and making sweeps along the roads and tracks that we can’t assign reeves to act as guards for the merchants. Aren’t the local militias responsible for the safety of the roads within five mey of every town? Can’t the guild hire guards, like they do in the south when they travel over the pass into the empire? Or are they just too cheap for that?”
    “As for hiring guards, I