Free Wolf's Blood by Jane Lindskold Page A

been able to transport himself safely back to the Kingdom of the Mires.”
    “We expected iron to inhibit,” Ynamynet said thoughtfully. “How many transits does that make now?”
    Firekeeper didn’t think the Once Dead could have forgotten, not if Firekeeper could remember, but humans were notorious for asking questions for which they already knew the answers.
    “Five,” she said. “Two not so close, then three more recently. Four we send away. One we keep.”
    “It’s spring,” Ynamynet explained unnecessarily. “Winter is not a popular time for transits because what trade there is can easily be handled on snow-packed roads. For someone to wish to pay our tariffs in winter, they must be facing a grave emergency. Early spring, though, when the seas are still wild and the roads wet, has always been a popular time—especially as more southern lands know they can get a good price in the north where winter will stretch on longer.”
    “So we can expect the frequency to increase,” Derian said. “We’ve done our best to secure the gates, and so far our precautions have worked.”
    Blind Seer said, “Firekeeper, speak for me. Tell them that those precautions will only work as long as those who come through have no warning of what they will encounter. Remind them that next time instead of this unarmed man, the one to come through might have a bow or some other means of putting at risk the lives of those who stand gate watch.”
    Firekeeper translated for the wolf, and saw the others look grave. Skea nodded.
    “I had a similar thought. The Kingdom of the Mires is well known for its medical lore. Had Amelo possessed some weapon coated with a poison and offered the antidote only on grounds we do business, things could have gone very differently.”
    Tiniel added, “And you went right up to the cage, Skea. He wouldn’t have needed a bow. He could have reached out and stuck you with a pin.”
    There was something taunting in Tiniel’s tone, something Firekeeper did not think was wise, given how large Skea was, and how skilled in human-style fighting. Skea, however, did not take offense.
    “You’re right, Tiniel, and Blind Seer is right, too. In our immediate need to secure against magical attack or against the possibility that someone might make transit through the gate and then wander about undetected …”
    “As we did,” Blind Seer said, with a hint of a brag in his words, well aware no one but Firekeeper and Truth could understand him.
    Skea went on without being aware of the interruption, “We overlooked more normal precautions. I’ll put those into action directly.”
    “I agree,” Derian said. “Let’s get the word out among those who stand watch, to all the Nexans for that matter.”
    Ynamynet rose. “I wonder what is going to happen when our former client nations start comparing notes?”
    Firekeeper shrugged. “They learn that we is very fair and no one gets more than anyone?”
    Ynamynet’s expression remained thoughtful. She looked at Truth, but the jaguar offered no prophecies.
    “I hope that is all that happens,” Ynamynet said. “Is that all you have to report, Skea? Not that it’s not a lot, but I need to get the word out about our increased danger.”
    “That’s it,” Skea confirmed. He looked sheepish, not in the least a usual expression for him. “For some reason seeing Amelo bothered me more than the couple of other contacts we have had. Maybe it was because he was from the Mires, and the Mires was once our home.”
    Firekeeper admired him for his openness, especially since that openness might invite suspicion of how much they could trust him.
    “Then, if no one else has any business, we’ll be off,” Ynamynet said.
    “By all means go,” Derian said. “Thank you, Skea, and you, too, Tiniel, for bringing this to our attention.”
    Skea and Ynamynet left together, talking intently. Firekeeper might have worried that they were conspiring, but if they were, there was little