Saga of Menyoral: The Service Read Free

their father was dead.
    “The king’s brother replied, ‘Yes, I struck him down, but have you noticed I didn’t strike you, even though you’re the elder? Our father was not what you think. He was cruel, and starved the people. He didn’t deserve his royal seal, and I saw that you did, because you wanted so much to be a good king.’
    “‘Ah!’ the king cried in anguish. He couldn’t kill his brother now, not when he spoke wisdom. He ran back down to the river and was just about to shout out to the liung when he saw that the fish was waiting for him.
    “Before he could speak, the fish said, ‘Have you killed your brother yet?’
    “‘No, and I won’t. How could I, when he wanted only what was good for the people?’
    “‘My master the liung wants you to know that you have already learned the highest virtue of a king: compassion. Go and rule your kingdom, and remember that the true meaning of justice is understanding.’
    “The king—” But there, Sir Hui stopped speaking. Gudrun and Norbert were coming up the steps, sooty, sweaty, and reeking of smoke.
    “What news?” Disa asked, jerking herself straighter on the step. Her head spun.
    Gudrun shook her head. “The outside’s still standing. Otherwise? Total loss.”
    “Everything?”
    “Everything. And Solveig.”
    Disa felt suddenly ancie nt, and even more tired. Solveig was a friend, and a good one; for years, they’d had dinner once a week. “She’s dead?”
    “They got her.”
    She sagged against Sir Hui again. “Let’s go back in,” she said. To her credit, Gudrun refrained from an I told you so . She only lifted Disa in sooty arms.
    “Thank you, Sir Hui,” Disa said graciously.
    “My pleasure, ma’am,” he said, and bounded down the steps.
    “Wait!” Flannery shouted after him. “Sir Hui, did the king remember?”
    “Of course he did, sweetie!” Sir Hui called back, grinning over his shoulder. “His name was Chuang, and he was the greatest king ever to rule Kuo.” He gave her a jaunty wave as he leapt down the last two steps to the street and set off toward Knights’ Headquarters.
    “Come, Flannery,” Gudrun said, and they went into the Cathedral. Inside, beneath the rich scents of the incense the under-priests already burned, it stank of charred, wet wool.
    “Take me up there a moment,” Disa said, though all she'd wanted to do for hours was sleep. When Gudrun sighed and obeyed, she said to the under-priests, “Burn some myrrh for Solveig tonight, when you're doing the commendations.” When the affirmative came, Gudrun was already making her way out of the sanctuary to Disa’s apartments, so that the distance blurred the words. “Take me to my study, Gudrun, and fetch me a dressing gown,” she ordered.
    “Bed would be better.”
    “The study,” Disa said, as firmly as she could. She wanted to get a start on the paperwork for replacing the carpet. “But—perhaps you ought to remain nearby.”
    “I’d do that even if you told me no t to,” Gudrun said, with the faintest trace of a smile.
    Disa huffed. “You’re as bad as a Knight.”

Too Bad
    Fort Rule, Muscoda
    Krakus sat at his end of the desk in the sunny office, booted heels propped up and ankles crossed, playing with a metal ring puzzle that had sat for so long he didn’t remember the aim of the thing. Lech sat over on his end, scribbling something. The scratch-scratch-scratch- pause, scratch-scratch-scratch- pause of his quill as he wrote and dipped usually faded into the background, but today it annoyed Krakus near to screaming. He could go over to Section One and work with the Special Units a while—something he’d been doing more and more often—but didn’t see why he should always be the one to leave.
    Krakus had lost some pudge. Once, his gut had kept slipping out from under his breastplate. Now he wore one of the old ones, three sizes smaller. Soon he’d need to switch to a smaller one yet. He wasn’t thin, but he looked pretty good, if he