Sunjata handed me a suede pouch. “Take it. I don’t want it anywhere near me.” I opened the pouch and withdrew a ring. Plain gold, shaped like an intricate knot. “Is it a good copy? Good enough to fool Astegal?” Sunjata gave me a disdainful look. “What do you think? Of course.” I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” He pulled away slightly. “You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve nearly convinced Jabnit to send me to New Carthage to establish trade for the House of Philosir. The old glutton’s rubbing his hands together with glee at the thought of the profit to be made on the back of a looting army.” “That’s wonderful!” I was touched. “I didn’t think you’d go.” He shrugged. “It was Hannon’s idea. He wants Guild eyes and ears on the ground there.” Sunjata smiled sourly. “Hannon’s a tool of the Council of Thirty, and there’s a slow-dawning concern among them that they might not be able to control Astegal once he seizes Aragonia.
