Geradon impatiently thumped his quill against the edge of the inkpot as he waited for the maid to leave so Rylan could continue his dictation. At last, the maid closed the door and Rylan continued. “ … if he is not at Northgate,” Rylan said, “then come here immediately. Underline ‘immediately,’ Geradon. Sign it and have that sent now. No, better still, I want you to hop a coach to Northgate. I want to make certain this gets to Richard now, and not six hours from now, if he is on duty.” * * * Nelerek had just finished his morning chores when the pounding began. He stepped out of his just-cleaned mews and onto the expanse of flat roof he used to weather his hunting birds. Looking over the edge of the roof he could see a coach parked below, but could not see the insistent knocker. “I shall come down,” he yelled over the edge of the roof. The pounding ceased. He traveled back through the mews, into his upper loft and downstairs. Opening the front door’s spy shutter, he peered outside.
