“The best part of it,” Leoh said, stretching slowly on the couch, “is that the dueling machine is fixed so that telepath can’t bring in outside helpers without setting off a warning alarm, and I’ve got nothing to do until the new school year begins at Cannae. I might not even go back then; as long as the Acquatainians want to treat me so royally, why shouldn’t I spend a year or so here? There’s plenty of research I can do … perhaps even lecture occasionally at the university here….”
Hector tried to smile at the old man’s musings, but looked worried instead. “Maybe you shouldn’t stay in Acquatainia too long. I mean, well . . . the Kerak people might still be after you. Odal was going to challenge you before I … that is….”
“Before you saved me.”
The Watchman’s face colored. “Well, I didn’t really mean … that is, it wasn’t. …”
Leoh chuckled. “Don’t be so flustered, my boy. You’re a hero. Surely Geri regards you as such.”
“Urn, yes, I guess so.”
Changing the subject, Leoh asked, “And how are your quarters? Comfortable, I hope.”
“Sure.” Hector nodded. “The Terran embassy’s almost as plush as this apartment.”
“Not bad for a junior lieutenant.”
Hector fidgeted from the window wall to the couch, then sat on the edge of a web chair.
“Are you nervous about Sir Harold’s visit?” Leoh asked.
“N … nervous? No, sir. Terrified!”
Laughing, Leoh said, “Don’t worry. Harold’s a pleasant enough old grouse . -. although he tries his best to hide it.”
Nodding without looking convinced. Hector got to his feet again and went back to the window wall. Then he gasped, “He … he’s here!”