For a moment as he threw his hood back he looked confused, which in these grim
men was different in itself.
“I’m due here,” he said.
She liked this one better. He was human. She stared at him and blinked in the
wind and got out of his way. “Down the hall,” she called after him, and seized
the door, seeing no one else on the street, and pulled it to. Caught her skirt
and freed it and got the door shut. By that time he was gone down that hall, had
found the dining hall for himself.
There was a sudden quiet when he passed that door. She stopped in her own rush
toward the hall, terrified that there was something going on, rushed on, waving
frantically at Shiey, who appeared be-aproned and floured in the doorway.
“Food?” Shiey asked.
“Wait on the Mistress,” she hissed. “When the Mistress comes.” And then she
eased through that dining room door where a great deal of quiet had fallen. The
last-come stood still in the doorway, the Commander was at the other end of the
hall, and the two were staring at each other.
“Straton,” Tempus said. So she knew who it was; she felt the cold; she heard the
thunder rumbling over the roof and these great men with their swords all a
bristle with some offense that had to do with this man and his presence. Only
Tasfalen stood nonplussed, holding his wine glass and staring at Tempus as if he
had suddenly realized he was in very dangerous and exclusive company.
“Commander.” Straton came unfixed from the doorway and walked into the room. It
was all slipping out of control. Moria took a quick step forward, her throat