mercenary_
legions—more important, the Commander—are free."Harald stopped. The room was silent. The King looked at his cousin. Andrew shook his head.
"I have heard no such news. Rumor. Perhaps a story spread by the Imperials to discourage other provinces from rebellion."
The King turned to Harald. "Your Excellency?"
"My neighbor's son was with the rebels."
"One mercenary. Even if he is honest, he might have been fooled by rumor—especially if he was looking for an excuse to come home." Andrew fell silent.
Harald looked straight back at him. "He brought Gryfydd an Gwyllian with him; we had the Count to dinner two nights before I left Haraldholt. The revolt's done."
Andrew said something quietly to the King, rose, left the room. Nobody spoke. At last the King broke the silence.
"My thanks for your news. This indeed means that we must settle the rebels quickly."
"Peacefully, Your Majesty. Corpses cannot fight. Every Lady your Wolves kill is one less bow beside us when next we face the legions."
"I will remember that, Excellency. But we have talked too long; my throat at least is dry."
The King clapped his hands. A moment later the door opened, admitting servants with wine, beer, trays of sweetmeats. As they put them out the King rose, walked to the door, turned.
"Refresh yourselves, Excellencies. I will be back shortly."
Stephen turned to Harald. "Things were very peaceful."
"In this room perhaps. What do your watchers on the Borderflood see?"
"Nothing coming across the fords but a few pack trains."
Harald turned to the lord across the table, younger than Stephen, broken