More men than he had anticipated were waiting for them in Uncle Tom's parlour. Captain Oswald had occupied the seat next to Prince River and was entertaining the Crown Prince with his loud ramblings about a twenty-foot shark he had once caught on a summer fishing trip the Southern Jade Sea. The tall tale halted as the Captain noticed Uncle Tom had entered the room and lowered his head. Behind him, outside the inner circle surrounding the coffee table, a man in a deep green garb stood up and bowed, showing off a hairline that was already in a rapid retreat to the back of his head. Around his neck dangled a fourteen-pointed star with fourteen shimmering diamonds. Master Martin, Temple and Treasury Master.

Not caring for any official courtesies, Sebastian sighed onto the couch. If Master Martin's presence wasn't already a herald of a long and boring meeting, the number of documents on his lap sure were. As Mary came in with a bountiful plate of cake and colour pasties in Greenlander green and Ician blue, Uncle Tom shooed Sebastian to the other side of the couch and claimed the spot that kept the men at the good side of his hearing.

Extra long and boring.

"I apologise for my and my nephew's tardiness." Uncle Tom looked around, meeting everyone's eyes except for his. "I take it you are all well and ready to start the final discussions on the Treaty of Sunstone Castle." He gestured at the Treasure Master. "Master Martin, the honour is yours."

Master Martin slipped a monocle to over his right eye and began flicking the pages. "We parted last night in disagreement over the arrangements during the winter moons."

"My point still stands," Prince River said calmly. "You can wish for Ician diamonds during winter, but if you want them, it will cost you thrice the price and a twenty percent fee in gold. Few dare to sail hundreds of leagues in perpetual darkness and frozen waters. The trade routes will be manned from the first day of the ground moon until the last day of the mud moon—that's all I can guarantee."

"Then it goes both ways," Uncle Tom said. "The last shipment of crops shall leave on the first day of the mud moon to guarantee safe passage back to Burnfirth."

"Not if we agree on manning the ships with an Ician crew. The last shipments can be three weeks later. Men and ships alike can spend the winter in Bigtown."

Captain Oswald grumbled in thought. "I doubt you have men to spare for such operation, Prince River."

"I'll find the sailors. Three weeks worth of extra wheat and potatoes might mean the difference between a slight hunger and starvation," Prince River reasoned. "A few years of decreasing child mortality will help the workforce grow in due time."

"If you provide the men, then you also provide the fleet," Uncle Tom said. "Both from Burnfirth and Mistport."

"If you can keep the Jade Pirates away from Northern waters."

Captain Oswald laughed. "My dear Prince, I have never heard of pirates crossing the border into Silvermark waters. Worry not—we'll keep them busy."

"I'll take up the matter with the army," Uncle Tom assured.

While Master Martin scribbled some notes, dipped his pen in a pot of ink on the side table, then scribbled some more, Sebastian's throat tightened. How he wished he could sneer that the Greenlander army knew nothing about the pirates. Their fate lay in Alex's hands. She was still alive, and she would stop the pirates from ever attacking again.

Not here and now. The new treaty was too important.

"To add to all that," Uncle Tom said. "In case of unexpected winter provisioning, the goods can be provided for thrice the price. That means, for instance, three tons of wheat in exchange for ten pounds of diamonds, and thirty pounds of diamonds for a ton of wheat. No extra fees. As always,  both countries can alter prices depending on the quality and the quantity of the harvests."

"I'm inclined to agree," Prince River said after some pondering, "but since Bigtown will be responsible for the fleet and crew, we decide whether the weather will permit us to set sail."

Uncle Tom pursed his lips, touching the bandage around his finger. He grimaced. "That seems fair. You are more familiar with the conditions up north."

"That means we can also alter the date of the first and last delivery."

Uncle Tom was quick to respond. "No, that should remain a mutual agreement—in accordance with the original treaty."

"Objection." Prince River held his hand up. "Two nights ago, you concurred to take out that rule. In practice, we never use it. Sending letters back and forth takes too much time."

"I want it in, even if we never use it."

"Thomas, there's no need to keep it in if it's never used."

"I disagree."

To hide his yawning, Sebastian stared at his feet. There was a scratch on the dark leather of his right shoe; the result of Bear's gnawing or pawing. Today he would have to give Captain Jonathan his answer, but he hadn't made up his mind yet. Though the opportunity of becoming a hero in the eyes of the people, he resented abandoning Bear so soon after he had received him. They were finally getting along. Bear had only peed once in his room since Sebastian had named him, and that had been Sebastian's own fault for preferring to sleep instead of taking the pup outside to the royal garden.

He grabbed a half green half blue pastry from the plate and took a bite. Quickly, his mouth filled with overly sweet pudding, and he had difficulty swallowing it.

As he pushed the plate back onto the table, Master Martin read about the transportation of captured magicians. The Greenlander army would facilitate the journey from one of the many army camps in the Horseshoe Mountains to either Burnfirth or Mistport (why they didn't sail from Porthby, which was closer to the border, was a mystery, but Sebastian didn't find the topic interesting enough to ask), and the Ician fleet would take them to Bigtown. From there, the Icians would send them to the diamond and coal mines up north.

"The Ician crown takes full responsibility for their lives, regardless of sex, age, education level, or disability," Master Martin read carefully. He paused.

"Carry on." Prince River gesticulated.

"The Ician treasury shall foresee five gold pieces for every man, and three gold pieces for every woman fit for labour. A discount of two pieces of gold shall be applied for every person deemed inadequate to descend the mines."

When Master Martin stopped, Prince River turned to Uncle Tom. "We discussed my concerns, and you guaranteed the date of the renegotiation would be documented. Five or six years from now. I cannot let Ice become the next Silvermark when we have more mouths to feed than ores in the mines."

Even though Captain Oswald subtly shook his head, Uncle Tom was too busy wiping beads of sweat off his forehead. He gave in. "Subject to renegotiation by the King of Ice and the King of The Greenlands, every six years, starting today."

"No, no, Thomas," Prince River chuckled, baring his yellowish teeth. "Subject to renegotiation by the King or his envoy."

"Had to see you were still awake, River," Uncle Tom jested. "I agree with the statement. Add it to the text."

"I'm awake." River shook a cup—Scorian brew without a doubt. "Unlike your nephew. He seems ... quiet."

Sebastian shrugged. "I don't have much to add."

"Not much... so you do have something?" Prince River asked.

"Not really," Sebastian had to admit. "I mean—the diamond trade route has been around for almost fifteen years. So you go by sea instead of by land now. Why do you have to write so many pages about that?"

"Well, Silvermark is what's different," Captain Oswald said before anyone else could.

"We also want to increase the trade with the Greenlands," Prince River said. "You get more diamonds and coal, we get more crops and workers, which will get you more diamonds and coal in return. The Greenlands can become a hub to the south. We'll all become richer."

"The workers will be magicians." Sebastian tried looking at Uncle Tom who wouldn't meet his gaze. "I don't have a problem with it, but I don't think southerners will want to buy diamonds carved by ..." He turned his voice to a whisper. "... people born in sin."

"You'd be surprised how little people care where shiny novelties that make them look important come from," Uncle Tom said. He rubbed the bandaged finger.

"Is that so?" Sebastian looked at the Treasury Master. "Master Martin, would you wear the holy star if you knew a magician's hands had dug up the diamonds?"

"I'm not here to give my opinion, My Lord," he replied politely.

"But I'm asking it!"

Uncle Tom laid his hand on Sebastian's arm, his touch warm. "Sebastian," he said with warning eyes.

"But I'm asking it," Sebastian repeated, hushed.

"My Lord," Captain Oswald said in Master Martin's stead. "Magicians are better off in an Ician mine than roaming Greenlander roads. What the commonfolk don't know, they won't care about."

"It's wrong," Sebastian insisted. "We should either accept the magicians or state that we won't have anything to do with them. Right now, it's like we're having two faces. One for the Icians and one for our own people."

"It's politics," Uncle Tom said. "While this country holds a predominantly conservative view, I'm also receiving increasing demands for more humane policies and practices. I listened, and this renewed deal with Ice is my answer."

"What will you do with the Lords and Ladies that oppose you?"

"I'll please them in other ways." Uncle Tom turned back to the men, flustered, whether it be shame, fever, or both—Sebastian couldn't tell. "Again, I must pardon my nephew. He still has a lot to learn. We can continue. Unless someone has any other remarks, objections,..."

The conversation steered into waters of war. Although all men agreed it was a matter of moons or years before the war between Silvermark and The Greenlands would break out, Prince River insisted the Icians would come to neither King's aid.

"We know nothing, hear nothing, see nothing," River repeated his mantra. "What happens between you and Ariel is your business, Thomas. We suspend the trade route at the first sign of war."

"Then you risk starvation," Uncle Tom argued.

"When Ariel is standing at the gilded gate of Sunstone Castle, our diamonds will be the least of your worries. You'll need your crops to feed your own army."

"Not immediately. I won't let one sunken ship be the end of our deal."

"I insist. We'll cease all trade with Silvermark too."

"I don't care." He wiped more sweat off his forehead. "Double your prices if you must, but unless The Silver Army is purposely blocking or attacking the routes between our ports and Bigtown, the deal remains on."

Prince River ate a biscuit in thought, then agreed under the condition that the Greenlander crown would pay for the damages. 

Uncle Tom complied with the request. Even in times of war, he wanted to assure The Greenlands was perceived as a prosperous land. While the army gave their lives to keep the Silvermarkers out, the rich Lords and Ladies could show off their newest diamond chains and rings. They kept up appearances, and so did Sunstone Castle. All was well. The King and the army had everything under control.

Why didn't Captain Oswald say anything? George would have never agreed.

Thinking of George brought him back to the choice he had to make. Bear for the honour and glory of bringing the General back to Sundale. But what if all was well, and George was simply taking so long to plan and arrange the transport of magicians from Whitepeak to the harbour in Burnfirth? He would be a Muttonhead to arrive at the army camp unannounced while George was sipping tea or Scorian Brew with Captain Frank. 

When Master Martin announced he had all input to revise the document one last time, Uncle Tom declared the meeting to be over. Finally. A minute longer and Sebastian's butt would have become one with the couch.

He didn't stay to remind Uncle Tom to see a Healer, but dashed off to his chamber, ready to release Bear from the torture of Nick's endless storytelling and play with him until the Captain came, but he already found the old man rummaging through the books on his desk.

"I didn't expect you yet," he remarked. No Bear. No Nick.

"I am punctual so you don't have to be, My Lord."

"You didn't have to. Any news from George or Whitepeak?"

"Not a single pigeon." The Captain moved towards the couch. "Now if we can arrange—"

Sebastian remained standing. "We can be quick about this. I'm in favour of investigating the General's whereabouts—send a small patrol to Whitepeak if that will ease your mind—but I won't take part. If Uncle Tom were to ask me, I'll be Ician about the matter."

"Ician, My Lord?" The Captain tilted his head.

"I know nothing. I have seen nothing, nor heard anything. Any success or failure is your doing, Captain. Not mine."

The Captain took a moment to study Sebastian's face, his own emotionless. "Are you declining because of your pup?"

"I don't need to defend or explain my decision, Captain."

"You do not, My Lord. But I must guard that you've considered all the right reasons to make your choice." The man darted a look out the window. "Can I interest you in a stroll through the Hall of Heroes?"

"I fail to see how looking at paintings and statues of old dead people is going to help me change my mind." He wanted the Captain gone, and Bear returned to him.  

"I take it you know the heroes and heroines of the realm quite well, My Lord. That is not why I am asking."

Sebastian crossed his arms. "So why are you?"

"Because the view on the royal garden is excellent. And there's something, someone, I must show you."

Sebastian had a hunch who the Captain was talking about. Nick and Bear were no longer in his chamber, where he had left them, so they must have gotten out.

"They've been here for over an hour at least," Captain Jonathan said as they stood in the bay window on the second floor, overlooking the garden. "I watched them for a while. They make a fascinating pair."

Sebastian arched his brow.

Bear and Nick were running (not very fast; this was still Nick), the pup pulling in the opposite direction when Nick almost trampled the flowerbeds or threatened to run into a tree. They went around the pond, missed the chair that had fallen, and darted deeper into the garden, towards the shed.

Bear barked twice, which made Nick stop. The pup jumped into his arms and licked his face.

If Sebastian could have squeezed the marble, he would have. "He shouldn't be doing that."

"The God of Greed is taking hold of you, My Lord."

"It's not," Sebastian sneered. He took a deep breath. "He's not, Captain. Bear's saliva—I think is makes wounds worse. Uncle Tom has a fever, his finger bothered him."

"His Majesty is prone to infections. I don't think you should worry."

"I'm not worried about Uncle Tom." Then added, mumbling, "Or Nick. But I don't want him blaming Bear for getting ill."

"Cadet Nicolas doesn't seem the type."

Nick was walking back to the castle, carrying Bear. The pup barked, seemingly haphazardly at first, but when Sebastian really looked and listened, there was a certain interval between two yelps. Nick responded by skipping more towards the left or the right.

His mouth fell open. Bear's barks helped Nick to know where to walk, run even, without harming himself or others. Nick was so talkative all that was missing was a book in his hand for the picture to be complete.

"No, Nick doesn't seem the type," Sebastian murmured. "He likes Bear, and Bear likes him."

While he hadn't been the one to take Nick's sight, he had been the reason had joined George on his journey to Whitepeak. Neither had Laneby been his fault but had Nick lived anywhere else, his family would be serving another Lord of Laneby. Alex wouldn't have travelled all the way to the Jade Islands; Billy would still be alive.

He was no God. He couldn't undo what had been done, but he could make some wrongs right. If he did them for the right reasons.

Two guards were approaching them. They marched on, turning the corner and taking the stairs. He silently counted to ten before asking, "Captain, how sure are you that the General is in danger?"

"May the sun stop rising if I'm wrong, My Lord."

"That's very drastic, Captain. I'd almost accuse you of spending too much time with Lana and Nick."

"Which you won't." The Captain looked at him with half an eye.

"No." Sebastian winked, feigning a good mood. "I have more important matters to attend to. Preparations I need to make for a journey up north."

The Captain relaxed in his presence. "And your dog, My Lord?"

Sebastian's lips trembled. He placed his hands on the glass and swallowed, his throat yearning for one last portion of poppy potion to dull the ache of his future loss. The reward of returning George better be good. "I don't need to explain. You already know what I must do. For the kingdom."

"Aye, My Lord. For the kingdom, present and future." The Captain began to walk and Sebastian followed. "I must take my precautions too. All I can give you is a week from the moment you leave the gates of Sundale."

"And what after a week?"

"At sunset of the seventh day, you'll hear hooves rumbling."

Sebastian grinned. "It won't come to that. I'll save George before that time."

"And then you'll be a hero, My Lord."