Suddenly, they heard a knock at the door.
They fell silent, freezing in place. The only sound in the house was the faint crackle from the cooking fire.
The knock came again, this time more insistent.
Pardo stiffened in his chair, slowly pushed himself away from the table, and got up. He walked to the door, smoothed down his hair, and turned the knob open.
"Morning, sir, and may you find the pearl," he said to the man outside the door.
Crolus's greeting in response was gracious enough but somewhat curt. "I trust you will not mind if I enter."
He moved past the farmer into the house. Today, Crolus was wearing a set of field plate; it was not quite full armor, but it was still shining brightly, and with his tabard bearing the hammer and scales of Tyr the Maimed God, he was an impressive and intimidating sight.
He said to Pardo, "I hope for your sake that you were not passing any seed to those causing unrest."
"Not a grain left my house, sir," Pardo said. He carried himself with the same pride in his home and work that he always had, but his thumb worked nervously at his ring finger's nail bed. "I just had some folks come by for a bit of breakfast, that's all."
"Indeed," Crolus replied. "No doubt the four of you were discussing the unrest last night."
"As a matter of fact, we were," Lidia said, getting up from her chair. "We were letting Pardo, here, know what happened because he had nothing to do with it except as one who suffered harm. Some of my people witnessed what happened — Mazzy Fentan should still be at the lodge if you want her account."
"I have spoken to her already. Regardless of what happened or why, another of the Baron's guards is dead. Your openly associating with someone responsible for organizing the trouble speaks ill of your character. To say nothing of the fact that you've usurped the Order's proper authority in this matter."
"That was never my intention," Lidia said, "and you can have as much of the credit as you wish. But there's something about Baron Metrich that I think you need to see."
Crolus escorted the members of the Company back to the lodge. When they arrived, Lidia went up to her room, plucked out the bill of sale, and returned, laying the document in front of where Crolus was seated at one of the tables inside the lodge.
She asked him, "Can you read this?"
He picked it up, scanning the page, his brown eyes darting back and forth underneath his heavy brow. Then, he finally said, "This Lanka was originally sold from Calimshan by the Rundeen to the Cowled Wizards, and then sold to Baron Metrich in 1361. It would go ill for him if this scrip came to light."
"Why is that?" Lidia asked.
"Five years ago, Baron Metrich was convicted of being an accessory to a slaver, one Baron Ployer. One of the conditions of Baron Metrich's release was that he divest himself of any people he claimed as property." Crolus pointed to a blank line on the bill of sale. "This spot is meant to record the date and circumstances of manumission, which has not been done."
He looked up at her. "How did you get this?"
Lidia told him, and he nodded in recognition as she explained.
"No doubt Lanka knows what the Baron's disobedience will cost him," he said. "I wonder what she was hoping to accomplish — she has quite a bit of influence as his servant, from what I understand."
She said, "The guards have been mistreating the people, and she's the one who has to go out and face them when the Baron wants something done. So perhaps she had a change of heart."
"Regardless of the reason, the Order cannot willingly accept Baron Metrich's patronage," he said, returning the bill of sale to Lidia. "No doubt Lanka will need this if she ever hopes to escape him."
He sighed. "Very well. You will get your meeting with the Baron. I only hope you know what you wish to do with it."