A knock woke her. She sat up. It came from the door that adjoined her room to Po's. She hadn't been asleep long, and it was midnight; and enough moonlight spilled through her window so that if it wasn't Po who knocked, and if it was an enemy, she could see well enough to beat the person senseless. All these thoughts swept through her mind in the instant she sat up.
"Katsa, it's only I," his voice called, through the keyhole. "It's a double lock. You must unlock it from your side."
She rolled out of bed. And where was the key?
"My key was hanging beside the door," he called, and she took a moment to glare in his general direction.
"I only guessed you were looking for the key. It wasn't my Grace, so you needn't get all huffy about it."
Katsa felt along the wall. Her fingers touched a key. "Doesn't it make you nervous to holler like that? Anyone could hear you. You could be revealing your precious Grace to a whole legion of my lovers."
His laughter came muffled through the door. "I would know if anyone heard my voice. And I'd also know if you were in there with a legion of lovers. Katsa – have you cut your hair?"
She snorted. "Wonderful. That's just wonderful. I've no privacy, and you sense even my hair." She turned the key in the lock and swung the door open. Po straightened, a candle in his hand.
"Great seas," he said.
"What do you want?"
He held his candle up to her face.
"Po, what do you want?"
"She did a far better job than I would have done."
"I'm going back to bed," Katsa said, and she reached for the door.
"All right, all right. The men, the merchants. The Sunderan men who were bothering that girl. I think they intend to come to us this night and speak to us."
"How do you know?"
"Their rooms are below us."
She shook her head, disbelieving. "No one in this inn has privacy."
"My sense of them is faint, Katsa. I cannot sense everyone down to the ends of their hair, as I do you."
She sighed. "What an honor, then, to be me. They're coming in the middle of the night?"
"Yes."
"Do they have information?"
"I believe they do."
"Do you trust them?"
"Not particularly. I think they'll come soon, Katsa. When they do I'll knock on your outer door."
Katsa nodded. "Very well. I'll be ready."
She stepped back into her room and pulled the door behind her. She lit a candle, splashed water on her face, and prepared herself for the arrival of the late-night merchants.
Six merchants had sat around the table in the eating room and laughed at the serving girl. When Po's knock brought her to the door, she found him standing in the hallway with all six, each carrying a candle that cast a dark light over a bearded face. They were tall, and broad-backed, all six of them, enormous next to her, and even the smallest taller and broader than Po. Quite a band of bullies. She followed them back to Po's room. "You're awake and dressed, My Lord Prince, My Lady," the biggest of the merchants said as they filed into Po's chamber. It was the man who'd first tried to grab the girl's arm, the one who'd first teased her. Katsa registered the mockery as he spoke their titles. He had no more respect for them than they had for him. The one who'd taken the girl's wrist stood beside him, and those two seemed to be the leaders of the group. They stood together, in the middle of the room, facing Po, while the other four faded into the background.
They were well spread out, these merchants. Katsa moved to the side door, the door that led to her room, and leaned against it with her arms crossed. She was steps from Po and the two leaders, and she could see the other four. It was more precaution than was necessary. But it didn't hurt for any of them to know she was watching.
"We've been receiving visitors throughout the night," Po said, an easy lie. "You're not the only travelers at the inn who have information about my grandfather."
"Be careful of the others, Lord Prince," said the biggest merchant. "Men will lie for money."
Po raised an eyebrow. "Thank you for your warning." He slouched against the table behind him and put his hands in his pockets. Katsa swallowed her smile. She rather enjoyed Po's cocky laziness.
"What information do you have for us?" Po asked.
"How much will you pay?" the man said.
"I'll pay whatever the information warrants."
"There are six of us," the man said.
"I'll give it to you in coins divisible by six," Po said, "if that's what you wish."
"I meant, Lord Prince, that it's not worth our time to divulge information if you'll not compensate us enough for six men."
Po chose that moment to yawn. When he spoke, his voice was calm, even friendly. "I won't haggle over a price when I don't know the breadth of your information. You'll be fairly compensated. If that doesn't satisfy you, you're free to leave."
The man rocked on his feet for a moment. He glanced sideways at his partner. His partner nodded, and the man cleared his throat.
"Very well," he said. "We have information that links the kidnapping to King Birn of Wester."
"How interesting," Po said, and the farce had begun. Po asked all the questions one would ask if one were conducting this interrogation seriously. What was the source of their information? Was the man trustworthy who had spoken of Birn? What was the motivation for the kidnapping? Had Birn the assistance of any other kingdoms? Was Grandfather Tealiff in Birn's dungeons? How were Birn's dungeons guarded?
"Well, Lady," Po said, with a glance in her direction, "we'll have to send word quickly, so that my brothers know to investigate the dungeons of Birn of Wester."
"You won't travel there yourselves?" The man was surprised. And disappointed, most likely, that he hadn't managed to send Po and Katsa on a futile mission.
"We go south, and east," Po said. "To Monsea, and King Leck."
"Leck was not responsible for the kidnapping," the man said.
"I never said he was."
"Leck is blameless. You waste your energies searching Monsea, when your grandfather is in Wester."
Po yawned again. He shifted his weight against the table and crossed his arms. He looked back at the man blandly. "We don't go to Monsea in search of my grandfather," he said. "It is a social visit. My father's sister is the Queen of Monsea. She's been most distressed by the kidnapping. We mean to call on her. Perhaps we can bring the comfort of your news to the Monsean court."
One of the merchants in the background cleared his throat. "A lot of sickness there," he said from his corner. "At the Monsean court."
Po's eyes moved to the man calmly. "Is that so?"
The man grunted. "I've family in Leck's service, distant family. Two little girls who worked in his shelter, cousins of some kind – well, they died a few months back."
"What do you mean, in his shelter?"
"Leck's animal shelter. He rescues animals, Lord Prince, you'll know that."
"Yes, of course," Po said. "But I didn't know about the shelter."
The man seemed to enjoy being the center of Po's attention. He glanced at his companions and lifted his chin. "Well, Lord Prince, he's got hundreds of them, dogs, squirrels, rabbits, bleeding from slashes on their backs and bellies."
Po narrowed his eyes. "Slashes on their backs and bellies," he repeated carefully.
"You know. As if they'd run into something sharp," the man said.
Po stared at him for a moment. "Of course. And any broken bones? Any sickness?"
The man considered. "I've never heard tell of any of that, Lord Prince. Just lots of cuts and slashes that take a wondrous long time to heal. He's got a staff of children who help him nurse the little creatures to recovery. They say he's very dedicated to his animals."