"To our host!" the commissioner cried again, lurching forward. "To Wassreck—"
The spell broke. The officers surged to their feet. Their shouts rang through the clamor: "To Wassreck—"
"—May he rot in hell!"
They drank it down.
Fury swirled up in Jarl Corvett, hot and all consuming.
Swaying, face flushed, the commissioner clutched a decanter. He spilled more kabat into his goblet. "Now—one for Corvett! A toast to Jarl Corvett—"
He broke off as Ylana tugged at his tunic. Lines of angry tension slashed the smooth loveliness of her face. Her lips moved, wrapping round curt syllables.
Her father laughed drunkenly. He turned towards the doorway where guards and raider stood, and his hand swept up in a clumsy broadside gesture. "Drag him out!" he shouted. "Flush the chitza out of his hole!"
The two Mercurians who flanked Jarl closed in. One clutched his arm.