"The Consort Ivane, of course, agrees. If your people cannot pay their taxes, let them sell a few of their brats into service," Landor said smoothly.
The die was cast, then, thought Kieron furiously. All hope for an adjustment from Toran was gone and only one course lay open to him now.
"Nevitta! See that our men and horses are loaded tonight and the ships made ready for space!"
Nevitta saluted and turned to go. He paused, looked insolently at the First Lord, and deliberately spat on the floor. Then he was gone, his spurs ringing metallically as he disappeared through the high curving archway.
"Savage," muttered Landor.
"Savage enough to be loyal and worthy of any trust," said Kieron; "but you would know nothing of that."
Landor ignored the thrust. "Where do you go now, Valkyr?"
"Off-world."
"Of course," Landor smiled thinly, his eyebrows arching over pale, shrewd eyes. "Off-world."
Kieron felt a stab of suspicion. How much did Landor know? Had his spies pierced Freka the Unknown's counter-espionage cordon and brought work of the star-kings gathering on Kalgan?