"Be quiet," snapped Rara.
"And even if he did, what good is it going to do? It's not as if it were the king himself."
"I don't understand," said Tel.
"That's good," said Rara. "And if you want to keep going with us, you won't try to find out."
"We can tell you this much," said Alter. "The man who owns the inn where we stay wants to do something. Now, he is a little crazy. He's always talking to himself, for example. But he needs someone who has no identification registered in the City. Now, if he thinks he can use you, you'll get free food and a place to sleep. He used to be the gardener on the island estate of the Duchess of Petra. But he drank a little too much and I guess at last he had to go. He still says she sends him messages though, about his plan. But ..."
"You don't have to go any further," Rara said, curtly.
"You'll hear about it from him," said Alter. "Why did you stow away?"
"I just got fed up with life at home. We'd work all day to catch fish, and then have to leave them rotting on the beach because we could only sell a fifth of them, or sometimes none at all. Some people gave up; some only managed to get it in their heads that they had to work harder. I guess my father was like that. He figured if he worked enough, someone would just have to buy them. Only nobody did. My mother did some hand weaving and we were living mostly on that. Finally, I figured I was eating up more than I was worth. So I left."
"Just like that, and with no money?" asked Rara.
"Just like that," Tel said.