'Have you looked inside?'
The soldier shook his head.
'It has recently been resealed,' the old warrior observed. 'The varnish is chipped and there is a smell of resin.'
The soldier stood stiffly to attention.
'I took possession of the box as instructed. I was not instructed to open it.'
The old warrior inserted a blade and broke the seal.
'You paid in gold?'
'I handed over a sealed bag.'
'The Catti have a new Head Master ...'
'That is correct, Excellency. He is the one they call Sky Warrior.'
'Hgh,' the old warrior grunted. 'Let us see what the Sky Warrior gave you for the contents of that bag.'
He removed the lid and grabbed a mop of red hair. The putrefying face of the former Head Master hung below. He dumped it at Morgon's feet.
'We paid gold and this is what we got!'
A gasp went up from the crowd. Men reached for their swords and Morgon sprang at the soldier who had delivered the box. His knife curved up under the man's breastplate and entered his heart.
'Death to all who disobey my orders.'
He shouted in the native tongue and was relieved to see the look of approval on the tribesmen's faces. His prompt action had prevented a riot.
***
Alvero entered the market place. He liked being there. The natives weren't so bad when you got to know them. They smelt a bit but you got used to that. Some could be quite friendly if you tried to learn their language and treated them as equals. He felt homesick. He'd joined the army because that was what young men did on his island. There was a shortage of land and lots of mouths to feed. Now he wanted to go home. He didn't like military life and he hated his officers. His native girlfriends knew that.
There was one he particularly wanted to see. He'd got to know her when he was on guard duty outside King Pius' residence. She was a servant there and knew Princess Adrina. He'd even spoken to the princess, bidding her good day in the native language. To his surprise she returned the greeting in his own language, speaking his own dialect.
A young boy sidled up to him and whispered something about a message. Alvero was suspicious. There was a sort of boy who traded his body for money and pimped for female relatives.
'The message is from a lady.'
Alvero kept walking.
'She gave me this to show you.'
The boy held out a piece of linen. It came from the hem of a garment and bore the chevron pattern of the Royal House of Gorm. Alvero was still suspicious. He had friends who had received invitations from native girls, only to find themselves confronted by their male relatives.