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"Aye." Ealstan nodded. "Is there another one?"

"After the Kaunians burst that egg? You'd best believe there is, boy. It shows a monster peeking out from behind a mask that looks a little like you."

"A Kaunian monster," Ealstan said. This time, Pybba nodded. Ealstan's lip curled. "That's disgusting."

"It's a pretty fair broadsheet," Pybba answered. "Maybe not quite as strong as the one with the wolf, but close. Who's got any use for Kaunians, anyhow?"

He certainly didn't; Ealstan knew as much. Picking his words with care, Ealstan observed, "If the Algarvians hate the blonds, they've probably got something going for them."

"Fat chance," Pybba said. "All right. I just wanted to find out if you knew something I didn't. You don't." He raised his voice to an angry yell: "So get your miserable carcass back to work!"

Part of the reason for that yell was to make sure nobody outside wondered what Pybba and Ealstan were talking about in their quiet conversation. The rest was because Pybba was fed up with Ealstan. Ealstan knew that too well. He'd tried again and again to get his boss to pay some attention to the Kaunians in Eoforwic and in Forthweg generally. Who in all the kingdom had better reason to hate the occupiers and work against them? Nobody Ealstan could see. But Pybba didn't care. Despising Kaunians himself, he refused to see them as allies.

He wants a Forthwegian kingdom when the Algarvians get thrown out, Ealstan realized as he went back to the ledgers. Not a Kingdom of Forthweg, the way it was before the war, but a Forthwegian kingdom, without Kaunians. The Algarvians, as far as he's concerned, are solving the Kaunian problem for him.

That thought was chillier than Forthwegian winters commonly got. For a moment, Ealstan was tempted to throw his job in Pybba's face and find other work. But he'd already seen that Pybba could make it hard for him to find bookkeeping work.

And Vanai wouldn't want him to quit. He'd already seen that, too. She would want him to keep doing everything he could to drive Mezentio's men out of Forthweg. Whatever happened after that, it would be better than having the Algarvians running the kingdom. He didn't like that line of reasoning- loving his wife as he did, he wanted nothing less than full equality for all Kaunians- but he couldn't find any holes in it.

From somewhere in the vast pottery works came a large, almost musical crash, as of a good many crocks and chamber pots and dishes meeting an untimely demise. One of the fellows who worked near Ealstan- his job was writing catchy slogans for the wares Pybba produced- grinned and said, "Get out the red ink, my friend. There go some of the profits."

Pybba heard the crash, too. Pybba, by all the signs, heard everything. He flew out of his inner sanctum like an egg flying out of a tosser. "Powers above, that's coming out of somebody's pay!" he roared. "Just let me get my mitts on the butterfingered bunghole who buggered that up. Probably greased his hand so he could play with himself, the son of a whore!" And he rushed off to find out exactly what had gone wrong and who was to blame for it.