“Beg pardon,” I said. “But—the Treasury delegation was lodged here?” “It’s as I told you.” Malo grunted as we climbed a short, awkward stair. “No one loves the tax man, Kol. Don’t want him to stay, stick him somewhere shit. The king of Yarrow apparently delights in torturing the Treasury officers they send to speak with him, and requested they stay here.
