‘Just don’t bash down the door,’ Tathenal advised. Garelko frowned. ‘Why not?’ ‘We must keep out the weather, of course. This is the purpose of doors and walls and so on.’ The eldest husband paused. ‘You have a point. Suggestions?’ ‘You could knock,’ said Tathenal. ‘Knuckles to wood, aye, sound notion.’ He shouldered his mace and glanced at Ravast. ‘See, pup? A wise leader must learn the art of assuaging his underlings. Of course, such recourse had already occurred to me, being eldest and so on. Yet I remained silent, to give Tathenal leave to feel clever. This is the art of command.’
