Stacia’s was a small inn on the outskirts of Konstas, a port city in the south of Pharr. Tovin’s family came from the area, but he himself had grown up in the castle, training among the knights who served the king. Riding up to his sister’s inn, he dismounted at the door and tossed the reins of his lathered horse to the stable boy who sat on the ground. He’d made the trip in record time, and his steed’s heavy pants proved it. Digging out a gold denier from his saddlebag, he removed the bags from the pommel of his saddle and threw the coin at the boy’s feet. The kid scrambled to attention. “Brush her down, boy.”
Inside, a few men sat around weathered tables, and the barmaids who hurried around the floor glanced at Tovin as he stepped up to the counter. His sister tended the bar, her back
