from his view of the city when the door behind him clicked. A soldier stepped out onto the balcony. His solid blue uniform with a silver collar matched Tamas’s, with a gold sergeant’s triangle pinned to the lapel, and stripes of service above his breast to indicate ten years. The man looked to be in his midthirties. He wore a finely trimmed brown beard, though military regulation forbade it, and his hair was cut short above his ears. Tamas gave the man a nod.
“Olem, sir. Reporting.”
“Thank you, Olem,” Tamas said. “You’re aware of the duties I need you to perform?”
“Bodyguard,” Olem said, “and manservant, errand boy. Anything the field marshal bloody well pleases. No disrespect meant, sir.”
“I take it those were Sabon’s words?”
“Yes, sir.”
Tamas suppressed a smile. He could like this man. Too free with his tongue, perhaps.
A thin ribbon of smoke rose from behind Olem.
“Soldier, is your back on fire?”
“No, sir,” Olem said.
“The smoke?”
“My cigarette, sir.”
“Cigarette?”
“All the latest fashion. Tobacco as fine as snuff, sir, and half the price. All the way from Fatrasta. I roll them myself.”
“You sound like an advertisement.” Tamas felt annoyance creeping on.
“My cousin sells tobacco, sir.”
“Why are you hiding it behind your back?”
Olem shrugged. “You’re a teetotaler, sir, and it’s well known among the men you won’t abide smoking either.”
“Then why are you hiding it behind your back?”
“Waiting for you to turn around so I can have a hit, sir.”
At least he was honest. “I had a sergeant flogged once for smoking in my tent. Why do you think I’ll treat you any differently?” That had been twenty-five years ago, and Tamas had almost lost his rank for it.
“Because you want me to watch your back, sir,” Olem said. “It goes to logic that you won’t hand out a beating to the man you expect to keep you alive.”
“I see,” Tamas said. Olem hadn’t even cracked a smile. Tamas decided he did like the man. Against his better judgment.
They examined each other for a moment. Tamas couldn’t help but watch the ribbon of smoke rising from behind Olem. The smell reached him then. It wasn’t terribly unpleasant, less pungent than most cigars, but not as pleasant as pipe tobacco. There was even a minty tinge to it.
“Do I have the job, sir?” Olem asked.
“You really don’t need sleep?”
Olem tapped the middle of his forehead. “I have the Knack, sir. Runs in the family. My father could smell a liar from a mile away. My cousin can eat more food than a hundred men, or none at all for weeks. My particular Knack? I don’t need sleep. I even have the third sight, so you know it’s the real thing.”
Men with a Knack were considered the least powerful among those with sorcerous ability. It usually manifested itself as one very strong and particular talent, though some were quite powerful. There were plenty of men who claimed to have a Knack. Only those with a third eye—the ability to see sorcery and those who wield it—were truly Knacked.
“Why haven’t you been swept up as a bodyguard before?”
“Sir?”
“With a talent like that you could be running security for some duke in Kez and making more money than a dozen soldiers. Or perhaps serving overseas with the Wings of Adom.”
“Ah,” Olem said. “I get seasick.”
“That’s it?”
“Bodyguards to the rich need to be able to sail with them. I’m useless on a boat.”
“So you’ll watch my back as long as I don’t go sailing?”
“Pretty much, sir.”
Tamas watched the man for another few moments. Among the troops, Olem was well known and well liked—he could shoot, box, ride, and play cards and billiards. He was an everyman as far as soldiers were concerned.
“You’ve one mark on your record,” Tamas said. “You once punched a na-baron in the face. Broke his jaw. Tell me about that.”
Olem grimaced. “Officially, sir, I was pushing him out of the way of a runaway carriage. Saved his life. Half my company saw it.”
“With your fist?”
“Aye.”
“And unofficially?”
“The man was a git. He shot my dog because it startled his horse.”
“And if I ever have cause to shoot your dog?”
“I’ll punch you in the face.”
“Fair enough. You have the job.”
“Oh, good.” Olem looked relieved. He removed his hands from behind his back and immediately stuck the cigarette in his mouth and pulled hard. Smoke blew out his nose. “It would have gone out soon.”
“Ah. I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“Of course not, sir. Someone’s here.”
Tamas caught sight of movement just inside. “It’s time.” He stepped toward