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deeply and truly sorry would be such a weak repayment for my sins that no apology-no matter how
abject-should weigh the balance in my favor."
My father continued his steady, testing gaze.
'This may appear like a sudden, wild enthusiasm on my part. And considering my past history, I would
also reject my plan, if I were a father with such a son. But, I beg you, sir, to look into my heart and see
the truth that lies there. I desire nothing more than to please you. To wipe away all thought of suspicion of
my future motives. To be worthy of the Antero name, so my father can speak proudly in the
marketplace." I fell silent, not sure how to proceed.
"Is that all you have to say?' my father asked, voice harsh.
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"No, sir. I also wish to make clear that no matter what your decision, I shall accept it without complaint,
and I shall do my best to accomplish whatever Finding you deem worthy for one such as me. However,
before you firmly shut the door, sir, please consider this. For most men my age, a Finding is only an
excuse to travel and pleasure themselves at their fathers' expense. No new ground is ever broken.
Knowledge of the world is not expanded. And our trade routes still bump against the same forces that
keep Orissans from achieving their true purpose. Your generation was the last to push those bounds
back, sir. You, yourself, dared to redraw the maps with your Finding many years ago. And much of our
knowledge of the furthest western regions comes from your later trading expeditions. But you must admit,
the tradition of Finding One's Tradewind has become a mockery in these days. It is an excuse for the
sons of the rich to spend their fathers' money on foreign luxuries and women and wine, out of sight of
prudish Orissan eyes. And they return with nothing but a firsthand knowledge of the best taverns and
sporting houses in the civilized world."
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"You propose to be different?" my father said, dryly.
"Yes, I do, Father. For this reason, I ask for no more than a tenth of the funds usually allotted. This is to
be a real Finding, sir. I will not purchase a fancy wardrobe to impress the courtesans. Nor do I request
coin for an entourage of my friends as is the current custom. Nor do I desire any of the luxuries such
caravans usually carry: fine tents and carpets and pillows to ease the passage; wines and delicacies to
soothe the pallet after much barbarian fare; slaves to do all the labor; or women to relieve our passions
when local pleasures are denied us. I intend for this expedition to be as lean and professionally equipped
as I can make it. And with such a small expense there is a good possibility it will be profitable, even if we
do not reach our goal. I further believe, sir, that I was most fortunate in meeting Captain Greycloak, a
man whose presence doubly assures success in any such venture."
"What if I approved the Finding, but to a different destination?" my father asked.
"I would do the same in all things, sir," I answered. "Except I would not do it so well, because I would
not have Captain Greycloak in my company. I would be disappointed, to be sure. But proving to you my
worthiness, Father, is more important to me than avoiding disappointment." I stopped, then. For no other
arguments presented themselves. I braced for his rejection. Begging Halab's ghost to help me take his
refusal well.
There came a tapping at the door. My father's servant, Tegry, poked his head in. I saw a small grin of
pleasure on his features. It grew larger when he spied my obvious discomfort. He was chuckling to
himself, no doubt, that I was finally to get proper punishment for my actions.
"What is it?" my father asked, testy. Tegry's grin vanished. My father's tone was dangerous.
"You asked to be informed, master, when Captain Greycloak arrived."
I was dismayed. Obviously, my father had asked Janos to attend my final humiliation. I tried not to be
angry because this would be a rudeness to Janos as well. "Send him in," my father said. "And bring us
some wine. None of that vinegar from the marketplace, mind you. Fetch a good bottle from my cellar."
My gut wrenched as Tegry shot a nasty look in my direction and disappeared to do as he was told.
My father's actions were very puzzling. What he said to me next was more puzzling still. "For once, I do
not quarrel with the
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company you keep. And I did not rely alone on your sister's evaluation of Janos Greycloak. Captain
Greycloak seems to be an excellent soldier to command the military side of such an expedition ... if it is
approved. I was impressed enough with him, as a matter of fact, to invite him here to personally tell him I
find no fault in his character. It would be rude to do otherwise."
I heard Janos' boot steps in the hallway, and I wanted to slink away like an incontinent mongrel who had
just fouled his favorite spot by the fire. "Come in, my good captain," my father called with loud cheer
when Tegry announced Janos. 'Thank you for being so prompt in answering my request."
Janos had dressed with care and made a fine impression as he entered and bowed low. "It was my own
great pleasure in your kind invitation that brought me so swiftly, Lord Antero," Janos answered.
"Here,- none of that," my father said. "We should speak as equals, if you are to lead my son's expedition
to the Far Kingdoms. Call me Paphos, sir ... if you please."
My jaw was polishing the hardwood floor. My head was spinning with first confusion, then sheer joy.
Tears sprung to my eyes, and I felt a lump in my throat threatening to become a great sob of relief. I
wanted to fling myself at my father's feet and babble my thanks.
My father smiled and gave me a wink. "Pour us a little of that wine that Tegry has fetched, Amalric," he
said. "I want Janos' opinion of it."
I poured and passed the goblets around. Janos gave me an odd look, but I turned away so I wouldn't
make a complete ass of myself. I barely heard the conversation that ensued over the next hour. The
exchange must have been pleasant, as well as to Janos' credit, for there was much laughter at my father's
jests and respectful silences when he related some of his favorite adventures.
I kept wondering-what had I missed? A moment before my Finding had been denied. Now it had been
heartily approved and was being blessed with toasts of my father's best wine. In other words, where had
I gone right? What had I said to change the notoriously stubborn mind of one Paphos Karima Antero?
Then I understood, at least partly. His refusal had been a test. It wasn't what I had said that won the day,
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