The winter's even been mild, and all seems well, which should have been Kos's first sign.
"Kostandin!" No one's yet figured out how the good Baron Marcus has rigged it, but somehow he can stick his head out of the library and roar a name loud enough to echo right out to the shore. "Now!"
Let us translate from Marcus's personal language to English: Pardon, Kos, may I have the pleasure of your company? I have something important to tell you.