《The Eagle's Flight》


 Chapter 1: Journeys End

    Chapter 1: Journey''s End


    <em>Let all who read these words know that this tome was written at themand of King Sigvard in the fourth year of his blessed reign. He that is High King of all the realms of Adalmearc, Dragon of Adalrik, Drake in the North, Drakon in the South, Ormkongungr in the West, dragonborn ruler, and rightful atheling of Sigvard Drakevin.</em>


    <em>Long may he reign.</em>


    <em>Within is contained all that is known concerning the Great War and the years before, during, and after. Let it serve to instruct future generations, to inspire them through the great deeds performed, to warn them by examples of treachery endured, and to teach them to remain true to their oaths, the Codex, and the Alfather, by whose hand all is aplished.</em>


    <em>Thus write I, Quill, the kings scribe</em>


    Journey''s End


    Middanhal


    All roads eventually led to Middanhal. Silk, spices, ivory, cotton, and precious gems first reached the city-state of Alczar before travelling by ship north through perilous seas to arrive at the shores of Adalmearc. For some the journey ended here, selling their goods for others to transport further on and in turn buying wool, linen, timber, and dye to bring back. Others moved from seagoing ships to river transports and continued further ind, forming a convoy of various travellers banding together forfort and safety. It took weeks sailing on the rivers upstream, and often the ships were pulled by spans of oxen walking on the riverbanks.


    Eventually, one reached Coldharbour, the northernmost port on the river near its source in the mountains. Here, all would have to disembark, goods and passengers alike, pay the toll, and continue on foot, horseback, with mules, or on cart. It was fifty miles from their destination as the arrow flew, but to be near fresh water the road followed the curves of the river as it snaked through thendscape. This nearly doubled the final journey. The caravans would also increase in size as pilgrims, priests, peasants, and other people joined it.


    Finally, their destination began to appear. A great chain of mountains ran from west to east through Adalmearc, broken only in one ce. There, situated on a hill dwarfed by the mountain peaks directly to the east and west of it,y Middanhal. From afar, one could spy its impregnable walls with towers and buildings rising on the hill behind those fortifications. Coming closer, the gate itself would be in view. When closed, steel doors with intricate carvings blocked the entrance to the city, but during the day, the gate was opened and allowed entry.


    The city guards inspected all who entered, and they collected toll as people passed through. The gate was wide enough that twenty men could stand shoulder by shoulder with ease, and the road beyond had the same width. It was the main street in Middanhal, named Arnsweg in honour of the king who built it. First, it passed through what was simply called Lowtown; the neighbourhoods between the outer walls and the river that coursed through Middanhal. Although the smallest part of town, twice as many people lived here than in the rest of the city; it was home to the poor, the servants who served others, and the beggar priests who in turn served them.


    While the outer walls marked one end of Lowtown, a natural boundary between the poor part and the rest of the city was provided by therge river Mihtea that flowed through the city. Only the Arnsweg and its stone bridge gave passage further into the city. Moving beyond Lowtown and up along the Arnsweg, travellers would enter the city proper. Here they would find the shops and workshops of ordinary trade, and in the western party the warehouses and merchants quarter.


    Reaching this point, traders from Alczar would turn left and leave the Arnsweg, bringing their exotic goods to their stores in the small section designated for foreign merchants. There they might give thanks to their heathen gods for a safe journey, unload their cargo, and in turn pick up iron ore as well as silver, jewellery, and the expertly crafted tools for which Middanhal was famous. Merchants of the caravans who were native to Adalmearc would separate as well, each seeking his own storehouses. Any remaining travellers of the original convoy would continue along the Arnsweg until reaching the Temple square and the heart of Middanhal.


    ced directly in the centre of the cityy the holiest of temples, the Temple of the Alfather. None other was allowed dedication to Him, most high of all. The square itself would be full of people, serving as a marketce with stalls and people offering their goods. A steady stream of pilgrims and supplicants would move forward to the Temple itself, as would ordinary travellers, simply wishing to express their gratitude for reaching a long journeys end. For some it meant hours of waiting, though a knight and his squire with the dust of Alczar on their cloaks might push their way through the throng.


    Some needed to go further still. At the Temple square, the Arnsweg divided itself. One branch led northeast to the quarter popted by the nobility and their mansions. The other branch moved northwest, leading to the quarter of specialised workshops, forges, and craftsmen that worked iron into arms and armour primarily. The citys small enve of Dwarves lived primarily here, staying together forfort and safety. Beyond these buildings, the Arnsweg moved alongside the other structure that dominated Middanhal. To the northwesty the great fortress known as the Citadel.


    It was an immense construction,rger even than the Templeplex. Its northern part was closely tied to the city walls and gate, adding its defences to those fortifications. Here the city guard resided and more importantly, the Order of Adal. Thousands of knights and tens of thousands of Order troops were controlled from those halls, and every day, knights and soldiers arrived from or departed to their postings.


    The southern part of the Citadel was reserved for the king, his family, his court, and the nobility. On the lower levels lived the servants by the kitchens and everything else that made life possible within the stonewalls. Below were the dungeons and above were the residences for the court and nobility. Nobles without their own house in the city might be quartered here as the kings guests along with the rest of the court. Furthest up were the royal chambers, reserved for the king and his kin as well as his personal servants.


    The library tower was ced in close vicinity and had its own entrance so a visitor would not need to enter the royal residence. A lone traveller now walked this way, this final distance of a long journey. He wore a hat as cover against the sun, a cloak to ward off cold and dirt, and a simple walking staff in his hand for support. His paper of passage gave him admittance to go through the gate of the Citadel and up the winding stairs.


    The tower was specifically built to allow as much sunlight to enter as possible, but only in angles onto surfaces where no books were kept that might decay in the light. Special alcoves contained torches to illuminate the tower after nightfall, and they were built with ss coverings to avoid any chance of fire spreading and with cleverly constructed chimneys leading the smoke away.


    This was the domain of the Quill, the kings scribe. He maintained the old books, wrote new ones, added to the annals, and was the expert on all matters pertaining to thews of the realm. The current Quill wore a robe much like the priests at the Temple, dark red in colour, and had hands stained by ink; his skin was bronze, however, and his curly hair and beard were ck if lightly touched by grey. He was a native of Alczar and had taken the journey to Middanhal decades ago as a young boy, ending up as apprentice to the Kings Quill of that time. Now he had seeded his master and had an apprentice of his own.


    His long, slender fingers were gently repairing the binding on a book entitled <em>Herbs of the Realm and Their Uses </em>when a vague gust of wind raised a few of the pages into the air before once again descending. This announced as sure as any bell that the door had been opened, and Quill raised his head slightly. Is that you, boy? His voice came as soft as the feathers on the quill for which his position was named.


    Try again. The other voice sounded younger yet held far more weariness. It came from the inner hall of the tower, where the many books were kept and to which the scriptorium was adjacent. At the sound of this voice, Quill rose so abruptly he almost toppled his chair. He turned to face his guest as thetter entered into the scriptorium.


    You have returned. When I did not hear from you thesest many months, I wondered


    It would take a lot to silence me permanently, the visitor said dryly, cing his walking staff against a wall. They both extended their hands and sped them around the others in greeting before separating again.


    Sidi, Quill greeted him, speaking a word in the tongue of Alczar and bowing slightly. Although he addressed the stranger in his own tongue, his guest did not resemble the Quill. While the strangers hair was also dark, it waspletely straight and his skin appeared to be less tanned. No white streaked his hair, nor did wrinkles crease the neers skin. He seemedpletely unmemorable except in one respect. His eyes were of indeterminable hue, and his age would be difficult to guess with certainty.


    We are not in Alczar, the stranger said with a vague smile.


    Godfrey, then, Quill acknowledged. The stranger inclined his head as if greeting Quill from anew.


    You did not receive mytest missive, I take it, Godfrey said.


    Quill shook his head. What did it say?


    Alczar is buying lumber in great quantity.


    Not much of a message, Quill said, but enough to condemn your messenger.


    Godfrey nodded. They must have kept me under observation. Probably watched all travellers arriving from the north stepping onto the docks.


    But you are certain? Both about the quantity and its purpose?


    Godfrey nodded again. The ship I took south carried lumber. The ship on which I stowed away northbound had taken a cargo of lumber to the city. Thankfully it carried wine back north, which made for a more pleasant hideout, he added with a smile.


    And the purpose?


    I saw the ships under construction. Deep keels. Even if I had not, there can be no doubt. Why else intercept my message, kill my messenger? Why else seek to apprehend me?


    So it is to be war, then. Quill spoke these words with a hint of a quiver betraying emotions that did not show on his face.


    I believe so. Maybe not within the first year or two, but eventually, Godfrey dered.


    If I had received your letter, I would have advised the king to ban all further sale of timber. s, as it stands now Quill said, raising his tanned hands in a gesture of defeat.


    Yes, I heard when Inded back in Adalmearc. I have told our man in Thusund. He will get the trade blocked, though the damage is done. Enough of this  tell me what happened to the king. Travelling on the road I have only heard unreliable rumours.


    Let us sit down, Quill spoke, beckoning towards a small table with a chessboard upon it and two small chairs.


    ying a game?


    Against my apprentice, Quill said, taking the seat of the ck yer. That reminds me Egil!


    You are losing, Godfrey muttered and took the seat opposite. A boy of fourteen years appeared in the doorway of the scriptorium.


    Yes, master?


    Did you fetch the parchment?


    Yes, master.


    Bring water for me and our guest. Then practise your letters, Quill told him.


    Yes, master. There was silence while the boy did asmanded, filling two cups with water and bringing them into the scriptorium. He ced them on the small table, careful not to disturb any of the chess pieces, before departing silently.


    When they were alone again, Godfrey took a sip of his water and then looked at Quill. You finally chose an apprentice.


    He seemed like the brightest of the novices in the Temple, Quill confirmed.


    A Temple novice? He is an orphan?


    As they tend to be, yes.


    And so his only ties are to you, Godfrey said with a sly smile.


    His conditions are better here, Quill said while hiding his face with his cup. In the Temple, he would be one scribe of many. Here, eventually, this tower will be his sole domain.


    Does he know about me? asked Godfrey. Behind the cup, Quills expression froze.


    Not yet. I will tell him soon, now that he has met you.


    The king, Godfrey said in an abrupt change of subject. Inform me, hemanded.


    It was some months ago. The norns say it was old age, but he could easily have lived another twenty years, Quill stated. He simply wasted away thesest few years. Ever since the death of his son.


    How did the prince die at such a young age? Godfrey asked Quill. I have heard rumours, but nothing I would consider reliable.


    Ambushed and killed in the hignds. It was what sparked the revolt among the ns.


    I have been away too long, Godfrey mumbled to himself. He had a son himself, I seem to recall. How old is the boy? The kings grandson, he borated.


    Some eleven years, I think. Ten years too young to seed.


    But he is the only heir, is he not? If I remember correctly, Godfrey frowned, thete king has no other children or grandchildren.


    No, the blood of Sigvard runs thin. There are two other houses descended from Sigvard, Quill exined, but they are cadet branches and have no support to make any ims. As things stand, our eleven-year-old prince is the only heir.


    And yet he cannot take the throne until he is twenty-one. Tell me,w keeper, what happens in the next ten years until that takes ce?


    At the next Adalthing, the jarls will elect a lord protector to rule until the young prince is of age to be crowned, Quill told his visitor.


    For ten years, Godfrey said contemtively. The lord protector will have ten years as ruler of the realm


    The Adalthing assembles at summer solstice, Quill told him. Only a few weeks from now.


    I need to travel into the East, Godfrey said. But I think I can dy for a few weeks. I have to go find lodgings before the city is overrun by pilgrims.


    You are wee to stay in the Citadel as my guest, Quill protested. I am sure He was silenced by Godfreys raised hand.


    A modest inn somewhere will suit me fine. I could use a few silver coins, though, Godfrey said expectantly, and they rose from the table. Quill walked out of the scriptorium, followed by his visitor. He opened a drawer, took out a pouch, and poured some of its content into Godfreys open palm, who epted with a nod. We will meet again soon, Quills visitor said as he adjusted his cloak around him, took his staff, and left with speed.


    A faint breeze told Quill that Godfrey had opened the door and was gone. How much did you hear? asked Quill.


    Most of it, Egil admitted, entering the scriptorium. He spoke with a slight dialect, a touch of the hignds northeast of Adalrik.


    How much did you understand?


    Some of it, Egil replied and took the seat left vacant by Godfrey.


    Tell me.


    I understood that Alczar is importing a lot of timber. From this, you know that there will be war. And with the king and his son dead, his grandson is to rule, but the nobles will have to elect a lord protector to reign until he is twenty-one and can be crowned. As Egil spoke, his fingers hovered over the chessboard. Finally, he chose a footman and moved him forward one space to threaten Quills knight.


    Why would Alczar need to buy uprge quantities of lumber?


    They are a small city-state in the southernnds. They do not have the forests we do in Adalmearc.


    But for what do they need it? asked Quill. Egil was silent for a moment as he pondered this.


    Deep keels! They need it to build ships. And ships for the open sea need deep keels to be stable in rough weather. They are building a fleet for war, Egil finally realised.


    Yes. Thankfully, it is slow work, especially if they can get no further timber from Adalmearc. The realms will have some years to prepare, Quill said. He picked up his knight, began to move the piece, and then stopped. He almost ced it elsewhere, stopped again, and finally settled it back in its old position to contemte another move.


    But there will be war? Egil asked.


    At some point there will be, yes. Now go practise your letters in earnest.


    Yes, master.


    ~~~~


    It was still some weeks until summer solstice, and most people were dying the journey to Middanhal until thest few days before the celebration. Some of the more devout pilgrims were already entering the city, however, slowly filling its streets with people, its inns with guests, and the purses of its merchants with coin. Some of these had their own shops and ces of trade dotted around the city, while the smaller vendors had their stalls and goods on the Temple square. As pilgrims and travellers filtered into the city, all of them bound for the Temple, they were forced to run the gauntlet through the traders eagerly hawking their goods.


    Two men strode through the crowd and across the square, approached by none. Even other pilgrims, who likewise aimed for the Temple, stood aside to let them pass through. Both wore armour with longswords strapped to their side and held helmets in their hands. Their surcoats proimed them soldiers of the Order with the seven-pointed white star on ck. The man in front was of average height and had golden spurs on his boots; his cloak was deep red with strong ck threads woven into a pattern. Neither young nor old, he walked in the prime of his manhood with a strong stride.


    Behind came the knights taller attendant. Given the attendants young age, one could deduce he was a squire in training to be a knight as well one day. This was confirmed by his spurs, silver in colour; his cloak, too short for him and with faded silver threads set in dark blue, drew some stares. The two men had left their horses at the city gate in the city guards stables to enter the city and approach the Temple on foot as was custom. Now finally, after months of travelling from Alczar, they passed beyond the edge of the marketce on the Temple square and reached the stairs of the Temple itself.


    The stairway was carved from the white stone of the quarries in Heohlond, and it led up the final inclination of the hill around which Middanhal was built. At the top, the stairs were nked by tall marble pirs on either side. The pirs supported a roof extended forward, covering the small distance from the top of the stairway to the Temple building. The entrance had a great door, but by custom, this was always open to allow admittance or sanctuary to all. On each side of the entrance stood a Temr knight, recognisable by the ash tree on their surcoats; they were the most elite of the knights of the Order, who took vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Their mere presence ensured order among the devout entering the Temple, even on days of celebration when multitudes would seek to enter. The knight and his squire nodded slightly in polite greeting as they passed by the Temrs, though the sanctified knights did not reciprocate.


    Inside, the Temple was illuminated by daylight. This was achieved by the great dome in silver and white stone that crowned the main Temple building; it reflected and refracted the sunlight, which was caught by pale surfaces and sent into the Hall of Holies. From the entrance, another series of pirs nked the believers ascendance towards the altar. It was hewn from arge b of marble, retaining its square shape with depictions of events before the creation of Adalmearc running along all four sides. The top side, which reached the height of a grown mans thigh, was t, however; smooth and unadorned except at the centre. Here, a pair of hands had been sculpted from the marble with the wrists extending upwards with the surface of the altar serving as its pedestal. The hands touched at the base of the palms and then spread out, fingers raised in the air. They gave the image of prayer or supplication, though it might also look as if they had been holding onto a globe that had just been plucked from their grasp.


    Numerous people were kneeling by the altar; though as the knight and squire approached, others soon parted to give them ample room. The knight went first, kneeling before the altar and leaning forward until his brow touched the edge of the cool marble b.


    Thank you, oh Lord of All, that you have safeguarded us for seven years among the heathens, the knight whispered before leaning back. Standing up, he dug out a pouch and ced it on the altar as his offering before moving to the side. Behind him, his squire moved forward to perform the same kneeling gesture of piety. As his lord had done, the squire also took out a pouch of coins. He emptied half the content and ced it on the shrine before returning the pouch to his belt. Having finished giving his tribute, the squire moved away from the altar.


    Behind them, the crowd pressed on to fill the empty room and leave their own offerings of wheat, vegetables, jars of wine, bolts of wool or linen, and whatever else they might have to give. The squire moved over to where the knight was waiting for him beyond the enclosure of the marble pirs. The Hall had alcoves lining the outer walls with shrines for the lesser gods; the guardians of the world who carried out the Alfathers will. Each shrine had a beautifully carved statue in front of a small altar, where likewise offerings were left for those seeking the favour of a particr deity. Before departing, the knight bowed down to kiss the feet of the statue by whose shrine he was standing, depicting a man in armour.


    Since there were constantly people entering the Hall of Holies through the front doors, people usually left the Hall through one of the small doors in the wall opposite the entrance. It led to arge court serving as a garden for the Temple, where the priests grew herbs and a variety of fruit and vegetables. Thanks to the ingenious trapping of sunlight, it was well lit and had tall, strong growths. In the centre was tall ash tree surrounded by a great basin, allowing both pilgrims something to drink and the priests and priestesses something with which to water their garden. Here, the knight and squire paused, flushing the travel dust from their throats.


    When we have reported our return, will we be required to remain at the Citadel? asked the squire.


    You have ns already? asked the knight with a smile.


    My family, the squire said with a gesture. I have not heard word since we left Alczar, and since I am nearly twenty-one


    Of course, the knight replied. I will handle matters at the Citadel. Stay with your kin, and I will send for you when you are needed. I am sure you will have many affairs to sort through.


    Thank you, Sir Athelstan, the squire said.


    Think nothing of it, the knight answered, raising his hand to indicate it was of little trouble. You have been a good squire to me, Brand, I am d to do it. Besides, soon you will not only be head of your house, but a knight as well. You shall have your share of duties soon enough.


    I shall give your regards to my mother, Brand said, and the knight and squire sped each others lower arm in farewell. Then they parted ways; Athelstan headed northwest towards the Citadel, Brand northeast towards the mansions of the nobility.


    Passing through the Templeplex, Athelstan soon found himself back on the Arnsweg and followed it to the Citadel. The guards at the southern gate did not ost him, knowing him to be a knight by his surcoat and spurs. He crossed the courtyard and entered the castle itself. Coming from the south, he had to take the smaller corridors that ran along the edge of the structure, circumventing the areas for the court and nobility. At length he entered the northern part and made his way to the Hall of Records. A host of scribes worked here under themand of the Master of the Citadel, who functioned as the overall quartermaster of the Order. All ie from taxes and thends of the Order and all expenditures were written down and meticulously kept track of. Furthermore, there were detailed descriptions of every campaign the Order had fought, every bag of grain consumed, every horse, sword, and shield supplied. All such information was kept as ordinary records, long lists in big books to which the scribes tended. However, when it came to organising the knights and regiments of soldiersmanded by the Order, the Citadels master had another system.


    While a smaller part of the hall was devoted to desks, scribes, shelves and books, the remainder was kept clear of obstructions. The floor itself had been painted with arge map of Adalmearc and the surroundingnds. Every city, every outpost, every fortress manned by the Order had small wooden fortifications glued to the floor, marking their location on the map. These wooden miniature walls also served as enclosures, inside whichy stacks of blocks. One type of blocks represented knights, squires and sergeants, the other type represented regiments of footmen or archers. Each block had the name of the knight or regiment inscribed upon it. In this manner, any who looked upon the floor map could gain some measure of where the Orders forces were located across Adalmearc.


    Middanhal, thergest wooden city, held hundreds of blocks; each stack was ten high to make it easy to quickly count the exact number. Thusund, the most western of the Seven Realms of Adalmearc, had small fortresses spread across its many isles. Each fortified ind had two blocks for a knight and either a squire or a sergeant, and one block for a regiment of footmen. Back on the maind of western Adalmearc and containing numerous blocksy Herbergja, the principal port of the kingdoms. And far southwest, by the edge of the map,y Alczar. Although it was outside the realms of Adalmearc, it still contained two blocks.


    Sir Athelstan of Isarn has returned from Alczar, the knight informed one clerk. Along with my squire, he added. The clerk rose from his desk, bowed his head slightly, and left the desk area to enter the map. He found Alczar on the floor, picked up its two blocks with the names of Athelstan and his squire on them, and then ced them on top of others in Middanhal. He went to a shelf, found the appropriate book, and took it with him to his desk. With careful movements, the clerk added the information of Athelstans return to the ledger. As the ink dried, the clerk checked the rest of the open pages and frowned.


    That is odd. They must have known you were bound to return, but none have been selected to rece you in Alczar, the scribe said.


    Because we are no longer wee in Alczar, Athelstan muttered. The clerk looked up at the knight, but thetter was already departing the hall.


    Leaving, Athelstan chose another route than by which he had entered and moved through the northern part of the Citadel. Walking its hallways, he encountered many other knights and was often recognised and respectfully greeted. He returned their courtesies, at times stopping for brief conversations, and so it took him a while to reach the northern courtyard.


    During the day, the courtyard often bustled with activity. There was constant movement of people entering or departing on various errands, stable hands taking care of the many horses housed in the adjacent stables, pages and soldiers being trained in weaponry, and squires and knights duelling each other for practice.


    Athelstan paused to watch the duellists. There were numerous men sparring, but eventually his gaze fell on two in particr. One was young and tall, the other of more advanced age and short. They wore only leather armour, but both were sweating profusely as they swung their swords and shields. Blows were traded until the older knight brought his sword low, passing under the squires shield. The blunt edge of his sword struck against the leather, promising to leave a mark on the skin as the squire fell back a few steps.


    Well done, Sir Richard, Athelstan said loudly over the noise of weapons shing from the other fighters. As for you, Nephew, let that be a lesson to you in swordy.


    A lesson that short men should not be trusted, the squire grumbled, discarding his weapons. He moved over to his uncle and sped his hands around Athelstans. But I am d to see you, Uncle. It has been many years.


    It has, Athelstan replied. Hopefully I have returned for good. Sir Richard, well met! he added, greeting his nephews opponent.


    Well met, Sir Athelstan. Have youe to give me the challenge young Eumund cannot? Sir Richard said with a brusqueugh.


    Perhaps soon, Athelstan replied smiling. For today, my only ns are to see my kin. I am only returned just now from Alczar.


    Is that where you were? Sir Richard asked absentmindedly. Then he removed his helmet. It is hotter than a bear in heat today, he said, wiping his brow with his bracer. If you will pardon me, he said and moved over to a barrel of rainwater. He thrust his helmet down, filled it, and drank greedily.


    I see that Hotspur has not changed, Athelstan remarked.


    Not one whit since I first became his squire, Eumund replied. Have you seen father yet? He will be pleased you have finally returned.


    Not yet. I was on my way home to meet him.


    Oh, he is here, Eumund told him. Both father and Isenwald are in the Citadel right now, meeting the dragonlord.


    Both of them? What matter has summoned both the jarl and his heir?


    Marriage, Eumund replied curtly.


    Ah. I recall your father wrote of this. I did not realise they were making arrangements already, though.


    Lord Elis seems bent on forcing it to happen. His final service to ourte king, I suppose, Eumund spected.


    I doubt he can, Athelstan pondered. The king might if he had lived, but your father will not let his son marry a daughter of Vale merely because Lord Elis desires it.


    Now that both Vale and his daughter have met Isenwald, I doubt they will wish to pursue such a union either, Eumund said.


    Mind your tongue, Athelstan said sharply. Then, after a brief pause, I better find your father and brother. We will see each other, he said in farewell and turned around, walking back into the castle.


    ~~~~


    Several of the southern wings in the Citadel had luxurious chambers for nobles residing at court; the degree of luxury was dependent on rank of nobility. While beorns, who were noblemen of the lowest rank, were given simple cells like the knights of the Order, margraves andndgraves could expect more. Besides that, while all four jarls of the realm had their own manors in the city, should they wish to live at court, there were entirepartments with rooms for them, their spouses, children, and servants.


    There was one area evenrger and only surpassed by the royal chambers, which was the domain of the dragonlord. It was an old title, originally meant in the sense of the dragons lord. With dragon referring to the king of Adalrik, the dragons lord was thus the kings foremost nobleman; his marshal, as the office was once called in the north, or seneschal as some southerners still styled the title.


    Within the realm he held nearly every power the king did; in the absence of the king, only the Adalthing could overturn his decrees or remove him from position. Thus, with the king dead and until the next assembly of the Adalthing, thendgrave of Elis was the ruler of Adalrik. His current ambition was to fulfil one of thest designs made by thete King Sighelm, to arrange the marriage between the son of the jarl of Isarn and the daughter of the jarl of Vale; this would end many generations of strife and reconciling the two most powerful houses in the kingdom.


    As befitted his high standing and to enable him to conduct the affairs of the realm properly, the dragonlord of Adalrik had an entire wing at his disposal. Somebody seeking an audience would leave the corridors of the castle and enter a spacious, vaulted room with one wall turned into a balcony that overlooked the castle garden. From here, another corridor led down to the antechamber, where visitors might wait before entering the dragonlords study.


    Out on the balcony sat two people on the benches provided. Both were in their early twenties and richly dressed. One was a woman, fair of appearance with dark golden locks; the other, a brown-haired man, was ordinary to look at, though his deep red and ck colours with silver threads proimed his noble birth and wealth. A sword was strapped to his waist with a hilt and scabbard iid with gold and rubies. Sitting on the bench, his fingers continued to fiddle with the hilt and push the scabbard to another position as it hung awkwardly by his side.


    How was your  journey to the city, mydy? the youth asked, speaking with unnatural pauses between his words.


    It was pleasant, thank you, the young woman replied tonelessly.


    Do you look forward to the solstice feast?


    Yes.


    Which part  do you prefer?


    I like the games, she said. The disy of skill.


    Perhaps you would keep mepany when they take ce, he suggested.


    Perhaps.


    There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. You  do have my sympathy, mydy, he said.


    Why is that?


    If my father was not jarl, you would not have to marry me, he spoke with a faint smile.


    If I were not a jarls daughter, would any look twice at me? she retorted.


    Certainly! he eximed. You are more beautiful than  The youth paused, his eyes darting around. Than any of the flowers below, he added while his hand motioned at the garden below the balcony.


    Here I thought rumours imed you were not an eloquent man, she remarked.


    Obviously  I prove  these rumours wrong, he replied, making thedys lips curl upwards.


    At this moment, Athelstan came down the corridor and both the young man and woman turned their heads and rose from the bench. Uncle, the young man said happily. I - did not know you had returned.


    Only today, Athelstan said with a smile as his nephew moved forward to greet him, and he turned to the young woman. Lady Valerie, I presume, he said with a bow, and she returned his courteous greeting. I am not here to intrude, the knight continued. But I was seeking your father.


    He  is in the antechamber, waiting to see Lord Elis  once Jarl Vale and his brother departs. Not too pleased at waiting either. Thest part was added more quietly.


    Thank you, Nephew, Athelstan said. He inclined his head towards Valerie and moved to the antechamber.


    Inside, Athelstan found a bear of a man pacing back and forth. He wore a fur-lined cloak in the same colours as Athelstans, red and ck, but he had no helmet and wore cured leather above his tunic rather than steel armour. He turned and saw the knight enter. Brother, you have returned, he said gruffly, sping Athelstans lower arm.


    As everybody reminds me, the knight replied, and they both used their free arm to p the others back.


    Sooner than your letter said, but not too soon. I could have used you these past seven years, the jarl grumbled.


    I met Eumund in the courtyard, and he told me of your presence here. I was not aware that ns for Isenwalds wedding had reached the stage where the betrothed met, Athelstan said.


    The king made me agree to a betrothal half a year ago, the jarl exined. Elis summoned  summoned!  me here today to conclude matters. He will be sorely disappointed. I have no intention of letting my heir marry the daughter of Vale, nor would I marry Eumund to her for that matter.


    Perhaps it would not be such a terrible turn of event, Athelstan interceded cautiously. The girl seems fine enough, well-suited for Isenwald. Jarl Isarn gave his brother a re, which silenced him. Before any more could be said, the door to the dragonlords study opened. Out came two men, in age and in appearance as stately as the jarl Isarn and his brother, though their colours were red and gold.


    The jarl of Isarn made no sound nor motion, while his brother was more courteous. Jarl Vale, the knight said and inclined his head. Lord Konstans, he said to the brother of Jarl Vale, and both of them returned Athelstans greeting before they had to force their way past the jarl Isarn to exit the antechamber. If either of the brothers Vale were surprised to see Athelstan in the Citadel, they did not give it away. As they left, walking down the hallway towards the balcony, Jarl Isarn and Athelstan heard fragments of their conversation.


    Even with such a promise, I am loath to consign my daughter to this marriage, came a scepticalment from the jarl of Vale.


    Patience, Brother. There is much yet that can happen. Valerie, your father and I are departing, Konstans said with thest part directed at his niece.


    Farewell, Lady Valerie, came Isenwalds hurried goodbye as the members of the House of Vale departed.


    Back in the antechamber, a servant bowed and silently gestured that the jarl Isarn and Sir Athelstan were to enter and to be received by the dragonlord. Although called a study, the room they walked into had plenty of space and furniture for visitors. The servant brought ale for the jarl and his brother as they were seated before Elis. Thank you for your attendance, Lord Isenhart, the dragonlord began. And you as well, Sir Athelstan. I did not realise you had returned to Adalrik.


    Only just, Athelstan said affably.


    I have suggested a wedding date about four weeks from now, a week after summer solstice and the Adalthing, and Jarl Vale has agreed to it, Elis exined.


    I am sure he was eager to bend, but I am not so inclined, Isenhart said abruptly. In fact I no longer see any reason why I should chain my son to a woman from Vale.


    Elis took out two pieces of parchment from a drawer, both of them folded. I anticipated as much and had these papers prepared. One is a promise of what will happen if you allow the marriage to take ce. The other is a promise of what will happen if you do not.


    The jarl narrowed his eyes in suspicion. What do they contain?


    The dragonlord unfolded both papers to show their content. Should you not let your son marry, I have the guilds blessing to increase the tax on all silver minted from one tenth to one fifth.


    A grumble issued from Isenhart, whose jarldom mined the vast majority of all the silver eventually minted in Adalrik. And if I ept this union?


    Elis pushed the other document forward. The guilds relinquish control of the Mint to the House of Isarn. His statement was followed by silence as both the jarl and his brother leaned back in their seats. Controlling the Mint meant no taxes at all when their silver was minted.


    And the guilds have agreed to this?


    There is the aldermans signature and seal, Elis said, tracing it with his finger.


    But not yours, Athelstan pointed out. This document is only valid if it is signed and sealed by royal authority.


    I will sign it on the day the Adalthing convenes, thest day I hold the office of dragonlord, Elis promised. But the transfer of authority must be kept secret until the wedding. Jarl Vale would immediately rescind from this agreement if he found out I promised ownership of the Mint to your lordship.


    What did you promise Vale? Isenhart said, his eyes once again eyeing the dragonlord with suspicion.


    Elis in turn answered with a smile. I gave the jarl monopoly on selling gold to the Mint in Adalrik.


    The dragonlords smile was soon reflected by Isenhart. Very well. We will withhold all announcements until the wedding has taken ce, the jarl said. Elis nodded with a smile and ced the legal documents in his strongbox, locking it afterwards. The jarl and his brother made their farewells and left the study, going out into the vaulted room where the jarls son waited for them.


    Stand tall, my son, the jarl said as the youth hurried up and followed his father and uncle out of the wing. In four weeks you will marry.


    It  is  decided then? Isenwald asked.


    Yes. You will marry the Vale wench, his father answered.


    I  do like her, said the son.


    You can lock her away for all I care, the jarl said. What matters is the Crowns wedding gift. The Mint in this very castle will be steered by our hand.


    Oh, Isenwald said. That  is pleasant enough  I suppose.


    More than that, the jarl said with a vicious grin. For ying their part, the House of Vale will have monopoly on all gold to be minted. I could not have asked for more.


    Oh, Isenwald said again. After a brief moment, he added, How?


    The jarl did not care to answer, so Athelstan did instead. Through its merchants, the House of Vale brings more gold into Adalrik than any other. If none but they are allowed to have gold minted, they will effectively control all trade with gold. However, if we control the Mint, we set the price in rtion to silver. The very silver we mine ourselves. Seeing no light of understanding in Isenwalds eyes, Athelstan continued. How many silver coins does one gold coin buy?


    Three hundred, answered Isenwald.


    But if we control the Mint, we may decide to pay only two hundred and fifty. We decide the value of goldpared to our own silver. The monopoly promised by Lord Elis to Jarl Vale will be worthless.


    Oh! Isenwald said as it dawned upon him. As they reached the courtyard, the stable hand brought out their horses. Eumund was gone, having finished his sparring. It  does not seem like an  honourable thing to  do, the young man said spectively.


    You think like a boy, Isenhart said with a certain measure of contempt.


    There are many weapons in war, Athelstan said, though I would tend to agree with you, Nephew. Without further words, the three members of the House of Isarn left the Citadel.


    ~~~~


    Inside a carriage bearing the arms of Vale sat the jarl with his brother and daughter. Like many other nobles, they had travelled recently to Middanhal for the solstice festivities and to participate in the Adalthing. He was not as bad as I had thought, Valerie remarked casually.


    That is brave of you to say, my child, replied the jarl and patted her hand.


    Do not worry, Niece, or you, Brother. I doubt your marriage to Isenwald of Isarn is Elis true intent, Konstans assured them both.


    But he has pursued it most vehemently, protested the jarl. What makes you say such a thing?


    Two reasons, answered Konstans. I cannot believe the guilds would relinquish control of the Mint to us. The alderman may have authorised this, but the seneschal has not signed it. For now, he merely showed us a piece of paper with patterns of ink sprayed across it. It holds no actual power. And certainly neither they nor Isarn would ept us, Valerian, with a vested interest in the exchange of gold for silver, to possess such power.


    Konstans shook his head. No, Elis may have promised us the Mint and a chance to snub Isarn and all his silver, but I will not believe it until I have that paper signed by royal authority and in my hand. Remember that the seneschal kept the papers rather than allow us to take them with us. If this is truly a genuine offer, Elis has something else in mind than a marriage, which in truth does not affect him nor mean anything to him.


    But it was King Sighelms desire, argued Valerian, the jarl. Lord Elis was his seneschal  still is until the Adalthing convenes. It is his duty to carry out the kings wishes.


    Which is the other reason, Konstans added. Elis may have served the king well, but he has always served his own interests equally. The king is dead, and I do not think Elis cares for the wishes of a dead man. Whatever reasons he has, they have nothing to do with you, Valerie.


    As this conversation unfurled, the carriage sped through the northern city towards the eastern quarter and home of the nobility. Eventually it would reach the grandest mansion in Middanhal, the home of the jarl of Vale in the capital. On its way towards its destination, the carriage overtook a squire of the Order walking on foot. Soon after, it passed a house that was dwarfed by the manors surrounding it and scarcely better than what most sessful merchants could easily afford. The squire, however, did not pass this house; instead, he stopped in front of its gate. It had an insignia of a dragon and eagle in flight with their talons locked inbat with each other. The insignia had once been gilded upon the wrought iron gate, but any trace of gold had long since faded.


    Brand pushed the gate open and entered the gardens surrounding the house. The grass and flowers were not kept, but the trees were blooming with fruit. He reached the front entrance and knocked hard. Soon after, the door was opened by an elderly man in the attire of a steward. Yes, milord? he asked.


    Your master is home, answered Brand, and the stewards eyes widened before he opened the door fully and stepped aside to let Brand enter.


    Mdy told me you would return, milord. We are blessed to have you home.


    Thank you. Henry, is it not?


    Precisely, milord. I am honoured you remember, the steward said as he removed Brands cloak and received a sword belt, helmet, and travel bag in return.


    Why are you at the door and not one of the servants? It hardly seems they are busy today, Brand asked as he looked around the entrance hall. It was dark, and there was no sound of people moving about anywhere in the house.


    There is only me for the task, milord. Theres me, the cook in the kitchen, and herdyships maid. I shall inform herdyship of your return, Henry said, moving with surprising agility for his age.


    Brand remained in the hall, looking at the portraits of his ancestors. Some daylight managed to enter and illuminate sufficiently that he could find one particr portrait and study it. A que proimed that it depicted Arngrim of House Arnling and showed the years of his birth and death.


    Brother! came a voice from upstairs. The hallway of the upper floor was open towards the entrance hall, giving Brand full view of a young woman moving towards the staircase and descending towards him. She had the same dark hair and pale skin as Brand did, and she appeared tall amidst her surroundings.


    Well met, Arndis, Brand said as she reached him, inclining his head. She gave a short bow in return and sent him a smile.


    I am d you are home.


    As am I, answered Brand.


    Is he how you remember? she asked, ncing at the portrait.


    I have only a hazy recollection. Last I saw him, I was seven, Brand shrugged. Last time I saw you as well, Sister.


    Yes, I recall. It was the day after my fifth birthday that you left to be trained.


    Brand nced around. In truth I do not remember much of this house, he said. The dining hall is through there, correct? And the kitchens are down there, and Fathers library there, he continued, gesturing towards different doorways.


    Almost, Arndis said smiling. You switched the corridor to the kitchens for the library.


    I see. I do not actually recall how the kitchens look, I never went there. But I remember the library, it seemed sorge, Brand said absentmindedly. Then of course I saw the royal library at the Citadel and realised Fathers could hardly be called a collection, heughed.


    I would be curious to see the royal library.


    I am on friendly terms with its keeper, Brand told her. Or I was before I left. Perhaps I can make introductions at some point.


    I should like that. I have never been inside the Citadel at all.


    Mother never took you? I thought she had acquaintances at court. Speaking of which, is Mother not at home?


    Arndis spent a moment formting her answer as her smile faded. I wrote you a letter to tell you some weeks ago, but it must not have reached you.


    Brand stood quiet for a moment as he interpreted Arndis expression. No, by then we had already left Alczar.


    I had wanted you to know beforehand so it did not mar your return.


    Brand shook his head. I do not think it would have mattered.


    I am sorry for your loss, Brother.


    As with Father, I knew little of her. But I am sorry for yours. You must have felt it more keenly.


    They both fell silent for a short while. Then Brand extended his arm to his sister. Show me where she rests.


    cing her arm under Brands, slightly awkwardly at first, Arndis led her brother through the house and out the back into the orchard. Between apple trees stood a small sepulchre. Brand opened the door to let his sister enter and followed her afterwards. There was a smell of dust and trapped air, though faint fragrances of incense reached them as well. In one of the alcoves, containing arge stone coffin, were written the names of their father and mother as well as the families to which they had been born. Arndis took hold of Brands arm once more. Weid her to rest about ten days ago. We could not dy any further.


    I understand.


    You are lord of House Arnling now, Adalbrand.


    Brand will suffice when it is you. And yes, so I am. With Mother gone


    There is only you and I left, Arndis finished his sentence. Unless you know of any rtives Mother had in the hignds?


    Brand shook his head. None close that I have heard of who survived the revolt. There is the n, but I do not know if we can expect any help from them.


    I do not think it would have been much different though, had she been alive. She always seemed fragile. Not long after Father died, she simply remained in her chambers. Hardly ever left them.


    Was it you who dismissed most of the servants then?


    All those we could spare, yes. When Father lost the kings graces, it was not well for us. When he died, and Mother lost interest We just did not have the coin.


    You have acted wisely, Sister. I did not know this was the state of things, Brand said. The letters I received. Did Mother ever write any of them?


    I spoke of them with her, included things she would have mentioned, and I read all of yours to her. They seemed to bring her somefort, Arndis borated.


    You were good to do so, her brother told her.


    Arndis hesitated a moment before she spoke. Brand, what are we to do? Even living this way we cannotst forever.


    Brand scratched the stubble on his cheek in contemtion. We are to have Henry shave me, and you may tell the cook to prepare a meal befitting the asion. Once we have a pleasant taste on our tongue and our hunger sated, we will discuss the court and our future fortunes. The king may have disliked our Father, but both those men are now dead. Do you y chess? he asked as he turned to guide her out of the tomb.


    Oh, no, I never learned. I sold Fathers chess setst year.


    Not to worry. In Alczar, my lord Athelstan had a small set for journeys carved as a gift for me, I have it with me. I will teach you how the pieces move while Henry shaves me, and we will y your first match after our meal.


    ~~~~


    Egil, the Quills apprentice, walked from the library tower down to the lower floor and the servants area. Passing through a few corridors, he reached the kitchen. A woman, whose width was equal to her height, eyed him with distrust as soon as he entered; then she threw her head towards a pile of goose feathers before resuming ordering the kitchen servants to their tasks. Egil went over to the pile and examined the quality of each feather. A girl of about fifteen years sat nearby, plucking another goose. When done, she discarded the long wing-feathers into Egils pile. Egil went through them as well, setting some aside.


    When he was done, he took out a knife and made a small cut at the edge of those he had chosen. Then he took out a small bottle of ink from a pouch by his belt and a few strips of parchment. One by one, he tested the feathers, how well they wrote and retained the ink until he had chosen the best to serve as quills. Gathering his materials as well as his new feather pens, he got up and nced towards the matron of the kitchen; when she was looking away, he caught the eye of the girl plucking geese. He made a quick gesture with his head towards the door before disappearing through it.


    Going another route than before, Egil made his way out onto the southern wall of the inner fortifications. Below him was the southern courtyard and the outer walls; beyond that was the city of Middanhal. Evening was near, but so close to summer solstice the sun was still visible beyond the western mountains. Where its rays passed through peaks and cliffs, it gave a golden colour to the white walls and towers of the city, not to mention the dome of the Temple that shone in splendour. Egil sat down between two crions, admiring the view. After waiting briefly, the girl from the kitchen plumped down next to him. She had three apples in her hands, one of which she gave to Egil.


    Busy? Egil asked as he took a bite.


    All these knights and noblesing for solstice, the girlined. Whats the point of a feast if it only means more work than usual?


    Same for me as always, Egil said. Dont think my master cares for solstices except for how warmly it means he should dress.


    Well, your master is weird, the girl retorted. With his weird ways from the deep South, and always cooped up in his tower.


    Hes brilliant, Egil said sounding hurt. You should see the illustrations he has made. He can make people look more beautiful in his books than anybody ever has looked.


    Well I never will, will I, the girl replied. Theyre not in the habit of letting kitchen girls into the kings library.


    Someday, Kate, when Im the Quill, Ill show you, Egil promised. Behind them, they heard the footsteps of a guardsman making his round. Kate threw thest apple to the guard, who caught it before he continued, allowing the children to remain on the battlement. Things might be changing real soon, Egil said.


    How so? asked Kate.


    Well, dont tell others, Egil said and lowered his voice. But my master thinks there might be war soon.


    War? Here in Middanhal?


    No, on the west coast probably, in the realm of Thusund. Against Alczar.


    I dont even know that ce, Kate said unimpressed.


    Its  never mind, we might have a war. Think how exciting that would be!


    Well, when is it? I havent heard anybody else talk about it.


    Well, nobody else knows. It probably wont be for a few more years.


    A few more years, Kate repeated, even less impressed. In some ce I havent even heard of!


    You should care, Egil insisted. Who knows how things might change. Much more than just extra work for solstice.


    My guess is they wont change for me, Kate said. When the king died, I was sad when I heard. But nothing really changed. I still had to get up at dawn the next day, fetch bucket after bucket of water, prepare breakfast, and clean tes afterwards. War and all that is for kings and nobles, Egil, not servants like you and me. Nothing ever changes in our world.


    Egil looked out over the city as evening approached and the streets grew calm before he replied. It will change for me, he said as much towards the city as towards Kate.


    I have to go back, or Cook will get mad. I can only take so long in catching the next goose, Kate said, swinging her legs back over the wall and disappearing down into the castle. Egil sat for a while longer before he returned to the tower and his master.

 Chapter 2: When Eagles Sleep

    Chapter 2: When Eagles Sleep


    When Eagles Sleep


    Middanhal


    Godfrey walked through the city to Lowtown in the evening glow. He followed the Arnsweg through the Temple square, down the hill, and across the bridge to the slums. Leaving the wide main road, he entered the winding alleys. Lowtown was trapped between the river and the southern city walls, which meant that houses had been erected wherever possible. The whole district was a maze, which the city guard might patrol but never control. It was easy for outsiders to get lost in the crooked turns and streets of Lowtown, never to be seen again.


    Godfrey walked with firm steps, however, unwavering in his movements until he reached arge building with a sign in front. Upon the sign was painted an eagle resting on a perch and below was drawn a tankard of ale. The name of the tavern was not written anywhere; in ordance with the sign, the locals called it the Eagles Rest.


    It was here that Godfrey turned away from the street and through the heavy oak door to enter the tavernsmon room. He walked over to the counter, behind which the tavern keeper eyed him suspiciously. Godfrey dug out six copper marks and ced them on the table. Two ales, he told the barkeep.


    Thatll be six petties more, he informed Godfrey with a re.


    Six copper per ale? Godfreyughed. The swill you serve isnt worth half that. Come now, Harold, you may think I should pay the outsiders fee, but unlike you I never forget a face or a name. The barkeep grumbled but eventually conceded and filled two tankards of ale. I will also be staying tonight, Godfrey added as he pulled the mugs to himself.


    All full, Harold told him sourly.


    No need for concern. I will be taking that mans room. As he said this, Godfrey nodded towards a man sitting alone in the corner. Picking up his two mugs of ale, Godfrey walked over to the mans table.


    There was something unusual about the man in the corner, though it was hard to pin down the specific reason. He appeared tall, hard as it was to judge while he was sitting down, but men of all heights graced the Eagles Rest. He seemed thin in the strongest sense of the word, which was alsomon for Lowtown. He wore a leather jerkin, which was not unusual among travellers needing extra protection on the road, and he was swathed in arge cloak of un-dyed wool like a nket with the hood pulled up to conceal his face. This was sometimes seen in Lowtown, where not all men were equally reputable and might have reason to keep to the shadows.


    Thest thing of note was the band of linen tied around his eyes, proiming him blind; people whose eyes had been torn out would often conceal the empty eye sockets in this manner. This was also seen at times in Lowtown, where many made their living as beggars and had various disfigurements garnering sympathy. So in truth, none of the individual features was unusual. It was thebination that struck onlookers as odd. Blind beggars rarely wore leather armour for protection. The wide berth that the rest of the tavern patrons gave him, however, suggested that people had chosen to interpret this oddity with caution.


    Godfrey did not seem to share this opinion and sat down. Since the blindfolded man had taken the spot in the corner with his back against the wall, Godfrey now sat with his back exposed to the rest of the room. If you are blind, said Godfrey, what is the purpose of sitting in the corner to cover your back? Then he took a deep draught of the ale he had brought with him.


    I hope you did not buy any of our gracious hosts brew for me, replied hispanion.


    Of course not, I know your taste. They are both for me, Godfrey said, indicating the other mug on the table by nging against it with the mug in his hand. Have you been here long?


    Some weeks. It has not been a charming stay.


    I doubt anybody has ever used Lowtown of being charming, Godfrey pointed out. Had any trouble?


    I had to break a few noses. Incredible the depths to which some would sink, trying to rob a blind man.


    Perhaps you have made them see the light you cannot see yourself, Godfrey said smiling.


    Your understanding of humour remain dismal. I havee as you requested. Will you inform me why?


    I need your help, Godfrey said, putting the mug to his lips.


    That is obvious. It was implicit in my enquiry that I would want details of what assistance you need.


    Im drinking, Godfrey retorted, mming the now empty mug down and exhaling deeply. Ah, that is better. Been thirsty all day and only got one cup when I went to see Quill.


    I am still awaiting an answer.


    Yes, yes. Truth is I am running low on people I trust. Otherwise I would not have needed to ask your help, Godfrey confided in hispanion.


    Still not what I enquired about. Besides, there is no need to justify yourself. I am your aid in whatever capacity you require. Even when it leads me to a ce such as this.


    Godfrey allowed himself a smile. I need you to investigate the princes death in the hignds. I realise it was many years ago, but it strikes me as strange.


    You suspect foul y involved?


    Well, he was ambushed and killed, so foul y seems a fact, not a suspicion. I wonder rather if more is at y than what is ordinarily foul.


    Your attempts at eloquence do not fare much better than your attempts at humour.


    Very well, I will be in. I knew the prince to be a good warrior and sensible man, and he would have travelled with a strong force of his thanes to guard him. Not an easy mark to kill, Godfrey said.


    I know not of this prince, his thanes, or the hignds, so I cannot specte. Coincidentally, myck of knowledge would also make me a rather poor choice to look into this matter, argued the other man.


    If I still had my reeve in Heohlond, I would not need you. But I do not have him, so I do need you.


    As youmand, said the blindfolded man. When should I leave?


    Tomorrow morning. I will require your bed tonight though, if you can make do without.


    I will bring a chair to the room and take my rest in that pose.


    I may also have a guide for you, said Godfrey, emptying the other mug. We will see tomorrow.


    As long as I may leave by then, hispanion insisted. Best I do not extend my stay beyond necessary.


    Tomorrow, Godfrey repeated. For now, I need sleep.


    ~~~~


    The House of Isarn had a magnificent manor in Middanhal that befitted their status and wealth as jarls. There were stables with many fine horses, to whom several stable boys tended. The surrounding gardens served as an orchard, supplying a variety of fruit under the care of skilled gardeners. The front gate was nked by banners with ck swords on a red background; the red colour proimed their house to be of jarl status, and the ck colour was chosen for the iron ore of their home that had also given name to the jarldom. Soldiers with this image on their surcoats kept watch everywhere. Naturally, there were countless rooms, each with their own purpose. One of these was a library with desk and tools for writing as well. It was not often in use, for the current jarl had little time for books and had his own private study for when he needed to carry out correspondence. Nheless, this evening a light burned in the library.


    Athelstan, passing by, moved to investigate and cautiously opened the door. Inside, he found Isenwald sitting by the desk with quill and ink. Seeing this, Athelstan rxed slightly and entered. I thought you were your father. What has you ckening the quill at thiste hour, Nephew? asked the knight.


    I thought  I should write a letter to thedy Valerie, now that Father no longer  opposes  our union, Isenwald answered. But  I keep making a mistake and  I have to start  over.


    If it would not be an intrusion on my part, I would dly lend some assistance.


    Would you? Thank you, Isenwald said relieved.


    Allow me, Athelstan sat, taking a seat on the bench next to his nephew. Let me lead the quill, and you can concentrate on what you wish to say.


    That would probably be for the best, Isenwald admitted and gave the quill to his uncle before pushing paper and ink towards him. Athelstan renewed the ink and began to write.


    <em>To thedy Valerie of the House of Vale</em>, Athelstan began to write, speaking each word as he wrote it down. Now, what do you wish to say?


    I want to thank her for when we spoke, Isenwald said. So she knows  I enjoyed  it.


    <em>I wish to express my gratitude for the gift of yourpany earlier this day</em>, Athelstan continued. <em>It was of such joy to me I hastened home topose this message to you at once</em>.


    I am d  I will see her again, and  I hope it will be soon.


    <em>It brings me greatfort to know I shall have saidpany again, and it is my fervent desire it will be before long</em>, Athelstan spoke slowly as he wrote borate lines.


    Thats great, Uncle, Isenwald said. She should also know that  I still havent seen any flowers more beautiful than her.


    A poet lurks in your soul, Athelstan said with a smile. <em>I have with great care watched every flower since we were parted and have yet to see any that might rival your beauty</em>.


    Should  I write more?


    Athelstan pondered this. No, it might begin to sound dishonest. I think this is an excellent ce to end your letter.


    Can you sign  it with my name? Isenwald asked.


    Of course, Athelstan replied. <em>With all respect and admiration, I remain your devoted servant  Lord Isenwald of the House of Isarn</em>. He closed the letter and took some red wax, holding it into the candle. Soon after, a few drops were carefully ced on where the letter closed, and Isenwald used his family ring to seal it. He sat with it in his hands, staring at the wax. Something the matter? Athelstan asked.


    I merely wonder  if perhaps  I  overstep my bounds with this, Isenwald said, waving the letter in his hands.


    That is for you to decide, Athelstan told him. The letter is yours to keep or to send.


    In that case, Isenwald said after a moment, I will have a servant  deliver  it tomorrow at first light.


    Let me know when she replies, Athelstan smiled. Until then, we should use the rest of the night for sleep as is intended.


    ~~~~


    The night came and went, giving way to sunrise. While the first light of dawn struggled to reach Middanhal between the mountains, Brand trotted through the streets. He had left his helmet and cloak behind, but he still wore armour, sword, and spurs as sign of his status. Thus, any servants or othermoners quickly moved out of his way as they did for any nobleman or indeed any man with a weapon by his side. Still it took him a long time to traverse the northern city on foot until he atst reached the Citadel and entered it unhindered. His steps took him through most of the castle and up a tower. At his final destination, he gave a forceful knock on the door and waited until a sandy-haired boy of fourteen years opened it.


    I am here to pay a visit to the Quill, Brand said.


    My master is presently tending to matters elsewhere, but he should return shortly, Egil replied, opening the door fully and letting Brand stride into the room. Take a seat if you desire. May I bring you anything, milord?


    No, I will simply wait, Brand answered.


    Very well, milord. Egil returned to his duties, going into the scriptorium where he was sharpening feathers into quills. Brand walked along the rows of the library, ncing idly at the books. Then he also entered the scriptorium where his eyes hovered over the chessboard.


    Brands eyes lit up and he reached a hand into his pocket; inside, his fingers grabbed hold of a small wooden figurine. Are you ying against your master?


    Yes, milord, answered Egil.


    Which colour are you?


    White, milord.


    You seem to be winning.


    Yes, milord.


    Until Quill notices that when he moves his knight, it exposes your footman to his thane. You will have to move to support it or else allow his thane to threaten your king. And then his knight from its new position may move again and threaten both your king and jarl, Brand said, letting go of the figurine in his pocket and finally moving away to inspect the open pages of the book lying on Quills work desk, which the scribe was currently illustrating. Egil quickly moved over to the chessboard and stared at the pieces.


    There was a sound from the outside, announcing that somebody else was moving up the stairs into the library. Why is the door open? came Quills voice from the library hall, and Egil hurried outside.


    You have a visitor, master.


    May I be of service, my lord? asked Quill tentatively as Brand left the scriptorium and joined them. The squire took out a small book that he had been keeping in his belt.


    You lent this to me many years ago. Now that I am once more in your hall, I should wish to return it.


    Brand, Quill said with a dawning smile, grasping Brands hands with his own in greeting before he received the book with the title <em>Song of Sigvard</em>.


    It was of much joy to me, Brand assured Quill. I appreciate that you would lend such a precious item to a boy not yet fourteen years old.


    I knew you would treat it with respect, Quill answered. Come, take a seat and tell me of your years in Alczar.


    I willter, my friend, Brand said. I merely came to return that and inform you I am in Middanhal. I will visit many times more in the near future, now that I shall be staying at the Citadel.


    You intend to live here?


    Brand nodded. With my sister. Why I havee today, to request rooms. I may be sent abroad once I gain my knighthood in a few months, but at least until then I shall be staying close by.


    It will be a delight to have you here.


    Of that I have no doubt, Brand said with a smile. I hear others approach seeking yourpany, so I shall depart. Until we meet again, Brand said in farewell and left the library.


    On the stairs outside that led down the tower, Brand walked past the two men he had heard approaching. One was tall with cloth bound around his head and a staff in his left hand to help guide his way. The other was of average height and less memorable but likewise with a walking staff. Brand stopped momentarily as heid eyes on him, and they exchanged nces before the squire continued down the stairs.


    An acquaintance of yours? asked the blindfolded man as they continued up.


    We travelled some of the distance from Alczar together, Godfrey exined. He must have recognised me.


    Entering the library, they were met by Quill and Egil in the main hall. You have returned, Godfrey, and not alone, said Quill.


    Apanion of mine, Godfrey said. One whom I owe great respect.


    Then I do as well, said Quill, unfazed by the mans beggar-like appearance. What name may I call yourpanion by?


    There was a pause before Godfrey answered with a smile. His name is lfwine.


    Most humorous, muttered the blindfolded man. You are the lore keeper known as the Quill?


    Quill nodded and then added his response in words. Yes, I am.


    An honour to make your acquaintance, said lfwine, inclining his head and supporting himself against his staff.


    And yours, Quill responded politely.


    I have asked lfwine to travel to Heohlond. I would have him look into the circumstances of the princes death, Godfrey interceded.


    It was nearly a decade ago if I remember, said Quill. What do you expect to find?


    I do not know, answered Godfrey, which is why it is necessary to find out.


    Are you well acquainted with the hignds, Master lfwine? Quill asked.


    Not in the slightest, came the answer.


    And so we havee here for help, Godfrey inserted.


    From me? asked Quill.


    From him, Godfrey said, turning to look at Egil.


    From me? asked Egil.


    From you, said Godfrey. Am I not right to detect a touch of the hignd dialect in your speech?


    Egil looked towards Quill, who nodded to him. Thats true, Master Godfrey. I was born there, but I was sent to the Temple a long time ago. It has been six or seven years since I was there.


    Still you have better knowledge than lfwine, Godfrey said.


    He is my apprentice, interjected Quill, and my responsibility. To simply send him away in this manner, with this person Quill did not finish the sentence.


    Egil will be as safe with lfwine as if he were with me, Godfrey stated.


    Can you guarantee his safe return? asked Quill.


    Master Quill, came an interjection now from lfwine, I understand your hesitation, and there are few guarantees in this world. But I can promise you on my honour that I will protect the boy with my life should the need arise.


    That is a promise more solid than gold, added Godfrey. He continued quietly, Quill, I require this.


    As you wish, Quill finally conceded. When do you intend to leave?


    At once, lfwine injected. We will not be staying in this city a moment longer than necessary.


    Quill swallowed, but he did not object. Pack your things, Egil.


    Yes, master. May I go to the kitchen and gather some provisions?


    Yes, of course.


    Egil entered his room adjacent to the library, grabbed a bag, and stuffed some extra clothes in it. He nced around, but there was not anything else suitable to bring on a journey. Therefore, he left his room and the library. As he departed, Egil heard Godfreys voice. After they are gone, you and I must set to work. We need to prepare for the Adalthing.


    Egil hurried to the kitchens. He stopped to rx his breath and then entered, quickly spotted by the watchful Cook. What do you want? she bellowed after him while expertly dismembering a chicken.


    My master sent me to fetch provisions for a journey, Egil said and added, with your leave. Cook did not argue against the desires of the Quill and with a snort gave Egil permission to continue. He ced his travel bag on a table and began fetching bread, cheese, apples, and pears, sending a few nces in Kates direction until she understood. While Egil was slowly packing his food, Kate subtly moved to his side with the pot she was cleaning.


    Where is your master going? she asked with a whisper.


    Hes not, Egil answered in the same low voice. Just didnt want Cook to say no. Its for me, I have to go to Heohlond. The hignds, he borated.


    Why?


    Dont know. Hes never told me to do something like this before.


    On your own?


    No, travelling with somebody. But I dont know him.


    When will you be back?


    Egil hesitated. I dont know. Soon, I hope. There was a brief pause. Honestly, Im afraid. But I cant say no to Master Quill.


    His pack full, Egil could not dy any further under Cooks watchful eye. He lifted up his bag and walked out of the kitchen. A few momentster, he heard running footsteps behind him and turned around. Kate came almost crashing into him, giving him a hug. Come back soon and safe, you dimwit, she whispered, and then she was gone as suddenly as she had appeared.


    Returning to the tower and walking with ever-slower steps, Egil caught voices from inside the library. My reeve was killed in the revolt, so I know nothing since then, he heard Godfrey say.


    Finding the ce should not be hard, lfwine said. But I do not have high hopes that it may yield any fruits of knowledge.


    Egil entered, and three faces turned to look at him. Ready for departure, boy? asked lfwine. Egil nodded in response.


    Be alert, Egil, said Quill. Do all as you are told.


    Yes, master, Egil promised. He swallowed, threw his bag across his shoulder, and followed lfwine out the door.


    Dont you need provisions? asked Egil as he saw no sign that lfwine carried anything.


    "My belt holds what necessities I require for now, answered lfwine and took hold of it with both hands to entuate his im. As he did, the edge of his cloak rippled back and forth, giving Egil a look at the sword hanging by lfwines waist, which he had otherwise kept hidden with his cloak.


    I see, Egil simply answered, and they continued in silence towards their destination to the northeast, the kingdom of Heohlond.


    ~~~~


    Elsewhere in the castle, Brand had gone to the steward of the court. A servant admitted him into the stewards chambers. Yes? the steward said, looking up from his desk with a quill in hand.


    I and my sister of House Arnling wish to take residence at the court, Brand informed him, letting the impoliteness slide.


    Are you here on invitation by the king or simr authority?


    No, Brand said. But given our noble status, such should not be necessary.


    The steward gave Brand a closer look. Many nobles will be arriving soon at the Citadel for the Adalthing. Rooms will soon be scarce, but I imagine a cell for you and one for your sister can be found, he offered, ncing down to finish writing a sentence.


    Cells? As if we were simple beorns? Brand said in disbelief.


    Arnling holds nonded titles, correct? asked the steward rhetorically. The best I can do for your lordship, he continued, emphasising the rank, which made Brand lean forward onto the desk.


    With gritted teeth that made his voice hiss, the squire replied, I am Adalbrand of House Arnling. Atheling of Arn, atheling of Sigvard, dragonborn  are you a fool to not understand this?


    The steward swallowed with signs of anxiety appearing. No, milord.


    Sigvards blood runs in my veins. And you show such brazen disrespect?


    No, milord. Never, milord. Forgive me, milord. The steward closed his eyes in fear as the realisation of his mistake sunk in. People had been sent wood-walking in the past for not showing proper respect towards the blood of Sigvard, first king of Adalrik. Beads of sweat appeared on the stewards brow.


    Our amodations?


    I will have chambers prepared for your lordship and household.


    I expect them ready by this afternoon when we arrive, Brand said dismissively, turned, and left. The steward wiped his brow with his sleeve and looked up to find his servant staring at him with open mouth.


    Dont gawp, you fool! Prepare chambers for House Arnling, the steward snapped, and his servant ran off, leaving the steward to tend to his frayed nerves.


    ~~~~


    The northern part of the Citadely close by the outer defences and the northern gate; in fact so close that should attackers breach the city walls, defenders could let loose arrows against them from the towers of the Citadel. A series of walls and fortified passageways connected the great fortress with the fortifications surrounding the northern gate. Egil and lfwine passed through some of them on their way north, following the remainder of the Arnsweg as it led out of the city. As they were about to exit through the gate, however, they were forced to press against the walls and wait as apany of riders passed through. The rider in front carried a banner in red and white. The red colour proimed thepany to be that of a jarls, and the city guards stood aside to let the jarl and his retinue pass without toll or hassle.


    Behind the first rider rode a man with fur-lined cloak and a ck tunic and breeches underneath his mail armour. It matched his ck hair and reversely emphasised theck of colour in his skin. He was so gaunt that the bone structure beneath was clearly visible with hollow cheeks; on his left hand, the little finger was missing. Behind him came a carriage; further back rode two people dressed more modestly as servants and finally the jarls personal guards.


    As thepany turned west from the gate, a woman poked her head out of the carriage. Brother, why are we going this way? she asked, directing her question to the dark-d, gaunt man.


    Because, dear sister, the Citadel is in this direction, came the answer in a disinterested tone.


    But I am dressed for travel,ined the jarls sister. I cant show myself in court in these rags!


    Your rags cost more than when I had the southern wall repaired, countered the jarl.


    And they are perfectly adequate for when we are at home in Theodstan, dear brother, said the woman. But how do you expect me to appear at court wearing this?


    If I recall, said the jarl impatiently as they rode on, I saw old Gelbold twist his back to load several chests into the carriage. Are you telling me that you sentenced him to a broken back for no reason?


    Of course I have more clothes, Theodoric, do not be difficult. I simply need us to go to the house first and change clothes, and then, the jarls sister said stressing thest word, then we may enter the Citadel.


    As she finished her sentence, the small cortge reached the gates. I fear it is toote, Theodwyn, the jarl said as the guards let them enter the courtyard of the Citadel. But there may be a possible solution.


    Yes? Theodwyn asked eagerly. Her head was sticking out of the carriage, but she kept the rest of herself inside as her brother and the servants dismounted. The jarl moved up to stand next to the carriage door.


    I will find arge sack, throw it over you, carry you inside, and not a single person will see you arrive, Theodoric suggested. Theodwyn gave no answer other than an insulted exhtion of breath before she allowed her brother to help her out of the carriage.


    Since you insist on humiliating me this way, said Theodwyn as she left the carriage, as constion you will have the steward send asters to my chambers.


    Sister, Theodoric objected, asters bloom at harvest time.


    Do they? How nice, Theodwyn answered indifferently. Hearing that his objection had either made no impact or not been understood, Theodoric simply gestured for one of his servants toply. Tell him also that the strawberriesst summer were rather bitter. I prefer a sweeter variety, Theodwyn continued. And I require a room that is northwards this year. Last year there was a dreadful noise from all the ruffians on the streets.


    I hope the stewards in a good mood, said the jarls servant under his breath as he hastened ahead of the procession to pass along the various requests.


    And thicker curtains! Theodwyn cried out after the disappearing servant. Or else this midsummer sun will keep me awake all night, she remarked to Theodoric.


    Indeed, the more you sleep, the better for all involved, the jarl muttered.


    ~~~~


    Whenever caravans from the deep South arrived in Middanhal, it provoked a flurry of activity in the merchants quarter of the city. Especially near summer solstice, when many of the goods were to be sold to the travellers reaching the city within the next few weeks. Some of thergest warehouses belonged to merchants trading under the protection of the jarl of Vale. In return for sharing their profits with the jarl, they received various benefits. Vale soldiers in their red and golden cloaks escorted the caravans and ensured banditry was of no concern. The jarls letters of authority opened doors and eased passages through Adalmearc. Most importantly, the merchants paid no toll for travelling through Valends.


    This particrly came into effect in the city of Coldharbour, which was thest port on the river before Middanhal. All travellers and tradersing from west of Adalrik typically followed the river and would have to disembark in Coldharbour before continuing ovend. This meant that merchants either paid the toll in Coldharbour to the House of Vale or else traded in their employ. Either way, it made the jarl of Vale the richest man in Adalrik, if not all the realms of Adalmearc, and had done so for many generations.


    As a consequence, the warehouses guarded by Vale soldiers were thergest and most numerous in Middanhal. At every gate stood half a score of spear-wielding soldiers; on every rooftop, the same number of archers kept watch. Most of these warriors came from the jarldom of Vale and had families there, just in case the vast wealth they guarded was any temptation. They also kept an eye on the manybourers hauling crates, barrels, chests, and sacks around while clerks kept count and added everything meticulously to lists. One man, whose clothing was of better quality and cut than the rest, walked rounds while he inspected the many wares being moved about and ced for storage.


    Arge portion of the area was dedicated to salt from the mines in Hthiod, one of the only sources of wealth in that barrennd upying the south-eastern corner of Adalmearc. The man quickly moved past this. Instead, he opened the bags in the next section, where he took in the scents of pepper, saffron, coriander, and cinnamon; all came from the vast spice fields and ntations innds so distant in the southwest, few people even knew their names. Bolts of precious silk from cities south of the Mydlonde Sea, produced in secret ways that were jealously guarded; a ce where the colour of men changed and the women had almond-shaped eyes, it was said. Fitting, perhaps, as sacks of almonds also came from there.


    The man inspecting crunched a few almonds between his teeth before returning to the silk, letting his hands slide over the soft material; even in the somewhat dark storehouse, it was lustrous to the eye. A bolt of this material was worth a small farm with apanying fields, and the overseers fingers trembled slightly before he ced the lid back onto the crate. He moved onto a small chest and opened it almost with reverence. Inside were bars of a rough and unrefined nature. Gold.


    As with so much else, they came from mines in the deep South. All of these items, except for the salt, came from cities and ces far beyond Adalmearc. They all passed by sea or river ornd to Alczar and then across the open sea to Adalmearc. The gold had impurities, and it would be sent to the Mint in the Citadel. There it would be purified in great furnaces and minted into coins. The Crown kept one tenth and returned the rest to whomever had delivered the gold, which for the most part was one of the merchants working for the House of Vale. Some of the gold would also be made into jewellery by the skilled craftsmen that Middanhal could boast of, and it would in part be traded back to Alczar along with many other fabricated items; tools, mostly, since it was forbidden to export arms or armour made of Nordsteel out of Adalmearc. Iron ore and marble bs were also rare in the South and passed this way through Middanhal.


    Thest remaining piece of this tapestry of trade was silver. The vast majority of all silver in the known world was mined and minted in Adalmearc, and most of it was controlled by the House of Isarn. However much the House of Vale might dislike it, silver was the lifeblood that tied everything together. Silver marks with the dragon of Adalrik imprinted on one side and the eagle of Adalmearc on the other were epted as coinage everywhere. Gold was far too rare and expensive to be usedmonly; one single gold crown represented more than a months pay for thebourers who shuffled around the warehouses. Gold was for kings and powerful noblemen to hoard, for merchants to carefully umte in their strongboxes. Silver was what made the wheels turn, the sun rise and set, and kept the world going.


    Master chambein, one of the clerks said to the man performing the casual inspection, the records are nearly ready for your approval.


    The chambein walked over to where the scribes had been recording every bag, crate, and chest entering the warehouse. Are you new here?


    Yes, master, answered the clerk. Andrews my name. Heres the new list, master.


    Andrew gave the list to the chambein, who thenpared that list with the one from the House of Vales clerks in Alczar and ensured that the two matched and all goods were ounted for. Thisst entry on the Alczar records mentions a smallbox containing seventy gold coins, he said to one of the clerks, pointing at the writing. On the opposite, new list, this entry was still nk.


    Yes, master. The others told me to set it aside for you to take with you and not enter it into the list until your approval, the servant said obediently.


    You did well, said the chambein.


    Both me and Conrad counted them and found seventy. Do you wish to count them yourself, master?


    That will not be necessary, the chambein said. But since the coins are of foreign make, we will have to melt them down and have them re-minted here in Middanhal, so only write sixty-three coins on the list.


    The scribe frowned. But will it not appear that seven coins are missing?


    The chambein smiled. Since you are new, Andrew, I will exin. When we take these seventy coins to the Mint to have them melted and imprinted with the dragon and crown of Adalrik, the Mint will keep one tenth for its trouble. We will thus only have sixty-three coins. A hefty price, but the House of Vale dly pays its due.


    I see, Andrew answered, still frowning. The chambein continued to smile and stare at him until Andrew hesitantly dipped his quill in ink and added the words smallbox, sixty-three gold coins to the list.


    Good man, the chambein said, grabbing both the new list and the box. Then he went outside where a carriage and driver waited for him.


    Once he got inside and the carriage set into motion, the chambein opened the strongbox. He counted out seven gold coins in his hand, ced them in his pouch, and returned the rest. Then he leaned back and waited as they drove through the city, crossing it to the north-eastern district. The gate to a magnificent manor was opened, and they entered. Lush gardens,rge stables, guards everywhere, countless rooms for every conceivable purpose and with red and golden banners in sight from every angle.


    Papers in one hand and the box under the opposite arm, the chambein entered the house and moved through the corridors until he reached the jarls study. He knocked softly and opened the door himself without waiting. Inside, the jarl of Vale sat by his desk with piles of parchment in front of him. Arion. Are the caravans ounted for?


    They are, milord, answered the chambein. I checked the records myself and they match, he said as he presented the papers in his hand.


    Good, good, said the jarl. We must be careful, must we not? When eagles sleep, rats will reign, as the saying goes.


    Indeed, milord, replied Arion. Your reeve sent another box of Alczar gold coins as well, milord, he added and ced the small chest on the desk. Profits continue to rise.


    That is tenth year in a row, is it not?


    Eleventh, milord.


    Really? You are most likely right, Arion. You always are in these matters.


    Thank you, milord.


    Enough work for today. Go take your meal, and tell the servants to bring you a sk of Ealond wine, you deserve it.


    You are too generous, milord.


    The jarl waved his hand dismissively. With the caravan in Middanhal I can afford it. You may leave me.


    Yes, milord, the chambein said and bowed deeply before he left to collect his reward.


    ~~~~


    As the afternoon waned, a cart drove into the northern courtyard of the Citadel. Brand jumped down from the seat in front and helped his sister and her maid down. Then the young squire summoned the assistance of a few stable hands, some to take the horse and cart, some to take their luggage. The only item he carried himself was a horsemans shield, triangr in shape; it showed a golden eagle on blue background. The colours were faded, however, and the shield showed signs of wear. You may go home, Henry, Brand informed the old steward, who had driven the cart. Look after the house while we are away.


    Yes, milord, the servant replied.


    I can feel their stares, Arndis whispered to Brand, who smiled in reply.


    Let them if they must. We are dragonborn, you and I. That matters more than all the servants, carriages, fine clothes, and whatever else might impress these people, Brand answered.


    Even so, I wish our clothes were a little finer. Come along now, Jenny, Arndis said with thest part added to her handmaiden, who was looking around wide-eyed.


    After a brief visit to the castle steward, who with much bowing and scraping led them personally to their chambers, the brother and sister of House Arnling could install themselves. The first room they entered was a parlour where visitors might be received. Adjacent was a bedroom chamber for each sibling, which in turn had a smaller, adjacent room for their servants.


    This is adequate, Brand said after ncing around.


    The hearth will be pleasant in winter, Arndis remarked as she returned to the parlour after having inspected her private chamber.


    Indeed. Now at least we may eat and live at the Crowns expense, Brand said with a smile.


    Brand, I know you said it is not important, but it is noticeable that our attire does not match our status. Mine especially, Arndis said with an increasingly serious tone. It is not merely a question of my pride. I would not mention it unless I thought it mattered.


    Brand nodded. Yes, I will not argue. I will find coin somehow, and you may have what you deserve.


    I have faith you will, Brother, Arndis said. Leaving that aside, now that we are at court, what should we do next?


    We must keep our eyes open, Brand told her. There must be opportunities. I need a position befitting my rank, which will ensure both ie and influence. Both of which may help us secure you an advantageous marriage.


    Still some years until that bes relevant, said Arndis, barely neen years old. What of you, Brother? You are just about of eligible age.


    Brand ran his hand through his hair. True, but until I am knighted and given a post, my future seems uncertain. If I cannot secure a position in advance, I risk being sent to some forsaken outpost. For now I do not hold many advantages in securing a good match, he admitted. I may yet suffer another seven years innds as distant as Alczar. But if such is to happen to me, I should wish to see you engaged in a promising match that spells safety for your future. He was silent for a moment. Should something befall me, you will be all that is left of our house. Your children alone will carry on our forefathers legacy.


    Surely nothing ill could happen to you? Arndis eximed. The realms are at peace, have been for some ten years.


    War is like a river, Brand answered, his fingers idly ying with a knotted leather string hanging around his neck. We may suppress its flow, but eventually it will break through and do so with greater force.


    ~~~~


    While the courts side of the Citadel was slowly filling with visitors for summer solstice and the Adalthing, the Orders side was likewise busy. Many knights returned from their seven-year postings around this time so that they might also participate in the festivities. Due to the short summer nights, this season was popr among squires for holding their vigil.


    This tradition took ce in one of the small sanctuaries found throughout the Citadel. Before being knighted, a squire was required to spend the night in vigil, meaning prayer and contemtion upon his vows and duties. Having recently be twenty-one, the time hade for Eumund of the House of Isarn to go through this rite. That was the custom for second sons in Adalmearc; Isenwald as the eldest would inherit the position as jarl, Eumund as the younger would be a knight. He stood outside the door to the shrine, wearing full armour, red-ck cloak, sword around his waist, helmet in his hand, and silver spurs on his boots. He paced back and forth, asionally ncing at the window in the corridor. Outside, the sun was dwindling.


    Finally, heavy steps in the distance proimed that somebody short and heavy-set was walking up the stairs. After a moment, Sir Richard of Alwood came into sight. You are very nearlyte, Eumund admonished him.


    All in good time, Richard replied. In his one hand, he held a great jar.


    Are you drinking?


    You want me awake to receive you when you finish the vigil, do you not? asked Richard rhetorically. Eumund raised his eyebrows but otherwise made no reply.


    The sun is nearly setting, he said instead. I am ready.


    Well then, good. Now how do the words go Richard said absentmindedly andughed as he saw Eumunds expression. I jest, boy, only a jest. He cleared his throat. Eumund of the House of Isarn, born to Isenhart of that house, why have youe to this ce?


    To enter a squire and leave a knight, Eumund replied.


    Have you done your duty as a squire?


    I have.


    Will you do your duty as a knight?


    I will.


    Then enter and spend the night in vigil, Richard finished. Eumund bowed his head to the knight, turned, and entered the sanctuary. Behind him, Richard walked over and sat down in the corridor window, settling in with a big gulp from the jar.


    The room that Eumund entered was small and barely furnished. It had a small window turning east, but barely room for more than a handful of people to standfortably. The ceiling was also low, almost forcing worshippers to bend their necks as soon as they walked in. There was only one item in the room, the small altar opposite the door, which turned the room into a shrine. It was not dedicated to the Alfather, since such was not allowed anywhere but at the great Temple.


    Instead, like every other shrine in this part of the castle, it was consecrated to Rihimil. The Ruler of Heaven, The ck Knight, the Warrior, Protector of Man, The Lord of Dragons and many more names and epithets. His name was invoked more often than any other gods, especially in Adalrik and among the knights of Adal, both of whose patron he was. The altar itself was simple, a square stone serving as pedestal for a carved figure of an armoured warrior with sword and shield. The base had carvings depicting Rihimil in battle with a dragon. Eumund drew his sword and ced the tip on the ground; before the altar, he knelt where thousands of squires before him had done so in years past.


    When night falls, the squires vigil begins, Eumund recited. When dawn rises, so does the Knight. In peace, a Knight is vignt. In war, a Knight is fearless. In life, a Knight is true. In death, a Knight is honoured, he said, speaking the first half of the pledge. He paused, licking his lips. It took him a few moments of concentration before he finally continued.


    I will not rest while battle stirs. I will not flee where others fight. My Life and Word are not twain. My Death and Honour shall be one. When night falls, my vigil begins. When dawn rises, so do I, Eumund said, finishing the Squires Pledge. He waited a while; then he started reciting the pledge anew.


    Eventually he stopped and nced outside. It was still night with scarcely any moonlight. If he twisted his head a little, he could see stars. Dawn would still be hours away, though. Eumund took a deep breath, exhaled, and began reciting the pledge again. Eventually he closed his eyes while his mouth continued to mumble.


    Eumund woke when a rooster crowed in the distance. He almost fell down from his kneeling position and nced outside. The first rays of the sun were struggling to reach the chamber. The night and his vigil were over. With sore knees, Eumund managed to rise and sheathe his sword. He bowed before the shrine and left the chamber. Outside, sitting in the windowsill, Sir Richard awaited him with an empty jug lying on the ground. The knight jumped down and joined Eumunds side. Right, let us finish this, Sir Richard said. Eumund of the House of Isarn, born to Isenhart of that house, have you kept your vigil?


    I have, Eumund said, keeping his voice steady.


    Are you prepared to take the knights oath?


    I am.


    Good. We will have the lord marshal make a knight of youter today. Now, though, Im hungry as a bear in springtime.


    ~~~~


    The knighting ceremony or de of the Order had evolved over time and be much more intricate. In the earliest days, knights or the king himself had simply knighted worthy men of rank on the battlefield after a victory. As the Order had grown and be far moreplex, however, so had the necessities for bing a knight. Now boys spent seven years as pages, seven years as squires, and finally a night in vigil before the de. The king rarely had time to knight squires anymore and only did it as a sign of favour towards his most important noblemen if the squire happened to be one of their kinsmen. So even in Adalrik, just as it was custom in the other realms of Adalmearc, the marshals did the knighting. As son of the jarl of Isarn, Eumund might have been granted that the king himself touched his shoulders with the de, but naturally, that was not possible under the circumstances.


    Instead, the lord marshal and his right hand, the knight marshal, were standing in one of the shrines to Rihimil in the Citadel. Unlike the room where Eumund had kept his vigil, this space sanctified to the god was muchrger, easily allowing for the presence of several men. The marshals were there, Richard of Alwood was present as was Athelstan and of course Eumund. Thetter was kneeling in front of the altar having just finished swearing the Knights Oath. The lord marshal, Sir Reynold, stood in front of him with his sword drawn. He lowered the t edge down towards Eumunds left shoulder.


    In the name of the King, whosemand we follow. The de touched down.


    In the name of the Order, whose codex we follow. The right shoulder.


    In the name of Rihimil, whose example we follow. Eumunds left shoulder again.


    I name you a knight, Reynold finished and withdrew his sword, sheathing it.


    Athelstan gave his nephew a broad smile while Richard yawned and blinked a few times. Eumund stood up, smiling and receiving the congrattions of the others present. As his uncle, Athelstan had requested the honour of cing into Eumunds hands his two golden spurs, signalling his new rank. Eumund extended his left hand first, and Athelstan ced one spur onto his nephews open palm. Then Athelstan repeated his gesture into Eumunds right hand; finally, the former squire closed his hands into fists and could feel the sharp edges of the spurs. His attire and appearance would otherwise be unchanged, but the small difference from silver to golden spurs was enough to dere it to the world. Eumund, born to Isenhart of the House of Isarn, was now a knight of the Order of Adal.

 Chapter 3: Young Mans Folly

    Chapter 3: Young Man''s Folly


    Young Man''s Folly


    Middanhal


    As the days passed, the feast of summer solstice drew near. The city became packed with travellers, and every room was upied. There was a constant stream of pilgrims entering the Temple and the Hall of Holies, and the priests received countless gifts and offerings. The many peasants from the countryside mostly gave food or cloth, which they grew or produced on their own plots ofnd. City-dwellers typically gave coin as they could spare it or items made by their craft. A cobbler could leave a pair of shoes, a potter might ze his best work and ce it on the altar, while a weaver would bring a tunic as an offering. The priests took what they needed to feed and clothe their own members, and they spent the coins on buying what else they required. The rest, primarily the food and items of clothing, they distributed among the poor. This was mostly done by the beggar priests in Lowtown, named this way either because they tended to the needs of beggars or because they often were beggars themselves, asking for alms they might give to their flock.


    The Temple was open every day of the year, and people might give offerings whenever they saw fit. When summer solstice came, however, it was custom that all appeared to bring a gift to the gods. All over Adalmearc, people journeyed to the cities and temples. Any temple for any deity might suffice, but it wasmonly understood that ones gift held particr reverence when given to the only temple dedicated to the Alfather, the Temple in Middanhal. Thus the vast pilgrimage when even the poorest of paupers came to stand in line at the Temple, kneel at the altar and touch its edge, leave their tribute, be blessed by the priests, and leave again. For the poorest, such tribute would probably be a single copper coin; since the priests giving service at the Temple carried purses of copper coins with them which they gave to those who seemed most in need as they passed through the Temple, some might leave with as much as they came.


    On the actual day of solstice, the Temple square would be cleared and scaffolds raised for the games and festivities. Until then, with so many people crowding around the Temple, the traders and vendors were feverishly trying to sell as much as possible. Even the nobility might not be safe from being shouted at, grabbed, and pulled towards stalls unless they walked with armed guards to deter anybodying too close. Brand had no such followers and instead relied on his worn, deep blue cloak to ward off the hawkers. As the colour reserved for descendants of Sigvard, this dark shade of blue was rarely seen and made people scramble to stay out of his way. Therefore, where some might have troubles, Brand did not have many difficulties in passing through the throng and returning to his quarters.


    The atrium was empty, so Brand knocked on his sisters chamber door and was admitted. Inside, he found Arndis handmaiden setting herdys hair. Brand took a heavy purse from his belt and emptied it onto the vanity table. A flood of silver pieces and some gold coins gushed forward. Brand! Arndis eximed. Where did you get such coin?


    I borrowed it, Brand said.


    But theres a small fortune here, Arndis said with concern.


    I should hope so, given what I must pay back.


    Father told me I should never borrow money, Arndis said, biting her lower lip.


    I do not intend to emte his fate, so it is probably good I do not emte his methods.


    How will we pay this back?


    That is my concern, Brand said. With the right position at court or in the Order, I shall have plenty. Call for the tailors and dressmakers, have them make what you need. He unsped his cloak and draped it across a table. Tell them to make a new cloak like this, fitted to my height and exact same colour. One for you as well. There must be no doubt that we are worthy to wear the blue.


    ~~~~


    As the noon sun shone down on the Temple square, the masses seemed to simmer in the heat. Crowds of people gravitated towards stalls and peddlers offering food and drink. Still the main direction of movement was north, up the Temple stairs and into the Hall of Holies. A group of green-cloaked men, some nobles, some soldiers, escorted a woman through the other people who had likewisee to offer tribute to the gods. Despite the densely packed crowd, the guards were able to push forward, led by a man in expensive armour and attire. Near the steps, a group of youths hung about, sitting or standing by one of the tall pirs. Their cloaks had the deep red colour of a jarl along with the ck swords of Isarn. They seemed to have been idling the time away, but when they spotted the group in green, one of them alerted the others and jumped down from his elevated position to stand near the stairs. Hisrades quickly followed his example.


    Both groups now stepped onto the stairs. However wide the steps were, with so many other people moving forward, there was simply not room for both parties. The currents in the crowd threatened to pull members of either group apart from their fellows, so the soldiers and the youths quickly found themselves busy pushing people back with neither able to advance.


    Why now! What a sight, spoke the leader of the red-clothed group cheerfully. Commoners in green cloaks who seek to step in front of their betters.


    I am taking my sister to prayer, answered the green-cloaked leader, scarcely older than his opposite. You will step aside and let us pass.


    And in what world, Alexis of Jaunis, for I do recognise you, should the offspring of a margrave take precedence over the kinsman of a jarl?


    Normally not, interjected the woman escorted by Alexis, but your sins are so many and well-known, Athelgar of Isarn, that if we are to wait until your prayers are finished, solstice will be over long before.


    She speaks! came the reply from the red-cloaked youth. If you wish to add to my sins, mdy, I am at your service. Merely a nce at your face inspires me to several, Athelgar added boldly.


    Be silent, Alexia, fumed her brother in his green garbs. As for you, you iron g, you will not speak to or of my sister, understood?


    Come now, good Alexis, taunted Athelgar. If you are so intent on seeing your sister to prayer, there is an easy solution. I shall go first as rank prescribes and take her with me while you wait behind. When we are done, I shall return her to you in good condition, no worse than if a mare is taken for a ride and returns to the stable.


    There was a faint hiss as Alexis de touched the leather lining of his scabbard on its way up. Behind him, the soldiers wearing green colours lowered their spears in anticipation ofbat. Draw your sword or withdraw your words, Alexis said with rising anger.


    Do you seek to quarrel, my lord? Athelgar said smiling, his right hand moving across to grab the hilt of his sword. Do you give me asion?


    You have insulted my familys honour, Alexis managed to spit out between gritted teeth, raising his sword and pointing it at the man of Isarn.


    And you have whetted my appetite, Athelgar replied and drew his sword as well. Behind him, hispanions did the same.


    As this spectacle unfolded, those nearby had shied away, but many had remained in the vicinity to watch. Now that weapons were readied, however, people began to panic. Yet all the while, others pushed forward to enter the Temple, unable to see the reason why people were not moving. So now, the square exploded inmotion asmoners fled in every direction and shed together while green cloaks shed with red. Steel struck steel and screams tore the air. Although the city guard was well represented at the square, they were unable to push through the stampeding crowd. Still Alexis circled around Athelgar with murderous intent in his eyes whilst his adversaryughed with each stroke of the sword.


    It allsted a handful of moments. Two knights in full armour came sprinting down the stairs brandishing two-handed swords and used the pommels to knock thebatants down until either group realised that a third party had entered the fray; unlike the youths and soldiers, they were warriors in the truest sense of the word. Lower your weapons! yelled one of the Temr knights. This disturbance is over! You will sheathe your swords and surrender to the guards, or I shall cut down everyst man with impunity!


    As he said this, the knight raised his sword against Athelgar and his band ofrades; his counterpart did likewise with Alexis and the soldiers of the House of Jaunis. Everything tensed for a moment, and both sides could be heard breathing heavily and weighing their options. With a smile, Athelgar sheathed his sword, and after brief consideration, Alexis did likewise. With the danger over, panic was reduced and the horde of people became calm enough for the city guards to reach the site of the altercation.


    Take their weapons, said the Temr knight. Alexis began protesting, but he was silenced by the knight. Take their weapons! the Temr roared as a challenge, and this time none spoke against him. They have broken the peace. Take them to the captain and let him pass sentence on these young fools, the knight said with disdain. The guards did as ordered, disarming the young noblemen. Bymand of the Temrs, the soldiers of Jaunis were given leave to escort theirdy from the square; the knights deemed their only crime to be loyalty to their lord, and any punishment should befall him.


    ~~~~


    One of the hallmarks of a knight was his ability to keep formation during a mounted charge. Even on foot, it was difficult to stay in line when charging forward next to your fellow warriors; discipline was easily lost, which could turn the charge into chaos. The difficulty was doubled when on horseback, so the knights and squires drilled nearly daily to perfect their horsemanship and be able to fight as one. This required much more space than was avable inside the city, naturally, since they had to ride long distances and at great speed to simte charging into battle.


    Just north of the cityy severalrge pasturesmonly referred to as the Fields of War, or simply the Fields. Here, horses grazed in great numbers to supply the Order of Adal with steeds, and its soldiers could practise their mountedbat. Newly knighted, Eumund practised with more fervour than anybody else as he drove his golden spurs into the nks of his horse, proving himself worthy to wear them. He and the other knights had been drilling all morning, and with the sun now high and hot, they had decided to allow themselves and their horses some rest. They let the beasts drink from a nearby brook and then rode them back into the city and the Citadel.


    Once in the courtyard, some of them left their horses with the stable boys. Others like Eumund, particrly those who owned their horse rather than using one belonging to the Order, stayed outside to tend to their mounts. Thus, Eumund was in the courtyard grooming his horse when an unexpected sight paraded past him. A patrol of city guards, some holding sword belts in their hands, escorting a group of youths. Athelgar, Eumund called out as he recognised one of the young noblemen in red and ck. What is happening?


    A misunderstanding, Athelgar yelled back. Get your father!


    And make matters worse? Eumund said as much to himself as to any other. He summoned a stable boy to finish taking care of his own horse, retrieved a fresh one from the stables, and rode it bareback out of the courtyard.


    He galloped through the city until he reached the estate of the House of Isarn. Recognising the younger son of the jarl, the guards quickly opened the gate and let him through. In a fluid movement, Eumund slid down from his horse and let a stable hand take control of the beast. Get a saddle on him, Eumundmanded, and saddle another horse as well. Then he ran inside, going from room to room until he found his quarry.


    Uncle Athelstan, he said as he tried to regain his breath, Athelgar is being led to the captain by the city guard.


    That fool! Athelstan eximed. He was sitting in his chambers, oiling his sword. What has he done?


    I do not know, but I saw Alexis of Jaunis there as well, and thepany that Athelgar surrounds himself with. The sons of Fathers men, as foolhardy as himself.


    Probably picked a fight, Athelstan spected. If blood was spilled, the captain can have them thrown in the dungeons for as long as he pleases.


    Would he go that far? asked Eumund. Athelgars father is cousin to a jarl. You do not throw the kinsmen of jarls into the dungeons.


    Perhaps not, but it is within the captains rights, Athelstan said, finishing his work. He put the de aside and stood up. If Athelgar ends in the dungeons and disgraces our name, your father will be furious. It is good you found me, he said and hurried out of the chamber, followed by his nephew.


    Outside they mounted the horses waiting for them and rode to the Citadel. Here, Athelstan and his nephew threw the reins to a servant and walked with quick steps through the castle. The quarters of the captain of the city guard were near those of themanders of the Order, and they reached them swiftly. A thick oak door stood open, which let them hear what was spoken in the captains office.


    so close to solstice! You think the kings peace does not extend to you? came a voice thick with fury.


    Which king? asked Athelgars voice. Athelstan groaned as he heard that, and he hastened forward.


    It was not a question which needed answer! I ought to let the entire lot of you spend the solstice in chains, the captain threatened. I am filled with disgust at you young supposed nobles, causing strife in the city. As he said thest words, he paced back and forth in the chamber; this he did slowly, however, since he walked with a limp.


    Good captain, said Athelstan as he reached the chamber. Perhaps nothing so severe is necessary.


    Hallo, Athelstan, said Athelgar with a smile.


    You will be silent until spoken to, Athelstan said sternly and turned back to the captain. Behind him, Eumund entered quietly. Captain Theobald, Athelstan quickly continued. I understand the necessity in punishing them, and punitive geld must be paid. But may I request that further punishment is meted out by their fathers?


    I do not know, growled the captain. If their crime can simply be cleansed with coin, how soon will I have them here again because they have not learned respect for thew?


    I assure you, they will not forget this transgression, Athelstan imed.


    I am certain we will not, Athelgar said with a smirk. Immediately Athelstan turned and pped his cousins son across the face with the back of his hand. It came with such force that Athelgar was pushed back, and only hispanions behind him kept him from falling. All of them, none more so than Athelgar, stared at Athelstan with disbelief.


    When spoken to, Athelstan reminded Athelgar sharply. They will not forget, Theobald, he promised the captain.


    Very well, Athelstan, the captain consented. Out of respect for you and on your word. The geld owed to the king for breaking the peace shall be ten gold crowns, he said, his eyes ncing over the gathering of offenders. Per head.


    Athelgar opened his mouth to protest, but then he nced at Athelstan and thought better of it. Athelstan bowed before the captain in turn. As you say, captain. Come, he said to Athelgar and hisrades. You can exin to the jarl yourself why he must pay a geld of sixty gold crowns.


    As they left, they heard the hitherto silent Alexis voice his disagreement. This is unreasonable. I only defended my sisters honour, what else was I to do?


    Keep the peace, the captain said with anger. Now leave me be. Jarl Isarn must pay six times the geld your father must, consider that justice.


    Ill be surprised if his father can find two coins to rub together, Athelgar said with scorn and a few of his fellows dared tough nervously. Athelstan stopped abruptly and turned to stare into the youths face.


    Was my hand too soft before? he said menacingly.


    No, Cousin, Athelgar mumbled, looking down. I just do not see the cause for your anger. We were merely amusing ourselves at the expense of the Jaunis boy. A southerner, a bootlicker for Vale.


    It matters, Athelstan said as he began walking again, because if you had been thrown into the dungeons, the jarl, your fathers cousin, would have been disgraced. As would your father and you if you have any honour left worth preserving.


    I was defending my honour, Athelgar insisted. He wanted to enter the Temple before me against all that is proper. He had no right.


    I hold no affection for Vale or any of his vassals, Athelstan replied. But boys puffing up their hairless chests like drunken viins in public is not how we defend our honour. You are all of the House of Isarn, and I will make sure your fathers remind you of that. He walked onwards with haste, leaving the group of red-cloaked boys behind.


    That could have gone worse, Athelgar said, smiling at Eumund.


    If you ever endanger my fathers reputation in this manner again, Eumund said, gritting his teeth, I will skin your hide myself and use it to clean my boots.


    Why so angry, Cousin? asked Athelgar confused. It all went well. Your father can easily pay the sixty crowns.


    Are you so thick? replied Eumund with incredulity. The Adalthing is less than two weeks away. The future of the realm may change decisively, in or against our favour, and you strut like a rooster with your petty games.


    I was not aware, Athelgar said more quietly.


    Obviously not, Cousin, Eumund sneered, packing as much scorn as he could into the familial term before he turned and walked away as well.


    ~~~~


    In the gardens surrounding the estate belonging to the House of Vale, the jarls family had a beautiful arbour; since they were primarily in Middanhal in the summers, they often made use of the shade it provided in its lush setting. Valerie especially took delight in it, and she would spend both the hours before and after noon there when possible. Thus, it was not surprising that she was found there when her father went outside to likewise enjoy the shaded refuge. Behind him, a servant came bearing a cup and wine.


    Hallo, child, the jarl said as he sat down, epting the wine.


    Father, Valerie replied, looking up with a smile. In her hand, she held a piece of paper.


    Did you receive a letter?


    Some days ago from Isenwald, Valerie told him.


    You should not be so troubled by him, the jarl said in response. We may yet convince Lord Elis to abandon his design. In truth, when the king died I thought that would be the end of it.


    I see, Valerie replied tonelessly. So how should I reply? For I must write him back, surely.


    Valerian shrugged. Whatever you like. Pleasantries as if you were making idle conversation, I suppose.


    But does he think this way? asked Valerie. Is he also writing merely out of courtesy and nothing more?


    I really cannot say, answered the jarl. But he is rumoured to be slow-witted, so who can tell.


    Valerie opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. From the direction of the house, another person approached. Brother, I was looking for you, said Konstans to Valerian.


    What is it? Something the matter?


    Konstans did not answer, but looked at the letter in Valeries hand. Did a letter arrive?


    For me, a few days ago. From Isenwald, Valerie replied.


    I see. I thought Elis might have written to us.


    You are still convinced he has ulterior motives? asked the jarl.


    That seems certain. I only wonder if his motives are favourable towards us or the opposite, Konstans said spectively.


    Pardon me, Valerie said, getting up and leaving the jarl and his brother to their discussion.


    Back in the house, she walked to the library where ink, pen, and paper might be found. She unfolded the letter from Isenwald and read it again, almost smiling before she stopped herself. Dipping the quill in ink, she began to write.


    <em>To Lord Isenwald of the House of Isarn</em>, she wrote first, pronouncing the words as she penned them. <em>Thank you for the courtesy of your letter. However, I think it prudent that we ceasemunication for the time being until such time</em>  then she stopped. Until such time what? she asked herself. She took a few deep breaths, her eyes ncing over the letter. Then she crumbled it up and started anew.


    <em>Dear Isenwald,</em>


    <em>I was happy to learn that you had written to me. I apologise it took me days to reply. I hope you will forgive me and know it was merely from a desire to phrase my answer properly. While I maintain you tter me baselessly, it is a source of joy to imagine that the sight of flowers may bring you thoughts of me. I hope you will prove to be more decisive than I am where writing letters are concerned and allow me the pleasure of reading your reply soon.</em>


    <em>Yours,</em>


    <em> Lady Valerie of the House of Vale</em>


    Valerie read it through a few times, smiled, and sealed it with wax and her fathers small seal.


    ~~~~


    In the kings library, two men were walking around a table in the scriptorium. They had numerous pieces of paper with names written on them as well as lists of the same names written elsewhere close by. During their conversation, they were constantly rearranging the small slips of paper to simte a majority in different situations.


    Are you certain you have remembered all their names? asked Godfrey.


    Yes, Quill said confidently. These are all the sixty-nine members of the Adalthing.


    Nondgraves forgotten in the corner of the map? The question was asked in an amused rather than earnest tone.


    Thank you, no, Quill said dismissively. I speak all their names each year at the assembly, I remember them well. Twenty-eight from the North, thirty-nine from the South, and two atheling members, Hardling and Arnling.


    Very well then. So thirty-five is needed to make a majority. How is the bnce of power between the jarls? Godfrey questioned.


    Jarl Vale has sixteen margraves, and Jarl Ingmond has eleven. In the North, Jarl Isarn has thirteen, and Jarl Theodstan has seven, Quill borated.


    I do remember that Vale and Isarn stand the strongest.


    Especially considering they are the wealthiest, Quill added. But there is also the matter of geography. The northern nobles are most likely to support Jarl Isarn, while the southerners will support Jarl Vale.


    So Vale holds an advantage, Godfrey said.


    He does, but it is not certain. Thendgraves and the two atheling members of the Adalthing are free to support whoever can afford their allegiance. Question will be if Jarl Vale or Jarl Isarn can sway enough to gain a majority besides any possible support from the other two jarls.


    What of them? Could Theodstan or Ingmond be considering setting themselves forth as candidates?


    I doubt it, Quill said with uncertainty. I know little of Ingmond, though. His father died some years back, and he has not been jarl for long. He is rarely in Middanhal. He dislikes court life and is known as a pious man. Quill gave a slight shrug. My guess would be that he does not hold any interest in the office of lord protector.


    And Theodstan?


    The jarl Theodstan might be the preferable choice, Quill contemted. He is politically gifted and was a highly capable dragonlord in his time. But he also made enemies, and he has been an unwee sight in Middanhal for many years. While I think the jarl of Theodstan would be a good choice for the realm, many might oppose him. Quill hesitated before he continued. To be honest, I think only the jarls of Vale and Isarn stand a real chance. They are jarls and natural leaders in the North and South, respectively. They have the wealth and influence to buy or convince the rest of the Adalthing to support them.


    Precisely why I think neither of them should be lord protector, Godfrey exined. They might easily abuse such power to the detriment of the realm, and none will be able to stop them. Or worse, the other jarls might attempt exactly that and cause the outbreak of civil war.


    If none of the four jarls are an option, there are only thendgraves and margraves left in the Adalthing, Quill pointed out in response. Unless we consider a candidate who does not have a voice in the Thing, which seems a very doubtful proposition.


    A margrave in the shadow of his jarl seems a doubtful suggestion as well, Godfrey argued. Are any of thendgraves a viable option?


    Quills eyes ran over the list. I cannot say. I do not know them well. Except for Lord Elis, of course, our current dragonlord. He may be a good choice to be elevated into the office of lord protector. He is already experienced with the responsibility and may be supported by many.


    It was my understanding that Elis was the kings choice as dragonlord and not the noblemens. Travelling here, I heard manyin about the hefty taxes he has levied. I have my doubts about what support he actually has, Godfrey wondered. In any case, we do not need a great statesman. We need stability. Somebody that both North and South can ept, who will keep the realm at peace until the prince ascends to the throne.


    I admit, no obvious candidatees to mind, Quill said a little anxious. It does not seem possible.


    There is always a way, Godfrey muttered.


    In any case, we require a jarls support, Quill informed Godfrey. Only a jarl may propose a candidate for lord protector.


    I thought any nobleman, even beorns who have no presence there otherwise, might raise an issue in the Adalthing, Godfrey questioned.


    Ordinary issues, yes. But to limit the number of candidates and ensure they have the support of at least one jarl, there are restrictions on an unusual election such as this, Quill specified.


    Well, if the jarls will be needed in any case then the question remains, Godfrey said, which of the four jarls might agree with our purpose?


    There is only one of the jarls I can imagine who would, Quill replied. While hardly a kind or selfless man, the jarl of Theodstan did seem to care about the realm when he was dragonlord. He may not stand much chance of bing lord protector himself, but he will still have an interest in who is chosen.


    Then we will speak with Theodstan, Godfrey determined.


    ~~~~


    The northern wings of the Citadel held spacious quarters for the leaders of the Order. The captain of the city guard had his chambers here, and so did the lord marshal. He was the supreme leader of the Order, beholden to none but the high king. Just below his authority was a marshal in each of the Seven Realms of Adalmearc, who was in charge of the Orders affairs in that realm. That was also the case in Adalrik itself, where a knight served as the lord marshals deputy and was in charge of matters from day to day in Adalrik, much like the dragonlord served the king. To distinguish the marshal of Adalrik from the marshals of the other realms, he wasmonly styled as knight marshal. He had his own quarters and study, naturally, in which Brand had gained an audience.


    I am sorry, young Adalbrand, said the knight marshal. But I do not think your request can be amodated.


    I am trained by Sir Athelstan, Brand pointed out. I am more than capable of such responsibility.


    Sir Athelstan proved his worth in the hignd revolts, the knight marshal retorted. Have you led men? Have you fought in a battle at all?


    No, my lord, Brand admitted, but my mother was from Heohlond. They will be more amenable to me than towards a knight who has no ties to the hignds.


    That may be, but it is the marshal of Heohlonds decision whom he ces in charge of his troops. I am sure he has many fine knights who are up to the task. I have no intentions of overruling him and forcing him to rely upon an unproven squire.


    Brand was silent for a brief moment. As you say, Sir Roderic, he conceded and took his leave.


    Dismayed, Brand returned to his chambers. He sat down and dug out the wooden figurine from his pocket, a king piece from a chess set. Clutching it, the squire remained immobile for a moment, lost in thought. At length he stood up and began changing his clothes. For his audience with the knight marshal, Brand had worn his armour and surcoat from the Order. Now he removed both, although with some difficulty since he had no sergeant to assist him with the armour.


    He stripped down to his inner shirt and put on the courtiers clothes that his borrowed money had purchased, consisting of a doublet made from velvet and a sleeveless silk tunic above it. It was dark blue, naturally. Thus properly dressed, Brand moved through the castle until he reached the great dining hall. The evening meal was already taking ce with many scores if not hundreds of noblemen, from jarls to beorns, and numerous courtiers as well as their rtives.


    At the high seat vacated by his grandfather sat the young prince Sigmund. Behind him standing watch was Berimund, captain of the kings thanes. By the princes side sat his widowed mother, a princess of Hthiod and as dour in her countenance as her native home was reputed to be. On his other side sat Elis. Nearby was also ced the jarl of Theodstan and his sister, who was the only one of the four jarls of the realm to have taken quarters at the Citadel. Lower down sat margraves andndgraves, dignitaries and envoys from the other realms of Adalmearc.


    Below them were seated beorns; they were people of noble standing yet withoutnded titles or much else to their name. It was among these that Brand took his seat next to his sister. In response to her inquisitive gaze, Brand shook his head. No luck.


    I am sorry, Brother, Arndis replied. I thought it made sense.


    It did, Brand told her. Your idea had merit. We will just have to think of something else.


    Perhaps we should seek a position at court for you, Arndis spected. So that you may stay.


    If such is possible, Brand said. Heohlond is not so far away, but if I can stay in Adalrik that would be preferable.


    Arndis gaze slid over the bearlike Berimund, who was known for his feats of strength. You could be one of the kings thanes, she suggested. With your training as a knight, they will be sure to have you, and you will remain here in Middanhal.


    I most likely could be a thane, Brand admitted. But I think my ambition extends beyond being a mere guard, however, even a guard to our young prince and future king. It would barely allow me to repay my debt.


    I had not thought of that, Arndis said. Forget what I spoke.


    Keep thinking, Brand told her as his eyes passed over the thanes. Something wille up.


    ~~~~


    In the afternoon, a servant to the jarl of Theodstan heard a knock on the door. He opened it to find Godfrey and Quill outside. We should like to speak with his lordship, Quill said, and the servant bade them wait before he went to the jarls bedchamber. Inside, he found the gaunt man going through his correspondence.


    Milord, the Kings Quill and  an unknown personage wish to see you, the servant informed the jarl.


    Thank you, Holebert, you may show them into the parlour.


    The servant nodded and quickly left; Theodoric followed, walking into the parlour. Moments after, two people entered. One was easily recognisable with his robe and ink-stained fingers as the Quill. The other was harder to ce. Obviously amoner, d in ordinary cloth that was travel-stained, with somewhat long, straight hair, and with little thought gone into his appearance. He seemed both pale enough to be a northerner yet also tanned enough to be a southerner.


    To what do I owe this visit? asked Theodoric.


    Thank you for seeing us, my lord, said Quill. We wish to speak with you concerning the Adalthing.


    I know the Quill must preside over the Adalthing, but I did not know you took a personal interest into its affairs. Which, after all, concern only the nobility, Theodoric said, ncing at Godfrey.


    These are not ordinary times, Quill answered. And the Thing that assembles in a few days will not be ordinary either.


    I can imagine Middanhal has been quite the nest of intriguestely, the jarl said with a grim smile. I am surprised that it would extend even beyond the esteemed jarls and their followers, though.


    True, my lord, and normally I would not interfere in the slightest. However, as things stand, there are some concerns


    We do not wish to see either of the jarls of Vale and Isarn chosen as lord protector, Godfrey interrupted.


    Now those are in words at least, the jarl said. Let us sit, he added, gesturing towards the furniture and taking a seat himself. And why do you take such a stance?


    Quill and Godfrey followed his example and took seats as well. Because neither holds any affection for the other and might abuse their newfound power to destroy the other. Their enmity runs deep. Or should one of them grow too strong, Godfrey spoke, nothing protects Theodstan from them either.


    King Sighelm and his predecessors were always careful to limit the powers of the jarls, Quill inserted. Never let Jarl Vale or Jarl Isarn be dragonlord or wed into the royal line. Never give them an ambition for the throne.


    And you consider this fear reasonable? That my fellow jarls might abuse the power of the lord protector?


    You know them better, Godfrey admitted. What do you believe?


    I do not know about Valerian or if his feud with Isenhart trumps hismon sense. The Ironfist, on the other hand, Theodoric pondered, using the ekename given to the jarl of Isarn. Isenhart always had a strong desire to have things done his way, and the will to use force to make it so. There was a moment before Theodoric spoke again. Why is this a concern of yours? Who are you to meddle in the affairs of the realm?


    One does not have to be a jarl, Godfrey said calmly, to care about what happens to the realm.


    That is true enough, Theodoric eventually said. My next question would be why you havee to me.


    Because we need an alternative, Godfrey dered, someone who will not abuse the authority as lord protector. And we need a jarl to not only suggest this candidate to the Adalthing, but also convince it.


    And you have a candidate in mind? asked Theodoric.


    We will require you for that as well, Godfrey added.


    So in truth you offer me nothing, Theodoric pointed out. You are simply here to ask me to achieve this on my own?


    Essentially, yes, Godfrey admitted with his lips curled upwards.


    The favour of a jarl does note freely, Theodoric spoke slowly. To do this I must pull many strings, make many arrangements, all of which bears a cost. I will expect favours in return, the nobleman dered while looking at Quill.


    I do not see how a humble scribe such as I can be of service to a jarl, Quill stated.


    A humble scribe, no, Theodoric said with faintughter. But the Kings Quill, who presides over the Adalthing, who is the authority on thew of the realm, who will have the ear of our future king, the jarl recounted, he can be of service to me. In the future, should I approach the Kings Quill, I fully expect him to remember the favour I showed him and the favours I am owed by him.


    Swallowing, Quill looked at Godfrey, who gave a slight nod. Of course, my lord jarl, the red-robed man epted.


    A moment of silence passed. Theodoric leaned forward and ced his chin upon his hand, not looking at his guests but out the window instead. I wonder how much Valerian or Isenhart would have paid me if I had helped them be lord protector, he said, turning his face towards his guests with a sardonic smile.


    Does this mean you are convinced, my lord? Quill asked hesitantly.


    Maybe, Theodoric replied. If it is possible to do.


    Quill informed me that if any could aplish this, it would be the jarl of Theodstan, Godfrey imed.


    In the old days, I probably could have, Theodoric said with a shrug. When I was dragonlord, when I had influence and ess to the royal treasury, when I was not med for the disaster in Heohlond. Now, without wealth, position, or allies? Theodorics expression turned into a smile. Now it would truly be an aplishment.


    A testament to your skill, my lord, Quill added.


    Two things are needed, Theodoric said after a pause, if this is to be done. Firstly, we need the right candidate.


    With Jarl Vale and Jarl Isarn gone from the list of possibilities, Quill said slowly, Jarl Ingmond remains the only choice. Unless you consider andgrave a possibility? Quill asked in addition.


    Theodoric shook his head. I doubt Ingmond is a possibility. He is not even in the city that we may discuss it. Andgrave perhaps, though a southern nobleman willck support from the northerners and reverse. We need a third option.


    Does someonee to mind? asked Godfrey.


    The lord marshal of the Order, Theodoric said pondering. His duty is to the realm, and he is already trusted with such power.


    And he is apromise that would not seem to favour the North or the South, Godfrey nodded.


    I will have to convince him, Theodoric said, but I believe I can. I know him from my days as a resident of this castle.


    And the second thing we need for this to happen? Godfrey then asked.


    Both Valerian and Isenhart will be spending theirst coin in bribery, and Ingmond is the most valuable purchase of all. With his margraves, if he supports either jarl as candidate, that jarl is likely to win the election.


    I thought Jarl Ingmond was not much interested in politics? asked Quill.


    Nor is he, Theodoric answered, but he is not a fool. Considering how he might be rewarded for lending his voice to Valerian or Isarn, he will certainly make an appearance.


    And how does this affect our ns? asked Godfrey.


    If Ingmond is already bought by either of the jarls, then the oue of the Adalthing is more or less determined. But if Ingmond has not yet decided upon a candidate, if I can perhaps offer something more tempting than what Valerian and Isenhart offer him Theodorics voice trailed off. If I can find out what Ingmond wants and prevent Valerian and Isenhart from gaining a majority, then maybe it can be done.


    You have my confidence, my lord, Quill said.


    And mine, Godfrey smiled. Mostly since we have no other option, he added wryly.


    I will have to make enquiries, Theodoric said, standing up. And time is short. Once I have determined whether an oue that favours your  or should I say our  scheme is possible, I will let you know. Godfrey and Quill stood up as well, bowed to the jarl, and left. Theodoric watched them walk out the door, his eyes narrowing in contemtion.

 Chapter 4: Rats Will Reign

    Chapter 4: Rats Will Reign


    Rats Will Reign


    Middanhal


    Jarl Isenhart looked with fury upon the group of youths gathered in his hall. In front of them was his cousins son, Athelgar. By the jarls side stood Athelstan, Eumund, an older man with simr features as Athelgar, andstly a tall man with strong arms and cold eyes. Unlike the others, he was dressed inmon garbs with leather above his tunic as armour.


    Sixty gold crowns! For what? So that you could make a mockery of your colours! Isenhart eximed.


    He was a Vale man, Athelgar tried to protest. When have we ever shown them respect?


    Do not pretend your motives were spurred by anything other than your own foolishness! the jarl fumed.


    I am sorry, Cousin, Athelgar mumbled.


    You will be, Isenhart promised. You will leave Middanhal today. Return to Silfrisarn or take to the woods for all I care, but you will not show your face again until solstice and the Adalthing has passed.


    As you wish, Athelgar said subserviently.


    And so you may remember  Ulfrik, break his nose.


    Athelgar only had time for a look of panic to cross his face before the man with cold eyes stepped forward and connected his fist with Athelgars expression, which promptly turned from panic to pain before it became covered in gushing blood. Athelgar gave a loud cry of agony as he shied away from Ulfrik and tried to protect his nose, which soon covered his hands in blood.


    Athelbold, have you anything to say to your son? Isenhart questioned while Athelgar sent a pleading look towards his father.


    Athelbold stepped forward with disdain on his face. Be gone, you Elven changeling.


    Athelgar sent his father ast look and practically fled out of the hall. The jarl turned to the other young noblemen, several of them visibly shaken and fearful. Pathetic, the jarl spit out. Go home to your fathers, pups. Let them punish you when you tell them they owe me ten crowns. The youths followed Athelgars example.


    When only the men remained, the jarl Isenhart turned to face them. Is Isenwald not here?


    He is in his chambers, milord, said one of the servants. Shall I call for him?


    Never mind, we do not need him, the jarl said and dismissed the servant. On to more important matters. Who of the northernndgraves are with me?


    I have pledges from Deorcliff, Hrossfeld, and Grenwold. They all stand with you, Athelstan said.


    And the others? Isenhart questioned.


    They are hesitant, Athelstan admitted. Perhaps in the hopes of more silver.


    You must convince them, implored the jarl. We will need all of them and some of the southerners.


    Can they be persuaded to lend their voice to a northern jarl? asked Athelstan.


    They must, replied Isenhart. Same with the athelings. They are of northern blood. Both Arnling and that pup Hardmar must prefer me over Vale.


    This will be for nothing if we do not gain Theodstans support, objected the jarls cousin, Athelbold. Even if all thendgraves speak with us, we will need at least one more jarl and his margraves.


    Have you spoken to Theodstan, Brother? asked the jarl. Athelstan shook his head. Have you, Cousin?


    No, Athelbold said. Theodstan is as cunning as he is grim to behold. He is not a man easily persuaded or convinced to our cause.


    Speak with him, Athelbold, the jarl told his cousin. Surely Theodstan cannot wish to see a southerner as lord protector.


    Most likely not, Athelstan conceded. Question is what price he will demand. He was dragonlord once. It must have been intoxicating being the second-most powerful man in the realm.


    Theodstans aid in bing lord protector is not worth making him dragonlord again, Isenhart snorted. If I promised him such, others would renounce me. He is still a disliked man, Theodoric.


    What of Ingmond? asked Athelbold. If we could gain both Theodstans and Ingmonds support, that would be more valuable than all thendgraves in the realm. We need not be concerned about offending anyndgraves by allying with Theodstan. If we have two other jarls to our cause that should be enough.


    Ingmond is even more doubtful than Theodstan, Isenhart said. He has often not even attended the Adalthing in the past. It is impossible to predict what goes on in his mind.


    Athelstan made a count out loud. Isarn and Theodstan, provided we persuade the jarl, is twenty-two noblemen. Add Deorcliff, Hrossfeld, and Grenwold, we have twenty-five. We need ten more. Either Ingmond and his eleven margraves, or tenndgraves more.


    Ten more? Isenhartined. Even all the silver in Isarn would not buy me the loyalty of that many.


    Perhaps we can find other means, Athelstan said calmly. Silver cannot be the only thing these men want.


    Let us not tarry, Athelbold remarked. We do not have many days left until the Adalthing convenes.


    Elsewhere in the manor, Isenwald sat by his desk in his chambers. In his hands, he held a letter with the seal of the House of Vale. His fingers ran across it momentarily before he broke the seal and read the contents of the letter. When done, he leaned back with a smile and read it again. Then he rang the bell pull. I need  ink and paper, he told his servant, who nodded in acquiescence and disappeared. While waiting, Isenwald read the letter a third time before his required materials were brought to him. Wait here  one moment, he told the servant, eagerly grabbed the quill, and began to write.


    <em>Dear Valerie,</em>


    <em>I understand the need to spend time in formting an answer. I am not known for my quick responses either. In fact, corresponding by letter may be a faster way to receive a reply from me than in speech. I recall that you mentioned your interest in the games at summer solstice. May I be so bold as to request your presence among my familys seats? By my side that we may watch them together. It should bring me great delight to spend the day in yourpany.</em>


    <em>Yours, </em>


    <em> Isenwald</em>


    Isenwald read it through quickly and then folded and sealed it with wax. To thedy Valerie, and  I should like  it delivered today, he told the servant, handing over the letter.


    ~~~~


    One of the northern wings in the Citadel was reserved for the lord marshal of the Order of Adal. The Order had been established many centuries ago with the purpose of keeping the peace throughout the realms of Adalmearc as well as training knights and soldiers to aplish this. As head of the Order, the lord marshalmanded thousands of knights and tens of thousands of soldiers from the western isles of Thusund to the eastern reaches of Hthiod. He was chosen at the kings discretion and usually from the knights who were not rted to the great houses of the realms. His authority was of a military nature in case of rebellion or invasion, and his only loyalty was towards the high king and the line of Sigvard.


    Being admitted into the lord marshals private quarters was not an easy thing. There were often visitors seeking to gain his favour and have themselves or their rtives given positions ofmand in this city or that region. Much like the wing for the dragonlord, there was here an antechamber where the hopeful gathered to wait. The jarl of Theodstan was not inclined towards waiting, however, and Theodoric strode past them all briskly and beat his fist against the next door. For a moment, nothing happened until a shuffle could be heard behind the door. A servant appeared. Yes, milord? he asked after inspecting Theodorics clothes and colours.


    Tell the lord marshal that the jarl of Theodstan wishes to speak to him.


    Wait here, milord, the servant answered and disappeared. A few moments passed. His lordship will see you in the atrium, the servant said as he returned. Theodoric smiled and stepped inside. Behind him, objections and outbursts could be heard from the people still waiting; sounds that were efficiently blocked when the heavy oak door mmed shut again.


    In the parlour, Theodoric found the lord marshal waiting for him. He was neither tall nor short but clean-shaven with short brown hair. He cut a heavy figure, though it insinuated strength rather than intemperance. Theodoric, said the lord marshal. It has been some years now since Ist found you in Middanhal.


    The jarl walked forward and they sped hands in greeting. It is good to see you, Reynold, the jarl replied.


    I see you still have nine fingers, Reynold said, nodding towards Theodorics left hand missing its little finger.


    Better than eight, Theodoric said smiling.


    Come, sit, invited Reynold and extended his hand towards the chairs. You are not usually lured to Middanhal, continued the lord marshal. But I suppose this was an assembly you would not miss.


    Indeed not, said Theodoric. In fact, you touch upon the reason for my presence in your chambers.


    I suspected you did not merelye for the sake of courtesy, Reynold said with a cunning look.


    You know me well. I am here because I wish to make a proposal.


    Yes? Well, go on, said the knight.


    Yes, no point in hesitation. I wish to propose you as lord protector to the Adalthing.


    Reynolds bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. Now that I did not suspect.


    Do not let that deter you from epting.


    Come now, Theodoric, you cannot be serious. I am already lord marshal. I have enough duties as it is.


    Theodoric shrugged. You will name a dragonlord, of course. The knight marshal seems appropriate. Or I could be persuaded, the jarl added slyly, which made the marshalugh. Besides, there is very little you will have to do as lord protector. In fact, the less you do the better. At least that will keep the precarious bnce between the jarls.


    You wish to have me elected merely so I may do nothing? Reynold questioned.


    Yes. Perhaps that does not sound very glorious, but it is preferable. Should Vale or Isarn be lord protector, you can rest assured they will do something, and it may easily be a problem for the realm.


    You are trying to y on my sense of duty, Theodoric.


    I am d you picked up on that. Yes, Reynold, I am. You are the only possible choice that both sides might agree on, who will not do something foolish with that much power. You have already proven that as lord marshal.


    Do you have the support of others to actually convince the Adalthing?


    More or less, the jarl said smoothly. You may leave all that to me.


    I am not quite convinced, the lord marshal admitted. It seems obvious that both Jarl Vale and Jarl Isarn will seek the office for themselves. If neither of them supports you, how will you gain enough support?


    As said, you may leave such headaches to me. I will only require that you validate any possible deals I strike to secure their aid.


    Deals I am sure there will be many of, Reynold muttered.


    If you truly doubt I can aplish this, where is the harm in agreeing to it? If I cannot achieve this, nothing changes for you.


    Except my name besughter because I sought an office I could never gain, Reynold objected.


    Not as much as mine. Besides, since when have you cared for the opinions of jarls, margraves, andndgraves? You, who was born lower than they and yet nowmand more men than a king, Theodoric said with a sly smile.


    Laughter rumbled in the lord marshals stomach. Your words drip with so much honey, Theodoric, I sometimes wonder how you keep the bees away. Very well, I will agree to it. If for no other reason than I am curious to see what you will do.


    As am I, Theodoric smiled.


    ~~~~


    At the noon meal, Brand came to the dining hall wearing his velvet clothes and took a seat by his sister. Any luck? she enquired.


    No, Brand admitted. I could not even get an audience with the lord marshal.


    Oh, Arndis said disheartened. I am sorry.


    Forget it, Brand said, shaking his head. How have you spent your morning?


    I spoke with the sister of the jarl of Theodstan. Theodwyn is her name. We spent an hour in the castle garden.


    Was she interestingpany?


    You might say, Arndis said with a conflicted tone. She seems oblivious in some ways, yet her observations were sharp in other respects. She knew my dressmaker simply by looking at me.


    An unusual gift, but a gift nheless, Brand said amused.


    She is a font of knowledge though, from the time when her brother was dragonlord. Before Lord Elis. She remembered Father, for instance, Arndis said. This grabbed Brands attention more earnestly, but before he could react, a servant approached and cleared his throat.


    Excuse me, milord, mdy, he said. If you could please stand and follow me.


    Arndis immediately stood up, whereas Brand turned his head and frowned. Is something amiss?


    The prince is curious to make your acquaintance.


    Brand hurried to follow his sisters example, and the servant led them up the hall to the high table. Room had been cleared so that they might sit next to the future kings mother, who herself sat next to the young prince Sigmund. Brand and Arndis both bowed deeply before they took their seats, and food and drink was brought for them.


    I noticed you entering the other day, said Prince Sigmund.


    Then you have a keen eye, my prince, Brand answered.


    I saw your blue tunic, the prince continued. And grandfather told me that only royals wear that colour.


    Your grandfather the king was correct, Brand said. My sister, Arndis, and I have your ancestor Arn as our ancestor as well.


    I never knew, said the prince. Grandfather never told me of other family members. Well, there are all of Mothers rtives, of course, but I do not like Hthiod. It is not a nice ce.


    Manners, Sigmund, scolded his mother. Your grandfather never told you of these people because there was no need to know, she added with a superior nce at the siblings of House Arnling.


    What is this? asked a voice cheerfully. Baldric sees two eagle chicks at the table. How quick they have learned to fly, and how far they have soared! From behind came a short man dressed in bright, intermingling colours.


    Baldric! eximed the prince. Where have you been? I was dreadfully bored all morning with my tutors.


    s! cried out the hunchbacked jester and dramatically ced his hand against his brow as if he were about to faint. Had Baldric only known such vicious creatures as tutors and teachers prowled the Citadel, Baldric would at once havee to aid! As he said these words, he grabbed a wooden bowl and a roasting spit, holding them as sword and shield, and began to duel an invisible creature. Obviously, it was a creature of terrible strength, for it soon appeared that Baldric was losing, much to the young princes delight, who pped his hands.


    Baldric, must you interrupt us with your follies while we eat? asked Sigmunds mother, clearly less approving than her son.


    But of course, oh most purpleddy! If Baldric only interrupts when it is desired, it would not truly be an interruption, would it?


    You are so much fun! said the prince. Make a title for him! he continued, pointing at Elis, the dragonlord.


    Baldric would never dare, the jester said most earnest. He always stays away from dragons, for it ismon knowledge among them that court jesters taste excellent when roasted.


    A wise decision, said Elis.


    All dragons are dangerous, even those who have be too heavy for flight, the jester added while raising his spit in the air. A few dared to smile at this jab at Elis weight, though they did not let the dragonlord see their amusement.


    What of Berimund? Say something about him! the prince demanded, turning his head to look at his kingthane who stood behind the table.


    What, oh most powerful yet not very tall lord, the hunchback said indignantly. First a dragon and then a bear? The jester burst out in loud wails. Must Baldric next go into every marsh, every bog and let the Elvenfolk eat him, hair and hunch? He apanied his sobbing by tearing at his own hair in a dramatic fashion that called forughter rather than sympathy.


    You are very silly, Baldric, said the prince. My tutors say the Elves all died a thousand years ago.


    Say that to Baldric when their fangs sink into his tender, tender flesh, Baldric retorted. Besides, there is no need for Baldric to make fun of Berimund, most mighty of warriors, renowned hero of the realm, yer of many men, and eater of smelly cheese. Baldric has already done his duty many times over. For every night, after Berimund sleeps, Baldric has entered his room, ced rotten fish in his bed, and removed it again in the morning before Berimund awakes. It is nowmon knowledge among the servants that Berimunds feet smell much better.


    I knew something was going on! came a deep roar from behind the table as Berimund lunged forward to grab the jester, but the small hunched man was quicker and dove under the princes chair.


    Calm yourself, the princes mother admonished the captain of the thanes.


    I am sorry, Lady Isabel, Berimund muttered. Sensing that the danger had passed, Baldric dared to leave his hiding ce and propped his head up next to the prince.


    Say something funny about him, Prince Sigmund said and pointed at Brand.


    Now an eagle? Baldric is hesitant, for their beaks are sharp and they fly up high. Baldric knew an eagle once who flew too close to the sun. But he has rarely seen a bird with such blue plume. He wonders what other bird lent its feathers that this eagle may fly with such bold colours.


    Brand did not reply, but only smiled and drank from his ale. You are not going to say something in return? asked the prince of Brand.


    My prince, in my experience one should never attempt to match wits with fools. If you win, you prove only that you are wiser than a fool, which should be self-evident. If you lose, you have made yourself seem to be the greater fool.


    That makes sense, the prince said, frowning as he digested this. When Berimund yed chess against Baldric and lost, he certainly did look foolish. Berimund cannot even win against me.


    A shame I am not among your thanes, Brand ventured to say. I would wager that I might prove a better opponent than your captain.


    Perhaps we can y one day, said the prince.


    It would be my honour, Brand said, inclining his head. Then the princes attention was caught by another foolery from Baldric.


    Well done, Brother, said Arndis. This is certainly a start.


    I may have an idea, Brand said quietly. But I need you to ask a few questions of your new friends.


    ~~~~


    When it was past noon the same day, Athelstan entered the courtside of the Citadel and passed through its corridors until he knocked on a door. Yes, milord? asked the servant in response to his knocking.


    Sir Athelstan of Isarn. I have an arrangement to meet the lord Marcaster, Athelstan said.


    You are expected, milord, the servant replied and showed the knight into the parlour typical of such quarters. Inside sat thendgrave of Marcaster along with his wife, sons, and daughter.


    Sir Athelstan, an honour, said Marcaster as his whole family rose to greet the visitor.


    The honour is mine, Lord Marcaster, replied Athelstan, bowing before the nobleman and afterwards his wife. I should wish to speak privately with you, if possible.


    Marcaster nced at his wife, who understood. Come, children, she said, leading them outside along with most of the servants; the one who had answered the door retreated into an inner chamber.


    I am here on behalf of my brother, Athelstan began.


    I could surmise as much, Marcaster said. Wine? he offered while grabbing his own cup.


    My brother is interested in your support at the Adalthing, Athelstan said, declining the offer of wine.


    That, Marcaster said, I could surmise as well.


    The jarl Isarn wonders what Lord Marcaster might require in return for his support.


    That is the question, Marcaster smiled. In a situation such as this, southernndgraves rarely lend their voices to northern jarls.


    But not unprecedented. And the mines of Isarn are rich with silver.


    Marcaster stood silent for a moment. Fifty crowns.


    That is a steep price for merely one voice, Athelstan argued.


    If the jarl Isarn wishes to gain favour south of Middanhal, Marcaster replied, he must be prepared to pay the price.


    Is there nothing else thendgrave of Marcaster might desire? ns for which the aid of a jarl or indeed lord protector would be useful.


    Mynds are bountiful, I have two sons and a daughter for good measure, what more could I need? But gold, one can always use gold.


    My brother has sons as well who are both unwed, Athelstan suggested cautiously. A union favourable for Marcaster might be arranged.


    A kind thought, Marcaster smiled again. But I am fond of my daughter. Isarn and Marcaster are at opposite ends of the realm, I would hardly ever see her.


    Athelstan stood unmoving, thoughts in his head turning. Fifty crowns? he said atst.


    Exactly that, Marcaster confirmed.


    I will convey your response to my brother, Athelstan said and left.


    Marcaster stood, watching the door close behind the knight. Marry my daughter to a northerner, he said scornfully once the door was closed. Bloody muttonheads, he mumbled as he moved to open a door to one of the chambers. Behind it stood Arion, chambein of Vale. You heard what Isarn offers, Marcaster told Arion, who stepped into the parlour.


    You seem very disdainful of the northerners, Arion said. Surely you would not demand the same price of Jarl Vale?


    Gold is gold, Marcaster said casually. But maybe I will settle for forty crowns, he continued, if my youngest son bes ward of the jarl.


    That sounds reasonable, Arion smiled and inclined his head. I am certain my master can agree to this, the chambein said and left as well.


    When he was alone in the parlour, thendgrave of Marcaster called his servant in the adjacent chamber to attention. Yes, milord? asked the servant.


    Bring a message to Lord Elis, and none others are to hear it, Marcaster specified. Tell him he was right. Isarn attempted to gain my support, but he is outbid by Vale. I will be supporting Vale in the Adalthing until Lord Elis tells me otherwise.


    As you say, milord, the servant replied with a bow.


    ~~~~


    It was early afternoon when Theodoric, followed by a small handful of his thanes, walked down the Arnsweg from the Citadel. Passing the Temple square, they entered one of the districts dominated by merchants. The jarl stopped outside a house, and one of his thanes knocked on the door. A servant appeared, and upon recognising the deep red colour of their cloaks, he allowed thepany inside without hesitation. Tell the alderman that the jarl of Theodstan wishes to see him, Theodoric told the servant, who bowed andplied. Within moments, Theodoric was shown further inside the house. He left his thanes in the hallway and entered the aldermans study.


    Inside, Theodoric found a man richly dressed in furs, despite the summer heat, and with a golden chain across his bulging stomach. It was the sign of his title as alderman of the guilds in Middanhal. His responsibilities were many and his influence great; trade was his domain and coin his servant. Milord, what an unexpected pleasure, said the alderman, though his expression did not show any signs of delight.


    Alderman Edwin, it has been too long, Theodoric replied, wearing a sardonic smile. Not since I was dragonlord, I think.


    And a happy time that was, Edwin added. You were most agreeable to the guilds. Not that I cast any aspersions on Lord Elis, he said quickly.


    Of course not. Theodorics smile grew wider. Though I do hear the merchants groan under his taxes.


    Ours is not an easy life, Edwin said sadly.


    Indeed not. But allow me to touch upon why I am here. Something has been on my mind, Edwin, with which you may help me, Theodoric said casually.


    Anything to serve a jarl of the realm, Edwin answered in a servile manner.


    I have been wondering how to make friends with another jarl. Ingmond to be precise. How to persuade him to see things my way at the Adalthing.


    I recall you were most apt at persuasion upon a time, milord, Edwin said, licking his lips.


    I had certain tools at my disposal then, which I do not now, Theodoric said, gesturing with open hands.


    The winds of fate can be fickle, Edwinmented.


    But I have noticed one thing. An increase in the traffic of stone and marble from Heohlond, passing right through Theodstan on its way to Middanhal. Can you guess its destination?


    I would not know, milord, Edwin swallowed.


    Ingmond, Theodoric smiled. Which makes sense. The jarls father spent his entire life trying to finish that temple. Last year, from what I heard, they had little more than the foundation made.


    Is that so, Edwin said, his eyes ncing elsewhere.


    But now, stone and marble to build. Which of course requires masons and artisans inrge numbers to hew and cut and carve.


    You are a fountain of knowledge, milord, Edwin said, his fingers fidgeting with his golden chain.


    All of which requires coin. Inrge quantity. Coin paid to the masons guild and the artisans guild. Must I continue?


    I am not certain what his lordship means, Edwin replied, drinking from a small cup.


    Who is paying?


    The drink in Edwins hand sloshed around. What? coughed the alderman.


    Who is paying? Theodoric repeated, stressing each word.


    Those are guild matters, Edwin protested half-heartedly.


    Now, Edwin, this is merely between you and me. I will make it easy, Theodoric spoke patiently as to a little child. Does Ingmond pay the guilds with gold or with silver?


    Both, I presume, Edwin said confused.


    Theodoric sighed. But does ite from the coffers of Vale or the mines of Isarn? And how much?


    Oh, Edwin eximed. Neither.


    What? Theodoric could not hide his surprise.


    The guilds have been paid by the royal treasury, Edwin exined, which made Theodoric lean back.


    How very interesting, the jarl of Theodstan finally remarked.


    If that is so, milord, Edwin said, a cunning smile finding an awkward home on his portly face, maybe there is something else you will find interesting.


    You have my undivided attention, Theodoric said, leaning forward again.


    It is not the only affair between the Crown and the guilds, Edwin spoke quietly. Should the guilds be able to rely upon you in the uing Adalthing


    I am ever a friend to the guilds, Theodoric smiled.


    Then perhaps there is a service I may perform for you, milord, Edwin told the jarl while his hand caressed the golden chain across his stomach.


    ~~~~


    A knock was heard on the door to the chambers of the dragonlord. As the servant opened it, he found a young nobleman in blue velvet. Yes, milord? asked the servant.


    I am Adalbrand, lord of House Arnling. I wish to speak with his lordship, Brand said.


    One moment, milord, the servant answered. He disappeared deeper into the wing and returned soon after. His lordship will see you in his study, the servant told Brand, guiding him to the room.


    House Arnling, Elis said contemtively as Brand took the seat offered to him. I saw you at the meal. You are Arngrims son, I take it.


    I am, my lord, Brand said. I thank you for allowing me an audience.


    I am curious, Elis replied, what Arngrims son wishes to see me for. Are you in the Order as he was?


    Yes, milord. I will be knighted in about a month, depending on when Sir Athelstan deems me ready.


    You are his squire? Elis asked with raised eyebrows. That exins why I have never seen you before.


    Indeed, my lord. Recently returned, I am now looking to make myself useful at court.


    More useful than as a simple knight of the Order, I take it, Elis said with a smile.


    It hase to my notice that Lord Berimund may not be the most appropriate choice as captain of the kingthanes, Brand ventured to say.


    It hase to your notice, has it? Elis said, his smile turning slightly scornful. He is among the best warriors in thend, a former champion of the grand fight.


    I cast no doubt upon his prowess as a warrior, Brand hastened to say, only his capabilities in other regards.


    Very well, I am intrigued. Go on, Elis said with a gesture.


    Being responsible for our young princes safety, Lord Berimund spends most of his time with him. Yet Lord Berimund does not necessarily strike me as a man much suited to guide such an impressionable young mind as our prince.


    Eliss expression turned contemtive as he leaned over his desk. Continue.


    Once the prince is old enough to take the throne in ten years, he will be heavily influenced by Lord Berimunds opinions and behaviour. Perhaps, for the sake of the realm and the prince himself, a more amenable captain for the thanes should be found. Elis did not reply, but his eyes scrutinised Brand. The first thing that the prince must do upon taking power is choose a dragonlord to serve as his right hand. I can only imagine he will seek the advice and be steered by the one person who has cared for him, protected and befriended him, Brand told the dragonlord. Still Elis did not reply, but he leaned back and narrowed his eyes in contemtion. If the captain of the kingthanes is your friend, and our future king consults him for advice on whom to choose as the dragonlord Brand allowed hisst sentence to hang in the air.


    And I will not have to think hard to find someone more suitable than Lord Berimund, I take it, Elis said.


    No, my lord, Brand replied. I am trained and suited for the task ofmanding the thanes. It is only proper that the prince is protected by somebody of his own blood, his own kinsman.


    Elis ced his chin against his hand in rumination for a moment. Removing Lord Berimund would be an unpopr move and not in my best interest only two days before the Adalthing. But, he continued, afterwards it would be a different matter. If I remember correctly, as an atheling of Sigvard and lord of your house, you have a voice in the Thing?


    I do, my lord, Brand answered.


    I think we may have an ord, Elis smiled. When the Thing is concluded, we will both find ourselves in our desired positions. Brand took his leave and Elis servant led him out. When the servant returned, he found Elis making marks on a long list of names and numbers. The names all belonged to people who had a vote in the Adalthing. I will need you to deliver a few messages, Eolf, said Elis as he began to write.


    Outside, Brand walked with quick steps through the Citadel until he reached his own quarters. Arndis, he called out as he stepped through the door. She emerged from her bedchamber.


    What is it?


    Smile, my sister. You were correct that there is discord between Lord Elis and Lord Berimund.


    Have you spoken with Lord Elis already?


    I have, Brand said. We reached an agreement. I will take position as captain of the thanes.


    Arndis struck her hands together in joy and then embraced her brother. Wondrous news!


    It is, Brand saidughing before disentangling himself. This should be the end of our sorrows.


    When will you be givenmand?


    Soon, Brand replied. The Adalthing must convene first. I do not know Lord Elis intentions except that he does not intend to relinquish his position. I will aid him as I can, and in return he will secure this for me.


    Well done, Brand, Arndis said beaming with joy. You have done what you promised to do.


    Our fortunes are reversed, Brand said smilingly. I will rest easy tonight.


    ~~~~


    Pardon me, milord, but there is a messenger here for you, a servant told Jarl Isarn. Isenhart was seated around a table along with his brother, his youngest son, his cousin Athelbold, and other important members of the family. The discussion taking ce was centred on the Adalthing.


    Well, bring me the message, the jarl said irritably.


    Forgive me, but he was told to deliver it into your hands only and would not concede this point, the servant said nervously.


    Fine, bring him in and tell him to be quick about it, the jarl ordered. Soon after, the messenger appeared with a letter in hand.


    Directly from Lord Elis hand to yours, milord, said Eolf, servant to the dragonlord. My master expects me to return with a reply, Eolf continued and walked to stand outside the hall.


    All eyes were on the jarl as he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. Various expressions danced across his face, which none could interpret. What does he write, Brother? asked Athelstan, who was least afraid to disturb the jarls thoughts.


    Perhaps the answer to our prayers, answered Isenhart. He wishes to propose an alliance. Throw his support behind me as lord protector in return for being named dragonlord and retaining his position.


    Does he write how many noblemen he brings with him? asked Eumund.


    No, but he must have a few at least. Perhaps this is what is needed to sway the Thing in our favour, said Athelbold, the jarls cousin.


    For a hefty price, objected Athelstan. We should not lightly promise the title of dragonlord to any man, especially to one not of our house.


    He writes more, muttered the jarl. As a gesture of his support, he will have the Crown forfeit the sixty gold marks we owe in geld.


    You could still have your vassals pay the geld, Athelbold was quick to suggest. They need not know it was forfeited. Not only do you save your own gold crowns, you gain fifty more. Fifty that can be used to buy the southernndgraves.


    And, the jarl continued as he read along, he is prepared to give us the document promising us ownership of the Mint. Since it already has the aldermans signature, we can sign it ourselves once we are lord protector and make it valid. We can even spite Vale and cancel the wedding.


    Getting the alderman to sign that document must have taken skill, Eumund remarked. Had the king been alive, he would never have allowed it. We must admit Lord Elis brings many gifts. Especially if we are spared the humiliation of marrying one of ours to one of Vale.


    I am still unsure, Athelstan said conflicted. I find it odd that he would expend such effort on an engagement between us and the House of Vale only to now suggest we cancel it.


    It was obviously a ploy, Brother, the jarl said gruffly. He has demonstrated his ability to serve us, and a further chance to spite Vale is never to be turned down. Call the messenger back. Thest part was added to the servant, whoplied. Do you require an answer in writing? asked the jarl of Elis servant.


    Eolf shook his head. My master said a mere yes or no would suffice.


    Tell your master the answer is yes, Isenhart said.


    Very well, milord, Eolf said, bowing deeply before he disappeared.


    We have it, the jarl said with a grin as he looked at his kinsmen. We have it.


    ~~~~


    The jarl of Vale was in his study going through ledgers and matching numbers when his chambein entered. Pardon me, milord, but there is a messenger here. He ims he has a message he will only ce directly in your hands, said Arion.


    How peculiar. Send him in, I could use a small pause, I suppose, Valerian answered and poured something for himself to drink. Momentarily after, Eolf appeared and extended a letter in his hand.


    As the jarl epted it, Eolf gave him the apanying spoken message. From Lord Elis hand into yours, milord, Eolf said. He is expecting an immediate reply, he continued, bowed low, and left the study. As Valerian opened the letter and began to read it, his brother Konstans entered.


    I was told you received a letter, Konstans said.


    It is from the seneschal, Valerian told him. He wants to support us in exchange for keeping his position, the jarl continued and gave the letter for Konstans to read. Moments after, they were joined by a young man also dressed in the colours of the House of Vale.


    You bade mee, Father? he said to Konstans.


    Yes, Konstantine, I thought you should be present, Konstans said. If you are to be jarl one day, you should participate in discussions such as this.


    Indeed, there is much you must learn, Nephew, Jarl Valerian said to him, since I am given only a daughter. What do you make of this letter?


    Konstans gave his son the letter from Elis. The young nobleman read it, but it left him with a confused expression. It seems unclear to me. He wishes to be seneschal while you are lord protector, Uncle? But these documents he promises, I thought we would already gain the Mint. When Valerie marries the Isarn boy.


    That was a ruse, Konstans interrupted. I had my doubts and now I am certain. Lord Elis never cared for the wedding. It was simply an excuse to show us his capabilities. That he is able to pressure the alderman into giving up the Mint proves his political skill.


    But since the alderman has signed them, do we need Lord Elis? Or if we go through with the wedding, will he not be bound to sign them? asked the young man.


    Konstans shook his head. The wedding will never take ce either way. And if we decline, Lord Elis will destroy the documents. This is why he has kept them, why he has not signed them. They are a disy of his skill, his ability to shape the political winds. A promise of what we will gain by allying with him.


    So what do we answer? asked Valerian.


    We answer yes, replied Konstans.


    Are you certain we wish to trust him? asked the jarl.


    No. But let him believe we agree to his ns. If he thinks our interests are aligned, he will not work against us. Even if we should decide our interests are not aligned, exined his brother.


    Call the messenger back, the jarl told Arion, who had been silent during the exchange. The chambein did as ordered and returned with Eolf.


    Does Lord Elis require a written answer?


    He said that yes or no would suffice, milord.


    Tell him yes, Valerian bade the servant.


    As you say, milord, Eolf said, bowed, and left, returning to bring Elis the answers to his messages.


    ~~~~


    When Eolf was back at the Citadel, he found that a few people hopeful for an audience with the dragonlord were waiting in the wing. Among them was a portly figure with a golden chain as the symbol of his authority, revealing his status as alderman of the guilds. The responsibilities as leader of guilds were twofold. He was to ensure that the guilds and merchants could ply their trades and that gold and silver flowed into the kings treasury. It varied how great an interest the kings of Adalrik took in the details of trade andmerce, however, and often such tasks were delegated to the dragonlord. In the end, most kings were more interested in how gold might be spent than earned. Thus, the alderman was familiar with the paths of the Citadel, and unlike others who were kept in uncertainty about an audience, the alderman was rarely kept waiting. Eolf went straight through the corridors and into his masters study.


    Yes? asked Elis, looking up as his servant entered.


    Both jarls agree to your proposal, milord, Eolf said.


    Excellent, the dragonlord smiled.


    Furthermore, Alderman Edwin is here to see you.


    Send him in, Elis said with a wave.


    A momentter, the alderman made his entrance. Milord, Edwin said as he bowed deeply.


    What is it? I am upied, Elis replied, ncing down at the stacks of paper on his desk.


    Of course, milord, and I beg your pardon most humbly, Edwin said, wiping a few pearls of sweat from his brow. I have juste from a meeting with several prominent merchants of Middanhal.


    This is something I need to know about?


    I believe so, milord. They are concerned about the new tax on certain luxury goods, Edwin exined. Such are already expensive when our merchants buy them in Alczar. Then there is the toll in Herbergja to pay, and further transport upriver, toll when they disembark in Adalrik, and


    Then they raise their prices, Elis replied dismissively. If people can afford luxury, they can afford to pay more.


    Of course, milord, you are wise to see this, Edwin conceded, wiping his brow again. But they are also concerned about the tax on salt.


    It is more than reasonable, Elis brushed him off. They pay a toll to bring the salt through Middanhal when they wish to sell it up north. They should also pay a tax when they sell it here in the city.


    See that is the core of the matter, Edwin said hesitantly, his fingers entwining themselves in the links of his golden chain. Before it was an advantage for them to sell the salt in Middanhal and avoid the toll. With the new tax, they have more reason to continue further north, where it is scarcer and prices are higher.


    Middanhal is thergest city in the realms, Elis said dismissively. With all the salt they mine in Hthiod, some will alwayse here to sell it.


    Certainly, milord, I cannot question that, Edwin admitted. I merely, humbly, suggest


    Enough, eximed Elis. Defeating the hignders was not cheap, and now Vidrevi is trying to shirk its responsibilities. The kingdom needs coin, and I will not discuss this further.


    Of course, milord, Edwin said with a deep bow; yet although he had effectively been dismissed, he remained in the chamber. There is one other, small matter, if you will permit it, Edwin said anxiously, his hand grabbing tightly around the chain on his stomach.


    What is it, sighed Elis.


    The documents you had me sign. For Jarl Isarn and Jarl Vale.


    What of them? Elis said brusquely.


    Should someone learn that I signed not only one, but two documents surrendering control of the Mint Edwin swallowed, not finishing the sentence.


    Well, are you fool enough to tell anyone?


    Of course not, milord! Edwin hastened to say. But suppose one jarl speaks to the other, and they realise they have both been given the same promise?


    That will not happen, Elis promised him. They hate each other, and they both believe the other person is being deceived. They understand why it must be kept secret even if they misunderstand the reason.


    Very well, milord, Edwin said hesitantly. It is merely that any interference in the Mints work or attempts to change the bnce between silver and gold, the alderman spoke haltingly, would severely disrupt trade throughout the realm, indeed all the realms.


    There will be no interference nor disruptions, Elis said definitively. Will the word of the dragonlord suffice for you? he asked, keeping his eyes locked on Edwin.


    Of course, milord. I will take my leave with your assurances, milord, Edwin said with a bow.


    Leaving through the corridors, the alderman turned and walked through another hallway, which ran parallel with the dragonlords quarters. Finally, he opened the door to a small room, which was used as a linen closet. Inside stood a slender figure wearing a hood. When Edwin opened the door, he found that the hooded person had been keeping an eye glued to a small spy hole in the wall. Master Holwine, Edwin whispered.


    A little startled by the alderman, Holwine recovered quickly. Oh, it is you.


    Are you satisfied? asked Edwin, wiping his brow with his now rather wet sleeve.


    The jarl will be very pleased to hear this, said the servant. This is rather interesting, Holwine continued, pointing towards the spy hole that let anybody observe the dragonlord in his private chamber. Did you spy on my master when he was dragonlord?


    Never! Edwin said quickly while Holwine stepped out of the closet and closed the door.


    Yet you knew about it, Holwine said with a sly smile.


    It was the old king, never me! When his favour towards the jarl began to lessen, Edwin said, nervously skirting around the subject of Theodorics fall from grace at court. The king had it made this way by members of the guild of masons, Edwin exined, licking his lips.


    And the masons told you, Holwinepleted.


    We protect each other and those who help us, said Edwin. Speaking of help?


    My master will help you as stated, Holwine promised. The servant left on light footsteps, gone within moments; the alderman nced from side to side before walking away with heavier footfall.


    ~~~~


    Some hours after the aldermans meeting with the dragonlord, Holwine returned to the jarl of Theodstans private quarters, where Theodoric sat alone. Yes? he said questioningly.


    Took a long time, but I finally had a chance to get in and rummage about a bit. That Lord Elis has quite some wheels turning, webs spinning.


    Yes, yes, I am sure it was an effort and you deserve praise. Now tell me if it is true, Theodoric said impatiently.


    It is, Holwine said briefly before borating. He kept them in his strongbox, which I might add was very difficult to pry open and lock again, hiding my little foray into his private papers.


    But you saw them with your own eyes?


    I did, Holwine confirmed. Documents for Vale and for Isarn, promising each of them control of the Mint.


    A dangerous game he ys, Theodoric contemted. But so very clever. Both the jarls would sell their mothers for a chance to ruin their rivals wealth. Add to this that Elis controls Ingmond and can decide the oue of the Adalthing, the jarl considered. He has Valerian and Isenhart in his hand.


    Ill news for your design to have Sir Reynold chosen, Holwine imed.


    On the contrary, Theodoric smiled. This indicates that Elis has not decided whom to support. Why should he, he has ample time to weigh their offers. And in his hesitation lies my opportunity.


    I could go back, Holwine offered, take the documents with me. You will have proof to show the other jarls that Elis is untrustworthy.


    Theodoric shook his head. That might frighten Elis and prompt him to take some action I cannot foresee. I need him to be cautious and give me time to enact my own ns.


    So you have conceived a n, milord? Holwine said with gleaming eyes.


    I think I have, Theodoric said with a self-satisfied smile.


    Leaving his quarters, Theodoric passed through the corridors of the Citadel until he approached the royal quarters. The kingthanes nced at him as he passed near but did not hinder or question the passage of a jarl. Reaching the library tower, Theodoric entered without knocking. From the adjacent hall came voices, and then Quill emerged. My lord jarl, the scribe said, inclining his head. If I had known you desired to meet, we could havee to you. Behind Quill, Godfrey appeared.


    No, I enjoy this tower, Theodoric said, ncing around. Remote, none to overhear our conversation.


    Have you made your enquiries? Godfrey asked.


    I have, Theodoric smiled. I may have devised a way.


    There is always a way, Godfrey smiled.


    May I suggest we speak in here, Quill said, gesturing towards the scriptorium, where he and Godfrey had just been. Once inside, he spoke again. We are eager to listen, my lord.


    Good, because there have been some interesting developments, Theodoric said as his eyes fell upon a chessboard. He grabbed the ck king and the white king. I assumed the Adalthing would be split between Valerian and Isenhart, he said, gesturing with a king as he spoke each name. Then he ced the kings back on the chessboard, where they were surrounded by their pawns and pieces.


    But, Theodoric continued and grabbed a seal that Quill used for his letters, there is a third faction. Ingmond is not bought by either of the jarls. In fact, he is allied with Elis, our dragonlord, Theodoric exined, cing the seal between the white and ck pieces as a symbol of the unaligned Elis. Neither Quill nor Godfrey spoke but simply listened and watched.


    Elis has been courting both Valerian and Isenhart. The one he decides to support is near certain to have the majority. However, Theodoric added, there is a chance of gaining the majority without Elis and Ingmond. If Valerian and I join together with some of thendgraves on our side as well, we may sway the Adalthing in favour of Sir Reynold.


    And do you believe Vale can be persuaded to lend his voice to Sir Reynold? asked Godfrey.


    Not at first, Theodoric said. I suspect he is making deals with Elis and hopes to secure the election for himself. Here is the tipping point. There will be three countings of voices in the Adalthing for an election like this, is that not so? the jarl asked of Quill, who was keeper of thew.


    Yes, Quill nodded. As when the Adalthing acknowledges a new heir to the realm. Up to three countings of the day, should the matter not be resolved by the first or second.


    Good, Theodoric said. My assumption is that Elis will not act at the first counting, perhaps not even by the second. Too much is uncertain, the jarl exined. None will know exactly how many lend their voices to Valerian and how many to Isenhart. The first counting allows those undecided, like Elis, to scout the support of each jarl and consider who is most likely to secure a majority.


    And once Lord Elis knows the rtive support of each jarl, he can decide whom to favour, who will have a majority with his and Jarl Ingmonds support, Quill continued.


    Precisely, the jarl of Theodstan confirmed. However, Elis is ying a dangerous game. He is making promises to both jarls that he cannot keep, Theodoric continued, touching both kings of the chessboard with his fingertips.


    You predict that Vale will abandon his hope in Elis and join with you instead, Godfrey guessed.


    Exactly, Theodoric nodded. Isenhart is different. He will dly take what risks he must as long as he thinks he can attain his goal. Valerian is far more cautious. He only makes deals where he is certain to profit.


    And you believe that he will consider you the safer deal? Godfrey asked.


    I do. I have an offer in mind for Valerian if he aids me in making Reynold lord protector. When Valerian sees after the first counting that Elis is undered, once I tell him that Elis along with Ingmond might support Isenhart For a moment, Theodorics voice trailed off. Rather than risk ending up with nothing, I believe Valerian will switch allegiance to my cause. Thus I will secure the election without Elis, without Ingmond, and we will have our lord protector.


    Aplicated n, Quill said.


    Political affairs areplicated, Theodoric responded with a shrug. I see no other way.


    Then this is how it must be, Godfrey consented.


    I have preparations to make, Theodoric said, moving away and getting ready to leave. Gods willing, Reynold will be lord protector in a few days.


    I am sure they are, Godfrey smiled as if he had made a jest.


    ~~~~


    Outside Middanhal, scattered camps of tents and primitive shelters had sprung up, both to the north and to the south. There were too many travellers for the city tofortably hold, and most elected to live outside until the actual day of the feast. This would also let them save the toll on entry since no gate tolls were collected on that day. Thus to many of the pilgrims, who had already spent days on the road and slept in the wild, one more night outside meant nothing. Those who already had arrangements, wished to try their luck, or were simply tired of sleeping on the ground, contributed to the steady stream of travellers entering the city. The gates were closed at nightfall, but so close to the solstice, nightfall happenedte.


    It was near the tolling of thest evening bell when another wanderer walked through the southern gate. This happened slowly, for movement congested at the gate from the collection of toll. In one hand, he had a travel bag; in the other, he had a curved staff for a bow that marked him as an archer and served to help him keep his bnce against the current of the crowd. As he walked into the shadow of the gatehouse, he nced up and saw the great arch of stone above him. Then he had to look ahead as a guard spoke to him.


    One silver mark to enter the city, the guard said tonelessly. A clerk sat by a desk and made markings whenever silver was deposited in the chest by his side, keeping the toll collectors honest.


    The archer dug out a silver piece and gave it to the guard. Any ce where I might find a room? he asked the nearest guard, who snorted in reply.


    The day before solstice? Dont waste my time, the guard responded, pulling the archer forward by gripping his arm. Keep moving, he added and gave the man a push in the back.


    nting his staff in the ground for support, the archer regained his bnce and threw an angry re back. However, the guard had already turned around and was herding the next travellers forward. Standing still also meant that other people were soon streaming past him, and so the archer opted to move to the side of the Arnsweg, pressing himself against the houses.


    He nced around. Ahead and up the Arnsweg was the great stone bridge, which marked the boundary between Lowtown and the rest of the city. Surrounding him on both sides of the street, Lowtown itself spread out like a beehive. Deciding not to cross the road, the archer turned and walked further into Lowtown on his side of the street.


    The smaller streets and crooked alleys meant that Lowtown felt as crowded as the Arnsweg. Most people walked quickly, knowing their destination, but the archer had to move more slowly as he investigated his surroundings. Because of this, people were constantly pushing into him; at times in response to this, he retreated to stand up against the buildings and get a better look. The first inns and hostels had numerous people loitering about, and he continued quickly. Going deeper into Lowtown, movements on the street became less frequent. He was eyed with suspicion now and then but otherwise left alone until he saw a sign outside a house. The sign showed a tankard of ale, marking it as a tavern. The archer went inside, taking off his cap as the burly tavern keeper greeted him through the noise of the other patrons.


    Enter and be wee, the barkeep said in a jolly voice, and the archer nodded in response.


    Thanks, much appreciated.


    Dont speak, let me guess. From Hthiod, aye? With that big bow of yours.


    Thats right.


    And youre here for thepetition tomorrow, I bet.


    Also right.


    Ill look forward to seeing you shoot, the tavern keeper said cheerfully. Now what can I do for you?


    Might you have a ce for me to sleep? I could use somewhere dry.


    The host scratched himself behind the ear. Well, I dont normally rent out rooms, this ce is mostly just for eating and drinking. Suppose I could let you sleep in the stables if you dont mind there might be rats.


    That would be fine as long as it wont get wet if theres rain, answered the archer.


    Good, good then. Thatll be one silver to spend the night here, and Ill give you something to eat as well.


    Thanks. Could you bring it to me in the stables? I would prefer the quiet, the archer said, gesturing to the rowdy people drinking andughing in themon room.


    Certainly, the tavern keeper said amicably. If you go through that door there, youll be in a small courtyard. Across is the door to the stable, he said with a smile. The archer thanked him and followed his instructions after fishing out a piece of silver as payment.


    The stable was little more than a few booths containing a cow and a sheep, but there was plenty of hay in one of the corners. The archer sat down in the haystack, cing his bow staff next to him, and opened his travel bag. He pulled out a small pouch and emptied its content into his other hand. A small string, neatly tied together, fell out. He untied it and examined it closely. As he was doing this, he heard a rustle and then the door opening. A maid appeared with a bowl containing a stew. Here you are, she said, handing him the bowl and a wooden spoon.


    Thank you, he said, cing the bowl on the ground before he tied the string together.


    What are you doing? she asked puzzled.


    I have to be sure the string isnt frayed, he told her as he put it away. It might make the shot go awry if the string is weak somewhere.


    I never knew, the maid said with a smile. Well, Ill let you eat, she added and left.


    The archer had another purpose first, though, as he pulled out a small bottle and a rag from his bag. He opened the bottle, pouring some of its content onto the rag, and applied the oil onto his bow staff until it glistened dark brown. When he was satisfied, he took another rag and removed any superfluous oil with that; finally, he carefully ced the staff against the wall. Only when his preparations were done did he begin to eat the cooling stew. When had finished it, he set the bowl aside and leaned back into the haystack, positioning the bag so that his legs were above it, keeping it in ce. Then he fell asleep to get what rest might be possible before the day of solstice began.

 Chapter 5: Midsummer Sun

    Chapter 5: Midsummer Sun


    Midsummer Sun


    Middanhal


    On the morning of the longest day, the first bell had not yet tolled when Quill heard a knock on the door to his library. As he opened, he found a kitchen girl outside holding a bowl of gruel. Pardon me, Master Quill, but I know you like to take your meals here. And since your apprentice is gone, I thought I would bring it to you, she said.


    You may ce it there, Quill said, opening the door fully and pointing to a small table nearby, where he normally ate with Egil. The girl entered, ced the bowl on the table, and nced around. Something that strikes your curiosity? Quill asked while taking a seat.


    Ive never been in the library before, she told him.


    I never heard of a kitchen servant with an interest in books before, Quill remarked as he began to eat his morning meal.


    Well, we cant read, so we wouldnt know what to do with them either, she admitted. She stood hovering near the doorway but did not leave.


    Perhaps you wish to tell me why you bothered to race up here?


    Oh, I didnt want the others to overhear if I waited for you in the kitchen. And Cook wouldnt like me disturbing a person of importance.


    Well, that is toote now, so you may as well proceed.


    Its just she began, biting her lip. I barely saw Egil before he left. I dont know what hes doing, or when hell be back. Will he be back?


    Youre the kitchen girl Ive seen him with, Quill said in realisation. I forgot how you looked. What is your name?


    Kate, Master Quill, she said and made a small bow, which made Quill chuckle.


    Well, I cannot tell you when Egil will return. It will be some weeks at least.


    Will he be fine?


    I have every reason to believe so.


    Thank you, Master Quill, she said with a relieved smile.


    Kate, Quill said before she could leave. Would you like to be able to read?


    I dont know, master. What would I ever need it for?


    I cannot say. But knowledge and especially the ability to acquire knowledge is always useful. Seeing that she seemed to waver, he added, and I imagine it would impress Egil. He will not meet another servant girl who can read.


    What do I have to do?


    Tonight, between the first andst of the evening bells when your duties are done. Make sure you wash your hands until they arepletely clean, and dry them thoroughly. Brush your hair free of any filth. Do you have other clothes than what you use for work?


    I have a dress for when I go to the Temple, Kate informed him.


    Wear that, Quill nodded, and we will begin tonight.


    ~~~~


    On the day of summer solstice, the Temple square was transformed. The stalls and vendors had been cleared out, and a temporary fence was erected to keep the spectators back. Inside the empty square, various wooden structures were being quickly assembled by skilled workers. They were employed by the guilds, who for the most part were responsible for the games and tournaments held.


    Soon there were arenas, targets, and ranges built for each of the contests to be held. Whilemoners had to stand or find room on one of the rooftops that overlooked the square, tribunes had been raised on the west end of the square so that the Temple was at the left hand. The tribunes were sharply divided ording to rank with the tallest, centre-most seats reserved for the prince and those closest to him. The next rows of seats were intended for the jarls and their retinue, and then came those for thendgraves and margraves below them. If any seats were left, those with the standing of beorn might im those or else be content with standing up.


    Apart from the workmen hurrying about to set everything up, there were also several clerks and scribes trying to organise the events. The archer who had arrived yesterday got in line and waited until he reached their desks. I wish to participate in the archery contest, he said.


    No surprise, the clerk said with a nce at the bow staff in the archers hand. Name?


    Nichs from Tothmor, the archer told him.


    No surprise either, youre the tenth archer from Hthiod today. Twenty-four silver to enter.


    Thats robbery, Nichs protested. How can it be that much just topete? If I dont win, Ive lost twenty-four silver!


    Then dont enter if you dont think you can win. Twenty-four eagles or let the next man take your spot, the clerk said unforgiving.


    Fine, Nichs conceded, digging his money pouch out of his travelling bag. He opened it up and began to slowly count twenty-four pieces with the eagle imprinted on one side.


    Best of luck to you, the scribe said in an unconvincing tone as he put the money away and jotted down Nichs name.


    The archerypetition and the grand fight were open to all who wished topete,moners and nobles alike. The joust was only for knights and noblemen, however. So that they might avoid the crowds of others seeking to enter the tournament, and since many of them were only interested in the joust, a scribe was dedicated to epting only their admission. Two knights moved towards this particr clerk, both of them already wearing their armour and with their helmets in hand.


    Sir Richard of Alwood to enter the joust, the older knight said, throwing a pouch of coins down on the desk that threatened to spill the scribes ink well. He rushed to steady it and sent an angry re up but dared not speak. Instead, he merely wrote down the knights name while Richardughed. After him came his former squire.


    Sir Eumund of Isarn, entering the joust and the grand fight, the young nobleman said, paying the entrance fee with more careful motions.


    Both? Richard said with raised eyebrows. Well, I admire your spirit even if I suspect you will taste the dirt before the day is over.


    Be careful about your predictions that they do not turn on yourself, Eumund replied.


    Hardly, Richardughed again. Though maybe you will have a chance in the grand fight since I am absent. But do notin that your back hurts when I knock you from your horse in the joust.


    Riding that old nag that you do, I will be surprised if it does not copse the moment you mount it, Eumund retorted.


    Hah, my old nag will be fresh long after you have lost your wind. But I better check the stable boys are treating her well, Richard replied, and the two parted with Richard returning to the Citadel and Eumund walking towards the tribunes.


    ~~~~


    With the tribunes and fences raised, people slowly began to filter towards them. The main tribune for the prince and his following was empty, of course, since it was reserved and they would arrivest. However, with the morning bell having sounded a while ago, even the jarls and their houses were taking seats. In past years, this had often been a source of trouble. Whilst Ingmond had not yet arrived and Theodstan brought only his sister along with a few servants and guards, both Isarn and Vale came with numerous rtives and attendants; each sought to im as much area as possible.


    A sort ofpromise had developed over the years with Isarn taking the northern seats and Vale taking the southern, but still there were potential brawls waiting to happen as they had done on the steps of the Temple a few days ago. Both groups sent scowls towards any near them who wore the red colour with the wrongpanion. So red and ck was concentrated at the one end, red and gold at the other.


    The only exception was a young man with a red and ck cloak, who sat by a young woman dressed in red and gold. They sat low on the tribunes, near the middle and away from either of their respective families. Are you especially  interested  in seeing any of the games, Lady Valerie? asked Isenwald.


    Not as such, she replied. I find them all interesting. Though I suppose I am always amazed by how the archers are able to ce their arrows so perfectly at such a distance. Whenever I attempt archery, I can barely hit the target.


    I can rte, Isenwald said. Being trained at swordy  is not heartening when your brother  is Eumund and your uncle  is Athelstan.


    Yes, my father speaks with respect of your uncle. Will he participate in the tournament now that he has returned? Valerie asked.


    I  do not  think so, he never  did before, he told her. But Eumund will be  in both the joust and the grand fight.


    We will cheer for him, Valerie said.


    That will make him d. He hopes to  do well and make  our father proud.


    Your father is fortunate to have two such fine sons. My father would be happy, I think, with just one, Valerie said with a wry smile.


    I  do not think any number  of sons would make my father happy, Isenwald spected. He has  other wishes. But  I am very happy your father has a daughter.


    You will make me blush, Valerie said, looking downwards. I confess your letters at times have simr effect.


    I am d to hear  it, Isenwald replied, himself staring upwards into the sky. I  did fear that perhaps you wrote to me  only from courtesy and nothing more.


    Far from it, Valerie said quietly. Unless that is your cause for writing to me? she asked suddenly, looking at him.


    Not at all, he hastened to say. No, your kindness shines through  in every word. It gives me reason to smile.


    I have never before heard that kindness was a virtue extolled by poets. If it can even be called that.


    Perhaps not, Isenwald granted. But  it seems rare to me, and  it makes you seem all the more precious, he said, once more looking away. Valerie did not reply as she too was busy looking in another direction. After a few moments, one hand between them managed to search its way to its counterpart, and they locked fingers.


    Eumund moved through the spectators until he reached his own family. Out on the square, they were still setting up for the archery contest, which was the first of the three games to be held. Eumund! his father greeted him. Are you prepared?


    I believe so, the young man said solemnly. I have trained all I could.


    I do not doubt it. You will bring glory to our house, Isenhart said. Much needed since your uncle will not involve himself.


    These tournaments are for the young hotspurs to prove themselves, Athelstan said mildly. Or for those who might need the prize money, he added as his gaze fell on a knighting from the same direction as Eumund. Well met, Sir William, Athelstan spoke up in greeting to the knight. He was some thirty years of age and d for battle as Eumund was. I did not know you were in Middanhal. Has the tournament lured you here?


    It does attract me, Sir Athelstan, though I was already in the city, William said and inclined his head. My greetings, my lord, he added, directed at the jarl.


    Greetings. The jarls voice was disinterested as he turned his attention back towards the square.


    This is my nephew, Eumund, Athelstan introduced. You will face him in the tournament.


    I look forward to it. If you will pardon me, I must make my preparations. They will not let me fight with my own blunted sword, so I must spend some time acquainting myself with the one they will provide.


    Of course, Sir William. Best of fortunes to you, Athelstan replied as the knight took his leave. Keep an eye out for him, Athelstan warned his nephew. That is none other than Sir William of Tothmor.


    The one they call the Unyielding? Eumund said surprised. That is him? Who fought by your side in the hignds?


    The same, Athelstan nodded. He was scarcely older than you are now yet old enough to make his name. As you may do today, he added smiling, pping his nephew on the shoulder.


    I need to choose one of my cousins to be my sergeant for the joust, Eumund said, ncing around. The Order has not yet given me one. As his eyes fell on his brother and Valerie, they narrowed. Father, have you not told Isenwald that he is not to marry the daughter of Vale after all?


    Isenhart looked up at where his oldest son sat and then back at the square. I may have forgotten, he muttered. It is no matter. Let Vale be unsuspecting until the Adalthing.


    As you say, Eumund acquiesced with a reluctant voice. Well, I must make my preparations. Look for me in the joust, he said and moved forward through the stands.


    While Eumund evaluated which of his cousins he liked the least and would draft as his sergeant, Brand and Arndis approached the tribunes from the north. I have never watched the tournament from here before, Arndis said as they made their way through the spectators and stepped onto the tribunes.


    Then it is about time, Brand said. Come, we will find Sir Athelstan and introduce you. I am eager you should meet.


    Before they could proceed further, however, a youth in red and ck cloak stood up and blocked their path. This ce is not for you. Go, he said and threw his head towards the stands, take yourselves hither.


    Brands eyes narrowed in contempt. Out of my way.


    Before the red-cloaked nobleman could reply, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Be silent, you fool, Eumund told his kinsman. That is Athelstans squire. Now go and groom my horse. You will squire for me today, he spoke, pushing his cousin in the back to move him forward.


    I will miss the matches, the cousin grumbled, but another stern look from Eumund sent the boy on his way.


    Well met, Eumund, Brand said casually. Eumund did not reply; he merely sent Brand and his sister a look before he too left the tribunes.


    That seemed a bit odd, Arndis remarked.


    I saved Eumund from drowning in the river when we were pages. He cannot quite forgive me that I ced him in the awkward position of being indebted to me, Brand exined, and then he spoke again in a cheerful voice. Ah, here he is!


    Athelstan, having spotted them, had moved through his rtives and now sped Brands arm. d you are here, Brand, the knight said. And this delicate beauty must be thedy Arndis, he added, bowing deeply before her and making her blush. Athelstan turned and gestured for his kinsfolk to move aside and let him and the Arnling siblings be seated. Lady Arndis, has any of the knights for today been blessed with your favour? asked Athelstan.


    Oh no, she said shyly. I have not  no, that is not the case.


    That will soon change, Athelstan said confidently. I hear your brother is introducing you at court.


    He has, Arndis confirmed with a look at Brand. It has been a wee change from our house.


    I can imagine. I was sorry to hear about your mother, Athelstan said sympathetically. If I had known, we would have made our return with greater haste.


    It was woven by the Fates, Brand spoke in a casual tone. We are back now and looking forward.


    You should have heard this one while we were in Alczar, Athelstan said genially. Always asking questions, always making ns.


    It must have been an adventure to journey so far, to a ce so different, Arndis said.


    It was, Athelstan replied. They have many strange customs and eat fruits and bread we do not have here. They allow their women certain freedoms yet veil them to keep them shielded from others. But they have poets that may rival our skalds and old sagas, and there is honour among their warriors. I suppose it is easy to see the differences between them and us and overlook the simrities.


    I should wish to hear their poets one day, Arndis said.


    Perhaps we can invite one to court, Brand suggested. With so much trade between Adalmearc and their city, it does not sound so far-fetched.


    Perhaps, Athelstan said more doubtfully. If rtions continue to be well between us and them.


    Their next words drowned in cheers and apuse; preparations for the first game had ended, and now the contestants entered. Targets had been ced at the far end of the square, opposite the Temple, and now the finest archers in thend stepped out into the open. They hade from all over Adalrik and some from the realms beyond. Vidrevi with its vast forests and hunting grounds spawned many marksmen. Thusund had numerous isles where the inders shot small birds in flight, and the kingdom was known for the skill of its archers as well. Hthiod in addition was renowned for its longbowmen, who were in demand as guards everywhere. Scores of these shooters from all over the realms now lined up and prepared topete for the prize.


    ~~~~


    Nichs blinked a few times as he looked east towards where the sun was slowly climbing up the horizon, though it was still mostly covered by the Weolcan Mountains. He nced around and saw banners flying tall, which told him the direction of the wind and its force. On either side of him continued the line of archers, and behind them were many more. Since there was no limit as to how many might enter the contest, they were too many topete at once. There were fifteen targets at the other end, and fifteen archers stepped forward on the marked line. Only the five best might proceed from this initial sorting of who had skill and who had simply wasted their silver.


    Overseers from the guilds stood on either side of the line to watch that everything went ording to fairness and that nobody interfered with the archers and their shots. Likewise, their counterparts stood at the opposite end of the square to judge once the arrows hadnded; for now, they kept a wide berth to the targets, just in case. The overseers gave signal to prepare. Earlier, Nichs had strung his bow; now he pulled out a band of arrows from his travel bag that were wrapped in thick wool to protect them from water. He loosened the band and took out one arrow, cing the rest on top of the sack after he had checked the fletching and that the feathers were in prime condition.


    Returning to the line, Nichs ced the arrow on the bowstring and drew it back a few times, testing its strength and cement. He raised the bow, withdrew the string entirely, and slowly loosened it again. He repeated this manoeuvre a few times, raising the bow higher up in judgement of the arc that the arrow would take to its target. Finally came another signal to be ready to loosen arrows. Nichs took deep breaths and exhaled slowly. He ced one finger above the arrow, two below, and pulled the bowstring back until the fingertips on his right hand touched the corner of his mouth. He raised the bow in calction of the angle and waited, continuing his breathing rhythm.


    Release! yelled an overseer. Nichs waited until he exhaled again and then released the bowstring. As the arrow flew upwards into the sky, it was out of sight for a moment before it descended and impaled itself against its target. It was a good shot, though from this distance he could not judge his precisionpared to the other archers. A clerk quickly moved down the line, jotting down their names and position in the line.


    Nichs from Tothmor, he said absentmindedly as the clerk made a few marks. Then he retreated to allow the next group of archers to step forward to the line.


    They continued in this manner and weeded out most of the contestants. The overseers quickly mentioned the names of those who continued to the second round. Nichs waited with bated breath until he heard his name announced. Then he checked his bowstring and picked out another arrow. Again, he let his finger cautiously run over the feathers and felt them bend slightly to his touch. Satisfied, he returned to the line when second round began. He nocked the arrow and drew the bowstring. Waited until the order came to release, exhaled, and let go of the bowstring. Felt the roar of the crowd in his ears. Gave his name to the scribe keeping record and stepped back.


    This continued shot after shot with the targets being moved further back after the first few rounds. Arrow after arrow until only three archers were left, Nichs among them. Another was a native of Adalrik from the northern forest borders, and the third was a brute of a man from Thusund. The reason for why the field was narrowed to exactly three became apparent when an apprentice from the artisans guild came with three jars. Each held a different colour, blue, green, and yellow. The archers were told to take out two arrows. Then the shaft of both arrows for each archer was brushed casually with one colour so each of them had their own hue. One arrow they stuck down between the paved stones of the square; the other arrow they all ced on the bowstring.


    First to hit the rabbit wins. No arrows until the g is waved, said one of the clerks in charge of thepetition. Nichs drew back the bowstring and held it ready. In the other end of the square, more than two hundred yards away, a rabbit was released. Dogs were kept nearby and barked loudly, frightening it into a sprint away from the crowds and out into the open square. The g was waved to signal the archers.


    Nichs arm was barely kept still. Drawing his bow required tremendous strength, and while archery training also built up strength, he would normally release the string as soon as it was drawn back. The effort to hold it drawn was on the verge of making his arm tremble. He struggled to maintain a firm grip and narrowed his eyes to spot a small ball of white running across the square. Next to him, he heard one of the other archers shoot, but he kept steady and the string pulled back. Only when a lull in the wind could be felt did he release his arrow. Immediately afterwards he heard the third archer shoot his arrow as well.


    A g waved to signal the rabbit had been hit. There was no need to start anew. An overseer moved forward and examined the killing arrow. Green! he yelled across the square while all the crowds were silent. Nichs dove down to grab the arrow in front of him, staring at the colour of the shaft as he pulled it up. Then a smile broke out across his face and he lifted the arrow into the sky, stepping forward in front of the other archers. Apuse erupted like thunder and he raised his other hand holding the longbow in triumph.


    The guildsmen ushered him towards the tribunes where the prince and his retinue were seated. While the rest of the nobles merely sat on benches and had to rely on good weather, actual tall chairs were built with a canopy above for the prince, his mother, and the dragonlord.


    A fine shot, Elis said. The realm is proud to have an archer of your mettle to grace ourpetition.


    Thank you, milord, Nichs said bowing deeply.


    Sigmund, his mother whispered, giving him a little push.


    The young prince cleared his throat and spoke. Well done, Nichs from Tothmor. I name you champion of the bow. This purse is yours in celebration of your victory. A servant ced a heavy pouch of silver in Nichs hand. This figurine is that all may see and remember you are the finest archer in thend, the prince added, and a small statuette carved in ivory was then given to Nichs as well, directly from the princes hand into Nichs. It was exquisitely formed to show an archer about to shoot an arrow.


    Thank you, Your Highness, Nichs said, bowing deeply again, before the overseers ushered him away. The loud roars of emotion and apuse seemed to fade as it became clear that the archery contest was over. The workmen began preparing for the joust, leading to a pause in the games, and peoples attention dispersed in every direction.


    ~~~~


    While the guildbourers dismantled the archery targets and put up the fences for the joust, people began to move about. Peddlers sold wineskins, and others retired to nearby taverns for ale; meanwhile, the knights and their squires or sergeants brought their horses to the square and began to make ready as well. While the grand fight was the highlight of the games, there was plenty of excitement for the joust, and people were soon eagerly taking and making wagers.


    Whom do you favour in the joust, Sir Athelstan? asked Arndis.


    Sir Richard of Alwood has won it before. They called him Hotspur in his youth for more than one reason, said the knight smiling.


    You do not trust in your nephews chances? she continued.


    He is strong in the saddle, Athelstan admitted. But he has not yet won his spurs on the field, so to say.


    I was told that Sir Philip of Plenmont was here as well from Korndale with one of those great chargers they breed in the South, Brand added to the conversation.


    I have not seen him joust, Athelstan said. But his reputation precedes him indeed.


    We shall cheer for your kinsman regardless, Arndis promised. If Sir Eumund is like his uncle, he is sure to win.


    You are too kind, deardy, Athelstan said. I have a feeling my squire exaggerates my abilities.


    I say only the truth, Sir Athelstan, Brand imed.


    My brother has told me that you are the bestmander in all of Adalmearc, Arndis said. With greater honour than any other knight.


    Is that all? Here I feared he might have made me seem boastful, Athelstanughed. Truth of the matter is that I have only heldmand in one war. As for my honour, such is for others to recognise.


    He is also quite the silver tongue, Brand added, making Athelstanugh again.


    Nothingpared to your brother, though, Athelstan imed. He had all the courtiers in Alczar charmed. One of the children, a daughter of the Kabir no less, would follow him everywhere.


    They were merely interested in somebody so foreign to them, Brand shrugged. You will notice I have no following here.


    I am sure that wille once you earn your spurs, Athelstan smiled. If you will pardon me though. I better see Eumund before the joust begins, just to make sure he is prepared.


    Since the square was already packed with people and the structures necessary for the tournaments, there was no room for all the knights, their attendants and horses while they prepared for the joust. Hence, Athelstan had to leave the centre of the city and walk to the Citadel where the southern courtyard bristled with activity. Hundreds of knights and noblemen werepeting, and all of them were now getting ready. Their horses were being tended to and saddled, and all of them inspected their armour, shield, and helmet.


    Have you checked your stirrups? Athelstan said as he found his nephew.


    Of course, Uncle, Eumund answered. They are as they should be.


    You may find it different to ride today when it is not practice on an open field, but instead you ride in an enclosure surrounded by roaring crowds, Athelstan warned him.


    I will be fine, Uncle. I have trained to perfection.


    I know you have. You are the pride of the House of Isarn.


    I hope to be, Eumund said earnestly. Tighten the saddle strap, he said to his cousin, who was acting as his sergeant.


    I would ask something of you. I am seated next to my squire and his sister. I would have you ask thedy for her favour.


    Eumund frowned. What for? Neither she nor her brother are anything to me.


    But he is to me. Do not do it for her sake or his, but for mine. I think highly of him in the same manner I think of you or your brother.


    As you wish, Uncle, Eumund muttered; then he put his helmet on and mounted his horse.


    Along with many others, Athelstan returned to the tribunes and the stands as preparations for the joust approachedpletion. A thickyer of y and dirt had been ced where the horses would ride to spare their feet and lessen the chance of injury. Several rows of fences had been erected in the centre of the square; along these barriers, the knights and noblemen would ride as they jousted. Ten rows all in all to allow twenty contestants to ride at the same time.


    As the riders began to enter the square, excitement and tension rose among the audience. The overseers hurried to organise the knights and noblemen, make sure they kept back and moved to their correct position, but some simply rode out onto the square and greeted the crowds, who cheered in return. Some wore the colours of noble houses and rode towards where their kinsfolk sat, while others were foreigners and sought the favour of themon people. Eumund was one who rode out onto the square and towards the tribune where many of the House of Isarn were seated.


    Your favour, mydy, if you would grant it, Eumund asked, directed at Arndis. She sat taken aback, and for a moment nothing happened. Then she rose flustered and moved down to the outer fence, which separated the spectators from the contestants. She pulled her scarf from around her neck, and as Eumund bent low from atop his horse, Arndis tied it around his arm. My thanks, Eumund said gruffly.


    You are wee, sir knight, she replied and hurried back to take her seat next to her brother. There were some odd looks and stares from the many rtives of the House of Isarn, who surrounded them in their red cloaks. More than one was female and might as well have been chosen by Eumund to honour with his victories, but it was considered most discourteous to interfere when a warrior asked ady for her favour. Hence, none did more than simply stare, and Eumund rode undisturbed to the other end of the square to take his ce for the first round of jousts.


    With hundreds having entered thepetition, there were going to be several rounds, much like with the archery contest. First, twenty riders took up position, ten at each end of the jousting fences. A herald stepped out in front of the tribunes and raised his hands tomand silence. It did not happen instantly, but the mour of the crowd died down sufficiently that the herald might speak.


    He announced the names of all twenty knights and noblemen in the first joust and then gave a signal. A silver horn was blown, and twenty men on mounts charged forward against their designated opponents. Dust enveloped thebatants kicked up by the hooves of their horses. Twentynces crashed against twenty shields, and for a moment, everybody in the audience was breathless. A terrible noise came as the riders shed, followed by roars rising from the crowds asnces splintered and several of the contestants were unhorsed.


    The handful of men so unlucky stood up again, spitting dust while their attendants rushed out to grab a hold of their horses. The overseers were frantically writing down results. Some riders had remained on their horses, but so had their opponents, which meant both were out. The only ones to advance to the next round were those who had forced their adversaries to kiss the ground.


    The sound is so deafening, Arndis said. It surprises me every year.


    Athelstan nodded. Keeping a calm head is not easy in such conditions. I do not miss being on the field.


    Not even the glory? Brand asked. The honour gained?


    When I was young, it did hold much appeal. But I have grown old, I suppose, Athelstan mused. Unlike Sir Richard, he added with a chuckle.


    He rides now, Brand said, gesturing to the aforementioned knight as he took position in the near end of the square.


    Is Sir Eumund on the field? asked Arndis.


    I will alert you when he is, Athelstan said smiling.


    Twenty more riders, all of them knights of the Order except for one nobleman from Vidrevi, took their ce opposite each other. The herald shouted their names, gave a signal, and the silver horn blew a rumbling note. Twenty horses thundered against each other; half their riders fell to the ground. Dust and cheers surrounded thencers, and a few were confident enough to wave and return the crowds adorations, Sir Richard of Alwood among them. He rode out of the square and dismounted, letting his sergeant grab the reins of the horse. Well performed, milord.


    He was greener than his spurs, Richard spoke dismissively. A silkworm, hardly a challenge. Where is my wine? The sergeant handed him a skin, which the knight opened and ced against his mouth until his cheeks had same colour as the wine.


    It is early to partake, said Sir Philip of Plenmont as he walked by. He himself was holding a tankard of light ale, which was scarcely stronger than water. Not even noon if I read the sun correctly.


    It will only make my victory all the more impressive, Richard smiled and gestured with the wineskin while Philip mounted his horse and entered the square.


    You are drinking early, Eumund said as he passed by, having won his joust.


    Himils balls! Do not start as well, Richard eximed sourly.


    Who of them look strong? asked Eumund.


    Sir Philip is not bad for a garlic eater, Richard said in a casual voice.


    I do not see any of the House of Vale jousting, Eumund remarked.


    They do not want to get their hands dirty, Richardughed. They prefer to pay others to do the fighting. Be calm, Eumund, there are plenty of silkworms out there for you to knock down.


    The joust continued for more than an hour at full speed until the number of contestants had shrunk considerably; at that point, a break was called. Less than twenty remained, all of them knights of the Order; a small handful hailed from Korndale, one or two from the western realms, and the rest were from Adalrik. They took the time to tend to their horses. They were not allowed to switch mounts once the joust had begun, so extraordinary care was shown.


    The guildbourers had work to do as well before the joust continued, recing a few of the fences that had taken some abuse. One particrly unlucky knight from Ealond had been knocked off his horse, but his stirrups had been improperly adjusted and his left boot had been caught. Therefore, instead of being pushed back cleanly, the left stirrup had retained its hold on him, and the momentum had swung him onto the fence. A few priestesses of Idisea were tending to him, though fortunately for him his armour saved his spine from snapping in twain.


    Has your opinion of the oue changed, Sir Athelstan, asked Brand, now that we have seen our knights in action?


    Athelstan scratched his cheek. Sir Philip has lived up to his reputation, I must say. I do not think I have seen stronger performance than he disys.


    I would hold with your previous assessment. I have notid eyes on Sir Richard before this day, but I ce my trust in him, Brand ventured to say.


    Neither of you should count Sir Eumund out, Arndis said, defending her champion. He shows excellent horsemanship.


    Indeed mydy, you are most observant. Still, Sir Philip seems by my judgement to hit his targets perfectly.


    Should we make a wager? asked Brand. I would venture a hundred silver that says Sir Richard proves my faith justified.


    Brand! Arndis eximed.


    He has a habit of drinking wine early, Athelstan said, not too loudly. Knowing that, I cannot in good honesty take such a wager from you.


    And you should not be making wagers at all, Arndis admonished him sternly. It is not a good habit, Brother.


    Peace, Sister, peace, Brand conceded, throwing his hands up. The stake shall merely be the honour of having the keenest eye.


    Cheers and apuse could be heard as the remaining knights rode into the arena. Now that they were less than twenty, they had ample space to ride up and down the square and receive the des of the adoring crowds. Philip wasted no time in winning the hearts of many, while both Richard and Eumund kept away; Richard was emptying his wineskin while Eumund was checking his stirrups. They both mounted their horses as the herald stepped forward to silence the spectators and announce the next round of jousts.


    Nine riders moved to one end of the square to face their opponents. Their squires and sergeants gave themnces and stepped away. A silver horn sounded the signal, and the knights spurred their horses forward. Once again, the sound of hooves against the ground and the gasps of the crowd werebined withnces splintering against shields and men in armour striking the ground. For a moment, everything was confusion, and all eyes darted everywhere to see what horses were now without rider.


    Not that many as it turned out. In more than onene, none of the riders had managed to throw the other from his horse, and both had to leave thepetition. Philip raised the splinters of hisnce with a victorious roar, having already seen his counterpart dive through the air. The overseers huddled together in conference until the herald could announce that only seven knights advanced to the next round. As an uneven number, only six of them would ride against each other. The seventh would be given a pause, and asst years winner, Richard was given this privilege.


    Do not worry about getting your rest, shouted one knight to Richard. You will soon be on your back in the dirt anyway, heughed before riding to take his position.


    Who was that? Richard scowled.


    Sir Thomas of Coldharbour, I believe, said his sergeant. I hear he won a tournament earlier this year in Ealond.


    A Vale man, Richard said with contempt. Tell the overseers I want to ride against Sir Thomas, he told his sergeant, adding extra disdain upon speaking Thomas title. We will see if he can use hisnce better than his mouth.


    Yes, milord, the sergeant said, leaving to convey Richards wish.


    Without further dy, the six knights rode against each other. This time, it was obvious that the chaff had been sorted away and only the wheat remained. All threenes were resolved and saw a rider unhorsed. Constant cheers rose at the sight of such skill in jousting, and the excitement was boiling among all who looked. With only four knights remaining, the herald allowed himself to borate on his announcement.


    Great prince, he called out, venerable Lady Isabel, my lords anddies, men and women of high and low birth, people of Middanhal, and all who havee from every corner of Adalmearc! The four greatest knights in the realms remain and will joust to please your eyes, thrill your hearts, and win your adoration!


    He raised his hand and gestured to one corner. Sir Philip of Plenmont, a most noble knight from Korndale and known throughout all thends for his skill with thence, which is without peer! The crowds responded with much cheer.


    The herald pointed to another corner of the square. Sir Eumund of Isarn, made knight only days ago and yet proving himself stronger than many others! Louder ps and cries, and many sitting with red and ck cloaks on the tribunes smiled and looked satisfied.


    The herald turned to the third corner. Sir Thomas of Coldharbour, the winner of tournaments throughout the realm, whose glory is only surpassed by his valour! He was the least known of the four remaining knights, which meant a more subdued response from the onlookers except from the kinsfolk of the House of Vale; Coldharboury in their territory.


    Finally, the herald could point to the fourth corner. Sir Richard of Alwood,st years champion in the joust! While the House of Vale cheered for Sir Thomas and the House of Isarn cheered for Eumund, themoners cheered for Richard, and the square exploded in noise. Since we are so close to finding our champion, the herald announced, the final two jousts will be fought one at a time. And to ensure they are both resolved satisfactorily, they will ride until one unhorses the other!


    Why are they changing the rules? asked Brand.


    If neither rider throws his opponent from his horse, they both forfeit by the normal rules, Athelstan exined. Now, they must ride until one wins decisively and can challenge Sir Richard or Sir Thomas in the final joust.


    Athelstan was forced to be silent as the herald spoke again. Sir Philip and Sir Eumund will ride first!


    The knights lined up to face each other. People pressed against the outer fences in anticipation. Athelstan and Brand both leaned forward while Arndis bit her lower lip. The silver horn was sounded, and the knights rode against each other. Onence splintered, one nced off its target; Eumund was pushed back from his horse and fell to the ground while Philip triumphantly rode on.


    A shame about Eumund, said Brand.


    It is his first tournament, Athelstan said with a light tone of voice. He has acquitted himself well on that ount. And young hotspur that he is, he will also take part of the grand fight afterwards.


    We shall wish for his victory then, Arndis proimed.


    You are kind not to withdraw your favour, Athelstan smiled. But first let us see the end of the joust and whom Sir Philip faces.


    Richard rode to one end of the square on his mare while Thomas of Coldharbour took position opposite. Thetter wore a scornful smile at the sight of Richards horse, which was significantly less impressive than his own charger. Richard threw a wineskin to his sergeant, adjusted his shield, and epted ance. Sentiments were simmering, especially considering Thomas was a southerner and Richard was a northerner. While most spectators might prefer a champion who hailed from Adalrik, there were many who would rather see Philip from Korndale win than someone from the wrong half of Adalrik. The silver horn was sounded once more. A sh of metal, wood, training, and skill. Richardsnce struck true, Thomas less so. Thetter was sent flying while Richard rode on to the cheers of the audience.


    Seems we both judged well, Athelstan remarked. Either I will be right about Sir Philip or you will be about Sir Richard.


    Last chance to lose a hundred silver, Brand said wryly.


    Brand! came the interjection again from Arndis.


    I jest, Sister, only a jest. Knowing I am right when Sir Richard knocks Sir Philip off his horse is worth more than coin.


    We shall see, Athelstanughed.


    The herald once more took his time to make introductions of thest two knights, now jousting to be champion. Sir Philip, he shouted, the winner of many tournaments in Korndale, Ealond, Hthiod. In all of Korndale, no knight stands his equal. Hisnce strikes with perfection, and nobody so far has stood against him and made him flinch! Sir Philip raised hisnce high andmanded the apuse of the crowd.


    The herald turned to announce the other knight. Sir Richard, he yelled once more, margrave of Alwood and a credit to the people of Theodstan. In all of Adalrik, nobody is as fearsome with ance as he is! Now he may prove that the same holds true for all of Adalmearc! Sir Richard raised his hand in salutation to the crowd before he imed hisnce from his sergeant.


    Take positions, good knights, and be prepared to be made champion! The silver horn was blown and both knights spurred their horses forward. The crowd became breathless, and all sounds disappeared except hooves against y and stone beneath. Lances struck and splintered. One knight was lifted off his horse and fell to the ground.


    Tension was so high that for a moment nobody seemed to fathom who had won and who had lost. Tongues were tied and eyes wide open as one horse stopped without its rider while the victorious knight threw the remains of hisnce to the ground. Then the tension erupted into cheers and chants.


    Sir Richard! Sir Richard! Sir Richard! The knight removed his helmet, revealing his red face and grin, and he threw the helmet into the crowd in sheer jubtion.


    Philip hobbled over, removing his helmet as well. Well fought, Philip admitted.


    And you, sir knight, Richard replied, nodding to his defeated opponent before turning to wave at the adoring crowds. An overseer gestured for Richard to approach the tribune, which the knight ignored for as long as he pleased. Finally though, he steered his horse over to where the prince sat and dismounted. Hisck of height meant he disappeared entirely behind his horse, and an official took the reins so that he might step forward.


    Congrattions, said Sigmund. You must be strong to win the joust again.


    Thank you, my prince, grinned Richard. The secret is that I present a smaller target than these knights are ustomed to, heughed. This evoked some nervousughter among the nobility seated around the prince, though his mother quickly elbowed her son.


    Sir Richard of Alwood, I name you champion of the horse. As a reward for your victory, this purse is yours, the prince said, and a heavy purse of silver was given to Sir Richard, heavier than that which Nichs from Tothmor had received. And this is yours as well as a token of your skill, the prince added and gave Richard an ivory figurine of a jousting rider. Richard bowed deeply, pocketed the ivory piece, and opened the purse of silver. As he walked away,ughing once more, he dug his hands into the purse and began to throw the silver in every direction into the crowd.


    ~~~~


    The people had been spellbound, but now that the joust was over, they scattered in every direction. It was afternoon, and although the grand fight was yet to be held, there was a natural lull in the excitement. Most were contemting food and drink, the main cause of why many now left the stands. Some on the tribunes remained in ce, however, and had food brought to them.


    Theodoric, where are you going? Holebert will be here any moment with our meal, said Theodwyn.


    You may begin without me, Sister, answered the jarl of Theodstan. I shall return before long. Before his sister could protest further, the jarl swiftly left his seat and moved through the tribunes. The cloaks in red and gold of the House of Vale were displeased to let him pass, but his grim and gaunt appearance helped make way as did his status as jarl. May we speak privately, my lord? Theodoric asked as he reached Valerian. With a curious expression, the jarl of Vale gestured for room to be made. The jarls brother and his chambein remained, however, and Valerian made no move to dismiss them. epting this, Theodoric took a seat.


    Congrattions on your champion, said Valerian.


    While I would hazard to say that Sir Richard won mostly for his own sake, he does shine some glory on the whole jarldom of Theodstan, said Theodoric. He is a poor margrave but a good friend, and I am d for his victory.


    I do not feel envious though, imed Valerian. Considering how much wine from Ealond is being consumed today, I feel like the true winner of all the games today.


    Yes, it is excellent as ever. You really must send me a jar before I leave the city.


    I shall send you a barrel, promised Valerian. But I doubt you came here to discuss the matters of trade or ask for petty favours.


    I will be in, Valerian, said the jarl of Theodstan after a brief pause. What are your ns for the Adalthing?


    You may ask, answered the jarl of Vale. But a merchant does not show his ledger to his rivals.


    I asked mostly out of courtesy, countered Theodoric. I am well aware of your attempts to buy the support of more than onendgrave. I might almost feel hurt that you have not asked me. I do bring seven margraves with me.


    Perhaps I do not need your noblemen, said Valerian.


    Another negotiation tactic, smiled Theodoric. You would have me believe the majority is secured already?


    Believe what you wish, Theodoric, for it makes no difference to me.


    I do not need to believe. Isarn will oppose you at every turn. And I have it on good authority that Ingmond is not supporting you.


    Whose authority? Valerian was quick to ask.


    My own, Theodoric said casually.


    I do not need Ingmond. With all my margraves, I could win the vote even if no other jarl supports me.


    If, Theodoric said forcefully, if all thendgraves and both the atheling houses follow you. Now that seems a stretch.


    So have youe to offer me your votes? How many barrels might that cost me? asked Valerian, which made Theodoricugh. Or perhaps, Valerian continued, you seek another form ofpensation. Are you seeking to be seneschal once more, Theodoric?


    This evoked another outburst ofughter from the jarl of Theodstan. I have had my fill, I think. It is a good position for making enemies. When I lost the kings grace, I was surprised the Adalthing did not demand my head on a spike.


    Come now, Theodoric, that is overly dramatic, Valerian admonished. We hardly ever execute people in Adalrik. Now exile would have been my guess. I was surprised you were allowed to remain jarl.


    Because I did not make enemies with you, Theodoric said. I was always careful to never antagonise you, Valerian. Because unlike Isenhart I know a deal can always be made with you.


    Yet you have still not mentioned what you propose.


    I wish to make Sir Reynold the lord protector.


    A snort of disbelief came from Valerian. The lord marshal? You do not thinkmanding the Order is enough? You would give him all civil power as well?


    I would entrust it with him in the way a man ces his most valuable possession in his strongest lockbox. Sir Reynold has no designs on this power. He will merely keep it until our prince can take the throne.


    Tell me, my lord jarl, interceded Valerians brother Konstans, if a man will not use power, is he deserving of it? We do not give sharp swords to boys who cannot wield them.


    No, answered Theodoric. But we do know to keep torches away frommp oil. Thisnd, this realm is a firetrap waiting to burn everything into cinders. If the wrong man is elected lord protector, it will set me to firewood.


    Valerian ced his fingertips against each other as he leaned forward in contemtion. What does Theodstan offer Vale for helping to keep the mes at bay? For if you will not see me as lord protector, nor can you abide that I take office of seneschal, surely.


    You have matters you would wish for the Adalthing to support you in, surely, Theodoric said. Matters that are of no concern to me, and hence my voice and my margraves could be counted upon to support you.


    That is a very vague offer, Valerian smiled while watching the square,pared to the very real power of being lord protector.


    You have always expressed an interest in the marble trade in Heohlond, Theodoric mentioned. Yet they are not fond of southerners that far north, are they. I, on the other hand, am their neighbour. There is much I could do to facilitate a foothold for you in the hignds.


    Tempting, Valerian said, though his tone of voice was rather disinterested. But not nearly enough.


    Theodoric took a deep breath. Guardianship of the prince. This had the effect of making both Valerian and Konstans turn their heads immediately to face Theodoric. It is only right that the prince is introduced to the matters of government by someone skilled in handling them. And it is our custom to send our sons to live with our peers and learn how to be men, Theodoric continued.


    Both the kingthanes and his mother have objected to the prince being sent out of Middanhal or bing ward to any nobleman, Konstans imed.


    And the king listened to them. But he is gone, and if the lord protectormands, they must obey.


    If I may humbly say my opinion, milord, interjected Valerians chambein, Arion, and all heads turned towards him where he stood behind his jarl. I agree with his lordship. Valcaster will be a good ce for the prince to stay and learn. Perhaps be more amenable to the South.


    Valerian turned to his right to look at his brother, who nodded slightly. Then he turned to his left to look at Theodoric again. I make no promise yet. But if I do lend my voice to Sir Reynold, guardianship of the prince will be considered fairpensation. Valerian extended his hand, and Theodoric grasped it with both hands, using all nine of his fingers and the stump that had once been his left little finger.


    Agreed, Theodoric said satisfied.


    The jarl of Theodstan stood up and took leave. When he was gone, Valerian turned to Konstans. It sounds like a step down from lord protector to merely be the princes guardian.


    We will consider that our secondary aim, Konstans shrugged, if we cannot secure our primary goal. Arion is right. A king who looks upon the South as more than merelynds and people to tax would be wee.


    I live to serve, the chambein said and bowed deeply. If you will pardon me, there are a few matters I should attend to.


    Having excused himself, Arion left the tribunes and searched around the square. He had to ask a few times and eventually paid some street boys a few copper coins to help him locate his target. Nichs from Tothmor? asked Arion, to which the archer from Hthiod nodded. My congrattions on your victory. I am chambein for the jarl of Vale, who wishes to retain your services.


    My services? He wants to hire me?


    Indeed. My lord employs many skilled soldiers and archers, and he is always looking to find more. As the richest man in Adalrik, being in his employ can be most gainful.


    Tell him thanks, said Nichs, but only I came here to win the tournament.


    For an archer of your mettle, Arion added, my lord would be d to pay seven silver a day if you are at his disposal.


    That is most generous, Nichs admitted, but I do not intend to stay in Middanhal for much longer.


    That is a shame, Arion said. He could have used an archer of your skill. Best of luck to you, Master Nichs, the chambein finished and disappeared into the crowds, which had begun to filter back towards the Temple square. The guildsmen had finished the next set of preparations, and thest and biggest attraction of the solstice was about to begin.


    ~~~~


    The grand fight was thest of the three games held at solstice. It carried the most prestige and the greatest prize; in earlier times, it had been the only game, and anybody skilled with a de might join. The contestants would be sorted into two teams. With a discreet delivery of coin, one could also ensure which team to end up on; this was useful for fighters who knew each other beforehand.


    The rules were quite simple. Once the signal was given, both sides charged each other on foot and hacked away at each other until only members of one team remained in the fight. All those left standing were given a share of the prize money, and the captain of the thanes had the honour of naming a champion. This was because originally the grand fight had been arranged as a trial for new warriors to join the thanes of the king. It was still custom that any who reached the end of the grand fight be asked to join the kings guard, though the captain of the thanes might extend or rescind this offer at his discretion.


    The only rules were in regards to weaponry. Only blunted des were permitted. Actual blunt weapons like hammers or maces were not allowed since they might inflict serious injury even to armoured opponents. Otherwise, the two sides simply fought until everybody on one side no longer could or wanted to get up and continue. It was an orgy of violence, and the crowds, nobles andmoners alike, were most enthusiastic about it. Trumpets rang as the warriors marched onto the square and each team lined up. Their helmets had been painted either white or ck to tell them apart oncebat began.


    See that warrior, the tall one nearest us, with a helmet marked white? asked Athelstan.


    Yes, Brand said. Is he one to watch?


    No, Athelstan replied. But next to him, even closer to us, you find Sir William of Tothmor.


    The one who is called the Unyielding? Arndis eximed. He is in the tournament this year?


    He is, Athelstan told them. I have never seen a better warrior than him, except when the captain Theobald was in his prime.


    We shall see if you are better at predicting the winner of the grand fight than you were concerning the joust, Brand taunted him good-naturedly.


    How did you guess that Sir Richard would win? I thought Sir Philip seemed invincible, asked Athelstan.


    Sir Richard is short and does not tire his horse so quickly. Which by the way might seem clumsy, but I would judge it to have the strength of an ox. After so many rounds, the joust bes a battle of endurance, Brand pointed out.


    Sir Athelstan, did you say your kinsman would participate in the grand fight as well? asked Arndis as she scouted the two ranks of warriors.


    In the far end, among the ck helmets, Athelstan smiled, pointing out Eumund with his surcoat of red and ck.


    With the two rows of warriors lined up against each other, everything was ready to begin. However, the overseers were happy to let the tension build and allow the warriors to inspect each other. Over two hundred des had been drawn; some wielded with both hands and some paired with shields. Outbursts could be heard from the audience as people cried out the names of their favourites, spurring them onwards to action. Finally, the guild official gave a nod to the horn blower by his side, who made a single note. At once the sound was drowned by the war cries of more than two hundred throats as the warriors stormed forward and shed. Soon, nothing could be heard but the song of metal and the cries of men.


    Within moments, everything was utter chaos. The orderly battle line disintegrated with ck and white helmets shing everywhere, sometimes literally. Constantly opponents sought each other out and traded blows. Due to the armour and blunted edges, these fights rarely ended because either party was incapacitated, but simply because the tide of battle pulled duellists apart and other challengers appeared. The constant, violent movements made it near impossible to follow any onebatant, and the crowd was mostly reduced to simply watching blows exchanged between those warriors closest to the stands. But their outbursts of excitement made it clear that none were dissatisfied at the spectacle offered by the grand fight.


    Soon, the first casualties became apparent. Despite the precautions, armour did not protect every part of the body, and even if made with a dull sword, a certain number of blows would make any man disinclined to stand up again. The priestesses of Idisea and they brothers were watching from the sidelines, and on asion, they dove into the battlefield to drag a man out whom they had spotted in need of urgent assistance. The rest were left to crawl away by their own devices or to remain lying on the cobbled stones. A few times a warrior might valiantly get up and attempt to return to the fight, but a quick blow usually sent them back and dissuaded them of the notion a second time.


    Only a small handful of the original two hundred or so remained. Away from the tribunes, a single white helmet was battling several adversaries. Nearer the tribune, primarily ck-painted helmets now spread out and began to surround a small core of white helmets. Arndis pped her hands as she saw Eumund in ck strike past a shield and into the side of his opponent.


    Eumund always did well when we trained as pages, Brand said.


    He is a true son of Isarn, Athelstan said proudly.


    Inch by inch and blow by blow, the remaining ck helmets carved into the white contestants. It was not without cost and their numbers dwindled, but the advantage they had gained was clear. A white warrior attempted to get up, but a slender, adroit warrior wearing ck mmed a shield into the fallenbatants face, and he made no further attempts. All in all, five ck warriors remained at one end, Eumund among them. They all came to a halt, catching their breath and ncing around. As theyposed themselves, they discovered what all the crowds now watched intently; it was the single remaining white helmet.


    At the far end of the square, opposite the Temple, he parried a blow from one opponent and rammed the lower point of his triangr shield into the throat of another; then he turned and used his shield again to bash the sword away from his first enemy. Before thetter could recover, the white warrior followed through on his movement and made aplete spin so that his sword hammered into his opponents helmet. With groans, both enemies remained on the ground. The white warrior took a few steps forward and stood calmly awaiting the remaining five ck helmets by the tribunes. Eumund nced at his fourrades and beckoned them all to fan out and attack.


    Sir William, Athelstan said with a voice that hinted of knowledge of the inevitable. Watch.


    The five warriors with ck helmets surrounded their prey like wolves, but they were not co-ordinated as such. When the first attacked, the others followed only with some hesitation and the knight needed nothing more. William used his shield to turn the first blow away, forcing the attacker into hisrades path and thereby foiling both assaults. Moving swiftly out of range of the others, William followed up with his sword to punish those he had brought out of bnce while keeping his shield ready for further attacks. The numerical superiority was turned to nothing, and in this manner, one, two, three ck helmets were soon struck down. Only Eumund and the short, slender warrior who exhibited skills in mming shields remained to face William.


    Having gained a better understanding of their foe, Eumund and the short warrior kept their distance and exchanged looks. They circled around to stand on either side of William. Then they nodded to each other and both struck. William caught both their blows; he stopped Eumund on his right with his own sword, the unknown warrior on his left with his shield. Being stronger and having the full size of the shield at his disposal, William pushed back on his left so his shorter opponent was forced backwards. While he did this, he pulled his sword away from Eumunds; the sudden absence of resistance forced Eumund to take a step forward to regain his bnce.


    This gave William the blink of an eye to follow up against the shorter of his enemies. If he were to turn his sword around to use the tip for the blow or to pull his shield back and then push it forward again, it would take too much time. Therefore, he simply kept the same path that his sword had taken when he extricated it from Eumunds

 Chapter 6: The Voice of the Adalthing

    Chapter 6: The Voice of the Adalthing


    The Voice of the Adalthing


    Middanhal


    On the morning following the summer solstice, Kate knocked once again on the library door while carrying a bowl of porridge. She waited briefly but had no answer. In the end, she opened the door regardless and stepped inside. She found Quill sleeping across a table with arge book open in front of him. Master Quill? she said quietly, but nothing happened. She ced the bowl on the table and stood staring at him until she finally took hold of his shoulder and shook him. He woke with a start, making her quickly step backwards.


    What is happening?


    Its morning, Master Quill, Kate said, pointing at the bowl. I brought you that.


    I see, Quill said, blinking and looking out the eastward window. Thank you, child.


    Did you stay awakest night, master?


    Apart from the end, apparently. Had to reacquaint myself with this one, he said, tapping the big book in front of him.


    What is it? asked Kate interested, leaning forward.


    Too difficult for you to read, Quill chuckled. It is the book ofws. All thews that govern Adalrik are written here, including all pertaining to the Adalthing and the election of a lord protector.


    Oh, said Kate. Whats a lord protector?


    A title that has not been in use for a long time. A lord protector is like a recement for a king until our heir is old enough to be crowned.


    Like the seneschal?


    To some extent. The seneschal, or dragonlord, does have most of the powers of the king. But he is still appointed by the king, acting as his right hand, and he answers to the king. A lord protector takes the position a king would, naming his own dragonlord to serve him. The lord protector answers to none until such time as our prince will be made king.


    How does one be lord protector?


    The nobles of the Adalthing choose one. If they can agree, Quill added with a wry smile.


    That sounds strange, said Kate. How can people choose a ruler? I thought you ruled because your father did before you.


    In cases of nobility, yes, Quill exined. But rule through election is not so umon. In the viges, if you ever leave Middanhal, they will have their own local things that govern their affairs. Or here, the members of each guild choose one of their own as master of the guild, and they in turn choose an alderman.


    I never knew, admitted Kate. Imagine if we got to choose who was cook, she grinned.


    In certain special cases even the higher offices are chosen by election. Another example would be the lord marshal, Quill continued.


    The leader of the Order?


    The very same, Quill nodded. There have been times when both king and lord marshal died, killed in battle perhaps, and the Order needed a leader at once to continue the war. So the seven marshals of the realms would choose the best candidate to ensure that the Order would have a new suprememander immediately.


    But what if they cant agree? Surely that must happen, Kate pointed out.


    I am sure it does often, Quill replied. Usually there are different rules in each case. For instance, if they cannot choose a lord marshal, then the marshal of Adalrik, the knight marshal, automatically assumes the mantle. Simr protocol exists for ensuring a choice of lord protector, I am sure.


    In the distance, they heard the tolling of the morning bell. The breakfast! eximed Kate. I have to get back to the kitchen, she said and hurried out of the library. Quill turned his attention once more onto the book ofws.


    ~~~~


    Throughout the morning, the nobility of Adalrik gathered at the Citadel, convening in the hall of the Adalthing. It was built much like the throne room, except smaller in size since it was needed for fewer people; sixty-nine currently, though many of these brought attendants and kinsmen.


    In the centre was a statue of Disfara, the Judge of Men. A raised chair for the king was ced at one end, opposite the main doors that led into the hall. Apart from those, there were smaller entrances leading to various wings of the castle or to the balconies. To keep the hall from bing crowded, only members of the Adalthing, their closest kin, and perhaps a servant or two were permitted inside the hall. Others who wished to view the proceedings were relegated to the balconies.


    The alderman and some of the guild masters were there as always; although they were forced to use noblemen as their intermediaries, they often involved themselves in the Adalthing. A priest in a ck robe was present to report to the Temple. The lord marshal of the Order and the knight marshal of Adalrik were among the onlookers as well, having a particr reason for being interested in the oue of the Adalthing.


    Godfrey was also on the balcony, looking down on the assembly. While he attracted a few odd stares, he did not seem to mind. Doubtless, his presence raised spections as to why the guards had permitted him entrance; it paid to be on friendly terms with the Kings Quill. Enjoying his vantage point, Godfrey nced at the faces gathered below him. The four jarls of the realm were there with the margraves from their individual provinces, their vassals, who were expected to vote as their jarl did. Each jarl stood with his attendants and his margraves in a different area of the hall, maintaining distance to his peers.


    In between were the mass ofndgraves. While the jarls and their margraves were responsible for the border provinces, thendgraves were the feudal lords of the central regions of Adalrik and direct vassals of the king. Whereas the margraves had to keep their jarls pleased, thendgraves were freer in that respect and they could often swing a vote in one direction or another. Most notable among their number was George of Elis, thendgrave who still held the office of dragonlord.


    Thest two members of the Adalthing were the lords of the atheling houses. There were only two in Adalrik; one was House Hardling, the other was House Arnling. Hardmar of Hardling was present with his brothers, while Adalbrand of Arnling was alone.


    With all sixty-nine members present in time for the noon bell to be rung, the Adalthing could begin proceedings. Quill entered the hall and stood on the lower step of the empty chair, where thete King Sighelm had sat in previous years. As keeper of thew, it was Quills task to ensure that the Adalthing abided by thews of the realm.


    My lords, Quill spoke, and the murmur in the hall died down. In his hands, he held therge book ofws that he had been studying. Another year has passed, and we gather in this hall to safeguard thew of thend and the peace of the realm. Any breach of either may be spoken today and the Adalthing shall make its decision. Anyw felt unfair or decision made unjustly may also be brought before the assembly, Quill said and paused briefly. Lastly, the assembly this year is of unusual character. A counting of voices must be held for the office of lord protector. Some mumbling spread in response to this, which Quill ignored. First, however, we must consecrate this gathering.


    Quill walked down to the statue of Disfara. It was carved in the likeness of a beautiful woman with dark hair, wearing a sea-green dress that covered her feet and flowed around them to make it look like the tail of a fish. Her eyes were emeralds and her expression stern. In one hand, she held a spear while her other hand was empty and raised in warning. Quill ced thew book on the edge of the base of the statue and called to a blue-robed priestess, who appeared with a deep bowl containing thick, red liquid. The priestess smeared the blood upon the altar while mumbling a prayer. Then Quill called for the first to step forward and participate in the sanctifying ritual.


    Lord Raymond of Ingmond, who speaks in the Adalthing. Do you swear before Disfara, who shall on yourst day be your judge, to uphold thews of Adalrik and the voice of the Adalthing? asked Quill. The jarl ced one hand upon the book ofws and the other hand upon the feet of the statue so that he touched the blood.


    I swear it, by my name and my fathers name, by the Seven and Eighth I swear it, the jarl said and leaned forward to kiss the statue on its red-stained feet. As Raymond straightened up, the priestess dipped her fingertip into the bowl of blood and touched Raymonds brow, leaving a trace of it behind.


    You are marked by the goddess, the priestess warned him. She will hold you to your oath.


    After the jarl, each of the margraves in the province of Ingmond stepped forward sessively. Quill demanded the same oath of them, and they swore it in the same manner before finally being marked by the priestess. Afterwards it continued with the other three jarls and their margraves, each of thendgraves, and finally Hardmar and Adalbrand as the atheling members.


    The Adalthing may now speak, said Quill. Under the eyes of the dragon, the raven, the bull, the horse, the bear, the hart, and the eagle, this assembly is consecrated and its word isw. The ritual was at an end.


    There will be held up to three countings of voices to appoint a lord protector, Quill called out to the hall. The first will take ce at once. Should it not be resolved, a second will be held in three hours. Should it not be resolved either, the third counting will be held at the first evening bell. For a counting to be resolved, thirty-five voices must speak in unison. The scribe looked around, ncing from one jarl to the other. First we must determine the candidates. Does the jarl of Ingmond speak a name? asked Quill.


    I do not, said Raymond.


    Does the jarl of Vale speak a name?


    I name myself, Valerian of the House of Vale.


    Does the jarl of Theodstan speak a name?


    I name Lord Marshal Reynold of Middanhal, son of Balduin, also of that city.


    Does the jarl of Isarn speak a name?


    Myself, Isenhart of Isarn, said the fourth andst jarl.


    The candidates have been determined, Quill said with a loud voice. We will hold the first counting to see if the matter can be determined swiftly. There was a momentary break as Quill cleared his throat and prepared himself. Lord Raymond, to whom do you lend your voice? he asked.


    To none, answered the jarl of Ingmond, which caused waves of murmurs to erupt in the chamber.


    What game is he ying? whispered Valerian to his brother.


    I do not know, muttered Konstans. Something is afoot of which we are not aware.


    Your attention, my lords, please, Quill called out. Does any margrave in the province of Ingmond lend his voice otherwise? There was no reply, which meant that all eleven vassals of Raymond followed their lord. Lord Valerian, to whom do you lend your voice? asked Quill.


    I lend my voice to my own candidacy, said Valerian. The sixteen margraves of Vale did as their lord. Then came the jarl of Theodstan, who along with his seven vassals spoke in favour of the lord marshal. Finally the jarl of Isarn, who voted for himself with his thirteen vassals following suit.


    Afterwards, Quill asked each of the sixteenndgraves. Some supported Isarn, some chose Vale, but none had been persuaded to vote for the lord marshal. It raised further murmurs when George of Elis did not lend his voice to any man. Finally came the atheling votes. Hardmar announced his voice was lent to Vale.


    Lord Adalbrand, to whom do you lend your voice? asked Quill.


    I lend it to none, answered Brand and stepped away from the statue of Disfara. It was customary to keep one hand on the altar while answering; in smaller matters, though, such were often overlooked. Quill looked at Brand in surprise at thetters deration and made the final tally in his head.


    Twenty-five voices have spoken for Lord Valerian. Twenty-one voices have spoken for Lord Isenhart. Quill swallowed before he continued. And eight voices speak for Sir Reynold. At this assembly, thirty-five voices must speak in unison. They have not done so. The voice of the Adalthing is silent.


    The lords of Adalrik were not simrly inclined, however, and began speaking among themselves immediately to discuss the result. Quill raised his hands and cleared his throat loudly until he had their attention again. The next counting of voices will be held in three hours time, he said, eyeing the water clock that stood to the side of the hall. Until then, other matters may be brought before the assembly. In the kings absence, the dragonlord of Adalrik will preside, Quill announced, yielding his ce to Elis.


    ~~~~


    Other matters were now discussed at the Adalthing. The new tax on salt was disputed by several of the noblemen, who had an interest in the trade; from the balcony, the alderman of the guilds watched the debate unfold. The other noblemen, who only cared about salt when they added it to their meal, meanwhile retreated into the alcoves and staircases.


    Why does Lord Elis not support us? asked Valerian. We have offered him all he could want.


    I am unsure, said Konstans. Perhaps he has a simr deal with Isarn and wishes to scout the counting beforemitting to either.


    And we cannot ask him, Valerian grumbled, shooting a nce back at the hall where Elis was engaged in debate. There are ns in motion of which we are not aware, Valerian added darkly.


    Which concerns me exceedingly, Konstans admitted. Why does Ingmond abstain? When he rejected me, I thought he was bought by Isarn. Does his piety somehow move him to avoid involvement?


    He has often neglecteding to the Adalthing in the past, Valerian pointed out.


    But he made a point of showing up, Konstans said contemtively. We need to unravel what is taking ce. Moreover, we must persuade Theodstan to join us. Surely he must see now that his ns have failed.


    Make it so, Valerian told his brother and returned to the hall.


    ~~~~


    Twenty-one? raged Isenhart, who likewise had stepped out with his brother, his sons, and his cousin.


    The southernndgraves have all swung in favour of Vale, Athelstan said. I thought we had some of them convinced, but we cannot match the coffers of Vale.


    Not even Elis is with me? Where is all the support he was meant to bring?


    We may have thought too highly of him, Athelstan considered. Or he is holding back for some reason, waiting until the next counting.


    What of Theodstan? What is this fool notion of having the lord marshal made lord protector as well?


    I had heard a rumour, admitted the jarls cousin, Athelbold. But I dismissed it as such. When I approached him to lend his voice to us, he made no mention of it.


    Because he knew I would never lend my voice to that, Isenhart said gruffly.


    Vale does not fare much better than us, Eumund added his opinion to the discussion. We must convince Theodstan, and we will have more voices for our cause than him.


    But not enough, Isenhart said with gritted teeth.


    If we can gain Theodstan, we are nearly there, and a few of the southernndgraves should return to our fold, Athelbold spected. Marcaster, probably, and some others. There are also the athelings. Hardmar is for Vale, but the other, Adalbrand, he gave his voice to none. I imagine he is keeping himself open to offers from both sides.


    Is he not your squire, brother? asked Isenhart brusquely. How can you not have persuaded him?


    He is mypanion, argued Athelstan. Not a footman in a game.


    But imagine what we may give him in return for his voice. As his friend, surely you are obligated to help him ept our generous offer, Athelbold retorted, which made Athelstan waver.


    Promise them whatever necessary, Isenhartmanded his kinsmen. He returned to the hall for the debate while Athelstan and Athelbold sought out their prospective allies. The sons of the jarl, Isenwald and Eumund, remained.


    You are silent, Brother, said Eumund tentatively.


    I  do not have much  insight with such matters, Isenwald admitted. And my mind  is elsewhere.


    Eumund scratched the back of his head. Isenwald, has Father told you about your engagement?


    I assume he will announce  itter, when the Adalthing concludes  other affairs, Isenwald said.


    That is not what I meant, Eumund said hesitantly, looking at his brothers innocent expression. Father does not intend to announce your betrothal at the Adalthing today.


    Why not? asked Isenwald with shock on his face. It was agreed with Jarl Vale! He will not take  this lightly.


    To be honest, I think Vale has reached the same conclusion our father did. Neither of them intends for this to take ce, Eumund exined. Isenwald did not reply but simply stared in the direction his father had gone. We should return, Eumund said quietly and left.


    ~~~~


    Theodoric was moving in the corridors surrounding the hall when he came upon Konstans, who quickly addressed him. My lord jarl, a word if you please.


    I intended to speak with your brother, in fact, Theodoric replied.


    I speak on Valerians behalf, Konstans imed, which made Theodoric consent. By now it must be obvious, Konstans continued, that your designs concerning Sir Reynold are impossible to fulfil.


    That is interesting. I was going to inform you simrly that you cannot expect Valerian to be made lord protector.


    We have a great deal more support than Sir Reynold, Konstans said with disdain.


    But not enough. You need Elis and Ingmond, Theodoric pointed out. Were you aware that Ingmond is bought by Elis? he asked suddenly.


    I was not, Konstans said slowly, frowning in contemtion.


    Elis has not been ying fairly with you. Any deal he has made with you, Theodoric said, he will have made with Isenhart as well.


    Is that so, Konstans muttered.


    I know he has promised you the Mint. But he has made the same promise to Isenhart.


    Of course he has, Konstans said derisively.


    Did you know? Theodoric said in surprise.


    No, Konstans admitted, but I have been dealing with Elis for some years now. I never doubted that he would be negotiating with Isarn as well.


    Then you must know, he is not to be trusted, Theodoric insisted. You could end up with nothing if Elis decides to have Ingmond support Isenhart.


    Or perhaps, Konstans said with a smile evoking superiority, I have no need for you. I only need Elis to ept the bargain we struck with him, and we will win the election with him and Ingmond behind us.


    And what will you do if they end up in favour of Isenhart?


    It seems more likely they will join us, Konstans countered. We are closest to the majority.


    Is that a risk you are prepared to take? If I switch to Isenhart as well, then he will stand with most supporters. Then he may seem the most attractive candidate.


    Konstans eyes narrowed. You are ying with fire.


    As are you. But if Valerian throws his weight behind Sir Reynold, the majority will be ours. A field in harvest is better than two under the plough, Theodoric said, quoting a saying from Korndale.


    Not quite, Konstans argued. Even if we raise our voices together, we require two members more. My brothers supporters and yoursbined are only thirty-three. We will still need Elis or Ingmond.


    Not necessarily. If we are that close, Theodoric smiled, I am quite confident we will find two more. Both Linstead and Arnling abstained and can surely be convinced.


    Surely, Konstans repeated with what might be a mocking tone. The only thing that is sure is that you offer my brother nothing at the moment. I have a better idea. Convince Linstead and Arnling to support my brother as lord protector, do so as well yourself, and a chest of golden marks will be yours.


    As much as I respect such an offer, I must decline, Theodoric replied.


    Then our goals remain irreconcble, Konstans said. It would seem my time is better spent negotiating with Elis than with you. Having spoken thus, Konstans continued down the hallway.


    ~~~~


    Theodoric continued on his path as well, eventually walking up the balcony where he found Godfrey and Quill. The scribe gave a small bow while Godfrey nodded. How goes your n? asked thetter.


    Not as well as I had hoped, Theodoric muttered. Valerian, or rather Konstans, still thinks they can win if Elis joins with them. The problem is they are right. It seems they are willing to take a bigger risk than I estimated.


    What can be done? Quill then asked.


    Linstead and Arnling both abstained. If I can get them on my side, I will have a majority along with Valerian. Maybe then he will reconsider, take the certain deal rather than continue taking the risk.


    Arnling, Quill mumbled, looking down upon the hall where Brand stood alone.


    Did I not see him leaving your library? asked Godfrey, following Quills gaze.


    You did. As a page in the Citadel, years ago, he would often aid me in the library. It was before I had my apprentice, Quill exined.


    Then perhaps you can sway him to our cause, Theodoric suggested. Time is running out before the second counting. If we do not act fast, the election may be decided beyond our grasp. Speak with Arnling, promise what you must. I will seek out Linstead.


    Before they could carry out this suggestion, however, there was an interruption, and both the jarl as well as the Quill had to return to the hall. It was time to take a count of the current issue whether the Adalthing should repeal the new tax on salt sold in Middanhal. It was a simpler decision to make; every member simply had to say yes or no to discarding the tax.


    Elis had argued forcefully for the need of new ie since Heohlond had not paid for the support of Order troops in ten years. Nheless, the influence of the guilds prevailed. Forty voices speak against, Quill told the assembly. The voice of the Adalthing has spoken. The tax on salt sold in Middanhal is abolished.


    With this issue resolved, one of the noblemen took the opportunity to announce the betrothal of his son. It was not strictly necessary to mention such matters to the Adalthing, but it was considered prudent. It made the union in question official and harder for other noblemen to oppose such a union or argue its validity, which was sometimes done due to rights of inheritance. Isenwald, who had walked onto the eastern balcony overlooking the hall, watched his father and the jarl of Vale. Yet neither man moved to speak or make any promations of his own.


    You are the son of the jarl of Isarn, are you not? asked Godfrey, who had approached the young man.


    Isenwald  of  Isarn at your service, the youth replied absently.


    You seem troubled.


    I had  other hopes for the Adalthing than what  is conspiring.


    Many will be disappointed today, I reckon, Godfrey said contemtively.


    I suspect you are right, Isenwald mumbled. Who are you? You  do not wear colours. Are you with the guilds? he asked as he turned to look at Godfrey for the first time. Godfrey in turn kept his gaze and held it until Isenwald took a step backwards.


    I am of no concern, Godfrey told him. But you are a good soul, he said and moved away to the other end of the balcony, observing the hall while Isenwald stared at him from a distance. From here, Godfrey could watch Theodoric attempting to speak with Linstead while Quill tried to reach Brand. Before he could, however, Athelstan pulled his squire aside. Godfrey nced towards the water clock; it had nearly filled up the hourly measurement thrice. It was soon time for the second counting of voices.


    ~~~~


    I am d we could speak, Athelstan said. Politics and friendship rarely make goodpanions, but I must raise the subject with you.


    I expected you would at some point, Brand imed. You are raising support for your brother, I take it.


    Exactly, Athelstan nodded. You have not lent your voice to any man. My brother would greatly appreciate if you stand by him.


    It grieves me to deny you anything, Sir Athelstan, Brand replied. But I have already promised my support elsewhere.


    But you have abstained so far, Athelstan said. I can offer you fairpensation. You know my brothers wealth. Any debts you might have will be of no concern.


    Hearing this, Brand stiffened. I have no need of such aid.


    Certainly, Athelstan was quick to answer. What I said was meant in kindness. It can be advantageous to be in good standing with my brother. Especially if he is lord protector.


    That is understandable, Brand replied. But I struck a bargain and must keep to it. My word is my honour. I cannot break it.


    I see, Athelstan said slowly. I will not encourage you further. The knight walked away, leaving Brand in the hallway.


    ~~~~


    In the back of the hall, Theodoric had approached thendgrave of Linstead. My lord, Theodoric said quietly. I noticed you abstained in the counting.


    How observant, Linstead said. His attention was on the debate that now took ce concerning a ban on selling iron ore out of Adalmearc, which Isenhart was forcefully arguing against; secondary only to silver, the iron mines were his source of wealth. Noblemen in service to the guilds were likewise against it. On the other hand, Jarl Vale, who usually spoke in favour of trade and was often aligned with the guilds, seemed inclined to support the ban.


    What is your price?


    The blunt question had the effect that Linstead deigned to turn and look at Theodoric. iner words than I have ever heard before from you.


    Time is short, Theodoric shrugged.


    I have no price, Linstead said disdainfully.


    In my experience, when men say such, it is merely to drive the price up, Theodoric remarked.


    You mistake me. It is merely you that I will not barter with like some vulgar merchant.


    So you are aligned with someone, Theodoric said, his eyes looking around the hall.


    Does it matter? I have no interest in whatever you propose. I have not forgotten your days as seneschal, Linstead added.


    You did not lend your voice to Valerian or Isenhart, Theodoric continued hisments, ncing at either jarl. But there is another force in the field, Theodoric added with the beginnings of a smile.


    You are disturbing me, my lord jarl, Linstead told him, turning his attention to the debate.


    You are bought by Elis, Theodoric said, looking sharply at Linstead. An expression ran across thetters face.


    It is time for the counting, Linstead said quickly, and his im was supported by the water clock. For the second time that day, the voices of the Adalthing were to be counted.


    ~~~~


    Quill had not had time to speak with Brand, but he could not dy the counting either. He took position in front of the throne, where Elis had been standing just before, and cleared his throat. It is time to count the voices of the Adalthing and hear whether they speak as one. The question is who should take the mantle of lord protector. Lord Raymond, to whom do you lend your voice?


    The jarl of Ingmond stepped forward and ced his hand on the altar. Theodoric stood surrounded by his vassals, his cheeks flushed from the heat of the room so full of warm bodies. With a loud voice, Raymond gave the same answer asst. He dered for no candidate. A loud sigh of relief came from Theodoric as it became apparent Valerian had not reached an agreement with Elis. There was still time.


    The three remaining jarls and their vassals did likewise as Raymond had, dering the same way they had at thest counting. Then came thendgraves, including Elis, and finally the athelings, Brand of House Arnling and Hardmar of House Hardling. None had changed their answer. Quill did not need to do any mental arithmetic this time but could simply repeat the result from the first counting.


    Twenty-five voices have spoken for Lord Valerian. Twenty-one voices have spoken for Lord Isenhart, and eight voices speak for Sir Reynold. The voice of the Adalthing is silent.


    Quill stepped away to let Elis once more continue the proceedings of the Adalthing. Margrave Alexander of Jaunis wished to dispute a punitive geld of ten crowns, which he was to pay because his son had broken the peace and engaged in fighting at the Temple square. As his jarl, Valerian was obliged to speak on his behalf and plead his case, while Elis defended the decision made by the captain of the city guard. Finally, Quill was able to speak with Brand.


    Brand sent thew keeper a questioning look as thetter approached him. Is something the matter, Quill? the squire asked quietly.


    Ie on behalf of the jarl of Theodstan, Quill exined. He hopes you will lend your voice to his cause in the third counting.


    Why are you doing the jarls bidding? Brand asked confused. You are not his servant.


    I support his attempt to have Sir Reynold chosen as lord protector.


    I did not know you interfered in matters of politics, Brand said, narrowing his eyes. But you are not a member of the Adalthing. You are keeper of thew, however. Should you not remain neutral in these matters?


    This is a matter that will affect us all, Quill countered. You did not give voice to any candidate. Has not any of the jarls persuaded you to their cause? I imagine they promised to be generous.


    That is my concern, Brand said with a quiver of anger. Now for the sake of our friendship I think this conversation should end, the squire added and distanced himself from thew keeper.


    ~~~~


    From the balcony, Theodoric and Godfrey watched as Brand abruptly stepped away from Quill. That did not seem fruitful, Godfrey remarked dryly.


    About as much luck as I had with Linstead, Theodoric muttered.


    Is it impossible to sway Elis to our side? asked Godfrey.


    There is nothing I may offer him which Valerian and Isenhart cannot improve upon, Theodoric exined. He is holding the cards at this stage. Not only Ingmond and his margraves but Linstead as well. He can demand anything.


    Quill joined them at the balcony. I am sorry, he mumbled. Brand would not even speak to me of his choice.


    Neither would Linstead, Theodoric said. He still gave away his allegiance to Elis though.


    Could the same be the case for your friend? Godfrey suddenly asked. Is his reluctance to speak perhaps born of the same reason?


    Perhaps, Quill said, gesturing with open hands. I truly do not know.


    It seems excessive, Theodoric remarked. Elis already has Ingmond, who is worth twelve voices.


    Unless he needed a specific number, Godfrey muttered.


    But he could not have known who would vote for whom beforehand. Could he? asked Quill.


    He could have made the same estimation I did, Theodoric said quietly. Valerian is the most likely candidate and certain to win if the entire South supports him. So Elis takes Ingmond away. The northernndgraves support Isenhart. That leaves nine southernndgraves apart from Elis himself, Theodoric summarised. But if I supported Valerian, and one of the two atheling members did as well, that makes thirty-five. Exactly the majority.


    So Elis gains one of the athelings to his side, Godfrey said, looking down upon Brand. And onendgrave, he added, looking at Linstead.


    So even if the rest of the South, the other atheling member, and I should lend our voices to the same candidate as Valerian, it would still not be enough, Theodoric realised.


    Without Lord Elis support, none can win the election, Quill said as his eyes widened.


    I miscalcted, Theodoric admitted. Elis outwitted me.


    But it is so close, Quill argued. Can you not sway some of the northernndgraves? It must be certain that Jarl Isarn cannot win.


    I do not think Elis was merely lucky in his calctions, Theodoric said darkly. If I were him, and he certainly seems to be as sharp as I am, I would have something in reserve. Some of thendgraves to pretend supporting the jarls, keep them hoping they can win, yet suddenly switch sides should Elis need them to.


    Such intricate webs, Godfreymented. All to control the oue of the Adalthing.


    He is not dragonlord without reason, Theodoric said. I would have done no less had I been able to. It is ingenious. He decides who will be lord protector.


    Except for himself, Quill added. He still must choose either Jarl Vale or Jarl Isarn.


    But in either case, he retains his position as dragonlord, Theodoric said. No matter who wins.


    But why wait? asked Godfrey. He could have decided the matter at the second counting. What does he gain from postponing choosing between the jarls? Neither of hispanions had an answer to this. What if he did not have to choose, Godfrey muttered in continuation. What happens if the election remains undecided through all three countings?


    The Adalthing will convene next year no matter what, Quill informed him, and they will attempt to reach a decision again. Of course, in circumstances such as this, a special assembly should be called or the Adalthing simply extended and meet tomorrow.


    And who has the power to call for a special assembly or extend the Adalthing? asked Godfrey.


    The king, Quill answered. In his absence, the He did not finish the sentence.


    Elis has the deciding numbers, but he chooses not to use them, Godfrey said. Because he does not need to win. As long as nobody wins.


    He continues as dragonlord. With no king, no lord protector above his authority, Quill added.


    The pieces fall into ce, Theodoric said with an echo of hollowughter. Mypliments, Lord Elis. But the day is not over yet.


    ~~~~


    Below, Valerian had finished speaking on behalf of the margrave of Jaunis. Quill returned to the hall to prepare the counting for and against Jaunis paying the geld he owed. Valerian moved over to his brother, having a moments time. Are there any more members we might gain to our side? he whispered.


    Perhaps, Konstans replied. I cannot speak with Elis while he is engaged in the debate, and Ingmond refuses to negotiate. But Theodstan must realise he should side with us. If I have him and can convince two more, it will be enough.


    Do what you can, Valerian told him and turned to give his vote in the matter of Jaunis.


    Konstans hurried out and nearly rammed himself against Theodoric. My lord, said Konstans. Have you reconsidered my brothers offer?


    I have not, Theodoric said. It is void, in any case. Even if Valerian and I stand together, weck two for the majority.


    Twondgraves and one atheling are undecided, Konstans said. Knowing how close my brother is, they will lend their support.


    You are deceived, my lord, Theodoric said. We all are. Those undecided voices, along with Ingmond and probably others, are bought by Elis.


    Are you certain?


    Theodoric nodded. This is his ploy. He has ensured that neither your brother nor Isenhart can gain a majority. He knows neither of them would ever support the other. The Adalthing concludes in less than an hour with no decision, Theodoric said, ncing inwards at the hall. At other such times, the king has always extended the assembly until the next day, and the next day, for as long as needed. We all assumed this would happen here.


    But only Elis can prolong the Adalthing, Konstans realised, and he has no cause to do so when its only purpose is to rob him of his power.


    Exactly. He has devised a stalemate, pitting southerners against northerners. Unless we take a third option, Theodoric pointed out. One that both Valerian and Isenhart can agree to.


    Sir Reynold, Konstans said in bitter acknowledgement. Does your promise to my brother still hold? Guardianship of the prince?


    It does, Theodoric said. Tell Valerian to lend his voice to Sir Reynold as candidate.


    You will still require Isarns support, Konstans reminded him. And you are running low on time to convince him.


    Convince your brother, Theodoric told him, and I will handle Isenhart. The jarl wasted no further time but hurried away.


    ~~~~


    Inside the hall of the Adalthing, thest debate had concluded. Elis yielded the floor to Quill, who slowly walked into position. His eyes ran over the crowd; Konstans entered and joined his brother, whispering in Valerians ear, but Quill did not see the jarl of Theodstan. It is time for the third counting, Quill said and spent a few moments clearing his throat and coughing loudly. As before, three have been named and all must decide to whom they lend their voice. Should any need to know, the names are Lord Valerian of the House of Vale. Quill took a pause, his eyes still searching the room. Lord Isenhart of the House of Isarn. Another pause. And Sir Reynold, who also serves as lord marshal of the Order. If any should have forgotten. Finally, Quill saw Theodoric enter. He moved towards the jarl of Isarn, cing documents in thetters hand and speaking quietly, urgently. Upon seeing the jarl of Theodstan, Quill continued. Lord Raymond, to whom do you lend your voice as lord protector?


    To none, answered Raymond. His margraves were silent with nobody going against their jarl.


    Lord Valerian, to whom do you lend your voice?


    Valerian stepped forward, touched the altar of the goddess, and spoke loudly. I lend my voice to Sir Reynold to be lord protector. Ripples of murmurs went through the gathering as Valerian walked away from the statue.


    Does any margrave from Vale lend his voice otherwise? Valerian turned and sent a re at his vassals, none of whom spoke. Meanwhile, Theodoric had finished speaking to Isenhart and Athelstan, and he turned to cast his own vote.


    Lord Theodoric, to whom do your lend your voice?


    To Sir Reynold. When asked, none of the margraves of Theodstan said otherwise.


    Lord Isenhart, to whom do you lend your voice?


    Isenhart took a few steps and mmed his hand down upon the altar. To Sir Reynold, Isenhart eximed with wrath in his voice. In his other hand, he held two pieces of parchment, which he ripped apart and threw on the floor. They were the legal documents Elis had drafted; one that promised control of the Mint to the jarl of Vale, and one that promised it to the jarl of Isarn. Waves of panic rushed over Elis face as he, along with every other nobleman who could add numbers in his head, realised what this meant.


    Quill continued the count, but now it was merely formality. With three jarls in agreement, the majority was safely on Reynolds side. Some of thendgraves realised this and dered their support for him as well while others stood befuddled and continued to lend their voice to Vale or Isarn. As thest, Brands voice quaked as he dered that he supported none. Then he retreated out of the hall with speed.


    Five voices have spoken for Lord Valerian. Two voices have spoken for Lord Isenhart. And, Quill said with a triumphant voice, Forty-seven voices speak on behalf of Sir Reynold. The voice of the Adalthing has spoken, its word isw. From this moment on, Sir Reynold is named lord protector of the realm.


    Sir Reynold descended from the balcony and entered the hall of the Adalthing, where he was met with apuse. He smiled, walking up to the altar and cing a hand upon it. As my first act, I name the knight marshal, Sir Roderic, as dragonlord of Adalrik. Lord Elis, the ring if you please, he said, stretching out his hand. Elis stood dumbstruck; within moments, he had gone from being dragonlord of Adalrik to being merely anotherndgrave.


    He did not react to Reynolds request; eventually, Richard of Alwood walked over, grabbed Elis hand, pulled off the si of the dragonlord, and dumped it into the lord marshals hand. Reynold in turn gave it to Roderic, and the knight marshal ced it on his finger. From the balcony, Godfrey let out a sigh of relief.


    ~~~~


    With the Adalthing concluded, the noblemen left in every direction. A few servants entered and began to wash the bloodied statue of Disfara as well as removing scraps of parchment from the floor. Quill joined Godfrey on the balcony. All is well? asked the scribe.


    Hardly, Godfrey replied. But it is a beginning for Adalrik.


    And the rest of Adalmearc?


    That is an entirely different situation. I must leave for Hthiod soon and beyond. Affairs in the Reach await me.


    You should not mention that ce, Quill said, looking around nervously.


    Because none of your people would dare venture beyond the walls? It must be done one day, Godfrey told him.


    Maybe, Quill epted. But I was not even born in Adalmearc and I share their fear.


    They are only men who live in the Reach, Godfrey said sharply. Well, most of them, he amended. Perhaps your fears are justified, but they must be ovee nheless.


    It will not be by me, Quill was happy to admit. The more I learn of what lies to the southeast, the more I hope we shall never know of it in my lifetime.


    I think you will be disappointed, Godfrey warned him. Alczar preparing for war in the west  do you think they would dare go against Adalmearc alone? Consider whose support they might have to lend them such courage.


    What do we do about Alczar? Quill asked.


    What can we do? I have warned Thusund as best I could. Would the lord marshal believe you or me if we told him such tidings?


    Perhaps if ites from the jarl of Theodstan, Quill considered. If I can convince him, surely he can convince our new lord protector.


    Pursue that, Godfrey told him. I, however, should not waste more time. Hthiod awaits, and then To Quills apparent relief, Godfrey did not finish his sentence.


    Isenwalds family had left without him while he lingered. Now he walked down to the courtyard to have his horse saddled.


    Isenwald, a voice called to him, though not too loudly.


    Lady Valerie, he said as he turned and saw her.


    I am here waiting for my father, officially, she said with a wry smile, standing near the carriage with the insignia of the House of Vale. But I told the stable hands that the harness for the horses seemed worn, so they are recing it, giving me some idle time. I was looking for you.


    This made Isenwald give a half-hearted smile, which faltered soon. Mydy, you  do know, I presume. Of what  did not happen at the assembly.


    Her smile faded as well. Yes. More or less.


    I had an  inkling that  I was thest to know, he said with another faint smile.


    I am sorry, Valerie told him, wringing her hands. Perhaps I should not have encouraged you to write, but I enjoyed reading your letters so much, I did not want it to end.


    It had to, he said with a shrug. I was a fool to think  otherwise. But  I am happy  if my letters brought somefort to you.


    More thanfort, they brought me joy, she insisted. You bring me joy, Isenwald.


    Valerie, our carriage is ready, Valerian said to his daughter.


    Please, she said as she walked away. Write to me again. Somehow, watching the carriage drive away, a smile wed its way onto Isenwalds face, making him oblivious to his surroundings until a stable boy practically had to ce the reins of Isenwalds horse directly into his hands.


    While some had to travel back to their estates, Theodoric had a short walk back to his chambers. Entering the parlour, he found his sister busy in conversation with a young woman. Both of the women looked up, and Theodwyn gestured towards herpanion. Theodoric, dear, this is Arndis, my friend.


    A pleasure, mdy, Theodoric said with a bow. Of House Arnling, I take it?


    The very same, Arndis replied. Perhaps you know my brother, Adalbrand.


    I have seen him, Theodoric nodded. He was at the Adalthing today.


    How did it go for you, Brother? Theodwyn asked pleasantly.


    As it should, Theodoric answered. The lord marshal is now lord protector of Adalrik as I intended.


    How well for you, dear, Theodwyn said absently.


    She turned her head to speak to Arndis but was pre-empted by the younger woman. If I may ask, my lord, if the lord marshal has taken that title, who is now dragonlord? asked Arndis.


    The knight marshal, Sir Roderic. A sensible arrangement since they already have the same rtionship in the Order. And like Sir Reynold, Sir Roderic is a reliable fellow, dedicated to the Crown.


    Sir Roderic? Not Lord Elis any longer? Arndis asked with her heart beating faster.


    No, the days of his rule are ended, Theodoric said with satisfaction.


    If you will pardon me, Arndis said as she stood up, bowed, and left the jarls chambers with haste.


    Theodoric, you frightened her away, Theodwyn scolded him.


    I? What on earth did I do?


    It is how you look. So thin, I wish you would eat. All ck clothes without your cloak, though you should wear red and white. And you could wear a glove on your hand and conceal that, she continued her scolding, pointing at his left hand with its missing little finger.


    I will apologise at supper, Theodoric muttered and entered his bedchamber.


    Inside he found his servant Holwine waiting for him, leaning against the opposite wall. Does my sister not mind that you loiter around my personal chambers? the jarl said, though only after closing the door.


    She is not nearly as tightly wound as you think, Holwine argued. She is just very mindful of appearances in public. But tell me how you aplished your feat. Rumours are spreading through the castle and soon the city, no doubt.


    The jarl sat down on his bed, stretching his neck. In truth it was much closer than it should have been. Elis is far more cunning than I thought, Theodoric admitted. Valerian sided with me as I nned, but in the end I had to get Isenhart with me as well. Which I had not nned, the jarl added dryly.


    How? Holwine asked with eager eyes, stepping forward.


    Isenhart is vindictive, Theodoric said. Once I could prove that Elis had deceived him, that he would win the election without even being a candidate, the good jarl of Isarn would have done anything to spite him. Including allowing another to win the title as long as it meant Elis did not, Theodoric smiled.


    Beautiful, Holwine smiled. How did you prove Elis deception?


    I took the documents from Elis lockbox, those concerning the Mint. Showing that Elis had promised Valerian the same as Isenhart was enough.


    Those documents, the whole affair with the Mint seemed a dangerous y, Holwine argued.


    It was, Theodoric granted. But Elis needed to keep the feud stoked between Valerian and Isenhart. He saw quite rightly that if they were kept on opposite sides, his n was certain to seed. Or maybe, Theodoric added, maybe it was his secondary n. Should something unforeseen happen, should Ingmond or others fail him, he could still bargain the Mint to either jarl in exchange for remaining dragonlord. Whatever his intentions, it was one step too many, Theodoric mused. Now what of your task?


    It has only been a day, I have not learned much. This traveller youre interested in, he stays at a cheap inn in Lowtown. He moves through the city as a native, though I have not seen him meet with any who might be a kinsman to him. Nor could any I asked tell me much.


    With whom has he met?


    He spentst evening in the Templeplex after the lighting of the fire. The Temrs blocked my path, so whoever he met with would be a priest of some rank.


    Could his employer be one of the priests? Theodoric spected.


    Could it not be the Quill? asked Holwine. He spent most of his time with the Quill today during the assembly.


    Theodoric shook his head. They came together to seek my assistance with having the lord marshal elected. If this man were subordinate to the Quill, the scribe would simply havee to me alone. No, this stranger came to the Quill, who in turn gave him ess to me. Question is if the Quill takes orders from him, or if they both receive their orders elsewhere.


    If you are so suspicious, why did you agree to their n? asked Holwine.


    Because it was good, Theodoric admitted. Keeping both Vale and Isarn in check, bncing their power against each other. Not to mention, the lord marshal, our new lord protector, is more favourable towards me. This gives me an opening.


    An opening for what?


    Many things can happen in ten years, Theodoric smiled slyly. At some point, I predict Reynold will need a more capable dragonlord, someone skilled in politics. Someone who can control the Adalthing, who has proven his ability to do so already. It would have been too obvious to press the issue now, but in a year or two, who can tell?


    Clever, Holwine acknowledged with a smile.


    Therefore, while I agreed with this Godfreys goal, I am troubled that I do not know his motive. If the priests are behind this, if they are involving themselves in matters of state, I wish to know.


    I will continue to follow him while he is in the city, Holwine said and left.


    In another part of the castle, Arndis had returned to the quarters she shared with her brother. She knocked on the door to his bedchamber but received no answer. Cautiously, she stepped inside and found her brother sitting on his bed, staring at the empty wall. Brand? she said carefully. Receiving no reply, she stepped around to stand in front of him. Brand, speak. What happened?


    Elis had a n, Brand mumbled. He was to remain as dragonlord, and I would be captain of the thanes.


    I have heard the news. Sir Reynold is lord protector, they say.


    They say it true, Brand answered. My hopes are dashed.


    How much do we owe to the moneylenders?


    Brand swallowed. Eight crowns.


    Eight! Arndis eximed, turning away. Eight, she repeated more softly. You can still be one of the kingthanes, she suggested. It will take a long time, but it is a beginning.


    Brand shook his head. Lord Berimund has heard that I wished to rece him. I doubt he will be inclined towards epting me as a thane. I am out of options. Arndis sat down next to him, but words failed her, and Brand spoke again. I was a fool. I swore I would do better than our father, I would not make the mistakes he made. Fall into disgrace, leave his children with nothing. I have less than nothing now, he said bitterly.


    Arndis sat in silence, and Brand spoke no further. Finally, she stood up. This will not do! I will gather every coin we have not spent, and we will pay some of the debt with that. It will buy us time. We have lost nothing, Brother, we are merely at a standstill. Ye gods, Brand, one setback and you are defeated? She pushed him on the shoulder. If Arn had such an attitude, he would never have been king! You im we are dragonborn, yet there is nothing kingly in your demeanour.


    Brand stood up and shot his sister an angry look, but it was quickly reced by a relievedughter. You are right, oh much wiser sister of mine. Of course you are. Forgive me, a momentary spell of ill mood took me.


    That is better, Arndis said relieved. There are other ways. We just need to consider our options. I am sure we will find some.


    I may not be able to match the achievements of Arn of Old, but I shall try, Brand said, now smiling. By the Seven and Eighth, I shall try.


    Good. I have be very friendly with the jarl of Theodstans sister. She led me to understand that it was his will that the lord marshal should be lord protector?


    That seems to be the case, Brand nodded. He was the jarl who named Sir Reynold for the title.


    Then we do have friends here at court, friends with influence. Imagine what he might do for us.


    You are right, again. Continue to seek her out, Brand instructed. If it shoulde to the worst, I must leave Middanhal and buy some time from my creditors. Come, let us eat. I am famished.


    Thest to return to his chambers after the Adalthing, walking with slow steps, was George of Elis. In fact, they would soon cease to be his quarters since he could not stay in the wing reserved for the dragonlord of Adalrik. Whenever he encountered someone in the corridors, they would instinctively shy away, even the servants. His own personal attendant seemed to have left as well, for those quarters were quiet. Elis increased his pace as he saw the door to his study stood open. Striding inside, he found the shattered pieces of the lock on his strongbox.


    ~~~~


    Between the first andst evening bell, Kate knocked on the library door and waited until Quill gave her entry. She found the scribe standing in the middle of the bookshelves, holding a scrap of parchment. Kate stood still, waiting until he acknowledged her. A message from Egil, Quill said, looking up. Immediately Kates eyes widened, but she did not speak. Would you like to read it? Well, as much as you can, Quill offered.


    May I?


    It contains no great secrets, Quill smiled, extending the letter to her. He is merely letting me know of his whereabouts.


    Kate took it and began to read aloud what words she recognised with Quill assisting her. So hes arrived with who?


    lfwine, Quill said, pointing to the name in the letter. His travellingpanion.


    And they are in?


    Heohlond, Quill muttered. They have arrived in Heohlond.


    I dont know anything about that ce except Egils from there.


    Quill moved over to a shelf and picked out arge scroll. He gave one end to Kate and unfurled it, which showed it to have a length equal to a mans height. It was a map of Adalmearc and whaty beyond  all the known world. Quill ced it on a table andy a few books on one end to keep it from rolling together, and Kate mirrored him at the other end.


    The Seven Realms of Adalmearc, Quill exined. This is the Weolcan Mountains that divide the northern realms from the southern. They break only in one ce, here, Quill said and touched the exact centre point of the map with his fingertip. Where we are, Middanhal, the centre of the world. Kate leaned forward and listened with interest. And here, the north-eastern corner of Adalmearc, we have Heohlond. The hignds, Quill continued, where Egil is. Some weeks worth of travel.


    When will he return?


    I do not know, child.


    Whats up here in the north? Kate asked, pointing. Arge forest had been drawn upon the map, indeed so long that it stretched along the entire northern border of Adalmearc and continued beyond the edge of the map.


    That is the Alfskog, Quill exined, pointing to the letters on the map that named the forest.


    Ive heard of that, Kate said with a shudder. They say its a bad ce. What is this thick line at the bottom?


    It is the Langstan. The long line of fortifications that run for hundreds and hundreds of miles. From the sea in the west all along the southern border of Adalmearc and up the eastern boundary until it reaches the mountains.


    What lies beyond?


    Here, to the southwest, is Alczar. My home, Quill pointed. None may pass the Langstan. So to enter Adalmearc, people travel to Alczar and then north by ship until they reach Thusund. The realm of a thousand inds, the western part of Adalmearc.


    Are there really a thousand inds?


    Quillughed. I do not know if any have counted them. There could be.


    What is this empty part here, below?


    The southern wastnds. They lie between us and the Mydlonde Sea further south at the edge of the map. They say it was once lush and that great cities lie hidden in the sand and dirt. Though I think if you went there, you would only find Bedouins and most likely death by thirst.


    Whats here? Kate asked, pointing to the southeast. Like the desert, it was devoid of markings except for one; a dragon had been drawn onto the map.


    It has no name as such, Quill said, his voice growing quieter. Men call it the Reach. It is a barren ce where our people never go.


    Ive heard that is a bad ce too, Kate said with another shiver. But what is the Langstan for? If theres desert here, and this ce is empty, why do we have the wall?


    I did not say it was empty, Quill muttered. Only that we do not go there. A silence spread,sting a few moments until Quill dispelled it. Enough questions for tonight, he said and rolled the map together. It has been a long day, and I think we will skip the reading lesson for tonight. But, he added and walked over to a desk. He opened a drawer, took out a small purse of silver, and then counted ten pieces into his hand. You will wear your fine dress out if you are to use it every night when we read, he said and ced the silver pieces in Kates hand. This should suffice for some modest clothes, and you can use them for this purpose only. Keep them clean, he told her sharply while Kate stood uncertain.


    But Master Quill, I dont do any work for you. I havent earned this.


    It is the masters responsibility that his apprentice is suitably dressed, the aged librarian mumbled and turned away. Now go, child, let me get some sleep.


    Yes, master, Kate said with a smile that Quill could not see, only hear resonate in her reply, before she left the old man alone in the library tower.

 Chapter 7: A Highland Tale

    Chapter 7: A Hignd Tale


    A Hignd Tale


    Roads of Heohlond


    Beyond the northern gate of Middanhaly a wide road, branching out in many directions; on the day that the jarl of Theodstan arrived in Middanhal to participate in the uing Adalthing, lfwine and Egil travelled in the other direction. They followed the easterly branch, going against the stream of people on solstice pilgrimage. Their journey passed mostly eventless at first. On asion, they might ride on a cart with a farmer or trader going north, though they traversed the longest stretches on foot.


    Eventually, they left the hearnds of Adalrik and reached Theodstan, the north-eastern jarldom that maintained the border with Heohlond. On asion, they slept in the wild with only their cloaks forfort, while at other times, they were fortunate to have a local farmer grant them leave to sleep in a barn on their path; often lfwine would pay some coppers for the hospitality and some provisions. On asion, when they were in a town or city at days end, they might sleep in a tavern, but always cheaply.


    Conversation was scarce; lfwine seemed to have no interest in it. Egil kept back for a while, and for some days, they only spoke on practical matters such as setting camp. But the curiosity, which had made Egil jump at the chance of bing apprenticed to the Kings Quill and gain ess to thergest library in the world, could not be silenced forever. You have never been to Heohlond? Egil asked hispanion.


    If I have, I did not know at the time.


    How could you not  Egil began to say, but he fell quiet when he looked at lfwines blindfold. Silence followed for a long time. Why do you have a sword? asked Egil when his curiosity had once again be master of him.


    Do men carry swords for more than one reason? asked lfwine with a disinterested voice.


    Well, no, but Egils voice trailed off as lfwine once again managed to disrupt his train of thought. This time, however, he did not let it silence him. Is that why you hold the staff in your left hand? To keep your sword hand free?


    How observant, lfwine replied shortly.


    My master told me I had to be, Egil said, more quietly. Though I dont know why the Kings Quill has to be. I dont know why he teaches me half the things he does. If lfwine was listening, he did not answer but merely kept up a brisk pace.


    ~~~~


    One day, Egil summoned the courage to ask a pertinent question. Why are we travelling to Heohlond?


    You know that as well as I do.


    But Im not sure I understand. The prince died years ago, whats there to learn?


    You do not have to understand, lfwine said, his voice still sounding devoid of interest. Just aid me in whatever way you are able and which I require.


    But what for?


    My purpose is to help Godfrey understand, not you.


    After some time had passed, Who is Godfrey?


    For once lfwine gave a little smile, though it seemed mostly contemptuous. If you are so observant, you should be able to answer that yourself.


    Egil frowned, considering this. He is younger than my master by a fair deal. Yet he speaks, and my master obeys. He is ustomed to long travels, he has been in Alczar. lfwine did not speak but let Egil continue along his trail of thoughts. He has a sword by his side, though like you he hides it under his cloak. But he does not seem a soldier nor nobleman.


    Evidently, others than soldiers and noblemen carry swords, lfwine remarked.


    Maybe he was a soldier once, and that is how he learned swordy, Egil spected. Maybe he still is a soldier, merely pretends not to be. Because he is in service to somebody. lfwine did not give his opinion on this. Are you his servant? asked Egil. lfwine did not reply to this either. Or are you both servants to somebody else, Egil said contemtively.


    The border between Adalrik and Heohlond was not sharply delineated. It was more of a blur where the jarldom of Theodstan ended and where thends of n Cameron began, known only to the locals. There were fewer travellers now going in the opposite direction, and they mostly encountered stone and marble from the quarries being carted south. On the other hand, it happened more often that they met others also travelling north, typically people going to the seat of their n for one reason or the other. When this happened, lfwine was quiet and allowed Egil to speak, whose dormant dialect was growing stronger.


    ~~~~


    Eventually they reached the stronghold of n Cameron, Cairn Donn, and lfwine decided to end the days journey there and buy new supplies. Egil found a scribe and paid him for use of his ink and parchment, writing a brief message to Quill. Afterwards, he went to the Orders garrison in the city. It was very small, only a knight and half a regiment, since their only purpose was to act as a link between the Order in Adalrik and its forces in the more troubled regions of Heohlond. They served Egils purposes as needed, however, since they routinely passed on letters and missives between Heohlond and Middanhal, and a message to the Kings Quill was considered the kings business; thus, they were obliged to transport the letter for Egil to his master.


    When it was evening, they rented a paupers room. Boy, bring me a bowl of clean water, lfwine told Egil, whoplied. I would tell you to extinguish the light, lfwine said, but this close to solstice I imagine the evening sky is still bright.


    Indeed, Egil said. Their room had no window as such, but the thatching was shoddy and allowed plenty of light through. We should be d its not raining.


    If we cannot have darkness, I rmend you avert your eyes, lfwine said, sitting down on the ground. There was no table of any kind, only two meagre beds, so Egil had ced the bowl of water on the ground. With his back towards Egil, lfwine unbound the blindfold around his head. One hand fumbled along the floor until it found the edge of the bowl, and he soaked the blindfold in the water before wringing it as dry as he could. With one hand, he kept his hat in front of his face, shielding it. With the other hand, he extended the wet cloth in Egils direction.


    Hang this somewhere it will dry, lfwinemanded as he gave it to Egil; then he moved to his bed andy down to rest, still keeping his broad-brimmed hat over his face. Egil hung the damp blindfold over one of the rafters and turned to look at hispanion. In the couple of weeks they had travelled, this was the first time the blindfold had been removed. Egil moved closer to lfwine and stood hovering. I suggest you keep your curiosity reined in on this one asion, lfwine muttered from beneath his cap. Egil moved back startled and went to his own bed.


    ~~~~


    When Egil woke the next day, lfwine was already awake and his eyes covered as customary. They left the city and continued further north. How far until we reach our destination? lfwine asked.


    We are in n Cameronsnds now, Egil began to borate. They are the southern-most n, and all the trade with the rest of Adalmearc go through them. So they are also wealthy and generally loyal towards Adalrik.


    That is not remotely what I asked about.


    Oh. Right, sorry. I forgot, I get distracted when remembering something I have read or been told.


    That did not even pretend to be an answer to any question I asked of you.


    Right, right, Egil said, almost stumbling over his own words. We have to pass through thends of another n, and then we will reach n Boyd, where the prince was killed. About a week or two at most, I think.


    A short while passed until lfwine took the initiative in the conversation again. This n, do theirnds border to the northern forest? The Alfskog?


    It must, Egil said. n Boyd lies in the most northern part of the hignds. Theres only the Alfskog further north. It must be immense, Egil continued to speak, more eagerly. They say the forest extends all along the northern border of Adalmearc across Vidrevi, Adalrik, and Heohlond. And nobody knows how far it goes north or what lies beyond it.


    I am aware of its extent, lfwine muttered.


    Oh, sorry. I just thought, Egil spoke haltingly, since you dont seem familiar with the northernnds of Adalmearc.


    I know thend, lfwine replied. Just not the cities or where men dwell. He paused momentarily. Do you know what it means to be sent wood-walking?


    Of course, Egil replied. Its the worst punishment. Well, apart from execution. Youre dered an ouw. Anybody whoes across you can kill you without being punished for it. So you have to leave the cities, and people take to the woods to survive.


    Skoggangr, lfwine said. That is what they called it in the old days. It had a different meaning then.


    How so? I have never heard of that.


    There was once a time when your people did not simply exile those who caused grave offence. They were sent into the Alfskog with whips against their backs. Hence the term to be sent walking into the wood. It was considered a death sentence, lfwine exined.


    I never knew, Egil admitted.


    You do now. There are ces on this earth where men should fear to tread, lfwine spoke; he did not speak further that day.


    ~~~~


    Tell me of the ns. It is a way of life unknown to me, lfwine said on the following days journey.


    Well, all thend in Heohlond is divided between the ns. Everybody living in a region is considered part of the n, at least if you were born there. They dont like outsiders, not from the rest of the Adalmearc or from the other ns. In fact, they probably dislike the other ns even more.


    And the n which controls the area of our destination?


    n Boyd, Egil told him. They are the ones that killed the prince and started the revolt. Well one branch of them. A n is like a small country. The head is like a king, but the different branches have their own lords and might act on their own.


    So one of n Boyds lords instigated an insurrection, lfwine said in repetition, and began by killing the prince and heir of Adalmearc.


    Many of the ns dislike being under the rule of Adalrik, Egil exined. They dont even like being ruled by their own king. He doesnt have much power, my master says. Only the Order keeps him on his throne and the ns at heel.


    I have heard that they suppressed the revolt rather brutally, lfwine ventured to say.


    Half of n Boyd rebelled, the other half didnt, Im told, Egil replied. Same story in other n territories. The Order suffered many ambushes and couldnt tell who was loyal and who wasnt. Eventually they treated most nsmen and their families as enemies.


    And made you an orphan, I surmise.


    I think so. Happened when I was so young, I can barely remember.


    You have my sympathy nheless for your loss, lfwine said. The uncharacteristic promation made Egil stop for a moment before he began walking again to keep pace with hispanion.


    Dont think anybodys ever told me that before.


    Then I have aplished something new, lfwine said with a mirthless smile.


    Reaching a vige in n Boydsnds, they bought more provisions and were given a haystack to sleep in. Howe you can afford it? All the food weve bought on this journey, asked Egil, who had more than once cast a sidelong nce at lfwines small purse of coins.


    Would you prefer to starve?


    No, Im not ungrateful, Egil hastened to say. Just curious. You look like a beggar, but I havent seen you ever beg for anything.


    I appreciate peoples kindness on asion, lfwine answered, but it is not my livelihood. With those words, he fell asleep.


    ~~~~


    As they journeyed onwards, they began to see the signs of a war-tornnd that had not recovered. Empty houses and burned barns, fields growing wild, and livestock was a rare sight. Where exactly are we going? asked Egil. I mean, whats the name of our destination?


    Your master told me that the prince was ambushed near a vige called Glen Hollow.


    Right. The Sorrow of Glen Hollow, they call the bad. Its a good tune, though funny name for a vige, Egil considered.


    Is that so, lfwine said absentmindedly.


    Yes, because glen means valley, like hollow does. So the name repeats itself, Egil exined.


    I did not ask, lfwine muttered, but Egil did not seem to hear.


    I suppose it was called both once by people of different dialect. And the names merged, Egil pondered.


    Fascinating, lfwine remarked in a tone of voice that gave the opposite impression.


    Making their way north, their surroundings became increasingly inhospitable. Although summer solstice was just around the corner, the nights were cold this far north. Moreover, strangers were viewed with distrust or outright hostility by the locals as well as the regiments of Order troops, which they at times encountered on the road. At one point, a knight stopped them and questioned them about their reasons for wandering the roads.


    Going north to leave my nephew with rtives, lfwine said in a voice that quivered slightly while he bent forward and grasped his staff for support with both hands. Lost my eyes fighting for good King Sighelm, did I, he added. Same as where the boy lost his father, my brother. Cannot feed him what he needs, so I am hoping my sister and her husband will take the boy in.


    Doubtful, the knight said from atop his horse. These people have hardened hearts. The rocks will sooner shed tears than they will at hearing your story. On your way, he dismissed them, and the patrol passed on.


    Seven and Eighths blessing to you, lfwine said mumbling. When the soldiers had passed some distance, he straightened up and took a strong hold of his staff with only one hand again.


    Isnt it dangerous to lie to the Order? asked Egil.


    Unless we tell them otherwise, how would they ever discover we told an untruth, lfwine pointed out.


    But why lie to them? We are not breaking anyw.


    No, but saying we have an interest in where the prince was ambushed and killed might raise suspicion. Especially since we appear to be two beggars on the road. It is best our story matches our appearance that we may avoid dys from inquisitive knights.


    What if they take a closer look? Egil asked.


    In and ravaged by war, you think they will think twice about seeing a pair of beggars?


    No, Egil said patiently, but you do carry a sword. And while you walk and talk like an old man, its only dirt. Your hat covers your hair, maybe, but its not filthy or tangled underneath. The skin on your face and hands is smooth, youre not that much older than me.


    This elicited a snort from lfwine. You have deduced this, have you, he said in a mocking tone.


    If I can see it, others can too, Egil said sullenly, and they continued in silence.


    ~~~~


    For most of their journey through this region, they had slept in the wild and avoided settlements, given how strangers were treated. Eventually, though, they hade as far as they could on their own. They needed guidance and began to seek towards viges as they came near them. People were rarely willing to help, but a handful of copper marks usually helped the travellers get a new direction. Thus, they moved from vige to vige, approaching Glen Hollow.


    After leaving one vige, they had walked for about half an hour when somebody approached them from behind. Wait, a hoarse voice called out, and both lfwine and Egil turned around. Behind them, a young man came running and caught up with them. His motives quickly became clear as he drew a rusty knife.


    I saw you had silver back there, he said, throwing his head in the direction of the vige. Hand it over.


    lfwine leaned forward with both hands on his staff, aging his voice. You would rob a blind man and an orphan?


    Id rob the Seven and Eighth if they showed up in this Hel-forsaken ce, the mugger sneered. Now give me!


    lfwine sighed audibly while his hands slid down along his staff. This had the effect of extending its reach when he straightened up and swung the staff at the robbers temple. With a loud sh, he was struck unconscious. What a fool, lfwine said contemptuously. Let us hope for his sake the Seven and Eighth did not hear him. Egil, take his knife from him and throw it away as far as you can, he told the boy, who quicklyplied.


    How did you know where to hit him like that? Egil asked impressed as they continued on their way.


    He was breathing loudly through his mouth.


    Slightly more wary, they approached a new vige. It was situated near the only real road this far north, connecting northern Theodstan in Adalrik with the seat of n Boyd in Heohlond. A few naked hillsy between the road and the vige, shielding it from sight, though the slow rise of smoke from a few chimneys gave its presence away. Leaving the road and passing over the hills, they had a good view of the different huts. Entering, they asked around about buying provisions until they had luck.


    We are looking to go towards Glen Hollow, Egil exined to a woman from whom they bought cheese and bread. Can you point us in the direction of the next vige between here and there?


    There arent any, said the woman, the local cksmiths wife. What do you want with that ce?


    My brother died as a thane, lfwine exined. I want my nephew to see where his father died, which would be near there.


    You want to go where the prince was killed, the woman shuddered, making a sign with her fingers to avert evil. Its not a ce for the living anymore. They say the spirits of the dead linger, and it attracts unsavoury creatures like Elvenfolk.


    We do not n to linger, lfwine said. Merely see the ce and be on our way again.


    Well, theres the tavern down the street, you might find somebody to take you, the cksmiths wife considered. But mark my words, youll regret going there.


    As they stepped inside the tavern, conversation halted at once and all eyes turned. The distrust, if not outright hostility, was almost palpable. If you have meals for us, it would be appreciated, lfwine told the innkeeper.


    I need more than gratitude in return, the owner said brusquely. An eagle per meal.


    lfwine did not argue the hefty price but dug out two silver pieces and let them fall onto the desk. When we have eaten, he continued, we are in need of a local guide who can take us to our next destination.


    The barkeep made a grumbling sound as he went into the back; when he returned, he carried with him lukewarm stew in two bowls. We arent fond of showing strangers around here.


    Theres silver in it aspensation for time spent, of course, lfwine promised.


    This changed the innkeepers tune. ns a woodcutter, he knows the area pretty well. Dous, he goes into the mire for peat, knows where to step and where not. And Ronan hunts, he said, gesturing to each man as he mentioned their names, apparently oblivious to the cloth covering lfwines eyes.


    Lead me to them, lfwine muttered, extending his arm towards Egil, who took hold of it and led the blindfolded man over to where the locals sat. I am seeking a man with strong knowledge of the surroundings, lfwine began, which did not elicit any responses. I require that he navigates me and mypanion to the location where the prince Sigmar and his thanes were in. Again he received no answer, only intense stares. lfwine reached into his broad cloak and took out a small purse. I pay in silver, naturally, the beggar-d man said, which finally made half a dozen men or so exchange nces.


    Ill take you, one man said, standing up. Those who had been able to watch the innkeepers gestures would recognise him as the peat digger Dous. We can go there in about an hour and be back before sundown. I want ten marks. Five now, five after.


    Excellent, lfwine remarked. Allow us to finish our meal and we shall be on our way.


    While lfwine and Egil returned to their bowls of stew, their new guide remained with hisrades, exchanging words and finishing his drink. Finally, Dous stood up again and walked over to them as they emptied their dishes. Lets go, he said gruffly, before it gets anyter. Dont want to get caught out there after nightfall.


    ~~~~


    lfwine and Egil left the vige behind, following the peat digger north after giving him his initial five silver marks. They were approaching the northern-most boundaries of the Adalmearc with the endless forest of Alfskog not far away. So far, lfwine and Egil had travelled on the road that connected the towns of n Boyds territory with the northern parts of Theodstan on the other side of the border. However, the road ran east-west, and Dous turned from it on their course northwards.


    Thendscape slowly changed, bing less dotted with hills. The group walked inplete silence, but after an hour, the terrain under their feet became less firm, and water sshed under their boots. Trees in distorted shapes stood haphazardly surrounding them with long growths of nts not found further south. Around them, a fog seemed to rise from the bog, dimming their vision.


    Finally their guide stopped. I dont want to go further, he said. Its an evil ce where all those men died. But you see the big, dead tree up ahead in the distance? he asked Egil.


    I see it, the boy responded.


    Go some hundred or hundred and fifty steps beyond. The swamp might hide most of the signs, but look around and youll see whats left of the prince and his men. Ill be waiting here for your return and the rest of my silver, the peat digger told them.


    We are much obliged, lfwine said. He extended his hand until it found Egils shoulder to guide him, and they continued on their own.


    When they were closer to the dead oak tree that marked their direction, lfwine quietly spoke hispanions name. Do not turn to look or otherwise show signs of distress. Keep walking at this pace, he said to Egil.


    Whats wrong? the boy asked as his voice grew unsteady. lfwines grip upon his shoulder grew firmer.


    Something troubles me. Why would the prince leave the roads and travel into this mire?


    You think he was misled?


    No, young master Egil, I think we are. That and the fact that while they have kept themselves out of sight, the wind carries the footsteps of a handful of men towards me. We are being followed.


    Egil seized up, but lfwine moved his hand to grab Egils arm in a strong hold and forced the boy to continue walking. I believe this is why our guide excused himself. He has turned around to lead the others to us and conclude their ambush. I estimate their numbers are up towards half a score of men, no doubt some of them with bows and arrows.


    What do we do? Egil asked panicked as the information sunk in while they slowly walked forward.


    Look ahead, lfwinemanded him. Do you see the Alfskog?


    No, Egil said. The mist wont let me see that far. Were probably miles south of it.


    Then you must run. I will keep them at bay while you run to safety. Should any of them pursue you, they will not dare enter the Alfskog. Or if they do, the forest will deal with their intrusion.


    What about my intrusion? whispered Egil. Their constant pace was leading them close to the dead tree.


    You must now listen very closely and do not doubt me or raise questions, lfwine said, quietly and quickly. He was still holding Egils arm in a firm grip. With his other hand, he took the small dagger from his belt, which he normally used to cut his meat with. I will carve protection upon your arm. Keep it visible at all times while you are in the forest. Do not stop running until you reach the tree line, and run as far into the forest as you can. I will find you afterwards, lfwine exined.


    Wait, carve? Egil said, almost squealing. lfwine did not reply but stopped; he pushed Egils sleeve up and held it with a grip as firm as stone. Before Egil could protest further, lfwine carved something resembling a rune directly into Egils skin while the boy gave a surprised yelp turning into a howl of pain.


    Make sure this is visible, and they will not hurt you, lfwine said and turned his head as sounds reached him. Our pursuers are here. Run! he yelled and pushed Egil forward.


    Theyre running, boys! shouted Dous. Neil, Lorne, get the boy! Ronan, shoot somebody already!


    An arrow whistled into the air and Egil saw it strike into the tree by which lfwine stood. Run! the blindfolded man repeated as footsteps in the mire announced that their attackers were fast approaching. Egil finallyplied and he ran north. He cast onest nce back. It revealed lfwine throwing down his hood and unsping his cloak before he flung it aside; this in turn revealed his linen tunic, the leather jerkin underneath it, and the sword by his side. Out of the mist like a nightmare came two of the men from the vige with hatchets in their hands; they ran straight for Egil, who bolted as fast as he could towards the Alfskog.

 Chapter 8: ?lfwine

    Chapter 8: ?lfwine


    lfwine


    Northern Heohlond


    Having disposed of his cloak, lfwine did likewise with the blindfold; his other hand drew his sword. Another arrow came out of the fog and struck his leather armour, which lfwine ignored. With his heavy cloak gone, his thin frame could be seen in the pale light that managed to prate the mist, the same light that illuminated his gleaming de. Two of the muggers came charging forward while lfwine stood calmly awaiting them; as they reached him, he evaded their short des with the ease of the wind passing through the branches of a tree. Two quick strokes bloodied his sword and felled them both. Another arrow came flying through the air, striking him in his side, which caused a sharp inhtion in pain through gritted teeth.


    As lfwine moved forward, the mist was thin enough that his remaining attackers were visible. There were three; Dous was to his right, the hunter Ronan and a third man to his left. The third man, armed with a heavy axe, came swinging with a heavy roar. lfwine reacted by rushing forward, striking the pommel of his sword into his opponents stomach before the axe couldplete its arch. Momentarily incapacitated, the third man dropped his axe and could not prevent lfwine from seizing him under the shoulder; turning, lfwine used his captive as a living shield, protecting him from Ronans arrows.


    This proved unnecessary though; with his keen eyes, the hunter had a good glimpse of lfwine and had already lowered his bow with a look of disbelief and terror. Dous ran forward with his long knife; the only weapon he had brought, ostensibly to avoid arousing his victims suspicions. Horror overtook him as he saw lfwines eyes clearly, burning into his own. lfwine, still holding the third man in an iron grip, turned Dous knife aside and nted his sword in the peat diggers chest.


    Letting go of the sword, lfwine instead caught Dous knife as it was slipping from his increasingly lifeless fingers. lfwine turned and threw the dagger into the hunter, who fell to the ground with a scream. The third man began to make pleas, but lfwine casually threw him to the ground and used a heel against the others kneecap; it broke with a crushing sound. Moving a few paces, lfwine ced a boot against the peat diggers corpse and pulled his sword out of Dous chest. Thest remaining mugger began to crawl away while mumbling prayers or curses, impossible to tell which; in either case, the only answer he received was lfwines sword through his back.


    Having dispatched all of the attackers, lfwine began to breathe heavily and rxed his tense muscles. He pulled his sword out of thest bandit and ced it against the ground to lean against it. The first arrow that had struck him had been stopped by the leather armour and was not difficult to remove. But a red stain was beginning to seep through his linen tunic on the side where the second arrow had hit. lfwine turned and walked back to the dead oak tree, nting his sword in the soft earth around it; then he sank down beside the tree and used its trunk to lean against as he sat down.


    First, he broke most of the shaft away so that he could pull his tunic over his head and let it drop onto his cloak. Then, with fingers trembling slightly, he unsped the leather that protected him. The splintered arrow shaft protruding from his left side made the process more difficult, and it ended up taking him longer time than he had spent ying his assants. Finally, he could remove the leather with jerking motions; not without disturbing his wound, though, and he gasped in pain a couple of times.


    With tunic and leather gone, only his inner garment remained. Even in the pale misty sun, the fabric glistened a dark shade of green and revealed itself to be made entirely from silk. Where the arrow had entered, lfwine carefully took hold of the cloth. Such were the tensile properties of the material that the arrowhead had not torn through it as it had done with the coarser linen tunic. It had simply stretched the silk and pushed it into the wound in front of the arrow. With careful, painful tugs, lfwine pulled the silk back, and the arrow followed suit, falling to the ground. Opening a pouch on his belt, lfwine took some rags and pressed them against his wound until the bleeding stopped.


    Standing up, his strength slowly returning, lfwine pulled the linen tunic over his silken shirt and used the remainder of the rags to clean his sword. In the fight, the leather strips coiled around its hilt and handle hade slightly loose, revealing a glimmer of gold. The steel of the de was unusual too with countless patterns upon the metal looking like waves thrashing upon the surface of the de. lfwine tightened the leather strips before he turned north and followed the tracks of the men pursuing Egil.


    ~~~~


    Egil was running with all the strength that his pasty legs contained. Unfortunately, being apprenticed to the Kings Quill meant mostly working with ones hands while sitting down, so his speed and endurance was not particrly impressive. Before long he was panting for air, but as soon as he stopped, he could hear the sounds of people running behind him somewhere in the fog. This proved a remarkable source of motivation, and Egil ran forward again, losing track of time as well as his surroundings. It was only as thendscape changed and the trees grew thicker that he could discern he had entered the Alfskog.


    The mist grew thinner as he went deeper into the woods, but eerie sounds of movement still surrounded Egil. It also meant that once his pursuers caught up, the mist would not help conceal him, only the trees could. It was impossible to tell if the sounds wereing from behind or ahead; if maybe it were only birds and small creatures, if it were nothing at all or perhaps something to fear.


    Eventually Egil had to stop again and catch his breath. His eyes darted in every direction, but he saw no other living creature. Moments passed, and it seemed he was safe. There was no sign of the bandits pursuing him despite his lengthy pause. It was possible they had lost track of him or that they had not dared pursue him; the more chilling thought was that something had prevented them. Unsure what to do, Egil stood wavering until a scream pierced the air and helped spur his decision process. With newfound strength, he ran deeper into the forest while calling out the names of all the gods, even begging the Hidden One to save him. Any deity who would deign to listen seemed eptable to the former Temple novice.


    The screams stopped, though it was impossible to say whether it was because Egil had moved out of range or because the source was no longer able to scream. Egil stopped, looking around as if he could gain his bearings or know from his surroundings what to do. He leaned against arge bough tree with his left hand, havingpletely exerted himself. As he did this, his sleeve slid away a bit and revealed the dried blood on his arm. Taking a few deep breaths, he pulled the sleeve all the way up and scratched some of the dry blood away. The cuts were shallow and had not bled much, and Egil turned his head trying to view the mark from different angles. It appeared to be a rune of some kind, but it was unlike anything found in the royal library.


    Rubbing his damaged skin, Egil turned around. Then he opened his mouth to scream in panic, but no sound came out. Standing less than ten feet away was a man of some sort. He was d in brown leather that blended well with his surroundings, though his skin was exceedingly pale, ufortably so. Two things drew attention above all. Firstly that the other persons eyes were not human by any measure. What should have been white waspletely green, and the inner part of the eyes was not divided into circles with a ck centre. No, the entire inner part, iris and pupil, was one colour as if blind. However, this creature had the power of sight, for those bewitching eyes were focused on Egil; furthermore, in his hands the eerie stranger held a bow with an arrow pointed at the boy, which was the second thing worthy of note.


    He opened his mouth and spoke sounds that Egil had no understanding of at all. It did not sound like any tongue of Men. It flowed like a river, came swiftly and furiously, and tears formed in Egils eyes. Please, dont hurt me! I beg of you, by the Seven and Eighth, do not hurt me!


    The archer repeated sybles like those spoken before, and this time he used the readied arrow to gesture towards Egils lower arm. Looking down, Egils eyes widened as he saw the crude mark etched into his own skin. Yes! Dont hurt me, please! Whatever this is, dont hurt me! Im not a threat, Im not a bandit, he pleaded to no avail; the archers sounds grew increasingly angry. Please! lfwine made this mark, he promised it would protect me!


    lfwine? The stream of eerie words stopped, reced by one recognisable in Mearcspeech.


    Yes! lfwine, he made this. You know him?


    lfwine? the archer repeated. He spoke again in his ownnguage, but it was not directed at Egil. Behind the boy, another warrior stepped out from between the trees, and a shock went through Egil as he became aware of the second archers presence.


    The new warrior walked in a circle around Egil to stand next to hispanion; at all times he kept a readied arrow pointing at Egil. They conferred briefly, speaking rapidly. Finally, they seemed to reach some kind of conclusion. Both eased their arrows and returned them to their quivers. They lowered their bows and inclined their heads in greeting. lfwine, they both said.


    Egil gave an audible sigh of relief until an expression crossed his face. lfwine! He needs our help! Please,e! he said, pointing to the direction he hade from. The archers stood frowning and exchanged nces. Hoping to spur them into action, Egil began running back south. Within moments, the warriors were by his side, keeping pace without passing by him.


    It was not long before one of them shot his arm out in front of Egils chest and forced him to an abrupt halt. He pulled the boy away from the track they had been following through the forest, and both archers ced an arrow at the ready. A rustle in the leaves announced to Egil what had rmed them; there was somebody moving through the trees. A tall shape appeared, and the frail evening sun managed tond a few rays to illuminate its bloodied tunic and the sword in its hand; looking up, Egil saw the same eerie eyes that the two archers had. It was his travellingpanion of several weeks.


    The warriors from the woods likewise seemed surprised, but recovered quickly. They lowered their bows; falling to the ground in submission, their left knee touched the dirt before they rested their right elbow upon the other. Their hand remained open, outstretched in a gesture that strangely resembled the hands carved into the altar of the Temple in Middanhal. While Egil observed all of this, the other three quickly conversed in the speech that meant nothing to him. It went back and forth for a short while, seemingly with lfwine asking questions and receiving answers. Finally the two archers rose, inclined their heads to Egil again and left, leaving barely a trace of their presence.


    Come on, lfwine said. We have to collect my gear.


    Egil stood bewildered and then finally eximed, You can see!


    Your powers of observation continue to serve well, lfwine said with a hint of a scornful smile as they moved out of the woods. Yes, I too have those very powers at my full disposal.


    But why? Why pretend to be a blind man? Weve been on the road for weeks, Egilined. lfwine did not respond but merely turned and set his eyes on Egil. It was unnerving enough that where they should be white, they were green; but the centre burned blue with such intensity, Egil was forced to look away. I suppose the blindfold makes sense, Egil acknowledged reluctantly.


    It allows me to move unhindered, unnoticed, yet it is thin enough that I can perceive what is near me.


    Why are your eyes like that? And theirs, those men I met, the boy by his side asked.


    Impress me with your skills in reasoning, lfwine said with his unnerving smile.


    They werent Men, Egil said, specting. Not human, I mean. Nor Dwarves. He suddenly shied away from lfwine. Are you demons? he asked with a quaking voice.


    Nothing quite as terrible, lfwine replied, his smile turning sardonic. Now that his eyes could be seen along with the rest of his face, it made his expressions seem all the stronger and far more intimidating.


    What lives in the Alfskog? Egil asked himself, still keeping some small measure of distance between them. Alfskog. lfwine. In the elder tongue, Alfskog means Elves. Those archers were Elves. You are Elvenfolk, he said in realisation, stopping dead in his tracks while looking at lfwine in fear.


    Well done, young master Egil, lfwine said, turning his terrible eyes onto the boy.


    Thats why people fear the Alfskog. They kill them, everybody who enters. Your people kill them.


    Most, lfwine admitted. Those who take to the woods are rarely good people. But not all, the Elf finished and began walking again.


    Oh, right. Me, Egil said awkwardly. Why did you help me this way?


    I could not know how many they were, lfwine answered. While they were clearly not warriors and little match for me, some of them could easily have killed you while I was fighting. I sent you into the fog and the woods, hoping that would keep you safe.


    But why save me? Why have your warriors protect me?


    lfwine stopped again, this time looking at Egil with a frown. I gave my word. My honour is entwined with your survival. How could I have acted differently?


    But, youre a beggar, Egil objected. Youre not a knight or a lord. Who knows you or would know that you broke your promise? None would ever know that you broke your word.


    That is not the meaning of honour, lfwine muttered as he continued walking once more as they left the forest and entered the mire again.


    I dont understand, Egil said as he caught up.


    I am not the least surprised to hear such an admission, lfwine remarked.


    I thought your people were legend.


    We are, lfwine shrugged. Nothing remains of us in yournds. I am the only one south of the forest.


    But why? Egil asked eagerly. You disguise yourself as a beggar, you suffer peoples scorn, why?


    Because the one you call Godfrey asked for my assistance.


    Are you indebted to him? How can a man like him receive aid from an Elf? I have always been told Elves kill Men, or enchant them to stand paralysed until they die, or imprison them and use them for cruel sport.


    That is a question you must ask him, lfwine said with his mirthless smile.


    Why did the Elves in the forest not kill me? I am fairly certain they were less merciful towards those two men chasing me.


    Another reason I hide under a shroud of deception, lfwine said, stroking his forehead with his fingertips. It spares me the onught of questions from curious children.


    Sorry, Egil said in apology. It just seems rather coincidental that I am still breathing air, while they ended up riddled with arrows.


    If you want to know, figure it out on your own, lfwine told him.


    They spared me because of you, Egil said, beginning his spections once more. They knew the name lfwine. Except they didnt speak Mearcspeech, so they probably know you by another name. A few moments passed while Egil continued to utter his musings. But they did recognise lfwine. They knew it, it made them lower their arrows. He scratched his left arm, which was attracting insects. Looking down, he nced at the mark. The sign you carved in my skin, he said in slow realisation. lfwine. It means Elf-friend in the old speech. They werent repeating your name. They acknowledged me as an Elf-friend, he said with a triumphant voice.


    Indeed, lfwine replied, his smile seeming genuine for once. In the old days, if we were indebted to one of your kind, we would mark their skin in this manner permanently with dye. To be an Elf-friend meant we looked upon that person as one of our own, someone to be given every aid.


    Is Godfrey an Elf-friend?


    A good guess, lfwine acknowledged, but no. I suppose I consider him such. But I do not think there has been an Elf-friend in a thousand years.


    What about me? Egil said hopefully. lfwine burst intoughter for the first time since they had begun their travels together.


    Not quite, young master Egil. Those cuts will fade and barely leave scars. I would not enter the Alfskog again if I were you. It will not save you a second time.


    Why was I sent with you? If you can see. You can obviously handle yourself, Egil said contemtively.


    Thend has changed, lfwine said quietly. Cities, towns and viges, roads. I have not been here in a long time. They had reached the dead oak tree and where lfwines things were still lying scattered, surrounded by the corpses of their attackers.


    I still cant believe they were going to kill us, Egil said and shivered as he looked at the dead vigers. For what? The few silvers in our purse?


    Apparently, lfwine spected as Egil helped him put on his cloak; then he gave the boy the leather jerkin to hold. In any case, we still have a task to fulfil. I just need to rest a bit, he said, sitting down in the same position with his back against the dead tree. Egil, the Elf continued, I must elicit a promise from you.


    Yes?


    When you recount this story to your master or anybody else, make no mention of my nature. My people have been forgotten as we truly are, and I should wish it remain that way.


    Of course, Egil promised him. But isnt that sad? Imagine what my master could learn, what he could add to the books if he could speak with you freely.


    lfwine allowed a smile of the genuine kind to flicker over his face. Not until the sun rise at night would I consent to such. No, this is the way the world has be. Once I see you safely returned to Middanhal, I shall disappear. I do not think that you, or any other of your kind, will see an Elf again in this lifetime.


    But, Egil began to object, but a raised hand from lfwine silenced him.


    No more, lfwinemanded. I will abide no further questions. He took the blindfold and bound it around his head. I am a beggar once again, nothing more.


    ~~~~


    They ended up spending an unpleasant night in the bog. It had been toote in the evening to seek elsewhere except perhaps the vige where their wee would be doubtful. Egil spent most of the night waking up to scratch his itching wound or fend off insects attracted to it. When a new day dawned, however, lfwine shared some information he had been too tired to mention the day before. The Elven scouts had told him they knew of a hunter living in a lonesome cabin due west; they observed him from time to time in case he ever ventured inside the woods. While they knew nothing more, naturally having no contact with him, lfwine and Egil decided to test their luck.


    Well met, lfwine called out as they approached his cabin. We are travellers seeking aid and d to pay for it.


    They heard the sound of the door being unbolted; an old man appeared in the doorway. Pay, you say?


    In good silver, Egil added.


    Well, you dont look like highwaymen, the old man mumbled and gestured for them to enter. Mind you, you cant be too careful. Theres a vige not far from here, they always give me the bad eye when I go there to sell my furs.


    We are acquainted with its inhabitants, lfwine muttered. We require your services, however, in regards to your knowledge of the area. Are you familiar with Glen Hollow?


    Aye, the old man replied. Its not far from here, some hours march. What remains of it.


    And the site of the battle? Where the prince Sigmar was in.


    That too, the old man confirmed. About the same direction, but not much more than an hour or two.


    Can you take us there? Today, if possible.


    Sure, the old man said, hesitating only slightly. You mentioned


    Yourpensation, of course, lfwine said, digging into his cloak and letting several silver pieces fall onto the table in front of him. If the old man wondered how a blind beggar knew that there was a table right there, he was polite enough not to bring it up.


    Lets go, the old man said, putting on his cloak.


    In the time it took to reach the site of the ambush, they learned the old hunters name was Sheridan, but other than that, they exchanged no other words. He led them south and back to the road that was the northern connection between Adalrik and Heohlond, and they followed it for an hour. When thend began to slope downwards, Sheridan stopped. Right there ahead, he said, pointing at where the road made a few twists and turns. Well not quite, a bit further. I dont like to go much closer though if you dont mind. Bad ce to linger, he added in a quiet voice.


    Very well, lfwine epted, although Egils expression showed that he remembered yesterdays events and was less serene about letting their guide out of sight. If you would do us the kindness of remaining here, we shall return before long.


    The two continued on their own. I would have asked him to stay at some distance regardless, lfwine said, having perhaps noticed Egils expression even through theyer of the blindfold. Now that you know my secret, I might as well have unrestricted eyesight if I am to glean anything useful.


    When they reached the area pointed out by the hunter, lfwine removed his blindfold and they both looked around. There was little as such to show this had been the sight of a battle, even a minor one. The prince had travelled with about a score of his thanes, but all their bodies had been recovered and buried elsewhere. There were a few fragments from what might be weapons and the decayed pieces of dead horses lying here and there, but little else.


    I knew it, Egilined. Wevee all this way, risked our lives, and theres nothing to see! I dont even understand why we had toe here, but clearly it was pointless.


    Because, lfwine said slowly, this is not where the prince was ambushed.


    You think the old man lied to us? What, again? Egils voice came shrill as a whistle.


    No, lfwine said patiently, the few pieces here do suggest this is where the prince and his men were found. But I do not believe they were in at this location. He turned and pointed back from where they hade. Thisst hour, thend has slowly grown more t, a small valley up here in the hignds. If we went back an hour or two, the hilly terrain would be far better suited for finding an ambush spot.


    Then he ran a few steps towards the west, standing on the road. The prince and his retinue came from the west, moving east, if I remember what little your master told me. They would have had a decent vision of their surroundings. You might have been able to hide a handful of men, but enough to ambush and kill a score of the best warriors? lfwine shook his head.


    What does this mean? asked Egil.


    I think the prince was killed elsewhere. The bodies of the in were brought here to make it appear it was an ambush out in the open, lfwine exined his theory.


    Where did it happen then? Egil asked eagerly, his curiosity reaching its peak.


    Had it taken ce further east, they would have found a more believable location, lfwine considered. If this ce seemed most suitable to them, it must have been further west. Near the border to Adalrik.


    What do we do then? asked Egil.


    lfwine tied the blindfold around his head. Let us return to our local wayfarer. The pair walked the short distance back towards the hunter. Good master, lfwine called out as they approached the old man, are there any other sites of battle near here?


    Sheridan scratched his head in contemtion. Not that I know of. Well except Glen Hollow, of course, the vige where the princes attackers came from. It was burned down in retribution, they say.


    You are sure? Steps might have been taken to conceal that such a skirmish took ce.


    Well, I cant be sure then, can I? But I know how to track animals and read thend, the hunter retorted. If there were any signs to see, Id have seen them.


    In that case, if you would kindly take us to Glen Hollow, it will be worth your while, lfwine promised.


    Sheridan did not object to leading them to the ill-fated vige, though he took a path that avoided the road and the presumed ce of where the prince was ambushed. While Egil several times seemed inclined to ask questions of lfwine, the presence of the uninitiated old man kept his words back. At length they reached what remained of Glen Hollow. It would have been a pleasant little vige, well situated near a brook and surrounded by what seemed like sufficiently fertilends. Most buildings were burned almost to the ground, however, and those remaining were little more than derelict ruins. It seemedrge enough that it might have held up to a hundred people, but it was clear that none had lived here for many years. As before, Sheridan preferred to keep his distance while lfwine and Egil followed the road into the vige.


    They walked around, examining every house. What are we searching for? asked Egil.


    Anything that might support our spections, lfwine said, turning his eerie eyes in every direction.


    They walked through burned down walls and half-copsed roofs, pushing destroyed furniture aside. The bodies of the in vigers were not in sight, but asionally they found evidence of death as well; it was little more than bones, however, since the elements and animals had devoured the rest.


    Found something, Egil called out, bending down to pull it free. Oh, its just a pair of tongs, he said disappointed. This must have been the smithy. The rest of the smithy yielded nothing, and they continued their search. Found something! No, wait, its just a log. With the soot I thought it looked like never mind. An hour passed. Found something! Oh, the head of a hammer. Probably belonged to a cobbler or something.


    Are your idle spections aiding you in searching these ruins? lfwine asked sharply.


    No, Egil admitted with a blush. Its just odd, knowing that people lived here once. A cksmith, a cobbler, a weaver, ordinary people, he said, his voice trailing off as he bent down and picked something up. Whats this?


    lfwine moved over. While the shaft was broken, it was without doubt an arrowhead. Now this is interesting, he said.


    You think this means something? Egil asked excitedly.


    Perhaps. Does your song mention what happened exactly? How the vige came to be in this state?


    It doesnt, Egil said. But the stories say that the princes yers came from the vige and they were killed as punishment. Some im that a few of the thanes escaped the ambush and returned here, killing all they found. Others say that the Order burned down the vigeter in retribution. Why?


    I had ample chance to examine the local arrowheads yesterday, lfwine exined. Long and slender, arrows for hunting that are easy to pull out from the prey. I hardly needed my shirt, in fact.


    What?


    Regardless, lfwine continued smoothly, this is different. Notice these two tips sitting opposite on the arrowhead. This arrow is barbed with the two opposite tips making it impossible to pull out of a wound.


    Its not for hunting, its for war, Egil realised.


    Yes, lfwine confirmed. Someone came here from the south with a party of archers. But if it were those who burned this vige in retribution for the princes death, I suppose it does not tell us anything new.


    Oh, Egil said, his disappointment almost palpable. Ill keep looking.


    Where are all the vigers, lfwine wondered aloud after a moment.


    Theyre dead, Egil replied.


    But where are their bones, their bodies? I have only seen evidence of a very few, and this ce must have been home to scores of people.


    Maybe somebody buried them? Like they did with the prince and thanes, Egil suggested.


    Possibly, lfwine said a little doubtfully, but I have not noticed anything resembling graves nearby. I understand taking the prince and his men to Middanhal for burial, but I doubt they would have brought these simple vigers far away.


    Maybe the bodies are just hiding in the rubble, Egil continued. I could smell something over by what used to be the vige hall.


    That is odd, lfwine said, frowning. Show me.


    Why is that odd? Corpses stink, dont they, said Egil as he led the way.


    Exposed like this to the weather and wild beasts, there should be little left after so many years. Just the bones, lfwine exined as they reached the burned remains of what had once been arge building. What is or was this ce?


    Local vige hall, Egil exined. For feasts or when the elders assembled in the local Thing.


    They ventured inside what was still standing of the structure, and now they could follow their noses. Reaching the ce where the smell was strongest, lfwine let his unearthly eyes nce around until he found a hatch in the floor. It took some difficulty since the hinges had be rusty, but he managed to pull it open, and the smell grew stronger.


    ncing at Egil, lfwine descended the stairs, soon followed by the boy. They found themselves in arge cer of sorts, a storage room that was surprisingly dry. Small barrels stood nearby, full of various kinds of food, fruit, and vegetable that had be rotten, releasing a bad odour. At the other end of the room and opposite the stairs were fourrge barrels, nearly the height of a man.


    Its storage for their food, Egil exined. Most vige halls will have cers like this. The big barrels are for grain, kept dry down here, he added with a throw of his head towards the grain containers.


    Is that so, lfwine muttered, and he walked over to therge barrels. He had to raise his hands up to be able to grab the heavy lid and push it away. He peered over the edge of the barrel and into its depth.


    Egil grabbed a small stedder, once used for adding or removing grain to therge barrels. You should keep your distance, lfwine told Egil, but he did not stop the boy. Stepping up so that he was tall enough to see, Egil had the same view as lfwine did. The first sight that met him was a pair of hollow eye sockets, belonging to a small child. The eyes themselves had rotted away, and the face itself had lost some of its features, but the clothes had not particrly decayed and revealed they had belonged to a girl. Shey near the top of the barrel, indicating manyyers of bodies beneath her.


    Egil more or less fell down from the stedder and ended down on all fours, where he emptied his stomach of its contents. Then came another urge and another until his insides had been wrung out. Judging by their clothing, we have found the vigers, lfwine said, and Egil turned to look at him with a pained expression. Let us leave, the Elf added, grabbing Egil by one arm and pulling him up, practically shoving him up the stairs. Once away from the scene and the smell, Egil only had to vomit onest time; then his body became stable again, and he eagerly took in the fresh air.


    If they had been killed in an act of vengeance, their bodies would have been left where they fell, lfwine spected loudly. Or maybe somebody would haveid them to rest properly. What made this necessary? With the vige burning, why hide the in? Egil opened his mouth, but another wave of nausea was seen on his face, and he quickly closed it again, leaving lfwine to continue his spections. Because it did not happen at the same time. Of course. The arrowhead, trained archers. A different site for the ambush, dragging the prince and thanes away. Egil, lfwine said suddenly, turning to look at hispanion. I believe I can weave together a story thatplies with all we have learned.


    It was not a spontaneous uprising that led to the princes death, lfwine began to exin. It was meticulously nned. Our would-be murderers knew the prince would be travelling this way through Theodstan to Heohlond, and they knew that he and his retinue would pass through the vige. A vige of suitable size to hide enough men for the deed, archers from the south. Offering the prince water or food would also give an excuse to make him dismount, possibly, herd his men together in the vige centre, have him lower his guard.


    It frightens me how skilfully you enter the mind of such a person, Egil shuddered, but lfwine did not seem to notice.


    A deadly rain of arrows strike down upon the prince and his men. The fighting may be fierce, but it is over shortly. Beforehand they have already killed the vigers, and they n to set the ce to the torch and thus hide any signs of their involvement. But they must pretend the vige burns as vengeance for the in prince. So first they drag the bodies as far as they can east, further into n Boyds territory. Afterwards, they burn Glen Hollow to the ground and disappear west into Adalrik.


    But why? Why this borate scheme to kill the prince?


    To incite war in Heohlond, lfwine contemted, or to change the session in Adalrik. Perhaps something else entirely. It could be we are mistaken in our deductions, though I do not think so.


    What do we do?


    We return to Middanhal, where you report our findings to your master.


    As they left the ruins, the old hunter was still waiting for them. It was approaching evening, but the long summer day allowed them to reach his home before it grew dark. lfwine paid him another handful of silver coins for his services and for letting them spend the night in shelter. When they woke the next morning, the old man gave them some bread and dried rabbit meat for breakfast and the return journey. He also apanied them some of the distance south, showing them the road that they would take to Adalrik.


    In the remaining period of time they shared the old hunterspany, lfwine took the opportunity to ask further questions. Do you have many travellers in these parts?


    Cant say we do, Sheridan answered, scratching his beard. You two are the first Ive seen this year. There were more, before the war, mostly traders and peddlers bidding their wares to the viges.


    Do you recall any who caught your attention the same year that the prince was in? One who like us was mostly interested in they of thend.


    There was one around that time, who caught folks curiosity back in Glen Hollow. Not because of any interest in thend, though, but because he had a gold coin. Dont think any of the people in that vige had ever seen one before, the old manughed. Nor me,e to think of it.


    That sounds strange, Egil said. It must be dangerous travelling with such wealth.


    Or perhaps it was a precaution against danger, lfwine told him. A heavy bag of silver is easy to notice and have stolen from you. A few gold coins, sewn into your clothes, would carry more wealth and escape notice as well. As long as you can find somewhere to spend such coins, of course, which I imagine is difficult up here.


    Aye, said Sheridan, that was his trouble. See, the coin was foreign with strange markings. Didnt have the dragon on it, as all good coins should. In the end, he had to sell it for only half a crowns worth just to get some silver in his hands.


    How interesting, lfwine said, rubbing the dirt on his chin which concealed his youthful appearance. Do you recall what manner of coin it was?


    Well, I did not see it myself, Sheridan admitted.


    Do you know who bought it? Who might have it? lfwine continued.


    The old man hesitated a bit. Sorry, good master, I am not sure. I think it was another trader, heading south. Dont think it was any living in these parts, Id probably remember.


    Thank you nheless, lfwine said, his mind already elsewhere.


    They bid the aged hunter farewell once they reached the paved roads leading south, and lfwine gave him the blessings of Austre to follow him on his future hunts. When they were alone once more and had resumed their travels, Egil could not restrain himself further. What did it mean? All that about the gold coins.


    Perhaps it is merely rampant spection, lfwine said hesitantly. But I am confident that the ambush upon the prince was preordained and not some sudden insurrection by the hignders. It would make sense that the mind that conceived this would first travel through these parts and choose the location of the ambush. Find a suitablyrge vige on the road and such. And gold coins that are not chiselled with the dragon of Adalrik muste from beyond Adalmearc. The southernnds where Men also dwell.


    Alczar, Egil said, or the South Cities.


    Probably, lfwine conceded. Or somebody who has regr dealings with them. I know little of this.


    It sounds so dangerous. Attacking and killing the crown prince of Adalrik, Egil said contemtively. Or even just travelling up here with gold coins in your lining. Those vigers were ready to kill us just for our silver.


    Maybe, lfwine said with a measure of doubt. Or maybe they had been paid to take care of any who asked such questions as we did.


    Really? Who would go to such trouble? Its been ten years.


    lfwine shrugged. All this suggests very careful nning, so I would not deem it beyond the realm of possibilities. I admit, however, my thoughts might have strayed into the realm of unfounded spections. ce it far from your mind, young Egil, let it be a concern for your master. We have done what we could.


    ~~~~


    The remainder of their journey through Heohlond passed with little incident. The further south they came, the more often they encountered other travellers and civilised areas. Less touched by the war, thends of n Cameron were still prosperous, and none cared about or bothered a beggar and a boy. It was only when they crossed the border into Adalrik and entered the jarldom of Theodstan that things changed.


    It was not apparent at once, much in the same way that the border between the realms was not obvious. There were few people in the first viges they passed, but it had been much the same when lfwine and Egil hade this way travelling north; back then, many had been gone for the solstice festival. So the two travellers did not realise anything was different until they finally encountered argepany of armed men, taking rest by the roadside.


    Where are you headed, one of the soldiers shouted as he removed his helmet to wipe his brow clear of sweat. His voice was not unfriendly, merely curious.


    Taking my nephew to the Temple in Middanhal, lfwine replied. He is to be an acolyte there.


    Youve picked a poor time for going to Middanhal, the soldier spoke in turn. Where have youe from, Heohlond?


    Yes, answered Egil and quickly continued, whats happening in Middanhal?


    News hasnt reached the hignds yet? asked the warrior. Wars broken out. Were being mustered, all of Theodstan is. Middanhal is sealed, from what I hear, he told the travellers. He put his helmet back on, picked up his weapons, and followed hispany on the march south.

 Chapter 9: The Long Watch

    Chapter 9: The Long Watch


    The Long Watch


    The Langstan


    Not long after the Adalthing had assembled in Middanhal and while lfwine and Egil were reaching the northern parts of Heohlond, a pair of soldiers were patrolling the eastern Langstan between two watchtowers. This mighty line of fortifications began at the Eylonde Sea in the west and ran along the entire southern border of the realms of the Adalmearc until it reached Hthiod in the east. Here, the wall ran north until it reached the Weolcan Mountains, thus protecting all of Hthiods southern and eastern borders. Watchtowers were erected a mile apart with beacons on top to send signals.


    The Langstan had been built in ancient times, protecting against raiders and unsavoury creatures roaming the Reach thaty beyond. Manning the Langstan was one of the primary duties of the Order, and every watchtower had a knight and a garrison attached to it, at least ideally so. Being pressed for men and resources, there were several towers manned by less than half the soldiers intended, and fewer still had knights inmand. Yet the long watch had to be kept, every night and all through the night, so the two soldiers dutifully left their own tower and began walking south towards the next.


    They moved at a leisurely pace with torches in one hand and a spear in the other. This winds sharper than my wifes tongue, grumbled one of them.


    You shouldnt have gambled your cloak away, the other soldier admonished him. Its your own fault.


    What else is there to do but y dice?ined the cloak-less man. Gods, I hate wall duty even if theres extra pay.


    How many years have you got left?


    Five, he sighed. You?


    Two. But I might take another seven years afterwards, said the soldier who still had his cloak.


    Youre mad, Mark, came aughter. What inferno are you fleeing from that fourteen years at the Langstan are preferable?


    Not running, came the muttered reply. But my sister and her children have good use for the silver.


    Better man than me, snorted hispanion, who held his hand with the spear close to his torch for warmth.


    Youll end up setting your spear on fire, warned Mark as they by necessity slowed their pace so the other soldier could bnce his hands holding torch and spear.


    Nonsense, the soldier brushed him off.


    Sir Jerome will flog your hide if you lose your weapon, Mark said.


    Given what Ive lost in coin to the good knight, he should look on me with mercy, came the surly reply. Most of my pay end up in his pocket.


    If nothing else, youll pay for recing the spear.


    This caused Markspanion to jerk the spear and his hand away from the torch. Youre right, he mumbled. Better not risk it.


    A clever decision, Travis, Mark said gently and almost without derision in his voice.


    Lets pick up the pace and get out of this sted cold, Travis grumbled. It was past midnight, and they were surrounded by ck, though in the far distance, they saw flickering torches from the watchtower ahead. About halfway between the towers they would meet the patrol from the other garrison, and both pairs of soldiers would return to their own tower with the news that all was well; soon after, a new patrol would be sent out. Theres the old birch tree, Travis remarked. On their side of the wall grew a lone tree, which the soldiers used as a mark for how far they had walked on their patrol. If were already here, the other patrols beingzy.


    Somethings odd, Mark muttered.


    What?


    I dont see the torches of the other patrol.


    Isnt it those straight ahead?


    Too far away, Mark shook his head. Its the torch by the beacon on the other tower.


    Thats odd, Travis said. Could they have gone outside without?


    I suppose, Mark said doubtfully. Sounds strange though.


    Before Travis could say anything further, he stumbled and nearly fell over. What the zes was that? he cursed, and they both leaned down. The wall on which they walked was ten feet wide, and so it could easily amodate both of them walking side by side; however, on the side of the wall nearest to the Reach, they found arge shape that had caused Travis to stumble. Mark brought his torch down close while Travis grabbed the object. As he pulled it around, they both saw it was the body of an Order soldier.


    Immediately, both soldiers crouched low, making themselves less conspicuous. An arrow, Travis pointed out. Wait, several. Poor soul didnt even have time to scream a warning. You think his mate made it back to their tower?


    I doubt it, Mark replied. We would have heard something. He was probably walking on the inner side and fell down from the wall as he was shot, Mark guessed, ncing over the inner edge of the wall. There was a thirty-foot drop to the ground, and the darknesspletely concealed any bodies that might have fallen.


    Raiders?


    I suppose so, Mark said hesitantly. Just odd. Never heard of them crossing this far south, they usually do it up north by the mountains. Both of them nced around, but in the darkness, nothing was visible to them.


    They must have put out the torches and moved on. Damn ckboots are already ind.


    His body is not yet cold, though, Mark pointed out. They cannot be far. We must warn the towers, send out search parties.


    Ill take the south one, you go back, Travis said, straightening up. Theyll probably be heading  He was cut short by an arrow that ingrained itself into his skull. As he fell down next to the other corpse, Mark had clear vision of the angle that the arrow had struck Travis with. It had note from the ground east or west of the fortifications, but directly south; their enemy was still on the wall.


    Dropping his torch that made him a target and keeping only his spear, Mark ran north and back towards his own tower. To arms, to arms! he yelled while the air whistled with arrows around him. Were under attack, to arms! He repeated his cry of warning until he was out of breath and running confiscated all remaining energy. Ahead of him was the faint light from the torch beside the beacon on top of his watchtower; behind him, no further arrows came.


    Reaching the tower, there was a glow of lighting from behind the door where the rest of the soldiers from Marks garrison were on duty. Commotion could be heard as Mark shouted yet again. The door swung open, and death cries issued from inside. A warrior from the Reach, dressed in the dark leather and cloth that they employed on their raids, stepped out. The soldier of the Order did not hesitate but ran his spear straight forward and buried it in the ounder, who fell backwards. Mark let go of the spear and instead leapt up the stonedder carved into the side of the tower.


    On the t roof of the watchtower wasid wood for arge fire. A torch hung burning in a ring by the edge of the tower so fire was always avable to light the wood. However, next to the torch stood another ounder. Unlike the raiders, he was d in dark steel, and he seemed to melt into the surrounding darkness and the shadows cast by the flickering light. Only his eyes burned yellow. In his hands, he held a long, vicious de. Mark drew his own short sword, attacking and trying to reach the torch.


    The oundershed out and struck Marks de out of his hand with terrible strength. Then he gave a cruel smile at seeing the unarmed man in front of him, so desperate to reach the torch. As Mark stepped forward once again, it was all too easy to run the de through the Order soldier. Now it was Marks turn to smile with blood running down from his mouth. With one hand, he held onto the hilt of the sword that was gutting him; with the other hand, he reached out and barely managed to close his fingers around the torch. Before the ounder could stop him, he pulled it out of the ring and threw it over their heads. Itnded on the oil-soaked firewood and ignited it. His deed done, Mark sank to the ground. Thest that his eyes beheld was the beacon being lit; this meant that the beacon of the next watchtower would be lit, and the next beacon, and the next, passing on the message from the Langstan. The long watch had been broken.

 Chapter 10: The Bonds That Bind Us

    Chapter 10: The Bonds That Bind Us


    The Bonds That Bind Us


    Middanhal


    The jarl of Theodstan was taking breakfast in his quarters, not long after first bell, when a servant entered from the corridor. It was Holwine, whose attire showed signs of travel. You were gone long, Theodoric said briefly.


    Followed our man outside the city. He wasnt meeting anyone though, Holwine reported. He seemed to be leaving for good, going south. I followed him for days, approaching Ingmondsnds. I think he may have left the realm, he carried heavy provisions.


    Learn anything of note?


    Holwine shrugged. From what I can tell, this Godfrey met with none other than the Highfather, and it was more than once. But I couldnt get close enough to find out why.


    He met with the high priest himself?


    Yes, but the Temrs are a suspicious bunch. I could never hear what they spoke of.


    I suppose it is of little consequence now, Theodoric said, breaking off a piece of bread. The Adalthing is concluded, all is in order.


    Not quite, Holwine said hesitantly.


    Yes? Theodoric said, looking up.


    As I was walking back to the cityst night, I saw something. Holwine swallowed before continuing. The beacon at Wyrmpeak. It was lit.


    That sounds doubtful, Theodoric said dismissively. I am hardly certain the Order even mans the beacons anymore.


    Theres no doubt, Holwine insisted. You havent been outside your chambers today, have you? Nobody knows anything for certain, but the citys in an uproar, and theres a flurry of activity in the Citadel.


    I did wonder why people were so noisy, Theodoric mumbled. But those beacons have not been lit for what, five hundred years?


    I wouldnt know, milord, I wasnt taught history.


    If this is true, the Order will have to muster. I should speak with the lord marshal.


    Do you require anything from me, milord? asked Holwine.


    Help me get dressed, Theodoricmanded. And tell my sister when she returns from the gardens that we will have to postpone going to the Temple.


    ~~~~


    In thergest estate in the city, horses were being saddled, about a score of them for the jarls brother Konstans and his retinue. It was a few days ride to Coldharbour and then by ship down the river to Valcaster, the seat of the House of the Vale. Stepping outside, Konstans found his warriors ready and by their horses. Slipping on his gloves, he turned to his brother and niece. I shall see you in about a week, Konstans told them.


    Perhaps two, Valerian said hesitantly. The caravans are bringing more goods each year, it is taking me longer to go through the ledgers. And there may be a few discrepancies I have to investigate.


    I am sure you will root them out, Konstans said, moving towards his horse.


    Safe travels, Uncle, Valerie said quickly.


    Thank you, Valerie, Konstans replied and mounted his horse. It was then that Konstantine came out into the courtyard.


    I see my son is gracing us with his presence as well, despite the early hour, Konstans said with a sardonic smile, which elicited a fewughs from his followers.


    I was trying to find out what was going on, Konstantine said sourly.


    What do you mean? asked Valerian.


    The city is all in a knot, Konstantine exined. They say the beacon at Wyrmpeak was litst night.


    Impossible, Konstans snorted out. That hasnt happened in


    Five hundred years, Valerie finished his sentence.


    Probably just ckboots and raiders as usual, Konstans said dismissively.


    That is not what people are saying, Konstantine countered.


    All anyone could know at this point is that the beacon was lit, Valerian interjected. They have no basis for assuming one or the other.


    Perhaps this is a poor time for me to leave Middanhal, Konstans said contemtively.


    Nonsense, Valerian said. It is important that everything is ready at Valcaster to receive the prince. If that is all we gained from the Adalthing, we will squeeze every copper coin from it.


    It is taking ce in Hthiod, Father, Konstantine argued. It will not affect us here.


    I suppose, Konstans said, though he did not sound convinced.


    Give my regards to Mother, Konstantine added, to which his father nodded. Then he signalled for the gate to be opened, and the twenty-one men rode out.


    Father, may I take one of the carriages to the Citadel? Valerie asked.


    This early?


    The daughter of Lord Marcaster would like to see me, and since they are leaving the city today


    Fine, the jarl agreed, waving his hand dismissively. Do you as wish. Do you require Konstantine to attend you?


    Uncle, Konstantine protested, you cannot shackle me to the chatter of two women.


    I think we will be fine, Valerie chuckled. Let my poor cousin spend his time as he wants.


    As you say, Valerian answered absently. He can go with Arion to the warehouses.


    Uncle, Konstantine objected again, but Valerian had already turned around and headed back inside. With a chagrined look, Konstantine left as well, leaving Valerie out in the courtyard while the stable hands prepared a carriage for her.


    ~~~~


    At the Citadel even this early, several supplicants crowded the antechamber to the lord marshals quarters. As he had done on other asions, the jarl of Theodstan walked past and knocked heavily on the door. I am sorry, but his lordship is not receiving visitors today, the servant answered and tried to close the door. Before he could, Theodoric ced one boot in between the door and the frame.


    Tell him the jarl of Theodstan is here, Theodoric insisted.


    No visitors, the servant repeated and tried awkwardly to close the door without offending the jarl.


    It will not take long. Tell the marshal I only wish to speak with him briefly.


    It is fine, Regin, the lord marshal said, appearing behind his servant. The jarl can walk with me to my meeting. If he really can be as brief as he ims, Reynold said, walking through the door and into the antechamber. Several of the hopeful audience seekers rose from their seats, but the lord marshal dismissed them with a gesture while Theodoric walked after him. You have about a hundred paces until we reach the council chamber, Reynold informed the jarl as they set a brisk pace.


    Is it true the beacon at Wyrmpeak was litst night? Theodoric asked.


    Yes. Is that all? You hardly needed to seek me out just to hear that, Reynold replied.


    Are you certain it signals what it should? Have the ounders crossed the Langstan in force?


    I am certain that the beacons of the wall were lit, and they are only lit to signal an invasion. Since it was the Wyrmpeak, it means that eastern Hthiod is where they have invaded. Now you know all that I do.


    What do you intend to do? asked Theodoric, forced to walk behind the lord marshal as the corridors became crowded with other people.


    That is what I have called a council to determine, Reynold exined brusquely.


    Do you intend to travel to Hthiod yourself? the jarl questioned tentatively.


    It is the duty of the lord marshal to do so, Reynold replied.


    That would be unwise, Theodoric hurried to say as they came close to the council chamber. The jarls are unhappy with how the Adalthing ended as are thendgraves. They were all given plenty of promises if they helped put their candidate into office. This is not the time for the lord protector to leave the realm.


    They have you to thank for ending up with nothing, Reynold retorted and turned to face Theodoric. Come now, Theodoric, an invasion from the Reach! The first in centuries. Finally a proper war against an enemy that we all despise equally. Not like the debacle in Heohlond.


    A debacle? That is how you would term it? Theodoric asked incredulously.


    As lord protector I can call it what I please. As lord marshal I can tell you to remain here, outside, Reynold told the jarl as they reached the council chamber. Do not look so scorned, Theodoric, the lord marshal continued. The jarls will grumble as you do even now, but that is all. Now you must excuse me. I have a war waiting for me. The lord marshal entered the chamber, and the jarl of Theodstan could hear somebody inform him that they were still waiting for Sir Roderic and Sir Athelstan to arrive. Then the door was closed, and Theodoric was left outside.


    ~~~~


    The Citadel had extensive, enclosed gardens within its domain. Some were restricted for the royal family, but the orchard and its adjacent gardens were open to all the noble inhabitants of the castle. This early in the morning there were few people except perhaps a servant or two using the gardens as a shortcut. Having arrived at the Citadel, Valerie now entered the flowered area. She walked around aimlessly, ncing at the blossoms and lush surroundings without much interest.


    Valerie, a voice quietly spoke.


    Isenwald, she said with relief upon hearing the speaker, turning around. She found him standing by one of the towers protruding from the inner wall, creating a corner. I was not certain you coulde, Valerie said, joining him in the shadows.


    My father  is too busy being furious that his title  is jarl and not lord protector, Isenwald said with a smile.


    Is it very terrible? Valerie asked concerned.


    My brother has excused himself to the Citadel, Isenwald said, his smile bing mirthless. My uncle  is trying his best to rein my father  in. He  is the  only man brave enough to face the  Ironfist.


    I am so sorry, Valerie said, her face aching with sympathy.


    It  is not so bad for me, Isenwald spoke light-heartedly. My father rarely notices me. How  is yours taking  it?


    He is more serene about the matter, Valerie told him. I think he is just as happy with his books and numbers.


    And you will have the prince as your guest, Isenwald said.


    Imagine how that will be, Valerie wondered. But Valcaster is very pretty in the summer, I am certain he will enjoy it. I wish you could see it too, she added longingly.


    Perhaps  one day, Isenwald suggested. When are you returning?


    One week, two weeks, Valerie said, shrugging at the uncertainty. Depends on how long my fathers affairs take to settle. Fortunately there are many of those.


    It will be harder to get letters to Valcaster, Isenwald said. That reminds me, this  is for you, he added, taking several folded sheets of parchment from his belt.


    And for you, Valerie said smiling, epting his letter while giving him a stack of paper in return. Something to read before we can meet again.


    I shall treasure each  of your words, Isenwald said tenderly, which caused slight blushing and made Valerie look away shyly.


    I think my father will find it odd if Ie here again tomorrow though, Valerie warned.


    The Temple? Isenwald offered. We can meet by the basin  inside theplex.


    I shall go to prayer tomorrow just after noon bell, Valerie said.


    I will count the moments  of every  hour until then, Isenwald promised.


    This caused another smile to emerge on Valeries lips. She hesitated and put her lips to use against Isenwalds cheek for a brief moment. The audacity of her action made her almost stumble away backwards. She hurried away with eyes lowered, leaving the heir of Isarn standing dumbfounded; as he followed the golden-haired maiden with his eyes, his hand traced the spot on his cheek.


    Isenwald waited until Valerie was long gone before he too stepped out of the shadows under the tower. He hastened away and did not see the sister of the jarl of Theodstan sitting in the shade of a pavilion close by. She on the other hand kept her eyes on the young man until he disappeared out of the gardens. Then, with a good-naturedugh, Theodwyn rose and returned to her chambers.


    ~~~~


    Athelstan had been spending the days since the Adalthing at the estate of the House of Isarn, and so he arrivedst at the war council summoned by the lord marshal. Thetter and the knight marshal, Sir Roderic, were naturally present as the appointed leaders of the Order. Sir William of Tothmor was the third person in the room. As with Athelstan, he did not have an official rank in the Order other than knight. However, he had won fame in the Orders war in Heohlond, and he was an obvious choice asmander in any uing campaigns, just as was the case for Athelstan. In fact, all men in the room apart from the lord marshal had gained their reputation as warriors and captains during the hignd rebellion.


    Sir Athelstan, wee, the lord marshal said gruffly and pointed towards a seat. The council chamber was in fact just a small, oval room with a round table in the middle and chairs around. Directly onto the table was painted a map. It was otherwisepletely austere and had only one advantage to it; there were no windows and only very thick walls surrounding it, which made eavesdropping very difficult.


    Forgive myteness, the knight began to say, but his superior dismissed him with a wave.


    Never mind, let us begin. The beacon at Wyrmpeak was litst night, Reynold said, looking expectantly at the knight marshal, who had the general responsibility for the Order inside the realm of Adalrik.


    Indeed. A bird arrived from the beacon keeper, confirming this is not a mistake. Sometime during the night, the beacon further east was lit, Roderic exined.


    And since it was Wyrmpeak, we know it is eastern Hthiod that sent the warning, William said quickly with a tone of voice that indicated he desired things sped up.


    Yes, yes, as I was about to say, Roderic spoke, slightly irritated. We must assume at least some of the garrisons at the Langstan have fallen. If they are truly arriving in force, it seems likely that Tothmor would be their target.


    Any cities in southern Hthiod that might attract them? asked Reynold.


    None that offer even half of what Tothmor does, William said, who himself hailed from the capital of Hthiod. Not even Lakon.


    Are we certain this is an actual invasion and not merely arger raiding force mistaken for more than it is? asked Athelstan.


    In response, William rose slightly to lean forward and point at the map. Normally raiders cross in the north through the mountains where they might circumvent the Langstan entirely, or they attempt to cross the Langstan in secrecy, unnoticed. If they have taken the wall and in the garrisons, it speaks of greater ns than merely killing livestock and stealing farmers produce.


    Howrge is the garrison in Tothmor? asked the lord marshal.


    If I recall correctly, my lord, a score of knights. A few thousand footmen, about half that in archers.


    If this truly is an invasion, the knight marshal interjected, we have to conscript the local nobility and have them raise their levies. We have the right to do so in such a situation as this.


    And unlike Heohlond, we do not have to doubt their loyalty, the lord marshal remarked with a mutter, which none of the other men in the roommented upon.


    How many men from Hthiod might we rely upon with such a conscription? Athelstan asked, moving the conversation along.


    A few hundred riders, William guessed. We will probably double our number of footmen and archers. Triple the number of archers even if we not only raise the levies, but we also recruit among the farmers.


    We will, Reynold nodded. The more longbowmen we have, the better. Their arrows should do well against the ckboots leather armour. What forces do we have avable in Adalrik before we mobilise any?


    About half a thousand knights in Middanhal alone. Some three thousand footmen and attached archers if we include the city guard, answered Roderic.


    Do you intend to muster in Adalrik? asked Athelstan.


    I think it will be necessary, Reynold contemted, leaning forward and letting his eyes nce over the map. We cannot withdraw forces from Heohlond, and Vidrevi has beencklustre in its contributions to the Order. When this campaign is over, I will have to go there myself and speak with the marshal, Reynold said brusquely.


    Ealond can contribute much, though, Roderic said. Both soldiers as well as supplies. Korndale may not have much, but it can always send supplies as well.


    Have letters written, Reynold nodded. Let the marshals of Korndale and Ealond know they are to send what they have avable to Hthiod.


    I will, my lord, Roderic promised. Perhaps we do not need to perform additional mobilisation, however. We do not know the numbers we face. It is quite possible our standing forces, once all gathered in Hthiod, will be adequate. Beginning a mobilisation in Adalrik that might turn out unnecessary is very expensive.


    Always the damn coin, Reynold snorted. Very well. I will depart with the vanguard and send back word if conscription is necessary.


    You intend to lead the campaign personally? Athelstan asked cautiously.


    That is why we have the knight marshal, Reynold said brusquely, so the Orders affairs are tended to in Adalrik while I am gone from the realm.


    Of course, my lord, Athelstan said quickly, I am well aware that the Orders campaigns in the past have often been personally led by the lord marshal. I merely thought with your appointment as lord protector


    That is why Sir Roderic is also dragonlord, Reynold dismissed Athelstans concerns.


    As you say, my lord, Athelstan muttered.


    Very well then. I will depart tomorrow, taking the five hundred knights with me as vanguard, and raise the levies in Hthiod. Sir William, you will apany me as my first lieutenant. You know thend and the people.


    As you say, my lord, the young knight said, bowing his head in acquiescence.


    Sir Roderic, you prepare the rest of the army and supply train for a proper campaign.


    My lord, Roderic replied, bowing his head as well.


    The infantry will follow under your leadership once prepared, Sir Athelstan.


    My lord, Athelstan said, obeying as the others. And my first lieutenant?


    Take Sir Richard of Alwood. Themon soldiers will enjoy that, being led by a champion.


    Very well, my lord. May I have a few knights at my disposal? My nephew, for instance.


    A few knights more or less is of little consequence, Reynold said with a disinterested tone. Whomever you wish. The four knights rose with the war council concluded, each leaving to make his own preparations.


    ~~~~


    Athelstan moved through the Citadel and knocked on the quarters belonging to the Arnling siblings. Brand himself opened the door and let the knight inside. A pleasure, my lord, Brand said as they took seats. What brings you by?


    Your sister is not here?


    At the Temple with the sister of Jarl Theodoric. Did youe to see her?


    Not at all, Athelstan shook his head. I only have some news for you, and it is better this way. You can tell her yourself once I am gone.


    This made Brand lean forward. Should I expect fair or poor tidings?


    Depends on your own thoughts, Athelstan responded. You know about the beacon being lit, I assume?


    Whole city knows, Brand shrugged. Even if half the city did not know yesterday there was a beacon on Wyrmpeak.


    The Order is being mustered, Athelstan said.


    I thought as much, Brand imed. We are sent to Hthiod?


    Athelstan nodded. We are, though not straight away. The lord marshal will take the knights avable and ride ahead of the army. I am to lead the remainder once supplies and provisions are in order.


    When do you expect us to leave?


    Depends on what news reach us from Hthiod. If our standing forces are sufficient, we will leave in some days. If we are to muster additional forces and bring our full strength, it may be weeks. Athelstan hesitated before he continued. I am afraid that this means we must dy your knighting ceremony.


    Because we will be on the road to Hthiod before I am twenty-one, Brand nodded in understanding.


    If it is a short campaign, we may be back in Middanhal before years end. If not, we will find a shrine in Hthiod, probably Tothmor, and see it done, Athelstan promised Brand.


    It is no matter, Brand said, raising his hands. I am not concerned with the trappings, only to step fully into the Order.


    You will before the year is over, Athelstan reiterated.


    And I will get a chance to earn my spurs as well on the field, Brand added.


    That as well, though do not be too hasty, Athelstan cautioned him. Young and eager men perish easily in battle.


    I thought those were the ts of a knight, Brand argued. In war a knight is fearless, he quoted from the Knights Codex.


    True, Athelstan said with hesitation, but there is more than that to being a knight. The Codex does not detail all a knight needs to know. Being a soldier for the Order can be plicated.


    As you say, Brand said without sounding convinced.


    I will send for you when we are to depart, whenever that may be. I merely wanted to break the news to you in person, Athelstan said, standing up.


    I thank you for it, Brand replied, bidding the knight farewell.


    Not long after, Arndis returned and found her brother deep in thought in the parlour of their quarters. Brand? she said to gain his attention.


    Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere, he said, finally looking up at her.


    So I can tell, Arndis replied, taking a seat next to him. What concerns weigh on you? Did the moneylenders seek you out again?


    No, no, Brand said, shaking his head. Something else entirely. The Order is being sent on campaign into Hthiod.


    Ah, Arndis merely said. When her brother did not continue, she did herself. The rumours of war are true, I take it.


    So it would seem. I am to follow Sir Athelstan, though he does not know when. A few days, a few weeks, somewhere in between.


    I will be sad to see you leave.


    And I will be sad to leave you alone, though I have no choice.


    Of course, Arndis nodded, I am aware. I have friends here at court, I shall not be alone.


    That is well. At least those coin grubbers will not chase after me all the way to Hthiod, Brand said, which made his sister chuckle half-heartedly.


    Do take care, Arndis imprinted on him.


    Do not worry, he said to soothe her. I will be by Sir Athelstans side, and he will takemand. I will have the safest position in the army.


    I hope that is true, Arndis said, biting her lip.


    Let me tell you something to ease your mind, Brand said softly. Have you heard of the battle of Cairn Donn?


    I have heard of it, yes, Arndis nodded. But little more than the name.


    Athelstan told me of it at times. No better source to hear the story from, Brand smiled. The Order army is shattered, a few thousand men fleeing towards Cairn Donn. Middle of winter in the hignds, freezing and starving. Hounded by rebel hignders and the knowledge that if they do not reach Cairn Donn in time, the city is defenceless and will fall.


    What happened? Arndis asked, already captivated.


    The lord marshal is dead as is many of the other senior knights. Athelstan takes charge along with the few remaining knights such as Sir Theobald, the captain of the Citadel, or Sir Richard and Sir William, both solstice champions and both journeying with us to Hthiod, Brand pointed out. For one of the nks, Athelstan gives the impression it is weakly defended. It is inside a gorge, a bottleneck.


    On the table nearby stood a chessboard with its pieces. Brand grabbed it and arrayed the pawns to simte the battlefield. The hignders storm against it to crush the ranks of the Orders, he narrated. They are pressed together, unable to use their numbers. All the remaining knights, excelling in closebat, defend the gorge and repel the attackers. Meanwhile, the Order infantry push forward unexpectedly on the other side to rout the enemy. Brand looked up at his sister. What should have been a certain defeat, Athelstan and these men turned into a resounding victory. So you see, there is no need to be concerned, he smiled.


    If you say so, Arndis conceded and stood up. Come, we should both go to the Temple.


    You just came from there, Brand said questioningly.


    Yes, but it seems there is more I should pray for. We both should, she said to her brother and entered her chamber, choosing a small piece of jewellery she might give as offering at the Temple in return for her brothers safety.


    ~~~~


    As the evening bell tolled, Kate entered the library tower. Quill was carefully adding pen strokes to an open volume, so she did not disturb him. She merely fetched <em>Song of Sigvard</em> and took a seat at one of the desks; her attention seemed as much caught by the nk wall in front of her as by the book, however.


    Time passed in silence until Quill finally spoke. Something on your mind? he asked without looking up.


    No, master, Kate said absentmindedly.


    I merely ask because I have not heard you turn the page for a while now.


    Oh. I guess my thoughts are a little scattered. There are all these rumours flying around the castle.


    Rumours of invasion and war. Yes, they have reached my ears even all the way up here.


    Are they true?


    You think I have some form of knowledge or prescience? Do I look like a norn to you, Quill said with a touch of dryughter.


    You just seem to know so much and about everything, Kate pointed out, giving up on her book and turning her attention to the scribe.


    There are limits, Quill said, but he put down his feather pen and looked at Kate instead. What is it you wish to know exactly?


    Is there really going to be war?


    It would seem so. But you probably really mean to ask, how will it matter for you if there is war?


    I suppose, Kate admitted, looking away.


    I think it will matter little for you. Few in this city will feel it. I doubt the war could ever reach so far from Hthiod it would spill into Adalrik. Maybe salt will be harder toe by or be more expensive.


    Whys that?


    Well, nearly all the salt in this cityes from Hthiod, so it may be scarcer. But those who will truly feel this war are the soldiers being sent away and the knights. And those to whom their bonds bind them. Their wives and children, who might be separated from their husbands and fathers for years toe.


    Years?


    Quill nodded. If it draws out. Though maybe it will be over in time for winter solstice. Right now, we do not know.


    Im d I dont know anybody whos going, Kate said.


    Then I suggest you put these thoughts out of your head and return to your book, Quill said sternly, and she promptly obeyed.


    ~~~~


    Sir William of Tothmor, champion of the sword, hesitated slightly before he knocked on the door in one of the southern wings of the Citadel. This was where the low nobility living at court resided in single chambers with little luxury. The door was opened by a handmaiden. It is Sir William, mdy, the servant announced to the young woman in the room.


    Sir William, the woman said, rising to meet him.


    Lady Eleanor, he said, bowing his head slightly. Being in his early thirties, he was about ten years older than the woman. She was ordinary in most respects with brown hair covered by a veil. She had put the veil down upon hearing the knock, but now she removed it again to reveal her face. It also showed her defining feature; while the right side of her face was unmarred, her left side was covered in faded scars and burns. I apologise I was not present tonight to escort you to the Temple. I did not forget it was Rilday today, William began by saying.


    Oh, going alone did not hurt me, Eleanor said lightly, sitting down and picking up her needlework. Besides, there is Rilday next week and the week afterwards.


    That is why I wished to speak to you. Why I was absent this eve. Anne, he said directed to the handmaiden, let me speak privately with yourdy.


    Anne bowed and retreated into the small alcove that was her bedchamber, pulling a curtain between which served as a door. Eleanor on the other hand let go of her needle and looked up, fixing her eyes on William. You are leaving for war.


    Yes, William admitted. Tomorrow with the vanguard.


    So soon, she said with a slight quiver in her voice.


    I fear so. We are going to Hthiod, so the lord marshal desired my presence as his first lieutenant.


    An honour for you, Eleanor remarked.


    It is my duty, and I am d to serve, William said earnestly.


    I have no doubt you are, Eleanor said, looking away.


    You will notck anything in my absence, I hope?


    Of course not, Eleanor said dismissively. Your prize money is still untouched. With my friends at court, I shall hardly know you are gone.


    That is good to hear, William said, sounding relieved.


    Really, Sir William, you need not worry. I ceased being your ward two years ago.


    I am aware, of course, the knight said. I merely feel responsible since it was I who brought you here from Tothmor.


    You are most kind, Eleanor said with a vague smile, but you have long since been absolved of your responsibilities for me. In fact you should not even spend your prize money on me.


    I suppose I do not have to, William said hesitantly. But until you are married and have a husband to tend to such needs, I am d to do so.


    A husband. Yes, Eleanor said quietly. I thank you for telling me, Sir William. I will not keep you longer. I am certain you have many preparations to make.


    I have, William said, bowing his head in farewell. Pray for me and our battles on next Rilday, he said as he turned to leave.


    Always, Eleanor said barely audible, watching the knight leave. She hurried to dry her eyes of any treacherous moisture before her handmaiden stepped back out of the alcove.


    ~~~~


    Close to nightfall and thest evening bell being rung, Nichs from Tothmor walked with his bow staff and bag of belongings through Lowtown. He had spent the days following the solstice being regaled as champion of the bow in various parts of the city, but still he returned each evening to the humble tavern where he had first resided. Despite the tavern keepers willingness to find better amodations for him, the archer had turned down such offers and was still sleeping in the stable.


    Master Nichs! shouted Gilbert, the host, as the man from Hthiod entered the tavern. Fancy a drink? Theres just time, he tempted.


    Thank you, Master Gilbert, but I will be returning home tomorrow.


    Are you sure you want that? They say bad things areing to your homnd.


    All the more reason I return. I best get what sleep I can, Nichs said, moving on.


    As you wish, the barkeep said, bidding him good night.


    Nichs walked through themon room, out into the yard, and into the stable. The animals took little note of his presence, and he sat down in the haystack that served as his bed. Putting the bow staff away, he opened his bag and went through the things he had purchased at the market at the Temple square. Food for the journey home, a warmer cap for when colder days arrive, and certain oils he would be mixing to create the concoction he used to treat his bow staff. Hearing footsteps, he spoke without looking up. Really, Master Gilbert, I am ttered, but I cant


    He was interrupted by a coarse voice. You have something of mine. As Nichs looked up, he barely had time to see the shape of a man in front of him. Then he was struck on the side of his head by a staff, knocking him to the ground. As his eyes closed, sounds reached him of somebody rummaging through his things. This as well, the voice said, digging into Nichs pockets and pulling out the ivory figurine he had won at the solstice games. Nichs stretched out his hand feebly, trying to prevent the theft, but the mugger simply stepped down on his hand. A kick to the head followed, which made Nichs consciousness lose its grasp on the surrounding world.


    When he woke again, Nichs was positioned morefortably in the hay rather than on the stable floor. The maid serving in the tavern was cradling his head, pressing a wet rag against his forehead. Master Nichs, came the concerned voice of the tavern keeper. Are you well?


    My head is pounding like an anvil, Nichs groaned.


    I am so sorry, Gilbert said, wringing his hands. None of us saw any enter! The tavern has just been so busy, and I cant keep eye on the doors all the time, and


    Please, I believe you, Nichs said with difficulty, raising his hand. Just be quiet.


    Right, sorry, Gilbert said with a lowered voice; then he left the stable while muttering the woes of ordinary folk being beset by banditry.


    Youve got a nasty bump, said the girl tending to his head.


    They took my silver, Nichsined, stirring. And my carving, my prize.


    Im so sorry, the maid said sympathetically while gently keeping him from getting up. But right now you should close your eyes. I told the cook to make some willow bark tea, and shell be here with it any moment.


    Thanks, Nichs mumbled, leaning back. Guess Im not leaving here anyway. I cante home coinless.


    Well, at least youll be staying a little while longer, the girl said with a smile that Nichs caught even with closed eyes.


    Whats your name? he asked.


    Ellen, good master, she answered, caressing his head to soothe his pain.


    Im Nichs from Tothmor.


    Yes, she said, still smiling, everybody here knows that.

 Chapter 11: Men May Ride

    Chapter 11: Men May Ride


    Men May Ride


    Middanhal


    The first bell of the day had barely rung to announce sunrise when a span of horses were harnessed to a carriage in the southern courtyard of the Citadel. Beyond that, forty horses were also saddled and their riders congregating. Each rider was armed and armoured, wearing a surcoat with a golden dragon that proimed them as the kingthanes. They were considered the best warriors in thend, some of noble and some ofmon birth, and rivalled only by the fearsome Temr knights. They had sworn oaths to give their lives for the House of Adal, the descendants of Sigvard who ruled all of Adalmearc. Which currently meant an eleven-year-old boy, yawning as he stepped outside. Its so early, Berimund, Sigmund said to the captain of the thanes. Did it have to be at sunrise?


    Fewer people on the street, my prince, Berimund said. Better this way.


    Is that why we will not be sailing from Coldharbour? the boy asked.


    Exactly, my prince. People expect us to sail to Valcaster, and so we will take the unexpected route overnd.


    Baldric thought it was because the great captain Berimund, while having the strength of a bear, has the courage of a cat where water is concerned. The small, hunchbacked jester came practically skipping out of the castle.


    You be quiet, Berimund growled.


    As the mighty thane says, Baldric replied with a mock bow. Though Baldricments he will not see the river. He has exhausted his supply of rotten fish. The jester hurried inside the carriage before the captain could aim a kick in his direction.


    I would dly stand in the path of an arrow for you, my prince, Berimund began toin, but no kingthane has ever been subjected to such undignified barbs as that ursed jester throws at me.


    You are too easy a mark, Sigmund reproached Berimund. If you do not let yourself seem affected, Baldric will tire of you.


    It would be easier to simply let me ce the edge of my axe between his head and his shoulders.


    Berimund! Sigmund scolded, which made the huge man sigh dramatically, which in turn made the princeugh. I am d you areing with me to Valcaster, Berimund. You and Baldric.


    I would never dream of parting from you, my prince.


    Because you keep me safe, right?


    Because I nt my axe between the shoulders and head of any man who would dare cast a shadow on your path, Berimund said with a wry smile, which made the prince grin.


    They were interrupted by thedy Isabel, the princes mother, who came out to bid her son goodbye. Now Sigmund, she said, cing her hands on his shoulders, conduct yourself as it befits the heir to the realms.


    Yes, Mother, the prince said.


    Do not let Baldric in any way offend Jarl Valerian, is that understood?


    Yes, Mother.


    Learn what you can from them. They are important people, and one day you will deal with them when you rule thesends.


    Yes, Mother.


    Having finished her admonitions, Isabel pulled her son close for an embrace. Her otherwise grim face became lit with concern. I wish you would not have to leave, she said. I am not certain I can forgive this jarl for taking you away from me.


    I will be fine, Mother, Sigmund said, pulling out of his mothers embrace. At least I will get to see somece new.


    Yes, I suppose, Isabel said unconvinced. She watched her son climb into the carriage and then look out, waving at her. Around them, two scores of kingthanes mounted their horses, and Berimund moved to the front as the guards opened the castle gates. Momentster, thepany rode out.


    ~~~~


    One of the south-eastern districts of Middanhal, though still lying north of the river and the paupers Lowtown, was dominated by the merchants and their warehouses, specifically those trading under the seal of Vale. The warehouse workers were busy each day even though all the caravans with goods from the deep South had arrived in Middanhal for the year. The next step was distribution around the city and sending goods onwards to northern and eastern Adalmearc. Arion as the jarls right-hand man was overseeing the process with his army of clerks.


    Pardon me, master chambein, one of the guards said as he approached Arion. We found this vagrant hanging about, asking for you, the guard said, pointing towards the entrance of the warehouse. Two other guards stood on either side of Nichs, holding his bag in one hand and bow staff in the other.


    You can let him in, Arion said, and the guard gestured for the others to allow Nichs entry. The archer stumbled forward a bit and crossed the warehouse floor to reach Arion, who was watching bags of spice being distributed.


    Sorry for the intrusion, good master. Do you remember me?


    The archer from solstice, Arion said, I recall.


    You offered me a position as one of Lord Vales archers.


    I recall that also.


    I would like to ept and put my bow at his disposal.


    How generous of you, Arion said smiling. There is one thing you have forgotten to ask, however.


    What might that be? Nichs asked with a nervous touch to his voice.


    If such an offer still stands, clearly, Arion said like a tutor exining to a child.


    Does his lordships offer still stand? Nichs asked, to which Arionughed.


    You wish to know if you can refuse the most powerful man in the kingdom and whether he would sit around waiting for you to change your mind?


    I didnt think it like that, Nichs said hesitantly.


    Obviously you did not, Arion said with a hint of contempt. Now be gone. Sell your services elsewhere, the chambein said and turned around, already engrossed in his work again. Nichs renewed his grip on his belongings and turned around as well to leave.


    ~~~~


    While the princespany had departed from the southern courtyard, leaving it mostly empty, the northern courtyard of the Citadel was bustling with activity. The lord marshal was riding out with five hundred knights, nearly all of whom were gathering in that location. Each knight had either a squire or a sergeant as his personal attendant to care for his horse, help him in and out of his armour, and to fight by his side. Add to that, the wealthier of the knights were bringing several horses to ensure they always had a fresh mount. In summation, one could not throw a stone without hitting a horse somewhere. The Orders stables at the Citadel had been emptied, which had not been enough, however. More horses had been brought from the fields north of the city where there was much farnd reserved for rearing the beasts for the Order.


    Near the front of the column were the lord marshal and his second-inmand, Sir William of Tothmor. A slender woman managed to weave her way through the throng of horses and men to reach the knight before he mounted his steed. Lady Eleanor, he said, inclining his head. She wore a dark veil as one might do when in mourning, though here it served to hide the scars on her face.


    I thought I should give you this, she said, extending her hand that held a flower. Its blue petals were shaped in a peculiar fashion, which gave it its name.


    A bluebell, William said, smiling. Where did you find one this far north?


    One of the gardeners grows it here, Eleanor told him. Someone must have brought seeds with them upon leaving Hthiod.


    I thank you for it, William said earnestly and carefully tucked it into his bracer.


    Be safe, she said, bidding him farewell.


    Upon the parapets overlooking the courtyard stood Quill and Brand, gazing down upon the knights, squires, and sergeants. Quite a sight, Quill remarked.


    They seem invincible, Brand said, even if this is only a small part of the army.


    How can it be that you and Sir Athelstan are not among their numbers? asked Quill.


    Sir Athelstan will takemand of the footmen. We will followter once the muster has beenpleted, Brand exined.


    I see. A sensible choice. He is renowned as a great captain.


    Indeed. I learned much from him when we were abroad, although he was reluctant to speak of the campaign that won him his fame.


    Losses were heavy in Heohlond on all sides. Must be heavy memories, Quill said as they watched the exchange between William and Eleanor.


    There is a woman making her goodbyes to Sir William, Brand said, narrowing his eyes in concentration. I thought he had simply arrived in Middanhal for the solstice tournament, on his own.


    No, he arrived in the city years ago, though I believe he does leave from time to time. He was in Vidrevi not long ago. He originally left Hthiod to serve the Order here, Quill borated. That is how he was part of the campaign in the hignds. The woman is Lady Eleanor, his ward.


    His ward?


    I do not know the story, Quill admitted. He brought her with him when she was still a girl. She is of age now, though she keeps to herself from what I understand.


    She gave him a parting gift, I think.


    A bluebell, I would venture to guess, Quill said.


    Not a guess plucked from open air, I take it.


    It is a custom from Hthiod, Quill exined. Bluebells grow everywhere on their heaths, I am told. When somebody is leaving for a journey, a family member finds a cluster of bluebells and picks one for the traveller to bring with him or her. Afterwards, the family watches the remaining flowers in the cluster. If they keep their blue colour, it is a sign that the departed one is safe. But should the petals grow to a dark, purple colour, it is a sign that the traveller has met a terrible fate.


    Very useful, Brand said dryly, if one believes what a flower would tell you.


    I find it to be a charming tradition, Quill argued. We have something simr in Alczar. The girls of my home city will knot leather strings together in an intricate pattern for their dear ones to bring with them. It is a way to remember somebody far away or to be remembered, Quill said.


    The old scribes eyes were still watching the spectacle below, so he did not observe Brands hand slipping under the opening of his tunic, caressing a leather string tied around his neck. Is that so, Brand muttered, barely audible. By the way, Brand added in a louder voice, my sister may be interested in visiting your library with your permission. Might I introduce her to you before I have to depart?


    Of course, Quill nodded. She will be most wee.


    I thank you. Ah, they are leaving now, Brand pointed out. Down in the courtyard, thest men mounted their horses, and the lord marshal signalled for thepany to move out. Forward they rode, transforming into long rows of riders riding steadily through the gate of the Citadel.


    Men may ride, but the raven will fly, Brand said contemtively.


    I always found that an odd saying, Quill mentioned.


    It seems apt on this asion, Brand replied. Seeing so many men ride out. I wonder how many the raven wille for before it is over. Quill gave no answer to this.


    ~~~~


    Thest time that Athelstan found himself in the Hall of Records, it had been to report his return from Alczar. The scribes were still there, busy flitting about; one clerk was moving stacks of blocks out of Middanhal, including one gilded round the edges, representing the lord marshal. Only a few markers remained, including such names as Athelstan, Roderic, Eumund, Richard, and their respective squires and sergeants.


    Athelstan gazed over the other parts of the map. In the north, several strong contingents maintained the peace in Heohlond, whereas Vidrevi was rathercking in Order presence. Numerous regiments were scattered across the isles of Thusund, but there were more than one empty wooden fortress or tower in that part of Adalmearc. Ealond and Korndale had some numbers, concentrated in the south where they manned the Langstan. Lastly Hthiod, where Athelstans gaze came to rest. It was a mostly barrennd, especially in the east, which was often subjected to raids by the ounders. Only the most hardy or desperate people dwelt there.


    In the centre of the kingdomy its capital, Tothmor; a few smaller castlesy around the countryside as well, and of course, there were the garrisons at the wall. The scribes were still waiting for information before they could bring that part of the map up to date, but everyone knew that several of those garrisons would be extinguished. If the ounders had arrived in force, it would not have been difficult for them to sweep up and down the wall. Athelstans ruminations were interrupted by the arrival of his nephew.


    You sent for me, Eumund said.


    I did, his uncle replied curtly.


    Any reason you saw fit to drag me here?


    I may be your uncle, Eumund, but as of yesterday I am yourmander, Athelstan said sharply, turning to look at his nephew. Imand, you obey without question.


    Of course, I apologise, Eumund mumbled and looked down.


    When I gave you your orders yesterday, you seemed dismayed to stay behind.


    The other knights will have lots of opportunities to fight before we even arrive. The war might be over by the time we reach Hthiod.


    Unlikely, Athelstan remarked. What do you see when you look at this map? the older knight asked as he gestured towards the map on the floor before them.


    I see Adalmearc and the Orders troops, Eumund said, his voice disinterested.


    What does it tell you? Athelstan asked, whose voice in turn grew sharp again.


    That there has been war in Heohlond, that there is war in Hthiod.


    It tells us that the Order is stretched thin, Athelstan pointed out. The noblemen will have to raise their levies, probably, but that will not avail anything in the long run once this war is over. We will still need soldiers to maintain the peace.


    If the ounders are driven out, that should be easy enough.


    Not just in Hthiod, Athelstan retorted. Heohlond and Vidrevi are barely contributing, and the king of Thusund is growing old with a slipping grasp on power. Which spells trouble.


    Ealond and Korndale are at peace, Eumund argued. Along with Adalrik, they are the hearnds. While I hate giving the garlic eaters credit, at least they seem too cid to rebel.


    The southerners, whom you so contemptuously refer to, are not the leaders of the Order nor responsible for the realms.


    The lord marshal is a  southerner, Eumund said, not repeating the reference to southern food habits.


    While he may be a good man, such responsibilities call for great men, Athelstan replied. I summoned you to this room to remind you that you are not a soldier, you are a leader. You do not enter the battlefield looking for glory but for victory.


    I thought them the same, Eumund countered.


    Only in the mind of the vain, Athelstan quickly shot back. Let other knightspete in tournaments or treat war as y. We have a more important charge.


    And have you been teaching such lessons to your squire as well? Eumund said suddenly.


    Brand is a quick study, Athelstan said. He has both the blood and the mind to be a great captain.


    It would seem he agrees. Ever since his return, he has been making postures, unting his blue colours everywhere.


    Why this gap between you? Did he not pull you from the river as boys?


    He did, Eumund said, and then treated it as nothing. As if saving my life was of little consequence, no more than petting his dog.


    I find that hard to believe. For seven years he has shown me nothing but respect, Athelstan imed. He is like my own blood to me.


    But he is not your blood, Eumund reminded his uncle. There ismonborn, and there is nobleborn. But Adalbrand wastes no opportunity reminding others that he is dragonborn and that he stands better than the rest of us.


    There may have been squabbles between you when you were pages at the Citadel, Athelstan said, but you are both men, and you will be knights together. Equals in the eyes of the Order.


    You think he will ever see me as his equal? Eumund snorted. I am the son of a jarl! Because coincidence made his ancestor a king, he is somehow better than me? My father is among the most important men of the realm, whereas his was a pauper knight.


    And it is not coincidence that made your father wealthy and influential unlike his? argued Athelstan. Do not be so quick to judge a man born to so little.


    He may be your squire, Uncle, Eumund said, but he is not your kinsman, nor will he ever consider you such. One day, you will see I am right. With those words, the younger knight left.


    ~~~~


    Several days passed after the departure of the prince to Valcaster and the knights of the Order to Hthiod. The many celebrants of the solstice were also returning to their viges and homesteads, and the city turned quieter. Normal life returned, and the only indications that anything was out of the ordinary were the regiments of Order soldiers asionally marching down the Arnsweg and through the southern gate, carting supplies with them. They were gathering at an encampment at Lake Myr several days south of Middanhal, meeting up with troops and provisions arriving from Ealond. On asion regiments arrived from the north, passing through, but the city was slowly being emptied of soldiers.


    Then it happened that a soldier came riding from the south. Wearing the surcoat of the Order meant that he was not stopped at the gate but simply rode straight through and up the Arnsweg. He crossed the bridge, passed through the Temple square, and continued to the Citadel. He followed the street around the castle to enter the northern courtyard and leapt down from his horse, leaving somebody else to take care of the beast. The rider ran inside and jumped up the steps until he reached the floor housing the office of the knight marshal.


    The rider did not bother to knock but simply pushed the door open. Inside, the marshal raised an eyebrow at this breach of custom, yet he did not speak. He merely epted the letter that the rider extended to him. Roderic unfurled the scroll and nced over it. You havee from the lord marshals camp? he asked after reading it.


    Yes, milord, said the soldier, still catching his breath. Messengers from Hthiod reached us just by the border. Four days ago. He gave me this message to bring back at once.


    You have done well, the knight marshal said and hurried past the soldier out of his study. He walked through the corridors until he reached the quarters belonging to the Master of the Citadel. Finding it empty, he headed towards the Hall of Records. Said master was an old, wizened man, whose eyes were nearly closed with age. He managed to open them wide, however, as the marshal of Adalrik marched over and stuck the missive in his hands. We finally received more tangible information than merely beacons being lit, Roderic told the old man.


    This came from Sir Reynold? Is this urate?


    We must assume so, said the marshal.


    But these numbers  even if you empty Adalrik, it will not be enough.


    Clearly, Roderic said a touch impatiently. We must mobilise every man we can, footmen and archers, and any remaining knights. We need them all.


    The very same day, the town criers entered the city with the news. The Order was recruiting able-bodied men, regardless of experience, for the war in Hthiod. Tens of thousands of ounders were marching on Tothmor, and every man would be needed for the fight.

 Chapter 12: But the Raven Will Fly

    Chapter 12: But the Raven Will Fly


    But the Raven Will Fly


    Roads of Southern Adalrik


    While the lord marshal was moving towards Hthiod, the prince Sigmund was sitting in his carriage with Baldric, the court jester. They were on the roads leading to Valcaster, though they had not yet entered the province of Vale. They were travelling on the Kingsroad, part of thergework of roads that connected the major cities of Adalmearc and was named thus because its principal purpose was to allow the swift marching of the high kings armies.


    The Kingsroad between Coldharbour and Valcaster was not particrly well kept, however, since most traffic took ce on the river between those cities; on the other hand, this meant that the princes retinue had easy progress. While the carriage had no obvious markings showing that the heir to the realms was seated inside, the forty kingthanes in their surcoats apanying it was evidence enough of its importance. Other travellers were swift to stand aside and let thepany pass; whenever they reached roadhouses for the night, they upied whichever rooms they desired.


    Thendscape surrounding them was pleasing to the eye. While northern Adalrik mostly had pastures for grazing sheep, cattle, and horses, southern Adalrik had many fields of grain that were growing gold in colour. The Kingsroad also ventured into the asional forest, which served as hunting grounds for whichever nobleman presided over the area. While the woods might serve as hideouts for banditry and men exiled from civilised society, it was rarely the Kingsroad they preyed upon; especially between Coldharbour and Valcaster, considering only soldiers travelled this route, whereas the merchants moved by ship on the river.


    The prince and his jester were thus talking without concerns, asionally hanging out of the windows on the carriage until a thane would ride up and implore the prince to keep inside. How long until we arrive, Baldric? asked Sigmund impatiently.


    The jester popped his head out of the window. We shall arrive at a cluster of trees momentarily, my prince, the jester said gravely.


    You know what I mean, the prince said, giving hispanion a friendly p on the shoulder.


    Ah, but do you mean what Baldric knows?


    That does not even make sense.


    Truly, none have ever used Baldric of making sense.


    Tell me something else then. Tell me about Jarl Valerian.


    Ah, the great jarl of the Vale, Baldric said and leaned forward to whisper in a manner that mimicked conspirators. Obeyed by merchants everywhere, feared bypetitors far and wide, scourge of clerks who miscalcte, truly the most fearsome bookkeeper in thend!


    This recitation of titles made Sigmund giggle. Is that really true?


    While Baldric wishes he couldy im to this jest, it was not his wit that came up with that title. The jarl was known as the Bookkeeper long before Baldrics hunched back graced the dancefloors of Middanhal.


    He does not sound like much fun, Sigmund said.


    Doubtful, tiny potentate, doubtful. Baldric imagines he sleeps on his hoard of gold and jewels like the dragons in poorly conceived stories.


    I adore stories about dragons, Sigmund objected.


    Because you will be a dragon one day, my diminutive prince, the jester said. Though Baldric has never understood how putting a crown on your head turns a prince into a dragon.


    You are being silly, Sigmund scolded him. It is just a title, a symbol. Because the crown is shaped like a war helmet with a dragon nesting upon it, and the throne in the Citadel is shaped like a dragon as well.


    Baldric does not like symbols, minor majesty, the jester proimed. Such liars, pretending to be something they are not.


    There was silence for a moment until Sigmund spoke again. Baldric, tell me about my father.


    And wherefrom does this sudden urgee to know of men long gone, oh smallest of sovereigns?


    Well, my father would be the Dragon of Adalrik now if all were right. Tell me about him.


    As you wish, littlest of lords, Baldric said while performing a kind of mock bow, which almost made him fall to the carriage floor as it shook on the road. Recovering himself, he cleared his throat. Your father was tall and strong, my midget monarch. When he spoke, men obeyed. They called him the Dragonheart, though Baldric never understood. How can the heart of such a great beast fit into a tiny man?


    Baldric, you are being silly again. You know it is a symbol to show he is strong and brave like a dragon.


    Symbols again, Baldric said sounding very disheartened. Such is talk for fools.


    But Baldric, argued the prince with a frown, you are a fool.


    Their conversation was interrupted as something struck against the carriage. Arrows! came the warning shout from the thanes outside.


    Drive! yelled Berimund to the driver of the carriage, who immediately afterwards was struck and fell dead to the ground. Most of the thanes converged around the carriage and dismounted, using their horses as cover or diving behind nearby trees. They were troubled by the now masterless horses, which began to rear and became skittish, moving the carriage forward in abrupt intervals. A few of the kingthanes rode away from the road in search of the enemy archers, but they were struck down by arrows as well. A terrible scream, the scream of an eleven-year-old boy, came from inside the wagon, and Berimund abandoned his cover behind a tree trunk.


    As the captain reached the carriage, the hail of arrows ceased. Berimund grabbed the door with one hand and tore it off its hinges. Inside he found a howling Baldric, and the big thane shot his hands inside. Pulling the prince out, the bearlike man cradled the boy in his hairy arms even as he sank to his knees, sobbing. An arrow protruded from a low angle under the princes throat, and blood had already soaked the chest of his doublet and dyed it even darker. Thest heir to the realms was dead.


    ~~~~


    The kingthanes spent the rest of the daybing the small forest and surrounding area while the captain and a few others remained by the carriage, guarding the body. It waste evening when some of them returned, reporting that they found something of interest. Berimund mounted his horse, and they swiftly rode through the woods and out into the open fields until at length they reached a burned down barn.


    Captain, saluted the couple of thanes who were already there.


    What have you found, Berimund asked, not returning their gesture.


    We found some pottery shards nearby, stinking ofmp oil, said one of the thanes. We think somebody set fire to the barn deliberately.


    And? the captain said impatiently.


    It was ric who saw it, a thane said, gesturing to another. Clearing his throat, ric motioned for the captain to follow inside what remained of the charred structure.


    There were numerous bodies inside, more than twenty. Most are burned to a crisp, ric exined as they walked across and crushed the sod under their boots, but the fire did not quite catch over here. The men are still dead, choked on the smoke probably, but their belongings are intact. The thanes walked over to one corner of the barn, less touched by the fire than the rest. Several bodiesy pressed against the corner, giving the impression of how they would have sought refuge in this part while the rest of the building burned.


    And? the captain repeated, still with no hint of patience.


    Their bows must have burned elsewhere, but there were arrows scattered about. And they all had gold coins in their hands or pockets. Gold, captain, not silver.


    These are the murderers, then, Berimund muttered, kneeling down by one of the corpses.


    So it would seem. If the others here had gold as well, it must have melted along with their bodies. But archers with gold coins, captain, the exnation seems obvious, ric said cautiously.


    The bastard behind all of this gathered his archers here for payment and burned the ce down to kill them. Make sure they couldnt talk, said the other thane.


    We also found this on one of them, ric said, retrieving an object from his pocket. It was a small ivory figurine, though ckened by soot, showing an archer pulling back his bow.


    Let me see that, Berimund demanded, standing up quickly. The thane threw it to him, and the captain held it up to examine it in the dwindling light.


    You should also see the coin, captain. Its not a gold crown, said ric.


    It doesnt have the dragon stamped on it, but some ship, the other thane added, giving the coin to Berimund, who gave it a closer look.


    You two, see if you can track anybody that left this ce. The rest of you, we are done here, Berimund said, beckoning the remaining thanes to return to the others.


    They gathered the bodies of the dead thanes in the carriage for transport, but not the prince. For him, Berimund unsped his cloak, and they used it as a bier to carry the in prince upon. They had removed the arrow, but they let the wound and blood remain visible; with a thick voice, Berimund dered that he wanted the whole realm to see what had been done to the prince. He and another thane grabbed the corners of the cloak and lifted up, and they began the march back to Middanhal.

 Chapter 13: Sigvards Blood

    Chapter 13: Sigvard''s Blood


    Sigvard''s Blood


    Middanhal


    The northern courtyard of the Citadel had its share of activity in the wake of the mustering. Carts with weapons, arrows, tents, and much more were being prepared for the next departure to the Order encampment at Lake Myr. Newly conscripted soldiers were being drilled, and there was a line of hopefuls in front of a desk manned by the servants of the Master of the Citadel.


    Next, the scribe called out, and Nichs stepped forward with bow staff in one hand, bag in the other.


    Im here to enlist, Nichs told the man.


    Let me guess, an archer, the clerk said dryly with a nce towards the staff in Nichs hand. Name?


    Nichs from Tothmor. Im well experienced, too, I won the solstice games in archery.


    Name does sound familiar, the pen scribbler said, dipping his quill in ink. Fine, Ill take your word for it. Pay is five silver and eight petties a day. Once the war is over, if you did well, you may be offered the seven-year enlistment for peacetime. Next march to the Order camp is tomorrow before the noon bell, dont miss it, the scribe rattled off his instructions. Youll be considered conscripted from tomorrow on when you join the march, but the first couple days of pay will be withheld to pay for your gear.


    I got my own bow, Nichs pointed out, raising the staff in his hand. I dont need you to pay for that.


    Not me paying for it, mate, the clerk said, eyeing the staff. Fine, Ill make one day less without pay.


    One day? Nichs protested. In Tothmor, a bow like this is worth ten times that at least.


    Still not me paying, said the unflinching man. Not up to me. Now move on, next!


    Nichs was pushed aside, and while he was contemting raising further objections, his and others attention was grabbed by a man that sprinted up to them. Have you heard? he said, gasping for breath. Heard the news yet?


    ~~~~


    The extensive gardens of the Citadel were popr amongst thedies of the court. Their chambers and quarters tended to acquire a certain dusty atmosphere, whereas the roses and flowers of the gardens gave a pleasant scent. Before noon, thedies could enjoy the warmth of the sun; after noon, the pavilions and trees provided ample shade. The sister of the jarl of Theodstan took especial delight in this area,ing from a region that was stony and with few wild-growing flowers.


    Mydy, Arndis said, bowing before Theodwyn, who gestured for the girl to take a seat by her.


    Thank you for joining me, Theodwyn said smiling. I trust my handmaiden did not intrude?


    Not at all, mydy, Arndis hurried to say. I was already awake and dressed, and I am always happy to see yourdyship.


    Someone really taught you how to tter, did they not, Theodwyn said while ncing elsewhere. Truth be told, I enjoy my mornings here because there is much to see, she continued, abruptly changing the topic or else simply continuing from an unspoken thought. Currently there is a young man who often sees a young woman here, and both their fathers are unaware.


    Should their fathers not be told then? asked Arndis concerned. It might ruin both their reputations.


    Oh, do not worry, dear, Theodwynughed. They are as shy as butterflies and as quick to flutter away. I do not think either of them has one immodest thought in their heads. But they are a great source of entertainment for me. They behave like actors in a stage y, always meeting under the trees or by the fountain. As if they had read in books how to court one another, Theodwyn mused.


    If you say so, Arndis said, sounding less convinced. Is that one of them there?


    I do not think they areing today, Theodwyn said, narrowing her eyes to inspect a woman that had entered the gardens. Hence why I asked you forpany.


    Thedy that had caught their attention was wearing a veil obscuring her features. She walked over to a flowerbed full of many different inhabitants; the woman knelt down slightly and poured a cup of water over a cluster of blue flowers, whose petals were shaped like bells.


    That is intriguing, Theodwyn said. I wonder whichdy feels the need to be veiled at this hour. I do feel my absence from court. In the old days, I would have recognised her by the shape of her dress.


    I do not doubt you would have, Arndis granted.


    Their attention was caught by Theodwyns handmaiden, running through the gardens until she reached her mistress. Alyssa, Theodwyn said in an admonishing tone. Ladies never run, certainly not where all may see them.


    But mdy, the handmaiden replied while panting for breath, there are terrible tidings.


    What now, are we being invaded again? Which realm is it this time?


    Far worse, mdy, Alyssa said with a trembling voice.


    ~~~~


    From the south gate, they came walking slowly, solemnly. Every kingthane had dismounted and walked in procession either ahead of or behind Berimund and the other thane holding the cloak. All along the Arnsweg people crowded, stretching necks, whispering, and spreading the word. Women wept, men muttered, priests prayed, children chattered, and soldiers saluted by falling to one knee. The kingthanes spared no nces to either side of the road but simply walked steadily onwards. A throng of people was clustered around the procession, but none darede too close, and the masses of people parted before the golden dragon on their surcoats. Tears flowed like the river coursed through the city underneath their feet as they passed the Arnsbridge. At the Temple square, the sounds of merchants haggling, peddlers hawking, and vendors harassing were silenced and gave way to cries of anguish.


    The young dragon is dead, they mourned, beating their chests in despair. Sigvards blood, Sigvards blood! Who now shall guard us?


    s for Adalrik, came another, the House of Adal has fallen!


    Sigvard, Sigvard, why have you abandoned us?


    Gods have mercy, the dragons are gone!


    Who can lead us but Sigvards blood? Gods help us! This and many other cries of woe were heard.


    ~~~~


    As the procession passed beyond the square and approached the Citadel, the onlookers were increasingly noble of birth. The jarl Valerian stood in red and golden cloak, nked by his chambein on one side and his nephew on the other. I cannot see, Konstantine said, and a few of their guards pushed people out of the way.


    This is disaster, Valerian muttered. The boy was meant for us, for our care.


    He could not have arrived in Valcaster yet, milord, Arion pointed out. None can hold you ountable.


    Yet I am sure they will, Valerian said, ncing at the grieving crowds, wailing and weeping all around them for a boy they had never seen except for the asional glimpse from afar at festivities. Send a bird to my brother. Tell him of the news and bid him return.


    At once, milord, Arion said before he with difficulty made his way through the people, all straining themselves to catch a glimpse of the dead prince upon his improvised bier.


    Elsewhere in the crowd stood the jarl of Isarn with his kinsmen. What a grievous day for the realms, Athelstan remarked.


    It truly  is, Isenwald said, his voice thick, and his uncle ced a reassuring hand upon his shoulder.


    This is an opportunity, Isenhart said, mostly to himself.


    What did you say, Brother? Athelstan asked.


    Let us return home, the jarl said in a louder voice. We can show our respect once theyy him to rest.


    The jarl of Theodstan came out of the Citadel, pushing his way forward until he reached the procession and could confirm it with his own eyes; the sight caused him to stand open-mouthed in shock.


    As thest of the four jarls, Ingmond observed the kingthanes from a window inside the castle as they reached the courtyard. He was alone, and his face revealed no emotions or thoughts lying underneath.


    ~~~~


    Sigvards blood, Sigvards blood, Brand said with a low voice, striking his chest above his heart each time he spoke the first syble of the name. Do you think they saluted my father thus when he died?


    Your father died in Heohlond, Quill said hesitantly. Depends on the men he was surrounded by.


    I suppose, Brand said with his attention on the procession. He had been hiding from his creditors in Quills domain. The windows of the library tower had an excellent view of the southern courtyard, and now they could see members of court streaming out of the inner gate. Thedy Isabel, no longer a mother, threw herself on top of the body and nestled Sigmunds cold head in her arms. They could not hear any sounds through the window, but it was easy to imagine the screams made by dead boys mother.


    I heard a bard sing it how was it, Quill muttered and began to sing quietly.


    Away he rode, with all his men


    And never to return again


    His eyes are closed, his body cold


    The Dragonheart who was of old.


    As Quills voice faded away, Brand continued with the chorus.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow.


    There was a pause before Brand spoke. Do you think they will sing songs of us when we are gone?


    You, perhaps, Quill said with a faint smile. But not for an old librarian.


    If this continues, Brand said darkly, songs are all that will remain of the line of Sigvard. With ast glimpse at the courtyard, he turned away from the spectacle below and left the tower.

 Chapter 14: Bated Breath

    Chapter 14: Bated Breath


    Bated Breath


    Middanhal


    A period of mourning was announced, involving two days of prayer and offerings. On the second day, Rilday, the prince would be buried. It was early on the first day of mourning, Laugday, when the jarl of Theodstan sought entry to the knight marshals study. Sir Roderic, with the dual power as marshal and dragonlord of Adalrik, received him. Jarl Theodoric, I recognise you, Roderic said, though I do not think we have ever been introduced.


    We have not, the jarl replied in a courteous tone of voice.


    I see you are dressed for mourning, the marshal said, gesturing towards Theodorics attire.


    The jarl looked down upon his ck tunic. This is what I always wear, he said and moved the conversation forward. I am here because I think you should raise the levies and bring them under Ordermand.


    The lord marshal has every intention of doing that once he reaches Hthiod, Roderic answered.


    No, I mean here in Adalrik. Have the jarls muster their men, thendgraves too.


    Sir Reynold warned me of this, Roderic said, leaning back in his seat.


    Warned you of what? Theodoric asked confused.


    That you would seek to interfere. That you have not forgotten the years wearing this ring. Roderic underlined his im by touching the ring of the dragonlord upon his finger.


    That is an absurd notion, Theodoric denied.


    Yet here you are, the knight marshal simply replied.


    Listen to me. Some of the other jarls are still unhappy with the Adalthing. Where it was my design, I might add, that lead to you wearing that ring, the jarl insisted.


    An office I take most seriously and where I will keep my own counsel, thank you, Roderic replied.


    If the threat from the ounders is as great as rumoured, the jarls armies will do much to bolster the Order. And with their armies sent abroad, they will be disinclined to stir trouble in Adalrik.


    And would you dly call for conscription in your own jarldom, my lord?


    If all were to do so, yes, Theodoric imed in reply. Not as the only one. The other jarls would suspect me of schemes.


    And you never scheme, clearly, Roderic said with a sardonic smile. I can tell you that the other jarls would do no such thing dly. The tax they pay to support the Order already chafes at them. In my years in the Order, I recall a dozen Adalthings where they attempted to have it reduced.


    I am aware, Theodoric said curtly. I was often present.


    If I now add to that by demanding that they raise their levies, outfit them, and send them abroad, they would truly grow discontent. Worse, they might refuse! And with all my soldiers departing for Hthiod, how am I to force them to do anything?


    They would not dare refuse a direct order, Theodoric imed.


    Yet if I do nothing they will dare to stir trouble, as you put it? No, my lord, that does not ring true. I tread a fine bnce keeping you jarls appeased, and I require no counsel. If you wish to help me, you may leave me in peace to pursue my work. Seeing no signs in the knight marshals expression that he might be persuaded otherwise, Theodoric left the chamber.


    ~~~~


    Brother, what does this mean? asked Arndis, biting her lip. She was sitting down, while Brand was pacing about. The siblings had both retreated to their quarters in refuge from the sounds of sorrow permeating the castle. Arndis handmaiden was in her alcove, crying.


    The realms are without an obvious heir. As far as I know that has never happened before. Who knows what it means? Brand shrugged, though his expression was far less casual than his gesture. The House of Adal is gone. Its eldest line, in any case. I suspect in the end the jarls will decide on something. Absent a king, they rule.


    I meant what does this mean for us? We are dragonborn. Your own name proims it.


    I doubt the jarls care about us, or that any others do, for that matter. I may have overestimated the importance of our colours when I returned to Adalrik. It has brought me neither influence nor position, Brand smiled without mirth.


    I heard a rumour, Arndis said, her voice not entirely steady. Some say the line of Sigvard is cursed. The prince in, his father in, the old king  they say that after the death of his son, he grew mad with grief. The King of Grief, they call him still.


    I was not here, I would not know if he did, Brand said and sat down next to his sister. Come now, talk of curses is an offence to us. If I hear any speak thus, I will have his tongue.


    I am not frightened by what they say, I am frightened if it is true. Father was not much more fortunate than you, Arndis pointed out.


    I fear the reasons for that are far more ordinary than involving a curse. No, Sister, the beauty of us having neithernd nor wealth is that we are not important. The only people we are in danger from are the moneylenders, Brand jested, though Arndis did not smile. That reminds me, I will have to run an errand, Brand added.


    What for? Arndis asked.


    To borrow money and fetch the tailors. We will need ck clothes.


    ~~~~


    It was not yet noon when Athelstan walked outside and found his brother tending to a falcon; the jarl of Isarn was well known for his birds of prey. Isenhart was carefully examining the feathers of the falcon when Athelstan came up to him. I noticed that Cousin Athelbold was missing from the morning meal. I went to his room just now and found it empty of his belongings.


    I have sent Athelbold north, home, the jarl said, his attention on the falcon.


    Is that so? He will have to ride hard to return in time, Athelstan said.


    Athelbold will not be here in time to observe the rites, Isenhart told his brother.


    An odd time for sending him away, Athelstan remarked with suspicion in his voice. We should all show our respect when the prince isid to rest.


    Plenty of us will be there, Isenhart said dismissively. The House of Isarn shall be ready to bid the House of Adal farewell.


    As you say, Athelstan said. He was about to turn and walk away when Isenhart spoke again.


    The Orders preparations  when are you leaving for Lake Myr?


    I should have left already, actually, Athelstan exined. I only dy until the prince isid to rest.


    Do the remaining Order troops travel with you?


    Not all, Athelstan shook his head. There are a few regimentsing from the north under Sir Fionn. They are thest that will depart for Hthiod. But they will not be in Middanhal until Disday, I believe. Why do you ask?


    Disday, Isenhart said contemtively, ignoring the question. And they will depart the day after, I presume.


    Presumably, Athelstan said, less patiently. Why this interest in the movements of the Order?


    I intend to hold a memorial gathering for all the nobles of Adalrik in memory of Prince Sigmund, the jarl exined. It will be held on  Nilday, I think.


    On the day thest Order troops depart Middanhal, Athelstanmented. Why this remarkable coincidence?


    Because Adalrik, indeed all of Adalmearc is weakened, Brother, Isenhart said, and the duty falls to us to restore its strength, especially now in the absence of an heir. Come with me inside, the jarl continued, returning the falcon to a nearby servant. We have much to discuss.


    ~~~~


    The Citadel of Middanhal not only had many floors and tall towers, it also extended deep underground. Delved by Dwarves, rumour had it, though it wasmon practice to im anything old was built or touched by Dwarves. The lower levels of the Citadel served several purposes. There wererge reservoirs of water, some filled by the river and some kept separate in case a devious enemy might contaminate the river somehow. There were alsorge food stores, kept cool and renewed by each years harvest. While it might not feed the entire citys poption for too long, it could certainly feed the inhabitants of the Citadel for many years.


    Deep in the dark was also the kings treasury, built in a ce with no windows and only one heavily guarded point of ess. Furthermore, the intricate lock as well as the heavy doors into the treasury were, naturally, built by Dwarves and would remain unharmed even if the earth itself should sunder. Finally, there was onerge room with a specific purpose, kept in the far end opposite the food stores. It was the Hall of the Honoured Dead.


    As with most other rooms underground, the hall was vaulted to increase the effect of remaining cold even in summertime. It did not store food, water, or gold, however, but bodies. This was not their final resting ce; the hall contained nothing other than hundreds of empty stone bs. Each wasrge enough for several men to be ced upon them if necessary. At the other end of the hall was one b raised, intended for those of higher rank. This was a temporary ce to store the dead that for some reason could not be buried immediately. In wartime, especially during a siege, hundreds or thousands of soldiers might die defending the city, and burial would not be possible until the siege ended. Or in the case of royalty, the artisans would need time to finish fashioning the sarcophagus. While the tomb had been prepared for some time when old King Sighelm died, the guilds had not been as foreseeing in the case of Prince Sigmund.


    The eleven-year-old boy nowy on the raised b. He had the dark locks and pale skin of the Sigvard blood, even paler now in death. The norns had washed his body and treated it with their oils, which slowed decay; if necessary, he could have been left in the cold hall for weeks or months to little effect. He was wearing dark blue clothes, new fabric unstained by blood. On his chest, with his small hands sped around the hilt, was his sword; it was little more than a long dagger to a grown man. Unlike many other things in the city, the sword was with certainty made by Dwarves, quite recently too; it had been a gift for his tenth birthday.


    The prince was not alone in the hall, but the other person was breathing and still had warmth. It was his mother, thedy Isabel, princess of Hthiod, widow, and now childless as well. There were no chairs or indeed any furniture of any kind except the biers, permanent and made from stone unlike the cloak that had carried Sigmund back to Middanhal. So Isabel stood, asionally letting her hand touch cold cheek, brushing a few hairs one way or the other, or disturbing the pose of his hands by gently cing her own on top.


    The sound of footsteps marred her reverie; although soft, even the slightest vibration resounded in the sombre stone hall. Lady Isabel? a voice spoke. It was Elis, the former dragonlord. The woman did not reply, so Elis continued to approach her. I am told you have not left this hall since yesterday, Elis added, but still no reply came. Mydy, you need to rest. And eat. Somewhere else.


    What does it matter, Isabel said tonelessly.


    It matters to me, Elis said, cautiously moving closer. I would not see you waste away.


    They killed my boy, Isabel spoke, her voice still monotonous. My husband was not enough for them. They had to take my child as well.


    And a terrible thing it is, Elis said soothingly, cing his hand on her shoulder, but you should not follow them.


    She in turn merely leaned over the princes body, facing away. I lived for my boy, she whispered. He would have made such a strong, great king. What do I have to live for now?


    I am still by your side, Elis began to speak.


    You! You were supposed to control the Adalthing. You were supposed to safeguard my sons future! Look what happened, she said, ring furiously at him before turning her gaze back to her son.


    I understand your anger, Elis said slowly, but I am not responsible for your sons death. If you need a reason to live, then consider revenge against those who are truly responsible.


    And do you know whose arrow did this? Can you tell me the man that shed my sons blood? Isabel asked pointedly, cing her hand above Sigmunds throat where the arrow had pierced his skin.


    I do not know by what hand that arrow was loosened. But I know by whosemand, Elis said, which made Isabel look back at him. Who made Sigmund leave the city, leave the protection of the Citadel? With the heir to the realms gone, who stands to gain? Who is now undisputedly the most powerful man in the kingdom? Elis asked.


    Vale, Isabel whispered. Vale, she hissed.


    Do not forget Theodstan, Elis added. This was his design as well.


    I will forget none of them, Isabel swore.


    You are not alone, mydy. We will not let them escape justice, Elis said, once more touching Isabels shoulder. She turned to gaze at her son again but did not shake his hand off.


    ~~~~


    At the Vale residence, there were extra guards at the gate. The day had gone without incident and the first evening bell had rung, but the inhabitants of the estate still felt the pressure of the city upon them; none dared guess at what the night might bring. While the streets in many other parts of the city were filled with mourners, they were empty in the north-eastern district; the nobles of Adalrik stayed indoors behind their walls and with their guards and servants surrounding them. Thus, it was easy to both see and hear a single rider swiftlying up the Arnsweg from the Temple square. Some of the archers on the outer wall of the Vale estate prepared arrows while the soldiers at the ground readied their spears.


    As the rider approached, the guards saw his cloak flowing red and gold behind him before they recognised his face and hurried to open the gate. Without slowing down, the rider galloped past them and into the courtyard where his horse copsed; he himself elegantly managed to get out of the saddle and stand while his horse sank to the ground. rmed by themotion, the jarl, his daughter, and his nephew came out of the house, one after the other. Konstans, Valerian said astonished upon recognising his brother. I only sent a message yesterday. How can you already be here?


    News reached Valcaster before any birds from Middanhal did, Konstans exined. I left several days ago. Took a galley up the river to Coldharbour and rode two  he paused and looked at the horse next to him  three horses to death to get here.


    Alone? Valerian said in shock.


    Some thanes were with me, but their horses were slow, Konstans remarked. I abandoned them somewhere between Coldharbour and here.


    You made it in time, Father, Konstantine said. The burial is tomorrow.


    Good, Konstans nodded. Afterwards, we have to start making ns.


    What ns? asked Valerie.


    Our family is at stake, Konstans told her. But in every tragedy there is opportunity. We must find some way to turn this to our advantage.


    It seems cruel, Valerie said quietly. The prince has not even beenid to rest yet.


    Cold-hearted, perhaps, Konstans admitted. But our adversaries will not be lying idle, nor can we afford to do so.


    Come inside, Valerian said, cing his hand on his brothers shoulder and leading him indoors. Get some wine, catch your breath, and we will talk. You as well, Konstantine, you might as well be there. The jarl, his brother, and his nephew walked inside while Valerie remained outside, watching the stable hands remove the carcass of Konstans steed.


    ~~~~


    In the kitchens of the Citadel, there was the usual hustle and bustle associated with feeding hundreds of people every day. With the first evening bell having rung a while ago, however, the evening meal was finishing, and the kitchen servants were concluding the days business. Food was packed away, though most helped themselves to a few servings when Cooks watchful eyes were elsewhere. Pots, pans, and tes were scrubbed clean and put aside.


    When the activity simmered down and the days chores were close to done, Kate washed her hands and face, went to the room she shared with the other kitchen girls and changed into a clean dress. She returned to the kitchen, walking towards the exit when Cooks sharp voice stopped her. Where are you off to? she demanded to know.


    Work is done, its not your business, Kate said just as sharply.


    Youre my responsibility when you work in my kitchen, Cook retorted.


    If you must know, I was going to the Temple, Kate replied reluctantly.


    Its a bad night for going out, Cook said brusquely. Especially for young girls.


    Im just going straight to the shrine. For Idisea, Kate rified. Then Ill be back in the castle. She showed her hand, which contained a silver mark, several days pay for a kitchen girl.


    Cooks features softened slightly. Well,e straight back then. I dont like you being outside the castle after evening bell. And we have a long day tomorrow, lots to do. You better be sharp and awake, girl.


    I will be, Kate promised, and Cook released her to go to the Temple, leave her offering and say her prayers for the dead prince like so many othermoners had done and would do in these days.

 Chapter 15: The Dragons of Wyrmpeak

    Chapter 15: The Dragons of Wyrmpeak


    The Dragons of Wyrmpeak


    Middanhal


    When morning came, it was the day of the princes burial. The procession began in the Hall of the Honoured Dead. A simple bier had been constructed to carry the princes body; four kingthanes, one in each corner, lifted him up. Berimund, their captain, walked in front and led the group. The rest of the thanes were ced in a circle; as the procession moved up and outside the Citadel, they formed a defensive line around the body of the in. Just behind the bier walked Isabel, who had been wife to one prince, mother to another, and was now neither; her face was stiff and revealed no emotions. The knight marshal in his capacity as dragonlord had the position next to Isabel.


    Behind them as a special courtesy was Baldric, weeping uncontrobly, and then came all the high nobility of Adalrik, consisting of the jarls and their followers, thendgraves and margraves, and the two atheling houses, Arnling and Hardling. Brand and Arndis stood for Arnling, whereas Hardling was represented by three brothers and a sister. Curiously, as with Brand, the head of House Hardling was a young man not even of age; he only had this position because his father had died long before time.


    Once outside the castle, the procession entered the Arnsweg, following it south to the Temple square and then east. All along the streets, people were lined up to catch ast glimpse of the prince. Unlike two days ago when the princes body was returned to Middanhal, the crowds were not caught by the same frenzy in their grief. Now it was more subdued, tears rather than cries with flowers thrown onto the cobbled stones before the procession. It did not rain, but nor did the sun shine; it hid behind clouds, casting a bleak light over the city.


    Eventually the procession left the Arnsweg and reached the eastern mountainside against which Middanhal was built. Just south of here was the waterfall where the river Mihtea flowed from the mountains and into the city; even from the distance, the sound of the thundering water could be heard. The procession was headed elsewhere, however, towards an opening in the mountain that led inside and underneath the Wyrmpeak. It was the Crypt of Kings.


    Whilemoners were typically buried outside the city and the nobles often had their own crypts and gravesites in their fiefs, the House of Adal had buried all their dead in this ce; so it had been ever since Sigvard, buried there as the first underneath the mountain where he had done his great deed. Over the years,bourers had expanded the vault, chiselled out new graves, and made room for more sarcophaguses. All of the kings rested here in their stone coffins, typically together with their queen. The vaulted room wasrge enough to hold the entire procession even if the narrow entrance caused some dy in allowing all to enter. A band of soldiers had entered ahead of the mourners and now stood with torches in a ring along the edge of the circr room, allowing people to see; their lights were like stars in the vault of night.


    The crypt was made so that the dead were buried along the sides in alcoves carved out for the purpose. When the entire lower row had been filled out, they simply began cutting out alcoves a row above and filling that out. Over the centuries, several rows had been filled, and the guildsmen had constructed a ramp to be able to bring the princes body up to hisst resting ce. They were hampered slightly by the fact that the centre of the vault was upied by Sigvards grave; naturally, he held the ce of honour, and his tomb stood alone.


    Opposite the entrance and a few rows up were thetest excavated alcoves. Among them was King Sighelms tomb, currently thest high king of Adalmearc. Like the others, it was a stone coffin with a statue carved upon the lid; it showed the king as an aged man, but peaceful as hey in a restful pose. Between the stone hands was something of the utmost value, however; it was the Dragon Crown of Adalrik. It was in fact a helmet made of sea-steel as smiths and schrs called it; a type of steel that none knew anymore how to make. It made the metal appear like a sea with waves crashing against each other, hence the name.


    This particr helmet was fashioned in a particr manner; on top of the helmet shape was carved the form of a dragon with its wings falling down the sides and its tail curling down the back. It was slightly gilded, but it was made of sea-steel as well with the wave pattern resembling scales; it was a tremendous feat of craftsmanship to make the arbitrary pattern appear in this manner. Many of the nobles nced towards the crown as ity resting between the hands of the marble statue of King Sighelm, where ity waiting for the day that his son or his sons son woulde to im it, a day that would now never arrive.


    The four kingthanes walked up the ramp and reached the stone coffin intended for Sigmund. It was next to his fathers, Sigmar, where one day thedy Isabel was also intended to be ced. For now though, she was still alive and advanced up the ramp behind her son. Once the thanes had lowered him down, carefully rearranging his hands around his sword again, they stepped back and let thedy bid her son farewell. She leaned over to kiss his cold forehead before yielding her ce to the high priestess of Idisea. The norn said her prayers over the grave, promising the prince an eternal rest and Idiseas wrath on any who would attempt to disturb his sleep. Feathers of a raven were scattered over the open coffin, and a small eagle statuette in gold was ced on top of the body; the eagle would guide his soul across the gap to thend of the gods while the raven feathers were a reminder of Idiseas watchful gaze.


    The ritual done, Isabel gestured for the thanes to ce the stone lid upon the coffin. Guild artisans had been hard at work to fashion the sarcophagus, which was not merely stone but marble; atop the lid was carved a statue in the likeness of the prince. Below it were written his birth words ording to custom. For some reason, upon seeing the marble statue and the words inscribed below, Isabel could not stop an outburst of tears as the thanes ced the lid down and sealed the coffin shut.


    ~~~~


    Once outside the mountain, the procession began to scatter. Athelstan stood beside his nephew, speaking in quiet tones. I agree with your father that it is best you remain in Middanhal until it is done, Athelstan said.


    I may not even be needed here, Eumundined. I should go to Hthiod with you.


    You still can once it is over. But should something unforeseen happen, I consider it wiser you are here. You can perhaps bnce some of your fathers temper.


    As you say, Eumund relented.


    We will have to make excuses, Athelstan continued. I will inform Sir Richard and the others that you will be travelling with thest regimentsing from the north, while Sir Fionn in turn will think you have already left. You better remain out of sight at the estate until after the feast.


    Of course, Eumund said. But afterwards I will join you in Hthiod, correct?


    If all goes well, Athelstan nodded. Just make sure you bring the all documents, signed by the correct seals. Once news as well as I reach the lord marshal in Hthiod, we need to have everything in order.


    I will, Uncle, Eumund said, smiling. In two days time it will be done. Then they parted ways.


    ~~~~


    The days of mourning had dyed all movements and transport to the Orders encampment. Thus, a few days worth of wagons along with a number of newly enlisted soldiers stood awaiting in the courtyard. Nichs stood with his bow staff and bag in a group of other soldiers, none of whom he knew. He had said goodbye to the tavern keeper Gilbert and his maid Ellen earlier that day, and now he stood inspecting his staff simply because there was nothing else to do. Sir Richard of Alwoods sergeant, the recement for Eumund as his squire, was waiting for his lord with horses saddled. Since Brand had been part of the burial procession, he did not have horses ready for Athelstan and himself; however, a few quickmands to some of the idling soldiers took care of that.


    It was not long we had together, Arndis said, attempting to smile.


    They are merely ckboots and rabble ounders, Brand remarked lightly. I will see you again before winter solstice, I am sure of it.


    I hope you are right, Arndis said, biting her lower lip. She gave Brand an embrace. Be safe, Brother.


    Brand returned the gesture and pulled back. I will, Sister. Enjoy court life, he added smiling.


    I will try, Arndis said with a half-hearted smile.


    Before I forget, Brand said suddenly. I was at our home, and I took our house book with me. The Arnling Tome of Names, he added.


    Howe? Arndis asked frowning.


    In case my creditors should get a bit zealous, perhaps help themselves to the contents of our house. The rest is of little worth, but not the book.


    Is it in our quarters? I did not see it, Arndis said.


    Brand shook his head. I gave it to the Kings Quill to tend to it. It has suffered a little wear over the years, and there is no safer ce for a book than in that tower, he added smiling. If I am not back in time for your twenty-first, you can read your birth words yourself.


    Just focus on getting back to read your own, Arndis admonished him. When this war is over, we will celebrate both your return and youring of age.


    We will, dear sister, Brand said with a final smile. He mounted his horse and took position in thepany next to Athelstan, and they departed from the courtyard.


    ~~~~


    The soldiers manning the Citadel slept and lived in barracks on the lower floors. When there were jarls or noblemen living in the castle with a following of thanes, they could not have all their men staying in their own personal chambers at the same time, and so these thanes were usually quartered in the barracks as well. The exception to all this were the kingthanes, naturally, who had their own quarters in the royal section of the Citadel. In this way, they could watch all who entered the royalpartments. As captain of the kingthanes, Berimund had his own private room next to the halls that served as barracks to his men. With the burial of the prince ended, Berimund now returned his chamber.


    It was austere and small, not much more than the cell offered to knights and beorns living at the castle. There were a few pieces of furniture; a bed, an armoire for his clothes, an armour rack, and a ce to hang his weapons fulfilled his needs. Looking around the familiar room, Berimund stood still for a few moments. Then he unfastened the great battle axe from his back and leaned it against the wall before he removed his surcoat with its golden dragon upon a blue background, cing it on the bed carefully. He stretched it to its full length, smoothing out any wrinkles, and unbuckled his sword belt. He removed the mail armour that he wore beneath the surcoat and hung it upon the rack, then did the same with the leather jerkin he wore underneath that until only his linen tunic remained.


    Picking up his scabbard, Berimund pulled out the sword. Its handle was borate, made in the fashion of a dragons head and gilded; it had been a gift from the king when he had be captain of the kingthanes some years ago. I do not deserve your edge, Berimund said to the sword and ced it unsheathed on the bed next to the surcoat. Taking a deep breath, he collected a rope that had been stashed in his wardrobe and began to fashion a noose.


    ~~~~


    Arndis had not previously been to the library tower. However, there were plenty of amodating kingthanes in that part of the Citadel who were happy to show the young, beautifuldy the way she needed, and she had no trouble finding it. Gaining admittance, she looked around the main hall of the tower with its many shelves, all lined with books. From an adjoining room came a slender, aged man with dark hair, tanned skin, and stains of ink upon both his robe and fingers. May I help you, mydy? asked Quill.


    Forgive me for approaching you, Arndis said with a bow; although he was not nobility, the Kings Quill was usually treated as such. I am Arndis of House Arnling. My brother may have mentioned me.


    He did, Quill said with a smile. He apologised too that there had not been asion to make introductions himself.


    He has been a bit preupied ofte, Arndis exined.


    No doubt, Quill replied. He gestured for Arndis to follow into the adjoining room, the scriptorium. I imagine you havee here because of this, he said and pointed to arge volume ced open upon one of the desks.


    Our Tome of Names, Arndis eximed. Yes, I recognise it.


    I am merely examining it, Quill reassured her. I may freshen the ink on some of the oldest pages. Eight hundred years do make letters fade.


    You have my brothers trust and therefore mine, Arndis said, to which Quill inclined his head in eptance.


    She moved over to the great volume, touching the edges of the paper. In it were inscribed the names of all the members of House Arnling with the first name being Arn and thest two being Adalbrand and Arndis. Next to the names were written other pertinent information about each person, their rtions to others, their titles, and most importantly, their birth words.


    The norn or norns presiding over a birth would, once the child had been safely delivered, speak three sentences pertaining to the childs future, which often influenced what name they would be given. It was custom upon the twenty-first birthday when a child became of age to be told his or her birth words. Since Arndis was not old enough yet, she did not look at her own entry, but instead she gazed down upon the first page. Next to Arns name, his titles, and his deeds were written his birth words as well. Born to eagle wings, soul filled with fire, taller than winged wyrm, she read aloud.


    Careful, Quill cautioned her. That page is a little worn.


    Arndis fingers quickly shied away from the book. I merely came to see it. Brand  I mean, Adalbrand told me you were mending it.


    As I said, refreshing it where necessary. Brand is a friend, Quill said with a gentle smile.


    I am d. I will not take more of your time, Arndis said and turned to leave.


    The library is always open to you, mydy, should you require any sce, Quill told her with a bow. She smiled in gratitude and left.


    Passing down the corridors by the kings quarters, Arndis heard the curious sound of something heavy falling down from one of the rooms near the thanes barracks. Good manners dictated one never entered a closed door to somebodys room, but in this case, the door was slightly ajar. Arndis peeked inside, and a curious sight greeted her. Inside was the captain of the kingthanes. He was not in armour or armed, but instead he had rope around his neck, and a chairy fallen over on the floor.


    I cannot even tie a knot, came an outburst from Berimund; he was sitting on the floor, having fallen down along with his rope, which had not been sufficiently fastened to the ceiling rafters to support the great mans weight. Behind him, Arndis slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside.


    My lord, she said, clearing her throat. Surprised, Berimund hurried to stand up but then stood speechless. I am in need of a good length of rope, she said to him, which made a questioning expression appear on his face. Would you be so kind as to lend me some? she asked, extending her hand expectantly. Dumbfounded, Berimund removed the noose around his neck and handed her the rope.


    I am also a little ufortable around sharp edges, Arndis continued, gesturing towards the unsheathed de on Berimunds bed. Would you be so kind as to sheathe it? Again, Berimundplied with her request wordlessly. Out in the corridor, a few thanes appeared to investigate themotion. Arndis, however, turned and silently beckoned them to disappear, and when their captain did not say otherwise, the thanes followed hermand.


    Turning back to Berimund, Arndis sent him a smile and took a seat at the edge of the bed. Do you have something to drink? I am a little thirsty, she told the captain. He nced around confused until he saw a pitcher of ale and poured some of its content into a cup. He offered it to her, which she epted. Will you take a cup as well? To keep mepany, she suggested. Berimund filled another cup and drank heavily from it. When it was empty, he exhaled and sat down in a chair. Much better, Arndis remarked.


    I am sorry, Berimund began to speak, but Arndis interrupted his speech with a wave of her hand.


    You are a man who takes his oaths seriously, I deem.


    I am, Berimund said with a thick voice. And I failed


    Again, Arndis interrupted him. I need a promise from you, Lord Berimund. I need you to promise me that when I leave this room, I will not have cause toe back and request more rope from you, she said.


    I promise, Berimund said somewhat meekly, looking down into his empty cup.


    Good, Arndis said with a smile. I know you will keep your promise.


    Forgive me, mydy. You have the advantage of me, knowing my name.


    My manners, I apologise. I am Arndis of House Arnling.


    You are the dragonborns new at court, Berimund realised. Perhaps whymand seems natural to you. The thane frowned before he spoke again. Arnling, you say? Your brother, he was the one.


    Who wanted your position, yes. I hope you will not hold it against him. It was not personal.


    Perhaps I should have let him, Berimund muttered. He might have done better.


    I refuse to believe any could have done better than you, my lord, Arndis said sternly.


    Berimund swallowed, speaking with a thick voice. There is no greater shame for a thane than to survive his lord, he said.


    I had a moment of despair not long ago, Arndis began to exin. When I found out my brother was leaving me to be on my own. But I remembered that I had been on my own for many years, long before my brother returned to Middanhal. True shame, my lord Berimund, would be to give in to a moment of despair. That is not worthy of a dragonborn nor a kingthane. Arndis stood up, and Berimund did likewise in a show of courtesy. We will meet again no doubt, Arndis said to the thane, who bowed in response. Thank you for the rope, she added, and left with the aforementioned object in her hand. It waster found burned in the hearth of her chamber.

 Chapter 16: A Breach of Sanctity

    Chapter 16: A Breach of Sanctity


    A Breach of Sanctity


    Middanhal


    Two days after the prince had been buried, Middanhal returned to some semnce of normality. Some of the nobles were leaving the city, returning to their estates and fiefdoms; nearly all the soldiers and their baggage train had departed for Lake Myr, including much of the city guard. Only a few regiments were present now and intended for departureter that day. Inparison with the crowds at solstice, the city streets seemed almost empty apart from the northern gate, which still saw people entering. Another exception was the gardens of the Citadel, still often frequented by the remaining nobles at court taking advantage of the summer weather and warm mornings. While the members of the House of Vale were staying at their own mansion in the city, it was not surprising to see Valerie in those blossoming surroundings; at least not to those who noticed that ofte she had often been seen there.


    With eyes ncing in every direction, she walked out of sight, moving behind arge oak tree. Another person was waiting for her; upon seeing this, Valeries expression bloomed into a smile. Isenwald, she said happily. He did not reply to her greeting other than he took her hands.


    Time  is short today, he told her, his expression grave.


    What is wrong? she asked upon seeing his countenance.


    You have to leave the city. Your family must as well, Isenwald said forcefully.


    I do not understand, Valerie said, but Isenwald cut her off.


    My father ns something. I  do not know what. He will not tell me until tonight.


    And you are concerned for my sake? she questioned.


    Whatever  it  is, he holds no affection for your family. He has brought soldiers to the city. Please - I beg you, leave today.


    It sounds so drastic, Valerie said with doubt. I know he is holding a feast, is it not simply that?


    There are too many soldiers for  it to be something that  innocent, Isenwald told her.


    But leave the city? Just like that?


    You must, Isenwald urged her. Please  I know my father. You must convince yours that you are all to leave.


    I am not sure my father will follow my counsel unless I can tell him who gave me warning, Valerie said slowly. And if I do, he will never let me near you again.


    After tonight  I fear that would be the case regardless. It  is more  important that you are safe, Isenwald impressed upon her. She pressed the paper in her hands against him.


    If I had known this would be a letter of farewell, I would have written differently. And much more, she said, her voice not entirely steady and dew drops threatening to appear in the corner of her eye. Isenwald epted her letter and gave her his own parchment in return.


    Nor  is mine such a letter. It  is  only a letter  of goodbye for now, he said with an attempt to smile. She cleared her throat, trying to speak, but no words came. Instead, she simply took his letter and swiftly, lightly, touched his mouth with hers; then she was gone.


    ~~~~


    The jarl of Theodstan was eating breakfast in his own quarters when his sister entered the parlour. Theodoric, she said, making him look up. I think the jarl of Isarn is plotting against the Crown.


    If there is a Crown at the moment, Theodoricmented dryly before her remark sank in. Wait, how do you mean?


    I was at the gardens and listened to his son, the one who talks slowly. He was warning Valerie of Vale to take her family and leave the city.


    Hold a moment. Why would the son of Isarn, who hates Vale, warn said enemys daughter?


    Because they are young and foolish, Theodwyn said impatiently, and their fathers enmity towards each other no doubt only encourages them.


    He is rumoured to be a half-wit, Theodoric admitted. He probably would do something like that. But did he say anything specific?


    No, only that his father was gathering soldiers.


    Considering that your source probably is a half-wit, perhaps we should be cautious in trusting him, Theodoric objected.


    Their conversation was interrupted by Holwine who entered wearing a cloak, breeches, and other clothes for warmth. Have you been out all night? asked the jarl.


    Noticed something odd yesterday and didnt get home in time before the Citadels gate was closed, Holwine said, shedding the cloak. With solstice over, you would think traffic was leaving the city. But theres been steady stream of people entering Woolgate for thest few days, Holwine continued, using the colloquial name for the northern gate. I asked our man watching the Saltgate, but everything seemed normal there.


    Could these people entering the north gate perhaps be soldiers from Isarn? asked Theodwyn innocently.


    Possibly, Holwine admitted. I saw no obvious weapons, no spears or shields, but their cloaks could easily conceal swords and mail shirts.


    The feast tonight, Theodoric suddenly said. All the nobles, well most of them, along with their thanes and families will attend. All gathered at the Isarnpound.


    Soldiers brought into the city and all the jarls rivals gathered, Holwine said slowly. That is no coincidence.


    At the same time that thest Order troops are marching out of the realm, Theodwyn added.


    Not yet, Holwine corrected her. There are a few regiments at the Citadel still, though I think they are marching out today.


    Leaving the city nearly empty of troops, Theodoric said contemtively. We must stop them from leaving. Whatever Isarn ns, we cannot have the city defenceless.


    Go to the knight marshal, Theodwyn suggested. Tell him to detain the troops.


    The knight marshal does not take my counsel, Theodoric smiled sardonically. He has made that clear.


    Captain Theobald? Theodwyn said, turning the suggestion towards the captain of the city guard.


    If he had any power to withhold troops, he would have done so. They have taken nearly his entire guard with them to Lake Myr. Plus, all we have are spections and rumour, Theodoric objected. The captain has no reason to believe me.


    The regiments are led by a knight, correct? asked Holwine.


    Most likely, Theodoric said.


    They cannot leave without their knightmander, Holwine said with a smile. I will make sure the regiments are dyed here in the Citadel, the servant imed, leaving the parlour.


    We should speak with Vale, Theodwyn suggested. If his daughter has warned him, he will be as eager as we are.


    Valerian cannot stop this, Theodoric shook his head. He has no troops in the city. If he has any sense, he will flee as swiftly as possible rather than wait for Isarns men toe and drag him away.


    What of the encampment at Lake Myr then? asked Theodwyn. There must be several thousand men at theke.


    There should be, some five thousand I believe, Theodoric said. But they are led by Sir Athelstan. The jarls nning is excellent. His brother leads all Order troops out of the realm, leaving the city defenceless. But, he added quickly in a sh of remembrance, Richard is there as well.


    He will believe you, Theodwyn imed. He is your oldest friend.


    It is worth the attempt, Theodoric considered. If Richard can stop the Order forces from leaving Adalrik and march back to Middanhal it will be toote to stop Isarn from whatever he ns tonight, but he cannot have more than some hundred men in the city. A thousand at most, and their hold on the city will be tenuous at best. Richard can retake the city once we return.


    You have to go, Theodwyn agreed. Go, warn Richard, convince him to throw Athelstan in chains and march straight back to Middanhal.


    Let us hope it will not be Athelstan throwing me in chains, Theodoric said darkly. If I ride now and avoid being conspicuous, I will be by Lake Myr in two or three days. A forced march and another four days should see us back in Middanhal.


    It will raise suspicion if you do not attend Isenharts feast tonight, Theodwyn pointed out.


    Suspicions, maybe, but I doubt Isarn will alter his course, Theodoric argued.


    Nheless, seeing you ride hard out of the southern gate and your absence tonight, Theodwyn continued, he may guess your intent. Best we keep him in the dark for as long as we can.


    What do you propose? asked Theodoric.


    Holebert, Theodwyn called, and the servant came out into the parlour.


    Yes, mdy?


    Stand next to my brother, shemanded, which Holebert did. You are about same height.


    Not the same hair, Theodoric countered; Holebert was nearly shorn with brown stubbles, while the jarl had longer, darker locks. Not the same face, for that matter. Not to mention Holebert has one finger too many, the jarl added, raising his left hand with its four fingers.


    He will wear the gloves you are supposed to wear so you do not frighten others, Theodwyn admonished him. He will wear your clothes, he will arrive with me, and he will be wearing your cloak with the hood up to hide his face.


    Will that not raise suspicions as well? Theodoric argued.


    You, that is to say Holebert, will have a dreadful headache and eyes very sensitive to the light, Theodwyn smiled. Which will necessitate that you keep your hood up and eyes covered.


    A dreadful headache? Theodoric said doubtingly. That sounds like a meagre excuse for the vengeance of wine.


    Of course it does, Theodwyn said, pping her brothers cheek. But you are a jarl, and it would be impertinent for any to question your exnation or choice of attire.


    Very well, Theodoric conceded. But first, Holebert, go down to the barracks. Fetch my sergeant, and tell him to bring a handful of my thanes, but quietly. We do not wish to alert any that I am leaving the city. Holebert bowed and left to carry out themand.


    ~~~~


    While the jarl of Theodstan and his associates were thus upied, Valerie of Vale was not wasting time either. Returning home, she hurried inside and into her fathers study. Valerie, he eximed. You know I do not like being disturbed while going through my ledgers, the jarl reproached her.


    Father, we have to leave the city. Today, she insisted.


    What talk is this? Are you ill? asked her father.


    I was warned, Valerie said and then hesitated slightly. By Isenwald. The son of


    I know whose son he is, Valerian interrupted brusquely. Why were you speaking with him?


    You introduced us, Valerie pointed out. You made us meet for our engagement.


    Weeks ago, Valerian said with suspicion in his voice. Not this morning or any other mornings where you have been away.


    Father, this is not the time, Valerie began to say.


    I decide when it is time to discuss this, the jarl roared, as I decide anything else in this family! Or have you forgotten?


    Father, please, Valerie said with a shaking voice.


    I give you free rein and you betray me, go behind my back? her father yelled.


    Normally I would leave you alone, another voice broke in, but your shouting is disturbing. I am meeting Linstead soon to discuss the state of the realm, which takes precedence, I should think, Konstans said icily. His brother and niece both stopped and looked at him.


    My daughter betrays me, Valerian roared.


    Uncle, please listen to me, Valerie said, though her words almost drowned in her fathers shouts. Isenwald came to me today and warned me.


    Valerian began to speak in an angry tone, but Konstans raised his hand tomand silence. Valerie, what is this talk of the Isarn boy?


    He is of age, actually, not a boy, Valerie began, but the look on her fathers face made her hurry to continue. He saw me today, and he warned me that his father ns something. He fears for my life, for our lives.


    And what reason does the boy have for being concerned for you? What is the source of his trustworthiness? enquired Konstans.


    We have, Valerie hesitated, been exchanging letters. Nothing more, she hastened to add.


    He cares for you? Konstans asked while Valerian appeared ready to burst in anger.


    I believe so, Valerie said quietly.


    Valerie, you know what his family has done to ours! Valerian finally yelled. Isarn is not somebody we willingly associate with. Especially not that half-wit son they have!


    He is not, Father! Valerie eximed. If you would only know him as I do.


    Konstans gestured for both of them to be quiet. I underestimated Isarn, he spoke, and father and daughter turned their attention to him. It rests upon the Adalthing to choose a new heir, which is what I have been preparing for. But Isarn knows he can never win an election. He was not even close to bing lord protector, Konstans said contemtively. He is breaking the rules to win the y.


    You believe me? Valerie asked, relief flooding her voice.


    I do. The Order forces leaving Adalrik, Isarn holding a feast tonight, it makes sense.


    Do not think this excuses you, Valerian said sternly. Konstans, what do you suggest we do?


    If Isarn has nned this right, he has far more men in the city than we do. We have to leave, return to Vale, and prepare to strike in retaliation.


    Valerian nodded. We will leave in a few unmarked carriages with just the thanes. No reason to alert Isarn that we have been warned of his ns. Find Arion, he added gruffly to Konstans, and tell him to prepare. As his brother left the room, the jarl looked at Valerie. And you may prepare to be chained to your room in Valcaster!


    ~~~~


    At the Citadel, Berimund was studying a golden coin. He was captain of the kingthanes, but the thanes had no charge anymore. Thedy Isabel still lived in the royal quarters, but without her husband and her son, she did not as such have any ties to the House of Adal. Most of the thanes had been spending their time in the city, spending their silver as well. Others, like Berimund, had retreated to their quarters.


    Berimund was sitting on his bed with his weapons set aside and his armour and surcoat hanging on the rack. He had not donned any of his gear since his conversation with Arndis the other day and did not do so now. Instead, he got up and left his room, wearing only a leather tunic above his linen shirt. Some of the kingthanes raised eyebrows at seeing their captain unarmed, but none raised any questions. Unhindered, Berimund passed through the Citadel until he approached a section adjacent to the northern courtyard, known as the Great Forge.


    It was home to many furnaces for smelting metal, exuding heat. The greatest of these turned iron into Nordsteel, a stronger mettle than could be found elsewhere in the world; part of why the Orders armies were so fearsome in battle and why it was forbidden to sell weapons or armour out of Adalmearc. The smaller furnaces were for silver or gold. Here, the workmen threw suspicious nces at Berimund, keeping a close eye on him. He had entered the part of the Great Forge that handled the precious metals of the realms; it was the Mint of Adalrik.


    Deeper into the smallpound, Berimund could hear the constant strokes of smiths hammering upon the dies which imprinted the symbols upon the coins. The die serving as anvil was the same for all of them, bearing the dragon of Adalrik. This gave the sharpest imprint, and it was a guarantee that the coin came from the Mint in Middanhal. The die on the other side took the brunt of the hammer stroke and was less uniform from coin to coin, which made it differ in sharpness. The image was also different ording to the metal. A bull on copper coins, an eagle for silver, and a crown for gold.


    Before Berimund could advance, however, his path was blocked. The man in front of him was not particrly tall, especially inparison to the imposing Berimund; he was perhaps five feet and a few inches. He was bald but made up for this with a great beard, and he wore an apron and gloves in heavy leather. His skin was dark like the deep earth and his hair ck as the roots of a mountain. In his left ear hung a golden ring; it was thin, but gold nheless. While this was an ordinary tradition among sailors, they had adopted it from the peculiar people that lived mostly in the northern cities of Adalmearc. The man blocking Berimunds path was, like all the other people manning the Mint and most of the Great Forge, a Dwarf.


    Where do you think youre going? came a scowling question. Like all of his kind, the Dwarf was almost indistinguishable in appearance from Men; the only exceptions being besides his golden earring that his skin was darkerpared to the men of the North and his voice deeper than his height would suggest.


    I need to ask someone who knows about coins, Berimund said.


    Then go ask your mum, replied the minter, and make her tell you to stay out of other peoples business.


    I am captain of the kingthanes, Berimund eximed angrily, towering over the Dwarf, who did not seem suitably impressed.


    And Im Master of the Mint. Now there aint any kings down here, but there is a Mint, which means Im in charge, the Dwarf said unmoved.


    I need help, Berimund mumbled and dug out the golden coin that they had found among the bodies of the princes attackers. I need to know where thises from.


    Eh? the Dwarf said, plucking the coin from Berimunds hands. He examined its sides and then ced it between his teeth and bit down. Feels a little off. They must use more copper than we do.


    But where is it from? Berimund asked. The Dwarf stood weighing the coin in his hand; then he took out a Mearcian crown from his belt and held it in the other hand forparison.


    Weight is just about the same though, very close to a mark, The Dwarf continued. Id need the scales to know for sure.


    I asked you, where is it from? Berimund said impatiently.


    I heard you, said the minter, flipping the coin back to the kingthane, who lunged forward with both hands to grab it. Coin is from Alczar, the Dwarf continued. Got that ship imprinted on it, thats their sign. Any merchant who travels west could have told you that, I reckon.


    So theyremon? asked Berimund, holding the coin up to inspect the ship that was marked upon it.


    Probably in Herbergja they are, the Dwarf said with disinterest. Lots of ships there that also make port in Alczar. But Im a minter, not a merchant. So hows about you sod off and leave us to our work! Berimund sent the shorter man an angry re, but he had no reply to make, so he simply turned around and left with the gold coin in hand.


    ~~~~


    Holwine hastened through the Citadel to reach the northern side. It was still early, and the remaining Order troops had not yet departed for Lake Myr. Looking out the window, however, one could see the regiments gathering, hauling carts out from cover, and harnessing the horses. A few hundred men, nearly all that remained of the Orders forces in Middanhal. Once they were gone, there would only be a skeleton crew left of the city guard; what they needed to man the gates of the city and the Citadel, and scarcely more than that.


    Holwine stopped briefly to inspect the courtyard. The horses for the knight and his attendant were ready and saddled but currently riderless; Holwine therefore ran towards the hallways between the northern courtyard and the barracks and cells, where most knights resided. Seeing two men in armour down a corridor, Holwine nced towards their heels and saw golden spurs on one of them.


    Sir, sir! Holwine called out. Both men turned around. Sir Roderic sent me to fetch you before you leave. He has final instructions for you, the servant told the knight.


    Could he not simply have had you pass them on? the knight asked brusquely.


    They are matters above my head, Holwine said with an expression of ignorance.


    Of course, the knight sighed and turned to his sergeant. Tell the men to line up and stand ready. I will be there shortly.


    Yes, milord, the sergeant said and disappeared outside while the knight began to walk back into the Citadel, followed by Holwine.


    No need to follow me, I know the way, the knight said gruffly, turning his head back to nce his pursuer.


    Of course, milord, Holwine said, the servant bowing while walking just a few steps behind. But Sir Roderic bade me return as well.


    Sir Roderic, the knight said with a poorly concealed measure of contempt. I bet it suits him fine to remain here at the castle. Holwine did not answer but merely fell back another pace, out of the knights line of vision, and pulled out a sap.


    ~~~~


    The royalpartments were in the south-western part of the Citadel on the top floors. Just below were the quarters of the dragonlord along with chambers for envoys from the other realms and the most prestigious guests; those would primarily be the jarls. Although the wings housing these prominent people were in such close proximity to the royal residence, there was no direct route going from the lower floor to the upper. All entries into the section reserved for the royal house were controlled and guarded by the kingthanes, and the path went through the area that served as their barracks.


    Thus, Elis could not avoid them, and he moved slightly ufortable among the kingthanes as they passed him by in the hallways. It was rumoured that Elis had sought to rece their captain with an outsider, which made them look upon Elis with ill will. Now that he was no longer dragonlord, they did not disguise their dislike towards him. It was almost with relief that he reached his destination and requested admittance into thedy Isabels quarters. A handmaiden allowed him in, and he found Isabel sitting by her vanity mirror while another handmaiden was tending to her hair.


    Lord Elis, Isabel said, ncing at him in the mirror.


    Mydy, Elis replied with a bow. Might we speak under more private terms?


    Isabel nced at him again and nodded at her handmaidens, who retreated into one of the inner chambers and closed the door behind them. What is it? asked Isabel.


    I came to dissuade you from attending the jarl of Isarns feast tonight.


    It is held in my sons honour, of course I should attend, Isabel objected.


    I think it is held in the jarls honour mostly, Elis said quietly. It would be unwise to go.


    Why is that?


    Because I havee to know him quite well, and I do not trust him at all. He is vengeful, spiteful, and with an appetite for power above his station.


    Much like you, then, Isabel smirked.


    I y by the rules, Elis retorted. With the heir to the realms gone, the rules have be  hazy.


    You mean to say that my sons death has left the rule ofw doubtful, Isabel said pointedly.


    Yes, mydy, Elis said cautiously. I think Isarn intends to take advantage of it.


    Could that not be to our advantage as well? Is he not the enemy of Vale, Isabel said and added quickly, my enemy.


    He is, Elis nodded. But if we deliver ourselves into Isarns hands, we will be nothing more than tools he can use as he wishes. I do not trust him to strike a bargain if he is in a position to simply take by force.


    So what are you advising me to do?


    To wait, Elis told her. We are safe in the Citadel but not at Isarns manor. Let us find out first what he ns and how it may fit with our own designs.


    Wait, Isabel said with scorn. That is all you ever counsel me to do.


    I also counselled you to write to your sister-inw and your cousin. You have powerful rtives, Lady Isabel, but again, it takes time for letters to arrive. We must not act hastily on something of this import, Elis impressed on her.


    Do you think they will act? Either of them? Isabel asked, her teeth touching her lower lip.


    The invasion of Hthiod has tied the hands of the regent, I would fear, Elis admitted. I will meet with her envoy here in Middanhalter to discuss what she may be able to do for you.


    My cousin?


    Korndale is another matter, Elis said with more optimism. Your cousin is free to act, and he can support his demands with military strength. King Adrd is certainly a match for the jarl of Vale.


    These jarls have never respected my cousin, Isabelined, even though by their terms he is dragonborn. They should bow to the king of Korndale as they did to my husband.


    The northern jarls do not wish to bow to a southerner, Elis exined, and the southern jarls are afraid of losing their influence to a foreign king. So they discount him because it is only matrilineally that he is born of Sigvards blood.


    Sigvards blood, Isabel grimaced. What does it matter whether it is inherited from his mother or his father? Blood is blood.


    Not in Adalrik, Elis pointed out, watching thedy.


    Isabel sat silent for a moment before she spoke again. Very well. I will not attend the feast tonight. I will wait as you wish.


    Your patience will be rewarded in the end, Elis promised, bowed, and took his leave.


    Outside the royal suites, Elis passed through the kingthanes as hastily as he could while maintaining his dignity. Suddenly, however, he found his way hindered by a particrlyrge man. Why are you here? Berimund asked unfriendly.


    The affairs of andgrave are not yours to pry into, Elis replied with equal discourtesy in his voice. You are a beorn. Little more than amoner on the street.


    I am captain of the kingthanes, Berimund roared, gaining the attention of several others nearby.


    Yet where is the king? Elis asked with a low hiss. You are as useful as a brittle sword with no edge. Harmless and liable to break into pieces under pressure, thendgrave sneered and moved past the kingthane before Berimund could reply.


    ~~~~


    Guests began to arrive at the Isarn mansion when it waste afternoon. The great feast hall had been prepared suitably, decorated inrge banners of red and ck. All cups, tes, and bowls were of silver and polished until they glittered. Nothing was served yet, however; it would not be until the first evening bell struck. As guests arrived on horseback or in carriages, they filtered into the hall and formed small groups.


    The margraves of Ingmond stuck together, waiting for the arrival of their lord with their wives and children likewise forming circles of their own. None of the margraves under Vale was present, nor were the jarl and his family, which was expected. Neither of the jarls of Vale and Isarn had yed host to the other for many decades now. What was less expected was the absence of noblemen from Theodstan, northerners like Isarn. The jarl of Theodstan entered, however, nked by his sister and a few thanes.


    The jarl separated from his sister to sit in a corner with his hood pulled up. Bring the jarl a gon of ale, Theodwynmanded a nearby servant, indicating where the jarl was seated. Then she narrowed her eyes as she spotted someone, and with a few quick strides, she crossed the hall. Arndis, she said, a tad sharply, and the young woman turned around with an almost guilty look. While Theodwyn was wearing ck, Arndis had like most others in the room shed her clothes of mourning. She was exquisitely dressed in blue with a few discreet pieces of jewellery that entuated her natural beauty.


    I know you said it would be unseemly for me to arrive alone, unattended, Arndis mumbled, but I could not stay behind at the castle. It would be more unseemly if I were seen to snub Jarl Isarns invitation, she added hastily.


    It is not you he is interested in, I fear, Theodwyn said quietly before she spoke again in a louder voice. Well, since you are here, you can keep mepany, she added and took a firm grip on Arndis arm.


    The hall was overseen by some of the upper floors of the manor whose corridors acted as balconies. The jarl Isarn stood upon one of them, keeping his distance; it was too early for the host to enter. By his side stood Ulfrik, captain of his thanes, and the jarl sent him a nce. Are the men ready? Isenhart asked.


    Awaiting your word, Ulfrik confirmed. Though we should have dyed a few days. Brought in a few hundred more.


    Athelbold will arrive tomorrow should we need it, Isenhart said dismissively, returning his gaze to the hall below. Besides, in a few days the jarls might have left Middanhal and returned home.


    As you say, milord, Ulfrik conceded.


    Speaking of which, have they arrived?


    None of Theodstans vassals, I believe, Ulfrik said. But the man himself is sitting in the corner there.


    Drowning his sorrows these days, Isenhart said with scorn. Well, it does not matter. A jarl may act on behalf of his margraves if they are absent. Ingmond?


    Here as well, milord, Ulfrik said with satisfaction.


    The dragonlord?


    Awaiting your arrival at your table.


    Good, we can do it here. No need to drag people to the Citadel, Isenhart smiled. Time for the feast to begin. With those words, he left the upper floor and moved towards the entrance of the hall.


    Isenharts herald struck his staff in the ground a few times as his master entered the hall. My lords anddies, the jarl of Isarn bids you wee to his home, the herald announced.


    Indeed, Isenhart let his powerful voice ring clear through the hall. Wee to my halls. In these trying times that the gods have seen fit to make us endure, it is important to strengthen our bonds and remember what we have inmon, the jarl said smiling. And no better way than to do so with ample food and drink, he added, pping in his hands.


    Several doors burst open to let servants issue from them, carryingrge trays and tes of food. Ox and deer roast, cuts of pork and duck along with bowls of peas and beans, apples and wheat bread. As soon as the food had been ced, the servants left and returned swiftly with pitchers of wine and ale, ensuring all had something to drink. Please, eat, drink to your hearts content! the jarl told his guests and pped his hands again, which was the signal for a group of musicians to begin ying.


    Let us not disappoint our gracious host, Theodwyn said with a smile, leading Arndis to a seat and taking one herself while sending a stolen nce towards the nearby figure d in her brothers clothes.


    ~~~~


    Is the lord jarl well? Arndis asked concerned as the thanes from Theodstan stood watch around him, practically intimidating people who approached.


    Just feeling a little ufortable, Theodwyn said pleasantly, putting pieces of bread in her mouth. But he braved it and came tonight. As you said, cannot refuse an invitation from the jarl of Isarn.


    I see, Arndis replied, looking elsewhere. Is it not odd that Lady Isabel is missing? Supposedly this is in honour of her son.


    Perhaps thedy is perceptive enough to know this is about the jarl, Theodwyn said dryly.


    Jarl Vale and all his followers are missing as well, Arndis remarked as her gaze swept through the room.


    To be expected, Theodwyn replied. He and his kin would not set foot under Isenharts roof except to burn it.


    Such enmity, Arndis said quietly. I know nothing of the jarl of Vale except he has a reputation for being a hard man.


    He has, though mostly where numbers are concerned, I am told, Theodwyn exined. He is called the Bookkeeper, did you know? she added, which made Arndis giggle. In truth, I do not think the good jarl is as harsh as he would have his believe. His first wife died many years ago in childbirth, which is why he only has the daughter.


    I am not surprised you are well informed, Arndismented, which Theodwyn seemed to take as apliment.


    The story became interesting a few years ago, though, and it even reached us in Theodstan. See, one of the jarls vassals was on hard years and could not fulfil his duties. Pay for upkeep of certain outposts and the supply of men and arms, Order contributions and so on, Theodwyn continued. The vassal did, however, have two young, unwed daughters. The jarl therefore proposed a marriage between himself and the eldest daughter aspensation for the margraves failures. Of course the margrave could not refuse his liege, nor dared he set any bride price.


    However, Theodwyn said, her voice bing more excited as she reached the climax of the story, the jarl not only forgave his vassal the debts owed to himself and paid those owed to the Crown, he paid the margrave a bride price of fifty crowns. And rather than after the wedding night, Jarl Vale gave his bride her morning gift on the very evening of their wedding. A small chest containing another fifty crowns along with the choice that she might live in his castle, at her fathers castle, or spend the money to live alone in a house in Valcaster.


    That is quite a story, Arndis said, digesting it. Though I do not understand his reason for giving the morning gift before the wedding night. It is called a morning gift for a reason.


    So she had a choice before the wedding night, Theodwyn exined before an expression ran over her face. I forgot you are a littlemb. Never mind that, my dear.


    I suppose it is an interesting tale. Not to mention it highlights the jarls fabulous wealth, Arndis pointed out.


    It does indeed, which I suspect is why it spread so quickly, especially to the north. I do think it says something about the jarl. His brother, on the other hand Theodwyn mumbled, her voice trailing off.


    Oh, the veileddy is here tonight, it burst from Arndis as she spotted Eleanor. We saw her in the gardens, did we not?


    Indeed, Theodwyn eximed, she must be the same one. I posed a few discreet questions around court, and it turns out she is Lady Eleanor of Tothmor.


    Tothmor, Arndis said a little surprised. She is from Hthiod?


    And nothing more than a beorn or whatever they call it on the moors, Theodwyn borated. There is apparently a bit of a story behind her presence at court here in Middanhal.


    A story you no doubt have heard in full, Arndis said, hiding her expression by raising her cup of wine to her mouth.


    I did not want to brag, Theodwyn said modestly. She was the ward of Sir William of Tothmor. Yes, the very one who won the grand fight at solstice, Theodwyn exined, seeing Arndis about to ask. They arrived more than a decade ago when she was a child and he a newly minted knight. He has been away from time to time fighting for the Order, but she, Theodwyn said with a look towards Eleanor, she has simply been staying at court. Even though she is of age, she has yet to marry.


    She seems lonely, Arndis remarked, and indeed Eleanor sat alone as if her veil kept people at a distance.


    The truly interesting part is the veil, of course, Theodwyn said, leaning towards Arndis like one conspirator to another. They say something terrible happened to her family in Hthiod, which is why she became Sir Williams ward. Whatever tragedy it was, it left its marks upon her face.


    That is horrible, Arndis eximed.


    Tragic, yes, Theodwyn mumbled, stuffing more bread into her mouth.


    Should we talk to her? Arndis pondered.


    You think she would tell us? Theodwyn said with gleaming eyes.


    I do not think it would be appropriate to ask, Arndis said cautiously. But being alone at court is an unpleasant situation.


    Very well, Theodwyn said with a little sigh, wait here, my soft-heartedmb, and I will fetch one more for our herd.


    With those words, Theodwyn got up and crossed the hall to where Eleanor sat alone. Lady Eleanor, am I correct? she asked.


    I am, Eleanor said in surprise, looking up from behind her veil. But you have the advantage of me.


    I am Lady Theodwyn, sister to the jarl of Theodstan. Which means you should greet me standing, Theodwyn exined, though her voice was not unkind.


    I see, Eleanor said hesitantly, standing up to perform a little bow.


    Marvellous, Theodwyn added and took hold of Eleanors arm. Since you are already standing, you will not mind apanying me back to my table, will you? Without waiting for an answer, Theodwyn swept Eleanor away and returned to her own table; Eleanor was seated so that Theodwyn herself had Arndis on one side and Eleanor on the other. There we are, two littlembs, which makes me the shepherd, I suppose, Theodwyn considered. Fitting, considering nothing but sheep really lives in Theodstan.


    Lady Eleanor? I am Arndis of House Arnling, Arndis introduced herself. No need to get up for my sake, she added smiling as Eleanor was about to stand up to greet her.


    A pleasure, Eleanor said quietly. I am a little surprised you know me.


    Oh, I am aware of many people I never talk to, Theodwyn confided in her. But your dress is marvellous. Let me guess. Abrd?


    You are very perceptive, mydy, Eleanor acknowledged.


    Oh, I know, Theodwyn smiled.


    You are still wearing ck for the prince? Eleanor asked. While the entire nobility had worn ck during the days of sorrow, most had returned to their house colours after the burial; the exception was the twins of Theodstan, who always wore ck.


    Oh no, this is for my husband, Theodwyn exined.


    I am so sorry for your loss, Eleanor hurried to say. I did not mean to bring it up.


    No harm done, dear, Theodwyn assured her.


    Lady Theodwyn, I did not even know, Arndis said, her voice sounding slightly horrified.


    I never told you, Theodwyn shrugged. I do not like talking about such intimate affairs. Besides, my husband died many years ago.


    But you still wear ck? Eleanor asked bewildered.


    I still miss him, Theodwyn exined. He was the finest man in all of Theodstan. A terrible swordsman though, died in the first battle he ever fought. Suppose I was lucky he managed to stay away from fights until he was thirty-five.


    Does your brother wear ck for simr reasons? Arndis asked Theodwyn cautiously.


    No, he just thinks the colour makes him look imposing. Said something once about how a ruler should look fearsome. Honestly, I would say it makes him look dreadfully thin, Theodwyn said casually. Or what do you think? she asked of herpanions. Neither of them had anyments to share.


    ~~~~


    Leaving his guests, Isenhart walked out of the great hall and through corridors until he reached what constituted the backyard of his manor. There were storehouses, orchards, and vegetable gardens here, but a different sight met him now. Hundreds of soldiers stood in full arms, hidden between the buildings and the outer walls of thepound. In front stood Isenwald and Ulfrik.


    Where is Eumund? asked the jarl.


    Keeping out of sight, Ulfrik muttered. But I sent someone to fetch him, hell be here soon.


    Good, Isenhart nodded. It is nearlyst bell, but wait a brief while before you move out. We want cover of darkness.


    Will the guests not be leaving byst bell? Isenwald asked hesitantly, though not due to any speech impediment.


    I will return now and extend my permanent hospitality, Isenhart said with a predators smile. There he is, he added as Eumund joined them. He was, like his brother and the other men, wearing full armour.


    You know where to strike? Isenhart asked.


    Yes, it came from Eumund and Ulfrik. Yes, Isenwald said almost as swiftly.


    Good. Once you have taken Woolgate, send the rest of your men to reinforce Eumund at the Citadel, the jarl said to his eldest son.


    I will, Isenwald said quietly.


    Ulfrik, when Saltgate is safe in our hands, sweep through the eastern districts on your return. Kill any Vale soldiers youe across, but no need to hunt them. We will finish it tomorrow in due time.


    Yes, milord, the thane answered.


    But remember to pass by the Vale estate. You can kill those who resist, but I want the jarl alive. And his daughter for leverage, Isenhart specified, and Ulfrik nodded in consent. Good. Do not disappoint me, the jarl added with a nce towards his sons, particrly the eldest before he turned and walked back inside.


    Inside the hall, the festivities continued merrily. The margraves of Ingmond continued to remain huddled together along with the few southernndgraves who had epted the jarls invitation. The rest of the guests, northerners all, felt freer and were participating in the chain dance taking ce, all orchestrated by a bard. With the musicians apanying him, he sang the song to which the revellers tread their steps and joined in on the chorus. As the bard finished his verse, he took a bow to much cheer, and the mixture of dance and drink provoked faces red withughter and warmth.


    A delightful tune, Arn of Old, Theodwyn said, as the bard song ended. That must be pleasing to you, Arndis, she remarked.


    I suppose it is an honour, Arndis replied. She had remained seated during the dance when it had be clear that Eleanor would be.


    Of course, I forgot, Eleanor said. House Arnling, he was your ancestor.


    Be d my brother is not here to chastise you, Arndis said wryly.


    Forgive me, Eleanor added. I have been here for a long time, but at times I still forget the customs of Adalrik.


    In any case, I imagine our host chose this song because it features a jarl of Isarn, Theodwyn said with an insincere smile. I suppose when you pay the bard, you choose the song.


    Strange, it does not seem like the jarl is here, Arndis remarked. You would think he would want to hear the song.


    I think he is satisfied the rest of us shall hear it, Theodwyn said, still smiling as before.


    There he is, Eleanor told them as Isenhart returned to the great hall.


    The jarl of Isarn walked to the end of the hall that was elevatedpared to the rest, which held his own table and his most honoured guests. They were Sir Roderic, the dragonlord of the realm and its current ruler in the lord protectors absence, and the jarl of Ingmond, his wife, and their young son. The intention had also been for the jarl of Theodstan and his sister to be ced here, though they had chosen to sit elsewhere than at the high table. Isenhart raised his hands in the air tomand silence, and the mour ended. My lords anddies of Adalrik, it has been an utmost pleasure to be your host tonight, Isenhart said.


    I hate this part where they have to spout all these empty courtesies and titudes, Eleanor sighed.


    I think this one will be different, Theodwyn mumbled tight-lipped.


    While there needs no special asion to have a feast, tonight was held for a specific reason. It was intended to honour the memory of not only Prince Sigmund but the House of Adal that has ruled this realm since its beginning. The mood turned sombre at the mentioning of the dead prince, and the atmosphere of mirth and revelry evaporated.


    But, Isenhart continued, it is not the end of the realm. As enemies threaten us abroad, so it is important we stand united within. We need a strong ruler around whom not only Adalrik but all the realms of Adalmearc can unite behind and follow. This turn in the jarls speech bred some unrest; the eyes of many darted towards Sir Roderic. The knight sat restless as if about to stand, but he did not follow through.


    What is this about? growled Ingmond instead, slowly rising from his seat.


    As jarls, we have a responsibility to ensure the realms safety, Isenhart said loudly. Keep it from being torn asunder by lesser men or falling to heel at those unworthy. Decisive action must be taken.


    I have heard enough, Ingmond dered and gestured for his family, his thanes, and vassals in his following to leave.


    Not yet, Isenhart spoke in amanding tone and pped his hands. Along the upper floors and balconies, archers stepped forward with arrows on their bowstrings. From the many doors issued forth soldiers wearing the surcoat of Isarn.


    You dare break the sanctity of hospitality? Ingmond said in a thundering voice, and several of his thanes drew their swords. Isenhart made a quick gesture with his hand, and arrows struck those down who had drawn weapons. With this irrevocable proof that the jarl had no qualms about killing guests under his roof, the other thanes and noblemen were quickly discouraged from following their example, and they kept their weapons sheathed.


    I dare, Isenhart said. Remove your swords and disarm yourselves or my archers continue their work.


    The gods will curse you for this, Ingmond spat even as he unbuckled his sword belt and threw it on the table before him with a loud sh.


    Then I shall be the source of my own reward, Isenhart smiled as his soldiers collected weapons from his guests until all were disarmed. Now there are two documents we will sign. The first pertains to you, Sir Roderic, Isenhart continued. As dragonlord, you have the power to convene the Adalthing under extraordinary circumstances. Such as theck of an heir to the throne.


    Isenhart pped his hands again, and a servant entered with a tray. Upon ity two pieces of parchment, as well as a quill, an inkwell, and red wax. Sir Roderic will sign this document, which calls for a special assembly of the Adalthing. An assembly that will be held here and now, the jarl continued, looking around the room. And then every man in this room who has a voice in the Thing will sign the other document. It deres by the power of the Adalthing that the jarl Isenhart of Isarn is heir to the throne of Adalrik.

 Chapter 17: Night of the Knife

    Chapter 17: Night of the Knife


    Night of the Knife


    Middanhal


    A stunned silence followed the audacity disyed by the jarl Isarn at this promation. This will not stand, Ingmond finally said furiously. Firstly, the Adalthing must meet in the hall in the Citadel.


    Merely a formality. These documents with the correct signatures will serve, Isenhart retorted.


    Furthermore, Ingmond roared, there is not a majority present in this hall.


    While the lords of Theodstan are absent, their jarl is not. As their liege and in their absence, Theodoric has the power to sign on their behalf, Isenhart smiled towards the ck-d man standing near Theodwyn.


    Lastly, Ingmond continued undeterred, this is uwful at every level! Forcing the Adalthing weapon in hand undermines the very foundation of the realm! This will not stand, Ingmond shouted, this will not stand! The Order, Jarl Vale


    Jarl Vale will fall to heel, Isenhart interrupted, now shouting as well. As will the Order, as will the rest of you! Unless you wish to have the blood of your children, your families on your hands.


    You would not dare, Ingmond said, his voice growing feeble.


    I believe I have already made it clear how far I am willing to go, Isenhart said with gritted teeth. As we speak, my soldiers are taking over the city. By morning, I will control Middanhal and the realm. Resisting now will only get you killed. Now, no further dy, he said and turned towards Sir Roderic. Sign it.


    Do not do it, came a calm insistence from Theodwyn, which made eyes turn towards her. He is a madman who will fall sooner orter. The more we resist, the faster it will be.


    Isenhart made no reply but drew his sword and ced it over the knight marshals shoulder so its tip was by his throat.


    Do not sign it, Theodwyn repeated. You are the only man whose signature can legalise that document. Without it, nothing can lend credence to this petty revolt.


    Silence! Isenhart eximed and pressed his sword edge into the skin on Roderics throat. Swallowing, the knight took the quill, dipped it in ink, and signed the authorisation of an extraordinary assembly of the Adalthing. Moving around Roderic but keeping his sword on the knights neck, Isenhart moved a lit candle closer. He melted some wax onto the document, grabbed Roderics hand, and pressed the si of the dragonlord into the wax.


    Coward, Theodwyn sneered. It were better you had died for the realm, she imed, to which the knight said nothing.


    Now, Isenhart said, rather than the tedious process of counting voices, I have made it simple. This document, the jarl gestured to the other parchment on the tray, deres me heir to the throne. Your signature in presence of witnesses will suffice in lieu of a formal counting.


    Your n has failed, Theodwyn said smiling, there is not a majority present tonight. Even if every member here of the Adalthing signs, it will not suffice.


    We have covered this, Isenhart said impatiently. I do not need thirty-five members present. Your brother will sign for the seven margraves of Theodstan and that will suffice.


    Holebert, Theodwyn said, turning towards the man wearing her brothers clothes. Will you stand up and remove your gloves? Let everyone see how many fingers you have on your hands.


    The hall fell silent as Holebert did asmanded. Pulling off his gloves, it was clear to see he had ten fingers.


    While I consider my brothers ekename to be vulgar, it is useful that he is known as Fourfinger, Theodwyn said with cold triumph. This is yourst chance, Isenhart. Abandon this fool scheme, resign your title to your son, and beg the Adalthing not to demand your head.


    It is toote to turn back, Isenhart muttered. Your deception is meaningless. Soon Vale will be brought to me to witness my victory. It will be even more satisfying when it is his submission that seals my ascendance, the jarl imed. Keep them under guard. Kill any who attempt to flee, he told his soldiers as he left the hall.


    ~~~~


    With nightfall arriving, the soldiers of Isarn left the manor. One group detached themselves under Ulfrik and went south while the rest moved west under Isenwald and Eumund. There was silence among the men except for a nervous whisper on asion. The streets were empty, and none questioned the ranks of soldiers marching forward. Finally, they approached the Citadel where ity close to the northern gate. Meet you soon, Brother, Eumund said in farewell to Isenwald, who nodded to his younger sibling. They parted ways, each followed by his lot of soldiers.


    Isenwald went straight north towards the Woolgate. There was perhaps a score of men guarding it as well as a small number patrolling the walls. Moonlight illuminated the street, and eventually their approach towards the gate could not be concealed. It did not matter either; they were at least three times as many as the guards, and the fortifications were only intended to protect against assault from the outside. It offered very little when the attackers could walk right up on the walls.


    With a nervous hand, Isenwald drew his sword. Who goes there? yelled a voice as one of the guards spotted the oing soldiers. Wait, what is this  came the same voice, breaking off in realisation of the truth. To arms, to arms!


    I am sorry, Isenwald mumbled, too low for any to hear. He ran forward, followed by his men. Some of the Isarn soldiers split off to rush up the stairs and onto the walls, whereas Isenwald continued straight ahead for the soldiers guarding the gate. One of them lowered his spear and stabbed at Isenwald, who turned the spear aside with his de and embedded its tip in the guards armpit. He pulled out the sword, ncing at the red liquid that now hung to it before he turned his eyes to look for his next opponent, but the other guards at the gate had already been ughtered.


    Exhaling and calming himself a bit, Isenwald walked up the stairs to the wall. He could hear the sounds of battle and death as a disjointed symphony, constantly breaking away before it again tore the night sky apart. By his feety Order soldiers dead along with a few wearing the coat of Isarn.


    One of his fathers thanes came out of the tower by the gate onto the wall and moved over to Isenwald when he spotted him. Its ours, milord, he said. Barely any resistance.


    When you have swept the walls, set up a new watch, Isenwaldmanded him. Any soldiers to spare, send  them to reinforce my brother at the Citadel.


    Very good, milord, the thane nodded in acquiescence. Will you require an escort?


    Isenwald nced around and shook his head. The thane saluted him and barked orders while Isenwald slowly walked down from the wall. He went back the same way he had just followed here except now he was alone. In his right hand, he still held his bloodied sword, almost dragging it behind him. As he came further east into the city, he was within earshot of more screams; Vale soldiers were being cornered and killed by the warehouses and buildings they guarded. Tonight, Isarns knife ruled over Middanhal.


    ~~~~


    No longer a young man, Quill did not always sleep through the night, and he often woke easily. Thus, when distant sounds woke him this particr night, he remained in bed at first, waiting to fall asleep again. When that did not happen, he got up and fetched some water to drink. It was only when he moved out of his bedroom that he heard further sounds and became aware something was afoot. He walked over to the window, which overlooked the southern courtyard; yet not a shadow stirred, and it told him nothing. Only sounds reached him, mumbled and dampened, incoherent.


    Grabbing thetch, Quill pushed the window open, and finally he could hear what had wakened him, the sound of metal shing against metal, men yelling in fury or screaming in pain. It came from the northern courtyard, hidden from his sight but not his hearing. Almost as an instinctive jerk, Quill pulled the window back andtched it shut. It muted the sounds, giving Quill a moment to think.


    Turning away from the window, his eyes fell on the heavy door in the other end of the library hall. He hesitated briefly; then he went to his room and put his robe atop his nightshirt. After that, he gathered what speed he could muster and hastened out of the library tower.


    Down in the kitchens, the sounds of battle had reached the servants in their living quarters as well. All were awake, though they reacted in different ways. Some of the servants left their rooms; others barricaded themselves inside and hid under beds or in closets. In onerge room were all the kitchen girls, about a dozen or so. The youngest was around ten, the oldest sixteen. The smallest girls were hiding under their covers, while a few others were sitting and holding each other closely. Some were crying, some could not speak. Kate stood against the wall opposite the door with a small knife in her hand. Her eyes were focused on the door, which could not be locked.


    Suddenly somebody pushed against the door, and the shock sent more of the girls into tears. All eyes in the room became fixed on the doorway as the door creaked open. It finally revealed the person behind to be Quill. Kate! he yelled over the noise of frightened kitchen girls. She dropped her knife in relief, moved forward, turned back, and picked it up again before finally rushing over to Quill by the door.


    Why are you here? Kate asked breathlessly.


    Came to get you, Quill said. Go! Kate stood indecisively, turning back to look at the other girls. Quill did likewise, his gaze sweeping over the room. Very well, all of you! With me, now! he shouted, which seemed to snap the girls out of their stupor. The eldest girls grabbed the youngest, sometimes pulling them out from underneath the beds, and they all ran after Quill as he led them away.


    He took them through the corridors of the castle until they reached the south-western part. It was empty; although the kingthanes lived here, they were all gone. Quill hastened up the stairs, followed by the girls, until he reached his tower. Once all were inside, he pushed the great door shut and locked it, turning its heavy key slowly in the creaking lock. That door was built to withstand fire and axes, Quill said, panting. We will be safe here, he added with only a sliver of doubt creeping into his voice.


    Once inside the tower, the girls responded to the situation in a variety of ways. Some sumbed to fear once more, sitting down on the floor and curling up, while some of the others attempted tofort them. Some sumbed to curiosity, having never seen books before. They touched the leather spines cautiously and nced over the letters that to them were as mysterious as Dwarven runes. Quill walked over to the window, gazing out over the southern courtyard, which still showed no movement. After scolding a few girls for touching the books, Kate joined him. Why did youe for me, Master Quill? she asked.


    You are my apprentice. Of sorts, Quill added, giving her a vague smile. I know what happens to girls when castles fall. I do not know what is happening tonight, but no reason to take chances.


    You dont know who is fighting?


    Quill shook his head. No. But I suspect the noblemen, the jarls, are at each others throats. And the rest of us suffer for it.


    Kate was quiet a moment and then steered the conversation a step back. Why did you offer to teach me how to read? Its not something kitchen girls really need.


    And Egil said you were not a curious type, Quill replied with another vague smile. I suppose it was because  it is a littleplicated. You see, when I arrived in this city, I was younger than you were. A friend brought me here, picked me up from the streets of Alczar, where I lived as an orphan. I know very little of him, but I owe him everything, Quill said, his eyes turning distant with memory. He saw something in me. Said I was a good soul, Quill added with a smile born of remembrance. He delivered me here to be an apprentice to the old Quill. Gave me a home and a trade. And eventually I seeded my master.


    Quill turned to nce back into the hall and the tower. This tower was built secluded, not only to withstand fire and destruction, but also to offer the Kings Quill solitude for his work. And it can be very solitary, Quill said to Kate, turning to look out the window again. When I took on Egil as my apprentice, I did as much for thepany. And I suppose with him gone these days I felt alone again. Quills expression and eyes became present again, and he turned his head quickly to look at Kate. There you have it, a very long answer to a short question.


    I expected nothing else, master, Kate said, managing a smile before it faded again. Will everything be well when morninges?


    I do not know, Quill admitted, cing a hand on her shoulder forfort. I do not know.


    ~~~~


    After having left the hall, Isenhart paced around in the courtyard as he waited for his returning soldiers. The first of these was Isenwald. The jarl frowned at seeing his son arriving unapanied and walked over him. Isenwald, youe alone? Isenhart asked with a dubious expression.


    When the gate was taken  I sent the remainder  of my men to Eumund, Isenwald exined. As you instructed.


    I see your sword has had work tonight, Isenhart proimed, noticing the blood upon his sons de. Well done, my son, the jarl said, pping a heavy hand onto Isenwalds shoulder. I knew you would prove tempered when your mettle was tested. Isenwald did not reply but merely cleaned his de on his surcoat before he sheathed it.


    Briefly after, Ulfrik joined them along with a cadre of his men. The southern gate is yours, milord, he told the jarl with a grin, as is the city.


    Where are your prisoners? Isenhart asked with a furrowed brow.


    The thanes smile disappeared. They were gone, milord. No trace of the jarl or his family.


    You mean they escaped your grasp? Isenhart said with increasing ire.


    No, milord, Ulfrik hastened to say. We searched their house thoroughly. All the servants said the same thing. The jarl and his family left the city earlier today.


    How can the fates torment me so? My victory, his defeat so close within reach! Isenhart eximed furiously while Isenwald carefully maintained a nk expression. I needed Vale to have the Adalthing under my control!


    There are the other jarls, milord, and thendgraves? Ulfrik said questioningly.


    A deception, Isenhart said through gritted teeth. Theodstan was never here but sent a servant in disguise.


    Then he is most likely at the Citadel, Ulfrik spoke, as well as other noblemen of the Adalthing. We will bring them here in chains, and they will sign the document along with the others.


    Yes, Isenhart said, calming down. Yes, of course. This is but a respite for Vale, he said, his serenity quickly evaporating as he spoke again. All the insults he has paid me, the times he has thwarted me, this silkworm upstart, this garlic-stinking southerner, he will bow to me in the end! the jarl eximed.


    Before Isenhart could continue his diatribe, his youngest son returned. Whereas both Isenwald and Ulfrik bore few marks of battle save the blood of other people, Eumund had taken numerous cuts and seemed battle worn. He walked without difficulty, however, and showed no signs that his injuries hindered him. Like Ulfrik, he walked in with a small group of his men behind him.


    My son returns, Isenhart said triumphantly. A hard battle fought, by the looks of you, but for a great prize as well, the jarl said. However, Eumund shook his head as he came closer.


    It went wrong, his son dered, slightly out of breath.


    Speak, Isenhartmanded with narrowing eyes.


    Our man opened the gate as agreed, and we took the courtyard with ease, killing the few guards. But as the rm was raised, we found ourselves fighting far more men than we should have, Eumund said bitterly. Then the kingthanes joined the fight and tore through our ranks. We were pushed back into the courtyard. I had to call a retreat or lose all my men. I have set a watch around the castle to keep them from sallying out.


    I did not think it would be you who disappointed me, the jarl said with a sneer.


    I did what I could! No man could win against such odds, Eumund argued.


    You lost because of overwhelming numbers, Isenhart said scornfully. The excuse of the inept.


    It is no excuse! Eumund said with a re of his fathers temper before it subsided again. We should have fought a few scores, but they had hundreds defending the keep!


    Then where did these mysterious extra forcese from? asked Isenhart with further disdain.


    Maybe, Isenwald inserted cautiously, it was the regiments bound for Lake Myr. Do we know  if  they actually left?


    His question evoked silence from the others as gazes shifting me were exchanged. Why would they be dyed? asked the jarl with a shrug, though his voice was less assured.


    Why did we not make sure? Why did we not wait a few more days? Eumund demanded to know.


    Two jarls have already slipped from my grasp! Isenhart eximed. Time was against us. It still is, the jarl added with dismay creeping into his voice.


    Two jarls? Eumund said quietly to his brother.


    Both Jarl Vale and Theodstan escaped Fathers  iron fist, Isenwald told him with a lowered voice.


    We needed the Citadel, Isenhart said, as much to himself as others. I needed the noblemen to dere me king. I will have it, one way or the other, he swore and turned to one of his thanes. Go to the Temple, he ordered the warrior, wake the Highfather and tell him he is to crown a king tomorrow. He turned to the captain of his thanes. Ulfrik, with me, the jarlmanded.


    With swift steps and followed by Ulfrik as well as his sons, Isenhart returned inside and went to the great hall. The scene was as he left it; his soldiers stood guard over the many men, women, and children, who sat or stood in disys of fear, defiance, anger, or a mixture of all. Isenhart walked straight over to the high table, where the dragonlord Roderic was seated under the watchful gaze of two soldiers. Grab him and bring him, Isenhart told Ulfrik, who did as bid.


    Where are you taking me? Roderic demanded to know.


    The Citadel, Isenhart said without looking back. You are going to be my key.


    ~~~~


    Thest twilight of the evening was long gone when Jarl Isarn approached the gate of the Citadel. He was apanied by many of his thanes and men, his kinsmen, and Sir Roderic, held in a firm grasp by Ulfrik. Soldiers upon the castle walls readied themselves and shouted cries of rm as they noticed the oing group. Isenhart beckoned his men to keep a distance, however, and yelled for the defenders to bring Captain Theobald out for negotiations.


    It took a while to carry the message; meanwhile more soldiers lined the walls, keeping sharp eyes on the soldiers of Isarn. Finally and with uneven steps, the captain of the city guard andmander of the Citadel walked up the stairs. Each pressure exerted on his right leg made it falter a bit, but atst, his face appeared between the crions. By his side stood men with spears and archers as well as the knightmander of the remaining regiments.


    What do you want, Isarn? yelled the captain. He was not particrly tall, especially since his leg meant he could not stand fully upright, and so little more than his head was visible on the battlement.


    Open the gate, and you have my word that none further shall die, Isenhart shouted back.


    Upon your honour? asked the captain.


    Upon my honour, Isenhart swore.


    The same honour that is now tainted by the blood of my men? By this vile, cowardly assault in the dead of night? I spit on your honour, Isarn, the captain proimed and proceeded to spit over the wall.


    I see that I must make threats as well, Isenhart retorted and beckoned Ulfrik to step forward. The imposing thane brought Roderic with him, still keeping him in an iron grip; when the knight marshal was visible to the defenders, Ulfrik forced him down on his knees. Open the gates or your leader suffers, Isenhart said.


    Go ahead, shouted the captain.


    Isenhart blinked in surprise. Perhaps you need to be convinced of my sincerity, the jarl said through gritted teeth. Ulfrik, take his left hand.


    By the gods, Theobald, open the gates! yelled Roderic before Ulfrik pushed him to the ground, t on his belly. The thane ced one heavy foot on Roderics left arm, keeping the knight in ce while drawing his great battle axe from his back.


    Last chance, Isenhart warned.


    Father, Eumund, began but he was silenced by a raised hand from the jarl.


    Do not dy on my ount, Theobald yelled back.


    Are you mad! Roderic began to shout, but it turned into a scream as Ulfrik swung his axe. A momentter, blood poured out of the stump.


    Open the gate, captain, or I take his other hand, Isenhart threatened.


    Go ahead, the captain replied casually. With a furious look, Isenhart gestured to Ulfrik who swiftly repeated his act on Roderics right hand.


    Theobald, I will have your head for this! screamed the knight marshal. Open the gate, man!


    Yourmander has given you a direct order, captain, said Isenhart through gritted teeth.


    Like he did when he told all my men to march out of the city? Theobald asked spitefully.


    His hands are gone, his head is next! Isenhart eximed while Ulfrik ced the axe ready at the neck.


    Father, you are going too far, Isenwald tried to intercede, but his father was deaf to his objections.


    Another treasonous act to add to your tally, Theobald scorned him.


    Last chance, Isenhart warned. Open the gate or see him dead.


    Isarn, I will see everyst man in this castle dead before I let you step one foot inside! the captain swore to the jarl.


    Clenching his hands in anger, Isenhart nodded to Ulfrik. With one swing of the axe, the knight marshals head was separated from his shoulders.


    These negotiations are over, Theobald shouted. Archers, shoot at will! Kill as many of these treacherous dogs as you can! Hismand seemed to catch everybody by surprise, including his own archers. They quickly recovered, however, and readied arrows. On the ground, the jarl and his followers had to rush away from the open area around the castle, followed by projectiles until they could take cover.


    You killed the knight marshal, Eumund said a tone of disbelief, the dragonlord of the realm!


    He was of no use to us anymore, Isenhart sneered. Back to the house, he added while the defenders shouted and cheered at the sight of the retreating Isarn soldiers.


    ~~~~


    Returning to the manor, the jarl stormed inside while his sons and thanes struggled to keep up. He burst into the great hall where he would usually sit by the high table when taking counsel. However, a host of bewildered or frightened eyes turned towards him, prisoners and guards alike. I forgot they were here, Isenhart mumbled and turned to his steward. Get these people locked up somewhere, he ordered his servant.


    But where, milord? asked the steward nervously. There are hundreds of them.


    Then throw them in the stables, or in the courtyard, or your own room, just do it! the jarl roared. The steward bowed his head and began to issuemands to the guards.


    Have your ns failed, Isenhart? yelled Theodwyn. Arndis and Eleanor tried to hold her back, tried to silence her, but she stepped forward fearlessly. How long must this go on before you realise it is futile?


    Be silent, woman, Isenhart said savagely, and his own men and sons instinctively shied away. I killed Roderic, and you will be next! A shock went through the crowd upon hearing that the dragonlord and knight marshal was dead, and the jarl of Ingmond sank down into his seat.


    I will not be silent! Theodwyn replied with fury to equal Isenharts. You are tearing the realm apart at a time when we are most vulnerable, she all but spat into his face. If none other will tell you the truth, you shall hear it from me. Abandon your mad plots, Isenhart, before the city and thend burn with you.


    Rather than reply, Isenhart struck Theodwyn across the face with the back of his hand. He hit with such force it drew blood from the corner of her mouth, but she did not flinch or stagger; instead she turned back to face him with eyes gleaming. Wiping the blood from her hand, she held it high. Behold the man who would be king! she shouted around the hall. Witness how he strikes an unarmed woman. How far must this go before you will awaken and resist? she challenged, but nobody replied. The bodies of the in thanes who had attempted to fight still littered the hall.


    Seeing that Theodwyn stood alone, Isenhart gave a sneering smile and turned around. To my study instead, the jarl said to his sons and Ulfrik, who followed him there.


    Once inside the room, Isenhart poured a drink of brandy and sat down in his chair, taking a heavy sip. None of his sons or the thane spoke. What a night, Isenhart finally said, raising one hand to his brow. We will have to wait until Athelbold arrives with the forces we need to storm the Citadel.


    Perhaps we should reconsider that, Eumund said cautiously. The defenders are prepared and it will be very costly to scale the walls.


    We have the men, Isenhart said dismissively. I want the city fully under my control.


    Before Eumund could object again, a thane arrived, the one who had been sent to the Temple. Milord, the warrior bowed before the jarl. I bring word from the Highfather, he said hesitantly.


    Yes? Speak, is he prepared to crown me?


    The Highfather said to tell you, the thane spoke slowly, that he can only crown an heir acknowledged by the Adalthing. Until that happens, the crown shall continue to rest in the Crypt of Kings and may not be brought to the Temple for coronation. His message finished, the soldier carefully backed away several steps.


    Even the priests disobey me! the jarl said, standing up and spilling his drink. Perhaps the high priest will be more amodating with a spear against his back!


    You do not mean that, Eumund said appalled.


    Father  that  is sphemy, Isenwald protested.


    I do not intend to harm him, Isenhart replied, merely add some forceful persuasion. The Adalthing, the captain, the Citadel, they can all rot. If the Highfather ces the crown on my head on the Temple stairs in full view of the people, I am king! Regardless of how willingly he crowns me, the jarl imed.


    Father, the Highfather has fifty Temrs guarding him, Eumund pointed out.


    Fifty? Isenhart eximed in disbelief. Why on earth does he have that many surrounding him?


    To protect him against exactly what you wish to do, Eumund exined.


    We have plenty of men. Fifty knights will not stop me, Isenhart dered.


    Father, they are not merely knights, they are Temrs. It is their sacred duty to defend that building, which they know inside and out. Fighting in small corridors on their terrain, Temrs against our men, it will be a ughter, Eumund cautioned. We will lose twenty men for every Temr before it is through.


    Hes right, Ulfrik muttered with a growl, it will cost us a lot.


    So? Isenhart countered. If it makes me king, who cares for the cost?


    Father, the Temple halls will run red with blood. The entire city will witness your men attacking the holiest of holies, dragging the Highfather out, viting all that is sanctified, Eumund exined patiently. And what if the Highfather still refuses as Captain Theobald did? Will you kill him as well while all watch?


    Then we must take the Citadel, Isenhart dered frustrated, convene the Adalthing, and make it acknowledge me as heir.


    Father, Vale has escaped. That is where our focus must be. It does not matter what the Adalthing says or for that matter the high priest. Vale will raise the South against us. The crown, the Adalthing, they are formalities at this stage, Eumund continued his exnation. Tonight hinged upon capturing the jarls, the noblemen, forcing them to recognise you. With Vale gone, that has failed. This can now only end in war.


    A short silence followed Eumunds deration while they digested his words. Your son is right, my lord, Ulfrik said in his deep voice. Vale will never ept you as king unless theres an axe against his neck. He will fight while he can. We have a war on our hands, and we cannot waste soldiers attacking the Temple or the Citadel.


    Should I simply ept the Citadel is in hostile hands? argued Isenhart with a sneer.


    No, Eumund said, patiently once more, but we need proper siege equipment to take it, and we need far more troops. The army that Athelbold brings, it must be used to strike south. Before Vale can muster his own army.


    What  of the  Order? asked Isenwald suddenly, and the breach of his silence made everyone look at him bewildered before they grasped his words. If thest regiments never left Middanhal, they will realise something went wrong when they  do not arrive at Lake Myr.


    Isenwald is right, Eumund nodded. And we could use Athelstan.


    So what is it you want done? asked Isenhart of his youngest son.


    Let me take Athelbolds army south. I will get Athelstan and rout the Order army while it still lies in camp. Then I turn west and invade Vale before he can take action, Eumund exined.


    That army is several thousand strong, Isenhart argued. Are you confident that you can defeat the Order and face Vale afterwards?


    The Order army is not suspecting an attack. With Athelstan returning to our side, itsmander disappeared, that army will be in disarray, Eumund countered. I do not fear Vale either if Athelstan leads our forces. Numbers are inconsequential. Swift and decisive action is our best ally, the young knight dered.


    Must you fight the  Order? asked Isenwald. If they are under Unclesmand, maybe It feels wrong to attack the  Order, he said as his voice grew distant.


    You heard Captain Theobalds stubborn refusal, not to mention we decapitated the knight marshal, Eumund said, shaking his head. Until this war is won, the Order is our enemy. We must make a swift attack and destroy them before they realise what we have done, before they can be rallied against us, Eumund argued.


    But Uncle  is there, Isenwald argued. Send him a message, tell him to march the army at  once to Hthiod.


    What if Vale has sent a message that arrives first? Eumund said in rejection of Isenwalds argument. Or Theodstan? Sir Richard is his vassal, and hemands the army along with Athelstan. Eumund turned to his father. We must destroy the Order forces. Let me take Ingmond along as my prisoner, and then we can extort supplies from his province with him as leverage. Afterwards, Athelstan and I will go west and crush Vale.


    Very well, Isenhart said, looking around at the others in the room. Carry out your n, Eumund. I will go north and muster our remaining levies. I will convince thendgraves to join us and return with the forces to put that arrogant captains head on a spike. Isenwald, the jarl continued, and his eldest son snapped to attention. I leave you in charge of the city. Strengthen our grip and keep sharp watch over the Citadel that they do not attempt anything.


    It took the jarls son a moment to answer. I shall, Father, Isenwald promised, though his expressioncked determination.


    Ulfrik will remain by your side to counsel you, the jarl added. Do not hesitate to kill the prisoners if the need arises, he said to the captain of his thane, and the imposing man grumbled in acquiescence.


    The men dispersed except for Isenwald, who lingered. Looking out the window, he could see the noblemen, their families, and their disarmed thanes being dragged out into the courtyard. Although Isenwald could not see that far, he gazed north towards where his fathers cousin Athelbold was leading an Isarn army towards Middanhal. There was faint sunlight illuminating the cityndscape and the courtyard below as the long night had finally reached its end. It was the dawn of a new day, the dawn of war.

 Chapter 18: Ember and Ash

    Chapter 18: Ember and Ash


    Ember and Ash


    Lake Myr


    Two days after the jarl of Isarns feast, the Order army at Lake Myr was nearly ready for departure. Troops, weapons, and supplies had arrived from all over Adalrik as well as Ealond to the west, and the more seasoned among the veterans and the men-at-arms had been drilling the newly conscripted soldiers. Nichs from Tothmor was in a different situation being an archer. While any peasant or man off the street could be given a spear and a shield and taught to stand in formation, archers had usually learned the art before being hired by the Order. The closebat soldiers needed to learn to fight as a unit and thus required extensive drilling together, the archers simply needed to be able to shoot their arrows fast enough to keep up the volleys. They had also been given short swords and thick, woollen gambesons in case they ever came into closebat, but they had not been ordered to practice with them.


    Therefore, Nichs and the other archers trained on their own, ording to their own desires. A knight was assigned tomand them, naturally, but sincemanding archers was considered the least honourable position on the field, he had shown very little interest in overseeing their practice or otherwise issuing orders.


    Thus left to his own devices, Nichs had soughtpany with a group of other longbowmen, all from Hthiod like himself. They had spent their mornings and afternoons outside of camp on the nearby fields, practising their craft against trees and fence posts or holdingpetitions to see who the better archer was. Seven arrows before the first fell, Nichs smiled to one of the others. Id like to see you do better, Tom.


    And you shall, answered Tom, who was as tall and burly as his name was short. Ill show you city folk what a real archer can do, he promised. Taking out eight arrows, he stuck them into the ground. He pulled his bowstring back and forth a few times, checking the tensile strength. Then he swiftly shot the arrows one after the other high into the air. Before the first touched ground again, the remaining had all been shot. And there you have it, Tom smiled. Should have been me at that tournament, but I didnt have the silver to pay forpeting.


    Not bad, Nichs admitted. Though if you had shot with that kind of loose aim at the Temple square, youd have killed as many people as you sent off arrows.


    Did you really get robbed afterwards? asked a third archer, sitting nearby to observe thepetition.


    Clobbered me right in the head, Nichs confirmed, touching the spot on the back of his head.


    Damn shame about losing that figurine, Tom said.


    Not to mention my silver, Nichs said longingly. Though not all of it. Never put all your salt in one jar as my father told me.


    You want to try again? Tom said grinning, nodding towards the field where their arrowsy scattered.


    Whats the point of this game, said the third archer sourly. We arent going to shoot more than six arrows in the course of sixty breaths. Six arrows in the blink of an eye is useless to do.


    The point, Quentin, Tom said patiently, is to show these city-bred folks that you cant beat a farm-born in archery.


    While Tomughed and Quentin shook his head, Nichs turned his eyes towards the north. Lake Myry by the Kingsroad on its way south from Middanhal before it made a sharp bent east towards Inghold in the province of Ingmond. Coming down that same road was a band of riders riding hard, making the dust of the road swirl around them. With his sharp eyes, Nichs could see the man in front wearing ck, but there were no house colours on any of their cloaks or surcoats. The other archers followed Nichs gaze, narrowing their eyes to see.


    Whats the matter? asked Tom.


    Its nothing, just messengers probably, Quentin brushed it off.


    Messengers dont ride in a group like that, argued Tom.


    Lets get our arrows, Nichs said, breaking away from the sight. Get back to camp. In the distance, the riders approached the Order camp; had the archers been closer, they might have spotted that the rider in front had only four fingers on his left hand.


    ~~~~


    The Order encampment at Lake Myr was spread out over arge area since it was not camped in hostile territory. Thus, the tents were allowed to stand further apart, no trenches had been dug and no stockade raised, and the men were not required to wear their mail shirts at all times. There were hundreds ofrge tents raised to house the soldiers, ten of them living together, while there were a couple of smaller tents for the knights and their squires or sergeants. Considering only two lived in them, however, these smaller tents seemed far more spacious.


    In the western part of the camp stood Sir Richard of Alwoods tent, whereas Sir Athelstan of Isarns was in the eastern part. This was an old rule that the leaders of an army should not sleep too closely to each other in case the camp was attacked at night and themanders were targeted. This also meant both parts of the camp had amander nearby to take charge in the event of such a cowardly attack.


    Athelstan was pacing in his tent, asionally stopping to look out before he resumed walking back and forth. When Brand walked in, the knight quickly turned to face him. So? asked Athelstan a little impatiently.


    No sign, Brand shook his head. But perhaps it is only a slight dy. They could be here by eventide.


    Perhaps, Athelstan said doubtfully. Still, we should have heard word at least.


    If not tonight, I am sure thest regiments will be here tomorrow, Brand told him.


    I suppose, Athelstan said, still pacing a bit.


    You seem disturbed, Brand said frowning. Is there any reason for concern?


    No, no, Athelstan assured him. But we will not dy further. If we break camp now, we will have some hours of daylight.


    Break camp? Brand said bewildered. It will be a few hours at most.


    I am aware. Tell Sir Richard, Athelstanmanded and then changed his mind. No, I will, he can be stubborn. Spread the word to the men. I want us ready to march at soon as it is possible.


    As you say, Brand replied, confused but obedient.


    Having made his decision, Athelstan marched out of the tent and across the camp. Before he reached Richard, however, his attention was caught by a small group of riders entering. They did not wear the surcoat of the Order, and as they approached, Athelstan could recognise the rider in front. My lord jarl, Athelstan called out to Theodoric. I did not expect to see you here.


    I have business with Sir Richard, said the jarl curtly.


    Of course, Athelstan nodded. Have youe from Middanhal? he quickly asked before Theodoric could ride on.


    I have, Theodoric answered, not borating.


    How long ago did you leave? You must have ridden hard by the looks of your horses.


    Some days ago, Theodoric replied shortly. Now I must be away, he added, and Athelstan silently stepped back, gesturing with his hand for the jarl to continue. As soon as Theodoric and his thanes rode past him, Athelstan turned on his heel and walked away with quick steps.


    Returning to his tent, Athelstan found Brand had begun to pack his belongings. His squire cast him a curious nce seeing him return so soon but did not speak; the knight in turn frowned in thought. I just saw the jarl of Theodstan here, Athelstan spoke before his voice faltered.


    Odd. I wonder what would bring him here, Brand said absentmindedly, his attention on his possessions.


    Strange he is not in Middanhal for my brothers feast, Athelstan continued. He must have left just prior.


    I suppose, Brand answered without turning around.


    Going to see Sir Richard what could he have to speak with Richard about? Athelstan asked.


    Richard is his vassal, correct? Brand said, still not looking behind. Perhaps some internal matter.


    Perhaps, Athelstan said, his expression growing dismayed. But I think not. I waited too long, it seems.


    Hisst words made Brand finally turn around. Sir Athelstan, is something the matter? he asked in a hesitant voice as he saw the expression upon his lords face.


    Brand, Athelstan said slowly, what do the men think of me?


    All know you are a greatmander, Brand assured him. They are confident knowing you lead them.


    And what do they think of Sir Richard?


    Well, he is greatly esteemed by them all. His jovial and generous nature, not to mention being champion twice has won the admirations of them all, Brand borated.


    So they might choose him over me, Athelstan mumbled, barely audible.


    I beg your pardon, my lord? Brand said a little confused.


    Athelstan stood indecisive for a moment, turning his eyes in every direction. Saddle my horse, he finally said. I have to ride out.


    Now? While we are to break camp? Brand asked.


    Yes, now, Athelstan said sharply.


    Of course, my lord, Brand replied. Should I apany you?


    This question made Athelstan give Brand a hard look before his features softened. Yes. Yes, I think that is best. Saddle your own horse, I will saddle mine. It will be faster that way.


    The knight and squire both left the tent and fetched their horses. Shortly after, as the longbowmen from Hthiod were returning to camp, they were met by two riders who continued past them, riding north. The archers stopped and gazed after the two mounted men, their sharp eyes recognising the knight in front, and they exchanged questioning nces before continuing into camp.


    ~~~~


    Meanwhile, Theodoric had reached Richards tent and entered it alone. Theodoric, the knight eximed. You are an unexpected sight.


    I can imagine, the jarl replied and nced at Richards sergeant. Can we speak privately?


    Richard nodded to his sergeant, who left the tent. Why so secretive?


    I will be quick since Athelstan spotted me entering. I think his brother is nning a revolt and right now has Middanhal in his grasp, Theodoric said swiftly, leaving Richard overwhelmed.


    Hold steady, a revolt? As in seizing the city and the throne?


    The jarl nodded. He was bringing soldiers into the city under guise leading up to his feast before he gathered all the nobles at his house and made his move.


    But you escaped? the knight remarked questioning.


    I fled the city before his feast, yes.


    So you left before any of this happened? Is this all mere guesswork? Richard asked incredulously.


    It is careful consideration of the facts, Theodoric imed.


    That seems like a stretch, Richard argued. A jarl in open revolt against the Crown and the Order? His own brother is leading this army!


    Precisely why it is brilliant, Theodoric hastened to point out. While one brother ensures that all standing forces leave the realm, the other takes the noblemen prisoner, and then there are none left to resist them.


    I am not quite convinced, Richard said with a voice full of doubt. If they had waited just a week, this army would be deep in Hthiod. Would the jarl reallymit such a rash act?


    Solstice was over, Theodoric argued. Only the princes burial kept the noblemen in the city. Many of them would be leaving to prepare for the harvest on their estates. They had to act swiftly to seize this opportunity, and they did.


    You guess, Richard corrected him. You guess that they acted.


    Richard, the danger is too real to ignore. The prince is dead, Isenhart was thwarted at the Adalthing, but he sees a new opportunity with the throne vacant. Tell me, is this not exactly the kind of risk that Isenhart would take in order to gain his desires?


    The short knight stretched his head back and forth in doubt, wavering. Why are you here, Theodoric? Why are you telling me this?


    Because, Theodoric said patiently, this army alone may threaten his ns. You must seizemand from Athelstan before he can lead it away. You must turn back and march straight at Middanhal.


    You ask a great deal, Richard said slowly. Usurpmand, march on the capital, and deny these forces to the lord marshal in Hthiod. You would make me a traitor thrice over, Theodoric.


    Not if I am right, the jarl insisted. Then you are the saviour of the realm.


    And if you are wrong? They will build a scaffold for me at the Temple square.


    Richard, Theodoric said quietly, I am your oldest friend. I will walk up that scaffold with you if ites to that. But I am not wrong.


    The knight looked at his jarl and took a deep breath. Very well, he said, exhaling. No reason to waste more time.


    With me, Richardmanded his sergeant and Theodorics thanes as he left his tent and crossed the camp with swift steps. Passing through, they saw soldiers in the early steps of breaking camp. Who told you to pack up? Richard asked.


    Sir Athelstans squire, said the soldier and resumed dismantling his tent.


    He is in a hurry to have this army move out, Theodoric pointed out, to which Richard merely grunted, and they continued until they stood before Athelstans tent.


    Sir Athelstan, Richard yelled as they approached to enter it. A charge of treason has been brought before you, and it is  Richard did not finish as they walked inside and found the tent empty. The knight quickly turned towards Theodorics sergeant and thanes. Do you know Athelstans face? he asked them, to which they nodded. Search the camp, find him, and bring him to me.


    He is gone, Theodoric said even as his men dispersed to find Athelstan. He saw me entering camp, he must have guessed why I was here. He will have left already.


    Maybe, Richard said, going outside the tent and looking around the camp. In any case, we are in a hurry. We break camp and march through the night. Less time we give them to prepare, the better. Run to the other side, spread the word we are to be ready to march as soon as we can, he told his sergeant, who hastened away to carry out his orders.


    ~~~~


    North of Lake Myr, two men were riding away from the camp. Once they had put some distance between themselves and the camp, the rider in front allowed the pace to lessen to a slower trot.


    Sir Athelstan, said Brand, who was riding behind, I do not doubt you have good cause for this, but may I ask what it is?


    I will exin in due time, the knight said shortly, looking back at the road behind them.


    Will you also exin why you constantly check for pursuers? Brand asked sharply.


    What? Athelstan said absentmindedly.


    Athelstan! Brand eximed and halted his horse, forcing Athelstan to do the same. A short while ago, you were urging that we march to Hthiod as soon as possible. Now we are riding north.


    This was not how I intended it, Athelstan mumbled. I did mean for us to join the war east.


    Then why are we not? asked Brand in the same sharp tone.


    My brother, Athelstan began to exin. He has taken Middanhal. He is going to set right what has gone wrong in thisnd.


    At this deration, Brands expression turned horrid. He has done what? Taken over the city?


    Yes, Athelstan nodded. It was necessary. Adalmearc is falling to pieces, Brand. The Order is as well.


    I do not believe this, Brand shook his head. I do not believe what I am hearing.


    It is necessary, Athelstan reiterated. Thest of the princes of Adal is dead. Murdered on his way to Valcaster, no less. Would you trust the jarl Vale not to seize power? To stand aside while the throne is empty?


    It is not Jarl Vale who has seized the city, Brand said coldly.


    A necessity, Athelstan imed. Brand, you have not seen what I have seen. We are threatened by enemies abroad, invaded already! And more on the way.


    Then we will fight them! Brand proimed. Like the Order has always done.


    But the Order is weak, Athelstan said. Half the realms are not contributing, and the other half are stretching our forces thin. If you had been in Heohlond like your father was, you would understand!


    Pray tell, Brand said with the same ice as before in his tone, how would Heohlond change my mind? It is a name I have heard so often along with my fathers, yet none will ever speak more of it!


    Because it is a disgrace! Athelstan yelled. It was a massacre on both sides. Why do you think your mothers family is gone? None showed mercy, neither they nor us. And the old king, mad in his grief, encouraged it. More blood in revenge for his son, the knight said in disgust.


    Were you not amander? Did responsibility not fall upon your shoulders? Brand said usingly.


    It did, and I tried, Athelstan imed, I tried. In the end I returned to Middanhal, I pleaded with the king to negotiate peace rather than continue scorching thend. What was his response? He sent me to Alczar for seven years, it came bitterly from the knight.


    And my father? asked Brand.


    When I failed, your father took matters into his own hands, Athelstan told Brand. He tried to make the knights refuse fighting, a mutiny. It ended badly, swords were drawn, and he died. Killed by none other than Roderic, who as a reward was made knight marshal.


    Blood drained from Brands face, and for a moment they were both silent. Finally, the squire broke the silence. I am not my father. I am not a traitor, and I uphold my oath. I will have no part in this.


    But think, Athelstan said quickly, think what we could do! The son of Arngrim would never be trusted by the Orders current marshals, but you will be my first lieutenant. I will be lord marshal, and together we will fight the invasion in Hthiod. Together, we will make the Order strong!


    So that is your aim, Brand said calcted, your brother the king and you the lord marshal. For this you would tear the realm apart at a time when all its strength is needed to oppose a foreign enemy!


    All the more reason I must assumemand. You trust Sir Reynold to win this campaign? asked Athelstan rhetorically. He publicly supported the King of Grief, Athelstan spoke, pronouncing the ekename with disdain, when he told us to raze the homes of the nsmen. He is not the man to lead us in war.


    But you are? You, who would break your word, yet expect others to show you loyalty.


    It is the only way. Brand, you have been mypanion for seven years, you are like a brother to me. I urge you, stand by my side,e to Middanhal with me!


    Like a brother, Brand said, his voice growing disheartened. But will your true brother think the same way? Will the jarl once he is king not see me as a threat? Will he not hate the athelings of Sigvard, us who are dragonborn?


    I will protect you, Athelstan promised. Stand by me now, and I will always stand by you.


    Will you? You have already chosen your brother over the Order. When he asks you to make this choice again, will you choose differently?


    That will not happen, Athelstan insisted. You are the same as my blood to me.


    And yet not your blood, Brand replied, and blood is the very heart of the matter. Yours has given you wealth, position, it has made your brother reach for the crown. But mine? Brand asked. Mine gives me enemies. Because of it I stand taller, Brand continued, and thus I am an easier target. For this sake, my honour must always be untarnished.


    This is not true, Athelstan shook his head, but Brand continued undeterred.


    You make this choice because you were born to a house of wealth and power, because you dare to reach for more. But my every step, especially since my father died in an ignominious way, has bnced upon a knife edge, Brand said. I have spent my life in anticipation of proving myself, treading my own path. And you ask me to throw this away?


    Do you not see, Athelstan urged him, I offer you all this! I offer you everything!


    You offer me to forsake my honour, forsake the Order. Do you not see, Brand countered, without the Order I am nothing! I have nothing! I will be a traitor at your brothers court, his tool to discard, and a thorn that will eventually displease him.


    It was with hesitation that Athelstan finally spoke again. I cannot waste further time on this. Choose now.


    I choose my honour, Brand said, blinking as his eyes became disturbed. I choose a path of my own volition rather than depend on the mercy of others.


    So be it, Athelstan said quietly. When we meet again, I hope it will be under better terms. With those parting words, the knight spurred his horse on. Brand lingered, watching Athelstan rapidly put distance between them; looking away, he turned his horse and slowly rode back towards the camp.


    ~~~~


    Continuing up the Kingsroad, Athelstan soon spotted regiments of soldiers marching his way. He halted his horse, straining his eyes to see their colours. It took a moment, but he could finally determine it was not a white star on a ck background; they were ck swords intertwined with red. Moreover, as they came closer, Athelstan easily recognised the man riding in front. He rode forward and hailed themander of the regiments.


    Eumund, he called out. His nephew spotted him and rode out to the side while beckoning the soldiers to continue the march. They did so in silent obedience though they looked worn and haggard; experienced eyes could guess that they had suffered a forced march through the night with little rest.


    Uncle! Eumund eximed as he reached him. What a surprise, but a pleasant one. I did wrestle with how to best get you out of the camp.


    You are bringing our own men? Athelstan asked. What happened to thest regiments in Middanhal?


    They never departed. Things did not go as intended in the capital, Eumund said with a mixture of bitterness and embarrassment.


    What went wrong?


    Too many things, Eumund said, shaking his head. We could not take the Citadel with its extra defenders, and both the jarl of Vale and of Theodstan escaped the city before we could close our fist around it.


    Theodstan is in the camp, Athelstan told him, but it is ill news that Vale has fled. He above all others has the will and strength to resist us.


    Theodstan is in the camp? Eumund repeated. My fears were right. I thought it likely either he or Vale would turn the Order army against us, hence our march here, the young knight said, gesturing towards the columns of soldiers passing them.


    You show more sense than your father, Athelstan said with some measure of frustration. I warned him that it was imperative Vale was taken captive. More than anything it all hinged upon that.


    It is toote for that. ns have changed, Eumund told him.


    You have brought these men here to attack the Order encampment?


    Eumund nodded. Then resupply in Ingmond. I have brought the jarl with me to ensure their cooperation. Afterwards, we must strike at Vale before he can gather his full strength.


    Your thoughts run true, Athelstan conceded, yet I am hesitant to follow their course.


    Athelstan, you said yourself that this was a necessity. That all of this had to be done, Eumund pointed out. Since Vale is not in our grasp, war is inevitable.


    I am aware, Athelstan spoke with frustration. I think I knew as soon as I saw Theodstan in the camp, I was merely reluctant to admit it. Perhaps why I wanted him toe with me. Thest sentence was added quietly as Athelstan nced south.


    What did you say?


    Never mind, Athelstan told Eumund and turned his horse around. We have a task before us, he told his nephew as they rode to the head of the column.


    ~~~~


    Riding at a slow, almost leisurely pace, Brand eventually reached the camp. Around him, he saw the signs of an army preparing to march; tents were being pulled down and rolled together, lids nailed shut to barrels of grain or water, bedrolls stuffed tightly into packs, and so on. Brands attention was as dull as the pace of his horse, moving sluggishly among the men until he reached the tent he had hitherto shared with Athelstan, and he dismounted. Tying the horse to a nearby post almost as a reflex, he stood motionless, aimless. ncing around at the other men breaking camp, he walked inside the tent to look at his belongings.


    Hes in here, a voice called out. Several men entered the tent, armed and with hard looks in their eyes. They did not wear the surcoats of the Order but rather the colours of Theodstan. An ordinary Order soldier was with them and pointed at Brand. Thats Sir Athelstans squire right there, he told the thanes.


    Not the knight though, objected one of the thanes. Sir Richard only mentioned the knight.


    Maybe we should ask the sergeant, said another thane, he always knows what the jarl wants done.


    Ill go find him and ask if we should take the squire too, dered a third thane and promptly left the tent.


    Realising what was going on, Brand woke from his stupor and ced his hands against his belt. Listen here, you will not ce one hand upon me. I am Adalbrand of House Arnling


    His deration was cut short by cries of rming from outside, and both the thanes and the squire forgot their dispute in favour of running outside. To arms, came the cry, were being attacked! The shout was apanied by the first couple of arrowsnding, and one man fell with a scream. Everything descended into confusion; many soldiers were not wearing their mail or near their weapons, and they scrambled around, often colliding.


    North of them, they could see line after line of soldiers rushing towards them, yelling fierce cries of war. A few, those with old scars and a calm head, began to gather near their banners; others, low in years and experience, began to panic. Run! some of them yelled and took their own advice as they bolted. One soldier, a boy too young that he should ever have been conscripted, threw his shield on the ground and turned in flight.


    At this sight, Brand was spurred into action. The squire drew his sword and pummelled the fleeing boy in the stomach so he fell t on his back. Next man that runs will taste the sharp edge, Brand yelled, which gave him the attention of the nearby soldiers. Looking towards those who had gathered around their banner, Brand pointed with his sword between two carts. Take positions, form a battle line, in formation, he shouted, and the men ran towards where he had indicated. The squire meanwhile unsped his cloak and flung it back inside his tent, preparing himself for battle.


    Three ranks deep! Get going, you worthless maggots, he added to those who stood wavering. You there, take the nk, he shouted to another group behind him that likewise stood idle. Two ranks deep! He turned to face the thanes from Theodstan, who had finally found their sergeant but otherwise stood doubtful. You stand with me, Brand ordered them, kill any that passes through the line!


    Yes, milord! the thanes replied obediently, taking positions in front of him as if he were their jarl.


    Arrows! came the warning cry as a volley threatened to descend from the sky.


    Shields! Brand yelled, his own shield arm empty. He reached out and grabbed the lid of a barrel, which fortunately was not nailed shut yet, and he held it up to protect his head. The impact as a few arrowsnded could be felt; when the projectile rain ended, he tossed it aside and turned his gaze ahead. The first line of attackers was nearly upon them, wearing the red and ck of Isarn. Stand fast! Brandmanded the men. Remember the drill, protect the man on your left with your shield, he reminded them. And by the ck Knight, give them swift passage to Hel!


    The lines shed with a sound worse than any tournament, any games of war. The spears and swords were sharp, blood flowed freely, and some of the youngest vomited where they stood. At first, the Order ranks held and forced the attackers back; as both sides took losses, however, the soldiers of Isarn seemed to prevail and began to push through. The line threatened to disintegrate, and several enemies sought to get through in order to turn around and attack the defenders in the back.


    Move! Brand urged the thanes, and they surged forward to close the gaps and protect the front fighters from being cut down from behind. One man escaped their des, however, and Brand had no choice but to step forward and engage him. The soldiers spear lunged forward against the squire, who diverted its course with his de; Brand followed up by stepping so close, the Isarn soldier could not stab with his spear again. Before he could strike with his spear or draw his short sword, Brand shed him across the throat and he fell dying to the ground.


    Hold fast! Brand shouted again, and with the aid of the thanes, the line was restored. Another push by the Isarn soldiers, another repel. In the distance, Brand could at times hear sounds of waring from other parts of the camp; then he was forced back into the fight present before him. The right nk threatened to fall, and several thanes were sent to reinforce it. The enemy was moving around the left to outnk them, and a handful of soldiers from the back of the ranks had to be pulled back to meet them. Several times Brands de ked its thirst, and more than once blood was drawn from him.


    At length a horn sounded, and the attackers retreated. A look towards the west exined why; the sun had nearly set and it was growing dark. The advantage of surprise, which had served the Isarn soldiers at first, had long since waned, and it would soon be reced by utter confusion if fighting continued into the night. Having more ordered ranks and fighting defensively, the advantage would have swung in favour of the Order soldiers.


    With the fighting at an end, cheers rose from the beleaguered soldiers; weariness was evident in their voices, though, and with the rush of battle gone, many of them began to stand uneasy on their feet. Looking around, Brand could see scores upon scores of dead, and this was only in one part of the camp. Some were wounded so badly, they could now do nothing but lie on the ground helpless, while others staggered around, barely able to keep on their feet.


    Turning to the thanes, Brand quickly gestured for them to approach. You know Sir Richard, yes?


    Yes, I know him, answered Theodorics sergeant while the other thanes began to clean their weapons and check their scratches.


    Sir Richard holds charge now. Find him, Brand told the sergeant from Theodstan. Inform him of our status here. I will be along shortly once I have put things into order.


    Yes, milord, the sergeant said, bowing his head and hurrying away.


    Meanwhile, Brand turned back towards the soldiers. You, you, and you, keep watch, he told those that seemed oldest and most reliable. You over there, move our dead here and collect their weapons. You, gather the wounded over there, he continued, issuing further orders and setting all to work.


    ~~~~


    In another part of the camp, Richard cleaned his sword and sheathed it. A ring of dead enemiesy around him; nearby stood Theodoric with a substantially smaller heap of foes. Both were rtively unscathed. Damn those bastards to Hel, Richard muttered as he surveyed the damage wrought to the camp and his men. They could still hear the sounds of the wounded calling out in agony, though they brothers had begun administering aid.


    What do we do now? asked Theodoric.


    Truth be told, I am better at following orders than giving them, Richard admitted, scratching his head. But we have the night for getting this camp into a better defensive position. They will be back, he said bleakly.


    Before their conversation could continue, Theodorics sergeant arrived. Milords, he greeted the jarl and knight. I was sent to report to you from the other part of camp. We have a few hundred dead, and I reckon about the same number with heavy wounds, unable to fight.


    Wait, sent by whom? asked Richard. Frambold was the only other knight left besides me, and I saw him take a spear.


    There was a young knight, sir, he took charge when they attacked. Kept our heads cool, the sergeant exined.


    There are no other knights in camp, Richard said. Are you sure he was not just a man-at-arms?


    I think he had spurs, the sergeant said with some doubt, but truth be told I didnt have much time to look closely.


    Where is this supposed knight now, Geberic? asked Theodoric.


    Oh, there is he, Geberic pointed towards Brand, who was approaching them. He said hede here afterwards.


    Sir Richard, Brand saluted with his fist towards his chest.


    You are Athelstans squire, Richard said with narrowed eyes as he recognised Brand.


    I was, Brand admitted. However, he is fighting for the other side, I am here. Since I know his stratagems better than any other, I thought to present myself to offer counsel.


    Theodorics sergeant says you did well, Richard acknowledged. This is the jarl of Theodstan, he said in introduction, nodding towards Theodoric.


    I am aware of who his lordship is, Brand said, inclining his head to Theodoric. I remember from the Adalthing.


    That is where I have seen you, came an outburst from Theodoric. You are the atheling, Adalbrand.


    I am, my lord, though right now I am a squire in the Order. As said, I wish to make myself avable to serve as your lieutenant, Sir Richard.


    Fine, the knight nodded. Since Frambold is dead and I got no other candidates, I will need somebody capable. I will even make you my first lieutenant, Richard told him, and Brand epted the promotion by inclining his head. We need to get this army into shape again and be ready for a new assault. By now, the sun had all but set.


    As your first lieutenant, I must point something out. This was a probing attack, meant to test our resolve and weaken it. Athelstan will let his forces rest and then begin a proper assault with morning light, and we are in poor condition to resist it, Brand exined. Regardless of what measures we may take now.


    What do you suggest we do? asked Richard.


    We leave at once and avoid a confrontation entirely. March through the night. Send a few groups east to the lord marshal exining our absence while we disappear north into the hills. It will also give the impression our army has dispersed and is of no further threat, Brand borated.


    You do not think we should carry out our original orders to join the lord marshal? Richard asked.


    No. This army is the sole remaining Order presence in Adalrik. It is now our duty to quell this civil war, or the whole realm will be swallowed up by it. If we march to Hthiod, we may get bogged down in the campaign there while the rebels roam free here, Brand exined his position.


    Where should we march? Go west towards Vale? suggested Theodoric, but Brand shook his head.


    That is the most likely destination, and Athelstan will be wary of it. If he catches up to us whilst we are unready, he will crush us. We go east and then straight north through the hills, Brand suggested.


    Then we will be caught against the mountains, objected the jarl. Trapped and surely destroyed by Athelstans forces, he imed.


    Not if we cross them, Brand imed.


    Are you mad? Cross the Weolcans? Theodoric said in disbelief.


    It is summer, Brand pointed out. There are always local herdsmen letting their animals graze up the mountains. They know the paths. We will make them show us the way.


    That sounds like a severe risk, the jarl said with a voice full of doubt. We will have to leave our carts and most supplies behind. It will end up being a question of whether we starve or freeze to death.


    It will be hard, Brand admitted. We cannot take the wounded either. Only those who can walk and who can carry their own necessities. Weapons, food for the journey, and a cloak, nothing more.


    Geberic, Theodoric said, turning to his sergeant, who was standing a few paces away. Do you honestly think the men will notmit mutiny at hearing this?


    Well, it never sits right leaving wounded people behind, the old greybeard admitted, scratching said beard. But I dont think the men want to remain here either. We are your thanes, milord, we go anywhere you tell us to.


    But the other men, Theodoric continued, the Order soldiers. A lot of them are clearly young and inexperienced. Will they not simply desert us?


    There was one youngd who tried earlier tonight, Geberic said, recounting the events of the battle. But the young knight there, the sergeant continued with a nod to Brand, he knocked sense into him. Quite literally. I think the men will do as told, milord. Gods know it would have gone a lot worse if he hadnt been there, Geberic finished, looking slightly ufortable at gainsaying his own jarl.


    He is a squire, Theodoric grumbled. You can see his spurs are silver, the jarl added, correcting Geberics mistake.


    Regardless, Brand said, resuming control of the discussion, this is our best choice. If we can disappear into the mountains, Athelstan will turn his attention and army elsewhere.


    If we can disappear, Theodoric reiterated. If not, we will be trapped and ughtered.


    Athelstan has no interest in pursuing us, Brand argued. The longer he waits, the more forces will be mustered by Jarl Vale. As long as we give the impression that we have fled, he will be only too eager to march west.


    And what of us? asked Richard.


    After crossing the mountains, we in turn will be in northern Adalrik, Brand exined. Near Theodstan, where we can gain reinforcements and new provisions. And, he added, most importantly of all


    They will not expect it, Richard eximed. They will think all Order forces have left the realm while we have an army in their backyard. What a wonderfully mad n!


    Richard, you are not considering this? Theodoric asked incredulously. Crossing the mountains will likely kill half your army.


    It will make heroes of the other half, the knight said undisturbed. Reinforcements from Theodstan will make up for the losses.


    Unless the jarl has cause for notmitting his troops to the Order? Brand asked in a neutral voice, looking at Theodoric.


    Of course not, the jarl muttered. I only consider how it will affect morale to leave the wounded behind.


    Athelstan is not a savage, Brand replied. There is no cause to believe they will harm those we cannot bring with us.


    Even so, Theodoric tried to argue. Leaving the wounded, our tents, supplies you will have to leave your horse behind, the jarl pointed out to Richard, which gave the margrave pause.


    We must all make sacrifices, the knight finally said. For the good of the realm. He turned until he spotted his own sergeant some distance away and called out to him. Graulf, tell the men to pack their weapons and food and line up for march. But take only what they can carry on their backs. If anybody grumbles or thinks about desertion, I will cut off his manhood with a rusty knife, Richardmanded the sergeant, who quicklyplied.


    ~~~~


    A flurry of activity ensued in the camp as orders spread they were to prepare for march immediately. There were someints, and not all wished toply; it sat hard with many to abandon the wounded as well as most of their belongings. Discipline prevailed, however, as the seasoned men-at-arms persuaded themon soldiers to follow orders, and there was no need for Richards rusty knife.


    The knight captain himself was standing next to his horse. It was an old mare, but it had twice borne him to be champion of the horse. I am so sorry, old girl, Richard whispered, petting its muzzle. I cannot take you with me. The horse snorted in response. I will send you with the soldiers going east. They will take good care of you, I promise, he reassured the mare. And when this is done, I will take you home to Alwood, and you will get a field all to yourself and all the apples you can eat. This elicited another snort, and with some trepidation, the knight gave the reins to a nearby soldier, who had pointedly looked away from the exchange between the knight and his horse.


    At the other end of the camp, Brand returned to his tent. His half-packed belongings were still on his cot. He opened the pack and pulled out his nket, the bedroll, the oil for his sword, rags to polish his armour, and the small chess set that he brought with him on travels. Looking it over, Brand exhaled deeply; in his pocket, his fingers took hold of the king piece. Brand pulled it out and gazed intently on it; eventually, he put it back. He sped his cloak around him and next grabbed his shield with his house insignia upon it. With a final nce towards his possessions spread over the cot, Brand turned and left the tent.


    Outside, he nearly ran into a young soldier. Apologies, sir! said the soldier frantically, looking no older than a teenaged boy.


    Get ready for the march, Brand said brusquely and began to move away.


    I am ready, sir, the soldier said quickly. I came to see if you required any help.


    Me? Brand asked, turning his head to look back. It was the soldier who had turned and fled before Brands pommel in his stomach had knocked him to the ground.


    You do not seem to have a squire, sir, the boy exined. I looked, and I couldnt see any. So I thought  I would, or I could, I mean


    You thought you would be my squire? Brandpleted the boys stammering sentence.


    Yes, sir, came the relieved reply.


    First of all, I am not a knight, Brand began to exin, hence I am not to be titled sir. Nor have I earned the privilege of a squire.


    Oh, the boy said dismayed.


    Secondly, a squire is in training to be a knight himself, must spend seven years as a page first, and be either of noble birth or at the very least be supported by one of high standing.


    Oh, the boy repeated himself with deeper dismay if possible.


    A sergeant, however, Brand continued, serves the same purpose as a squire. That is, he aids a knight in whatever capacity necessary. While only pages be squires, any soldier can be sergeant to a knight or to a nobleman, should he require such services.


    So, the boy said, working it out in his head, may I request permission to be your sergeant?


    You may, Brand said amused. What is your name?


    Matthew, sir, the newly made sergeant replied eagerly.


    Still not sir, Brand reminded him. Do you y chess? The boy shook his head. I will teach you. Are you packed for the march? he asked, to which Matthew nodded several times. Good. Your first task is to enter the tent behind us, find room in your pack for the small chess set lying on a cot, and bring it with us.


    Yes, sir! Matthew said enthusiastically, turning around and almost sprinting into the tent. Brand began to correct him again, but he abandoned it and continued towards where the soldiers were gathering for the march.


    ~~~~


    It was still early in the night when the march began. Groups of soldiers had been sent in other directions and told to make their way towards Hthiod as best they could, bringing news of events in Adalrik to the lord marshal. The rest of the army, all those fit for hardship, marched in two files to mask their numbers. Each man wore his mail shirt on his body, his short sword by his waist, his cloak and shield on his back along with his pack of provisions, and a spear in his hand. They moved east for several hours before turning north, aiming for the distant peaks of the Weolcan Mountains.


    When the vanguard of the Isarn army approached the Order encampment the following morning, they saw no signs of defenders. Cautiously, fearing a ruse, they crept closer. There were no soldiers hiding, no ambush sprung; all they found were abandoned tents and carts along with hundreds of wounded soldiers, tended to by a handful ofy brothers in their brown robes.


    While the Isarn soldiers salvaged the many supplies left behind, scouts were sent ahead to locate the dispersed Order soldiers. They found tracks that for the most part led east. The scouts pursued them for half a day but saw no sign that these scattered groups converged again. Some led north, possibly with the aim of hiding in the hills where the terrain became rockier, but most seemed to be aiming for Hthiod to re-join the Order forces there. At the end of the day, the scouts brought back this information to theirmander. Having vanquished the only Order army in Adalrik, Athelstan of Isarn now turned his gaze and his thoughts west towards the province of Vale.

 Chapter 19: City of Circles

    Chapter 19: City of Circles


    City of Circles


    Tothmor


    After the assembly of the Adalthing and the election of the lord protector, Godfrey swiftly journeyed southeast. Leaving Middanhal, he crossed the hills south of the capital and followed the Kingsroad through the province of Ingmond before reaching Hthiod. A journey of several days came afterwards until he finally had Tothmor, capital of the heatnds, in sight. Although a long trip, Godfrey arrived about a week after summer solstice and the aforementioned assembly.


    Tothmor was built leaning against a lone mountain, rising up on the heath. The name for the mountain had lent its name to the city built against its southern side, resembling a tooth jagging up on the otherwise t moor. Some with more wit than affection for the city had once said that thest part of the name had a different meaning originally, however, and it actually meant dead tooth.


    On a cloudy, bleak day, such a name might seem apt. Entering through the gate and paying the toll, Godfrey was treated to the sight of a city built mostly in brown y bricks. Simr earth tones were worn by themoners that dwelled there as Godfrey looked beyond the city gate and nted his staff in the ground, walking forward. There were not many decorations, little marble or gilded metal to be found; Hthiod was not a rich country. The only exception was the umon number of temples in Tothmor. While other cities of Adalmearc typically had one major temple dedicated to one god and smaller shrines elsewhere or attached to the main temple, Tothmor had no less than six separate temples, all of which trained novices and acolytes to be initiated into their respective priesthoods. In a stark contrast to the rest of the city, these temples were richly adorned, and they might almost rival the royal pce.


    Tothmor was a city of circles; it had begun with merely a single half-circle closest to the mountain and thus in an elevated, easily defended position. As the city grew, another semi-circr wall had been added further down the mountainside, starting from the east, running in a curve southwards and then connecting with the mountain on the west side. Then another circle and another, arriving at the current number of five districts with the lowest semicircle being on the same level as the surrounding heath. Each time a new district was added, the poorest were relegated to living there, slowly pushed downhill by the more affluent residents taking over the old districts. A mans worth, wealth, or status could be judged quite urately simply by the district in which he lived.


    Each of the old city walls was still in use; no longer an outer line of fortifications, they served instead to separate the districts. Their gatesy directly opposite each other with one short main road running from lowest to highest; thus, standing at the lowest, one had a view up the hill of all the next four gates. Moving up the street, Godfrey passed through the fifth district, which was much like Lowtown in Middanhal, upied by the poor, the serving ss, and those who had cause to hide from the city guard in the overpopted district. Passing through the next gate, the guards gave him azy nce as he entered the fourth district, which still had its share of filth and overcrowded atmosphere; here there were craftsmen, vendors, and peddlers of all kinds. There was no marketce as such in Tothmor, so the stalls and shops were simply scattered across the entire district.


    Going beyond the boundary of this fourth circle and entering the third, change was more noticeable. Fewer houses were built from y bricks, and not all people lived clumped together inrge blocks of buildings but might have their own, detached house. The wealthier merchants and the poorer nobility had their dwellings here as did the many temples. This was reflected by the numerous robes in various colours, belonging to the priests and priestesses. Reaching this area, Godfrey turned away from the main road and walked east into the disorganised morass of small streets.


    While there were other houses disying certain affluence, the temples outshone them all, aided by the fact that they were funded by their respective priesthoods in the other realms of Adalmearc. While the three temples for the goddessesy west of the gate, Godfrey went in the other direction. He passed by the temple for Hamaring, guarded by its warrior monks with their great war hammers. Next the temple for Egnil, whose guardians stood with shields and ils by their side, and finally, he reached thergest of the temples, whose sword-wielding sentinels revealed it to be consecrated to Rihimil, lord of the lesser divines.


    Godfrey moved with a few other people into the dark, cool interior of the building; however, while they came to seek out the altar and give offerings, Godfrey continued deeper into the temple until he was stopped by an acolyte.


    I am Brother Nikodemos, the initiate introduced himself. May I enquire as to your presence?


    I am here to see your high priest, Godfrey exined. I bring a message from Middanhal, from the Archon, he said, using the southern term for the Highfather. The acolyte asked no further questions and led Godfrey to the local high priest for Rihimil in Tothmor.


    Nikodemos brought Godfrey into a small, private shrine only for use by the priests of the temple. Inside knelt the high priest in prayer before a statue of a knight in ck armour. Like all priests of his faith, he wore ck robes with a silver dragon as its emblem. The hem of the robe was decorated in a certain pattern that revealed his status within the priesthood, and around his neck hung a heavy ne with arge pendant. The acolyte, whose low status was indicated by his simple ck robe without patterns or emblems, left quietly.


    Although the noise of entering had made it clear that somebody else was in the shrine, the high priest remained kneeling in prayer while his lips moved wordlessly. Godfrey waited a short while, resting his walking staff against the wall. You have convinced me of your piety. Now please stand so I may address you, he said.


    The priest rose and sent the newly arrived traveller a scowl. You dare speak to me in such a manner? I could have the guards flog you.


    First you should read the message I bring, Godfrey replied with a sly smile. He extended a folded piece of paper to the priest who snatched it from his hands. Looking at the seal, he strained his eyes to examine it in the dim torch light inside the shrine.


    This came from the Archon himself? From the Basilika?


    None less, Godfrey confirmed.


    The high priest broke the seal, and his eyes skimmed over the text. I thought this was an answer to my pleas,ined the ck-robed man. Does the Holy One not realise my position as court seer is threatened?


    I am sure you have made it abundantly clear to him, Godfrey said dryly.


    He was initiated to sacred Rihimil as well before taking the mantle of Archon, continued the high priest. But all he writes is that he cannot intercede! Why not?


    That is a question for him, not me, Godfrey said dismissively. Now, the letter mentions you are to provide me with coin.


    You know its contents? asked the priest surprised.


    I know a great deal, Brother Dominic, Godfrey said with a smile bordering mockery. The silver, please.


    Wait here, Dominic said curtly and quickly left. When he returned, he handed a small bag of coins to Godfrey.


    My thanks, Godfrey said and inclined his head, his smile still insincere. Without being dismissed or words of parting, he turned and left the premises.


    ~~~~


    Shortly after, the same acolyte who had guided Godfrey to the high priest of Rihimil left the temple and entered the streets of the third circle. He remained in the back alleys, however, and his ck robe kept him nearly invisible to other people. A voice reached him, trembling with age and withered fury. Bow, you fools, before it is toote, the voice spoke. How long will you worship these false gods in their temples of gold while your children starve?


    Walking past, Nikodemos could see the speaker; it was a madman, by all appearance, attracting little attention. The acolyte shuddered at hearing such words of sphemy, pulling the hood of his robe up to cover his ears. Soon after, he reached another of the eastern-lying temples and made his way inside through a back entrance, unseen. Finally, Nikodemos reached a small study and waited until somebody entered. The new person in the room wore a robe with the same patterned hem as all high priests did; the colour was bright yellow, however, and a ck bull was its emblem.


    You, eximed the high priest of Egnil as he spotted the ck-robed acolyte. You bring news?


    I do, Reverend One, the acolyte said with a small bow. A messenger from the Archon arrived just now and spoke with my master.


    And? Will he be given any assurances?


    No, Reverend One, Nikodemos answered whilst shaking his head. From what I could hear, the Holy One had no interest in interfering.


    Good, good, mumbled the high priest. Our ns can proceed. The ck-robed acolyte remained in the room while the yellow-robed priest seemed to forget his presence. You may go, he finally told Nikodemos. The ckrobe gave a small bow and retreated out of the room. The high priest of Egnil waited until his spy had left; then he walked to the door and called for his servant. Tell Brother Gregory toe to my chamber, he informed his attendant.


    Thetter disappeared and quickly returned with another man; his yellow robe with the ck bull upon its chest proimed him an ordained priest of Egnil. You asked for me, Reverend One? said Gregory.


    The court seer has received his reply from Middanhal. The Archon has not granted him any favours.


    What was he hoping to achieve, do you think? It is not the Archons decision to determine the position of court seer, Gregory pondered.


    The high priest shrugged. Some kind of decree supporting his position, perhaps? Even though the court seer is appointed at the discretion of our local monarch, a word from the Archon in Middanhal would weigh heavily. Or perhaps the Holy One could simply forbid the rest of us from epting the position.


    In that case, we are fortunate that the Holy One is not interested in involving himself, Gregory imed.


    Yes. Our ns continue. Prepare yourself, the high priest dered.


    Outside the door stood the high priests personal servant, listening. When footsteps announced that the men inside the room were leaving, the servant hastened away. He left the temple for Egnil entirely and walked towards the central part of the third district until he reached the first of the three temples for the male divinities; a statue of a man in bearskin was atop its entrance, holding a great hammer in both hands, which proimed it dedicated to Hamaring. The servant went inside, unseen, until he spotted one of the priests in their white robes.


    I have to return shortly, or my master will know I am gone, the servant whispered to the priest. Tell your high priest that the court seer is not receiving any support from Middanhal, and that the geolrobes are continuing their ns.


    The white-robed priest with a ck bear as its insignia nodded to the servant and moved to an inner courtyard in the small templeplex. Here, guards andy brothers were training with theirrge war hammers under the supervision of the high priest of Hamaring in Hthiod; while the white robe was rather concealing, it could not entirely hide that the high priest had forearms suggesting his own ability to swing the two-handed hammers if need be.


    Reverend One, the priest said and gained his superiors attention. The ckrobes have heard from the Basilika. The Archon will not interfere on behalf of the court seer.


    And the geolrobes? asked the high priest, using the archaic term for the yellow-d servants of Egnil.


    Their ns continue, answered the lesser priest.


    As will ours, came a smile from the highest ced servant of Hamaring in Hthiod, turning his attention once more to the men sparring in front of him.


    ~~~~


    Evening was slowly approaching when the high priest of Rihimil left his temple and walked towards the gate road. Being in the third district filled with temples, he was amon sight in his robes; men and women of every age filled this circle in robes of ck, yellow, white, green, blue, and red. Those who noticed the pattern on his hem, however, were quick to show reverence and get out of his way. Reaching the gate, he had no trouble passing either as the city guards kept out of his path.


    The second district was home to stately houses, manors, and their associated servants quarters. Carriages and horses were a moremon sight here, and there were both arge number of city guards as well as soldiers employed to the various members of the nobility dwelling here. The high priest did not linger but continued straight along the road until he reached thest gate leading into the first district. The guards, recognising the court seer, did not hinder his passage.


    In ancient times, the first district had been the entire city; now barely any remnant of that could be found. The royal pce was one of the few buildings that had existed since the foundation of Tothmor, but it had been demolished and rebuilt centuries ago. Now, the pce took up arge area of the innermost circle of the city along with its extensive gardens and terraces as an oasis in the surrounding heaths. There was a small keep as well, belonging to the Order and the marshal of Hthiod. The garrison was small, however, since nearly all Order soldiers in Hthiod were manning the Langstan. The rest of the first circle was housing for the servants, lined up against the district wall or Mount Tothmor itself, where their residences would not mar the view.


    The high priest continued into the pceplex, moving through its corridors until he reached the innermost part. This was built right up against the mountainside, which meant it had few windows and little natural light. Torches lit a dim path until he stood before tworge doors. Outside stood guards, and one of them opened the door. The court seer, mydy, he announced.


    Let him enter, said a preupied female voice from within the chambers.


    The priest hurried inside the chambers, which were richly adorned and furnished. Inside, eating grapes and studying documents, sat a woman some fifty years of age. Her hair was lightly touched by grey and intricately worn, and her clothes, covering a slightly pudgy figure, spoke of wealth. On her head, she wore a small tiara in the custom of southern royalty.


    Mydy Irene, the high priest greeted her while bowing his head.


    Dominic, she said casually as she nced over to acknowledge his presence. What reason does the court seer have for disturbing me?


    Deardy, I have received a reply for my request that the Archon affirms my position as court seer. If you recall that we spoke of this.


    I do not recall, Irene said absentmindedly.


    I see, Dominic said disheartened, but he continued nheless as he walked closer. I requested that the Archon forbade the other priests in the city from any attempt to steal my office. This, he declined.


    Dominic, why is this a necessity with you? You are court seer at my discretion. If you want to keep that, she said while pointing at the medallion around his neck, I am the one you should seek to cate, not anybody else.


    Of course, mydy, Dominic said, inclining his neck once more. But without the Archon supporting me, I fear the other high priests may plot against me and by extension therefore you, Lady Irene.


    Plot against me? she snorted. How so? I am the undisputed ruler of this realm.


    None can argue that, mydy, Dominic told her, but the queen is your niece and not you, mydy. Suppose she were influenced by voices other than yours, mydy, she might be persuaded to change many things.


    They would not dare, Irene said sharply.


    Perhaps not, Dominic admitted, but the position of court seer and the ability to elevate their own priesthood above the others in this city is a most tempting prospect. You should be wary, mydy.


    Do you have any proof or are these all figments of your mind?


    I have my sources of information, mydy, Dominic said.


    Irene sat silent, pondering for a moment. I suppose it was bound to happen sooner orter with Theodora growing up.


    While my counterparts of the other priesthoods may scheme against you, mydy, you have my assured loyalty, Dominic imed.


    Do I? For you are easily reced, dear Dominic, should I find one of your peers more preferable.


    Mydy, Dominic protested, Do not forget I helped you create the current situation here at the pce.


    And were rewarded for it, Irene said quickly in reply, to which Dominic bowed his head again.


    I would never dispute that, mydy. It is this strong bond that makes me fear that the other priests seek not only to rece me but yourdyship as well.


    There may be some veracity to your line of thinking, Irene granted thoughtfully. Very well. Find out what you can about these supposed plots. If it necessitates taking action, then by the divines I will not hesitate in doing so, she swore. Dominic bowed his head for thest time and left her chambers to carry out hermand.


    ~~~~


    The first evening bell had already rung when Godfrey reached the lowest district. There were plenty of people on the streets even as the shops and stalls closed; the taverns and inns remained open past first bell, and most people on the street were headed for such ces. Godfrey followed a stream of people walking into the crowded sections of the lowest circle, where the houses were built close together and people lived in them even closer.


    His attention was diverted by something that most others ignored or did not notice. A man in ragged clothes and with a thoroughly unkempt look was speaking loudly. As the only one, Godfrey stopped to inspect the speakers haggard appearance and hear his words.


    Listen before it is toote! Hees like a storm across the desert, bringing a flood to sweep away the unworthy! This and simr warnings came unendingly, threatening those passing with all manner of doom.


    Who ising? asked Godfrey quietly, yet his question prated the loud noises of the evening street, and the madman ceased talking, fixing his feverish eyes on Godfrey. They stared out under bushy eyebrows in a face surrounded by filthy, long hair with a dirty full beard. The anxious energy that permeated the madmans whole body and his ranting stood in stark contrast to Godfreys calm awaiting of an answer, leaning against his staff as an anchor amidst the push and pull of the crowd.


    He is the Beginning and the End, the Daystar and the Night Sky, Saviour of the World, came a stream of derations as the speaker raised his eyes upwards; he would have continued if Godfrey did not intercede.


    But what is his name? he asked with the same quiet voice.


    Does eternity have a name? Is the sun anything other than the sun?


    No, Godfrey replied, but this is something else.


    How would you know, the old man said with sneer.


    You are not as one among priests, Godfrey said, looking upwards in the city towards the temple district. These are not their words.


    The priests! eximed the crazed man, whose ribs were showing through his ripped tunic. They scurry like rats in the sewers they have built, temples to their own vanity! They shall be the first to be cleansed, he swore.


    While I am not wholly unsympathetic to your sentiments, Godfrey told him, I wonder what idol you would erect in ce of their temples.


    Not an idol, the madman replied, suddenly lowering his voice while his eyes shone once more. A living god, not of stone but of flesh, not with gems but with eyes, not deaf but who may hear our prayers and with a tongue to answer them with.


    And where does this god preside? Is he close? asked Godfrey.


    He waits, came the answer as the feverish eyes turned east. The city buildings and walls blocked the view, but the madman stared as if he could see further. Beyond walls, beyond moors, long has he slept in the mountain, but now he wakes! Now he wille, now he wille His voice trailed off. In the distance, they heard the cacophony of all the temple bells ringing to announce that nightfall hade and all decent folk should be off the streets.


    In the mountain? Godfrey suddenly said sharply as if the old mans voice had made him slumber but now he woke. Beyond the wall in the mountain, you say?


    That is what I said, I said what that is, the madman answered.


    What is your name? Godfrey now asked, more gently.


    My name? My name. It is gone consumed by the years until only I remained. A vessel, cleansed of impurities.


    You were taken prisoner as a child, Godfrey spected, speaking as much to himself as to the old man. Your mind and soul bent to this purpose and sent back when you had be willing.


    Willing? Yes, willing, so willing. One day I will be rewarded, one day, the old man repeated. One day I will stand in his presence.


    I fear this very moment is the closest you will ever know to something akin to his presence, Godfrey said, keeping his voice kind. Unless I am most mistaken.


    If not in this life, then the next, the old man imed with more serenity than he had disyed so far.


    It iste andst bell has rung, Godfrey said, changing the subject. Do you have a ce to stay? I could find you amodations for the night.


    I have my barrel, the old man said with a touch of pride, pointing to a barrel lying on its side behind him. I dont think I could sleep anywhere else, its so nice and dry and wooden in there. Only trouble is the neighbourhood scoundrels. When they are out carousing at night, they like to kick my poor barrel while Im inside, wake me up, heined.


    Go sleep in your barrel, Godfrey told him and walked over to the wall next to it. He let himself slide down against the wall until he was seated next to the old mans shanty home, holding his staff between his hands and in front of him. You will not be disturbed tonight.


    Very gracious of you, the haggard-looking man mumbled, climbing inside his barrel. I hope you will be spared the oing storm of righteousness.


    Question is rather if it will be spared from me, Godfrey said, his voice growing quiet once more; this time, the old man could not hear him. Time passed as the stars rose in the night sky; the moon was hidden behind clouds, and darkness surrounded Godfrey. Then, as if the moon had burst through the haze or a star exploded, a light red towards the north. It was not up in the heavens, however, but located on earth; it was a beacon ced upon Mount Tothmor and it signalled a breach of the long watch at the Langstan.


    Looks like I was most mistaken, Godfrey muttered with concern on his countenance; the only reply he received was a snore from inside the barrel.

 Chapter 20: City of Daggers

    Chapter 20: City of Daggers


    City of Daggers


    Tothmor


    In the third district, a young man stepped out of the temple of Egnil not long after dawn. His religious duties having been observed, he walked back to the gate and up to the second district, home to most of the nobility of Tothmor. His clothes were tailored with an expensive cut, but they were also worn. The youth entered a house that likewise had seen better days with weeds overtaking the surrounding gardens. There were no guards, and the door was unlocked and unattended by any servants. The young man threw his cloak from him and walked through the empty rooms. Layers of dust and filth covered the floors and austere furniture on his way as he walked through the house to reach its sparring hall. Sounds of movement and physical exertion soon reached him.


    Father? the young man called out as he stepped inside.


    I am here, boy, replied a voice belonging to a man in his fifties or sixties. He was wearing a leather jerkin and had a sword in hand with which he was punishing a wooden training doll.


    I am home again, Father, he said. The older man did not interrupt his movements but merely issued a confirming sound from his throat. I was at the temple, the son continued. It is early for you to be training your swordsmanship.


    Up at dawn, the older man said, his sword striking the dummy with precision. Every day.


    Still? I told you that is not necessary.


    Today it is of all days. The beacons were litst night.


    Yes, so I have heard. But it sounds like mere rumour, the youth dered.


    I saw it myself, awake in the night. They would not light the beacons for no cause. I must be prepared if the call goes out.


    You are not in the royal guard anymore. They will not make demands of you.


    I am still a man of rank, Hugh, his father replied, changing stance and beginning a new routine of attack. I must be prepared.


    Nobody will demand that of you, Father, Hugh reiterated. You do not have to be so worried.


    I am not worried, merely vignt. I am Lord Hubert, count of Esmarch, and it is my duty to be on guard, he spoke, his focus remaining on his wooden opponent; not once had he turned and looked at his son.


    Of course, Father, said his son more quietly. Keep your vignce. Everything will be better soon, I promise. He did not receive a reply to this, so Hugh turned and left his father alone.


    Leaving the house, Hugh walked through the second district until he reached the gate leading into the first. As he approached, a guard stepped into his way. Whats your business in the inner circle? he demanded to know, using a colloquial expression for the first district.


    I have been granted an audience with the steward of the pce, Hugh told them, producing a letter from inside his tunic. His words made both the guards size him up.


    Are you sure you have thought that through? one guard asked with a raised eyebrow directed at Hughs slightly shabby clothes while the other examined the letter that Hugh had brought with him.


    It is all I have been thinking of, Hugh replied. I am Hugh, son of Count Esmarch.


    The guards exchanged looks. Esmarch, one of them scoffed.


    Check him for weapons, the other nodded to hisrade, who did as asked. Hugh had to surrender the knife in his belt, which the soldiery aside, but was otherwise found to be unarmed.


    Watch yourself in there, the guard told him brusquely. Attend to your errand and be gone again.


    Hugh gave a grimace in response before he stepped forward. On his right, the path led up to the small keep belonging to the Order. On his left were various storehouses and servant quarters. Straight ahead, through lush gardens in clear contrast to the bleak heaths that surrounded the city, was the royal pce. It had once been built as a castle when Tothmor had been much smaller and it only consisted of the first district. Now the old city walls served to keep people out, and the Order keep was all that really remained of defensive structures inside the inner circle; it had been a watch tower for the original structure, now expanded and refitted for the Orders needs. Ignoring left and right, Hugh continued directly forward.


    He passed various armed men; unlike the city guards wielding spears, these had swords and ted armour above their mail shirts. They were the royal guards, keeping extensive watch around the gardens to safeguard the queen and her closest family such as her mother or her aunt, thedy Irene. Several of them were patrolling around the pce; at one point, Hugh stopped and hid from them. Rather than continue deeper into the pce, where one would expect to find the steward, Hugh diverted. He reached the rose gardens of the pce, where none of the soldiers were within immediate vicinity; nor were any courtiers, servants, or such to be found. This particr section was empty apart from a young girl strolling in solitude.


    She was some sixteen years of age and dressed richly; her brown curls framed a pretty face and were eloquently set with a diadem that proimed her rank in Hthiod.


    Your Majesty, Hugh called out as softly as he could without alerting others that might be within hearing distance.


    The girl turned around sharply and sent him a scowling look. Who are you? Everybody knows I am to be left alone here, Theodora said slightly shrill. Now leave before I have the guards throw you out!


    Just a moment of your time, please, the youth said. I am Hugh, son of


    I do not care! Theodora eximed. Leave!


    Without a word, Hugh ran forward and the queen backed a few steps to the side with an expression of growing fear. Then he was past her, and as she turned her head, she saw what had spurred him. A cloaked man with his hood up was fast approaching and had almost reached the queen; in his hand was a sh of steel. The unarmed Hugh reached out and tried to wrest the dagger from the unknown assant; his reward was a gash across his stomach before the dagger fell down on the paved path between the flowerbeds.


    Guards, guards! Theodora yelled while she walked backwards, putting distance between herself and the attacker without taking her eyes off him. This apparently discouraged him to such a degree that he turned and fled, disappearing out of sight. Soldiers arrived on the scene, moving with obvious threat towards Hugh. Not him! Theodora cried out. He ran! That way! she pointed out, and they took up the chase. Then she turned to look at Hugh, who was pressing a bloodied hand against his stomach. You need a physician, she said more gently, to which he nodded with gritted teeth.


    ~~~~


    With the sun slowly rising in the east, Godfrey blinked as its light reached above the city walls and into his eyes. Turning to the barrel by his side, he heard the same snore he had heard all night. nting his staff in front of him, Godfrey leaned one hand against the wall that had supported his back through the night and stood up. He walked a short distance down the street until he reached a small tavern. Due to the early hour, themon room was empty of people save for one man making preparations for the day.


    Gods peace to you and your house, Guy, Godfrey said, attracting the other mans attention.


    Geoffrey! eximed the proprietor as he pushed a barrel of beer into ce. In histe thirties, he had an ordinary appearance except in one regard; arge scar ran across his face, starting from the cheek and crossing his nose. When did you arrive in town? Just now?


    Yesterday, in fact, Godfrey exined.


    You did not stay with me? asked Guy puzzled.


    I was dyed, Godfrey said while nting his head. In fact I have not slept much. We may talkter, but for now I could use a bed.


    Go inside the back, take mine, Guy offered. I will not be needing it for a while. It will give me time to set something proper up for you.


    You are too kind, Godfrey said and dug out the purse given to him by the high priest of Rihimil.


    Oh no, you cannot pay me, Guy protested, waving his hands.


    It is not my money, Godfrey shrugged. Besides, I do not know how long I will be staying, and I will require some meals asionally, he added, cing several coins on the counter before he continued past Guy through a door leading into the back. He located the aforementioned bed and dropped his staff to lie down in it, cloak and sword and everything.


    While Godfrey slept, the tavern slowly began to receive its first customers for the day. Some were from the city, others were travellers from beyond; some came for food, some came for drink. As noon approached, a man entered, wearing a tunic and cloak in strong colours, a bright red cap with a feather in it, and with a six-stringed lute in his hands.


    Troy! yelled out a youth sitting by one of the tables before he rose to greet the bard. He had a cup of wine in each hand, and his slightly unsteady movements suggested he had sampled their contents. The bard crossed the room to stand opposite his friend.


    Leander, how much have you had to drink?


    Well, I ordered two cups of wine for us. Then I could not remember which was which, so I drank them both, Leander exined. His easy manner and rich attire made him stand out, not only from every other patron in the tavern but also from the entirety of the lower circle. Not to worry, I already had them refilled, he added with an attempt of a cunning expression.


    You shouldnt this early, Troy chastised him. Not to mention you were gone when I came to find you at the pce.


    You took so long, Leander shrugged, which made the liquid in the cups threaten to spill. I was thirsty, and I knew you would find me. Eventually.


    How about we sit down first, Troy suggested, which Leander did precariously. I had some affairs to tend to. And when I could not find you, I spent a few moments at the shrine of Egnil to give my offerings as any good minstrel should.


    Did Egnil reward you with any morsel of skill, or do you still sound like a sheep with indigestion?


    Not even all the divines could give you the skill for making jests, Troy retorted, grabbing one of the cups out of Leanders hand. Besides, you missed a most exciting spectacle at the pce.


    Do not tell me that Irene had somebody decapitated, Leander said drunkenly before emptying the remaining cup.


    No, this did not involve thedy Irene, Troy said, entuating her title that Leander had left out. There was an attempt made on the queens life.


    Is Theodora hurt? Leander said with sudden sharpness.


    No, she was saved by some youngster, I do not know him. I did not see it myself, but I saw the attacker! Before he fled, Troy exined.


    He fled? Where did this happen? Leander asked, rxing again.


    In the rose gardens, Troy borated. But I was inside the pce. He came running down the hall, pushed me aside, and vanished. It was only afterwards when guards appeared that I understood who he was.


    How could he escape? Leander wondered, his voice growing thick and slurred again. The guards usually swarm over those gardens like bees. He added his best impression of the sound of the honey-gathering insect to his statement. Bees.


    Nobody knows, Troy shrugged. But it was most exciting. Worthy to be made into a song, perhaps.


    Or a toast! Leander suddenly eximed, standing up without warning. Realising his cup was empty, he reached out and grabbed hold of Troys; unfortunately, as he snatched the cup towards himself, it was emptied. The wine sttered across the table next to them where three men were seated.


    They were snow gatherers who ventured to the top of Mount Tothmor, where they gathered the ever-snow and brought it back, selling it to the wealthy as means of keeping beverages cool in the summer; an upation that either bred the tough or broke the weak. The mountain men rose slowly but with furious eyes, and the tavern fell quiet as everybody became aware of what was brewing. Guy, the tavern owner, rushed forward to intervene. Please, this was an ident. No need to be rash.


    Rash? And who will repay me for this insult? said the man whose hair and clothes were soaked with wine. As he pulled up the sleeves on his shirt, he disyed his forearms that could rival a Dwarfs.


    Excuse me, who will repay me for my wine, Leander countered, dangling the empty cup in front of the three miners. If you intend to bathe in it, I expect to bepensated, he said with a grin.


    Before further words could be exchanged, thergest of the three men made a fist and struck squarely on Leanders jaw. He in turn flew backwards several steps, stumbled for a moment, and swung around as he fell,nding t on his stomach. This is Lord Leander, Troy winced as the three men made to advance upon the fallen youth. He is the kings son!


    The kings bastard, you mean, one of the snow gatherers said, narrowing his eyes. Well, the kings been dead for years, which makes him just a bastard.


    What is all this noise? Godfrey demanded to know as he appeared in the frame of the back door. I am here to sleep.


    None of your business, said the mountain man brusquely who had thrown the punch.


    Godfreys eyes quickly darted between the men, Guys frantic expressions, and Leander lying on the floor with his face against the floorboards. Godfrey squatted and grabbed hold of Leanders hair to pull the youths head up, looking into eyes that were out of focus. Frowning for a moment, Godfrey made his decision as he let go of Leanders head. This is the end of it. Go somewhere else, he told the three burly men.


    Or what? one of them replied with obvious threat. Godfrey rose and pulled the edge of his cloak back to reveal the sword hanging by his left side, which gave the belligerent men pause. A sword was a weapon of skill and training, denoting both in one who wore such a weapon; some nobles might be an exception to this, but a sword was too expensive for a man ofmon appearance like Godfrey to own unless he knew how to use it. Exchanging looks, the mountain men growled but left.


    Thank you, Geoffrey, the tavern owner said to Godfrey.


    I shallpose a song in your honour, Troy said gratefully, already moving towards his lute.


    Right now I just need silence, Godfrey said, waving his hand to dismiss their gratitude before returning to bed.


    On the floor, Leander stirred, getting to his feet. What happened? the youth asked the bard.


    Once more your luck proved greater than yourck of wit, Troy told Leander. He reached for one of the cups of wine only to be reminded that they were empty. You are paying for next round too, the bard said to the bastard.


    ~~~~


    Inside the pce, certain chambers were set aside for the royal physician. There were rooms acting as living quarters for him, a ce where he could create his poultices and potions, and one where he examined his patients; except for the royal family, of course, in which case he woulde to them. Since it was Hugh and not Theodora who had been injured, the youth had gone to the physicians chambers, and Theodora had followed to oversee his treatment.


    It is not a deep cut, the old sage said after having cleansed the wound and checked the bleeding. You were fortunate indeed. It will not require stitches, merely that you rest and allow it time to heal. I will put a poultice upon it to keep away infection.


    Thank you, Brother Laurence, Theodora said. Like all respected physicians, Laurence was ay brother of the priesthood of Idisea, evidenced by a thin silver chain around his neck with a raven pendant. While the priestesses themselves dealt with birth, death, and certain elements of sick care and only women could join their priesthood, they educated many men in the arts of healing to serve asy brothers and alleviate their obligations to care for the sick.


    Yes, thank you indeed, Hugh reiterated, who was sitting on a table so that they brother could inspect him. Laurence gave a throat noise to indicate it was nothing before cleaning thest few blood drops that had trickled from Hughs wound, and then he turned towards his mortars and powders. The patient let his shirt and doublet drop down to cover his torn skin and protect his modesty, though the wound was still visible where the fabric had been shed.


    Theodora! The owner of the voice immediately burst into the room; it was a woman in her early forties, followed by thedy Irene, the unofficial regent of Hthiod.


    I am fine, Mother, the young queen said as the younger of the women rushed over to grab her daughters hands.


    Lady Beatrice, Hugh said, getting up to greet the mother of the queen. He ced one hand above his wound where his shirt and doublet was torn, wincing slightly from the effort. Lady Irene, he said slightly strained, greeting the regent.


    And you are? Irene asked coldly.


    This is Hugh, dear aunt, Theodora quickly replied. He came between me and the attacker. He saved me.


    Son of Count Esmarch, at your service, Hugh added, bowing with a grimace.


    Count Esmarch? Beatrice said questioningly.


    Is that so, Irene replied with an ounce of suspicion.


    In any case, we are most grateful for your presence, Beatrice hurried to add whilst still sping her daughters hands.


    It was my pleasure to serve my queen, Hugh answered, smiling at both Beatrice as well as Theodora. Has the attacker been apprehended?


    Not yet, Irene said, her voice remaining cold. It is only a matter of time.


    You will increase the guard surrounding Her Majesty, I take it? Hugh ventured to say.


    Yes, thank you, Irene said with enough sharpness to cut silk. It will be taken care of.


    I do not wish to speak out of ce, Hugh began to say.


    Then do not, Irene said with an acerbic tone, but Hugh continued to speak directed at Theodora.


    My father guarded your uncle, the king, Hugh told her. While I know such honour is beyond my bounds, it was my privilege to aid you in the same manner.


    Thank you, Irene said with a tone of voice that directed attention back to her. We have it well in hand. Come, Theodora, Beatrice, let us leave Brother Laurence to his work. Upon hermand, the other women in the room followed her outside, though Theodora had time to cast a lingering nce and smile at Hugh, which he returned. Behind the patient, Laurence mumbled to himself as he prepared the poultice for Hughs wound.


    ~~~~


    East of the pce, but still inside the inner circle of Tothmor,y the small keep belonging to the Order garrison. It currently housed a handful of knights, some thousand infantry, and half as many archers as there were footmen; many of them were newly arrived from the Langstan, having fled before the ounder invasion. The modest keep consisted mostly of barracks for the soldiers and a tall tower that offered vignce across the city. Near the very top of the tower, a man wearing the robes of a clerk knocked to enter the rooms ced up there. A voice inside gave him admittance, and the scribe stepped into a small study with a bedchamber adjacent.


    Milord marshal, the clerk said, bowing his head to the Order marshal of Hthiod.


    What news? asked the marshal gruffly. He was an old man with little hair on his head; a lengthy white beard crowned his wrinkled face instead, which was unusual in a city where most were clean-shaven or had trimmed beards. On his aged body, the marshal wore a mail shirt underneath a surcoat like an ordinary soldier would when in camp, and a sword was strapped to his side.


    The beacon keeper confirms, Sir Leonard, the clerk informed the knight. The beacons at the Weolcans were litst night. The eastern Langstan has been breached.


    Have patrols sent out, the marshal ordered his secretary. Gather what knowledge they can. We also need to send out riders to begin conscription.


    Yes, milord, the secretary said, bowing his head again. You think that will be necessary?


    This has been underway for so long, I cannot recall a time before this storm threatened, Leonard said. Yes, it is necessary. But I will inform the queen myself that the noblemen must raise their levies. Just have the patrols sent out.


    At once, milord, the secretary told the marshal and left.


    The old knight, left alone in his study, walked over towards the window. He had a superb view of all five districts as they descended the hill, separated by walls and the small towers on the gates. His old eyes could not discern the people crowding the streets, but he could see the many housesid out below, increasing in number the further down his gaze swept. Although possibly the smallest of the seven capitals of Adalmearc, Tothmor still had a poption of tens of thousands, and in the very moment that the beacons were lit, all of these citizens had be his responsibility to safeguard. Stroking his beard, the marshal sighed; with a deep breath, he turned away from the window and walked out to seek audience with the queen of Hthiod.


    ~~~~


    When it waste afternoon, a small hand shook Godfrey and roused him from his sleep. Master, master! said a young boy insistently while still shaking Godfrey.


    Godfrey opened his eyes and looked up in the rafters above the innkeepers bed before he turned to look at the little boy. Where is the fire? Godfrey mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.


    Theres no fire, master, the boy replied.


    Then you should not wake a dragon, you will get one, Godfrey coughed aughter before sitting up and swinging his legs out of bed. You are Guys son, right?


    I am, master, the boy said. My dad said to wake you. To get you back in themon room.


    You may consider your duty done, Godfrey muttered, getting up.


    He straightened his hair and rearranged his cloak after having slept on it. Afterwards he adjusted his belt and the scabbard that hung by it, making sure it was further back on his waist and concealed by the cloak. With all this done, he finally emerged back into themon room of the tavern.


    Guy was busy tending to his patrons, but when Godfrey entered the room, Guy got his attention and nodded towards a corner of the room. In that particr corner sat a man who was in most respects unremarkable; the only thing that might make him stand out was that he had more beard growth than was considered fashionable in Hthiod. Once Guy had managed to silently make Godfrey aware of the neer, Godfrey nodded in thanks and made his way over to the corner. The man was sitting at a table on whichy a chequered board. Various pieces carved in the likeness of people and objects were spread across it. It resembled chess, though it had certain characteristics that made it different from the northern variety yed in Adalrik.


    Still ying against yourself? Godfrey said as he took the empty seat across the moustached man.


    Geoffrey, the other man said sourly. Have not seen much of youtely. Years, in fact.


    I tend to turn up unexpected like a rash, Godfrey smiled. Or tax collectors. ying alone might make you look a little odd.


    I like the challenge, the bearded man spoke.


    Is that so, Godfrey muttered. Well, how you keep your guise is your choice.


    If you would keep your voice lower and attract less attention, the other man mumbled, that would help.


    As you wish, Godfrey conceded and spoke in lower tones. The beacon was litst night. I did not realise your ns had progressed so.


    I buy information from you. You do not gain any from me, came the reply.


    Come now, Farhad, Godfrey said, leaning forward with a smile. You could share a little.


    Do not use that name! eximed Farhad. You know what I am called here.


    What these people call you, yes. But I wonder what they would say if they knew the truth.


    You would not dare, Farhad scoffed, leaning back. You would hang right next to me.


    I suppose, Godfrey admitted with a shrug.


    So why have youe to disturb my game? asked the ounder, once more rearranging the pieces on the board. Anything to sell?


    Godfrey hesitated a moment, thoughts churning in his head. The lord marshal of the Order has been elected lord protector of Adalrik, he finally said.


    Interesting, replied Farhad with his attention on the board. But not important.


    The young prince is to be a ward of the jarl of Vale, promising to increase the jarls already sizeable influence.


    Again, interesting but not important.


    Now that those beacons are lit, the Order will be sending their army, Godfrey spoke.


    Do you know anything of this army?


    There are about five hundred knights in Middanhal. I suspect that will be the vanguard, making its way towards Tothmor as soon as they can.


    This final piece of information made Farhad stop his movements on the board. Better, he said, looking up. He opened his purse and poured a handful coins onto the table.


    You are being stingy, Farhad, Godfrey said, lowering his voice but adding emphasis for thest word.


    Do not press your luck, Farhad said. Without further words, he got up and left.


    Boy, Godfrey called out to Guys son. Fetch my staff from the back. Quickly, he added. The boy turned around, ran through the door, and returned shortly after with Godfreys staff. Thanks, Godfrey said gruffly and pointed towards the silver coins that Farhad had left on the table. Give those to your father, Godfreymanded and hastened out the door. He quickly spotted Farhad moving down the street and began pursuit, though keeping distance and his hood up to conceal his face.


    ~~~~


    When the first evening bell had rung and there was still some lingering daylight outside, a priest in a yellow robe moved through the second district. He passed the gate downwards and entered the third circle that was dominated by the temples. Moving east, he walked until he reached the temple of Egnil, which was decorated in the same colour as his garments. The temple guards nodded slightly at seeing him return, weing him home. He walked through the halls until he reached the personal chambers of the high priest of Egnil in Tothmor and knocked.


    Enter, came a voice from inside. The priest did as much, walking into the presence of his superior. Brother Gregory. You arete in returning, the high priest said. Considering the nature of your errand, I was starting to have my doubts.


    I pretended to be in prayer at the pce shrine, Gregory answered. I thought it best not to leave the inner circle too soon. The guards would have noticed me passing through the gate.


    So it went ording to n?


    Gregory nodded. Our friends inside the pce ensured my ess without hindrance, and the boy was there to stop me as intended. Once I put on my robes, none guessed that I was the culprit.


    Good. It has been set in motion then. The rest depends on the boy.


    Brother Aubrey, Gregory said hesitantly, was it wise to enact our ns already? In our haste we might have overlooked something.


    The beacons were lit, muttered the high priest. The counts and their sons will most likely be conscripted and sent to battle. We could not risk dy.


    As you say, the lesser priest conceded while bowing his head.


    Now he is entrenched at court and has cause to remain there, and he can carry out our designs. Worry no more, Brother Gregory. Go rest, Aubrey told him.


    I shall, Reverend One, the other man answered and left ordingly.

 Chapter 21: Taverns and Palaces

    Chapter 21: Taverns and Pces


    Taverns and Pces


    Tothmor


    Little over a week passed since the lighting of the beacons and the attempt to murder the queen. Life continued as normal in Tothmor, but anxiety had crept into the city andy stirring below the surface. The first reports of the ounder army had reached the capital, and they spoke of thousands if not tens of thousands. Hitherto, the people of the heath had only known those beyond the Langstan as raiders, thieves, and brigands. ckboots, as they were called. An actual army marching together with a purpose was something hitherto unimaginable. Thus, it was met with immense relief when the guard on the outer city wall raised the cry that the Order army had arrived.


    From all over the city in every district, people lined up along the road to watch the entry of the army. Ranks of imposing riders, knights and their squires or sergeants in gleaming armour and heavily armed. At the forefront rode the lord marshal and his first lieutenant, Sir William. While people cheered loudly upon seeing their defenders, both leaders of the Order vanguard had grim countenances.


    As soon as we arrive, I want the queen to assemble her counts. We need the levies raised without dy, Reynold dered.


    Of course, my lord, William replied. I suggest we speak to thedy Irene, however. Best before we speak with Queen Theodora.


    The dowager queen? I do not see what importance she holds, Reynold argued.


    Unless matters have changed greatly since I left, she is of the utmost importance. Her niece may be queen, but thedy Irene rules, William told the lord marshal.


    I never really understood how thest session took ce here, Reynold mumbled as they passed the gate into the fourth district. I thought thest king had a son.


    He did, my lord, William exined, but the mother of this son was not the dowager queen, Lady Irene. It was to be expected that she would oppose his ascension to the throne.


    Ah, Reynold said knowingly. That is alwaysplicated.


    Indeed. When the king was on his deathbed, tensions rose greatly. The lord Leander was the only male heir, but his im could not be recognised.


    So how did the crown pass to Queen Theodora? Reynold asked confused.


    She was the kings niece, William continued patiently. Her mother is thedy Beatrice, who was sister to King Everard, and so he adopted her. Once he died, Lady Irene, now dowager queen, had Queen Theodora crowned immediately to quell any dispute of session.


    How old is this Queen Theodora exactly? Reynold enquired.


    I left twelve years ago, and she was four at the time, I believe, William said, making calctions. Sixteen, my lord.


    This all happened before I was lord marshal, Reynold muttered as they bowed their heads while riding through the gate to the third district. Both men noticed how many of the onlookers wore robes in the different colours of the priesthoods. I did not know the state of affairs in Hthiod.


    It was a  troublesome time, William said, spending a few moments in choosing his words. But that is how matters currently stand. Officially, the queen regnant is named Theodora. In truth, the regent is Lady Irene.


    So it is Lady Irene we must inform to call the levies, the lord marshal said, finally understanding.


    Yes. Unofficially, beforehand. Once she epts, we must make a public request to the queen, William instructed.


    Hel on a horse, Reynold cursed. This is tooplicated for my taste. They do realise that this Theodora is a vassal queen, do they not? She is subject to my authority as lord marshal of the Order.


    No doubt they are aware, my lord, William said in his most patient voice, but nheless it might ensure everything went more smoothly if we observe the proper procedures. Formal as well as informal.


    Reynold sputtered a few more indignities as they rode onwards, leaving the third district in their approach towards the inner circle and the Order garrison.


    As the procession of riders passed through the city circles, a group of white robes were among those looking. Some had purely white robes, signifying their status as acolytes. A few had the ck bear signalling they had been initiated into the priesthood, and one stood with the patterned hem descrying him as the high priest of Hamaring in Tothmor. Damn beacons, muttered the highest ranking of the white robes. We should have acted before the Order knights arrived.


    We were not ready, Reverend One, said the priest next to him. It would have failed.


    But what now, Brother Renard? Are you advising we postpone until this war has ended? I will not wait for what might take years! the high priest eximed in a sudden outburst, drawing attention.


    Peace, Reverend One, Renard said quietly. Let us speak back at the temple. With a disgruntled expression, the high priest epted this suggestion, and they moved out of the crowd. From a distance, Godfrey watched their departure; as they left, so did he, following in their wake but remaining unseen.


    The crowd in the second district was a curious mix of servants and nobles. While most of them, particrly themonborn, expressed the same relief as others that the Order knights had arrived to defend the city, some of the counts and their rtives were less thrilled. With the Order here, levies were now to be raised; this meant paying for equipment and provisions, not to mention many peasants would not be avable to bring in the harvest for their lords.


    Thus, the mood in the second district was prised, though two of the onlookers seemed unaffected. Troy was making note of the knights riding in rank and already mumbling a few attempts ofposing verse; Leander was watching with disinterest. They were sitting on the wall between the third and second district, which gave them a good view of the long columns of riders processing through the city. Troy had his lute between his hands, while Leander waszily eating a carrot.


    There arent as many as I would have thought. Troy said, abandoning his unfinished strophes.


    They could hardly bring more soldiers in, Leander argued. There is barely going to be room for all these horses in the city.


    But are they enough to defend it? Troy asked. What are they, six, seven hundred strong?


    Closer to a thousand, Leander guessed with a shrug. Anyway, these are just the knights and their attendants, I would wager. Those fellows are always ready and itching for a fight. The infantry will probably follow at their own pace.


    You think? I hope so if the rumours of the ounder army are true.


    My father did it this way as do the march wardens, Leander continued exining. Have a strong force of riders always avable so you can quickly react in times of war. The rest of the army follows if and as needed.


    Sometimes I forget you know things, Troy admitted reluctantly.


    Part of my disguise to avoid being saddled with responsibilities, Leander said, throwing the end piece of his carrot over the wall. An outburst of anger could be heard from where itnded, but since they were separated by a wall, nothing followed. Come along. I know where we can get something to drink.


    Should you not be at the pce? For when the queen receives the Order knights?


    Good grief, I could not imagine anything more tedious. No, the alluring song of wine calls to me. A tune vastly superior to anything you have ever plucked, so I suggest you pay attention and learn a thing or two.


    Im rather low on silver these days, Troy admitted.


    Again? Leander said, raising an eyebrow, to which Troy simply shrugged. Very well. You can pretend to pay the tavern keeper with a song. I will slip him some coin meanwhile and preserve your dignity, Leander said casually, elicitingughter from Troy before the twopatriots walked down the wall, disappearing into the crowds.


    ~~~~


    It took hours for all five hundred knights as well as their squires and sergeants to pass through the city circles and reach the first district. Once there, space quickly became an issue as there were barely quarters enough for this influx of men, not to mention their horses. Leaving the responsibility to others and his horse to his sergeant, the lord marshal quickly left the open yards of the inner circle of Tothmor and walked straight for the pce; as his first lieutenant, William had no choice but to follow Reynold immediately.


    Their pace lessened slightly as Reynold allowed William to catch up and lead the way; unlike the lord marshal, William had been in the pce before, and he knew the route to the throne room. As with most buildings in Tothmor, the pce was not built very tall, and so the throne room was somewhat unusual. Whereas in other kingdoms they would have built a great hall to emphasise size and make the visitor feel small, such was not possible here.


    Therefore, while the audience room wasrge enough to amodate hundreds of people, the roof stood only a little higher than the tallest of men. Columns were also erected at intervals, upholding the low ceiling and acting as gathering points for courtiers behind which they might whisper and exchange idle chatter. Such noise of tongues rose to a mour as the lord marshal strode into the room with William by his side; they walked briskly through the hall towards the elevated throne in the other end.


    Upon it sat Theodora, queen of Hthiod. By her left hand stood her aunt, Lady Irene, and her mother, Lady Beatrice. By her right hand stood Brother Dominic, high priest of Rihimil in Tothmor and the court seer. Close by, now wearing armour and weapons, stood Hugh. Ever since saving the queens life from the attacker in the garden, he had often been found near the queen. As the two knights came to stand before the throne, they each bowed, Reynold as a nobleman to an equal, while William gave a bow to one acknowledged as a superior.


    We bid you wee, Sir Reynold, Theodora spoke with a clear voice once she had cleared her throat. It is reassuring to know the Orders swift response towards the incursion of our enemies.


    Mydy queen, Reynold said, returning the greeting. We are honoured to stand here in pursuit of our duty. With me I have brought five hundred knights, and thousands of footmen are to follow.


    That is promising to hear, Theodora replied. Reports say that the ounder army is many thousand strong.


    That is true, mydy queen, Reynold acknowledged. While the Orders ultimate victory is not in doubt, we will require every sword and bow avable. But perhaps such is better spoken of under less formal terms.


    If that is your cautious approach towards the subject of calling for conscription, you need not be concerned, Lady Irene interjected. We have already sent out messages summoning the counts and the march wardens, including their levies and standing forces.


    That is most clear-sighted of you, mydy, Reynold muttered. I did not realise such foresight reigned in Tothmor.


    We are well aware of the danger emitting from beyond the Langstan, Lady Irene said with a cold smile.


    It was I who told them to begin mobilisation, an old, gnarled voice broke in. Parting the crowds of courtiers came Leonard, marshal of Hthiod. His armour and surcoat looked heavy upon his old body, but he stood upright and showed no signs of frailty as he reached the throne and gave the queen a small bow.


    Sir Leonard, Reynold said gruffly. You took it upon yourself to issuemands before my arrival?


    I was given the duty of marshal thirty years ago, Leonard retorted. I took nothing upon myself. I only carried out themand given to me when I was made marshal.


    Would this be your first lieutenant? Irene asked, interrupting the argument between the marshals with a question directed towards William.


    Indeed, mydy. Sir William of Tothmor, dered champion at solstice in Middanhal and a great champion of the Order as well, Reynold introduced his aide.


    He is known to us, Irene said, and again she spoke with a smile thatcked any warmth. Even if it has been many years since Sir William was in this city.


    I am grieved to only return in such ill times, William spoke for the first time and turned his attention from Irene to Theodora. But I am d to see my queen in such good health.


    And we are happy that in such ill times you have returned to our defence, Theodora said cordially. Irene ced a hand lightly on her shoulder before removing it again. Lord marshal, we are certain you have preparations to make. We will give you leave of our presence that you may tend to them, the queen said and rose. As she walked down from her throne, her courtiers bowed their heads. She moved to leave the room, followed by her aunt Irene, her mother Beatrice, the court seer Brother Dominic, and finally Hugh.


    As the small procession moved through the hall, everybody stepped away to let the queen and her followers pass. One of these, ady with her own servilepanion, exchanged scornful nces with Irene as thetter walked by. As soon as the queens retinue had retired from the hall, thedy turned to her handmaiden. Did you see the contempt that Irene shows me? sheined.


    She is only jealous, Lady Diane, replied her personal attendant. It was you who gave the king a son, not her. She will always be envious of that.


    Yes, my son. Where is Leander? I explicitly told him he was to be present today.


    Your son has his own will, the handmaiden said cautiously. He is a strong character like his father was.


    Stubborn, you mean, Diane said, sounding exasperated. Nothing I say will ever take root inside that head of his.


    Come, Lady Diane, and let me prepare you some tea, said the servant in a soothing voice, leading herdy away by the arm.


    At the other end of the room, the lord marshal and the marshal of Hthiod along with William left the chamber; a rising argument between the marshals could easily be heard over the whispers of the court attendants.


    ~~~~


    The excitement of the Orders arrival lingered for many hours in Tothmor until daylight began to grow scarce and most people returned to their homes. Among their number was Godfrey, who now upied one of the vacant rooms at Guys inn. Upon entry to the establishment, however, Godfrey did not go upstairs but told Guys son to bring him an evening meal and sat down at a table by the window. It gave him a view of the madman that Godfrey had encountered upon his first day in Tothmor. He was still ranting and raving, and nearly all who passed by ignored him.


    A short while after, Godfreys meal arrived in a bowl. It was delivered by Guy, who sat down afterwards. I have seen very little of you thesest few days, Guy ventured to say.


    I have not had much time for rest or food, Godfrey replied. I rarely seem to do.


    Anything interesting?


    Godfrey shrugged. Just keeping an eye on people. There is something simmering in the city, just below the surface. And the whiterobes seem to be in the thick of it.


    The priests of Hamaring? Guy asked surprised. What could they be up to?


    It seems they all want the same, gaining the position of court seer. Or in the case of the ckrobes, retaining it.


    Never really understood what the fuss was about there, Guy admitted with a guilty look.


    It is a high position at court, it brings influence. Hthiod has no dominant clergy like all the other realms of Adalmearc, Godfrey exined. To be court seer elevates your priesthood above all the others.


    I thought priests didnt care about all that, Guy mumbled, which made the corners of Godfreys mouth curl.


    Perhaps they should not, but they do. At least the position is only given to men, Godfrey said with a mirthless smile. Imagine the chaos if the priestesses were also plotting.


    Why does this concern you, though? Guy asked and hastily continued. Not that I doubt your intentions. I just thought, courtiers and people of high influence, arent they always making schemes? Does it make a difference to us?


    True, they are, Godfrey conceded, and normally I would argue in favour of giving the priests a dagger each, locking them in a room, and letting them settle it that way. But, Godfrey said, now more contemtive, but, something is different. Madmen preach of new faiths, and I think people are listening. Maybe only covertly, maybe only few, but there are always some who will listen.


    What does that mean?


    I do not know, Godfrey had to admit. But the beacons lit, trouble in Adalrik, murmurs in Hthiod I feel like a storm is about to break. I cannot see it yet, but I sense the pressure against my skin. There was a brief silence as Godfrey seemed lost in thought, and the tavern keeper did not disturb him. Myck of knowledge on the Hthian court impairs me, Godfrey said at length. Who is the current ruler?


    Queen Theodora, Guy said with a slightly confused look.


    I realise she is the monarch, Godfrey said with a hint of impatience, butst I was here, she was a child. That was not many years ago.


    Shes still young, Guy said, sounding uncertain about the exact nature of their conversation. I dont think I know what youre asking, Master Geoffrey. But maybe there is somebody here who does, he added.


    You entertain members of court here? Godfrey said, not able to hide the notion of disbelief from his voice.


    Not as such. Lord Leander has been here a few times, but he prefers wine from Ealond. But his friend, however, Guy added and pointed towards a man sitting with a lute in the other end of themon room.


    The bard was ying it somewhat quietly; he was not giving an actual performance, but perhaps preparing for one or simply checking his instrument was in tune. You have a bard ying at your establishment? Godfrey asked with raised eyebrows.


    Not as such, Guy repeated his phrase with a shrug. But he ys here from time to time, and I give him something to eat. Plus, when he does bring Lord Leander here, his lordship puts a lot of coin in my pockets.


    Is he ying The Sorrow of Glen Hollow? Godfrey asked with a frown as he strained to listen to Troys song through the noise of the room. Rather odd considering we are in Tothmor, not Middanhal.


    To be honest, I think it is the only song he knows how to y properly, Guy confided in Godfrey with a whisper. I dont always know if he helps me keep patrons or if he drives them away. But, Lord Leanders silver Guy shrugged again. In any case, Troy is often at the pce. He is the one to ask, the tavern keeper finished.


    Let me have two mugs of ale, Godfrey requested, and bring the bard a meal in a moment. Guy nodded and readily supplied two drinks overflowing with foam.


    Godfrey waited until Troy had finished his song before he walked over with the ale and took the seat by the bards table. Wait, I remember you, Troy eximed. You are the man who helped my friend!


    Indeed, I thought you were familiar, Godfrey said. I am called Geoffrey.


    I am Troy. Troy the Troubadour, he added with a smile.


    I would restrain myself to just Troy if I were you, Godfrey confided in him, to which Troy gave a defeated shrug. I thought you might appreciate this, the traveller spoke while letting one hand slide the second tankard of ale towards hispanion.


    My gratitude, Troy replied, grabbing the mug and raising it in salute before he drank deeply.


    I wondered about the song you yed, Godfrey said meanwhile. It is unusual to hear songs of the dragonborn in Hthiod.


    I always liked the tune, Troy exined. You from the city?


    No, newly arrived, Godfrey shook his head. From Adalrik, in fact.


    Middanhal? Troy asked with piqued interest.


    Exactly, Godfrey nodded.


    Always wanted to go there. See the Temple, Troy said with a dreaming voice.


    It is quite the sight, Godfrey agreed. Perhaps you would even have the chance to y your tune and have the dragonborn hear it, the traveller suggested.


    That might be a bit much to aim for, Troy said with an anxious grin.


    I hear that you have illustriouspany yourself, though, Godfrey proceeded. Perhaps not dragonborn, but princely nheless. You must be a bard of some renown to have attracted royal patronage.


    Who, Leander? Troy spoke with mirth. Hes just a friend, hardly a patron. Ive known him since we were children.


    Quite a friend to have, still, Godfrey argued. I admit, I am curious about court life, he continued with careful words. Something I never quite understood. I have been told that Queen Theodora was crowned many years ago when she was still a child, which strikes me as unusual.


    Yes, she was four years old or so, I think. And that was twelve years ago? Or something, Troy said. Oh, thank you, he added as Guy passed by their table and ced a bowl of stew and a piece of bread in front of him.


    I seem to remember she was not thete kings daughter, however, Godfrey said tentatively, and the talkative Troy needed no further encouragement.


    Oh no, he said while chewing his bread. She is the daughter of Lady Beatrice, who was the kings sister. He adopted her as his heir.


    Ahead of your friend if I have understood correctly? Leander was his name, Godfrey said, cautiously treading the waters of the conversation.


    Yes, Troy replied, his voice growing quiet for a moment. For the best, I think. Leander isnt interested in ruling, and he probably wouldnt know what to do with it either, the bard continued.


    So it was the kings idea to adopt Theodora? But others must have supported the idea, ensuring it came to pass even after the kings death, Godfrey suggested.


    It was thedy Irenes idea, Troy said, stuffing stew into his mouth. The old queen. Shes dowager queen now I guess. She made sure Queen Theodora was crowned and that all the counts epted it. Well, most of them.


    I see, Godfrey said contemtively. I can imagine this Lady Irene would not have been keen on seeing Leander bing king after his father.


    Hardly, Troy managed to snort with a full mouth; then he swallowed and spoke again. She was always at odds with his mother, Lady Diane, Ive been told. Of course, happened before my time, Troy shrugged. I only got to know Leander after his father had already passed. I do know Lady Irene has never shown Leander any kindness. Living proof that the king sought another womanspany than hers, I suppose.


    Not to mention proof that he could father children. Just not with her, Godfrey muttered.


    I never thought of that, Troy admitted, ceasing to eat for a moment. I guess Leander never stood a chance with her.


    Troy continued eating while Godfrey leaned back in his seat. King Everard and Queen Irene, no children. Leander, the bastard son of Everard. Theodora, the daughter of Beatrice, who in turn is sister of Everard, Godfrey recited. Theodora is queen, but Irene rules. For now.


    Sounds about right, Troy nodded and used his remaining bread to soak up thest of the stew and clean the bowl out.


    I am starting to regret my foray into the court of Hthiod, Godfrey said with a strained voice, rubbing his forehead. Something else that I wonder about, though.


    Yes? Troy spoke willingly. With his food gone, he picked up his instrument again and tested the strings.


    Who appointed the current court seer? Godfrey asked.


    Brother Dominic? Troy asked, plucking one string and listening intently to the sound it produced. Lady Irene, I think. He was the one who crowned Queen Theodora at her behalf.


    Seems usible, Godfrey nodded. So shes unlikely to cast him aside.


    I suppose, Troy said, sounding disinterested as his attention was on his lute.


    But the queen is growing up. And one might influence her to make her own choice rather than Lady Irenes, Godfrey considered.


    A shrill sound came from Troys instrument as he identally pulled on the strings. Why are you asking me all this? the bard said with a frown as his attention returned to Godfrey.


    A bitte for you to consider that, Godfrey said dryly. He leaned forward and stared into Troys eyes until thetter moved ufortably in his seat. But you do not seem like a bad soul, Godfrey finally said and released Troy from his gaze.


    Is that some sort ofpliment? Troy mumbled.


    The highest, Godfrey smiled in a way that made it impossible to deduce if he was mocking the other man or not. Since you do seem rather fond of talking, you will understand if I am hesitant to enlighten you.


    I told you what I know, Troy said sourly. If this concerns my friend, I ought to know.


    I do not know if it concerns him, Godfrey said, his voice now earnest. I will tell you this. There are schemes within plots within conspiracies in this city. For better or worse, I would say you have cast your lot with me.


    I dont want to be involved in any of that, Troy was quick to say. Nor does Leander.


    We do not choose whether we wish to y, Godfrey remarked, only which side to y. If you hesitate to trust me, which may be the first sign of intelligence you have shown, then ask Guy, the wanderer said while nodding towards the tavern keeper. I may need your help in the future. If you grant it, in return I shall do mine to help your friend. As I have already done once in this very ce, I might add, Godfrey finished; he stood up, gathered his hat and staff, and left the tavern.


    ~~~~


    In the pce corridors, thedy Beatrice walked towards her daughters chambers. They were in the innermost part of the pce, built right against the mountainside; the reasoning was to make it as difficult as possible to infiltrate the pce at night and reach the monarch. As Beatrice approached, she saw numerous guards; their numbers had increased since the foiled attempt on the queen. Just as Beatrice reached the doors to Theodoras rooms, they opened and revealed the same person who had kept the dagger from reaching the queen. Hugh wasughing and had his head turned towards the chamber even as he left, speaking some words in jest. As he turned to face forward and saw Beatrice, her presence made his countenance formal again.


    Lady Beatrice, Hugh greeted her and bowed slightly. She in turn nodded at him as she passed him and entered the royal chambers. There she was met by the sight of Theodora and her handmaiden, sitting on the queens bed and exchangingughter.


    Theodora, Beatrice said to gain their attention. Theodoras servant immediately fell silent while the queen looked at her mother.


    Mother, Theodora said, still with a smile on her face. What brings you at this hour?


    I notice that I am not the only one visiting you atte hours, Beatrice said with less mirth than her daughter, ncing back at the doors through which Hugh had left.


    He entertains me, Theodora said in a casual tone. I am morefortable in his presence than alone.


    You have your share of guards already, Beatrice argued.


    They cannot show me the same attention, Theodora countered.


    To this, Beatrice fell silent for a moment. She turned to look at the handmaiden. Leave us. The young girl immediatelyplied and left the queen alone with her mother. Theodora, you must be careful.


    Mother, Theodora replied while rolling her eyes. Do not be silly. It is not as if we spend any time alone.


    That is not my sole concern, came the answer. Take care to whom you gift your attention.


    Mother, Theodora repeated, sounding even more exasperated. Somebody tried to murder me! Do you really begrudge me the presence of the man who saved me?


    Not at all, Beatrice hastened to say. But if you show him too much favour, others will take note.


    And if they do? The queen may grant her favour to anyone, Theodora said forcefully.


    People will question how far those favours extend. As long as you are unwed, you are in a precarious position.


    Not again, Theodorained as she stood up and moved around, away from her mother. At least Aunt Irene never tells me to get married.


    That is another thing, Beatrice said, moving the conversation along another avenue. Be careful with Irene. She is angered that Sir William has returned in such high honours. Do not make it worse.


    Why? Theodora asked curiously. What does she have against Sir William?


    He displeased her, long ago, Beatrice said curtly. In return he had to leave Tothmor.


    He seems to have done well enough for himself, Theodora pointed out.


    That is not the point, Beatrice said strictly. Your young favoured, Hugh, is the son of another who displeased Irene. She will never consent to any  arrangement between yourself and the son of Count Esmarch.


    Why does her consent matter? Theodora said with a touch of anger. Am I not the queen?


    You are, Beatrice said in a soothing voice, but you cannot rule alone. You need someone to keep the counts in line, the priests, somebody to help you with the Order and the ounders. You need influential allies at court, she urged her daughter.


    And that has to be Lady Irene? Theodora questioned.


    She has the court seer in her hand, the counts fear her, Beatrice argued. Maybe with the right match you can secure a husband to rece her influence. But until such a time, you need Irene.


    And you do not think Hugh could fulfil such a role? Theodora asked.


    He seems a good boy, Beatrice admitted. But no. He will not strengthen your im on the throne, he will not bring military might or wealth to your cause or any political influence here at court.


    Maybe I need none of that, Theodora said with force in her voice. Really, who could take my ce? Who would dare?


    I do not know, Beatrice conceded, but do not take my words lightly. I understand the pull of choosing somebody you care for personally. I was fortunate myself with your father, she added, and the invoked memory brought a smile to the womans face.


    Have you heard from Father? Theodora asked quietly.


    He is mobilising the South, Beatrice said gently. You will see him here before long.


    I look forward to that, Theodora said, her voice sounding like she was many years younger.


    I as well, dear child, Beatrice said with a hint of a sigh. It is almostst bell. I will leave you to your rest. Tell your eavesdropping handmaiden she best be discreet. Irene is not as forgiving as I am towards gossiping servants. Beatrice nced towards the door behind which the queens handmaiden had her bedroom. Then thedy gave her daughter a goodnight kiss on the cheek and left.


    ~~~~


    After leaving Theodoras chamber, Beatrice walked down the hallways. In the distance, she heard the dissonant tolling of the bells belonging to the temples. Last bell, dering nightfall and that all decent folk should be indoors. One person had only just managed to get through the gates to the inner district and inside the pce itself; now he stumbled down the corridors, approaching Beatrice who came from the other direction.


    Leander, she called out to him, and the youth raised his head.


    Aunt Beatrice, he smiled with a slurred voice before lowering his head again.


    I am d to see that tonight you made it inside the pce gate beforest bell, she chided, though she could not hide a faint smile either.


    I like to change the pace now and then, he replied while standing wavering until one hand shot out and steadied himself against a wall.


    At least you are carefree, she said and gave him a pat on the cheek.


    Did youe from Theodoras room? he asked, raising his eyes to look at his aunt.


    I did. Was there something on your mind?


    I have not seen her. In a while. For some days. How is she?


    His question made another faint smile appear on Beatrices face, and she caressed his hair. Maybe you are not entirely carefree. She is well, Leander. You should get to bed and get well yourself.


    Yes, mydy, Leander said, straightening up as if saluting his superior. It almost made him lose his bnce, but he recovered and continued forward. Beatrice followed him with her eyes as he walked past her, shaking her head and smiling as he disappeared through the doors into his room.


    Leander stumbled inside his chamber and once more had to employ the steadfastness of the wall to keep standing. Normally, his room would have been empty since Leander had never used a valet, and he had fought all attempts to impose one upon him. However, a female figure sat on his bed, waiting for him. She was elegantly dressed in clothes that emphasised her slender figure and with hair arranged in an intricate way.


    Hallo, Mother, Leander said as he managed to send a nce towards her.


    Lady Diane, mistress to thete king and mother of his only child, rose from her seat. You know why I am here, presumably? Why I have been waiting hours for your return? she said sharply.


    Regardless of whether I do, I am sure you will tell me, Leander mumbled.


    Ignoring him, Diane continued. I told you today was important! It was your chance to mark your presence at court.


    What, like a dog marking its territory? Because if so, I have marked my presence in numerous alleys and behind many a tavern, Leander said with a snort of half-stifledughter.


    This is no jest, Diane reproached him. Your father would be sorely disappointed if he could see you.


    Then it is fortunate he cannot, Leander muttered, still leaning against the wall.


    Take care what you say! Diane hissed, walking over to stand in front of her son. His breath made her recoil again, however. Your father had great ns for you, and I will not have you dishonour his memory.


    Father was a great man, or so I am told, Leander said, straightening up as best he could. But that does not mean his son will be. Have you considered Father knew this when he adopted Theodora?


    Nonsense! Diane snorted. That was Irenes doing, that venomous woman. She poisoned your fathers mind, turned him against us.


    Mother, while I adore being embroiled in your feud, which I might add began before I was even born, I really should get some rest, Leander told her.


    Very well. But I tell you this, Leander. When the counts arrive to be received by the queen, you will be present. Or I will do my utmost in stripping you of every coin that allows this leisurely life of yours, Diane warned him, to which he gave a slight, mocking bow as she passed by him.


    As soon as he heard the doors close behind her, Leander straightened up properly. He blinked a few times and walked over to sit on his bed, affected by weariness and intoxication but clearly less so than the impression he had given. He removed his shirt, getting undressed for sleep; he paused, holding his head between his hands instead. It took him a little while to summon the fortitude to continue his preparations and finally go to sleep.


    ~~~~


    Leaving her sons chamber, Diane moved through the corridors until she entered a small room. It was a shrine, one out of six found in this wing. Due to Tothmorsplicated religious state, the pce needed to have an altar dedicated to each of the lesser divines.


    This particr shrine had a statue of a great man, d in bearskin, holding a heavy hammer, and standing by an anvil; he was Hamaring, god of smiths, craftsmen, and associated with the mountains. In front of the altar knelt a figure d in the white robes belonging to the priesthood of Hamaring. As Diane approached and the priest rose, she could see the ck bear upon his chest, which signalled that he was initiated into their order. His hem did not have the pattern, however, of a high priest.


    Where is Brother Bernard? she asked with the same sharp tone that had permeated her conversation with her son.


    The Reverend One was busy, answered the priest. He sent me in his ce. I am Brother Renard.


    Sounds like a poor jest, Diane scoffed, her gaze sliding over the priest. I do not deal withckeys.


    I am the right-hand man to the high priest, Renard assured her. I am intimate with all his ns, including those involving your son.


    At the mention of Leander, Diane jerked her head up to stare at the priest. Has your high priest made a habit of being open-mouthed to everybody?


    No, mdy, Renard assured her in a soothing tone. Only me. No others know.


    You do not look like a priest of Hamaring, Diane said, her eyes once more scrutinising the white-robed man. Are you not all supposed to have forearms like tree trunks?


    Trees take many shapes, Renard shrugged. My master values me for my head, not my strength.


    Is that so, Diane said doubtingly. You can tell your master I do not value surprises. Next time he will meet me personally.


    I shall bear your message, Renard said with a slight bow, gathering his arms in front of him and sliding his hands into their opposite sleeves. But I believe the Reverend One expected to hear more?


    I have not told Leander, Diane said with another sharp look. It was not the right time.


    You would know best, Renard conceded while inclining his head. However, we noted that he was not present today at court when the lord marshal was given audience. The Reverend One is concerned.


    Tell him that Leander is my concern, Diane imprinted upon the priest. You whiterobes handle your part, I will handle mine.


    As you say, Renard replied. My master will eagerly await to hear more.


    He can wait as eagerly as he wishes, Diane said dismissively, turning to leave. Leave Leander to me. The priest bowed again in silent farewell and stood in contemtion, watching the elegantdy exit the room and then shifting his gaze to the statue of Hamaring upon the altar.

 Chapter 22: In Salt and Wine

    Chapter 22: In Salt and Wine


    In Salt and Wine


    Tothmor


    The days passed as the ounder army marched steadily west, ever approaching Tothmor; the city itself was reaching a boiling point in the hot summer with tension palpable on the streets in the lower circles. In the uppermost circle, however, there was still serenity; Theodora walked each morning in her rose gardens where none disturbed her. In case the unknown assant might make another attempt on her life, she was now always apanied. Hugh, who hitherto had been merely the scarcely known son of the disgraced Count Esmarch, was now the personal guard of the queen; he rarely left her side.


    The roses were in full bloom, and their scent permeated the air as Theodora strolled leisurely with Hugh by her side. Although supposed to be her guard, he was not wearing armour of any kind; he only wore a tunic above his doublet. He did have a sword by his side, however, and few would doubt his ability to use it; his father had been renowned as an expert swordsman in his day.


    That is not true, Theodora reproached her conversation partner, though her chastisement was undermined by her smile.


    I swear it, Hugh said solemnly, raising one hand as if taking an oath. Bluebells as far as the eye can see. An entire ocean of blue covering the heath.


    I have never heard of that before, Theodora argued.


    You have now, Hugh pointed out. Have you ever been to Esmarch?


    I have never left Tothmor.


    You should see it, Hugh insisted. It is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. Well, almost, he added with a nce sideways towards the queen, who modestly looked away.


    It does not seem likely I will anytime soon, Theodora said wistfully. With the ounders, all of Esmarch must be overrun. It does bring me grief to think of your home despoiled in this way.


    I am mostly grieved at the thought of their ck boots trampling all the bluebells, Hugh said with a vain attempt at smiling. With war on the march here, there will be plenty of women giving their men bluebells for remembrance, he said, mentioning the Hthian tradition surrounding bluebells. I do not cherish the prospect of leaving myself.


    You will not be leaving, Theodora said firmly. As your queen I forbid it, she added with a little smile.


    I must do as my queenmands, Hugh smiled in return. He nced around until he found a particrly well-shaped rose. With the small knife in his belt, he cut the stem and presented it to Theodora. Since bluebells are not avable, may I offer this instead? More beautiful and thus more fitting, I suppose.


    You realise all these roses belong to me already? Theodora said while her mouth curled upwards in amusement. And in any case, if neither of us is leaving, then the custom of giving bluebells is not at y, is it? Despite her protestations, however, Theodora still took the rose from Hughs fingers and epted it with a small, polite bow.


    I would say no tradition is ever necessary for a man to present a rose to a woman, he said, mirroring her bow as she took the flower from him.


    That may be, she conceded, holding the flower in one hand and taking hold of his arm with the other as they continued their walk. I fear I must cut our time in the gardens short, Theodora continued. I must prepare for the audience today.


    The counts, Hugh nodded in understanding.


    And the march wardens will arrive as well, Theodora added.


    Your father, Hugh said kindly.


    Yes, Theodora smiled at the mention. So you see, I will have to give audience.


    Of course, the young man epted. If it pleases you, I shall be present as well.


    That would please me, Theodora said with another smile directed at herpanion.


    Unless it would be considered a breach of etiquette. I know my father has not received summons, Hugh said in an almost neutral voice.


    I was not aware, Theodora said hastily. I did not realise my aunt, she stammered.


    I understand, Hugh told her. My father is disliked by many of influence at court.


    But not by me, Theodora was quick to point out. I have no quarrel with him, or with any of your house.


    That is good to hear, Hugh smiled at her. I meant not to cause ill feelings by mentioning it. But I thought you should know that some act in your name yet not towards your intentions.


    That is not polite conversation, Theodora said in warning before her voice softened. Though I understand of what you speak.


    Do not forget that you are queen, Your Majesty, Hugh urged her. Your will is ourmand.


    Let us return inside, was Theodoras only reply, and they turned along the path to leave the gardens and enter the pce building.


    ~~~~


    The counts of Hthiod were scheduled to appear before their queen at noon; there were still some hours until that bell rang when William of Tothmor walked through the gate between the first and second district. As first lieutenant to the lord marshal, he had been given privileged amodations inside the pce circle, but now he walked through the nobles quarter of the city. None seemed to recognise his face even if his name was known to all; people saw only one knight out of the several hundred that had arrived. Still, that was sufficient to clear a path before him.


    The house that attracted his steps showed little sign of being maintained. The golden spurs on Williams boots had nged against the pavement streets; the sound died away as he moved past the gates on loose hinges and his spurs struck grass on an overgrown path through the garden. Reaching the door, William looked up to see the faded emblem of Esmarch hung above, depicting a horse riding across the ins. The knight looked for a bell string to announce his presence but found none. Lacking other options, he knocked on the front door. Only then did he realise it was already ajar.


    Right hand on his sword hilt, William entered. Inside, he found no signs of violence or forced entry, however, and he was met by no one. Everything was quiet with ayer of dirt upon the floors, though boot prints could be spotted here and there.


    Is anyone present? William called out. My lord Hubert? he said loudly, speaking the name of the count of Esmarch. Advancing deeper into the practically derelict house, William nced in every direction but saw nothing to put an end to his spections.


    I know that voice, spoke a man from the upper floor; at the top of a staircase stood Hubert, count of Esmarch, surrounded by nothing but dust.


    Lord Hubert, William bowed his head as the nobleman descended the stairs.


    Sir William, Hubert returned the greeting as he finally reached the ground floor. He ced both hands on the knights shoulders and stared into his face. Is it truly you? After so many years?


    It is I, good master, William smiled. I remain your most respectful student, regardless of how many years it has been.


    And the most capable one, Hubert said with a smile between the wrinkles of his face. I remember the first time you bested me. I have never been prouder before or after that moment.


    You are too kind, William said, inclining his head. I arrived in the city a few days ago and desired to visit my old teacher. The count looked around as if seeing for the first time the dereliction of his own house and its unsuitable state for receiving visitors. Perhaps, William continued cautiously, you would join me in walking the streets? I have been indoors quite often recently.


    As you wish, Hubert granted. Once outside on the cobbled streets, the count seemed to breathe freer. You have arrived with the Order, I take it? Hubert said to hispanion as they began walking through the second district.


    I did, along with all our knights, William nodded. The infantry should meet us soon along with the levies of Hthiod, he exined.


    But not I, Hubert said almost wistfully. I have not been summoned to court.


    I did not know, the knight said apologetically.


    I did not expect you to, the count merely replied.


    They walked in silence for a little while before William spoke again. May I enquire what happened? When I left Tothmor, there was no indication of your removal from court.


    It was only a matter of time, the aged man said with his voice growing thin. The king died by my side.


    But who leads the Kings des? asked William. Who could have taken your ce?


    None do, Hubert shrugged. Thedy Irene disbanded ourpany. William stopped in stunned silence before he quickly stepped forward to catch up with hispanion. Tell me of Middanhal, Hubert changed the subject. Have you been able to prove your prowess to them?


    I have, William said with a little smile. I won the solstice games not one month ago.


    You used your skill for sport? Hubert asked brusquely.


    A singr urrence, I assure you, William told his old master.


    And you won, you say? You beat them? Hubert continued asking.


    All of them, my lord, the knight dered.


    Very well then, Hubert simply answered, though a faint smile didtch onto his face.


    They had walked through most of the eastern half of the second district and now drew close to the gates leading to the adjacent circles. I must return to the pce, William said, ncing north towards the first district. The counts will be given audience very soon.


    Of course, Hubert mumbled, of course. Attend to your duties. I would ask the gods to preserve you in theing battle, but I believe I taught you well enough that such is unnecessary.


    Better pray nheless, just in case, William replied, inclining his head to his old master before he turned right and walked through the gates towards the pce.


    ~~~~


    The counts of Hthiod had been arriving in thest few days at their own pace, but now they were all to present themselves formally in answer to the queens summons. Some had already been present at court to wield their influence, primarily the counts of Lykia and of Larisa. Now the rest appeared to be given audience.


    As when she had received the lord marshal, Theodora sat upon her throne surrounded by her advisors. Her aunt and her mother, Irene and Beatrice, were by her right side with Irene standing so close that she had one hand resting on Theodoras shoulder; the court seer in his ck robe was on her left side along with Hugh, who was dressed in new garments and a sword by his side. Standing a little distance away stood the lord marshal, his first lieutenant Sir William, and the marshal of Hthiod as the representatives of the Order.


    One by one, the lords of Hthiod entered the hall and walked across it to stand before the throne while a herald announced their names. They knelt before Theodora, reaffirmed their loyalty, and dered that they had done their duty and brought their full levies with them. To each of them, Theodora would nod and thank them for their fealty; then they would stand aside, and the next count would enter. This ended with Count Argolis and finally Count Leukas until only the two march wardens of Hthiod remained.


    The march warden of the East appeared first. Like the others, he knelt and repeated his allegiance before he was dismissed to stand aside. Afterwards came the march warden of the South. He strode tall and with force in his steps through the audience room until he knelt before the queen. Your Majesty, he spoke, your warden of the southern march appears before you, loyal as ever. With a smile on his lips, he raised his dark eyes to meet Theodoras, whose own eyes were of the same hue.


    Thank you, Father  Lord Stephen, she corrected herself as Irene gave her shoulder a light squeeze. Stephen rose, gave a slight bow again, and stepped aside. Now, nearly every nobleman of Hthiod was gathered in the audience room and they all turned to look at Theodora as she spoke. You have alle answering the call, she began to speak. The realm is grateful to you for it. An enemy threatens us all, but thebined might of the men of the heath and the Order will prevail, she concluded and thus paved the way for the lord marshal to continue as he stepped forward.


    An army marches towards this city, Reynold said. While it was not surprising to hear that Tothmor was the target, the assertion of such dire tidings still sent ripples of whispers through the crowd. They are an old enemy which we have not seen in such numbers for five hundred years. A genuine threat to the survival of the realms, he continued with the faintest hint of delight in his voice. To those who are fearful I will say this. The Order has never lost a war since it was founded with the sacred duty of protecting the realms of Adalmearc. Five hundred years ago, our forefathers assembled on these very ins tobat the same enemy we face now, the lord marshal told the audience, to which many nodded and mumbled.


    Should any not remember what happened, allow me to remind you, Reynold continued. When the forces of the Order and the Mearcian realms met the ounders upon the moors of Hthiod, the enemy was annihted. They turned their ck boots and fled, in vain. Scarcely any of them were permitted to escape and return beyond the Langstan. Those that did could bring warning of our terrible wrath and the penalty paid for incurring it, the lord marshal continued while letting his eyes sweep across the room, pausing his speech briefly to allow his words to make an impression.


    You have brought the soldiers of Hthiod to this city. Soon, the remaining Order forces will join us and we will march out. We will stop this incursion and crush those who dare to threaten us, the lord marshal vowed, and he was rewarded by outbursts hailing his resolve.


    The gods are for us, eximed the count Argolis, to which many uttered their agreement, in particr the court seer standing by the throne and the high priests and priestesses scattered in the crowd of courtiers.


    In Rihimils name, said Brother Dominic, still standing by Irenes side. She in turn gave Theodoras shoulder another squeeze, and the young queen rose.


    We ce the safety of our realm in your hands and all our subjects at your disposal, Sir Reynold, she said to the lord marshal, who gave a slight bow. The queen and her entourage left the room, and momentster, the lord marshal strode out with a satisfied expression on his face. He was followed by William, whose own countenance was nk, and the marshal of Hthiod, whose gruff face was difficult to scrutinise. Once they were gone, the rest of the crowd dissolved into small groups and began discussing the event among themselves.


    You need not seem so displeased at being here, Diane muttered to her son. They had been standing as close to the throne as it was possible for them to be positioned while still being beyond Irenes immediate vicinity.


    That is not the source of my displeasure, Leander replied. I was merely contemting the lord marshals little speech. I hesitate at the thought that our defence rests with this man, who seems to rely on stories five hundred years old for his strategy.


    He was merely giving the counts the reassurance they always crave, Diane scoffed. You would understand this better if you were riding out.


    s that I have not been summoned for the defence of the realm, Leander said with a sardonic smile. I wonder how I will live with the dissatisfaction of not being impaled by an ounders spear.


    Do not use that tone, Diane said sternly. Your father was brave beyond measure. It is an insult to the kings memory that his son is not being sent to war. You should be leading this army if all were right.


    Mother, we both know I am as deficient in holding a sword as I would bemanding soldiers, Leander dismissed her. Father may have been brave, but he also led his des to a fight where he was woefully outnumbered. He died for his bravery, which is an act I do not intend to replicate.


    Until now, Dianes eyes had been looking everywhere, exchanging nces and smiles with the other members of court. However, upon hearing her sons words, her head shot around to let her gaze impale him. Never speak ill of your father, she hissed between her teeth. Especially not where others will hear. Leave, she added, repeating herself when he stood bewildered a moment. Go, leave. Retire to your chambers. Leander bowed slightly, hesitantly, and walked out.


    ~~~~


    With not only the noblemen but also their conscripts having reached Tothmor, the city streets were close to choking with people. Most of the soldiers that had arrived from the counties were camped outside the gates, but they entered the city in search of drink, entertainment, women, or all three. With one hand on his staff and the other holding on to his broad-brimmed hat, Godfrey made his way through the fifth district. Being the lowest circle and containing numerous taverns and inns, it had attracted most of the neers. Godfrey had good need of his staff to move through the throng of people, many of whom were rowdy long before the first evening bell had rung. He was headed in the direction of Guys establishment when he passed near the old madman; the beggar whose home was a barrel and whom Godfrey had met upon his arrival to Tothmor.


    The voice of his ranting reached Godfrey, which in itself was not unusual; anybody passing this way would be within earshot of the self-styled prophet. However, something was different on this day; numerous people stood still, listening intently to his words. With some difficulty, Godfrey pushed forward so that he might better hear what was spoken.


    The dragons are dead! Their gods could not protect them. Do you believe they will protect you? he asked with a fiery voice. All our lives we were told the dragonborn were chosen, were destined to rule! Who chose them? Who gave them this destiny?


    What is this, Godfrey asked of the person standing next to him.


    We have been deceived! the madman continued. The gods care not, or they have abandoned the realms! Why do you pay homage to those who have turned their backs on you?


    News from Middanhal, said the person questioned by Godfrey. They say the prince Sigmund is dead, killed in an ambush. They say there will be no more high kings.


    Turn from them! shouted the aged preacher. Abandon those false gods and turn your gaze east! With the rising of the sun shalle your salvation! The god sleeping in the mountain stirs! Godfrey narrowed his eyes with an expression of suspicion or displeasure before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.


    ~~~~


    An alley in the third districty wedged between the houses of two merchants. They were rivals and had spent a lot of gold on making their homes asvish as they could afford, which included walls around their premises. This made the alley very dark and thus ideal for people to meet without being seen. A man stood waiting, ncing around. He was wearing a dark cloak above yellow robes with the ck bull of Egnil upon his chest. A shape emerged from the shadows, wearing a simple ck robe that made him nearly impossible to spot.


    You wished to meet? asked the ck-robed acolyte. It was Nikodemos, who had previously divulged information to the priests of Egnil when Godfrey had arrived in Tothmor.


    Hels deep! eximed the yellow-robed priest, practically jumping where he stood. You startled me, he mumbled and pulled the cloak and hood closer around him, concealing the yellow colour beneath and making himself near invisible.


    It was you who desired we meet here rather than at your temple, the ckrobe argued.


    Yes, yes, the geolrobe dismissed him. So, what can you tell us? Any news?


    My master has done little, said the acolyte. He meets with thedy Irene, but he has given nomands. I think he is waiting to see what unfolds.


    He can wait until Hel swallows him, scoffed the priest of Egnil. He dug out a small purse and threw it to the ck-robed acolyte. Your payment. Nikodemos caught it and gave a slight nod before he disappeared. The man in yellow robe watched him leave with a disdainful expression; pulling the hood of his cloak tighter around his face, he left as well.


    While the priest of Egnil returned to his temple, the acolyte left the third district. He passed through the second and reached the first. The guards halted him at the gate, but he showed documents wearing the seal of the court seer, and so they let him pass. Entering the pce, he walked through corridors until he reached the court seers chambers. After knocking, he was granted admittance. Brother Dominic, Nikodemos greeted and bowed before the court seer, who was getting dressed.


    How was your meeting? Dominic asked while putting on his own ck robe; unlike the acolytes, it had the silver dragon of their order upon its chest.


    Same as ever, Reverend One, came the answer. They still believe you are in the dark.


    Did you learn anything in turn? asked the high priest, cing his ne with itsrge pendant around his neck.


    They have moved our meetings from their temple to an alley nearby, so I was unable to linger and notice anything, the acolyte said apologetically.


    Do they suspect your allegiance? said Dominic sharply, turning his eyes quickly to look at his servant.


    I dont think so, Reverend One. The geolrobes are merely being cautious.


    I suppose they have cause to be. But you must increase your efforts. I am all but convinced Count Lykia is in allegiance with them. You must find evidence of this, the court seer urged.


    I shall do my best, but that may take days or weeks, said Nikodemos.


    That is no matter. We have eyes on their pawn. I doubt they will dare to act while war is on the horizon and the Order army is so near. As long as you need, Dominic said and gave a slight nod to dismiss him. You may return to the temple.


    Yes, Reverend One, the acolyte said and bowed.


    While the younger priest returned to the city, Dominic went to the grand hall in the pce. It was where the court took their meals; with the first evening bell ringing, food was being served. The courtiers of various ranks were already present, and the court seer hurried over to stand by his seat, just in time. Moments after, the queen entered, nked by her mother and her aunt Irene while Hugh walked a few steps behind. With the queen having arrived, everybody might sit down and the meal could begin.


    It had notsted long before another figure burst through the entrance. It was Leander. Most turned their heads in his direction, but once they saw who it was, they lost interest. With a wry smile, Leander moved over to take a seat between Beatrice and Diane. Mother, Aunt, he greeted them, pulling his cup close to him.


    Not on time, but at least you are here, Diane chastised him. Ignoring his mother, Leander filled his cup with wine.


    Make sure you eat something as well, Beatrice interjected.


    I will, Leander said, shooting his aunt a quick smile before he filled his te with the meats and green in front of him. Where is Uncle Stephen? he asked of Beatrice, ncing around at the table.


    Your uncle is with the marshals, making ns, Beatrice replied.


    He is exemr in his duties, Diane said, to which Beatrice smiled and inclined her head.


    I would have thought he would be by Theodoras side, Leander said casually as he sipped from his cup, considering how long it has been since she has seen her father.


    There will be time for that, Beatrice said in a nearly neutral voice.


    ncing around the hall, Leander saw numerous faces that were new. The counts and their families that had arrived in Tothmor were mostly those too poor to have their own manor in the city; hence, they stayed at court and filled the ces around the tables as well as the air with conversation. Primarily the talk centred on the ounders; the women were fanning themselves in coquettish fear of what was toe, and the men were imposingly resting their hands on sword hilts in disys of courtly courage.


    They say there are three ounders for every one of ours, whispered onedy, managing to do it so loudly that everybody could hear.


    That is perfect, yelled a lord, making no attempts at being subtle. One heathman is worth four ounders, so we still outnumber them! he finished, brandishing the meat and bone of a roast like a weapon to entuate his im.


    But they are so barbaric, said another woman. I hear tales of how theye in the night to kill and plunder everything in sight, and nobody hears a sound! The only trace they leave is a ck boot print, she nodded sagely.


    There will be less of them left when we are done, boasted somebody else. We shall ride out as our ancestors did and trample them beneath our feet! This was met by a chorus of approval and praise.


    Sounds like we do not even need the Order, Leandermented casually before raising his cup for a servant to fill.


    Did you have something to remark upon, Leander? said Irene, sitting on the opposite side of Theodora; her voice was treacherously innocent as she leaned forward to look upon the bastard son of her husband.


    I was merely giving quiet praise to the good knights of the Order who so speedily came to our aid. In fact, a toast to Sir William, native of this city and most renowned of knights! Leander called out, raising his cup high in the air. The queen followed his toast by raising her own goblet, and then none others could refuse; even Irene had to follow suit, although she barely touched her cup with her lips. With a self-satisfied smile, Leander ced his chalice on the table and returned his attention to his meal. By his side, Diane seemed pleased at the exchange of words between her son and her old rival.


    Was Sir William not also trained by one of this city? The Count of Esmarch, if I recall, said Theodora. Behind her, it was now Hughs turn to smile at the mention of his father, while Irenes facial expression grew further strained. The queen did not notice this, however, and instead looked at her courtiers who were hesitant to answer.


    You are correct, Your Majesty, Diane said finally with a smile towards the queen. The Count of Esmarch was the finest swordsman in his day and trained many of our best, my son included.


    And also Lord Hugh, I would imagine, Theodora replied, turning to look at her protector behind her.


    Indeed, we are fortunate to be blessed with such skilled warriors, Irene said, and her smile was close to appearing sincere. Will Lord Hugh be riding out into battle along with the knights and counts of Hthiod? she asked in a pleasant voice.


    If duty called me so, I would, Hugh began his reply. However, my queen hasmanded I remain here, and so I must oblige, he finished smoothly, exchanging smiles with Theodora.


    And you, Leander? Will you show us what the fabled tutge of Count Esmarch can yield on the battlefield? Irene continued, changing targets.


    Leander froze with his cup pressed against his lips, caught unprepared by suddenly being dragged back into the conversation. I would, he said slowly at first, but my gift for avoiding disappointment hasmanded that I remain here, and so I must oblige. He smiled slyly and elicited a fewughs from the courtiers, not including his mother.


    What a sharp wit, Irene mused. Would that your sword were as sharp.


    If tongues were swords, Lady Irene, you would have the ounder army in flight by your mere presence, Leander answered, motioning for his cup to be filled again. This remark did not spark any mirth.


    If men will not defend this realm, perhaps the women must, Irene countered, her voice sharper. Not such a shocking thought, considering we are ruled by a queen. Or would you disagree in this reasoning?


    The court grew hushed and exchanged whispers, picking up on Irenes pointed question. Diane ced a hand on Leanders arm to restrain him, but he gave no indication of noticing it. There were many counts and noblemen present this evening who did not live at court. By their looks it seemed as if they only now remembered that as the kings son, Leander had been the male heir to Everard, and he had been disced in favour of a female heir, Everards niece by his sister, making the kinship matrilineal and thus further weakening Theodoras im.


    I never thought of it in such a way, Leander answered at length. When I look upon the queen, I simply see my cousin. My kin, my blood. With those words, he shot a smile at Irene who was without husband, without children, without family.


    For a moment, the court was silent. All eyes were on Irene or Leander; the only exception was a servant who entered the hall and quickly crossed it to whisper into the court seers ears. He in turn immediately passed the message on to Irene, and her attention towards Leander vanished. How certain is this? she said quietly to Dominic. The priest shrugged.


    What is it? Aunt Irene? asked Theodora.


    Your Majesty, Irene said, turning to look at the queen. News in the city is that your cousin, the prince Sigmund, is in. The House of Adal is gone.


    ~~~~


    mour erupted upon hearing such news. Those most clear-sighted wondered what this meant for Adalrik and its ability to support Hthiod against the ounders; most people, however, simply expressed their dread that any would dare to kill their sovereign lord. With such sombre tidings, the meal was soon ended, and the court was made to disperse to continue their heated debates elsewhere. The evening hade and all but gone when Irene was walking down the hallways of the pce, and she saw a man approaching her from the other direction. Lord Stephen, she greeted the march warden of the South with an insincere smile.


    Lady Irene, he said with a clenched jaw.


    Have you finished your discussion with the marshals? she asked with an air of innocence.


    For now, he said curtly. We are still awaiting further news of the enemy. Once the Order forces from Adalrik arrive, we will ride out.


    All our prayers shall go with you, Irene said affably.


    I should like to see my daughter, though, so if you would excuse me, Stephen continued and made to move past Irene towards the royal bedchambers.


    My dear Lord Stephen, thest bell has rung. The queen has gone to sleep already.


    Stephen narrowed his eyes. I see. I will have other opportunities to speak with her.


    Will you? As one of the realms premiermanders, I would have thought this invasion would keep you frightfully busy.


    It is only temporarily, Stephen said dismissively. Once the army has been assembled, we will annihte the ounders and I shall return to Tothmor.


    You sound certain. You do not think the news from Adalrik will at all be a hindrance? Irene suggested.


    What, news of the prince? Stephen said, raising his eyebrows. I do not see how that will affect us here.


    Is that so, Irene pondered. But of course, once this war has ended, you will have to return to your duties as march warden. In the South, she said pointedly.


    I will not let that happen again, Stephen replied, clenching his jaw once more. I will not let you pack me away to some corner of the realm.


    You were given a prestigious and important post, Irene argued. Many would have been honoured if the queen had chosen them.


    My daughter, you mean, Stephen said scowling. My daughter, whom I let you use as a pawn before you sent me hundreds of miles away.


    A pawn? Your daughter became queen, I remind you, Irene said icily, and her tone of voice was reflected in the gaze she sent him.


    Under your influence, Stephen added, his own voice growing cold as well. But it will notst. I have finally returned to Tothmor, and I will not let history repeat itself.


    For a moment they stood, gazes locked in a contest of wills. With a snap, Irene broke away and merely smiled. Goodnight, Lord Stephen.


    Leaving him behind, Irene made for her own chambers. Luxurious, they were almost equal to the queens. They also contained a visitor. Why are you here at thiste hour? Irene asked as she noticed the court seers presence with a nce before she began to remove her jewellery and put it in her lockbox.


    I have another name, answered the ck-robed priest. Brother Gregory is involved.


    So him and the high priest, Irene said thoughtfully. Who among the counts? Has any been implicated?


    We have found no evidence, Dominic said, raising his hands.


    I am almost certain of Lykia, but he is a most cautious man, Irene acknowledged. He barely speaks up at court, merely lies like a viper in the shadows.


    Should we have the geolrobes arrested? They might reveal names to lessen their punishment.


    Irene sat in front of her vanity mirror, halting her movements for a moment. No, I doubt the counts would be so careless. Probably not even the high priest knows with certainty who is involved. Wait, be patient, let your spies do their work, she informed him as she removed her earrings.


    As you say, the court seer bowed.


    We will wait and see once the army departs, Irene contemted. Who of the counts excuse themselves to remain behind. That might prove telling.


    As you say, Dominic repeated; with a final bow, he left the chambers belonging to Hthiods mistress.


    ~~~~


    Although thest bell of the day had been rung, certain parts of Tothmor were still awake. It was predominantly in the lowest circle that torches and candles were still burning and people were carousing. Troy, lute slung on his back, was making rounds of the taverns and public houses of the fifth district. For a moment, he was distracted by the ravings of a preacher; the man, d in rags and dirt, stepped forward and grabbed Troy by the shoulder. Repent! he snarled into Troys face, unleashing his bad breath onto the bard. Do you not know that he has awakened? Soon you will be judged! the mad prophet yelled.


    Can it wait until tomorrow? Busy night tonight, Troy excused himself, slipping free of the madmans grasp. He hurried away, only ncing back once while shaking his head. As he found and entered yet another tavern, the sounds of loud voices and wooden tankards shing together met him. He shielded his eyes momentarily as he came from the dark into the lit interior until his eyes adjusted.


    I dont care. Whats the dragonborn to me or any other in Hthiod? said one surly-looking man as Troy passed by and caught snippets of conversation. By the smell of him, he was a tanner of trade.


    Were about to fight for our lives against the ckboot bastards, someone mentioned. Bloody fine time these drakonians picked to start a fight of their own.


    It was them that built the wall, argued a third patron, raising his mug of ale each time he made a point. They founded the Order. It was Sigvard who defeated the ounders. The dragonborn were chosen by the gods to lead us.


    Hold on, spoke yet another man with the haggard look of a former salt miner, I thought Sigvard ended the Great War.


    If the gods chose them, they obviously changed their minds.


    The gods, somebody else spat. All these priests in this city, does that help us? Oundersing in the thousands while they kill the heir to the realms.


    Maybe the gods cant help us.


    Maybe we are asking the wrong gods.


    The atmosphere was thick with smoke and soot from the torches, and Troy had to move deep through the rooms before he saw his quarry. Spotting his golden hair, Troy moved over to a highly inebriated Leander. Troy! Leander eximed, spotting the bards red cap. You are just in time. I was just telling these fine folk about you.


    Nothing good, I imagine, Troy muttered. You are in worse condition than usual, he added once he had time to inspect Leander.


    I was just saying if only my good friend Troy was here. Wait, Troy. Why are you here? Leander asked in sudden confusion.


    You asked me yesterday, Troy exined patiently. You wanted me toe with you into town once supper at court was over. But when I came to the pce you were gone, and Ive been looking all over the lower circle for you.


    Did I? Leander said questioningly. Sounds like me. Oh yes, supper was cut short. Bad news, which is why we are celebrating, he said, winking at the bard as if sharing a secret.


    Are you celebrating bad news? Troy said bewildered.


    No, not celebrating, the other word. Grieving, Leander borated. Sorry, they both involve wine, so I got confused.


    Sounds like you have had enough. How about we leave, the bard suggested.


    No, no! Leander protested. As said, you are just in time. Do you not see? Your song, Troy, your song!


    My song? Troy repeated bewildered.


    Yes, the only song you know to y! The dragon is dead, Troy, the little prince, and you know the song about dead dragons.


    Are you talking about The Sorrow of Glen Hollow? The song you always berate me for singing, Troy said irritated.


    That is the one! Do you not see, Troy, this is the only time it will make sense for you to sing it. There will be no more dragons, you will have to sing it now! Leander insisted.


    I really think we should get you out of here instead, Troy tried to object, but now people surrounding them became involved.


    Song! Song! Song! they chanted until Troy felt either sufficiently threatened or ttered to take his lute into his hands.


    Cheers rose up as Troy walked out into open space between the tables and began plucking the strings. He did this for a few moments while people shushed each other. Then he began singing the first verse.


    The dragonborn of great renown


    Upon his head, he wore a crown


    A sword of steel, his armour gold


    The Dragonheart who was of old.


    As he reached the chorus, the patrons of the tavern joined in until it seemed as if their voices would lift the roof off its shingles.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow!


    Troy continued singing all the verses and leading the audience on the chorus until the song was done. Many cheered and toasted, some apuded, a few shed tears. Troy took a bow, slinging his lute over his back once more, and he was immediately osted by inebriated patrons. They praised his song with drunken voices and tried to pressure him into singing another. Ducking low to escape their arms around his shoulders, the bard managed to return to Leander. Time we leave, he said to the youth, who was too intoxicated to argue further.


    Troy managed to get them outside and supported his friend as Leander staggered onwards through the streets of lower Tothmor. I had no idea you felt so strongly about the demise of the dragonborn, Troy mumbled as he struggled to keep the other walking.


    Truth be told, it was a little bit of an excuse. Kept me in good drinkingpany, Leander said with a wide smile and a hup. I am tired, you see.


    No wonder, Troy remarked dryly.


    No, no, tired. Tired of the court. Tired of my mother, of Irene, of the court seer, all those peacocks about to get their feathers cut by the ounders.


    I am sure it feels worse than it is, Troy assured him. Once you wake up with a clear head or rather a hurting head, youll see it differently.


    No, Leander insisted. I hate them, all of them.


    That is not true, Troy said calmly as they continued their walk through the alleys.


    No, Aunt Beatrice is nice. I like her.


    See? There we go, Troy replied, manoeuvring Leander around obstacles in their path.


    Then there is Theodora, Leander mumbled.


    Careful now, Troy said as they stepped over broken tiles that had fallen down from a roof. Do not speak ill of the queen, the bard added in a low voice.


    She is my cousin, Leander continued.


    That will not necessarily save you if the wrong people hear you say the wrong thing about her, Troy cautioned him, biting his lip.


    I used to care about her so much, Leander slurred. So much.


    Oh, Troy said, breathing a tad easier.


    I remember when she was born. Well, not that very moment, what a gross thought, Troy, really, Leander reproached him. But since she was small. We yed in the rose gardens.


    How nice, Troy said absent-mindedly, ncing at their path ahead between barrels intended for catching rainwater.


    She was so sweet. The only person who did not mind who I was, Leander confided in his friend, still speaking in his slurring manner. And then that infernal a hup swallowed Leanders words before he continued, made her queen.


    Straying into things we should not say out loud, Troy said in a high-pitched voice.


    And told her I was danger to her. Me. Me, Troy! Me! Like I ever would steal her crown. Me, who only care about her. She cost me my only friend, Leander blurted out and fell t on his back.


    I will pretend not to be hurt by that statement as I am dragging your drunk carcass through the streets past midnight, Troy responded, bending down to help Leander stand up.


    Sorry. Sorry, sorry. My only friend at court, I mean. My family. That I thought genuinely cared about me. Now she looks at me like her enemy. All because of what they whispered in her ear, poisoned her against me.


    Im sorry for that, Troy said caringly. Come, we are almost there.


    Where are you taking me? This is not my room, Leander said, suddenly aware of their surroundings and that they were in the fifth district still. They passed by a certain barrel from which loud snores emitted.


    All the city gates are closed, Troy reminded him. I am not hauling you up the mountain through all five circles anyway. I know the tavern owner here, he lets me sleep out in the back, the bard exined.


    An embrace is all I intend, Leander said in a voice that was halfway between being earnest and slurred.


    Im ttered, but how about you get some sleep first, Troy answered as they entered the backyard of Guys tavern. There was a lean-to where a cow was sleeping, surrounded by hay.


    No, her, Leander said, closing his eyes while Troy managed to lower his friend down to rest upon the hay. I do not want to harm her. Just embrace her. She has these pretty curls, you ever notice?


    I cant say I have, Troy admitted. Now rest, Leander. It was not a necessarymand to give; already Leander had surrendered to the realm of sleep. With a faint sigh, Troy sat down next to him, made himselffortable in the hay, and closed his own eyes.


    ~~~~


    A few days passed after the arrival of the counts and the massing of Hthiods armies near Tothmor. With final preparations made, they only awaited the arrival of the remaining Order forces from Adalrik. When the first small group of soldiers arrived from Lake Myr, the marshals and Sir William were reluctant to believe them. But as more bands arrived, confirming the story, rumours began to spread throughout the city.


    In the end, the news could not be contained nor denied. Although in shock, themanders of the Order and the noblemen of Hthiod had to ept what they were told. Northern Adalrik had risen in rebellion and seized Middanhal while the Order army at Lake Myr had been defeated, forced to flee and disperse; the promised reinforcements would not arrive. The knights of the vanguard and the levies of the Hthian counts were all the troops they would have at their disposal while the ounder army drew ever nearer to Tothmor.

 Chapter 23: City of Lies

    Chapter 23: City of Lies


    City of Lies


    Tothmor


    The lord marshal and Sir William had been quartered in the Order tower inside the first district of Tothmor. Since arriving, they had spent their days with Marshal Leonard, preparing the campaign and drawing up battle ns; asionally they had included the local nobles such as Stephen, Theodoras father. However, for this meeting the threemanders of the Order alone were present.


    I do not believe this, the lord marshal mumbled. They were inside the office belonging to Leonard, although his chair had been taken by Reynold. This left Leonard and William standing up, thetter by the window, the former by the desk. On the table was a map of the region with various carved pieces resembling army units. Numerous stood by Lake Myr, representative of soldiers that would never arrive.


    Regardless of your beliefs, we cannot deny it any longer, the aged Leonard growled. We are not getting more soldiers than we have.


    But Adalrik, Reynoldined. Middanhal seized by rebels! How could this happen? How could Theobald let this happen?


    What does it matter, Leonard said through gritted teeth. We still have an invasion to deal with. We need to march our army to battle, or else it will be ckboots standing outside our gates!


    We have to go back, William said quietly, and the other two men did not hear him at first. We have to lead the army to Adalrik, William repeated, turning from the window to look at the two marshals.


    Are you mad? Leonard asked incredulously, staring at the knight. Abandon Tothmor to its fate?


    We leave a garrison. There are no trees for many miles. If the ounders want to besiege the city, they must bring equipment with them from beyond the wall which will slow their progress.


    With an army of that size any dy will not matter, they will still be able to storm the city! Leonard argued. We are talking a few months at most before the city falls.


    Probably, William conceded.


    We will not be able to reach Adalrik, end the rebellion, and return here to relieve the siege in that time, Leonard continued his objection. You are dooming the city, abandoning all of Hthiod to the ounders!


    Yes, William epted.


    Yes? Leonard repeated in disbelief. You are prepared to ept this?


    Hthiod is a border, William exined. If lost, it can be retaken. Adalrik is the heart of these realms, the heart of the Order. If it descends into chaos, the rest of the realms will follow.


    You were born in this city! Leonard all but shouted. And you are ready to abandon it so easily! I do not believe what I am hearing, he shook his head.


    I am merely prepared to do my duty, William answered sharply, regardless of personal inclinations. The longer that Adalrik is gued by civil war, the more it will be drained of strength. We will end up fighting the ounders without support, without reserves or reinforcements from the other realms. Only the lord marshal, William continued, now gesturing at Reynold, has the authority to make the other realms and the marshals step in. We must assume Sir Roderic and any Order forces in Adalrik are lost. We must return and restore order.


    And when you tell the army assembled outside the city to march west, Leonard countered, when you tell the Hthian counts and all these heathmen to forsake their homes to the barbarians, how will they react? Do you honestly believe a single soldier will follow you?


    They will obey or be hanged for treason, William said simply, which only made Leonard scoff.


    You cannot hang the whole army. Especially when it is the only army we have, Leonard insisted. They have assembled here to defend Tothmor, to defeat the ounders! Ordering them to do anything else while the threat is so imminent is ludicrous!


    William was silent for a moment before he spoke. Korndale can relieve Tothmor. Have King Adrd gather his levies along with any Order troops and march here. Keep the ounders in check and prevent them from storming the city.


    What sense is that? Leonard said, raising his hands in frustration. We are already here! Have Korndale march north and fight the rebels in Adalrik! Why in Hels name make us march west only so that Korndale can march east and take our ce?


    Because Korndale cannot resolve the situation in Adalrik, William bit back. King Adrds army is scarcely stronger than what the jarls can muster. He may lose to them in an open battle. And should he manage to win and wrest control of Adalrik from the jarls, our position is no better.


    Why on earth not?


    Because Korndale is dragonborn on his mothers side. He can very easily be tempted to seize the crown and high kingship for himself, just as the rebels are attempting to do now. It is the foremost duty of the Order to safeguard the union of the realms, William said pointedly. We cannot allow rebels, jarls, or kings to decide these matters through brute force. We must show the Order has strength to keep all of them in line, and let it be decided byw.


    Before their argument could escte further, Reynold stepped in. He rose from his seat, and the movement made the other men look at him. Gazing down at the map, the lord marshal finally spoke. Sir Leonard, I want you to have your secretary write to the marshal of Korndale. He is to order King Adrd to raise his forces and march them to Tothmor.


    But my lord, Leonard began to protest, Tothmor may very well have fallen before Korndale can arrive. And how do we even know that Korndale wille to our aid?


    His objections were silenced by a raised hand from the lord marshal. Korndale wille, or I will lead the Order to Plenmont myself and throw him in chains for treason, Reynold said sharply. He continued with a less tense voice. We will not abandon the city. We will march east and engage the ounders in battle. With a solid victory, they will be driven back, forced to dy their advance. This gives Korndale time to arrive, take over our position, and keep them checked. Then we may return west and crush the rebellion in Adalrik.


    Neither the marshal Leonard nor the knight William seemed satisfied, but nor could they challenge the lord marshals decision. With a final nce towards the map lying on the desk, Reynold reached over and toppled the pieces at Lake Myr.


    ~~~~


    With the decision made, no further time was wasted. The very same day, Reynold gave the order to depart. The army camped beyond the walls was told to break up and prepare for march; the knights and their attendants staying inside the city gathered their horses and began their procession out of the city, followed by the noblemen. As when they had arrived, people lined up to watch the departure, many with bluebells that they gave to their rtives among the soldiers marching out. The various counts received one from their wives, daughters, or sons too young to ride with them; exceptions were the counts Lykia and Larisa, who had found reasons to remain in the city. Riding in front, William pulled out a flower from where he had hid it in his bracer; it was pressed t and dry but still distinctly blue in colour. ncing at it, the knight tucked the flower away again.


    Leander and Troy had found a spot on top of one of the walls to have a good view, having chosen the wall between the first and the second district. On their left hand, they had the court watching the departure, whereas on their right hand was the rest of the city down the mountainside. Shouldnt you be standing down there? Troy asked, nodding towards the rest of the court.


    Leanders mother was there with her handmaiden and friends; a little further away, standing by the pce entrance, was Theodora. As customary, she was surrounded by her closest rtives and advisors, including Hugh. They watched as the queen gave a bluebell to her father, who epted it and ced it in his belt; then the march warden rode past them, out of the gate, and down towards the lower circles.


    My mother is somewhat displeased I am not one of those riding out, Leander exined. Thought I would keep a bit of distance, the young nobleman said as his eyes nced over the members of court assembled. That fellow is still there, he muttered.


    Who? asked Troy.


    The young one, the one with the sword, Leander exined haltingly.


    Most men here have swords. All of them except the court seer, really, Troy said in a mocking tone.


    The one by the queen, Leander eximed, the young fop!


    You mean Lord Hugh, who saved the queens life and by all ounts is not only an aplished swordsman but a true person of worth? Troy said amused.


    Yes, yes, him, Leander said irritated. If he is so aplished at killing others, should he not be on a horse heading east?


    Somebody tried to murder the queen, Troy replied. Makes sense she wants somebody close by to protect her since they never found the man. Makes even more sense she wants the one protecting her who already proved hes up to the task.


    That is odd, though, Leander said with contemtion resonating in his voice. I mean, the pce is so heavily guarded. How did he escape? For that matter, why would anybody want to kill Theodora? Who would gain?


    Ounder spies? Troy suggested. Throw the realm into chaos while they attack?


    Maybe, Leander said, not sounding convinced.


    It is strange though that the assant escaped. I mean, he ran past me into the pce, youd think running inside would only have made his escape more difficult, Troy spected.


    What? He ran past you? Leaner asked, turning to look at his friend.


    Yes. I told you, Troy said impatiently. I was in the pce that day, looking for you. When I couldnt find you, I left Well, actually I stopped to pray at Egnils shrine inside the pce first. As I was leaving the pce, fellow ran into me, knocked me on my feet.


    How peculiar, Leander said pondering. Could you not recognise him if you saw him again?


    Well, maybe, Troy shrugged. Where do you suggest we start looking? Among the thousands of people in the city? Presuming he stuck around for weeks after failing to kill the queen.


    Yes, yes, forget about it, Leander said dismissively. They both turned their attention back on the procession of mounted warriors, which now had progressed down the streets to the lower districts. Want to get a drink? Think the owner of the Salt Pig is supposed to have a new barrel in today.


    Ill meet you thereter, the bard said. I havent been to the temple for a while,e to think of it. Probably time I went again.


    Ask Egnil for a lute that ys in tune while you are at it, Leander teased, which earned him a p on the shoulder from Troy. The two friends got up and leapt down from the wall, heading down into the lower circles until they finally split and went in different directions.


    ~~~~


    While watching the knights and noblemen ride down from the inner circle, Theodora cleared her face of all expressions and raised her hand to bid her father farewell. Stephen returned the gesture, sending his daughter a brief smile before his movements sent him forward and Theodora was out of his line of sight.


    You seem less than pleased, Your Majesty, Hugh said softly while standing by Theodoras side.


    Last time I saw my father, I was four. There barely was time to speak with him on this asion, she exined, speaking softly as well.


    It may take some time, but eventually the war will be won and he will return, Hugh assured her. There will be further asions soon.


    I hope so, Theodora said. And we have exchanged many letters over the years. It is not as if I have had no contact with him.


    Even so, separation is never easy, Hugh told her in aforting voice.


    Is your own father far from here? Is he fighting in Esmarch? Theodora asked, sending herpanion a nce before she looked back on the procession of warriors.


    Ah, no, that would be moot. Nobody lives in Esmarch anymore.


    What, nobody? Surely the farmers remain or your fathers household? Theodora said, sounding slightly shocked and this time keeping her gaze on Hugh.


    s, no. Esmarch is too near the mountains. The ounders have paths there which they use to circumvent the Langstan, Hugh exined. They have raided us for decades until nothing was left. I have not seen Esmarch in fifteen years or so, not since I was a small child.


    I did not know, Theodora said, her voice growing softer again. You spoke of the bluebells blossoming, I thought you came there often.


    It was long ago I saw that sight, Hugh admitted. I apologise for giving a false impression. No, Esmarch is deste, a wastnd. Nobody lives there, which is why my father came to Tothmor and became one of the Kings des.


    Finally, thest of the knights and noblemen had left the inner circle, and the queen turned around to walk inside the pce with her retinue. I am so sorry to hear this, Theodora confessed. I had no idea such was the state of things.


    None will fault you for that, Your Majesty, Hugh imed.


    But I am the queen, Theodora argued. I should know. Is that why you came to see me? That morning in the gardens when we first met, she asked, a little smile being evocated by the memory.


    Among other things, Hugh nodded. The cause is irrelevant, however. I am only d I was there.


    But where is your father now? Whenever you spoke of him, I merely assumed he was in Esmarch.


    Oh, he is in the city, Hugh nodded again. He has a house, of sorts.


    Really? Theodora eximed and stopped in the corridor where they were walking. And here I have been keeping you in the pce at all hours.


    It is no matter, Hugh smiled.


    I should not rob your father of his son entirely, Theodora chastised herself. You are free to visit him any time you desire, she told Hugh, and they began walking again.


    That is kind of you, Your Majesty, Hugh mumbled. I am not sure it would make much difference. He does not seem to take much note of my presence.


    My sympathies, Theodora said, her voice growing soft again. It would seem we are both absent fathers.


    So it would, Hugh said, her sentiment causing a smile to show on his face. They had reached the end of the corridor; beyondy the wing reserved for the monarch, her family, and her closest advisors.


    I have affairs to attend to with my aunt Irene, Theodora began exining as they stopped. She is rather particr about others not overhearing, she said slightly apologetic.


    I understand, Hugh said and inclined his head. I shall leave Your Majesty to your duties. But perhaps we may speak at ater hour?


    This afternoon, we will take a stroll in the orchards, Theodora smiled, which Hugh reciprocated before they parted.


    ~~~~


    The Salt Pig was one of many establishments serving beverages in Tothmor. Ity in the fourth district, the second-lowest circle, and so it had a more diverse clientele than its counterparts of the very lowest circle. Inside, Leander was bing acquainted with a goblet of wine when he spotted the red cap belonging to his lute-wielding friend. Troy, the young nobleman called out. Just in time to join me on second round.


    I dont think I want anything to drink, the bard said quietly, dropping down into a seat next to Leander.


    What is the matter? asked hispanion, putting his wine down on the table.


    I saw something at the temple of Egnil, Troy revealed.


    Go on, Leander encouraged him.


    It kept bothering me, the day the queen was attacked. Why the assant fled down the corridor towards Egnils shrine, the one inside the pce. That wing and the shrines are pretty much closed, barely any doors or windows to escape through.


    And?


    I realised something. Who could hide in a shrine without anybody questioning it? Troy asked and gave the answer himself. A priest, he said triumphantly.


    So? Leander asked impatiently.


    So, the attacker escaped the guards by dressing as a priest and hiding in the shrine! Troy said excitedly. Which had me thinking. You cant just get a robe from one of the priesthoods. They make them themselves, and theres harsh punishment for wearing them without being ordained, Troy exined.


    Yes, yes, your knowledge about the clergy is impressive. The point?


    I went to look around the temple of Egnil. Figure out how anybody could have stolen robes or if the brothers knew that any had been stolen.


    And? Leander urged him on.


    I saw him, Troy said slowly, looking into the eyes of his friend. Wearing a yellow robe. The man who tried to kill the queen. He wasnt just disguised as a priest. I think he is actually a priest of Egnil.


    Leanders eyes widened and he took a hefty gulp of his wine. Are you sure?


    I know it may be hard to believe, Troy said forcefully. Obviously he wasnt wearing robes on that day when he ran past me, and his hood obscured some of his face when I saw him today. But we looked at each other, and he recognised me. Not in a disinterested way. He looked at me with wide-open eyes and hurried away, all pale in his face. Yes, Troy said with conviction, I am sure.


    Hels bell, Leander muttered.


    Leander, what do we do?


    Just hold on, Leander said, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. If this is true, we need to consider carefully what we do. I mean, using one of the priesthoods is not done lightly, and we will be using others probably.


    Maybe he acted alone? Troy suggested, to which Leander shook his head.


    I find that hard to believe. Getting inside the first circle is not that easy even for a priest. Somebody must have given him ess or a reason to enter along with a weapon. Perhaps helped him escape afterwards as well. This speaks of more people involved.


    But what would the geolrobes stand to gain from the queens death? asked Troy.


    Nothing as far as I can see. I cannot see how that would change anything for them, Leander admitted, grabbing his goblet again. It seems like an inordinate amount of risk they took with nothing to show for it.


    True, Troy admitted. Nobody gained anything. Well except Lord Hugh. It was fortunate he chanced to be there, Troy added.


    It took a split moment before Leander almost dropped his cup against the table. Not by a chance, he whispered. It was never a coincidence.


    What? said Troy confused.


    Consider this. It is not a secret that Theodora spends her mornings in the rose gardens. An attacker finds his way inside with a knife to murder her. On that exact same day, Leander exined carefully, Hugh enters the garden as well, being allowed inside since he has no weapon. I have been told that on numerous asions how he stopped the attacker unarmed, Leander added with a disdainful expression.


    I am not sure I follow, Troy said slowly.


    It was staged. Like performing a y, Leander borated. The murder is prevented, Hugh is a hero.


    But what is he going to gain from it? Troy asked with a frown.


    He already has, Leander continued. He has the queens ear. About a month ago, he was a pauper of a nobleman. Now he is her confidant, most likely her trusted advisor.


    What about the geolrobes?


    I imagine that one day, this Hugh will suggest to the queen that she should have a new court seer. Why stop there? If Theodora is to marry one day, the court seer will perform the ceremony. Whom might she choose but the man who saved her life? Whom would the court seer support but the man that gave him his position, Leander said with a sneer. It is like a story from one of those terrible bads you perform.


    You really think that would happen? Troy asked with doubt in his voice.


    Theodora is sixteen years old. She has been isted most of her life with no friends. Herees a handsome man, a dashing hero to save her, befriend her, Leander said derisively. I do not know if she would fall for it. But I can imagine the geolrobes and Hugh believe she would, and that might be enough for them to enact such a n, the youth finished. He raised his cup as if to drink from it, but ceased his movement; instead, he threw it away with a forceful gesture, letting the fluid spill over the table and floor.


    We must tell her, Troy urged. We must warn the queen.


    Tell her what? That her saviour and closest friend these past weeks has betrayed her trust? Do you think she would believe me, whom she has always been told is her rival? Leander asked harshly.


    But I am a witness, Troy insisted.


    You are a bard, Leander corrected him. Your word means no more than a peasants, whereas Hugh is a nobleman.


    But I am telling the truth, Troy argued. You believe me, right? I recognised him, he mumbled.


    I believe you, Leander nodded, and Troy gave a slight sigh of relief. But you are my friend. Theodora has no cause to believe me or you.


    What about others? Thedy Irene has as much power as the queen, more even. We could tell her, Troy suggested, which elicited a bitterugh from Leander.


    The woman who has hated me since birth? You think she would trust anything I said?


    Right, Troy said downtrodden. How about we avoid mentioning Hugh? We just use the priests and let them spill the story in the dungeons.


    Once word gets out that the geolrobes have been arrested, Hugh will know he is in danger of being discovered. He might do something drastic while he still has ess to Theodora, Leander pointed out. I will not allow her to remain at risk from this viper in velvet.


    What should we do then? Troy asked dismayed.


    Leander picked up his toppled goblet and peered into its empty insides. cing it back on the table, he gave a sigh. I do not know. Let me think.


    Troy sat in silence, staring at his friend. Leander leaned forward, cing his head between his hands. He leaned back again, resting left hand on the hilt of his sword while he ran his right hand through his hair. Leander? Troy asked as softly as he could without whispering.


    I know, Leander answered. I know. I have to do something.


    We, Troy corrected him. Ill help you. Im the one whos a witness, after all.


    Sorry, Troy, Leander said. That will not help. I will have to do this on my own.


    Do what? Do you have a n?


    Yes, Leander said slowly. I am going to the pce. Thank you, Troy, for being my friend. Have a drink on me, he said and ced his heavy purse in Troys hand. Before the bard could speak, Leander patted Troy on the shoulder as he stood up and walked away, leaving the tavern.


    ~~~~


    The guards at the gate between the first and second district were used to seeing Leander; he was typically in and out of the pce at all hours possible. However, he normally walked either with a quick step in his feet or else with certain difficulty stemming from imbibing. This time he was walking slowly yet steadily. He passed through the gate, giving the guards a slight nod. Continuing, he entered the pce. Like walking in a dream, Leander moved at this slow pace until he spotted the steward of the pce. Where is the queen? he asked.


    In the royal wing, the steward replied. But she is in meeting and not to be disturbed, my lord.


    Good, Leander nodded. Where is Lord Hugh?


    In his rooms, I imagine? the steward suggested, shrugging from uncertainty. He has at timestely spent afternoons out in the gardens, but usually in the queenspany, not alone.


    I see, Leander simply said. Thank you. With that, he continued his journey through the pce.


    Eventually, having searched other ces, Leander emerged in the orchard adjacent to the pce that supplied it with fruits. The trees were blooming and there was a ripe scent in the air. Further ahead, he saw Hugh. As thetter discovered Leanders presence, he turned, and they exchanged looks.


    I offer you a choice, Leander began to speak. Leave now. Do not speak with anyone, bring nothing with you. Leave, go west, never return.


    Is this some manner of jest? Hugh replied with a confused smile as Leander approached.


    I know about your involvement with the geolrobes.


    Ah. Hughs smile turned knowing. And what exactly is the nature of your threat?


    I am the queens cousin, Leander began to speak.


    In name, yes, but little more, Hugh interrupted. You have no reputation here save for infamy and being a drunkard.


    I will stop you, one way or the other, Leander imed, and his right hand crossed over to touch the hilt of his sword hanging by his left side. Hughs response was a raised eyebrow.


    I think we both know how that would end, Hugh said, his left hand casually resting on the hilt of his own sword. No, I will offer you a choice. Leave, never speak of this again, and I shall forget this ever happened.


    I cannot ept that, Leander said simply, and he drew his sword.


    An amused smile found its way onto Hughs face as he drew his own sword. Really, then? You against me? The son of the best swordsman in the realm?


    I was trained by your father same as you, Leander cautioned his adversary while advancing.


    And if I recall, you were the worst student he ever had, Hugh said with a knowing smile; already his sword was in his hand, making its first strike.


    Immediately Leander was on the defensive. He managed to deliver a high blow with no other effect than it struck into a nearby tree and sent leaves falling from above. He was forced to retreat several steps, fleeing from the swiftness and uracy of Hughs attacks. Crouching low, Leander struck back to no avail; as soon as he made the first motion of his strike, Hugh read his intentions and evaded. A session of speedy assaults pushed Leander further back until he had his back against a tree. He almost lost his bnce and had to swing back, striking blindly with his sword to buy him time. Hugh took a step back, watching with amusement, and moved forward again quickly. He brought his sword high in an arc, forcing Leander to raise his sword as well in defence. While their des were locked, Hugh smiled and used his superior sense of bnce; with Leander pressed, Hugh raised one boot and aimed a kick straight onto Leanders right kneecap.


    With a gasp of pain, Leander was sent to the ground, falling on his back. He tried to raise his sword, but his grasp had weakened; Hugh struck it aside and sent the de flying. With a swift motion, he aimed the tip of his sword at Leanders throat. An expression of fear shed across Leanders face before it was reced by defiance. Why the wait? Leander spit out.


    If I kill you, regardless of circumstances, the queen cannot forgive that, Hugh said with a contemtive voice. Infamous or not, you are her blood. She cannot simply forgive somebody spilling royal blood. Was that your n, little man? Hugh continued, crouching down to stare into Leanders eyes. Force me to kill you, make me lose all standing? I am not so easily duped. Guards! Hugh yelled, standing up again. He sheathed his sword and walked several steps away while yelling as loudly as his lungs could bear. Guards, help! Guards!


    Soon after, guards came running rmed by the call. Restrain him, Hugh ordered them while nodding towards Leander, who had stood up. Do not let him take his sword. The guards did notply, however; they looked in confusion between the two noblemen, unsure what to do. For Hels sake, Hugh cursed, bring the queen! Tell her she is needed.


    I am already here, came a female voice. Down the path between the trees walked Theodora, frowning at the scenery. What has happened here?


    Theodora, Leander began to speak, Hugh is a traitor and a liar! He


    He spouted this nonsense and attacked me, Hugh cut in. Raved about priests and murderers and whatnot, and then he attacked me! Hugh imed and pointed towards where Leanders swordy in the grass. I disarmed him, but he is still delusional.


    That is a lie! Leander said fiercely. He is deceiving you, Theodora, he manipted everything since you met!


    I am Your Majesty, Theodora said coldly. Those are serious usations.


    Do not be harsh on him, Your Majesty, Hugh intervened. He must have had perhaps too much to drink, although it is early to be this affected.


    No! Leander objected. I am not drunk.


    Then perhaps heat stroke, Hugh suggested. Or his mind is unwell. Let a physician examine him.


    Theodora, please, Leander pleaded. I am your cousin, your kin, your friend. I am telling you that Hugh arranged everything, the attack on you, protecting you, it was all a lie!


    For a moment, everything was silent. Nobody dared speak. The insistence and urgency on Leanders face was contrasted by the tension apparent in Hughs countenance; Theodoras expression was indeterminable. Finally the queen spoke. I do not believe you, she said quietly. Guards, take him away.


    Theodora, no! Your Majesty, please, Leander begged, shying away from the guards.


    What is the meaning of this disturbance! eximed a new voice, belonging to Irene. Followed by the court seer, she now joined the gathering.


    It would seem my cousin has gone mad, Theodora said. Or worse, he is some kind of traitor. He tried to kill Lord Hugh.


    What on earth possessed you to do that? Irene asked.


    He is the traitor, Leander mumbled. He has been deceiving us all. I was trying to stop him, he said weakly, ncing towards Hugh who did his best to mask his smile.


    You stupid child! You thought this was the best way to handle it? Irene said in disbelief. To get yourself killed! Is your mind addled?


    There was a brief moment where confusion spread among some of the others present. Aunt Irene, I think you misunderstand. Leander attacked Hugh without cause, Theodora said carefully, hesitantly.


    On the contrary, Irene said impatiently, while his method is questionable, there is nothing wrong with Leanders motivations. He is quite right about Hugh, though I wonder how his feeble mind discovered the truth. Irenes words left everyone stunned. As Hugh recovered from his stupor, his right hand fumbled to grasp his sword. Oh, do not even try, Irene said dismissively as she noticed. Guards, seize him and throw him in chains.


    This time, the guards did not hesitate and they swarmed Hugh. He managed to draw his sword, but it was immediately knocked from his grip. He began to yell something, but a guard hit him on the mouth and silenced him before they dragged him away.


    But Aunt Irene, Theodora protested, what is going on? Why are you doing this?


    Like the boy said, Hugh is a traitor. He is in the league with the geolrobes. They orchestrated the attack on you so that he could gain your favour, Irene exined. Dominic, we must act immediately, she said to the court seer. Have the priests arrested before they are aware that their ns are spoiled.


    Yes, mdy, the ckrobe said, bowing to the nobles present and leaving.


    But, Theodora spoke slowly, you knew this? You knew this and did nothing?


    My dear, Irene said impatiently once more, when a plotes to your attention, you do not panic. There was no immediate danger, and we needed time to unmask all the conspirators. The priests, people working with them here in the pce, it takes time to learn the full extent. Torture will have to get us the remaining names.


    But you kept this from me! Theodora burst out incredulously. You let me spend every day with him, knowing he was manipting me!


    Always under observation, Irene countered. You did not think you were allowed to be anything close to alone with him?


    That is not the point, Theodora argued. How could you keep me in the dark for weeks?


    For your own safety, Irene told her. If you had known, could you have kept up the pretence? Very clearly Leander could not, Irene added with a disdainful look towards the youth, who so far had been quiet through the exchange between the queen and her aunt. If I ever had doubts about your capabilities, you certainly proved them right! Irene spoke, directed at Leander. Typical men, only way to solve a problem is to hack at it with your sword. You are as useless as I ever


    Irene! Theodora said sharply. That is enough. You may leave us.


    As you wish, Irene said with a mocking smile.


    With thedy gone, Theodora nced towards Leander. I am not sure what to say to you, she admitted when they were alone; her voice was quivering slightly, but it did not sound unkind.


    I think I am hurt, actually, Leander replied, pressing his hand to his side. There were traces of blood upon his clothes and hand. He must have nicked me. Not serious, but it is a bit painful.


    Oh dear, Theodora eximed. She took hold of Leanders free arm. Come, let us get you to the physician, she said, guiding him out of the orchard and into the pce.


    ~~~~


    Once they reached Brother Laurences apothecary, he briefly examined the wound and applied a paste to it. That will seal it up. Rest and dont open it up, and youll be fine, the gruff surgeon stated and returned to his herbs and powders.


    Anything for the pain? Leander asked, to which Laurence merely scoffed. Right, Leander added and left the physicians quarters along with Theodora.


    Come, I will follow you to your chamber. You should get some rest before supper, she admonished him, to which he did not object. They walked in silence for a while; Theodora once more took Leanders arm in support even if his wound did not necessitate it. I am still confused by what you did, Theodora confessed at length.


    Me too, Leander mumbled. Apparently it was not even half as clever as I thought.


    If you had killed him, Theodora spoke, avoiding Hughs name, did you think your exnation would suffice? That without proof you would not be considered guilty of murder?


    I did not think too much about it, Leander admitted. I figured there was a limit to how bad you would treat me. He would be gone, that was more important than what happened to me.


    But, Theodora argued further, did you honestly think you would win? I mean not to cause offence, it is merely that


    I am terrible with a sword, and he is not, Leander finished. Yes, I know. No, I was more or less certain it would end with his de in me and not the reverse.


    Hearing this, Theodora stopped and turned to look at him. But why?


    Well, if he killed me, there would be consequences, Leander exined. I mean, I assume you would not simply have let that slide.


    No, I mean, you were ready to die? I do not understand.


    I guess I did not contemte it much. I just thought nobody was looking out for you, Leander said, one hand on his wound and the other making a defeated gesture. Yes, it was foolish of me. But we are family, in some way. I did not know what else to do. I have no skills of any kind. Getting killed seemed like something I might reasonably aplish, though I somehow failed at that too, he added with a smile.


    Theodora stood staring at him for a moment; then she took hold of his arm again, and they continued walking while she leaned her head on his shoulder. You are a fool, she said, but at least it would seem you are my fool. Finally, they reached the entrance to his chamber. Now rest, and if you are up for it, be at supper. Maybe we can do something to reward you for, well, being wounded in your queens service, Theodora added with a wry smile towards his injury.


    There is something, in fact, Leander said quickly.


    Yes? his queen said as a question.


    Would you share salt with me? But not with the whole court present, Leander specified.


    Take meal with you alone, you mean?


    Yes, Leander nodded. Somewhere secluded. Not the orchard, he added hastily. But maybe the rose gardens. Have a table brought, food and wine.


    Wine as well? Theodora said with wry smile. Being injured has not changed you profoundly, I see.


    As they say, in salt is life, in wine is trust, Leander said with a smile of his own. I am not so fond of the great hall. But I should enjoy sharing a meal with you in privacy.


    That can be arranged, Theodora granted, if you promise to rest. Leander gave a small bow, careful not to disturb his wound, and it was settled.

 Chapter 24: A Clash of Colours

    Chapter 24: A sh of Colours


    A sh of Colours


    Southeast of Tothmor


    On the moors south and east of Tothmory a small vige called Sikyon. Nearby, thebined forces of the Order and the Hthian nobles had made camp. It was a disjointed affair. The smaller part of the camp was upied by the knights and their attendants, and they had set up ording to their standard practices. Their tents were erected in linear formations with approximately equal distance to each other, their horses were gathered in one section and cared for, and most of the men spent their time tending to their equipment.


    Therger part of the camp belonged to the Hthian nobles and their contingents of soldiers, which meant that they had made camp as each lord pleased, typically with his own conscripts circled around him. Some maintained good discipline, while others gave their men free reins; brawls were not that umon as the soldiers, many of them little more than peasants given a weapon, were looking for ways to while away time until they would meet the enemy. There were also the longbowmen, some of whom fought for the nobles and some of whom were recruited directly by the Order; they were mostly left to their own devices and banded together when they could, forming small enves amidst the other groupings in the camp.


    The army had reached this position some days ago and chosen to make permanent camp. Now, scouts reported that the ounder army had all but reached the Mearcian positions on their march towards Tothmor, and both sides were preparing for the inevitability of battle. It waste in the day when Leonard, marshal of Hthiod, strode through the Orders part of the camp. He reached one tent that wasrger than the others and guarded by soldiers, though they did not hinder the marshals passage. Leonard walked straight in and found the lord marshal and Sir William waiting for him.


    Thest scouts confirm, Leonard told them. They are about fifteen thousand strong on foot.


    Seems initial reports were exaggerated, Reynold said with a touch of disdain. I seem to recall hearing at least twenty thousand were marching on Tothmor.


    They still outnumber our infantry, even if not by much, William pointed out. What about the horse?


    It was harder to ascertain, Leonard admitted. But my men would estimate some hundreds, perhaps equal to our number.


    Should not be a match for our knights, the lord marshal remarked dismissively. With five hundred of those, we can ride anything down.


    The fact that they have a sizeable force of cavalry should caution us nheless, William argued.


    You fear being outnked? Leonard asked.


    A certain part of our troops are our bowmen, William answered. This tnd is ideal for cavalry movements. Should their horses manage to circumvent us, they can not only outnk us, they can clear our archers with impunity.


    Which is why we will keep our knights in reserve, Reynold exined. I will take charge of them personally. Once we know where they havemitted their cavalry, we will counter with our own. Push theirs back, then wheel around and charge their infantry in the nks.


    That seems sound, William agreed. But you intend to lead the knights yourself, my lord? What of infantry reserves?


    As you said, our footmen are outnumbered. We cannot afford keeping any reserves.


    You willmit the entirety of our infantry to the front lines? asked Leonard. That is highly unusual.


    Our situation is unusual, Reynold argued. Most of our forces are levies. We barely have any Order infantry to shore up the centre. Do you think these ounder scum will keep any reserves?


    No, my lord, Leonard admitted. But I would believe our differences in tactics a strength.


    Not on this asion. When this rabble attack, we can expect them to send their entire force against us. But as long as our infantry can hold, I will lead the knights forward, and they will decide the battle in our favour.


    I see your reasoning, William said, though he sounded unconvinced. I am merely uncertain about changing our standard tactics. The captain of the army should remain out ofbat with reserves to deploy when something unforeseen happens.


    As long as the infantry holds, Reynold said dismissively. As first lieutenant that is your task. Is that not also your reputation?


    It is, my lord, William acknowledged with a nod.


    Good. Hold the line and wait for my attack. Once our knights charge, we will end this battle.


    Very well, my lord, William replied, and both he and Leonard took leave of the lord marshal.


    Outside, the marshal of Hthiod was about to move towards his own tent, but a gesture from William halted him. Sir Leonard, William spoke. Despite my origins here I have little experience fighting the ounders. Are they as we all seem to expect?


    They are ruffians, Leonard remarked with derision in his voice. They prey on those weaker. Attacking in the night, going against easy targets such as viges, outlying towns, or farms. The force we face may berger than what we have seen before, but they are the same men. If we show them strength, they will flee.


    I suppose you are right, William conceded. I am merely cast into doubt by their presence in this manner. They have brought horses across the Langstan, which must require organisation. Doubly so if they have also brought siege equipment. And we must assume they have, for why else march towards Tothmor?


    I see your concern, Leonard granted. But it still fits their pattern. They seek the richest target, so they aim for the capital. It is still the thinking of thieves and brigands. Bringing a horse across the wall does not make them a disciplined fighting force, Leonard continued his argument. Theye here seeking plunder, and they will disappear when met with retribution.


    I suppose so, William muttered.


    Do not worry, Leonard told the knight, sping his shoulder. As long as the infantry holds, our knights will tear through their ranks. With that, the marshal left the knight standing alone in the bustling camp.


    ~~~~


    Some thirty miles awayy the ounder camp. It wasid out in an orderly fashion with its tents raised symmetrically and sentries posted at the natural vantage points. By the edges of the camp were dug trenches to hinder approach, andrge, wooden pikes had been dug in to prevent horses from leaping across and into the fortified area. With the camp set up, trenches excavated, and watchmen assigned, the remaining soldiers were engaged in various activities of their own design. Some yed dice and gambled with coins, knives, pieces of clothing, and what else might be found.


    The soldiers could be roughly divided into two groups. About two thirds of them wore a dark red robe over their scale or mail armour. They had iron helmets covered in ck cloth, which could be lowered akin to full headgear to cover the face from wind and dust and leaving only a small opening for the eyes. In camp and on a peaceful evening such as this, however, all the soldiers had their headgear wrapped around their helmets and showed their faces openly as they conversed, jested,ughed, and passed the time.


    The remaining third of the soldiers were less uniformly attired. Most of them wore robes, tunics, and cloaks of different colours. Not all of them had a helmet to put on his head but merely a thick cloth cap, which could also be lowered to cover the entire face. Their equipment was more diverse as well; they had spears and shields of different sizes, and some of it was more worn than the rest.


    Finally, there was a small group of soldiers who kept to themselves. They wore leather and cloth dyed ck, including their boots. The colour would often fade or be worn through use, and they would frequently reapply the dye to their boots. Whenever they had done so, it would leave a faint trace of ck dye on the ground where they walked, outlining the sole of the boot; hence their moniker as ckboots among the Mearcians, who often after a raid would find no trace of the enemy except the outlines of ck boot prints in the ground. They were few in number in this army, however, amounting to a few hundred at most, and they served primarily as scouts and watchmen.


    In the centre of the camp stood a tent grander than the others. Inside was a proper bed with pillows and silken sheets among other pieces of furniture, and an assortment of fruit and a golden gon of wine was ced upon a table. The men inside were dressed in richer attirepared to themon soldiers. Their red robes had threads of gold woven into them, they wore rings on their fingers, and nes of precious metals and gemstones hung around their necks. While they had steel helmets with the typical cloth wrapped around them, the fabric was white instead of ck as for the rest of the army.


    There were four inside the great tent dressed in this way that distinguished them from the rest. One of them sat on a divan, while the other three stood waiting. A few servants flittered in and out, supplying the men with whatever they desired and otherwise keeping themselves away from attention. Lastly, there was one more person, keeping to the fleeting shadows created by themps in the tent. His armour and outfit was dark, helping his concealment; little more than his eyes could be seen, which were of a yellow hue.


    Jenaab Sikandar, said one of the men entering, speaking the native tongue of the ounders. Theirnguage came as a flowing sensation, like a river that on asion experienced a sudden drop or change in elevation. Now that the enemy is within sight, we are all eager to hear your ns.


    The person asking was the shortest in the room and had directed the question to the seated nobleman, who rose from his seat to stand towering over the shorter man. Both of them had the same dark eyes and tanned skin as the others in the room, which was also considered typical of the heathmen. In fact, only their clothing made them different in appearance from many of the people inhabiting Tothmor.


    Jenaab Dalir, said Sikandar with a smile, ask and you shall be answered. Tomorrow we will march out and face the enemy near their current position.


    We are ready to give battle then? asked a third man. Unlike the others, who had moustaches or more kempt beards, his hair was growing wild.


    Yes, Jenaab Arash, Sikandar told him. They have a strong position near their camp and will no doubt be d to fight us there. We will not disappoint.


    And you have devised the means to victory surely, suprememander? came a question from Dalir.


    I have, Sikandar nodded. Jenaab Dalir, you will lead the infantry. You will hold the front line and ensure it does not falter. It is a position of utmost honour.


    I am grateful, Dalir bowed. And when you say infantry, you mean I am to lead? he asked without finishing his sentence.


    Not the Anausa, Sikandar said, which made the othermander, Arash, give a slightly contemptuous smile. You will lead the conscripts taking the brunt of the blow. Jenaab Arash will put his expertise to use by leading the Anausa.


    I am honoured to be chosen to lead the true infantry, Arash said, bowing his head deeply and thereby concealing his grin.


    Which leaves Jenaab Rostam leading the Zhayedan, Sikandar finished, looking at the third of his lieutenants who was also the tallest of the men present. Rostam did not reply except inclining his head in eptance of his position.


    And our task during the battle? asked Arash.


    Infantry against infantry, our Anausa should prove stronger. Jenaab Dalir will hold the front line as long as he can. Once closebat has begun and bes protracted, Jenaab Arash, you will bring the Anausa into closebat, Sikandar exined. This battle will be decided on horseback, however, the suprememander continued.


    As strong as our Zhayedan are, Rostam began, these Mearcian knights are not to be underestimated. We may have more horsemen than their five hundred, but even so I do not favour our odds.


    Perhaps Jenaab Rostam has no faith in the chosen of Shahriyar? asked Dalir in a mocking tone. If he doubts his ability to lead our cavalry, I would humbly take his ce. I have no doubt in the victory of Shahriyars soldiers, the nobleman spoke, entuating the personal pronoun in hisst sentence.


    Do not speak to me thus, Sikandar said, and his smile vanished. I am no courtier for you to wag your tongue at. The yellow-eyed warrior behind Sikandar gave a low grumble, almost inaudible.


    Jenaab, I meant nock of respect, Dalir hurried to add, to which Sikandar waved his hand dismissively to silence him.


    Jenaab Rostam speaks the truth and will not be vilified for it, Sikandar added. Our Zhayedan cannot defeat these knights in an even fight.


    With permission, Jenaab, said Arash. I thought it was the preferred tactic of these Mearcians to let their knights charge at the enemy infantry? Tearing the ranks apart, allowing their own footmen to surge forward and shatter the enemy formation.


    True, Sikandar granted. And should they do this, it will be Jenaab Dalirs task to keep our infantry together and yours to support him, the captain exined. While their cavalry is thus engaged, ours will outnk them and crush those damnable longbows of theirs.


    And if they do not engage their cavalry directly? asked Rostam.


    You must draw them out, Sikandar said. We cannot allow their knights to remain atrge, able to join the fight at the crucial moment. Engage their knights, draw them back. I will keep infantry in reserve to support you. Even those demons must die if given enough blows.


    Your will is mymand, Rostam said, inclining his head. The other two subordinatemanders, Dalir and Arash, immediately repeated this sentiment.


    Good. Tell your men to prepare for battle tomorrow, and let them know that the god in the mountain is watchful, Sikandar impressed upon his lieutenants. They gave a final bow and backed out of the tent, avoiding showing their backs to their leader, who returned to his divan and fruit.


    ~~~~


    The following morning was cold, considering it was not many days past the height of summer. A heavy nket of cloudsy across the sky as two armies marched out of their camps until they could take positions opposite each other. As the soldiers went into formation, the lord marshal met a final time with his lieutenants before they split up to take their designated posts. Our infantry has the stronger position, Reynold said as he gazed east towards the enemy. Thend sloped slightly downwards which meant the ounders would be moving uphill when closing the distance between the two armies. Under no circumstances are you to move forward and yield that advantage, the lord marshal said forcefully. Leonard, William, and Stephen each nodded in understanding. Keep your men in reins. Just hold your ground until our cavalry can engage, and the battle is ours.


    With those words, he dismissed them and took his own position at the back of their army with the knights. In front of him were the Hthian longbowmen, many hundreds of them. Beyond were lined in numerous ranks the infantry, standing closest to the enemy. Stephen rode north to takemand of the left nk, Leonard rode south to position himself by the right nk, and William rode east to join his men in the centre.


    With everything prepared, the lord marshal nodded to one of his bannermen, who waved his banner as a signal. In response, the archerpanies moved forward until they were close behind the infantry and in range of the enemy. They prepared their bows and arrows, ready to shoot volleys uponmand. With the next signal, thismand came, and the air was filled with hundreds of arrows.


    On the other side of the battlefield, the ounders waited. Their front lines consisted of the unevenly uniformed soldiers with their mismatched equipment and weapons. They formed an outer shell of sorts, covering not only the front but also the edges of their entire infantry formation. Inside this shell were positioned the red-robed infantry, the Anausa; further behind, beyond the reach of any arrows, was a reserve of Anausa infantry as well as the Zhayedan cavalry.


    As the longbowmens barrage of arrows began, cries of rm were heard among the ounder army. They raised their shields in protection, enduring the first volley without response. Then theirmander Arash gave an order, and half of the red-robed footmen took out bows from their backs. In front of them and into the ground, they had stuck arrows in preparation of battle, and now they began shooting them rapidly while the other half of the soldiers continued to use their shields to protect themselves and their bow-wieldingpanions from the enemy archers.


    Up towards four thousand arrows wereunched at once and sent against the Mearcian army. Confusion spread immediately; at this distance, they had not been able to spot the Anausa armed with bows, especially not since they were standing behind the irregr troops at the front line. The Mearcians were not ustomed either to what was clearly deployed as the enemys infantry carrying bows into battle. The few Order soldiers among the infantry carriedrge shields that kept them safe, but the more varied weaponry among the Hthian levies as well as their typically inferior armour left them more exposed. The first hail of arrows did far more damage than what their own longbowmen had done to the ounders. It was followed by another and another.


    ~~~~


    Sitting atop his horse and surrounded by his mounted squire and his own bannermen, William watched with increasing concern. As first lieutenant, he was in charge of the infantry of the Mearcian army, yet he was still subordinate to the lord marshals suprememand.


    Sir, said Williams squire. What is happening? Is this what was supposed to happen?


    Their infantry is trained as archers, the knight said in astonishment. They have thousands upon thousands of footmen over there wielding bows, barraging us with arrows before switching into closebat.


    How is that possible? asked the squire.


    It is warfare unlike we know it, William said with a frown. But they cannot be heavily armoured if they are to retain the agility and strength to shoot many volleys. We must close the gap and engage them.


    Did not the lord marshal forbid us from advancing?


    When knowledge of the enemy changes, so must our battle n. Our men will fall apart if we are to endure this for long, William argued. Ride to the lord marshal, tell him he must order us to advance. The squire wasted no further time but turned his horse around and galloped through the lines of archers until he reached the back of the army.


    My lord, the squire said as he reached the supreme Ordermander, slightly out of breath from the sudden exertion. Sir William requests that you order the infantry to advance. We must attack, he says, before their arrows tear our ranks apart.


    I will do no such thing, roared Reynold over the sound of arrows being released by the longbowmen. Cavalry will decide this battle, and I will lead them forward where and when appropriate. Tell Sir William to keep his spurs steady and his nerves in check!


    The squire looked towards the mass of riders behind Reynold but found none sympathetic to his cause; if they were, they did not speak up. Unable to do anything further, the squire inclined his head to the lord marshal and turned his horse around, riding back towards his lord.


    Whilst arrows continued to rain down from both sides, William kept an eager look back towards his own lines. It was only when he saw his squire returning to him, yet no signal from the lord marshals bannerman to advance, that his countenance became clouded.


    Forgive me, my lord, the squire gasped. I could not sway him.


    It was not your failing, William said tight-lipped, gazing back towards the infantrymen under hismand. Holes were beginning to appear where the ounder archers had done most damage. Swallowing, the knight made his decision. Signal the advance, he told one of his bannermen. The man in question gave an uncertain look since no such order hade from the banners around the lord marshal, yet he dared not disobey; hesitating, he signalled with his banner that the infantry was to advance.


    William looked north and south towards his nks. Yet neither of the bannermen there gave reply; both Stephen and Leonard were following the lord marshals orders, refusing to acknowledge Williamsmand. In front of him, the infantry under his directmand in the centre were bing confused. The men-at-arms had seen Williams bannerman signalling for them to approach the enemy, but they had the night before been told the same as theirmanders; they were not to move forward under any circumstances.


    My lord, what do we do? asked the squire.


    Baldwin, William said to him. Are you prepared to follow me anywhere?


    Into death, my lord, answered the boy earnestly.


    Good. That is our destination, the knight dered and spurred his horse forward into a slow trot. Baldwin quickly followed suit. The two riders reached the back of their own infantry lines and pushed through them. They were now within reach of arrows, but their armour and shields protected them, and they continued past the footmen.


    Now in full view of the entire army, William drew his sword and raised it high. He nced behind him and then yelled the old battle cry of the Order whose origin was all but lost to time. For the Alliance! Men of the Star, charge! Next to him, Baldwin did likewise. Without further hesitation, William spurred his horse forward in a trot, attacking the enemy by himself.


    Bewilderment seized every man upon the battlefield, Mearcian and ounder alike, who was close enough to watch the lone rider charging a host of foes. Only Baldwin, most loyal of all the squires in the Order and no older than fifteen, did not hesitate either but charged alongside his lord. The spell of confusion endured a moment longer before the entirety of the Mearcian infantry roared in lust for battle and stormed forward across the line. The decision was taken out of the hands of the nkmanders, Leonard and Stephen; they could only do as their soldiers did. Centre, left and right nk, every man surged forward towards the ounder army.


    ~~~~


    It took what seemed like mere moments for the Mearcian footmen to cross the distance and engage the ounders. Although William and Baldwin arrived first and crashed into the enemy infantry lines, they were immediately supported by their own soldiers, now eager to cross des and draw blood. General hand-to-handbat erupted all along the frontlines from nk to nk, and soon both armies were deeply embroiled. The longbowmen ceased shooting due to the danger of striking their own, and the red-robed Anausa infantry put away their bows, gripped their short spears from the ground and their shields from their backs, and charged forward to support their own front line. So forceful was the Mearcian charge that the ill-equipped soldiers on the ounder front ranks were all but shattered within a handful of moments; their leader, Dalir, attempted to keep them in line as long as possible, but their lines were quickly torn asunder. Acting swiftly, Arash gave a newmand to his Anausa infantry, who now stormed forward and kept the ounder army in formation.


    Meanwhile, far behind where the infantries shed, the lord marshal was seething. I gave him direct orders, he shouted. I will have his spurs for this and then his head!


    My lord, what should we do? asked one of the nearby knights. Reynold nced around, looking at the riders behind him and then at the shing infantry ahead of him.


    We wait, the lord marshal said with a clenched jaw. Cavalry will decide the oue. We wait. Upon hearing this, the knights, their squires, and their sergeants steadied their horses and waited.


    They were not long disappointed. With the foot soldiers heavily engaged and the lines wavering, Rostam gave signal to the Zhayedan. Seven hundred red-d riders moved out, riding in a semicircle north towards the Mearcian left nk. As soon as this became apparent, the knights mirrored this movement. Five hundred heavily armoured riders in ck surcoats rode north, clear of the battle lines, until they stood opposite their ounder counterparts. Only soil separated the two mountedpanies with no obstacles in their path.


    Both cavalrymanders gave signal, and more than a thousand horses thundered forward. Spears were lowered, shields steadied, and the men braced themselves for impact, red against ck. The five hundred knights rode in a near perfect wedge formation; as they reached the Zhayedan, their discipline and heavier armour won the first engagement. Like an arrow, the Mearcians prated into the ranks of the red riders, throwing many of them off their steeds. Spears splintered and shed blood. The knights drove the Zhayedan back, and behind them came their squires and sergeant in support. Soon, they had pushed the ounder cavalry back east beyond their own battle lines.


    The lord marshalughed as he grasped his sword and struck another foe. To his right, he could see the ounder infantry battling his own troops; once the enemy cavalry broke away, they were in position to bear down on the ounders nk and shatter them. Another enemy fell and another. In the distance, he could see the ounder captain sitting on his horse, surrounded by a small guard. The lord Sikandar was watching the cavalries fighting, and soon after he gave a signal ording to his stratagem.


    Two thousand of the Anausa infantry, so far kept out of the battle, now rushed north towards the cavalry engagement. They were equipped with longer spears than those of their brethren fighting the Mearcian footmen, which came into great use. The new troops swarmed the knights, who lost their momentum. They were fought to a standstill and chaos erupted as the ounder foot soldiers wove in and out, dragging knights from their horses and killing them.


    Reynold cursed as his own horse was in underneath him and he fell to the ground. Immediately three ounders surrounded him. He evaded a blow from the first enemy and gave one in return, but his second foe entrapped Reynolds shield with his sword, wresting it aside. The third ounder brought his spear forward and embedded it deep in the lord marshal between where his left shoulder te met the mail shirt underneath. With a dazed look, Reynold lost the grip on his sword and dropped to his knees before he finally fell dead to the ground.


    ~~~~


    Where the infantry lines shed, the battle was also hard fought. After leading the charge, William had soon lost his horse. He moved in and out ofbat, appearing wherever the line threatened to waver and swinging his sword into action. The front soldiers of the ounder army had for the most part been killed or sent retreating long ago, but the red-robed Anausa remained and had filled the ranks instead. Under the leadership of Arash, they fought with discipline and skill, much like Order soldiers, and they were equal in number to the Mearcian infantry. Slowly but surely, they were pressing forward, and William was constantly forced to reinforce his men, either in person or by sending soldiers from the back towards where the ounders threatened to push through.


    Though unhurt, sweat pooled by his brow to such a degree that it threatened to blind him. Retreating a few steps, the knight threw his helm away to let his head be cooled. He was wiping the sweat away with his bracer when Leonard found him. The marshal of Hthiod had taken several wounds, but none seemed severe; despite his age and condition, Leonard walked briskly towards William.


    Look! he yelled over the sounds of battle, directing Williams attention to the north. The ck surcoats with the white, seven-pointed star were lost in a sea of red robes, blinking out of sight. The knights must retreat and regroup, or they and we will be overwhelmed! Leonard imed.


    Why does the lord marshal not sound a retreat? asked William with a yell.


    I suspect he is blind to the truth, the old marshal said bitterly. If he is not dead already. His arrogance will not let him retreat. Go, relieve him ofmand, he said to the knight. The men listen to you above any other. Reform the ranks and lead a new charge, and we might hold a chance to turn the tide.


    Our infantry, William shouted back. You have gone from the right nk, and the left nk is already caving. I fear Lord Stephen is dead. If we lose here, the knights will not avail us!


    I will hold the centre in your ce, Leonard dered. The nks must survive as they can. Now go, go! he urged.


    The knight hesitated only a second before he turned and sprinted north. As he approached the site where the two cavalries fought, William spotted a riderless horse. It was skittish and unnerved by the loss of its master, but he sheathed his sword and ced his hand on its muzzle. The mare calmed to the touch and allowed William to mount; sensing an experienced horseman in the saddle, the beast regained its nerve and became a sentient tool at his disposal. He spurred the horse northwards and galloped away, finally reaching the chaos that reigned over the cavalry engagement.


    The lord marshals sergeant and bannerman was still on his horse; due to the nature of his supporting position, he had not be as deeply entrenched into the enemy ranks as the knights had. William rode directly towards him and seized his attention by grabbing his right arm. The sergeant almost struck out with his left hand but stopped once he recognised the first lieutenant. Sound the retreat, Williammanded the sergeant. Not a full retreat, but only for thispany. The sergeant nodded and grabbed the horn hanging around his neck. Lifting it to his lips, he blew two clear notes into it. He waited a few moments and repeated the signal. The sound caught the attention of the Mearcian riders, who knew its meaning. As well as they could, they turned their horses around and galloped back.


    Some of the knights and their followers were unable to extricate themselves and were cut down as the remainder retreated; however, most of the remaining men in ck surcoats escaped from the Zhayedan surrounding them. Rostam, themander of the ounder cavalry watched the retreat of the knights with an unreadable expression upon his noble countenance. His sword was nk and had not been bloodied since he had kept to the rear directing his men; as they now turned towards him to wait for orders, he signalled that they were not to give pursuit. By Rostams side was a yellow-eyed warrior akin to Sikandars shadow; he growled something as Rostam gave this order, but thetter repeated hismand. Both riders and infantry from the ounder army obeyed and halted. Soon and not far from their own position, they saw the knights reforming their line and preparing for a new charge.


    ~~~~


    While the knights, their squires, and their sergeants prepared themselves for a final engagement north of the main battle, the Mearcian infantry had sustained heavy losses. The centre held for now. Whereas the nks consisted entirely of the Hthian levies, William had ced the few Order footmen under his directmand in the middle of the army. Their superioritypared to themon conscripts along with Williams leadership had so far held the ounders at bay and inflicted equal casualties upon the red-robed Anausa.


    Yet ncing north and south, Leonard, the marshal of Hthiod, was met with same vision. Both the nks were being pressed back. The soldiers of poorest quality were fighting there, and their inferiority in training and equipment was showing. Furthermore, both nks were bereft of their leaders; Leonard had moved to the centre, and Stephen was not to be found. The marshals observations were disturbed as his own men were pushed back and an enemy came charging at him, recognising a valuable target. Leonard avoided the blow and thrust his own longsword into the ounders stomach. As the marshal withdrew his weapon, a spray of blood followed and vanished again. The ounders robe was already crimson in colour; as for the marshal, both his face as well as the white star on his surcoat had been sttered red hours ago.


    Stepping back, Leonard gazed north again. He saw the knights regrouping, supported by the squires and sergeants; hope flickered across his face as he measured the distance to the Zhayedan, calcting what impact could be delivered by a proper cavalry charge. If the ounder horsemen could be forced back and sent into retreat, the Order knights would have a chance to bear down on the left nk and crush the ounder infantry.


    Milord! yelled a soldier, grabbing Leonard by the arm and turning him around. Gazing southwards, hope shattered and left Leonard with a devastated look on his face. The right nk was fleeing. The Hthian conscripts, having been battered by arrows and the Anausa, were running for their lives. Furthermore, their nkmander was too far away to call them to order and have any hope of restoring the line. ncing north again, the conclusion of the battle was beginning to be apparent. Soon, the left nk would yield as well. The centre might hold a while longer, but it would be enveloped from both sides and they would be cut down to a man. It became clear that the battle of Sikyon was reaching its end.


    Lowering his sword in acknowledgement of the inevitable, Leonard looked around until he saw the bannerman for the centrepanies. Running towards him, the marshal grabbed his shoulder. Sound the retreat, he yelled into the mans ear. Full retreat, do you hear? Full retreat! The bannerman stood frozen, and Leonard shook him by the shoulder and repeated the order. Finally, the soldier fumbled until his fingers grasped the horn by his side; he ced it against his mouth and gave three blows. Holding a moments pause, he repeated the sound. Confusion was evident among the Mearcian army as the other bannermen repeated the signal and themon soldiers became aware of what this meant. Upon the nks, the remaining foot soldiers broke away and ran west. In the middle of the battle lines, the infantry began a more orderly withdrawal, protecting themselves as best they could, yet it was still a full retreat acknowledging defeat.


    ~~~~


    North of where the infantries shed, William heard the signal. The bannerman by his side moved his hand towards his horn, intending to repeat the signal. Hold, Williammanded him. Dy the order.


    But milord, argued the sergeant, the rest of the army is in retreat. We must as well, surely!


    If we do, William said, their cavalry will have free rein to pursue us. They will ughter our infantry like cattle, riding them down. We have to engage them.


    But milord, the sergeant tried to object before hismander cut him off.


    Sound the charge, William said and repeated himself with a yell. Fight while you can! Sound the charge! Moving his horse to stand in line with the others and guiding it into a slow trot, William breathed thest verse of the Knights Oath softly. My sword fears not death. My shield defends the weak. My armour protects the realm. My oath is my honour. I am a Knight of Adal. With those words, the remaining few hundred knights and their followers made ast charge towards the enemy.

 Chapter 25: The Last Calm

    Chapter 25: The Last Calm


    The Last Calm


    Tothmor


    While the battle raged on the ins many miles from the city, Tothmor was experiencing a day like any other. It would take days before any message could be brought to tell them that a battle had been fought, not to mention its oue. Another story was instead sweeping Tothmor since it only had to travel from the pce to the rest of the city circles. In every household and every tavern was shared the story of a scandal involving the yellow-robed priesthood and members of Hthiods nobility. The names in the story varied as did at times the colour of the clergy. All agreed, though, that it was a tale of the best kind. Sordid priests and lurid noblemen made for good viins among the tavern tables of the lower districts; ording to rumour, the story had a hero as well, a dashing young swordsman to save the queen and a hero to themon people.


    The final piece of the rumour, only shared once the full story had otherwise been told, was the identity of this swordsman. Some whispered the name solemnly, some with disbelief. That this hero should turn out to be none other than Leander, bastard son of thete king and generally considered a useless drunk, was a fact that half the city found enchanting and the other half foundughable.


    In one of Tothmors establishments, Troy finished performing the first verses of his new bad, The Swordsman and the Queen. It was received with great cheer, perhaps more due to the poprity of the theme than the skill of the verse maker, especially considering Troy had only finished the first few strophes so far. Bowing and taking his leave of the stage, Troy returned to his seat by a small table where a hooded person sat waiting for him. What do you think? asked the bard.


    Utterly ridiculous, Leander snorted from inside the unwieldy hood that disguised his identity. Our duel could most certainly not rival the battles of the Great War. I did not move with Elven grace, nor did my opponent have the grim perseverance of a Dwarf.


    You are the person mostcking in taste I have ever met, Troy said insulted and drank from his tankard of ale. Songs embellish, people expect and appreciate it.


    Clearly they have never been the subject of said songs, Leander said derisively.


    Neither will you be if you keep this attitude, Troy shot back. To this, Leander shrugged and drank. I imagine things have changed in the pce for you? Troy asked.


    People give me wider berth, I suppose. They seem unsure what to think of me, so they keep their distance. It is quite pleasant, Leander smiled.


    What about the queen? You saved her life, Troy pointed out.


    Well, I think to be precise, I did not, Leander admitted hesitantly. But she does seem to see me in a different light. So something good came of it.


    If nothing else, at least your intentions towards her became clear. Even if you practically had to kill yourself to do it, Troy said with a sting in his voice.


    I did not cherish the thought, Leander said, raising his hands in exasperation. I was at my wits end. I had to do something, and I could not think of anything else.


    Even so, Troy retorted, next time you n on dying, I would appreciate a word of warning. Perhaps some kind of farewell gesture.


    I gave you a bag of silver, Leander protested.


    Coin is a poor substitute for a friend, Troy said quietly.


    That is fair, Leander nodded, his own tone of voice dropping. I am sorry for the way I acted. Next time I n on dying, you will receive a days notice in writing, the young nobleman added with a wry expression, and the bard could not help but give a vague smile. Now I have somewhere else I must be. Have a drink on me, Leander told his friend, dropping a small stack of coins on the table before he left the tavern.


    Moving up the circles of the city, Leander reached the second district. He found an old house that looked all but abandoned. Entering, Leander walked cautiously through its dusty halls. My lord Hubert? he called out.


    Who is there? came a voice in answer, soon followed by its owner peering over a balcony.


    I was your student once, Leander told him as he walked a few steps forward. When I was younger. My name is


    Leander, Hubert replied, walking down the staircase from the upper floor. I would recognise thatzy posture anywhere. Have youe to finish your training?


    Not quite, Leander could not help butugh a little, but his demeanour turned solemn again swiftly. Ie to bring you ill tidings, I fear. Concerning your son.


    He has been arrested for treason, yes, I am aware, the count said tly as he reached the lower floor, looking away from Leander and out into the empty hall.


    You knew already? Leander said questioningly.


    I did, the old man replied, sitting down on one of the lowest steps of the stairway. Many of the pce guards were in the Kings des with me. They visit me from time to time. They told me what happened in the orchards.


    I am sorry, Leander said with hesitation. I always had great respect for you, Lord Hubert, and I did not wish to be involved in something causing you grief.


    Did you convince my son to be a traitor? Hubert asked, turning his head to look directly at Leander.


    I did not, my lord, Leander managed to stutter.


    Then I hold no me towards you, Hubert spoke with a casual voice. But I appreciate that you would take the time to visit an old man.


    I admired you so when I was a child, Leander admitted. My father spoke so highly of you, your skill with a de, and your loyalty towards him.


    He was a good man, your father, Hubert nodded. A good king. Not without faults, but fewer than many other men of power that I have known.


    Will you tell me about him? Leander asked. This made the count turn and send his youngpanion a scrutinising look once more.


    As you wish. But tell me something first. Our young queen, your fathers sessor, is she worth fighting for? If my Hugh had skewered you, would she have been worth dying for?


    Yes, Leander said without hesitation. I believe so, he added more slowly.


    Then you know the most valuable lesson I could have taught you, Hubert told the youth, cing one hand on his shoulder. You would have made a fine Kings de. Done your father proud. You have done me proud, the count added.


    I am d to hear it, Leander said with a faint smile. Will you tell me more of my father?


    Very well, Hubert agreed. But afterwards we are going to the gymnasion, where you will practice the proper stance until I am satisfied, the count threatened.


    Understood, Leanderughed.


    ~~~~


    While Leander had gone upwards into the city, Troy had gone downwards, finding his way to the fifth district and Guys tavern. Here, he exchanged ying a few verses of his new bad for an evening meal. He was busy simultaneously eating stew and crafting the next verse, in which the heroic swordsman finally triumphs over the dastardly viin, when another person threw himself down into an empty seat next to the bard.


    You? asked Troy. What was it, Geoffrey?


    Indeed, Godfrey confirmed. I am ttered you remember, he added, though it sounded mocking.


    What do you want? Troy said with a scowl.


    You seem hostile, Godfrey remarked.


    You tricked me. You got me to say all sorts of things to you, Troy continued, his scowl deepening.


    You seemed eager enough to talk on your own, and you were fed for your trouble. By that very man, Godfrey said, nodding towards Guy. I told you to ask him about me if you doubted my intentions. Did you?


    No, Troy admitted. I sort of forgot.


    Troy, Godfrey said leaning forward with all hints of mirth gone from his voice. Either you trust me or you do not. But you care about your friend Leander, am I correct? If so, I suggest you cease your doubts and tell me what I wish to know.


    How is Leander involved in any of this?


    Exactly what I want to know, Godfrey replied. Have you ever observed your friend meeting with a priest? Specifically those in white robes.


    I dont think Leander even knows how a temple looks from the inside, Troy snorted. Godfreys grave expression made the bard be earnest as well. No. Ive never seen Leander talk to anybody in robes.


    What about his mother?


    Lady Diane? Troy spoke.


    Yes, her. A beautiful woman with bright curls, lots of jewellery, Godfrey said in description.


    Sounds right. But I dont really meet her, Troy shrugged. I wouldnt know what she does. Howe?


    Because I have observed her more than once going into the temple of Hamaring. And it is rare that ady of the court should show interest in the god of craftsmen, Godfrey contemted.


    True, they seem more inclined towards Austre, or maybe Idisea depending on how old they are getting, Troymented. But I dont see how any of this matters?


    There is a presence in this city, Godfrey exined. Foreign, hostile. One that is not aligned with any of the gods of Adalmearc. Mad prophets in the streets of the slum, hooded followers hiding and spreading throughout the districts. A cult with tendrils stretching into the priesthoods and possibly the court.


    That sounds unpleasant, Troy shuddered. But what does it all mean?


    I do not know. I see all the pieces, but I cannot put them together to form an image. I only know that somehow your friend seems to be at the centre, wittingly or not.


    What do we do? asked Troy with sudden urgency. I mean, will they hurt him? How do we help him?


    We do nothing for now, Godfrey impressed on the bard. If Leander is told of this and changes his behaviour, the consequences could be ill. Keep your eyes open, watch the whiterobes, but nothing more. Do you understand?


    Troys only response was nodding quickly while biting his lip.


    ~~~~


    Far from the taverns of the lower city, Leander was sitting upon the t roof of the pce. His legs were dangling over the edge, and in his hands, he had a knife and an apple, which he was carving into pieces. Except for the Order tower to his left, he had a near unobstructed view of the city as it descended in semicircles below him; it resembled a gigantic theatre carved into the side of the mountain intended to hold an audience of tens of thousands. By his side, also with legs dangling over the edge of the roof, sat the queen of Hthiod.


    Carving out a piece of the apple, Leander offered it to Theodora. Thank you, she said and epted it, putting it in her mouth while he cut a piece for himself. Do you oftene here?


    I have not done so in many years, Leander replied. I did as a small child when the world felt overwhelming. Enjoying the tranquillity.


    You never struck me as a man wont to feel overwhelmed, Theodora said light-heartedly.


    I was not always this shining example of carefree attitudes, Leander jested. Things were different when my father was alive. When I was four, he sent me to begin training under Count Esmarch.


    Four? Theodora asked, to which Leander nodded.


    Yes. Only until I was nine, though. Then my father died, the count was dismissed, and my training ended.


    That exins certain deficiencies in your swordsmanship, Theodora teased.


    It does, Leander smiled. It was, as said, at times overwhelming until my fathers passing when all tutge was abandoned. Then I was left to my own devices, bing the paragon of virtue you see before you.


    It is funny, I do remember those days. When we were children and still yed. But I never noticed such.


    You were only four years old yourself when everything changed, Leander pointed out. How could you have noticed?


    I suppose not, Theodora merely remarked.


    I do not mean toin, Leander abruptly continued. Although strict, the count treated me with respect and showed a fathers concern towards me. Which I have never repaid him, he added a tad remorseful.


    Perhaps you do not owe him anything, Theodora said, bing tight-lipped. We saw how his son turned out.


    I would not me poor Lord Hubert for that, Leander said carefully. If my opinion matters anything to you, do not hold the count responsible. Lord Hubert served my father with the utmost loyalty, and he was shown only dishonour as they stripped him of his position. The blow to his pride might have caused him to fail in his sons upbringing, but the fault does not lie in the counts loyalty.


    It does, Theodora nodded slightly. Your opinion does matter, I mean.


    Good, Leander said with a vague smile. He gave her another piece of the apple.


    Do you ever miss your father? Theodora asked with a faint voice.


    I cannot really say that I do, Leander admitted. I saw him so rarely. In public, I was always hidden away. In private, he had many affairs to tend to, a realm to rule. I do not doubt his affection towards me, but it is difficult to miss something that was never present.


    I miss my father, Theodora confessed. Even though I have not seen him more often than you saw yours.


    I have had many years toe to terms with this, Leander told her. Seeing your father so briefly, having him leave so soon again, it must not be easy.


    It was simr with yours, was it not? He rode out and never returned, I recall, said the queen.


    Indeed, the youth nodded. A small incursion of ounders in the northeast. He took the Kings des with him to investigate, and they were ambushed. Although they fought their way out, my father took a wound. Lasted for days until it finally killed him.


    How ghastly, Theodora shivered. But one must admire his courage going in person. Not merely sending others on his behalf.


    Courageous, true, certainly befitting a descendant of Erhard, Leander admitted, but perhaps not wise. The worst thing a king can do is die before his time, especially when his only son is born under such circumstances as mine, Leander finished with a mirthless smile.


    Leander, Theodora gathered the courage to ask, are you envious of me? That your father adopted me.


    Oh, gods, no, Leander hurried to say. At least there the old  I mean, Lady Irene made a good choice. I was never fit for the burdens of rule.


    I do not think I am either, Theodora confided in him. I have been queen for twelve years, but I cannot recall making a decision beyond what clothes to wear each morning.


    That is typically the hardest decision I make every day as well, Leander smiled and was rewarded by Theodora making the same expression. He split the remaining part of the apple and gave her half. Give it time, he continued with an earnest voice. There will be plenty of difficult decisions ahead of you.


    Such as marriage, Theodora shuddered. Everybody has their own designs for me that I must navigate. I must choose somebody who can strengthen my position, but how can I trust any person of influence, knowing their chief interest will be marrying me precisely for my position and what it gives them in turn?


    I do not envy you there, Leander said, chewing on his apple piece.


    You are more fortunate, Theodora imed. Nobody will care whom you are joined with in matrimony.


    On the contrary, I think it would be disastrous if I ever married, Leander replied.


    How so? Theodora asked with a frown.


    I am a bastard, Leander said casually. I have no title, no ie, and a dubious reputation at that, dishonourable even. The only thing I offer is my ancestry. Anybody willing to give me their daughter would do so because my children might inherit my im. They would want to use any children I have against you, Leander borated. No, my dear cousin, I will neither marry nor have children. It will only embroil me in schemes, and I have had enough of those for a lifetime.


    It brings me somefort knowing despite our differences in status, your life is as miserable as mine, Theodora said with a serious voice, and Leander could not help butugh. He threw the remains of the apple over the edge of the roof, and they watched its arc across the sky before falling down into the gardens below. Letting his empty hand fall down to the side, Leander felt Theodoras hand take hold of it as she leaned her head on his shoulder; in this manner they watched the slow death of the day while the sun set in the west.


    ~~~~


    Withst bell ringing, Leander went to his room. As he entered it, he registered with an indifferent expression the other person present. Hallo, Mother, he said, removing his sword belt.


    You have been purposely avoiding me, Diane said in usation.


    Not at all, Mother, it happens naturally, Leander smiled, draping the belt across his dusty armour rack.


    What were you thinking? she demanded to know.


    I thought I would give green a chance, but I suppose it is not my colour, he replied, examining his newly tailored, green doublet.


    So amusing, Diane sneered. You could have died! she all but yelled. That Esmarch boy would have cut you in pieces!


    Evidently he did not, Leander remarked, sounding carefree. Would that be all?


    Oh do not y coy, his mother said, her voice growing lower but more menacing. You will not fight on the battlefield, but you are ready to throw your life away with such nonchnce?


    I thought you were upset that I did not ride to battle, Leander said casually, avoiding eye contact. Are you now upset that I did fight?


    I wanted you to fight on the battlefield surrounded by others, keeping back, staying alive, not charging the enemy on your own! Diane said loudly before lowering her voice. How could you have put yourself in such senseless danger!


    I am sorry if I endangered your ns for me, Mother, Leander said with a touch of acid in his voice. I will be more considerate in the future.


    Do not dare presume you know my thoughts, Diane burst out. Until you have a child of your own, do not dare presume you could understand a mothers pain. To this Leander had no reply, and she was eager to continue. You are my only child, Leander. You are all I have left of your father, all I have left in this ce. If you were hurt, my world would end. Do you understand?


    Yes, Mother. I am sorry, Leander mumbled.


    With that in mind, I ask you again. What were you thinking? Diane said exasperated. Fighting with Esmarchs son?


    I had a little to drink. Leander gave a shrug. It seemed like a good idea at the time.


    You, Diane shook her head, you, the royal heir to Hthiod. Five hundred years your ancestors have been kings, and this is how you honour them?


    I am quite sure most of them greatly enjoyed getting drunk as well, Leander argued dryly.


    The bluebell of Hthiod is not just the symbol of the realm, it is your house symbol, Diane continued without letting him interrupt her. It is a reminder of how your ancestor Erhard defeated the ounders and won the kingship! As you should be doing this very moment, she insisted.


    Is that what vexes you, mother dear? That the one time I picked up a sword, I did not do so to steal the crown but to protect its rightful owner?


    You are the rightful heir, Diane interjected. You are thest male descendant of Erhard, the only one deserving of the crown that he won.


    Theodora is his descendant too, Leander reminded her with a mutter.


    Theodora, Diane said with disdain. A girl whose im furthermore is matrilineal. Erhards sister did not save this realm from the ounders, he did! And his son inherited his crown, not his daughter.


    Mother, did it ever ur to you that maybe Theodora is more suited to be a ruler than me? Leander asked, and his voice was slightly strained.


    I refuse to believe so, Diane uttered. She is a silly girl, dancing on Irenes strings. But at least your misced show of gantry has earned you the courts admiration.


    If the pompous peacocks are happy, I have reached my goal, Leander smiled sardonically. Then he began unbuttoning his doublet. If you do not mind, Mother, I wish to rest.


    At least your sleeping habits are improving, Diane scoffed. What was your goal? I mean that sincerely. What on earth did you hope to aplish by throwing yourself onto that Esmarch boys sword?


    Who said I was thinking at all, Leander remarked with the same, joyless smile.


    I know quite well you were not thinking, Diane said dismissively. No, what were you hoping for, my son? What did you think would happen as you rushed to save that girl by throwing your life away?


    Nothing, Leander muttered. If you would take your leave, please.


    Oh, Leander, Diane eximed softly as she narrowed her eyes. What were you hoping for, she repeated. Although phrased as a question, her final sentence sounded rather like a conclusion.


    I am very tired, Mother, Leander told her, taking her by the arm and ushering her outside. Goodnight, he added and closed the door to his chamber. His mother stood, looking at the door for a moment longer with a dawning smile before she walked away.


    ~~~~


    After separating from her son, Diane moved through the corridors of the pce, passing through the eastern section of the pce where three of the shrines were located. As fate would have it, Irene came walking the same path from the opposite direction. I did not know you were so pious, Irene said to the other woman with an insincere smile. Or are you simply lost and ended up here by ident?


    I could say the same, Diane replied in a disaffected tone as she regarded the shorter and less attractive woman, which included the ten years of age difference in Dianes favour. I am surprised altars do not crack in twain when you enter a holy site.


    Mock all you want, Irene said dismissively. I was praying for my dearly departed husband as is the duty of any good wife. You see, regardless of how many years have passed, I will always be Everards queen.


    A shame that your face does not retain the same imperviousness to time, Diane responded with a sardonic smile of her own.


    I will not keep you, I am sure you are busy. There are, after all, still married men at court with whom you are not intimately acquainted, Irene said as a parting shot and walked briskly past her rival.


    If you get lonely, let me know and I will make introductions, Diane retorted and sauntered away.


    Once Irene had left the hallway, Dianes eyes darted back and forth a few more times; then she entered the shrine for Hamaring. At first nce, it appeared empty before a shape in a white robe stepped forward from an alcove. You frightened me, Diane gasped, calming down as she recognised Brother Renard.


    Just keeping out of sight, the sinewy man said.


    You again? Where is the high priest? Diane asked angrily. I thought I was clear that I deal with him, not his underlings.


    The high priest, Renard said calmly, does not wish to attract attention by frequent visits to the pce. I am more inconspicuous and may serve perfectly on his behalf.


    Of course you would say that, Diane snarled. You can tell your master to be patient. I will bring Leander to him when I feel he is ready.


    My master is eager to know when that may be? We have already waited weeks. The army has left the city, there is no better time.


    My son needs to be properly  coaxed, Diane said, choosing her words with care. He cannot simply be thrust into things. I have already made great strides, she imed. He is taking part in court life, and the affair with the geolrobes proves him to be decisive and with leadership qualities.


    From what I hear, your son practically stumbled into this affair as you name it. It was sheer luck thatnded him the des of the people rather than a de to the stomach, which is not a very reassuring interpretation of events, Renard remarked dryly.


    Interpret it differently, Diane sneered. Leander is almost ready to assume his role. I will bring him to your master when I deem he is ready, not before.


    As long as you deem him ready soon, Renard said with a nk expression. There are others sympathetic to our cause. If we must, we will look elsewhere than to your son. Our ns will not be dyed forever on your behalf.


    I do not care for your threats, Diane replied.


    Simple statement of facts, Renard replied casually. You should leave before anybody notices your presence and wonders about it.


    Nobody suspects a thing, Diane said disdainfully. You are the one sneaking into the pce. Have you taken precautions? There are several geolrobes in the dungeons right now who thought they had outwitted Irene, that old hag.


    No need for concern, Renard dismissed her fears. They believe to have a spy in our midst, but he only tells them what we desire for them to know. They arepletely in the dark.


    If so, there is no need to hurry, is there? Diane smiled and left the shrine. The white-robed priest waited a brief while, ncing repeatedly towards the altar of the statue but avoiding looking at it directly before he left the consecrated room as well.

 Chapter 26: City of Divines

    Chapter 26: City of Divines


    City of Divines


    Tothmor


    A few days passed until the story of The Swordsman and the Queen was reced by more dire tidings. The first soldiers from the Mearcian army arrived, sent ahead to bring word of the battle and their defeat. Within an hour, the news spread across the entire city. As the soldiers were brought to the first district to tell their tale, they did not have to go inside the pce; the members of court were so anxious to hear the news that they came half-running out of the pce to greet the exhausted soldiers. Thus in the courtyard between the district wall and the pce building, the queen and her retinue received the messengers and bade them speak.


    The ounders won the field, one of the soldiers panted as they knelt before their queen. There were more of them, and their horsemen stopped our knights. In the end, our footmen fled.


    How is this possible? demanded one courtier to know. How could you be defeated by this rabble, these barbarians?


    With respect, another soldier said after regaining his breath, their arrows and swords were still sharp. If you doubt that, they will be here soon enough.


    How severe were our losses? asked Irene, cutting through the mour of the court surrounding the arrived soldiers.


    Heavy, but not catastrophic, said the first soldier. Though we do not know what happened to the knights.


    How do you mean, you do not know? Irene asked sharply.


    Last we saw, they were fighting to hold back the ounders and cover our retreat. They did not join up with us afterwards, so we presume they have fled elsewhere  or they are dead. This response caused a new wave of wailing throughout the courtiers at the thought of five hundred knights in.


    Ourmanders? Irene continued her questioning. Are they all dead?


    Not all, came the reply. It was Sir Leonard who ordered the retreat once the battle was lost, saved our remaining men. The others are presumed dead.


    What of Lord Stephen? asked Theodora, her voice slightly shaken. The march warden of the South. Was he not in the retreat?


    He was not, one of the soldiers said with regret in his voice. The nk under hismand fell to the ounders shortly before our retreat. I am sorry, Your Majesty, but it seems he was lost on the field.


    Beatrice, the queens mother, had been standing by her daughters side. Upon hearing such news of her husband, her face became white as ash and she turned, walking into the pce with hasty steps. Noticing her mothers departure, Theodora wavered but found herself steadied by Irenes hand on her shoulder.


    Be strong, she whispered to the young queen. The court is watching and weighing your reaction. You must show strength, Irene reiterated. Looking around, Theodora could see her courtiers gazing at her, most notably the counts of Lykia and Larisa, who had not fought in the battle. The queenposed herself, cleared her throat, and thanked the soldiers for bringing word of the battle to the city.


    Poor Beatrice, Diane said, watching thedy exit from the courtyard. She was always a bit sensitive. Not meant for the harshness that life can offer.


    Losing her husband, I think she has a right to be sensitive, Leander mumbled.


    No offence was intended, Diane said. When did you be so attentive to others?


    She always treated me well, Leander replied. I am going inside to speak with her.


    Diane watched her son walk into the pce. As she turned her head back towards the crowd, her eyes were caught by movement to her other side. A man in a white robe moved up next to her; although his hood covered most of his face, he was able to make eye contact with Diane.


    Are you mad? People could be watching, she whispered.


    Then act natural, came the reply from Renard. My master has heard the news as well. Soon the remainder of the army returns. We cannot wait any longer.


    Fine, Diane said quietly without looking at the priest. I will bring Leanderter today. Now leave, she added with a hiss. Without acknowledgment or a nce in her direction, the white-robed priest left, disappearing into the crowd of courtiers and servants.


    ~~~~


    The messengers bringing news from the marshal of their defeat had arrived after noon, leaving the court in turmoil, and chaos reigned in the ensuing hours. Therefore, it was almost evening when Diane sought out her son in his private chamber. She found him in thest moments of changing clothes before he took out a cloak.


    Are you on your way out? Diane asked.


    I promised a friend to meet him in one of the lower circles this evening, Leander exined, sping the cloak around him.


    That bard, no doubt, Diane spected, unable to hide her disdain entirely.


    You need not make your disapproval known, Leander smiled sardonically, I am well aware of it.


    I did note to quarrel, Diane said quickly. Would you apany your mother to prayer? Afterwards I will not stand in the way of your ns. It need not take long.


    If you insist, Leander replied, sounding a little bewildered.


    Good, thank you for pleasing your dear mother, Diane eximed. We just need to walk by my chambers, I need a cloak as well. There is a bit of a chill in the evening wind.


    The shrines do not even have windows, Leander said questioning.


    We are not going to a shrine, Diane said, smiling as she took her sons arm and led him out of his chamber. I had one of the temples in mind.


    They left the pce and walked down the city circles to the third district containing Tothmors six temples. The city was still humming from the news of a disastrous defeat, and the streets were crowded, especially in the third circle with many people turning towards the gods.


    You need not look dissatisfied, Diane reproached Leander. This is not a long dy.


    I am not dissatisfied, Leander imed, just not understanding. I do not recall ever seeing you go to a temple before.


    I am getting older. I have no husband and only a son that rarely spends time with me. It is not strange that a woman should turn to faith, Diane said in a coquettish voice, which despite his misgivings made Leander smile.


    As you wish, Mother. Which temple are we visiting?


    Hamaring, Diane said in a brief manner.


    The Lord of the Mountain? I thought your devotion was mostly to the Lady of the Forest.


    It is true that I am more inclined towards Austres faith, Diane admitted, but Hamaring has his appeals. With those words, they turned inside the temple belonging to the white-robed priests.


    They walked through the entrance and into the altar room of the temple. In that respect, this particr temple differed very little from others; the only key difference was the statue by the altar, which depicted a man in bearskin holding a great hammer. First thedy and then her son approached the altar, making obeisance to it and showing the deity respect. When it was done, they left through one of the doors and let the next supplicants move forward.


    I thought you wanted toe here to make an offering, Leander began speaking, but you left nothing at the altar.


    Come this way, Diane said, sidestepping the implied question.


    She led her son through some of the temple corridors deeper into the smallplex. This was where the warrior monks of Hamaring slept and worked. Without hesitation or knocking, Diane opened the door and walked through, followed more cautiously by Leander.


    Inside the room sat Bernard, the leader of the white-robed priests in Tothmor. By his side stood his aide, Renard. Finally, the high priest grumbled. He rose and revealed himself as much a bear of a man as the statues of the god he served. In contrast, the wily Renard next to him had the appearance of a fox.


    Mother, Leander said hesitantly, what is going on?


    My dear son, the high priest is here to make you an offer, Diane said smiling. Leander looked at Brother Bernard with raised eyebrows.


    It is quite simple, the big priest said. I will make you king.


    Leander stood with open mouth as he processed this. What? he finally managed to say.


    As said, quite simple. There are many who would support you, Lord Leander. A weakling woman sits upon the throne of Hthiod while the son and true heir of ourte king has been thrust aside, Bernard exined. We will correct this situation and ce you upon the throne.


    I see that priests of all colours are plotting treason now, Leander mumbled. Though even the geolrobes did not dare go this far.


    Those mewling fools, Bernard spat. With their petty intrigues. The strong takes what is his right, and so should you! You are King Everards son, now seed him!


    Exactly how? A revolt is not simply done. They require armies, not to mention they tend to precipitate civil wars. And we are already at war, Leander argued.


    Precisely, Bernard retorted. A woman cannot lead us in war. This city is doomed if dependent upon the usurper Theodora.


    You alone can save the city, the realm, your fathers realm, Diane urged her son.


    You have not answered my question as to how, Leander pointed out.


    There will be no civil war. We havepatriots among the guards. Tomorrow morning at dawn, twenty of our brothers in the cloth will be allowed through the gates into the pce, the high priest borated. Along with our allies in the guard, we will take control of the pce and the gates for the upper circles. Nearly all soldiers remaining in the city are in the lower circles already. We will depose the usurper queen and crown you king.


    You are certain you can take the pce? Leander asked in a neutral voice.


    We have enough swayed to our cause, Bernard smiled. Even some of the courtiers.


    Who? Leander asked sharply. The counts?


    You do not need to know their names until after it is aplished, Renard quickly said before the high priest could answer.


    You truly believe this n is feasible? Leander said after a brief pause.


    The queen will be in our hands as will the court and all remaining noblemen in the second district. They will bow before you or lose their heads, Bernard said satisfied. Already many in the city are singing your praises. They will wee a strong king who can protect them from the ounders, like your father did.


    And your payment? For I presume you do not offer me a crown free of charge, Leander said with a sardonic smile.


    It would be my honour to serve as court seer to Your Majesty, Bernard offered with a short inclination of his head.


    Anything you could ever desire, Leander, will be yours, Diane added in a low voice. All would bow to you. Any woman you could desire would fall at your feet.


    Theodora, Leander breathed. She is my cousin.


    You will decide her fate, Diane smiled. The dungeons or anywhere else you might have in mind. As king, whatever you wish will be done.


    She will not be harmed? Leander questioned.


    As said, it is up to you, my son, Diane assured him.


    This is not an easy decision to make on the spur, the youth muttered.


    It must be now, Bernard said sharply. We will not wait any further.


    Leander took a deep breath. Very well. I will do it, he finally said.


    Good, the high priest nodded while Diane gave a relieved smile. To be honest, I had my doubts. I am d to see not only King Everards blood but also his courage was passed on to you.


    Tomorrow at dawn, you said? Leander asked, which the others in the room confirmed. I will leave now rather than linger. I am expected elsewhere in the city.


    Are you really going to the lower circles? Should you not return to the pce with me? asked Diane.


    I should stick to my routine, Leander countered. It might arouse suspicion if I suddenly changed my habits, and we do not want to invite scrutiny.


    His lordship may have a point, Renard conceded.


    Best that I stay away from court until the appointed hour and the deed is done. I have no desire to take unnecessary risks, Leander continued.


    As you say, the high priest granted.


    Brother Bernard, can some of your temple guards escort my mother back to the pce? Leander asked.


    Of course, Bernard growled.


    My thanks. Leander gave a small bow and left.


    He reallymitted to it, Bernard said with a growing sense of realisation in his voice; there was still a lingering frown on his forehead. I had my doubts until the end.


    My son is no fool, Diane remarked, even if he portends to be. Who could refuse kingship when offered on a tter?


    Not your son, it would seem, said Renard. I will find a guard to escort thedy, he added and left the room as well.


    The schedule is very strict, however, Dianeined. Tomorrow already?


    With the army defeated, they will be retreating here, Bernard exined. It had to be now, or it would be toote. Besides, aid from Korndale is on its way. Once the siege is lifted, you want your son recognised as the man who defended the city, would you not?


    I suppose, Diane agreed. What would you have done if my son had declined?


    Restrained him here and found another candidate. We would have had to dy, perhaps, but if it could not be any other way, Bernard spoke with a shrug. There are many who are unsatisfied with a female ruler, Lady Diane, many who will apud our actions when we supnt the queen with a king. Your son was the most obvious choice, Bernard admitted, but not the only. Finding a nobleman in Tothmor who would seek to be king is like searching for a bear that likes honey, the high priest smiled.


    Renard returned along with one of the temples warriors, who was holding arge war hammer as his weapon. See thedy home, hemanded the guard.


    With her escort, Diane took her leave of the two white-robed priests. Follow the boy, Bernard muttered to Renard, who nodded. Just in case he might do anything to endanger our ns.


    ~~~~


    Back on the street, Leander left the third district and moved down into the city. He walked with hasty steps, asionally bumping into other people or tripping. Finally, he reached his destination in the fourth district, which was a seedy tavern. He pushed the door open and all but stumbled inside. People gave a few looks but quickly resumed their discussion about the war. Leanders eyes darted in every direction until he recognised a feathered, red cap. Troy, he said, pushing his way over to his friend. The bard sat with a cup of wine in front of him, which Leander grabbed and emptied.


    Steady on, man, Troy frowned.


    I have to talk to you, Leander said quietly. About a serious matter. He nced around until he found an empty chair and grabbed it, dragging it over to sit down.


    Last time we had a serious conversation, it ended with priests plotting and you about to die, Troy said suspiciously.


    It is one of those again, Leander admitted. The expression on his face told its own grave tale.


    Hel below, Troy swore. Whats wrong with these robes? Dont they have duties, like animals to sacrifice, prayers to pray?


    Troy, listen to me. It is worse this time.


    Sorry, Troy mumbled. Tell me.


    The whiterobes are nning a revolt. They will take control of the pce and depose Theodora.


    Salt my arse, Troy cursed, eyes widening. That is worse. Why are you telling me? Go, run, tell the queen!


    Because its me they want to put in her ce, Leander hissed as he leaned forward, and he nced around to see if anybody took note. All this treason is for my sake. I will be the king traitor!


    Salt me twice, Troy eximed. Wait, this takes a lot of nning. How long have you known this?


    I only just found out. They enlightened me of their ns, and I pretended to agree.


    Why didnt you spit in their faces? the bard asked, sounding offended at Leanders pretence.


    I was inside their temple, Leander said impatiently. I doubt they would have let me walk out alive. People nning treason are rarely magnanimous about who knows their ns, Troy.


    Why were you in their temple?


    I was  that is immaterial. Question is, what in Hels name am I going to do? Leander winced.


    Tell the queen? Youre not guilty, Troy suggested.


    The fact that this is all in my honour begs to differ, Leander retorted. Not to mention, they havepatriots among the pce guards. That is how they will get in and execute their n. If I try to warn anybody, chances are they will kill me too while they have their hammers out anyway.


    So who can you trust? asked Troy.


    Permit me to cut in, Godfrey interceded, and he swooped in with his own chair to sit down at their now rather crowded table.


    You? Wait, have you been listening in? asked Troy.


    I was following him, Godfrey said, nodding towards Leander. Well, I was following the whiterobe who has been following him since he left the temple of Hamaring.


    I have been followed? Leander blurted out, looking everywhere in the room for a white robe.


    He is not in here, Godfrey said. He is more cunning than that. We have a brief while to talk.


    Wait, return to former question. Have you been listening in? Troy repeated.


    Yes, Godfrey admitted. When I saw the priest following you, I figured I would keep close. I did not realise you would hand me the keys to the riddle so easily.


    This conversation is several steps ahead of me, Leanderined. Who in Hels unholy name are you, and any reason I should not be stabbing you for spying on me?


    First question, I am Geoffrey. Second question, because I am also armed with a sword and considerably better at wielding it than you.


    Oh, Leander said dismayed. It alwayses back to that.


    As for the question you did not ask but should have, I am here to help. Well, sort of. You are going to help me.


    Us? You? What, how? Troy asked confounded.


    While your revtions concerning the whiterobes were illuminating, Godfrey said, it goes deeper. There is a sinister force at y in this city, and it has infiltrated the priests of Hamaring.


    You told me of that, Troy said eagerly.


    Indeed, Godfrey nodded. This affair is more rotten than is apparent. There are ounders in the city or people in league with them. The dissatisfied, the disinherited, the downtrodden, they have been swayed towards a faith that is wholly hostile towards not just Hthiod, but all of Adalmearc.


    That does not sound ominous at all, Leander mumbled sarcastically.


    How does this fit in with the whiterobes? asked Troy.


    Think, Godfrey told them. The priests seize control of the city. Their own people man the gates, control who goes where. Once the siege begins, the gates are opened from the inside, and the ounders storm in. Godfreys twopanions sat in stunned silence, neither able to respond. Right now, the three of us are all that stand against this scenario happening, the vagrant told the bard and the prince.


    It would seem the city is doomed, Leander muttered, finding his wit again.


    When are the whiterobes making their move? asked Godfrey.


    Tomorrow, at dawn. They have some pretext for entering the pce, somebody letting them in. Then they and the guards siding with them will take control, Leander exined.


    That narrows our choices, but I have had worse, Godfrey said to himself. We have to take action now. There is still some daylight left beforest bell. Before the district gates are locked, he said, adding thest sentence when he saw looks of confusion.


    But what do we do? Leander asked.


    We must find soldiers who can fight the rebels, whose loyalty is not in question. Are there any knights in the city or Order soldiers from abroad?


    I do not think so, Leander shook his head. Their garrison in the inner circle is empty.


    A time like this we could have used the Kings des, Troy sighed. They were loyal, at least.


    Wait, Leander said. Who says we do not have them?


    They were disbanded, Troy said with a look towards Leander. Years ago.


    But they are still here, Leander argued. Lord Hubert. I doubt he has more interesting ns tonight than stopping a rebellion.


    But isnt he? Troys voice trailed off, but he pointed his fingers towards his head in a gesture meant to convey doubtful sanity.


    We just make sure we point his sword in the right direction, Leander shrugged.


    He is still only one man, Troy pointed out.


    What about the others? Godfrey asked. These Kings des, are there more of them? And can we trust them to be unwaveringly loyal?


    Loyalty pretty much summed up their reason for living, Leander said. Lord Hubert is the only one of them that I actually know, though.


    It will have to do, Godfrey dered, nodding slightly.


    Wait, Leander said, raising his hands in protestation. In your eagerness to be heroes, you forget that I will certainly be branded a viin. Cousin or not, the queen is not going to forgive me for seeking to overthrow her. Regardless of how guiltless I am, my head is ending on a spike. How about you talk to Lord Hubert, and I take a horse riding west before the outer gate closes?


    You think Lord Hubert will believe either of us? Troy asked, gesturing towards himself, the bard, and Godfrey, the vagabond.


    Is there anyone in this city you care for? Godfrey asked of Leander.


    The queen, Troy said quickly, answering for his friend. And her mother. And me, of course, the bard added smilingly, drawing an incredulous but angry stare from Leander.


    Listen to me, Godfrey said, leaning forward until his face was directly in front of Leanders, letting his eyes pierce into the young nobleman. Can you imagine what the ounders will do once this city is in their hands? What they will do to those you hold dear?


    I can, Leander mumbled. He turned his head slightly, as if trying to look away, but Godfreys gaze kept him locked.


    Consider that the price if you choose cowardice. Understood? Godfrey asked with a menacing voice.


    Understood, Leander croaked; as he was released from Godfreys gaze, he sank back into his seat.


    Good. Troy, keep him to it. Now leave, both of you. Find this Lord Hubert. Time is running out.


    What about you? Troy asked as they all stood up


    I will make sure you are not interfered with, Godfrey told them before separating himself from the bard and the bastard.


    ~~~~


    As Leander and Troy hurried towards the second circle and Count Esmarchs house, a white-robed shape spotted them as they left the tavern. The figure kept close to them while avoiding attention, sticking to the alleys and shaded corners of the streets. In their haste, neither Leander nor Troy looked back or noticed they were being followed; passing up the street, however, somebody else took note. As the white-d shape walked past an opening between two houses, a hand shot out and grabbed the neck of his robe; with extraordinary strength, that same hand pulled back and threw the wearer of the priestly garments several paces into the blind alley. The hood fell down to reveal Renards face. Before he could recover, the only exit from the alley was blocked.


    Well met, Brother Renard, Godfrey said with a predators smile.


    How dare you! Renard eximed as he struggled to stand up. I am a priest, my person is sacred!


    It should be clear to you, Godfrey interjected, that I know full well who you are. You may spare the pretence. Eyes darting to the side, Renard weighed his options. From the inner of his left sleeve, he drew a dagger. Godfreys response was pulling his cloak back and drawing his sword. You may spare that as well, Godfrey remarked, but Renards eyes were fixed on the de. Patterns of waves danced up and down the steel.


    Where did a vagrant like youe by such a sword? the priest asked in disbelief.


    I will ask the questions, Godfreymanded. I know there are ounders in this city. I have shadowed them, seen with whom they meet and shadowed those in turn. I have observed their prophets and madmen in the streets, I have seen their followers. And I have seen all of this converge around the temple of Hamaring.


    How clever you are, Renard sneered. Clearly you are more than meets the eye. But it is all in vain. Soon hees.


    The god in the mountain, Godfrey smiled mirthlessly. That is whom you await.


    Yes, hissed the other man. His march cannot be stopped. He will take thesends, and you will fall before him.


    Or the reverse, Godfrey retorted, retaining his smile. He raised his sword in a threatening gesture. Enough of that. You will tell me the names of all involved. Every man and woman that you have enticed to your faith, all of whom you have deceived.


    I am ready to die for my faith, Renard said with a sudden smile. Are you? Before the other man could react, Renard stabbed himself in the throat with his knife. Godfrey rushed forward but toote; the false priest fell to the ground and bled to death within moments. A red stain quickly spread across his white robes.


    Well, damn, Godfrey muttered. ncing around, he sheathed his sword and disappeared from the alley.

 Chapter 27: Secrets in the Night

    Chapter 27: Secrets in the Night


    Secrets in the Night


    Tothmor


    A look towards the west revealed the sun not far from the edge of the horizon. Once it setpletely, thest evening bell would toll and all the gates in the city would be locked, separating the five city districts until morning. Hastening to avoid this, Troy and Leander were all but running as they moved along the central road in Tothmor. Since it was uphill and neither man had an impressive constitution, they were soon panting and gasping for breath. As they reached the second circle, they both had to stop at the gatehouse and regain their wind while the guards watched in amusement.


    Let us go again, Leander said half-heartedly, and he set into motion once more.


    Bards were not meant for physical exertion, Troy attempted to speak, though little more than garbled sounds came out of his mouth as he followed after Leander.


    Finally, they reached their destination. The house belonging to the count of Esmarch looked as empty and uninviting as ever, but the pair entered without hesitation nheless. Lord Hubert? Leander called out. My lord, are you present?


    Leander? came the call from the bedroom upstairs.


    Lord Hubert, you are needed, came the reply.


    There was a brief sound of doors or furniture scuffling before the count appeared at the top of the staircase. Needed? he repeated, his voice acquiring a tone of eagerness.


    Yes. There is treason afoot in the city, Lord Hubert. We need your assistance to stop it.


    Finally, Hubert grinned. Come, boy, help me put on my armour! he said, turned around, and disappeared, leaving Leander and Troy to stumble exhausted up the stairs.


    Entering the counts bedroom, they found him opening an armoire. Inside hung upon a rack his armour, arms, and a surcoat with an embroidered emblem of the Kings des, a bluebell in front of two crossed swords. My lord, Leander said as Hubert began taking pieces of his gear out from the closet. There are traitors nning to attack the pce.


    Excellent, Hubert replied.


    It is the priests of Hamaring. At least twenty of them, and they have allies among the pce guard.


    Tremendous, the count remarked as he began equipping himself.


    We do not know whom we can trust, Troy inserted. Who are still loyal and who are traitors.


    Brilliant, came a muffled reply; putting on his mail shirt dampened the sound until the counts head appeared above the armour again. Do we have a battle n?


    Well, Leander said with an uncertain voice, they will take action tomorrow morning. So if we arrest the priests tonight, that should be the end of it.


    Understood, Hubert nodded, adding the surcoat to his attire and giving Leander his braces to strap onto his arms. Remove the head of the snake. What soldiers are at our disposal?


    Well, Troy said hesitantly, we have you. So far.


    So first order of business, mobilising the troops, Hubert responded with another nod. You, boy, he added with a throw of the head towards Troy, you seem like the sort to be acquainted with the less reputable parts of the city.


    Less reputable might be harsh, Troy tried to object.


    Are you familiar with the establishment known as The Pork and Pepper?


    Yes, its a public house in the third district, Troy answered.


    Good. Go there now. You will find several men there, hired by the owner towards keeping peace among the patrons. They are former des, Hubert exined. Tell them to gather any others that remain and meet me by the district gate. Do you understand?


    Pork and Pepper, former des, gather others and meet by the gate, Troy recited with a bards memory. Yes, I understand.


    Then go, the count said loudly. What are you idling for? Run!


    Right, Troy said dismayed. Run. He turned and did his best to run out of the room.


    Buckling his sword belt around his waist, the count turned towards Leander. We will go to the pce. Some of the guards are also former des. The rest may be of dubious fealty, but not them, Hubert dered.


    Right, good, Leander nodded. We should probably tell the queen before we start a battle in the city.


    The queen, yes, chain ofmand, Hubert agreed. Quite right. He grabbed his helmet and pressed it down over his head. No more dalliances. To the pce with all speed! the count eximed and moved with surprising agility.


    Are you well, my lord? Leander asked as he tried to catch up to him. You seem rather  gleeful.


    Am I well, dear boy? I am marvellous, Hubert grinned. I have been training for twelve years waiting for this! I could take on every priest in the Seven Realms if necessity demanded it, he imed.


    How about just the whiterobes for now, Leander uttered with a struggle as he breathed deeply and followed the count outside.


    ~~~~


    The sun was near setting when Leander and Hubert passed through the district gate into the pce. The guards cast a few strange looks but had no intentions of stopping the queens cousin, regardless of hispany. Once inside, they split up.


    Find the queen and bring her to the council chamber, Hubert instructed Leander. It has no windows, only one door easily defended. I will gather what men I can find and whom we can trust.


    Leander nodded in response and hurried onwards through theplex until he reached the royal wing. Stopping in front of Theodoras door, he knocked repeatedly. Finally, the door was opened from within by the queens handmaiden. Milord, she eximed sounding shocked upon seeing him. It is a veryte hour to be banging on the door, she reproached him.


    Theodora? Leander called out, trying to peer into the room.


    Leander? came the queens voice from inside the room, and she moved until he was within her sight. What on earth is the matter?


    Theodora, you have toe with me. There is something I must tell you.


    Hearing this, the young woman dismissed herdy-in-waiting who retreated into the chamber. Leander, what is wrong? Tell me, demanded the queen.


    Not here, he urged her. It is not safe. You have toe with me.


    Go where? Leander, this is my bedchamber in the deepest part of the pce.


    Please, Leander said, extending his hand. If you trust me, please,e with me, and I will exin.


    Theodora hesitated a moment. I trust you, she said and took hold of his hand.


    He led her through the empty corridors towards the council chamber. On asion they passed by a guard, and each time Leander almost flinched. Finally, as they reached the chamber, he pushed the heavy door open and ushered Theodora inside. An elongated table with numerous chairs around it was its only furniture.


    Leander, what are we doing here? she asked impatiently.


    The safest ce in the pce, Leander exined. We should not be overheard.


    Leander, you are acting in a frightening manner, Theodora said with an unsteady voice.


    Clearing his throat, Leander began to borate. Theodora, there are people plotting against you. They mean to strike first thing tomorrow.


    What? Who?


    The priests of Hamaring. The high priest and many others, their temple guards too, most likely. They will seize the upper circles, the pce included. They mean to depose you, Theodora.


    Oh gods, the queen said softly, falling down onto a chair. Again? Are all priests nothing more than fiends wearing robes?


    It would seem thus, Leander said softly. But we have time to stop them. They do not act until dawn.


    Before Leander could exin further, the count of Esmarch opened the door and stepped in. Behind him came a few more soldiers in pce livery, and out in the hallway they could spot a dozen more. Theodora leapt to her feet, instinctively shying away. It is fine, Leander said quickly. The count is here at my behest. He is here to help you.


    Help me? Theodora said questioningly.


    I and my brothers of the Kings des are yours tomand, Hubert eximed. He strode through the room and knelt before Theodora. We are sworn to protect the ruler of Hthiod.


    But you were disbanded, Theodora said doubtfully.


    Oaths cannot be disbanded, Your Majesty, Hubert responded. We do not waver in our loyalty. We will kill any man for you, we will die for you.


    But I have done nothing to deserve such loyalty, Theodora protested meekly.


    The count shook his head in reply to her protestation. We are defenders of the realm, Your Majesty. The realm is you. Not these rebels and brigands at our door.


    I hardly know you, Theodora said, confusion guing her voice. I only know your son, and trusting him was a mistake, she continued, turning around. And you are telling me the pce guards, my own guards are traitors as well? How can I trust anybody?


    Hubert rose from where he had knelt and spoke again. Your Majesty, I failed in my duty many years ago. No words will dispel the doubt from your mind. I can only prove myself through actions. I ask of you that you allow me to form the Queens des. Let us fight for you. Only thus can we prove our words are true.


    Theodora turned back and her eyes switched between looking at Hubert and Leander. Perhaps I should speak with Aunt Irene, she said hesitantly. She always knows what is best.


    No, Leander said firmly. I can already tell you that she will not trust me or Lord Hubert. Her decision will be to have us thrown out, he continued. But this is your decision, Theodora, you are the queen. Either you trust in Lord Hubert and grant him leave to do what must be done. Or else you tell us all to be gone, and you may return to your bedchamber and sleep.


    Theodoras eyes examined Leander and Huberts faces once more. Finally, she took her si ring from her finger, the sign of royal authority in Hthiod. She extended her hand allowed the ring to fall into Huberts palm. This will prove that you act upon my behalf. Go and arrest all those suspected of treason. Avoid bloodshed if possible.


    I shall carry out yourmand to the best of my abilities, Hubert said with a bow. I will leave your cousin for your protection. And two des, he added after ncing at Leander.


    Probably best, Leander mumbled.


    The count gave a short bow again and left, followed by all of his men except two, who took position outside the council chamber. Theodora sat down once again, but she could not keep her hands calm, wringing them, folding them, pressing them against each other.


    It will be fine, Leander said quietly, sitting down.


    I have never been in this room before, Theodora remarked, ncing around.


    I recall my father being in here from time to time, Leander said, frowning as he tried to remember. But it has not seen use in Irenes time. She keeps council in her own chambers, he remarked dryly.


    Maybe I should tell her, Theodora contemted with concern in her voice. She should know.


    I am sure she will soon enough, Leander scoffed. She has a remarkable gift for knowing everything that goes on in this pce if not the whole city.


    Yet she did not know this, Theodora pointed out. I realise she has kept things from me before, but I cannot imagine she would have let the whiterobes get so close to carrying out their n.


    No, Leander admitted. I do not know how, but they must have fooled her. Irene does not take chances. She would not let ite to open battle in the city if she knew.


    How did you know? Theodora suddenly asked. How did you find out where Aunt Irene failed?


    That is a long story, Leander mumbled. It is a bit hard to exin.


    Before he could speak further, they heard the sound of footsteps down the corridor. The door to the chamber had not been closed, so from a distance they could recognise the short figure of a middle-aged woman. As she approached the chamber, the two guards stepped in front and blocked her path.


    How dare you? Irene snapped. Do you not care whether your heads are attached to your necks?


    Let her through, Theodoramanded, and the des stepped aside.


    Stepping inside, Irene nced at Leander. I should like an exnation for what is taking ce.


    What are you wondering about? Theodora asked.


    Why you are here, at night, in this dusty chamber. Why you are here with him, Irene said with contempt as she nodded towards Leander. What is the meaning of those guards, she continued, looking towards the des at the door. And why did I spot another dozen of them leaving the pce and moving into the city?


    Those are all good questions, Theodora said hesitantly. Well, the thing is What has happened It is a bit hard to exin, she said in echo of Leander earlier.


    There is a threat against the queen, Leander said, standing up. The guards are here to protect her as am I. The other guards have gone into the city to arrest the priests of Hamaring.


    That was not so hard to exin after all, Irene said coldly. Except you are missing all the parts that yield sense. You have sent the pce guards to arrest the whiterobes?


    Some of the guards, Theodora borated. It seems not all of them can be trusted. These are the old Kings des, they are loyal to me.


    The Kings des? Who let your uncle, your predecessor die to ckboot scum? Irene said incredulously. You trust them with your safety? What, would you have Count Esmarch leading them as well since we are repeating past mistakes anyway?


    Well, Theodora said weakly while sharing a nce with Leander.


    I do not believe it, Irene eximed, and indeed her face expressed utter disbelief. The man lives in an abandoned house. His mind is less reliable than a knife made of y and his wit less sharp!


    You are wrong, Leander said coolly. Once the count returns, he will prove the queens faith in him justified.


    Or it will show that you unleashed a madman on the streets, and we will have a massacre on our hands, Irene bit back. How do you even know these priests are guilty? That you have not instigated a bloodbath against innocent people?


    How do you know, Leander? Theodora asked when her cousin did not immediately answer.


    I became aware of their plot, Leander mumbled. And then I asked Count Esmarch to help.


    That is no answer, Irene sneered. What would the motivation even be for the priests? High treason is notmitted on a whim.


    Their high priest wants to be court seer, Leander exined in a faint voice. And remove Theodora from power. I think some of the counts are involved as well. Noblemen who do not wish to see a woman on the throne.


    But they would need a candidate for the throne, Irene argued. Somebody to rece Theodora with, who would give them what they crave. Somebody that would be epted as worthy of the crown. Somebody her voice trailed off as she stared at Leander. You. It was you.


    What? Theodora asked.


    I refused, Leander said quickly, raising his hands in defence. I have done everything I can to stop them.


    Leander, what? Theodora asked; her voice grew quiet as the answer to her question became apparent.


    Leander was their choice, Irene sneered. They would depose you, Theodora, and put your dear cousin on the throne. A man, Everards son, a puppet whose strings they hold.


    Leander, Theodora said hoarsely.


    I refused them, Leander insisted. I mean, I pretended to ept so they would not bash my skull in. But then I did everything in my power to stop them. Their ns have failed, Lord Hubert is arresting them now because of me!


    You pretended to ept? Or did you get cold feet, Irene said with disdain. Betray your allies and save your skin. I would expect as much from you.


    No, Leander yelled. I would never act in such a way.


    I look at you and I see nothing of my husband, Irene continued contemptuously. He was the bravest man in the kingdom, and you are a pale, contorted, twisted version of his image. I would have born him courageous sons.


    That may be, Leander said, and his voice grew quiet, but it was clear and steady. But at least I do not have one drop of your malice. Only one in this room has grabbed power beyond right, and it is not me.


    Your mother has supplied plenty of malice, I assure you, Irene retorted.


    Silence! Theodora cried out, and the other two people in the room became quiet. May I remind you that we are still facing a threat. This is not the time to pour poison into each others wounds.


    You are right, Theodora, Irene finally admitted. What matters now is rooting out these conspirators.


    When the des return, they will bring the priests with them. That will be the end of it, Leander imed.


    I have some passing knowledge of the whiterobes, Irene said with an overbearing smile. Coupled with their disdain for women is how they prize strength and courage. It is doubtful how many of them will surrender or what they will admit afterwards. Fortunately, there are other ways.


    How do you mean? asked Theodora.


    They have supporters here at court. Within the guards and no doubt the nobility. Thankfully not all my eyes and ears are idle, Irene exined. We will unravel this. For instance, who involved you, Leander? Leander did not answer but simply stared at the dowager queen, who continued her line of questioning. I have never heard of you even entering a temple. How did the whiterobes contact you? Leander did not respond to this either. Never mind, Irene sneered. I think I know whom to me besides the high priest of Hamaring.


    Who? asked Theodora.


    Who could more desire to see Leander on the throne than his dear mother? Irene smiled. Someone who has been seen in thepany of the whiterobes on more than one asion.


    Leander, is it true? Theodoras eyes were was wide open as they possibly could be.


    Yes, Leander muttered. She was the one who met with the priests. Who had me meet with them.


    Finally, Irene breathed. She made her mistake.


    Their discussion was interrupted by the arrival of several des. Your Majesty, one of them said. Count Esmarch sent us ahead to bring word. He regrets to inform you that the priests decided to resist.


    What a surprise, Irenemented.


    He is leaving some of ourpany to keep watch at the temple. The rest, along with our prisoners, he will bring back to the pce when ready. He requests you keep at least two if not more of our numbers outside your chambers tonight until he arrives.


    Very well, Theodora nodded. You have done well tonight.


    It would seem our faith in the count of Esmarch was justified, Leander remarked vindicated.


    How pleasant for you, Irene said in a biting tone and turned towards the des. Bring Lady Diane here. Now, wake her up if you must.


    What are you intending? Leander asked.


    She is involved, Irene replied sharply. This is her chance to confess. The de looked towards Theodora who nodded in consent.


    After the guard departed, the council chamber was silent except for the sound of retreating footsteps. Nobody spoke or moved. Neither Leander nor Theodora looked at each other, while Irene seemed happy to scrutinise Leanders facial expressions. Leander ignored her, staring at the wall.


    Finally, they heard the sounds of footsteps; one pair marching quickly, one pair being dragged and scuffing against the carpeted floor. How dare you, came the wincing voice of a woman. Reaching the door, the guard pushed Diane into the council chamber. She was wearing her nightclothes, revealing her attractive figure, and she did not seem troubled by anyck of modesty either; she simply nced around the room, taking in the sight of those present. What is going on? she demanded to know.


    Mother, I am sorry, Leander mumbled. But I could not.


    What have you done, boy? Diane said in a rising voice. No, do not tell me you have. You did not.


    I had to, Leander eximed with a thick voice. You forced me to choose. I could not choose you.


    You stupid boy! Everything was within your reach, Diane burst out. You fool!


    Silence, Irene sneered. I think that is sufficient admission of guilt. Now I will never have to suffer the sound of your voice again, thedy dered, walking over to stare into Dianes face. She was shorter than her rival, yet Diane seemed to shrink, while Irene towered over her. On his deathbed, my husband made me swear not to harm you or your son. All these years I have kept that promise because it was his dying wish. But you have done this to yourself, Irene said triumphantly. Take her away and confine her to her room for now. Until her fate is decided.


    Dianes protestations turned into screams as the guard began to haul her away. Leander watched her, blinking a few times to keep his eyes clear, but he was unable to speak. Guards, Irene continued, escort Lord Leander to his chambers and keep him confined as well. Her voice was neutral except for when she spoke his title and name, which came out with an undercurrent of mocking.


    What? Leander eximed. No! Theodora burst out.


    Regardless of whether you are guilty or not, you have been implicated, Irene exined with a hint of a smile. Until your guilt can be ascertained, you will be kept under lock. Be grateful it is your chambers and not the dungeons.


    Irene, that seems unnecessary, Theodora began to object but fell silent when Irene turned to look at her.


    Not now, Theodora, she told her niece. Guards, she continued, nodding towards Leander.


    I can walk on my own, Leander dered, raising his hand to keep the guard at distance. He began walking out of the chamber but stopped when he stood next to Irene. His mouth open, an insult was at the tip of his tongue. No, I am not like you, he ended up saying, swallowing whatever words had been intended, and continued walking tall out of the room.


    When they were alone except for the guards standing outside the door, Theodora turned towards her aunt. Surely this is unnecessary, she said. Leander did all this to save me. I do not think he is guilty.


    The question of guilt is irrelevant, Irene responded impatiently. This is a question of threat.


    Threat? Theodora repeated.


    Theodora, certainly now you must see this. We were on the precipice of a revolt tonight, Irene said insisting. They wanted to dethrone you so they could put Leander in your ce!


    But that was not his fault, Theodora tried to argue. I do not think he wanted this.


    I find it hard to believe the bastard son of a king would not wish to seed his father, Irene said dryly. Finally attaining the respect denied him. Again, Leanders wishes are irrelevant. If this revolt had gone through, you think his objections would have mattered? He would have be their puppet king, and you would have been executed.


    But it was stopped, Theodora continued her objections. They are dead or in chains.


    There will always be more, Irene shook her head. The mere fact that you are a woman galls them. As long as a male heir is alive, living here at court as a daily reminder, some people will prefer him to you. They will consider you the weaker choice, and if you spare Leander after this tant threat, they will be confirmed!


    But he is my cousin, Theodora said faintly. My friend.


    We need not decide his fate this instant, Irene told her niece in a more soothing tone of voice. If execution seems too harsh, he can be imprisoned securely somewhere, or exile under pain of death. There are options.


    This does not feel right, Theodorained.


    Politics is about being pragmatic, not about being right, Irene said dismissively. The fact remains that some will always consider Leanders im stronger than yours. If for no other reason than it will suit their needs. A wise ruler does not suffer rivals. Now get some rest before the sun rises.


    Obedient, Theodora left the council chamber, apanied by the remaining des. As she walked through the hallway and passed a window, however, she saw the faint twilight heralding theing day and that the night was all but spent.


    ~~~~


    Having sent Theodora to her chamber, Irene left as well. She did not go to her own chambers, however, but to the court seers quarters and found him asleep. Wake up, you ipetent fool, she called out, and the bewildered priest opened his eyes, blinking heavily.


    Who is there? he asked in a drowsy voice. In response, Irene took a jar of water from a nightstand and threw it in his face. Mydy, Dominic eximed. He tried to give some sort of bow, but all he could muster was an awkward nod.


    Do you have any idea what has happened tonight? While you were snoring? Irene snarled at him.


    I confess, mydy, I do not, Dominic shivered.


    Tonight, half the whiterobes in Tothmor are dead, if not more.


    Dead? gasped Dominic. Is the mob killing priests?


    No, you spineless sod, the royal guards are. The whiterobes were going to attack tomorrow, take control of the pce.


    I have not been told of this. Dominic rubbed his eyes while wiping water from his brow.


    Exactly, Irene hissed. You were supposed to watch the priests. You were supposed to know, yet you utterly failed, you ignorant, foul, little pus boil of a man!


    Mydy, Dominic stammered, please forgive me. I was deceived, it will not happen again.


    Do you enjoy wearing this? Irene asked, picking up a ne with a heavy pendant; it was the symbol of the court seer. Then I suggest you consider how to make up for this, or I will remove not only the ne, but your head along with it, she all but screamed and threw the ne against his head.


    Yes, mydy, Dominic mumbled weakly as he raised his hands to cover his face. The pendant hit him and fell down into the bed. The court seer looked down to find it and pick it up; when he had done so and looked up, Irene was gone.


    ~~~~


    As the new day dawned, it revealed that few people had rested well after the nights tumultuous events. Forgoing sleep, Theodora had simply sat in her chamber ever since returning from the council room, dismissing or ignoring all attempts by her handmaiden to interact with her. There was a knock on the door, and when opened, it revealed the queens mother.


    Daphne, would you give me some time alone with my daughter, please, Beatrice told the handmaiden, who bowed and left the room. Walking inside, Beatrice spotted Theodora sitting in a chair. In her hands, she had had sewing equipment. She was not using it to make much progress, however, but rather idly upying her hands with it.


    Theodora? Beatrice said cautiously. I have been informed of what happened. Count Esmarch was kind enough to exin matters. When she did not receive a reply, she came closer until she could sit down in a chair next to Theodora. I can understand if you have been left shocked byst nights events, she continued saying. And the new guards make sense, even if some of them seem a little rough around the edges. I suppose that makes them more intimidating, Beatrice remarked.


    I am not shocked, Theodora suddenly replied, turning her head to look at her mother. I have been thinking. On what to do.


    Is there anything you have to do? Beatrice asked. If you would like to take a few days to rest, none would me you. I am sure your aunt Irene can handle things for you.


    I am sure she can, Theodoramented a touch acerbically. If I leave this in Irenes hands, what are the odds she will have Leander executed?


    Oh dear, Beatrice eximed. It is not somon in Hthiod to execute people, dearest. A northern habit we must have picked up. Exile is most likely, or


    Or? Theodora pressed.


    The salt mines, I expect, Beatrice admitted reluctantly.


    Does Leander deserve that? Theodora asked.


    My dear, Leander is a sweet boy. There is not a deceitful bone in his body, I believe that, Beatrice said earnestly. But Irene is right in many things. He poses a danger to you, and he always will while he remains this uncertain factor. If the choice were between him and you, I would choose you. So would Irene, and so should you.


    It seems unreasonable that circumstances of birth should doom a person, Theodora pondered.


    It is entirely unreasonable, Beatrice granted. But we cannot change the rules of society, dear. These are the rules we must live by. Fate would have it that your circumstances made you queen.


    Theodora sat quiet for a moment. I think I know what I must do. Mother, would you summon one of the guards for me?


    Certainly, Beatrice said, sounding a little confused butplying nheless. She walked over and opened the door, telling one of the guards to step in.


    Find the court seer, Theodoramanded. Tell him I wish to see him immediately. The guard inclined his head and left swiftly.


    Theodora, what are you intending? asked Beatrice a bit worried.


    I will tell youter, the queen informed her mother. But there is something you can confirm for me. Given that I was four years old at the time of my coronation, I presume certain legalities concerning my age had to be amended.


    You had to be dered of age, yes, Beatrice nodded. Otherwise you could not have inherited the throne until you were twenty-one.


    And a lord protector would have been instated rather than Aunt Irenes invisible hand, Theodora muttered. But in the eyes of thew I am of age, then. With all the responsibilities and rights such entail.


    You are, Beatrice confirmed. Theodora, why are you asking?


    Not yet, Theodora replied. I will exin in due time.


    A little while, there was a discreet knock on the door. You may enter, Theodora granted, and the ck-robed high priest of Rihimil walked in with his court seers pendant hanging around his neck.


    You desired my presence, Your Majesty? Dominic said questioningly.


    I did, Theodora nodded. I have a few questions for you. Do you enjoy being court seer?


    I do, Your Majesty, Dominic answered cautiously, his eyes darting around the room.


    And at whose behest do you serve as court seer?


    Yours, Your Majesty, Dominic replied, licking his lips.


    Now think carefully about this question, for I will hold you to your answer, Theodora said, leaning forward slightly and folding her hands under her chin. If given an order by me or my aunt Irene, whose order would you follow? Whom would you choose?


    The priest stood with his lips parted, formting an answer but without sound being expressed. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and opened it again to give his response. Yours, Your Majesty.


    Good, Theodora said, leaning back. I will have need of your services tonight, so be prepared. Do not speak of any of this to anyone. Am I perfectly clear?


    Yes, Your Majesty, Dominic bowed deeply.


    Very good. You may yet prove worthy of your position for many years toe. Now leave us, the queen bade him. Dominic gave another deep bow and backed out of the room.


    Theodora, Beatrice began to say, but she was silenced by a raised hand from the queen.


    Another time, Mother. For now, leave me be. I am tired and I would like to sleep.


    ~~~~


    Being confined to his room, Leander was not allowed to receive visitors. He was brought a few meals, but otherwise the monotony of his day was not interrupted. He attempted to sleep a few times without luck. His room was not in the royal wing, but rather in the western-most wing, and his windows faced in that direction. They had heavy bars set into them to prevent entry by outsiders, which was now convenient to serve the opposite purpose; still, the windows gave him a measure of time as he could watch the sun approach the horizon and in the evening fill his room with fading light.


    As it dissipated entirely, Leander shortly after heard the dissonant tolling of several bells announcing nightfall; there was no longer the full number of six bells, however. It was not hard to guess which temple had silent towers or domes with no acolytes to pull the bell rope. Leander finished eating an apple and threw the core out between the bars of his window; then he leaned as much as he could onto the windowsill and stared westwards.


    The quickly approaching darkness soon covered everything his eyes could reach, and instead he gazed upwards towards the faint stars. Since the bars kept him back, however, he had to gaze at an awkward angle. He could make out the belt of the Swordsman, but not see his torso. If other constetions were visible, he would never know, for his astronomical observations were interrupted by a knock on the door.


    The person opening and stepping inside was Count Esmarch. Leanders face lit up briefly in a smile, but the counts nk expression caused it to fade away. Appearing after nightfall, Leander mumbled. I wonder what cause you might have to be here.


    The queen has summoned you, Hubert replied. I am not at liberty to reveal why.


    Not a request I can refuse, I take it, Leander smiled sardonically. Very well, he answered and went to his closet, picking out a doublet. Wherever I am going, I intend to be well-dressed, he said, putting it on.


    Follow me, Hubert said, stepping outside. Once Leander joined him in the corridor, the count took a strong grip on his arm and led him away.


    They walked through the hallways of the pce, which were empty apart from the Queens des. Hubert paid them no heed but marched briskly forward, forcing Leander at the same pace. Finally, the count stopped and nced in either direction of the hallway. Finding it empty, Hubert opened a door and pushed Leander inside before following himself and closing the door behind him. Inside, Leander found the queen, the queens mother, and the court seer turning to look at him. They were standing near an altar with a statue that Leander could recognise as Rihimil.


    I admit, this strikes me as a rather odd arrangement for an execution, Leander remarked.


    Leander dear, Theodora said, walking towards him, we are not gathered for such an asion. Rather on the contrary. You and I are going to wed.


    She was rewarded with a perplexed look. Pardon, I thought you  what? If this is a jest, it is in very poor taste, Leander managed to spit out.


    Not at all, Theodora shook her head. I spent all of today considering options. I am told you are a threat to me, that some will always be interested in using you, putting you on the throne for their own gain. I intend to beat them to it and put you on the throne for my gain.


    This is an absurd idea, Leander protested. He nced towards Beatrice and Dominic, but neither came to his aid. In desperation, he turned his head to look at Hubert behind him, but he found no sympathy in the counts face either.


    On the contrary, Theodora argued. The realm is divided because both you and I have a im on the throne for different reasons. This way, our children will unite our ims and conclude this divide.


    Children, Leander choked, his eyes widening.


    It is a perfect match, Theodora continued. Those whoin of my rule and would favour you as king will be cated. Whereas I will have a suitable husband that I trust, the only husband I could ever trust.


    Theodora, I have absolutely no skill where kingship is concerned, Leander insisted. I would be horrible with responsibility.


    How can you know? Have you ever been given any? Theodora asked. When Leander was unable to reply, she continued. I will continue to rule as queen regnant, obviously. You just have to support me in whatever I do and otherwise look handsome by my side, she smiled, patting his cheek.


    Thetter will be easy enough, Leander admitted. But is this even possible? You are sixteen years old.


    When my dear aunt Irene had me crowned at age four, she pushed me into adulthood, Theodora exined with another smile. Legally, I have been able to marry for twelve years.


    But sixteen, Leander repeated. In some ces, you would still be considered a child.


    I do not have the luxury of acting like a child, Theodora retorted. Really, I did not expect you to be so obstinate. What alternative do you think awaits you? Imagine what Irene will do if I cannot protect you.


    When you put it like that, Leander mumbled.


    Leander, Theodora said, drawing near to him. She was slightly shorter and standing this close had to raise her head to look him in the eyes. You were ready to die for me at some point. Would marrying me be so much worse?


    No, Leander said slowly. I mean, yes, very well. Very cautiously, a smile began to take shape on his face. I will marry you.


    Finally, growled the count behind them. I have seen soldiers charge certain death with less reluctance. What made you so hesitant, boy, the fact that your bride is beautiful or that she offers you a crown?


    It is a little overwhelming, Leander mumbled defensively as Theodora took his hand and led him towards the altar. Beatrice was already managing the facial expression between smiling and shedding tears that only the mother of a bride might produce.


    Are both parties willing and agreed, the court seer said, clearing his throat.


    Willing and agreed, Theodora confirmed, looking at Leander with a smile.


    Good. Hands, please, Dominic requested of them. Theodora and Leander each raised the one closest to the other person, letting their hands touch in the air between them. Step forward and touch the altar, Dominic instructed them and moved away to allow them ess. The pair moved forward and extended their free hand to touch the statue upon the altar while still keeping their other hands held together.


    Leander, born to Everard, whose title was king of Hthiod, vassal to the Megas Basileus of Adalmearc, do you swear that you are here by your own free will and that to enter matrimony with this woman is your own desire?


    I do so swear, Leander replied.


    Theodora, born to Stephen, whose title was count of Lakonia, vassal to the king of Hthiod, do you swear that you are here by your own free will, and that to enter matrimony with this man is your own desire?


    I do so swear, Theodora answered.


    You may step back, Dominic told them, and with one hand still touching the others, they moved backwards one pace from the altar to allow the priest to take position in front of it again. Several things were lying on the hewn marble b, which served as the base for the statue, and Dominic bent down slightly to pick up some of the items. In his one hand, he held a cup of wine; in the othery grains of salt.


    In salt is life, Dominic chanted while letting the precious mineral fall down into the wine. In wine is trust, he continued, swirling it around a bit and letting the salt disperse before he offered the cup to the bridal couple. They used their free hands to both hold the cup, and carefully they led it first to Leanders lips and then Theodoras. When they had both drunk from the salted wine, they returned the cup to Dominic. May your union be blessed with both, he finished and ced the cup back on the altar, picking up two pieces of string instead.


    There were examples of far more borate pieces of woven fabric made specifically for this part of the ritual, but the improvised nature of this asion meant that the strings were entirely in; they looked as if they might havee from a sewing kit. The court seer tied one string around Theodoras wrist and the other string around Leanders wrist. Then he braided the loose ends from each string together.


    When it was done, the priest pulled down. The enjoined parts proved stronger; the two singr ends of the strings around Theodoras and Leanders wrists broke apart, leaving only what had be entwined into one. Holding the small braid in one hand, Dominic took hold of the pairs hands with the other, turning them around and letting the braid fall into their open palms. As a final gesture, he closed their hands around it.


    With this act, you have be one. Under the eyes of the dragon, the raven, the bull, the horse, the bear, the hart, and the eagle, your union is consecrated. Let no man dispute what the gods have done this day. With those words, the ritual waspleted, and Theodora and Leander were wed.

 Chapter 28: Movements in Shadow and Light

    Chapter 28: Movements in Shadow and Light


    Movements in Shadow and Light


    Tothmor


    The morning after their wedding, Theodora woke to find Leander already awake as hey by her side. He was staring at the ceiling, but she managed to catch his attention. Good morning, she said, quietly but smiling.


    And a very good morning to you, he replied in the same fashion.


    You seem pensive? shemented.


    Thesest few days have given me much to consider, he responded. When do you intend to announce that our sleeping habits have changed?


    She giggled at his expression before managing to stifle herughter. Today, as soon as I can summon the court. I kept our wedding secret to ensure nobody could interfere, but Irene will still be nning a trip to the salt mines for you. Not to mention all the rumours there must be flying around regarding the other night with the whiterobes.


    Indeed, Leander remarked. There was something I wanted to do first. If I return around noon, afternoon, maybe you could announce it to the court then?


    What are you intending? Theodora asked.


    I have been thinking. While your argumentsst night werepelling, I think many will still doubt you. Doubt your choice in me, I mean. They will not agree that I am suitable for the honour you have shown me.


    Theodora had been resting her head by his shoulder, but now she jerked away to look into his face. You are not having doubts, are you? Theodora asked.


    Not at all, Leander hastened to reassure her. No, you are my heart, Theodora. You always have been.


    Good, she said more quietly, leaning back into bed again.


    But I was thinking that before people know, I should go down to the battlements. Inspect the outer walls.


    Leander, the enemy is not there yet, Theodora said in a teasing tone.


    I know, I know, he chuckled. But they will be soon. I should familiarise myself with our defences, let the men see me.


    What for?


    While I have my doubts about my father, he did do some things right, Leander began to exin. His bravery might have killed him, but he was admired by all. He was the very image of what a king should be. If people are to respect me, I must do likewise. The people must see me on the walls, ready to defend the city. Both now and once the siege begins.


    Might have killed him, Theodora repeated. Do not overlook that. I absolutely forbid you from being killed.


    I have no such intentions, Leander could not help butugh. I will not be charging the enemy on my own. But I must be seen. If people are to respect me as a king, I must act as one.


    I suppose I see your reasoning, Theodora said reluctantly. Why begin today though? As I said, the enemy has not even been sighted near the city yet.


    I thought I should start in good time. Our soldiers will already be making preparations, Leander argued. And I wanted to do it before you announce my new status. At least once before people know you have made me your king.


    Why is that important to you? Theodora asked with a frown.


    Because in this moment, I think people will severely question your judgement in this matter. My reputation is hardly impressive.


    I have heard a bad called The Swordsman and the Queen that would beg to differ, Theodora said with a wry smile.


    That thing will haunt me to my grave, Leander groaned. But I have seen peoples reactions to it, and many people find itedic, not dramatic. Which I cannot fault them for.


    You think you can change their minds?


    It is a small thing to do, Leander admitted. But I wish to do just one thing as Leander, the royal bastard, before I be Leander, the king. One thing that might make your choice seem a little more reasonable once you tell people about us. Does that make sense?


    A little, I suppose, Theodora admitted. Besides, if this is what my dear husband wants, she added and gave him a kiss. Take some of the des with you, just in case.


    I would not dream otherwise, Leander smiled.


    Very well, Theodora consented. Go, act kingly before the people, and we will let the court receive its shockter today.


    ~~~~


    Although first bell had rung to announce sunrise, the court seer was still sleeping in his bed. Once more he was rudely awakened, this time by a hand giving him a p across the cheek. With a snort, the priests eyes flung open, and he found the shape of a man dressed haggardly bent over his bed. Do not hurt me, Dominic winced. I am under the queens protection, she will not allow me to be hurt.


    That will not save you from me if I wished otherwise, Godfrey said with a smile showing his teeth. Fortunately for you, I am only here to deliver a warning.


    You can tell thedy Irene I am not afraid of her, Dominic croaked without sounding convincing.


    I am not here for your petty squabbles, Godfrey uttered with contempt.


    Wait, I remember you. You brought me the message from the Archon, Dominic frowned. How did you get past the guards?


    They are more upied with protecting the royal wing, Godfrey smiled sardonically.


    But how did you get past the gate? asked the court seer.


    This pce was built directly into the mountainside, Godfrey began to exin. Whatbours that must have required, he considered. In addition to making the teau, they excavated tunnels going below the pce or into the mountain.


    Tunnels?


    They are very old, Godfrey nodded. Few who know of them, but extremely useful to move around unseen, he added with another unsettling smile. I tell you this so that you will understand the veracity of what I say next. No matter where, I can find you and reach you. You will never be safe anywhere in this city if you displease me again.


    But I do not even know who you are! Dominic cried out exasperated. What have I done wrong?


    You have allowed this city to fall into decay, Godfrey roared. Have you not seen the poverty that gues the streets? People thirsting for water, unable to do anything but pray for rain that will refill the cisterns. It is the responsibility of the priesthoods to service the poor, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to providefort and healing to the sick. But what have you done? Godfrey asked with thunder in his eyes. You and the other priests have engaged in your petty schemes, collecting offerings and spent them to build temples, making idols of your own vanity! And in your neglect, evil has crept onto the streets of Tothmor. Not three nights ago they nearly struck a blow that would have left the city crippled, ripe for the taking!


    What, the whiterobes? Dominic asked confused.


    No, Godfrey reproached him, lowering his voice. They were merely pawns in a greater ploy. I speak of a new faith, recruiting among those in Tothmor that have been forsaken by your clergy. Go to the lower circle, for I presume you have not set foot there in years. Listen to the prophets in the gutter. Few may pay them any heed, but it takes only one man to be convinced. One man in the wrong ce and disaster will follow.


    I know nothing of this, Dominic defended himself. He tried to sit up in his bed, but Godfrey ced his index finger on the court seers chest and pressed him back.


    Clearly. But this city has hardships ahead, Godfrey warned him. You would do well to consider all I have said. Go to the lower districts, see the truth. Gods help you if I return and find you have done nothing, though I can tell you now they will not.


    Before Dominic could muster further response, Godfrey turned and disappeared out of the chamber. For a moment, the court seery in bed motionless and speechless; then he moved his hand over to his bedside table and grabbed the talisman of Rihimil he typically wore under his robe, clutching it tightly.


    ~~~~


    Leander had an armour rack in his room. The steel was rather matte and could do with a thorough polishing, but it was otherwise serviceable. Forgoing the full outfit, Leander restrained himself to only the mail shirt and not the ted parts thatpleted it or the bracers and greaves. He did add the surcoat with Hthiods emblem upon it, a singr bluebell. Lastly, he tied his sword belt around him, shifting the weight of the mail shirt from his shoulders to his waist as the belt tightened. He held the helmet briefly but decided against it and simply ran his hand through his golden locks a few times.


    Stepping outside, he found not only two des standing guard as expected but also the count of Esmarch. Lord Hubert, Leander greeted him.


    My lord Leander, Hubert replied with a barely hidden grin. The queen hasmanded I escort you on your inspection of the fortifications.


    I already have two guards with me, Leander pointed out, ncing at the intimidating soldiers by his side. Might seem a tad excessive.


    I think the queen had other concerns, so to say, Hubert tried to exin. What do you know of sieges? City walls, siege machinery, and such?


    Nothing, Leander shrugged.


    Precisely, Hubert said. Somebody by your side to aid your understanding was deemed desirable by Her Majesty. To put it in other words, I am here to protect your pride, not your body.


    Right, Leander mumbled with a wry expression. I think my pride was just wounded beyond saving, but I cannot find fault in her thinking. Let us go, hemanded and began walking, followed by his protectors.


    They walked down the main road, attracting some stares. While most people did not pay them much attention, some did recognise that the guards and Hubert wore surcoats with the emblem of the des upon them, surcoats that had not been seen in more than a decade. As for Leander, while they might cross paths with any who knew his face, few of those would have recognised him in his current garbs and appearance. They reached the fifth district and moved away from the street and up on the battlements. Below them, there was a steady procession of people leaving the city before the impending siege.


    So many people fleeing, Leander contemted.


    Better that way, my lord, Hubert imed. Less people to feed once the siege starts.


    I suppose. What preparations are being made? Leander asked.


    All the snow gatherers have been sent up the mountain to fill their barrels. Drinking water will be sparse, Hubert said with gloom. Not much else. We are waiting for the return of Sir Leonard. As marshal, he hasmand of the defence.


    I see, Leander nodded.


    They moved to the top of the gatehouse, ncing over the stonework and the contraptions ced upon it. Two enormous cauldrons had been ced on feet with room to build a fire underneath them. Furthermore, the cauldrons were supported by a frame that allowed them to be tipped and returned to their position. On the floor were carved grooves so that once tipped, the cauldrons content would flow along these paths and down in front of the gate.


    For oil, Hubert exined, gesturing towards the cauldrons and showing how they functioned. Well, a mixture of that and other materials. It is heated up, and the cauldron is pushed over. It flows through the deepening here and onto anybody attacking the gate. Fire is added, and it all ignites.


    Barbaric, Leander shuddered, but I see its use. Are we well stocked on oil?


    Lord Leander asked you a question, Hubert barked at one of the city guards keeping watch on the gatehouse.


    The guard turned around with a dazed look but did not question being questioned by a nobleman. There are several barrels below, milord. Enough tost many assaults before we must procure more.


    Very well, Leander nodded to him, showing no sign that the answer held meaning to him. To your post.


    Yes, milord, the guard answered bewildered and ended up giving a short bow before turning back around. Done with this part, the group left the gatehouse and moved down the wall; the des kept sharp watch while Hubert exined the details and purposes of the fortifications.


    How will they attack us? What siege machines, I mean, Leander asked.


    Truth be told, one month ago I did not even think ounders knew what a siege was, Hubert admitted with a shrug. I half expect them to charge us and build a ramp up to the walls from the bodies of their fallen brethren.


    Now there is an image, Leander muttered. What problems will we encounter? As the siege drags on.


    Well, Hubert scratched his beard. We will need to guard the storehouses heavily. Probably punish theft by death. Hungry people are desperate people.


    Right, starvation, Leander remarked. I cannot even imagine.


    If the siege is fierce, we will have a lot of wounded. There will be infection and disease spreading, the count continued.


    How many sibyls are in the city? came the next question.


    I would not know right now. Maybe twenty? Or thirty, Hubert guessed. Probably double that amount ofy brothers.


    They should train more, Leander contemted. Morey brothers. I want the sibyls to instruct the other priesthoods in the basic task of treating the wounded. At least all these damn robes will be useful for something other than treason.


    Very well, my lord, Hubert smiled.


    The servants too. A lot of those in the pce might as well be instructed also.


    I will convey your instructions to the steward, my lord, Hubert promised.


    Good, good, Leander said absentmindedly. He turned to stare south, beyond the wall and onto the surrounding heath. Let us return, hemanded, and they left the walls.


    Moving back towards the main street, Leander recognised a feathered, red cap and its owner. The bard was walking with another man, who suddenly pointed in excitement. I told you! he eximed. With a chagrined expression, Troy dug into his pockets and found some silver coins, mming them into the other mans waiting palm.


    You cost me five silver, Troyined as he approached Leander. What is with the guards?


    How about you exin first, Leander frowned.


    Some fellow came into the tavern, imed that the kings bastard was inspecting the city defences. I told him that I never knew the king had two sons, for the only bastard I know would not even be out of bed at this hour.


    I am charmed by your high opinion of me, Leander snorted.


    Being in disagreement, we settled it like real men with a wager. And thats the story of how you owe me five eagles.


    You will be waiting until Hel is in heaven for that, Leander mocked. Bute along, instead you can apany us to the pce, he suggested, and they began walking again up towards the inner circle.


    Quite the chaos on the street, Troy remarked as he navigated through the many people moving in every direction. Of course, not that such would bother you, he added as he saw the crowd part before Leander and his guards.


    Get out your instrument and start singing, Leander suggested, that should quickly cause people to give you quite the wide berth.


    I hope you realise I only suffer your poor attempts of making jests because you buy me wine, Troy retorted.


    As long as you are drinking, you are not singing, Leander pointed out.


    Why are you out here, though? And with guards, one of whom I recognise, Troy side-eyed Hubert. I tried to see you yesterday, but I was told you were imprisoned in your quarters. And now I find you strutting around in armour like a free man.


    Much more than a free man, Leander could not help but smile. But you will be informed at the same time as the court once we return.


    Is this something worth stringing my lute for? Troy asked.


    Nothing could ever warrant that, Leander replied serenely.


    One day, Troy swore, I willpose an epos and make you the wart-ridden viin.


    ~~~~


    In Guys tavern, Godfrey was packing a satchel of provisions. Are you sure you do not need more? the tavern owner said sceptically, scrutinising what little Godfrey had taken. I have some dried meat. And cheese.


    With the siegeing, you will need it more, Godfrey cautioned him. Keep it. But under lock. Soon, people will despair.


    I have an axe, Guy nodded. Geoffrey, should I have fled west? Taken my son and run?


    I cannot predict, hispanion admitted. But it is toote now. Many of those fleeing will be caught by the ounders, I estimate, and suffer a worse fate. Stay, barricade your doors.


    What of you? the tavern keeper asked frowning.


    I know how to stay safe, Godfrey assured him with a smile.


    I would feel better if you stayed, Guy told him.


    I cannot, Godfrey shook his head. War has finallye, and the realms are not prepared. I must buy time, buy it with blood, I fear. I must go, I must go, he repeated and then quietly onest time. I must go.


    Moving along with the stream of people, Godfrey left the city. However, whereas all others followed the Kingsroad west towards the province of Ingmond in Adalrik, Godfrey pulled his cloak around him and turned east. He walked for miles in arid surroundings with Tothmor dwindling in size behind him.


    Finally, he reached a rock formation that broke the monotony of the heath; the only sign of life was a sparrow, singing heartily. As he approached it, Godfrey spotted a hint of movement and it made him stop. Gazing intently towards the formation, a brief while passed where Godfrey remained motionless. Then he heard a faint sound behind him and quickly turned.


    Appearing between the rocks a shape came, seemingly melting out of the shadows. The figure wore dark fur and leather from his hood to his ck boots. Various short daggers and des were strapped to his body along with a quiver of arrows; in his hands, he held a short bow. His eyes were dark as was his hair, and while such traits weremon among the people of Hthiod, his garments and gear dered him an ounder; he was a member of that band which the Hthians dreaded and had dubbed ckboots.


    Lowering his bow, the ounder broke out a smile. Javed, he called out in greeting; both men stepped towards each other and embraced like brothers. Javed, my heart soars to see you again, said the ckboot.


    And mine, Kamran, upon seeing you well, Godfrey replied. Were you in the battle?


    The scout shook his head. We are too valuable to be used in such a manner.


    But did you observe it? What happened?


    The drnders infantry broke, Kamran exined. They were too ill-disciplined, and their riders were lured forward, became entangled, and could not use their momentum. Jenaab Sikandar is no fool at strategy.


    Indeed. I am surprised to find you here though. Have you waited long?


    Kamran shook his head. Since yesterday only. We have taken turns waiting since your signal.


    I take it things are amiss since you did not merely leave me a message? Godfrey continued his questions.


    Kamran shook his head again. Too much to tell. You have been gone long, Javed. Things are ill at home.


    You can tell me on the way, Godfrey replied.


    As you say, the ounder conceded. I can only follow you for a day or so, however, or I will be missed. You will have to cross the mountains alone. But I have brought extra food you can take with you.


    Very well, Godfrey reassured him. It is no matter, I know the paths. Come, let us make haste, he told the other man, and together the vagrant and the ckboot set off on a north-eastern course.


    ~~~~


    Late afternoon, the court of Hthiod had been summoned to the throne room. The waiting courtiers were gathered in their usual small groups and factions, busily discussing the suspected reasons for the summoning. It was not the typical hour for audiences to be given, nor were there extraordinary reasons such as when the Order knights had arrived. Most assumptions centred on the events of some nights ago that was still shrouded in the unknown.


    The fact that yesterday, Leander had been incarcerated in his chambers but now stood in the throne hall was further fuel for rumours, though none knew if the two des nking him were his protectors or his jailers. Nothing was more eagerly pointed out, however, that while they were still waiting for the queen to arrive, Irene was already present along with the other courtiers. This indicated that the gathering was not of her choosing, and spections were running rampant.


    Finally, silence fell as the doors were opened and the queen entered, apanied by her mother, the court seer, and the count of Esmarch. All heads bowed as she progressed into the room and took her seat upon the throne. No doubt rumours have blossomed concerning all that has happened ofte, Theodora began to speak. I am here to enlighten you all of what has transpired.


    Without consulting me? Irene said in a low voice as she approached the throne so few others could hear.


    In due time, dear aunt, Theodora smiled and continued speaking more loudly. Two nights ago, it was brought to my attention that a conspiracy had formed in this city. Seeking to supnt me and aided by people within this pce, she spoke while letting her gaze sweep over the assembled crowd, the priests of Hamaring prepared an assault. Thankfully, there are still men of honour in our capital. Acting on my authority, the count of Esmarch gathered these men and put an end to the conspiracy.


    By killing priests? eximed one elderly nobleman, whose age had excused him from riding into battle. His voice was slightly condescending, and his words received murmurs of agreement.


    By killing traitors, Count Lykia, Theodora said in a harsh tone. Traitors working with people living within these halls, the queen specified and let her eyes nce over the courtiers again. You will notice that most of the guards have been reced. It will be a short while until they are at full strength, but I assure you their vignce does not suffer. And now there is no doubt that the guards are fully loyal to me.


    What ploy is this, Irene muttered, but Theodora ignored her.


    Lord Hubert has formed the Queens des and will ensure such a threat never arises again. He will also root out any remaining enemies of the Crown, Theodora said pointedly while staring at the count of Lykia, who did not speak again. He is to be considered an extension of my will and obeyed in all things.


    What of your cousin? Irene spoke up, forcing a confrontation. We are all given to understand that he was deeply involved in this aforementioned plot.


    I am d you mention it, Theodora smiled. What you say is true. My dear cousin Leander was instrumental in unmasking the perpetrators who would have unseated me from my rightful ce. It is for this reason, she said while extending a hand towards Leander, who stepped closer to take hold of it, that I decided to reward him with my hand in marriage.


    mour swept through the room upon this announcement. You must be mad, Irene hissed through her teeth. You think I will allow you to marry this brainless, usurping upstart?


    Silence, roared Hubert, which calmed some of the noise.


    Due to the uncertain times this realm has found itself in, Theodora continued undisturbed, we decided not to dy. Last night, Leander and I were wed before the altar and under the eyes of the gods. Waves of sound came with renewed force, and suddenly all eyes turned towards Leander in realisation that he had formally, if not publicly, been king of Hthiod since yesterday.


    Preposterous, Irene eximed and spoke again in a stronger voice. That cannot be legitimate. You are not old enough to marry.


    Theodoras only response was turning to look at the court seer, who cleared his throat. In preparation for Her Majestys ascension to the throne, our revered queen was dered of age many years ago. I have seen the documents dering this with my own eyes, which allowed me to not only crown the queen full with legality but also officiate her wedding, Dominic said, licking his lips and trying to avoid Irenes gaze.


    As witnesses that the ritual was performed and that we have the blessings of the gods, Lady Beatrice and Lord Hubert were both present, Theodora added. Irene turned partly in the direction of her own chambers, but she was halted by Theodoras next words, spoken softly. There is no need, Aunt Irene. My guards were in your room just now. They have retrieved the document, and it will be ced under lock and key.


    Defeated, Irene turned to stare at the court seer with unfiltered hatred. You betrayed me, she hissed.


    Hail to the king! yelled Count Larisa, who was swift in adopting a servile expression.


    The courtiers quickly repeated this shout. Hail to the king! Hail to the king! Hail to the king!


    That will be all, Theodora announced as the salutations ended. Still holding Leanders hand, she stood up, and together they walked out of the room followed by their guards, the count Esmarch, the queens mother, and an anxious-looking court seer.

 Chapter 29: A Lordly Gift

    Chapter 29: A Lordly Gift


    A Lordly Gift


    Tothmor


    The following day, the news of two events made the city explode in excitement, anticipation, anxiety, or a blend of all three. The first was thepletely unexpected wedding between the queen and the man already considered her hero. These tidings were coupled with the many rumours of what had happened to the whiterobes in one bloody night when so many of them fell. The temple of Hamaring was still closed, and a couple of des kept the curious neighbourhood boys away, though a few of the novices had been seen cleaning the ce and making it fit for habitation again.


    There were some that believed a revolt had taken ce with the result that Leander in league with the count of Esmarch had forced the queen to marry him and make him king; those telling that story could not quite ount for how all the dead whiterobes fit into it, though. Mostly, people were baffled considering Leander had never had a reputation for aspiring to anything, and many imagined the wedding to be some form of gambit in courtly intrigues. There were also a few, a faction to which Troy belonged and gave aid with his bads, who believed the queen and their new king to be sweethearts that had always longed for each other.


    The second piece of news was that the Mearcian army had been sighted by the sentries, and it was now reaching the city on its retreat. This was far more sobering; while people argued about the cause, their defeat in battle was an established fact, and it meant that a siege was to follow. When the soldiers reached the city and began marching in, there were no cheers or cries of support; they were met with only silent stares, some conveying pity and others conveying judgement. The soldiers themselves seemed to care little. Those that had homes in Tothmor went there; the rest were assigned to various barracks or buildingsmandeered for the purpose.


    The marshal of Hthiod, however, moved straight to the pce. Once he reached it, the servants quickly located the steward and informed him of the marshals presence; the steward in turn located the king and queen. The pair reached the throne room and found the marshal standing there, waiting for them. His attire was torn, bloodied, and worn, and fatigue was visible upon his face. Upon seeing the royal couple, followed by their shadow Hubert, he managed to incline his head in greeting but nothing more.


    Sir Leonard, Theodora spoke, we are both pleased to see you returned.


    Your Majesties, he answered. I am told to congratte you, though you have chosen an interesting time to assume responsibilities, my good king.


    So I have, Leander conceded. Just hearing you address me in that manner is odd. But please, tell us of the situation.


    The ounders have been hot on our heels, the marshal exined. They will be here soon and begin the siege. The king of Korndale was told to mobilise and should bring a relief force, however. If we canst, we may force them to abandon their assault on the city and retreat.


    So there is hope, Theodora remarked. Do whatever you must to hold the city, Sir Leonard.


    I shall, Leonard inclined his head. I am returning to my chambers in the Order tower now to make ns. I would normally be joined by the othermanders present, but I fear they all fell upon the battlefield. A shadow went across Theodoras face upon hearing this, but she did not speak, and Leonard continued. Of course, Your Majesties are wee to join me.


    Theodora and Leander exchanged looks. You go, my dear, Theodora said. I have other affairs. With so many of our vassals lost in battle, several issues will crop up.


    Of course, Leander nodded. I shall apany you, marshal.


    Perhaps you would like to bring Count Esmarch? Theodora suggested, sparking a grin from Hubert behind her.


    Probably best, Leander smiled and bent down slightly to kiss his wifes cheek. We will speakter. Sir Leonard, Lord Hubert, let us be on our way, hemanded and followed the marshals lead.


    Leaving the pce and crossing the grounds, the three men entered the Order tower. It had been all but deserted ofte, but now it was once more packed with soldiers. Moving up the floors to the top containing the marshals office, they were weed by the marshals secretary who expressed his relief at seeing his master unharmed.


    Thank you, Thestor, Leonard answered. We will need the map of the city. The secretary nodded and dug out a key, which he subsequently used upon arge chest. Opening it, he rummaged through its various contents until he dug out an old, folded-up piece of parchment. He handed it to the marshal, who unfurled it and ced it on the table.


    To the north, it showed the top of the solitary mountain that served as Tothmors foundation; southwards, the five semicircles of the city spread out. Primarily the walls, gates, and towers were emphasised along with the pce and the Order tower, but something else of great peculiarity was carefully penned onto the map.


    The old tunnels, Leander eximed as he realised what it was.


    Quite right, Your Majesty, the marshal confirmed. What makes this map worth locking away is that it depicts the tunnels. Some of them, at any rate, the knight amended. Are you acquainted with them?


    I have been told of this one, Leander exined, pointing his finger at one tunnel that began from the pce and led north. It is known to everyone in the royal family. It has its beginning in the royal bedchamber, though I wonder where it ends, he pondered. The depiction on the map simply showed the tunnel reaching the northern edge of the map and nothing else.


    It seems to go through the mountain, Hubertmented.


    These are the tunnels I am interested in, however, the marshal said, taking charge of the subject. He pointed towards several tunnels that led from various points inside the city and outside beyond the walls.


    Exit points for sorties, the count of Esmarch muttered in a growl.


    Tothmor has not been besieged in my time, but they should still be there, Leonard considered. Once we know where the ounders have positioned themselves, we can begin striking at them.


    I thought a siege mostly consisted of us staying behind our walls, Leander admitted.


    Hardly, boy, Hubert bellowed. We will be making it hot for those bastards as long as they are outside our walls. I cannot wait!


    Quite, the marshal mumbled and changed the subject once more. We will need increased guards, but I will handle thatter. Right now we have to implement the usual precautions in a situation such as this.


    They would be? Leander ventured to ask.


    Well, preparations, the old knight borated. We need to inspect the storehouses for a lot of materials. Timber, stone to repair damage to our walls. We need to confiscate all horses in the city. We will keep the best as long as we can, but the rest has to be butchered. We can use the meat, and we need to ration the fodder. In the background, the marshals secretary was busy writing down his mastersmands.


    I see, Leander simply remarked.


    The noblemen in the city employ plenty of guards, Hubert offered. They should be conscripted for the defence of the city.


    Agreed, Leonard nodded and continued his summary. All ale brewing must be banned, of course, we cannot spend grain on that either. We should stock fabric for bandages.


    I have ordered the sibyls to train morey brothers, Leander inserted with a measure of pride. So that we will have enough to treat the wounded.


    Is that so, Leonard uttered. We need to call out stricter rations for water too, starting now. And more guards at the cisterns and water supply.


    In the lower circle too, Hubert added. We will need barrels of water down there for when the fires start.


    Quite right, the marshal conceded.


    Will people really want to steal something as simple as water? Leander could not refrain from asking, and all eyes in the room turned towards him, even Thestors.


    No worse enemy than thirst, Hubert growled. Hunger makes people desperate, but thirst, thirst is a demon that makes you mad. I once saw men kill each other simply to drink their blood to satiate themselves. The imagery painted a look of nausea onto Leanders face, and he fell silent.


    We need all fletchers in the city working every hour of daylight, the marshal continued, ncing at his scribe who nodded and scribbled furiously. I want every fowl in the city plucked for its feathers, confiscate the lot.


    How many bow staves do we have in reserve? asked Hubert. There may be men in this city currently unarmed but able to wield a longbow.


    We have very few, Leonard admitted. Our supplies from Vidrevi have lessened thesest few years. Seems they found other markets for their timber paying more.


    Bloody moss lickers, Hubert mumbled.


    Question that remains in my mind, however, the marshal suddenly said, is what role Your Majesty intends to y. He turned his gaze up from the map and stared directly at Leander.


    Well, Leander scratched his head, I will be down at the battlements. You know, defending the city.


    I am just curious because I return to this city finding it has a king. Yet when I rode out, it had only a drunken young fop whom I believe had never actually used a sword with a sharp edge before, Leonard said coldly. For a moment, the only sound heard was Thestor dropping his quill onto the floor.


    How dare you! eximed Hubert, grasping his sword, and he had it halfway out the sheath before the marshal raised a hand in a disarming gesture.


    I made no threats against His Majesty, Leonard pointed out, I merely state what I know. Once the horde of red-robed barbarians assaults these walls, I will have my hands full. There will be hundreds of boys under mymand, screaming for their mothers because they have never known the terror of a siege before. I will have to keep them on those walls, bleeding and dying day after day, whatever it takes. If they run, I will have to hang them for desertion, the marshal spoke with steel in his voice.


    He paused momentarily before he continued. But if they see their king lose his head, screaming and running away, I cannot punish His Majesty for such a disy nor prevent every other man on those fortifications from doing the same. I have a duty to protect this city, and I need to know whether His Majesty will aid me or hinder me in that duty. So I ask again, Your Majesty, Leonard said, emphasising the title, what role do you intend to y?


    How dare you impugn his honour, the count raged, but Leander raised a hand to silence his protector.


    Thank you, Lord Hubert, the marshal asks a fair question, Leander said, his own voice matching the marshals icy tone. I will tell you this, Sir Leonard. I will walk onto those walls at sunrise each day, and I will not leave until nightfall for as long as this siegests. Every day. My word as king of Hthiod.


    A word I will keep you to, the marshal dered.


    I take it we are done here, was Leanders only reply. As he turned and left the room, followed by Hubert, the young king did his best to hide how his hands shook.


    ~~~~


    The next day, those with keenest eyes among the sentinels spotted the ounders. Wherever they had made camp, it was too far away to be seen from the city; soon their scouts appeared, however, and they were followed by others. More and more soldiers marched into view until their red colours seemed to fill the heath. They did not move close enough for arrows to reach, nor did they take other actions. They simply stood in a disy of discipline, a show of force, disying every ounder ready to be unleashed upon the city.


    Finally, some of the ranks separated and gave way for a small procession to move forward; it consisted of several riders, a smallpany of infantry, and a wagon. They approached the walls slowly, calmly. As they came within earshot, one of the ounders called out in perfect Mearcspeech. We havee to negotiate the terms of your surrender, the herald proimed. This birthed activity on the walls, and messengers were sent up the mountain to the inner circle, bringing word to the relevant parties.


    The marshal arrived first, having easy ess to a horse. Although responsible for the citys defences, he did not begin the negotiations; he simply stood, surveying all he could about the numbers of the ounders as well as how they seemed to position themselves. Shortly after, the king and queen arrived. Leander was dressed for battle, while Theodora wore garments in brown leather meant for riding. A few steps behind them was Hubert as always. They joined the marshal atop the gatehouse.


    Have they said anything? asked Leander.


    Not since I arrived, Leonard muttered.


    Let us not keep them waiting any longer, Theodora said. I am Her Majesty Theodora, queen of Hthiod by the grace of the Seven and Eighth, heir to the county of Lakonia, protector of the marches and rightful ruler of thends upon which you trespass, she called out. Who are you to approach my city in arms?


    Your Majesty, replied the ounder herald, I speak on behalf of Lord Sikandar, appointedmander by the will of Shahriyar, He Who Has Awakened. His Divine Majesty has sent Lord Sikandar to reim thend stolen from our people in days past. He will no longer tolerate the wall your people have built to keep His people from returning to their ancestralnds.


    This city was built by our people, Theodora answered in a strong voice for all to hear. We reject any ims your lords may ce upon it and its surroundingsnds. You have unrightfully waged war against us. Leave, or the full might of the Seven Realms will bear down upon you.


    We do not fear your threats, the herald retorted. Our numbers are endless, and we will no longer be denied what is rightfully ours. My lord Sikandar gives you three days to reconsider, to surrender and open the city gates. Do so, and all will be spared. Do not, and you will bring needless suffering upon the city.


    You may return tomorrow, the day after, in three days time, or in a year, Theodora said calmly, but still loudly. Our only response will be the steel of our swords and arrows.


    You say that now, Your Majesty, the herald spoke. But make full use of the three days. To aid in your decision, my lord Sikandar leaves this gift for you, he finished, gesturing towards the wagon. His message delivered, the herald and his following returned to their lines, leaving the cart behind. Once the delegation had reached the ounder army, all the soldiers swung around and began marching out of sight.


    Well spoken, Your Majesty, Leonard said quietly to Theodora. It is imperative the men feel our resolve is unwavering.


    We are fully aware of the importance of morale, sir knight, Leander said coldly to the marshal and walked with his wife down from the gatehouse. In front of the gate on the inner side of the walls was an open yard. There, the royal couple waited along with the gathered soldiers and curious souls as the marshal sent a small band out to retrieve the cart left by the ounders.


    No animals had been left behind to pull the wagon, so the soldiers had to do that by hand. When they finally pushed and pulled it into the yard and the gate mmed together behind them, a pungent smell gave away its contents. Nheless, they had to approach and see with their own eyes; the marshal walked up as the first and pulled the covers away, revealing several bodies. They were carefully selected too. Sir Reynold, former lord marshal of the Order along with several other knights whose features were clearly visible, most likely why they had been chosen; among their number were also several counts and noblemen of Hthiod, including Stephen, who had been the count of Lakonia.


    A sharp intake of air could be heard from Theodora; Leander reached out one hand towards her arm to keep her back, but she stepped forward nheless and gazed into her fathers dead eyes. Here lies my father, she said, raising her head to let her gaze sweep over the assembled soldiers. They invaded ournds and cut him down, a lord of our people. I must go now to bury him, she added, returning her eyes to look at her fathers cold body. But they wille. And when they do, you will shed a river of blood for each drop of ours, she dered, turning onest time to look at her soldiers. A thousand lives of theirs for each father and son of ours! she demanded, and she was rewarded with mour of agreement and cheers.


    Shes vicious, said one greybeard to a young soldier standing by him. I quite like her, the veteran continued, nodding in acknowledgement.


    A horse was brought and harnessed to the wagon so that it might be brought up the hill and to the temple of Idisea for burial preparations. Behind it walked the king and queen and their protector. At least we have three days before it begins, Leander remarked. He was holding Theodoras hand as they walked.


    I wonder why they would give us that long, Theodora contemted.


    My best guess, Your Majesty, Hubert interceded, that is how long they need to prepare their siege engines. The rest of the journey back to the pce was spent in silence.


    ~~~~


    While the ounders might have given three days in consideration of their terms, they did not spend them idly. The next day, the sentinels spotted them on the horizon. They did not approach the city but began work of some sort under heavy guard. Soon, a stockade began rising as well as other constructions the eye could not discern. What are they doing? asked a soldier. He was not quite tall enough for the tabard he wore, but he looked young enough that he might still grow into it.


    Fortifying their defences, answered the marshal, who was standing nearby. Probably building screens out of wicker or simrly to give cover from our arrows.


    We are not going to do anything about it, sir? asked the young soldier, adding the title as he realised to whom he was speaking.


    Too risky going that far, Leonard shook his head. We cannot know how many men they have hidden. Best we focus on our own preparations, he concluded, turning to gaze inwards at his own fortifications. Along the city wall, numerous lean-tos and simr shelters had sprung up over the years. They were typically made of wood and cloth, quick to burn should mese close, and now soldiers were busy dismantling them.


    Some had been used for storage, and whatever goods they held were being taken elsewhere, reced by barrels of water in case of fire. Some of these shacks held livestock, so the beasts were sent to the butchers; the meat would be salted and added to the food stores while the hides would be tanned and used to protect the roofs of other, more permanent buildings against fire. Lastly, many of these improvised buildings had been home to the homeless. They were driven away, sometimes with kicks and pushes to follow, and forced elsewhere into the lower city.


    Descending the stairs into the courtyard, the marshal surveyed as all space by the wall was cleared. His eyebrows turned into a slight frown as his eyes fell upon a handful of ckrobes. Brother Dominic, he called out to their leader, the court seer. This is no ce for priests, regardless of their position. Thest part was said with a nce towards the pendant that Dominic wore as sign of his rank.


    When we heard you were clearing the shacks by the walls, we thought toe and aid those dispossessed. At least in our temple they may sleep somewhere dry and safe, Dominic exined as some of his brothers shepherded the beggars from the yard, shielding them from the soldiers ushering them away.


    I am surprised to see you here in person, Leonard remarked in a neutral voice.


    I recently learned that I had been remiss in my duties towards the lower circle, Dominic exined while moisturising his lips with his tongue. There is much good we may do here.


    Do not take too long, the marshal cautioned. Soon, there will be missiles hurling through the air and fires breaking out. We do not need any robes caught in between, hampering our efforts.


    We have no intention of such, the court seer replied with a bow. But we must go where our sacred duty takes us, he added and turned to leave with the remainder of his fellow ck-robed priests.


    The marshal watched them leave with an unimpressed face before he returned to his men preparing the city for the siege and barked new orders. Timber and granite, the same stone that was used to construct the walls, were being hauled and stored nearby to be ready for use in repairs. Great bundles of arrows were strategically dispersed along the fortifications along with supplies of torches and braziers to quickly illuminate the area in case of nightly assaults. In this manner, they spent the three days given to them.

 Chapter 30: City under Siege

    Chapter 30: City under Siege


    City under Siege


    Tothmor


    When the ounder herald returned to the walls to receive his answer, an arrow was shot andnded a few feet in front of his horse. He received no other message than this, and together with his retinue, he returned to the stockade built by the ounders. The wooden defences seemed to stretch on for miles, as far as the heathmen could spot standing on their walls. It had several gates, which now all opened. From each of them issued forth severalpanies of red-robed soldiers, but they did not immediately advance. Instead, they moved aside to make way for catapults rolling forward, pulled by spans of horses.


    The Mearcian soldiers strained their eyesight upon the walls as they watched; standing on the gatehouse were Leander and Hubert by the marshals side. What are they doing now? Leander asked as his younger eyes perceived something sooner than hispanions could. Long rows of men came walking forward, past the catapults and into full view of those standing on the walls; they walked awkwardly, however, with very small steps and their arms in front of them. It took a moment longer to realise they were prisoners with not only their hands bound but also their legs, making them unable to run or even take a normal step.


    The men captured from the battle, Hubert muttered as he guessed who they were. Look away,ds, if you do not have the stomach for what happens next. The ounders forced their prisoners onto their knees. A few tried to escape but in vain, and they were quickly dragged back. Several of the red-robed Anausa soldiers stepped forward with axes in their hands, and then the beheadings began.


    Again, several of the bound Mearcians tried to flee as they realised what was taking ce, but it was impossible. The gruesome scene continued to y out, made all the worse by the angle of the blows struck. Since the prisoners were kneeling, the axe-wielding ounders had to strike in an awkward curve and it usually took them several blows to sever the heads. They did not seem to mind this, however, on the contrary; every man watching on the walls got the feeling they dragged it out as much as possible.


    Several of the soldiers in the city bent over the walls and emptied their stomachs, but it was only beginning. Once they were done, two things happened. Some of the ounders collected the severed heads, while others marched out new prisoners. The spectacle continued anew, scores and scores being executed in this fashion. When finally thest had died and the field had be a morass of blood and bodies, the ounders moved on to the next phase. Loading their catapults, they began shooting the first round.


    Their engineers had made excellent calctions, and the very first volleys flew into a perfect arch thatnded just inside the city walls. Raising his shield, Leander felt the missiles striking down against him, but they did notnd with particr force. Looking down to see the munition used by the catapults, waves of nausea passed over Leanders face. The missiles were human heads from the prisoners executed just now in front of their eyes.


    Hold fast, murmured Hubert, standing by Leanders side and likewise raising his shield.


    What sort of animals would do this! Leander burst out before he quickly shut his mouth again.


    Common tactic to demoralise the defenders, Hubert admitted. Saw your father do the exact same one time when he wasying siege.


    The marshal was already walking along the walls, kicking heads down onto the ground. Keep your shields up, Leonard bellowed. They are only sending dead men at us, nothing to fear! The rain from the catapults stopped, and everybody breathed a sigh of relief. Itsted only as long as the ounders needed to load their catapults again, and with the sound of the twinge from their skein reverberating across the field, they shot another volley. Once again, the men cowered behind their shields, not so much from fear of death but rather from dreading the dead.


    All through the day, the ounders kept this going, producing more munition when necessary. Towards the end, the heads they used were in early stages of rotting; some deduced that the ounders had painstakingly collected the heads of the fallen Mearcians from the battle upon the moors. With these extra thousands to load onto their catapults, the ounders kept it raining until nightfall; they only finished and pulled their machines back behind the stockade when it grew dark and the first day of the siege ended.


    ~~~~


    The next day, Leander put on his armour and went down to the walls as he had promised the marshal. Theodora remained in the pce, continuing her duties as ruler; in some ways, her life and tasks continued unaffected by the siege. The old council chamber had been made fit for service again and was upied by Theodora, a scribe receiving her dictates, other servants aiding her, and asionally whoever might be granted leave for a private audience with the queen regnant. Theodoras former counsellor, Irene, had tried to enter once before Theodora had arrived, but the des did not ept any of hermands to step aside; after that incident, Theodora issued an unofficial edict to her guards never to allow Irene entry.


    Buried deep in documents pertaining to inheritance and the session of titles, Theodora was interrupted by her pce stewards entry into the room. Pardon me, Your Majesty, the steward spoke as the queen looked up at him. The high priestess of Idisea is requesting to speak with you.


    Is it not the court seers duties to attend to such? asked Theodora frowning.


    I mentioned that, Your Majesty, answered the steward. She ims it is a matter beyond the court seers authority.


    Very well, show her in, the queen nodded.


    The des stood aside to allow a woman enter wearing a deep-red robe with a ck raven upon it; along the edges of her garments was the customary pattern signalling her high rank within her order. As she stepped inside and spotted Theodora, she bowed before her; in turn, the queen rose and inclined her head in greeting.


    Be weed, Reverend One, Theodora said politely. Sister Tereza, if I am right.


    I am honoured, Your Majesty, the priestess said with another, shorter bow. You are indeed right even if I have never had the pleasure of meeting Your Majesty before.


    I try, Theodora said with an inkling of a wry smile. Tell me, what has brought you before me today?


    It is regarding our duty as the sibyls of this city, Tereza began her exnation. We have been hard at work, not only training newy brothers in preparation of theing days, but also treating the many wounded from the recent battle.


    An invaluable debt that the city owes you, Theodora replied. Is it in the pursuit of this duty youe before me?


    Exactly, Your Majesty, the norn said. To speak inly, we have no room. We have wounded and sick men in the hallways of our temple. The court seer gave us permission to make use of the other temples, since some of them are now rather empty. An ufortable look slid over Terezas face before she continued again. Even then it is not enough. With what we can expect from the siege her voice trailed off, leaving her unfinished words hanging.


    You are asking me to requisition rooms for you? Theodora asked a little puzzled.


    We do not have authority, Your Majesty, the norn exined. But we need lots of rooms for the many wounded toe. Preferably in the upper circles, away from the attacks on the wall.


    Theodora turned to look at her steward, who raised his hands in a gesture of ignorance. What is thergest building in the city? she asked him.


    If not the temples, some of the residences of the nobility in the second circle, the steward answered. Apart from the pce itself, of course.


    Of course, Theodora repeated, the pce. Both the steward and the norn looked at the queen with uncertainty. Some of our wings are not full, are they?


    No, Your Majesty, the steward answered hesitantly. But they are still inhabited in part by the counts and nobles, the courtiers and others. They might object to this arrangement.


    Theodoras lips curled upwards in a contemptuous smile. Let them object all they wish.


    Regardless, even if we fill the rooms up, we may not have space for more than a hundred people, the steward continued.


    We will have need for many hundreds at least, Tereza interjected.


    We must be able to do better, surely, Theodora imed. The king barely spends time in his room. How many courtiers have rooms of their own with separate rooms for their spouses and children?


    I cannot say, the steward said before he continued cautiously. Is Your Majesty saying I should remove the king from his own bedchamber?


    Indeed, Philon, the queen nodded. Have all his belongings moved to the royal chamber. Then inform every member of court that they are all obligated to share their chambers with others. I do not care about the details as long as we make all possible rooms avable. If any should wish to object to that, Theodora said with emphasis on thest word, they will find themselves thrown out of the district. If they are lucky, it will only be the upper one.


    Thank you, Your Majesty, Tereza beamed. We will make preparations at once.


    My pleasure, Theodora smiled back and gave the priestess leave to exit the council chamber. Why do you look so crestfallen, Philon? she continued when the norn was gone.


    I hesitate to say this, he said, but I dread passing this message on to a certain few.


    If the king gives you any grief, send him to me, Theodora said dismissively. I will make him forget he ever had another room.


    Oh, not at all, Philon was quick to say. I was thinking of thedy Irene, who might be  disinclined towards giving up her luxurious rooms. There is also the matter of Lady Diane, who is still confined to her chamber.


    Perhaps we should let them room together, Theodora said with a twinkle in her eyes, though her steward only grew pale. A jest, Philon, a jest. Let Lady Diane be for now, a singr dispensation. As for my aunt Irene, I will ask my mother to be gracious and move in with her.


    Thank you, Your Majesty, Philon mumbled, regaining some colour in his face.


    ~~~~


    It waste in the evening when Leander returned; bells had chimed and announced an end to the second day of the siege when he stepped inside the pce. He was wearing the garb and gear that he brought with him to the walls, and there was dirt on his coat and weariness in his steps, but no blood or otherwise wear upon him.


    The hallways were busy with servants and courtiers alike moving in every direction, and numerous norns with their acolytes, novices, andy brothers were everywhere as well. Leander paid them no heed but moved as if in a daze; walking in full arms with the crest of Hthiod upon his chest that designated his royal rank, all were quick to get out of his way. Thus he reached his room before he realised something was afoot; ncing around, he found it all but empty. Only the bed remained, stripped of linen and reduced to its mattresses.


    Leander stood a while with a confused look. Finally, he shuffled outside and caught the attention of a servant hurrying past. What has happened to my chamber? he asked.


    All your belongings have been moved to the queens chamber, Your Majesty, the servant maid said with a touch of anxiety. By the queens order, she hurried to add.


    Right, Leander nodded absentmindedly, turning towards the royal wing. With a tired gait, he began walking again, once more without paying heed to the turbulent activity around him. When he reached the royal bedchamber, he found the queen already in her nightgown. I seem to have lost my room, Leander said, bing aware of his surroundings again.


    I told the sibyls they may tend to the wounded here in the pce, but we required more space. I thought you would not mind simply sharing my chamber, Theodora exined, cocking her head as she scrutinised her husband.


    Of course, I would stay here regardless, Leander nodded. He nced around until he found his armour rack, which had been given a corner of the room. He moved over towards it and stood in front of the contraption; rather than begin stripping himself of his arms, however, he ended up sitting down in a chair and staring nkly for a moment.


    Leander? Theodora said carefully, moving over to kneel down by his side. She ced both hands on the edge of his shield. Shall I help you remove this? she suggested.


    Oh, right, Leander nodded yet again. The shield was of the slightly elongated shape used by riders or for singr closebat as opposed to the longer, much more elongated shields meant for fighting in ranks. It is rather peculiar. Soon, you forget there is a shield strapped to your arm. It is as if your left arm is just a bit heavier than the right, and you learn to raise the heavy arm when things are flying through the air, he exined, still gazing at nothing in particr.


    Theodora moved to unfasten the leather strapsshed around his arm that kept the shield in ce. When it was undone, she groaned a little under the effort and her awkward lifting position, but managed to put it aside against the wall. Then she unbuckled his belt, pulling it away from him. Do you not have a sergeant? she asked.


    Never even had a valet since I was old enough to get rid of them, Leander smiled, his attention returning to the present momentarily. Thank you, I can manage, he added, standing up and removing his surcoat, his mail shirt, and the tunic below. I should wash, he said in sudden realisation, looking around the room until Theodora pointed out a bowl with water. Standing only in his undergarments, Leander dipped cloth in the water and began washing his upper body with slow, imprecise movements as his gaze grew distant again.


    Allow me, Theodora said softly, taking the cloth from him. She dipped it in water again and started over. As she ran the rag over his face, it seemed to wake him from a dream, and he blinked. His gaze turned downwards at his wife while his lips curled upwards.


    I forgot where I was, he said awkwardly but with a genuine smile. My mind keeps returning to the battlements for some reason.


    Was it hard today? she asked, her voice growing even softer if possible.


    No, Leander shook his head. They still have not attacked. Just the catapults, raining munition down upon us. The marshal said they are trying to wear us down before they make their assault.


    I see, Theodora replied. Well, tonight you are here with me, she told him.


    Yes, Leander nodded slowly. Let us go to bed, he added, and she took his hand, leading him to rest.


    ~~~~


    The siege began in earnest on the third day after the ultimatum had been rejected. While the ounders rolled out their catapults as before, they followed it up with numerous other activities and war machinery as well as marching out their infantry in force. There were no doubts about their intentions now as they took positions, spreading out to cover ground equal to the entire length of the city walls. The call went out from the defenders, summoning the avable reserves; heathmen armed with bows or swords and shields hurried to the battlements. Some had mail shirts, others only leather jerkins. Many wore the tabards with the emblem of Hthiod, typically tattered in some way. They filled the walls, staring south with grave eyes.


    Barrels full of arrows were fetched from nearby storage and distributed along the fortifications by boys old enough to haul but not enough to wield arms. Many remained to peer between the crions in frightful fascination of the amassing enemy before they were ushered away. From the ranks of the ounders came the sound of a horn being blown, an instrument made of some unknown alloy or taken from some beast not known in westernnds. The sound pierced the marrow of the defenders, not merely due to how alien it was to them, but because it signalled the beginning of an advance.


    Thousands of red robes began moving across the open in towards the city. Those with sharpest eyes caught glimpse of siegedders being carried by many of the ounders; the great wicker screens they had erected and ted in animal hides were also being pushed forward, providing cover against arrows. Lastly came the primary instrument of the assault, the reason they had required several days before their attack couldmence. Moving on numerous wheels and pushed by scores of men came a great battering ram. It was built in the shape of a small house; the ram itself was shielded by screens and a roof, all of it resting on a great base onto which the wheels were attached. The roof was covered in animal hides to protect against fire; all things considered, the many men inside were well protected.


    Murmurs spread among the men on the walls at seeing this beast approach. The marshal turned towards one of his attendants and bellowed several orders before turning back towards the enemy. As usual, Leonard was standing on top of the gatehouse, which gave the best view of the surroundings and their defences; the wall was crowned on either side by several towers before finally connecting on both sides with the mountain that served as Tothmors back. Each tower was packed full of archers while men armed for closebat defended the rest of the fortifications. The air was asionally torn by the voices of men calling out orders, but otherwise a hushy over the defenders and attackers alike. The distance was still too great to attack.


    The ounders had not brought their catapults forward all the way considering the possibility of hitting their own forces. Therefore, nothing happened until the red-robed Anausa warriors, whom the Mearcians had learned to respect at the battle of Sikyon, came within bow range. Then the silence was splintered across the area. Hundreds upon hundreds of arrows wereunched from the walls and struck like serpents onto the attackers. They in turn stormed forward with loud battle cries in their own tongue, protecting themselves by raising their shields and rushing towards the walls to take cover below them.


    Many of them fell carrying thedders since they could not properly wield their shields at the same time, but enough reached their destination. They sank the heavy spikes into the ground, stabilising thedders and keeping them from toppling; as they were pushed up against the walls, iron hooks at the top of the construction helped grab on to the wall between the crions.


    Soon, numerousdders of this kind were deployed, and scores of ounders ascended. They were met by swords and axes, and many more fell as soon as they had scaled the walls; in a few ces, however, they gained a foothold and could defend long enough for more of theirrades to follow them up thedders. Where such spots of red took hold, Mearcians kept in reserve were ordered to reinforce and cast them down from the walls, and the archers upon the towers concentrated their arrows upon the ounders waiting to make the climb as well.


    The ounders had previously shown their familiarity with the bow, and now they put their skills to use. Some shot back at the longbowmen standing in the towers, but the high angle and the defences made it difficult to strike any targets, and the oundermanders had other intentions. Standing behind the wicker screens, many of the archers pulled out arrows prepared in a specific way. Near the arrowhead, a small strip of cloth had been tied; it was too light to affect the arch of the arrow much, but it carried a terrible purpose. It had been soaked in pitch and was lit on fire before being shot; its arch was high since it did not aim at the soldiers on the walls but the buildings behind. Quickly, scores of such fire arrows were being shot against the city, drawing defenders away to ensure a potentially devastating fire was not allow to spread.


    The assault born by siegedders and the fire arrows deflected attention, scattering the defenders along the walls as intended. Now the battering ram bore down upon the gate; if breached, it was by far the best point of ess. The ram moved slowly but inexorably forward, surrounded by soldiers hoping to take advantage of when the gate would be smashed open. As the great construction finally reached the gatehouse, the heathmen unleashed one of their defences. The near boiling content of two great cauldrons were tipped over, flowing through grooves and spilling down onto the siege machine. Its roof protected those inside, but great quantities of the liquid spilled over andnded on the men surrounding. It seared fabric and leather, melting flesh and spreading a terrible stench.


    One of the defenders hurled a torch over the wall, and as itnded, the hot oil and pitch was lit ame. Great heat rose up, and further screams could be heard among those unfortunate enough to be caught near. However, while small mes did manage totch onto the roof of the battering ram, it was not enough. The wet animal hides would not ignite properly. The archers on the wall shot their arrows desperately, but no angle would allow them to hit the men operating the ram. Then it began to strike.


    ~~~~


    As the battlemenced, Leander had chosen the gatehouse as his vantage point; being in the centre of Tothmors walls meant that he could with equal speed move east or west, reinforcing the soldiers and raise their morale with the knowledge that their king fought amidst them. Therefore, long before the battering ram came into y, the king had departed with his ever-present guard, Count Hubert, and they had descended to the walls. From time to time, they retreated into a tower to gain a view of the battle and locate their next point of engagement. It was on such an asion that as Leander looked west towards the section of wall between them and the next tower, he saw threatening circles of red expanding; the Anausa soldiers were pushing the Mearcians back in conquest of the wall.


    Leander threw his head towards the danger to signal it to Hubert; in the maelstrom of battle, such gestures were easier formunication than words. The captain of the des nodded and followed his charge down the stairs as they descended from the gatehouse onto the wall section. A handful of ounders had formed a circle around where thedder hadtched onto the stonework and were defending it. For Blood and Blue! Leander yelled as loudly as he could, calling out the battle cry of his house. It, along with the blue flower upon his crest, had been chosen by his ancestor; the same man who had defeated thest ounder invasion five hundred years ago and been granted the kingship of Hthiod as reward. Storming forward upon the walls of Tothmor in defence against red robes and ck boots, it seemed there had never been a more appropriate time to let it sound.


    The hearts of the pressed heathmen were lifted as they recognised the royal emblem upon Leanders shield and armour, and they roared in renewed battle lust. For Blood and Blue! they repeated, pushing forward against the ounders. Swords hammered against shields and armours, and blood was shed. Although leading the charge to retake the small area of the wall, Leander did not keep at the forefront. He mostly used his shield to defend himself while Hubert surged past him. Any signs of age were invisible as the count of Esmarch threw himself into battle. His shield denied any attacks against him, and his de struck down enemies with each blow. Spurred on by his example, the Mearcians retook the wall and ughtered any remaining Anausa soldiers.


    Turning towards thedder, it was too firmly nted that Hubert could push it down, especially since he could not let go of his sword and shield, and already new ounders were preparing to scale the wall. Taking sight of this, the count jumped up to stand between the crions where the siegedder hooked onto the wall. Forgetting about the top piece made of iron, Hubert crouched low and aimed numerous blows against the wooden framework below as well as the steps of thedder. It demanded several intensive strikes with the sword, and towards the end, Hubert was hacking away almost blindly until finally the wood shattered.


    With the top steps destroyed, thedder was rendered useless. Arrows aimed at him made it clear to Hubert that he was an obvious target standing between the crions, and he jumped down behind the wall to loud cheers from the defenders. For good measure, a few of them grabbed the remaining top piece of thedder, now severed from the rest; while the hooks had prevented it from being pushed back, they could now pull it towards them. Once clear of the stonework, they were able to throw it back over the wall.


    That belongs to you! some wit yelled, eliciting a few coarseughs.


    How in Hels name did you survive past the age twenty? Leander asked in disbelief.


    You are never more alive than when killing a man before he can kill you, Hubert replied with a grin.


    Theughter and morbid mirth evaporated as the king, the count, and the soldiers nced out against the enemy. For a moment, they had forgotten about the battering ram, but even from a distance, they felt the tremors of its assault. The king and his attendants ran towards the gatehouse, but they were too far away to reach it in time to stop the siege machine from its task.


    Such was the force of the contraption that it felt as if the entire gatehouse shook under the relentless ramming. It could not be stopped; arrows, oil and pitch, fire, stones being thrown down from above, nothing had an effect. The ounders pressed together close by, waiting eagerly for the breach to be made. The gate began to break under the endless assault; the hinges bent and became distorted, unable to keep their charge in ce. The first cracks ran across the timber; then they spread swiftly with each subsequent strike. Finally, the crossbeams keeping the gate together fell to the pressure. With a thundering noise, the gate burst open.


    As this happened, the marshals countermeasure was revealed. In the yard stood the remaining horses in the city, mounted by riders with long spears. The marshal himself rode in front, followed by the handful of knights that had escaped with the army following the battle. They spurred their horses forward the moment that the gate was breached. It required unparalleled equestrian skills through the narrow opening below the gatehouse and at such speed, but the marshal and the knights who remained after Sikyon were up to the task.


    They were also aided by how the battering ram and general chaos hindered the Anausa from moving efficiently into the breach, not to mention the Hthian longbowmen raining arrows upon those trying to reach the gate. As those in front were met by horsemen and forced back, they collided with their own brethren pushing from behind. The result was that the ounder footmen were crushed attempting to storm forward, and the handful of Mearcian riders were swiftly supported by several scores of foot soldiers.


    With fierce war cries, the Mearcian infantry surged forward as well, conquering the area around the gatehouse. Several men with axes attacked the battering ram itself, severing the ropes that allowed it to swing, and then turned their weapons on the beams that kept the roof up. Within a few moments, the meticulously assembled siege machine was demolished. Arge jar of pitch was brought and thrown onto the destroyed remains, sshing everywhere on the unprotected wood. While the ounders had outfitted the roof with animal hides to keep it from burning, the insides of the ram were not simrly treated; with the addition of pitch and a torch, it now burned merrily. Apanied by great cheers and mour, the Mearcians retreated inside the wall.


    Timbery nearby, intended for repairs of the gate. As it was all but destroyed, such was impossible. Lacking better options, the timber was simply piled up below the gatehouse in the shape of a barricade many feet thick. With a satisfied expression, the marshal walked up the gatehouse to take in the sight of the ounder assault. In front of him rose smoke from the burning battering ram, forcing him to cough and cover his face; nheless he was able to smile. The destruction of the siege engine and being constantly thrown down from the walls had extinguished the ounders lust for battle. The eerie sounds of their horns gave a long, drawn-out note, and the red robes retreated. Although the assault had onlysted some hours, it had taken its toll on both sides; it was a promise of days toe.


    ~~~~


    The ounders spent the next day in camp. Apart from sending out the usual patrols and keeping sharp watch over the city, they made no moves. They did not repeat the barrage from their catapults either, perhaps because they had received a taste of the feared Mearcian cavalry charge and would not risk it. Whatever the cause, the defenders of the city were given a chance to rest, take care of their wounded, destroy any siegedders left behind in the retreat, and haul stone from their stores to make necessary repairs. Night fell before they couldplete this task, however, and the work was dyed. When morning came, so did the ounders.


    This time, they showed greater caution. The catapults were pushed into range, and they began sending showers of stone against the defenders forced to endure this. The ounders had also spent yesterday building more screens to protect themselves from the Hthian longbows and now spread these out along the assault front. With these preparations, the ounders were happy to wait for hours and simply watch as the catapults rained rocks upon the walls. Only when the sun was near noon and the heat intensified did they sound their horns and signal a new attack.


    The catapults became still only to be reced by arrows unleashed from both sides. New siegedders were brought forward; once more, the ounders attempted to scale the walls. Fire arrows! somebody shouted as the ounders repeated their method from before and began shooting ming arrows inside the city. The damage done was limited, though, since most of the buildings within reach had been prepared for this eventuality, and the rest had already burned the other day during the first assault. Volunteers stood ready with nkets and barrels of water, risking themselves to put out the fires.


    The storm upon the walls was less fierce. With more wicker screens, arger part of the ounders remained behind them and used their bows. Any section of the wall not being scaled was subjected to a heavy barrage of arrows instead, and the shields borne by many of the defenders soon resembled porcupines. It was still rtive safe atop the towers and the gatehouse, however, where few arrows could reach. Leander watched the scenery from this position, nked by the count of Esmarch on one side and the marshal on the other.


    They are approaching us, Hubert pointed out in the loud voice necessary with the sounds of battle raging. A contingent of the Anausa with wicker screens andrge shields were moving cautiously towards the gatehouse, protecting themselves from the defending archers.


    They have nothing with which to climb our walls, Leander pondered. All they achieve is being exposed to our archers.


    They brought fire, Hubert replied. I saw men with torches. Prepare for fire arrows! he bellowed behind him to the men gathered in the yard below.


    But most of their arrows will nce off the gatehouse harmlessly, the marshal frowned.


    In front of them and below, they witnessed ranks of ounders breaking into sprint, leaving the rtive safety of their archery screens. They hastened forward to reach the minimal cover under the walls and directly below the gatehouse, where the angle did not allow the defending archers to strike them. Apart from their typical weapons, some of the Anausa carried long spears, others had axes, and curiously, some had torches and jars with an unknown substance.


    They are doing to the barricade what we did to the ram, the marshal mumbled, too low for the others to understand. Prepare the oil! he yelled, turning to some of the soldiers.


    It will not be hot in time, shouted one of the men in return. They had lit a fire below to heat up the cauldron, but it was slow going.


    Never mind, just keep it ready to spill, and fire too, Leonard ordered. But do not release before mymand! he specified and ran down the steps into the yard, already bellowing further orders to his men.


    Leander and Hubert remained on the gatehouse, but they did not have line of sight to the ounders directly below them. What are they doing? asked Leander, which none could answer. He ran to the opposite side of the tower, gazing down onto the yard below. Leonard was marshalling forces together, arranging the ranks. On asion, arrows managed to get past, and this threat along with the sounds of battle reaching them made several of the soldiers skittish. It was impossible for Leander to hear what was spoken, but he saw the marshal give directions to some of the men-at-arms; some of these veterans stayed, keeping discipline, while others dispersed. That was when smoke could be smelled by the men near the gatehouse.


    They have set fire to the barricade, Hubert informed his young king as he appeared by Leanders side.


    How long will it take to burn through?


    Hours, I would think, but they brought axes as well, the count exined and then borated as he saw the confused look upon his lieges face. The timber is hardened, Hubert said. Slow to burn and nearly as strong as iron to cut through with an axe. But you throw oil on it and make it burn hot, and then your axes have an easier time.


    How long before they break through? Leander asked rmed, panic spreading on his face.


    Maybe less than an hour, Hubert guessed with a grim expression.


    Should we be down there? Leander asked. If they get through the gate, the fighting will be hardest in that ce.


    Perhaps, Hubert spoke hesitantly, Your Majesty should consider retreating to the fourth district.


    Retreating? Leanders expression turned to one of disbelief. Wait, did you just address me by my title? he asked.


    We are severely outnumbered, Hubert admitted. If we cannot keep them from breaching the walls, the city will fall.


    All the more reason that is where I should be, Leander insisted.


    It will not matter, boy, Hubert all but yelled. Your presence in the yard will not matter.


    There is no need, called a voice out. It belonged to Leonard, the marshal. Remain here, Your Majesty. The fighting below will be chaotic. I consider it best you stay on the battlements.


    I will take your advice, Leander conceded. But what are we going to do? They are destroying the barricade!


    Patience, Your Majesty, the knight counselled. Are you ready at the oil? he asked his men.


    Still not hot, sir, a soldier replied.


    Never mind that, just release on my order, the marshal told them. He walked over to the edge of the parapet, the side looking inwards at the city and his men in the yard below.


    It took a while, but at length the ounders burst through. The remainder of the barricade was smashed, and red robes stormed forward into the yard beyond the gatehouse. The order to charge came from the Mearcian men-at-arms inmand, and the defenders advanced to sh with the ounders.


    Release! the marshal shouted and the great cauldrons containing the oily mixture were tipped. The fluid was poured all over the ground in front of the gatehouse. It was not fully heated, however, and the Anausa soldiers below onlyughed at this as it struck their shields or armours without the same deadly effect as it had on other days. Then Leonard threw a torch over the wall. Although cold, the mixture retained all its mmable properties.


    A few of the red robes were engulfed in mes while the rest had been wise enough to avoid being struck. However, they could do nothing to prevent the wall of fire suddenly rising in front of the breached gate yet behind the Anausa who were inside. This meant no further ounders could surge past the walls and reinforce the ounders already fighting in the yard; they were caught between the mes and the defenders, ughtered with terrible screams. That should buy us some time, the marshal muttered and shouted to his own men below in the yard. Bring the stones! Seal it up!


    The second part of Leonards defensive n was enacted. The great blocks of granite, quarried with great difficulty from the mountain and kept to be used in repairs, were pushed with equal hardship towards the breach below the gatehouse. Although rough-hewn and not fitted for this particr purpose, the rocks managed to fill the opening adequately; neither fire nor axes would have any effect on this new barricade.


    With their efforts to break through the gate once more defied, the ounders sounded the retreat again. The assault hadsted a shorter while than the previous one, and the defenders were visibly encouraged by this. Cheers and gestures of victory were heard and seen across the fortifications. As Leander descended the stairs from the gatehouse, many soldiers chanted his name; he raised his hand in recognition of the gesture, eliciting further shouts of approval.


    Licking his dry lips, Leander walked over to one of the storehouses where the barrels of water and nkets were kept for fighting fire. Several men, women, and some so young they might still be called children were there, the volunteers that stopped the ounders fire arrows from doing too much damage. Everybodys eyes flew open as they recognised the royal crest upon Leanders arms, and all but one shied away.


    With his own look of surprise, Leander recognised the young man who did not shrink in the kings presence. Troy, he burst out.


    Your Majesty, the bard said with a wry smile. To what do we owe this honour?


    I came to thank you all for your efforts, naturally, Leander said solemnly, ncing around. And I am bloody parched, he eximed.


    The water is rationed, a nearby guard called out; his eyes were elsewhere and he had clearly not noticed to whom he spoke. Another guard elbowed him hard.


    Whatever Your Majesty needs, the other guard stammered, but Leander rose his hand in a gesture of rejection.


    Rations apply to all, the king said, some reluctance shining through in his voice. Troy, the assault is over, we can return home. You can apany me back to the pce, Leander suggested. As he stepped outside the small storehouse where Hubert waited, Troy followed suit. How are your quarters? Leander asked as they began walking.


    They are great, Troy answered. Though I think your steward is still reeling from the thought that there is an actual bard living at court, he added with a grin.


    Just refrain from ying any of your songs where he can hear you, or he will truly get suspicious, Leander remarked. In return, Troynded a punch at his friends shoulder, forgetting it was protected by armour, and he winced. Careful you do not break your fingers, Leander continued, even if that might enhance your ability to y an instrument.


    Troy made another fist but thought better of it and merely scowled. How are you, Lord Hubert? he changed the subject, ncing over his shoulder at the count, who was walking a few steps behind.


    Never better, boy, Hubert replied as he walked with a lightness in his steps that confirmed the veracity of his answer.


    How is the fighting at the walls? Troy asked quietly, directed at Leander.


    You have no need to envy us, Leander gave a mirthless smile. Though I imagine your position has its own share of danger.


    It is a little frightening to imagine arrows striking down at you, Troy admitted. But they rarelye close. And once there is a fire to put out, we are quickly too upied to be afraid.


    Wish I could say the same, Leander muttered. Troy, he continued in a quiet voice, there is something I want you to do. If it bes pertinent.


    What is it?


    It took Leander a moment to gather himself. You know where the royal chambers are in the pce?


    I havent been there, Troy shrugged, but I know where the royal wing is, of course. They had passed through the fourth district and reached third. Around them, many priests, priestesses, andy brothers were busy moving wounded to the temples or to the pce.


    If the outer walls are breached, Leander spoke as they stepped in and out among the many injured soldiers being carried around, go immediately there. Do not hesitate but run.


    Very well, Troy consented, refraining from asking further questions. They continued in silence until they reached the innermost circle. Want to y dice? Troy suggested as they approached the pce. I have half a wineskin we can share.


    Too tired, Leander said, shaking his head. See you at the evening meal instead. With this, the three men separated as each moved to his own chamber.


    ~~~~


    As before, the ounders did not attack on the day following their failed assault. They mostly remained in their camp, though they rolled out their catapults and began a new bombardment of the city. Nearby were variouspanies of Anausa infantry, posing a threat and forcing the Mearcians to man the walls and endure the catapults lest they leave the fortifications undefended and vulnerable to a sudden assault. Leander, Hubert, and Leonard stood amidst the crions on the gatehouse, their battered shields raised with each hailstorm of stones striking.


    Judging the risk of an actual attack as very low, the marshal had allowed most soldiers to remain deeper inside the city and rest, and only a skeleton crew manned the walls. It was deemed important for morale, however, that themanders were seen defying the ounders and their missiles, so the king and the marshal of Hthiod remained on the gatehouse, visible to all nearby.


    Meanwhile in the pce, the effects of the siege were beginning to show; not merely due to the restrictions on food and drink in ce, but also because the norns had filled several wings with wounded. Due to the geography of Tothmor, those requiring long-term or more intensive care were brought to the pce, opening room in the lower-lying temples for new wounded to be brought after each assault on the walls.


    There were not nearly enough beds, however; first, all spare mattresses had been ced directly on the floors. Then spare nkets stacked together, and finally hay had been brought in from the stables before that area had been turned into a hospital ward as well; there were no horses left to stable.


    Aided by her steward and a few of the norns working as liaisons between the priestesses and the pce, Theodora had supervised the transformation of her pce. After ordering her courtiers to share their rooms, she had taken a step further by stripping all rooms of half their beds, forcing the upants to share the remainder. The gardens and orchards were a source of relief in the summer from the hot pce chambers and thus often used by the nobility, but Theodora had given the priestesses exclusive ess; now tents were raised everywhere to house the injured.


    There had been murmurs of discontent among the courtiers due this decrease in their privileges, and a few had daredin to the queen. Theodora had promised to address their concerns at the following evening meal. Her response had been to point out that every member of court was a guest of the Crown; if any were unsatisfied with the amodations provided for them, they were free to leave the inner circle. Shouldints continue to persist, the choice whether to remain or leave would be made for them. There were still murmurs and whispers in the corners, but with the watchful gazes of the Queens des everywhere, none spoke openly against Theodoras decisions.


    Theodora was on her way to the council chamber when she was intercepted by the high priestess of Idisea. Sister Tereza, I presume it is no coincidence you are here waiting for me? asked the young queen.


    No, Your Majesty. We are most grateful for all you have done to aid us, the norn began to exin.


    But you require something else, I sense, Theodora interjected.


    Indeed, Your Majesty, Tereza said with a relieved look. Apart from food, water, and beds, above all we need bandages to keep wounds clean and healing faster. We have used all the linen from our sheets and shirts. We have only our woollen robes left, which cannot be used. Theodora exchanged a puzzled nce with her steward, and the norn continued quickly. Wool would leave frayed pieces in the wound, disturbing the healing process. Only certain fabrics such as linen can be used for bandages.


    What about silk? asked Theodora.


    Silk is certainly considered the best material, Tereza replied, and the knights of the Order do carry silk bandages as part of their equipment. But we have already been to the Order garrison, and they have none left.


    Follow me, Theodoramanded and turned on her heel. Returning to her bedchamber, Theodora grabbed one end of her silken sheets and pulled it off the bed, throwing it on the floor in the centre of the room. Afterwards she opened the doors to her grand wardrobe and began pulling out all sorts of dresses, adding them to the pile.


    A start, at least, Theodora said. I am certain that there are others in the pce who can make simr sacrifice. Philon, she continued, turning towards her steward who stood shielding his eyes with one hand. Philon, what on earth are you doing?


    It is not befitting for a servant of my position to have such inspection of his mistress clothes, the steward said, making a show out of avoiding any looks towards the pile of clothes.


    I am not wearing them, Philon, they are just lying on the floor, Theodora said dismissively. Tell all the courtiers to donate at least half their clothes to the sisters, she instructed the steward. If they will not do so willingly, I will have the des go through their chambers and do it for them.


    Yes, Your Majesty, the steward said with a bow and left the chamber while still averting his eyes.


    Thank you, Your Majesty, Tereza said with a bow to the queen. We are most grateful.


    You are quite wee, Theodora smiled. Everything I take from the courtiers and give to the soldiers, I consider a victory of its own, she added wryly and left the room, returning to the council chamber.


    For gods sake, Philon, speak up, the queenmanded as her servant returned with an anxious expression.


    Yes, Your Majesty, her steward answered. Is Her Majesty certain that she wishes to coerce her courtiers into losing further privileges? Many of the counts are murmuring at this. I have heard that Count Larisa is trying to gather support to see the document that proimed Her Majesty eligible to be crowned. If they could somehow find w in that document, they might question the validity of Her Majestys rule, the servant said nervously.


    I can imagine who is pulling Larisas threads, Theodora said displeased. Does Lykia have the ears of any of my other vassals?


    I could imagine that Count Argolis and Count Leukas are listening yet not necessarily agreeing, Philon contemted. They both have certain wishes concerning sessions of their own that might weigh heavier.


    Find out what they want and whether we can give any promises that will make them deaf towards Lykia, Theodoramanded.


    I shall, Your Majesty, Philon replied with a nod. As for your decision to have your courtiers give their wardrobes away? It may be one push too many for some, the steward said cautiously.


    Theodora spent a moment considering it. You think I should abandon it?


    I think Her Majesty should consider carefully how much she demands of her subjects, Philon said.


    Theodora bit her lower lip in contemtion. Tell them it is voluntary. I will make no demand, merely a request. Of course, should they wish to earn their queens good will, they will be generous, she specified.


    Yes, Your Majesty, Philon bowed.


    ~~~~


    While the day was spent thus in the upper circle, the Mearcians remained defensive in the lower circle. When daylight had faded and darkness began to fall, Leander left his position on the walls and walked down the yard. He stopped upon witnessing that rather than disbanding his forces for the night, the marshal gathered several of the most experienced veterans and men-at-arms. Sir Leonard? Leander said questioning. I thought we were leaving to rest for the night?


    It is time to use the tunnels, the marshal said lowly. The enemy thinks that with our gate blocked, we are all but trapped. We will emerge northwest of here and can raid their camp. Hopefully destroy those sted catapults.


    A definite victory if such can be achieved, Leander nodded. Will you lead the sortie yourself, Sir Leonard?


    The marshal shook his head. My ce is here even if that makes me seem a coward.


    None could think so, Leander interceded. The city would have fallen long ago were it not for you.


    This made the old knight nce at the young king, and he nodded slightly. Thank you, Your Majesty. I will send a score of our men-at-arms, led by one of the knights. Just have to decide who is most suitable.


    I would dly undertake this task, Hubert suddenly dered, stepping forward to stand next to Leander.


    I have no doubt, the marshal responded dryly. But your ce is by the king.


    Oncebat erupts out there in the night, you will want the most experienced, cool-headed warrior in charge, Hubert retorted. Not to mention we might quickly be outnumbered. Are any of your knights better in a fight than me? he asked, sending Leonard a challenging look.


    No, came the reluctant reply. But if you die, His Majesty is robbed of his most valuable protector.


    There are other des who can take my ce, Hubert imed. But for a task such as this, I am the best suited.


    The marshal stood wavering and finally looked towards Leander. Your Majesty? he said questioningly. When Leander simply looked back at him puzzled, the aged knight continued. Will you ept the count Esmarch leading the men?


    Surprise flooded Leanders face as it became clear the marshal was deferring to his judgement. I trust Lord Hubert, he finally said. If he considers it best, I agree with him.


    Very well, Leonard conceded. I will show you the entrance to the tunnel, and you may lead the men, Lord Hubert. It will take you directly north of the enemy stockade. Destroy their catapults and retreat.


    As youmand, Hubert grinned. Perhaps I should bring the des, however. They are well suited for suchbat where confusion reigns.


    That I cannot ept, the marshal proimed. The court has proven itself a nest of vipers, and the des keep them under control. I will not suffer the innermost circle to be left without guards while all my focus is on defending the outermost circle. We cannot risk any further attempts of pce revolts undermining our efforts to defend this city.


    As you wish, Hubert epted with a nod. He shed another smile. Show me the tunnel.


    After having dispatched Hubert and the soldiers, the marshal returned to the outer walls. He joined Leander on one of the western towers as they gazed out into the darkness. Nothing could be seen except for a few flickering torches belonging to the ounders guarding their palisades and outer defences. There was nothing they could do but wait. As they did, none spoke; tension was almost palpable, and there were no words to dispel it.


    Finally, sounds reached them across the distance. They were hard to distinguish, but the sh of metal could be discerned. Too soon, the marshal muttered. That is too soon, he repeated ominously. What sounded like a scream burst through the air, but it was impossible to tell its origin.


    Leanders hands gripped the edge of the crions until his knuckles turned white. What is happening? he finally asked, but it was a question none could answer. Finally and without a word, the marshal turned and hastened down the narrowdder that led to the insides of the tower; he was soon followed by Leander.


    Moving through the narrow passageways at a neck-breaking pace, Leonard made his way down onto the yard behind the walls. As he did this, he beckoned for nearby guards and watchmen to follow him; then the marshal crossed the yard quickly towards the westernmost point where the fortifications met the mountain ridge, extending like a limb from the main body of Mount Tothmor. A small, unassuming door was built into the tower that guarded this section, although it did not grant ess to the battlements. It was also heavily reinforced with iron and with a strong lock andtch, so it could not be opened from the other side.


    It took Leonard a while to open the door; despite its small size, the old marshal struggled to pull its great weight until a soldier gave him a hand. As it finally swung open, the door revealed only an entrance intoplete darkness. They peered into it, and Leander took a step back with his hand upon his sword hilt, giving himself a little distance to the opening; nothing could be seen, however. They heard loud noises like stone hitting stone; it was not unlike the barrage of the catapults against the walls.


    After that came the sound of footsteps running. The soldiers who had gathered before the tunnel entrance gripped their weapons and steeled themselves, spreading out in a concave formation to surround the opening. The first man came through, and for a moment, he was in danger of being skewered by a dozen spears and swords; then they recognised his tabard as belonging to Hthiod and everybody rxed. Half a score more men followed him, and the count of Esmarch came as thest.


    What happened? Leonard eximed upon seeing him. Are you being pursued?


    Hubert shook his head. We copsed the tunnel behind us, crushing the wooden framework as we retreated. The tunnel is permanently sealed.


    At least it does not pose a danger then, the marshal granted. But what happened?


    We were discovered, one of the retreating men-at-arms burst out. Bloody bastards knew we wereing! This deration caused a roar among the soldiers, but Hubert raised his hand tomand silence.


    If they knew about the tunnels, they would have used them to get inside the city long ago rather than throw their men at the walls, he argued, which made the men see sense. No, it was the ursed ckboots keeping watch. They have eyes like cats. Their watch is kept more sternly than we anticipated.


    Did you get near their camp? The siege engines?


    No, Hubert admitted. We did not get far from the tunnel exit, and then half our men died quickly. We sent a few of these bastards to apany our own fallen, he said, looking down upon his red-stained de, but in the darkness it was a lost cause. I had to call the retreat.


    It was a worthy attempt, the marshal imed, but the defeated looks upon his soldiers faces did not change.


    Leander moved to the counts side, ncing over his surcoat and armour. Are you hurt? he asked.


    Not a scratch, Hubert smiled. Well, a bruise on my shoulder from when the tunnel copsed, but that does not count. Come, boy, we have earned our rest tonight. The men dispersed, each seeking his own bed to gain what sleep could be caught before dawn.


    ~~~~


    Following the failed sortie, the ounders renewed their assaults. They had abandoned their designs on breaching the gate and were resigned to brute tactics, scaling the walls with siegedders and simply overwhelming the defenders. They enacted their assaults in two steps. Firstly, barrages from their catapults and archers. Then, when the heathmen seemed sufficiently softened up, they attacked the walls directly and attempted to take control of them. Eventually the Mearcians would repulse them, and new showers of stones and arrows wouldmence until another assault would be attempted.


    The cost in human life to the ounders was steep, but the defenders paid heavily too; the constant threat of the walls being assaulted forced them to endure the ounders bombardments. The heathmen attempted to shoot back with their own archers, but they were running low on skilled bowmenpared to the enemy, and they had to conserve them for when the ounders made another attempt at the walls and were within easy range.


    This continued all through the day as long as there was sunlight to see by, and when a new day dawned, the ounders repeated their tactics from before. Again and again, the heathmen repelled the attackers, and the ground on both sides of the walls were littered with the dead. As the city held through another of these days, the ounders were not deterred and returned to make new attempts the day after.


    At the end of the third day of such repeated assaults, Leander walked down the steps from the battlements. His sword was mostly clean except for a few drops of blood sprayed upon it, though his surcoat was bing ragged in many ces. He found a spot where he could sit down without being in the way, inhaling deeply and regaining hisposure. Close by stood the count of Esmarch, meticulously cleaning his sword. Once he had the strength for it, Leander looked up and his gaze swept over the yard. Everywhere, soldiers were moving in all directions; slowly, sluggishly, either because they were injured, moving other injured soldiers, or simply because they were exhausted.


    Apart from the soldiers and volunteers, there was a plethora of coloured robes. ck, red, blue, green, brown, and even a few yellow robes belonging to the various brothers and sisters of the religious orders. An expression of surprise was briefly to be seen on Leanders face as he recognised the court seer carrying a stretcher together with a green-robed priestess up the road towards the temples. Whenever Leander saw one of the norns in their dark red robes, he felt a start go through him; the simrity to the robes worn by the Anausa soldiers was unsettling.


    Sitting close by on a crate was the marshal. Taking a deep breath, Leander stood up and walked over to Leonard, sitting down on the crate next to him. Are you hurt, Sir Leonard?


    Just old, the grizzled knight admitted. My bones and limbsin more and more each morning.


    Hopefully none of us will have to endure this much longer, Leander said tentatively.


    Hopefully, was the only response received.


    Sir Leonard, do you have an estimate as to when we might expect relief forces to arrive?


    I cannot quite say, Your Majesty, Leonard replied evasively.


    I understand it is hard to be certain, Leander said, but the men keep asking me. They know that Korndale was told toe to our aid, and they think that this, he continued while thumping his chest with the royal emblem upon it, means I know anything about war. I need to know what I can tell our soldiers.


    Mobilisation can be a slow affair, Leonard answered indecisively. And then the march and surveying the situation. Who can tell?


    You would be the most qualified person to make an assumption, Leander said in an insisting manner. Are we talking weeks, a month?


    The aged marshal had so far been staring out into the yard, but now he finally turned to look at his king. With a lengthy sigh, Leonard spoke after he had nced around to see if anybody was within earshot. You have proven your mettle, Your Majesty, so I will be honest with you, and perhaps you can better determine what to answer when that question is posed. The truth is I do not believe Korndale ising to relieve us, the marshal admitted in a low voice.


    What? Leander eximed and quickly lowered his voice as well. But they were ordered! King Adrd and their marshal, I was told they were ordered to relieve us!


    By Sir Reynold, who is dead, Leonard pointed out. I do not think King Adrd will honour hismitment in this regard.


    That is treason against the Alliance, the king hissed. Even I know as much.


    The Alliance is enforced by the Megas Basileus, the knight retorted. There is no high king alive or a lord marshal for that matter. None can punish Korndale for this.


    But there will be, Leander argued. If not now thenter.


    And if the new basileus is named Adrd? the marshal questioned.


    I do not understand, Leander frowned.


    Something Sir William said to me in counsel. King Adrd is a cautious man, his army is notrge. Pitting it against the ounders is dangerous. But Adalrik is embroiled in civil war, and he has a im upon the Dragon Crown. If Korndale mobilises, it will be to march north and put himself on the throne of Adalrik, of Adalmearc. Then none can punish him for noting to our aid.


    Leander sat stunned at this revtion for a moment. But what are we fighting for? he eximed. Our men are dying while we wait for relief that will never arrive!


    Every day the ounders assault us this way, they lose hundreds of men, Leonard said harshly.


    And our own die in equal measure! it burst from Leander and he stood up, burning with indignation.


    That is not all! the marshal quickly dered, standing up as well and raising his hand in a gesture meant to calm Leander. Once the ounders take this city, they will have winter quarters. More than that, they will have a bridgehead for further incursions into Hthiod and the rest of Adalmearc, the marshal exined as swiftly and intently as he could while still keeping his voice down. If we dy them long enough, perhaps we can prevent that they are able tounch any further campaigns before winter. We will buy the realms months worth of time.


    Time for what? Leander said bitterly. Adalrik is in chaos, there is no basileus to demand the other realms to aid us. If Korndale, who should fear the ounders as much as us, will not help us, who will?


    I cannot say, the marshal admitted. Your Majesty, for more than thirty years I have been marshal of Hthiod,bating the ounders. I will carry out every military action that serves that purpose. If that will be enough, if we will be reinforced or at leas

 Chapter 31: Days of the Raven

    Chapter 31: Days of the Raven


    Days of the Raven


    Tothmor


    Each morning after Leander had departed to take up position at the walls, Theodora moved to the council chamber. On the tenth day of the siege, she was barely out of the royal wing when her steward approached her. Philon, she greeted him with a nod. You are eager to see me this morning.


    Your Majesty, he answered with a bow and fell into pace next to her. Count Argolis told mest night, but I did not wish to disturb you. He intends to proceed withying im to Sithonia on behalf of his eldest son.


    He knows I am opposed to it, Theodora said, her voice reverberating between anger and weariness. I will not allow his son to rule two counties.


    s, we have not been able to find any stronger chain of inheritance, the steward said with regret. If you forbid this, you cannot do so founded inw.


    And Lykia will have another discontent nobleman on his side, Theodora sighed. Though if I forced my will, what could they do in retaliation? If they think Leander will take their side, they are sorely mistaken.


    You are the queen, Philon agreed, though he spoke hesitantly. Still, it is unwise to antagonise your vassals, Your Majesty. Especially with the enemy at our doors.


    Very well, Theodora conceded, we will work out apromise. Suggest to the count Argolis that his second son is given the county, but on the condition that he forfeits all rights to his fathersnds instead.


    I will convey your wishes, Philon promised. Though Count Leukas may consider it a breach of your promise to secure his sisters son anded title, the steward pointed out.


    Maybe I will consider giving up Lakonia, Theodora said contemtively and stopped walking as the sound of low, mumbling voices reached them.


    Your Majesty? Philon said questioningly.


    I will not have time to administrate the fief regardless, Theodora continued to say, her voice trailing off. Do you hear somebody speaking? she asked, ncing towards some of the open doors in the corridor.


    The sisters moved several soldiers here yesterday, the steward exined to her. In the kings former chambers from the sounds of it.


    Go on ahead without me, Theodora told Philon. Have my secretary draft the documents for Argolis should he agree.


    As youmand, Philon said with a bow and left her alone in the corridor.


    Theodora in turn entered the chamber that had once served as her husbands personal quarters. None of his possessions remained except for the bed; instead, the room had been filled with many other beds of various materials. All of them were upied by men in bandages; their wounds all seemed of such severe nature, they were not able to stand. One of them was whispering, which was among the sounds that Theodora had heard before. Water, he whispered. Water. Water. Over and over again. Turning towards him, Theodora saw that his eyes had been bandaged. Looking around, the queen saw a pitcher of water. She filled a tin cup and approached the man.


    I have water, she said to alert him, and he turned his blindfolded face towards her. She ced one hand on his cheek to steady him and brought the cup to his lips, letting him drink.


    Thank you, he said hoarsely, sinking back into his bed.


    You are wee, Theodora replied, looking around at the other injured men. One of themy with his head wrapped in red-stained cloth. His eyes were open, but they stared with a ssy look into the empty air. Are you thirsty? Theodora asked, trying to gain his attention. He did not respond or even acknowledge that she had spoken to him. He simplyy, gazing into nothingness.


    A noise at the entrance made Theodora turn, and she saw a young priestess enter carrying bundles of fabric. cing them on the table where the pitcher of water was, the norn noticed the other woman. Oh, she eximed and began straightening the folds of her red robe. Your Majesty, she quickly added, bowing deeply.


    Are you their caretaker? Theodora asked. He was thirsty. I gave him water, she said with a gesture towards the blindfolded soldier.


    I am sorry, Your Majesty, the priestess stuttered. I had to tend to the others first, and then get cloth to change their bandages, and


    Theodora raised a hand to silence the flow of words. No need to exin, I was only wondering. Do you have many soldiers in your care?


    About fifty or so, was the reply. It was ten only three days ago, but they keep bringing more.


    What is your name? Theodora asked kindly.


    I am Sister Zoe, the norn said blushing, bowing slightly again.


    What were youing here to do?


    Here to check their dressings and rece them if necessary. Keep the wounds clean.


    You do this every morning?


    Yes, Your Majesty.


    It sounds like you could use a hand, Theodora said, pulling her sleeves back.


    The young norn starred at the queen in disbelief. Your Majesty?


    You will have to show me how it is done. We better be quick, I think my steward and scribe are waiting for me.


    But, Zoe stammered, this is not suitable work for royal hands, she imed.


    Maybe not, Theodora acknowledged, ncing down at her bare arms and hands. But since they are the only pair I possess, they will have to do. Make haste.


    Yes, Your Majesty, Zoe swallowed, preparing the water and the cloth.


    ~~~~


    When Leander returned to the pce in the evening, he found it more upied than usual. Every room seemed full to the brim with the wounded, and people in robes were everywhere, tending to them. Even the royal wing was thus in use, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he entered the bedchamber he shared with Theodora. As the door closed, the sounds of people moving, the whimpers of pain from the wounded, and the constant chatter taking ce, all was dampened. Removing his helmet, it was only then that Leander nced around and saw the room was empty.


    He drenched a cloth in a bowl of water and wiped it across his face, removing dirt, sweat, and dried blood. He was unbuckling his sword belt when Theodora entered the room and found him in that position. You are home, she smiled. Still in one piece, it seems.


    Indeed I am, Leander said, returning her smile. I think this is the first time I return before you do.


    So much to do, Theodora admitted with a shrug. Not enough hours in the day. I may have to spend a few nights as well if this continues.


    You have blood on your hands, Leander interrupted with a frown. Are you hurt?


    It is not mine, Theodora quickly exined. It is from the soldiers.


    The soldiers? Leander eximed.


    I am helping the sibyls andy brothers with the wounded, Theodora borated. There are too many for them to take care of on their own. I have assigned some of the pce servants as well, but it is still not enough, she said and took Leanders ce by the washing bowl to clean her hands.


    Only more wille, I fear, Leander muttered darkly. The enemy has intensified their efforts. They are not giving us a moments respite.


    My brave king, Theodora smiled, moving to embrace him. It cannotst forever. Sooner orter, the realms will relieve us, she said as her arms wrapped around him.


    Indeed they will, Leander smiled, returning the embrace. He disentangled himself from her, turned around, and began removing his armour before she could see his smile be hollow.


    ~~~~


    Eleven days after the siege began, the ounders still had no intentions of lessening the intensity of their assaults. They attempted again and again to scale the walls, and the defenders were running out of reserves. Every man capable of bearing arms, even some who were still wounded, was on the battlements, towers, or in the yard behind the gatehouse. Leander was constantly moving up and down the walls, followed by Hubert. Neither of them sheathed their swords while there was still daylight; they were in constant use, and both their shields were bent and battered. The blue flower upon Leanders could no longer be recognised and was little more than scratches.


    Leander was leaning against one of the crions, catching his breath while crouching behind the stonework with his shield raised in case of arrows; then he heard the too familiar sound of a siegedder being raised and the iron hooks on its top piece sinking into ce. Standing up and gathering his resolve, Leander nced around and saw Hubert materialising by his side. The ounders came jumping over the wall, quickly spilling into the gap left by the outnumbered heathmen. Leander defended himself while the count of Esmarch aggressively pushed forward, trying to reach thedder and stem the tide of red-robed soldiers. One of these slipped past Hubert, and he was in turn engaged by Leander.


    The ounder had their peculiar headgear draped around his face, leaving only his eyes visible; Leander focused on the sword on his hand, and they exchanged blows. Leanders enemy attempted a clumsy thrust forward, and the king easily turned the ounders de aside with his shield, retaliating and sinking his sword deep into his foe. The ounder stumbled backwards and fell to the side, crushing his head against the crions before falling to the ground. It made the cloth around his heade loose and fall apart, revealing his face to be smooth and youthful.


    Only then could Leander see that his attire was not the same as that worn by the Anausa; he was not one of their trainedpany, but simply a conscript of some sort and much younger than the king who had in him. Further deliberations were disrupted as more ounders climbed the wall, and Leander quickly raised his head to assess the situation. Hubert seemed to have it under control, however, pushing the Anausa back from one end; several Mearcians were cutting their way forward from the other end of the incursion.


    As the two sides met, closing the gap where the ounders had spilled onto the wall, Leander saw that the Mearcian soldiers were led by a warrior in a ragged Order surcoat. Although his looks heralded him to be from northern Adalmearc, dirt and grime made it less obvious, and his age appeared to be the same as the ounder whom Leander had in. The king looked down upon the body of his fallen enemy and nced up again; whoever the young Order warrior was, he was already gone. Hubert took position by the king once more, directing his attention to another section of the wall about to be assaulted; wiping his brow with the cool metal of his bracer, Leander nodded, and they moved towards the next point of engagement.


    ~~~~


    On the morning of the twelfth day, Theodora woke as dawns first light entered the room. She rose from the bed, beginning to dress herself; her handmaiden had long since been dismissed to work with the norns instead. She had started to brush her hair when she realised that Leander was still sitting on the edge of the bed rather than putting on his armour. Leander? she said softly, walking around the bed to approach him. He was sitting with his hands on either side of his face, holding it up or covering it; only when she came close did Theodora see that Leander sat with his eyes wide open. It was as if he stared at some unseen horror rather than the nk wall. Leander? she repeated, cautiously extending a hand to touch his shoulder.


    I cannot go, he whispered hoarsely. No more. I am spent.


    She sat down next to him. What is wrong? she asked concerned, letting her hand slide over his back.


    I cannot anymore, he simply repeated. When Theodora did not speak, he eventually continued. The noise, smoke, screams, arrows and stones and swords. One man, his head was bashed in by a rock, sprayed blood all over me. Tasted like metal, Leander exined, moving one hand to brush over his mouth as if the taste was still present. And this soldier, he came running past me. Just as he did, an arrow struck his face. If he had been a moment sooner or a momentter, it would have struck me.


    Oh, dearest, Theodora said softly, soothingly, stroking his temple, but Leander continued as if she had not interrupted.


    I killed this boy yesterday. I have fought before, of course, but this  this was the first time that it was my sword that really sank deep. It was easy even for me. He knew nothing of fighting. It could very well have been me, cut down without hesitation by someone more skilled. Theodora did not interrupt again but simply continued stroking his head as Leander spoke. It seems like the flip of a coin each day whether I live or die. Who bes another body on the pyre, and who gets to walk home. Like the gods are ying dice. You would think I was getting used to it, but I am not. Each day is more horrid than thest. If this continues, Leander swallowed, I will dissolve. Like ice under the sun, melting. Every part of me has melted away, Theodora, he continued, finally turning to look at her. I am just a walking suit of armour. Hollow, empty.


    Hush now, dearest, Theodora shushed him, cing one hand against the chest of his nightshirt. Can you feel? Your heart is still beating. You are still alive, she told him, her other hand caressing his cheek.


    It does not feel that way anymore, he confessed.


    Leander, you have to go, Theodora said softly while biting her lip. The men know your coat of arms. If it is not seen, they will know and lose their courage.


    The same way that I have lost mine? he asked with a bitter tone of voice.


    Find it, Theodora told him. Or pretend. Whatever is necessary to do your duty. You must not disappoint the men.


    Hearing this, Leander was silent at first. I know, he answered at length. If a soldier did not appear for duty, he would hang for desertion. I must go, he said and took a deep breath. I must go, he repeated, standing up.


    Leander walked over to his armour rack. Even from a distance, the smell of battle emanating from it permeated the room as a constant reminder of the siege. He put on the various pieces while Theodora watched him silently. Finally, only his helmet remained, which she stood with in her hands. Mustering a smile, he moved over to her and bowed his head down; she ced the helmet on his head and let her hands slide down to frame his face. She moved forward slightly and kissed him; he gave her a resigned look and left.


    Theodora stood indecisively for a moment after Leander was gone before sheposed herself and left. She went to one of the rooms filled with patients and found Zoe already busy tending to them. I was briefly dyed, Theodora remarked as she began undressing bandages from one of the wounded.


    It is not my ce to make such judgements, the norn said anxiously.


    It is mine, however, Theodora said with a faint attempt of smiling that had little sess. She was with the soldier whose eyes were bandaged; cleaning and drying the wounded area, she ced a new bandage around his head.


    Is it true, the man suddenly croaked in his strained voice, what the sister tells me? She ims you are the queen.


    She is right, Theodora confirmed as she finished tending to him. Though it is of a little consequence. Anybody in the pce could tend to your wounds.


    Never thought I would feel a queens touch, the man mumbled as he leaned back to rest.


    Moving to the next, Theodora nced at Zoe. She was feeding soup to the soldier with the head wound, whose eyes were always open with a ssy stare. He made no motion and did not stir but simply swallowed the liquid as it entered his mouth. What has happened to him?


    The elder sibyls say his mind has been hurt. It is sleeping even if his body is awake, Zoe exined as she filled the spoon.


    Can nothing be done? Theodora asked, turning her attention back towards the soldier presently in her care.


    Not unless he wakes by himself, no, the acolyte replied. But only the Weavers know the strands of his fate and if he ever will.


    But still you care for him, you keep him alive, Theodora pondered.


    Such is our t, Zoe exined. Only the Raven Lady knows when life is at its end. Until then, it is our duty to preserve it by any means. She continued on to the next patient.


    Your Majesty, Philon suddenly appeared.


    I have told you that I will be with you as soon as I am done, Theodora dered.


    I understand, the steward replied, bowing his head, but this should not be dyed. Count Larisa has discovered your intentions towards granting Lakonia to Count Leukas nephew. This has made Count Larisa furious, and he awaits your personal exnation as to why his shared ancestry towards Lakonia will thus be overlooked.


    These men are badly hurt, Theodora said sharply. While defending this city, including the count Larisa. Do they not deserve I tend to their needs first?


    Your Majesty, the steward said patiently. It is not I that you must convince but the count. I must caution you against letting your individual subjects take precedence over the realm as a whole.


    Eventually Theodora let out a sigh. Sister Zoe, I must ask you to finish for me, she told the acolyte. Tell Count Larisa I shall be with him momentarily, she instructed Philon and began drying herself clean of blood.


    ~~~~


    When Theodora had finished her meetings in the council chamber, she began walking back to her quarters. Before she reached her destination, Irene came from the opposite direction. Masking any emotions, Theodora simply continued, giving her aunt a brief nod and faint smile as they passed. Theodora, Irene said just as the queen passed by, making the young woman stop and turn to look at her. I have heard a rumour you are personally aiding the norns in tending to the wounded.


    For once rumour has it true, Theodora said, raising an eyebrow. Do you wish to tell me you disapprove?


    It is your decision, Irene spoke casually. It will make your courtiers think less of you, but the people will esteem you more highly. If you consider that a valuable trade, your decision has merit.


    I had not thought along those lines, Theodora replied politely, though she made a small step to increase the distance between them. I weigh my decisions on a different scale.


    Perhaps you should, Irene retorted. Others certainly will.


    I am not in the same position as you, dear aunt, Theodora countered. I need not rule as you have.


    Irene stepped closer. You may think so. Yet your husband was the son of mine, the dowager queen pointed out. Is it not amusing how fate seems to repeat itself? The same strands woven together, a wheel that turns and turns until it reaches its beginning.


    Leander is not his father, Theodora said defiantly. I may not have known my uncle well, but all I am told confirms this.


    I used to think so as well, Irene told her niece. Or rather, I hoped as much. You see, when a queen bears no children after many years of marriage, she is not thought well of. In fact she is the subject of scorn at court, Irene said, contempt audible in her own voice. But at least I could cling to the doubt as to who could not have children. Was it I or Everard?


    Then Leander was born, Theodora said quietly.


    Then Leander was born, Irene smiled sardonically. For the first few years I sowed doubt about his parentage. I investigated any possibility that somebody else was his father. When Theodora did not speak, Irene continued. And then a moment I will never forget. He was two or three years old and came walking down the hallway. He stopped as he saw me and cocked his head exactly like his father did when confronted with something confounding. And I could no longer pretend, Irene said bitterly. His eyes, his nose, his mannerisms. All of it exactly like Everard yet none of his vitality, his courage, his stature.


    You forget yourself, Theodora interrupted sharply, and of whom you speak, and to whom you speak.


    Of course, Irene said, but she did not seem chastised; she merely gave another of her disdainful smiles. Leander may be nothing like his father. I only wonder if that is for the best or for the worst. Theodora did not answer but simply left without further words.


    With another day spent divided between tending to the injured and ruling the realm, Theodora returned to her bedchamber and prepared for the night; Leander was not there despite the hour. The sun was soon gone, and only candles lit up the room. As they slowly burned away, Theodora sat on the edge of her bed and waited. There were still no footsteps made by armoured boots to announce Leanders return. She climbed into bed but could not sleep, and in the end, she got up again. She took a sheet of paper upon which was written an inheritance agreement for Count Argolis and read it in the dim candlelight. Halfway through, she stopped and walked to the door. She opened it and peered into the darkness, but all was quiet in the corridor beyond. Closing the door again, the queen returned and continued reading the rest of the document.


    She was almost done, the candle nearly at the end of its life, when heavy steps were finally heard. She stood up with a jolt, ncing towards the door; before she could move, it was opened, and Leander stepped through. He was in his usual worn condition with a weary look, but otherwise he appeared unharmed. There was a nightly assault, Leander exined, removing his helmet and gloves. The marshal guessed it. They left some of their screens close to the walls to hide their approach.


    All is well now? Theodora asked in a neutral voice, to which Leander made a reassuring gesture.


    Waited until they were almost under the walls and then threw torches down on the ground. Our archers had free range, he told her, pulling his surcoat over his head. Theodora nodded as he exined and bit her lip; finally, she quickly closed the distance between them and hugged him through his armour.


    I thought something had happened, she whispered. I know they would inform me if that were the case, but even so. I kept thinking She did not borate further. Leander did not reply but simply returned her embrace. It does not seem just that all I can do is wait.


    Trust me, you would not wish to be down there. Nor would I wish you to be, Leander assured her.


    I understand that, Theodora told him. But I am queen, and yet there is nothing I can do to protect you.


    Let us not speak further on this, Leander requested. We should both rest. They spent the remaining hours of the night chasing sleep.


    ~~~~


    On the fifteenth day of the siege, Leander stood as usual with the marshal and the count by his side atop the gatehouse. The ounders were pushing their catapults out to get in range, and their Anausa infantry were separating along the archery screens, pushing them forward in preparation for new assaults. Get ready for trouble, Hubert muttered, checking the straps on his shield.


    They are not bringing one of the screens, Leander said frowning. In the distance, they saw one of the tall wicker constructions remain immobile while the rest were pushed forward.


    It cannot be the same trick asst night, Hubert replied. Too far away to be of any use.


    Maybe it covers something else, the marshal mumbled, mostly to himself. His eyes traced a line from the screen towards the city fortifications. The tower, he added. They are mining the tower to our right.


    Mining? Leander said, his frown deepening.


    Tunnelling, the marshal exined. Rather than start from within their stockade, they leave that screen in ce to hide their work. Saves them a week of digging with that as their starting point.


    A bit of guesswork, is it not, the count of Esmarch muttered in his growling voice.


    If they consistently leave it in ce for the next days, I would say that supports my suspicion, Leonard answered.


    But should we not do something, asked their king, if they are digging a tunnel into the city?


    Not into, the marshal corrected him. They will dig below the tower. There is more pressure on the foundation, and it is less uniform than the wall around. Once they have undermined the ground underneath the tower, they copse their tunnel and the tower falls as well.


    All the more reason we must do something! Leander eximed.


    This city is built on hard rock, Hubert smiled. If they think digging through the heath is tough, wait until they get close to the mountain. They will have to carve through solid stone.


    Quite, the marshal agreed. Thest hundred feet could take them weeks or months to get through. I would say we are quite safe from their mining attempts, he exined with a satisfied smile.


    Oh, Leander said relieved. So we can ignore it?


    We can, the marshal said, but I think in a week or two we will try and sabotage their efforts. Destroy it if possible.


    But if it poses no threat Leander said confused.


    Exactly. The longer they spend digging those mines, trusting in that, the longer we will be safe. If we attack, regardless of whether we seed, that will reinforce their belief that mining our walls is the best strategy, Leonard told the young king.


    Subterfuge, Hubert grinned. Literally.


    Such a wit you are, Count Esmarch, the marshal muttered.


    Regardless of whether the ounders nned to tunnel below the walls, they did not abandon their direct assaults. There was constant fighting, and whenever the besiegers retreated from an area, they bombarded it with arrows as well as stones from the catapults. Leander sat crouched behind his shield, enduring the hailstorm of missiles on the easternmost part of the outer wall. As it ended, he looked up along with the other Mearcians on the parapet in realisation of what this meant. Within moments, the dreaded Anausa came leaping over the wall in several ces. Leander was pushed back and separated from Hubert; quickly he retreated further steps, waiting for other defenders to reinforce him rather than face the enemy alone.


    He did not have to wait long; a shape moved past him with effortless speed and dove into the ounders. One by one, they fell to the precision of the neers blows, unable to retaliate. Leander watched with shock as the defender wove through his enemies and cut them down. It was exactly like seeing the count of Esmarch fight except Leander was looking at a young man wearing a ragged Order surcoat. With him pushing from one side and Hubert from the other as well as the remaining Mearcians on the wall, they quickly repelled the assault.


    I have seen you before, Leander shouted over the noise of battle to the young Order soldier. I did not realise the Order recruited their soldiers so young.


    I am Baldwin of Hareik, stated the young warrior, squire to Sir William of Tothmor.


    That certainly illuminates your prowess, Leander replied, and they both knelt down behind the crions with their shields raised as the ounders began shooting volleys of arrows at them. You have my sympathies for your loss.


    I have lost none, Baldwin shook his head. It is but a temporary separation.


    I see, Leander said hesitantly. I was not aware it was considered likely that any of the knights escaped the battle.


    My lord is Sir William, Baldwin stated while an arrow embedded itself in his shield. No man born in these times can defeat him.


    Your confidence is inspiring if nothing else, Leander acknowledged. Has the marshal given you a specific posting?


    He had more pressing matters weighing on him, I wager, Baldwin replied. I simply go where I might be of most use.


    In that case, I suggest you stay by my side, Leander grinned. I would be d of yourpany. You will fit perfectly alongside my other protector, Count Esmarch. The boys eyes widened at hearing the name, and he nodded in eptance of his new position.


    ~~~~


    On the morning of the seventeenth day, Theodora stopped before she reached the chambers where she tended to the wounded. Two servants were carrying a body between them out of the chamber that had once belonged to Leander. Even from a distance, Theodora could recognise the man as the one with the head wound whose mind would not wake. As they carried him away for the pyres, Theodora walked forward once again and entered the chamber. What happened? she asked of Zoe.


    He was not breathing. When I came in this morning, I mean, Zoe said. He was cold. I think he simply stopped breathing sometime during the night.


    I do not know why I kept thinking he would wake, Theodora said with a weak voice. For some reason, all the care you gave him, I thought he would wake.


    The raven came for his spirit, Zoe said in a resigned voice. He could do naught but obey.


    But that is so unreasonable, Theodora tried to argue. We do all we can and for nothing? Are the gods so capricious?


    Your Majesty, Zoe said shocked with a voice torn between admonishing a heretic statement and avoiding giving offence to the queen. It is not our ce to ask such questions.


    There are many who would say it is not for a woman to rule, Theodora said sharply. I have long since abandoned such notions, she eximed and stormed out of the room. A short while passed before she finally returned and began cleaning wounds and changing bandages; she did so in silence with angry, quick motions rather than her usual tender movements and words of encouragement to the injured.


    When the day ended and she returned to her bedchamber, Theodora could not find rest long enough to sit down; she paced back and forth, looking at papers and documents before pushing them away, removing her diadem and carelessly flinging it onto the table by her vanity mirror. Her angry energy was in stark contrast to Leanders entry, which was made with weary steps. As he found his wife pacing around the room restlessly, he simply stood and stared until she noticed and returned his gaze. They both breathed deeply and gave each other an embrace, but neither found much sleep that night.


    ~~~~


    The twentieth day of the siege came and went, but as night began to fall, the Mearcians did not retire from the walls as customary. Instead, a small band of them remained in the yard and made special preparations to their attire. Some of them exchanged their steel helmets for leather caps, while others covered theirs in cloth. Bracers, greaves, and other pieces of metal not hidden by their surcoat was likewise covered up. What are they doing? Leander asked quietly as he observed the men prepare thus.


    Making sure nothing is showing that might reflect light, the marshal replied. Leander looked up at the moon, which was almost new and barely shone at all.


    They are not taking chances, the king mumbled with raised eyebrows, watching as Hubert wound leather strips around the pommel of his sword. Neither Leander nor the marshal had even bothered trying to dissuade Hubert from leading the nightly raid.


    I should be going as well, muttered Baldwin as he stood by Leanders side.


    You have your task, Hubert told the youth without looking up. If I do not return, at least someone mildly skilled can protect that boy in my absence, he said, gesturing in Leanders direction. Several of the soldiers looked uneasy at witnessing their king being referred to in this manner, though Leanders only reaction was a hopeless sigh.


    Perhaps you should restrict such terms to times of solitude, the marshal said pointedly, although Hubert did not seem to listen.


    Finally, the small group was prepared, and they all moved to the wall. A rope was tied around one of the crions, and one by one, the soldiers climbed down. Leander, Leonard, and Baldwin remained and walked up on the nearest tower, where several longbowmen also stood in reinforcement. They watched as best they could, but theck of light and the meticulous preparations made it impossible to discern anything. As with thest sortie, the Mearcians left behind could do nothing but wait until something revealed itself.


    When it finally did, the distance meant they could still not make much sense of it. It seems to be in the right ce, the marshal mumbled, straining his old eyes. The sounds that reached them were too distant for their nature to be determined.


    In the event you were right about the mining and the location, Leander said pointedly. I am still doubtful this was the right move. What if they end up abandoning their tunnels altogether and simply continue their direct assault?


    Then they will continue to suffer losses while knowing that we struck out and destroyed their tunnels. A blow to morale, the aged knight replied.


    Wound the enemys morale, my lord king, Baldwin nodded sagely, and half the battle is won.


    Kill them and the whole battle is won, Leander said lightly, though neither the old nor the young Order warrior by his side found it amusing.


    Things developed further beyond the walls. It was not far from the stockades erected by the ounders, near where their archery screens had been left behind. Now, shes of steel could clearly be heard along with a death scream or two, but nothing else could be deduced until a group of red-robed warriors was spotted, running from the ounder fortifications with torches in hand. Finally, the marshal growled. About time they brought light. As the new soldiers arrived with torches, the Mearcians watching from afar could begin to determine what had and what was happening. Sentries had been posted by the ounders in various positions to watch the battlefield between the city walls and their palisades. Several of these watchmeny dead around the wicker screens, and fighting continued in that area. Then was heard a loud rumble akin to thunder except it came from the earth and not the sky.


    More fighting ensued. asionally a torch was dropped or extinguished, plunging its surroundings into darkness. Instead, the sound of horse hooves could be heard by those with the sharpest hearing. Their riders, the marshal said tight-lipped, they are going to ride our men down. Archers, get ready.


    Where are we shooting, my lord? asked one of them. He did so with good reason since the entire area within their range waspletely ck and no movement could be detected.


    Wait, Leonard ordered them, leaning forward as if the few inches recovered made him able to see his retreating men. He remained silent, however, simply watching with the others. Now and then screams could be heard as the Zhayedan riders impaled one of the heathmen on their spears.


    Finally, the Mearcians could see their own men approaching the wall, running towards the rope that would allow them back to safety. Now, bellowed the marshal, and all the archers upon the tower let loose. While the riders were in motion and thus difficult to hit, at least they were easier to spot due to the sound of their horses galloping across the field, and the red robes worn by the Zhayedan riders could narrowly be glimpsed. Eventually the ounders determined that the risk was not worth it and abandoned their pursuit, turning their horses around and out of range of the Hthian longbowmen.


    The king, the marshal, and the squire hurried down from the tower towards the returning men. A score and a half as well as the count Esmarch had left, and nearly a score returned. Dangerous work, Hubert said with a satisfied look, but rewarding. Those ck-hearted, red-frilled bastards were digging a tunnel. We copsed it as thoroughly as we could.


    Good work, my lord, the marshal said in approval. This will set them back many days.


    Damn, this is thirsty work, though, the count saidmenting. I could drink a barrel of ale.


    No ale left in the city, Leander said with a smile born of relief rather than jest. And nothing new will be brewed until the siege ends. But maybe some wine can be dug up somewhere.


    That would do, Hubert nodded gravely as they descended down from the battlements. That will do.


    Crossing the yard, the men dispersed each to their homes. Leander, Leonard, Hubert, and Baldwin walked together up the road, two of them headed for the pce, two of them headed for the Order tower. They had not left the yard before they were met by a youth wearing a red, feathered cap, rubbing his eyes. Almost fell asleep, Troy yawned.


    I told you to go on ahead without us, Leander chastised him. There was no need for you to wait up, he said as Troy fell in ce and walked with the group. They reached the gate separating the districts and had the guards open it for them.


    It didnt feel right going home without you, Troy shrugged. And I suppose I was curious to see if this one finally met his match out there, the troubadour added, motioning towards Hubert.


    No man is born who can best me in battle, Hubert said triumphantly.


    Except  Baldwin chirped, but he was quickly interrupted.


    Except Sir William, yes, yes, I know, Hubert said sourly. Hels arse, I trained that boy too well for my own good. A few scatteredughs came in response as the king, the count, the marshal, the squire, and the bard walked up the mountain towards their beds.


    ~~~~


    If the ounders repaired their tunnels or abandoned their designs, the defenders were not certain; regardless, they continued storming the walls. The twenty-first day of the siege was reced by the twenty-second, which in turn was superseded by the twenty-third, which soon lost its ce to the twenty-fourth. On each day, hundreds died on both sides to arrows, swords, axes, and many other inventive ways that men could devise for the killing of other men.


    As the twenty-fifth day of the siege dawned, nothing gave away that it would not simply continue the rhythm. Catapults and bowmen rained missiles down upon the defenders; crouching behind crions, Leander hid underneath his shield and waited out the storm while keeping watch for where he and his two protectors should move to engage the enemy. That was odd, Baldwin said with a frown; unlike most others, he had no qualms about peering over the walls while they were being hit with volleys despite the risk of exposing his face to being impaled by an arrow.


    Something stranger than you not having an arrowhead embedded in your nose? Hubert bellowed, having on numerous asions reproached Baldwin for his recklessness.


    Some of the ounders, I swear, it looks like they are armed with mining picks, Baldwin said with uncertainty in his voice.


    What? eximed the marshal, risking himself to look over the walls.


    Straight ahead of us, Baldwin pointed out. Heading our way.


    Good luck hacking your way through the walls, Hubert snored derisively.


    Not the walls, the marshal mumbled, barely audible. The gatehouse. The barricade, it burst from him. They want to pick through the barricade, he yelled, suddenly standing up. Prepare oil! he shouted to the soldiers nearby.


    There is none left, one of the soldiers stammered.


    Hel on a horse, the marshal cursed, and he leapt down the stairs from the gatehouse, running down into the yard.


    Bewildered and confused, Leander, Hubert, and Baldwin followed suit. Sir Leonard, what is happening? Leander asked.


    The mining picks, they are going to carve their way through the blockade! the marshal exined, and he gestured towards the gatehouse. The opening where the gate had once stood was blocked by solid rocks, the materials used by defenders to fill up the breach in what seemed like an eternity ago.


    But that will take hours, Leander argued.


    Still quicker than mining through underground, the marshal argued as he ordered the nearby soldiers to assemble.


    Can we not rece it? asked Hubert. Drive them back, rebuild the barricade with more stone?


    It is all spent in repairs, Leonard said, shaking his head. Quarry is outside the city, we cannot get any more.


    Tear down some of the buildings, Baldwin offered, motioning towards the nearby houses. Use their materials.


    They are made from timber and brick, Hubert retorted. Mining picks will tear through them quickly.


    Another cavalry charge, Leander suggested. As before, drive them back as soon as they get through.


    We ate thest horse three days ago, the old knight said, emotion filtering through into his voice. We are out of options.


    The marshals words hit like hammers as they sank in. What do we do? asked Leander, who was the first to recover.


    I and my men will hold them back as long as we can, the marshal promised. Lord Hubert, you have your duty to perform, he told the count and walked over to the nearby group of Order soldiers. They were only a few scores, those who remained of the original city garrison past the battle of Sikyon. Their surcoats were little more than rags; the white, seven-pointed star was bloodied and grimed if not outright torn to pieces.


    Lord Hubert, what does he mean? Leander asked of him.


    I am your protector, the count said. We do not have long before they break through and storm into the city. The district walls are worth little defence, but they will buy us a few hours. It is time to retreat, boy.


    Retreat where? Leander said, still not understanding.


    The escape tunnels, Hubert said quietly. You have to get out of the city.


    What? eximed Leander. I am to flee? Make a coward of myself?


    At the first battle against the ounders, the marshal signalled a retreat, and he saved what could be saved. It was the right choice, it allowed us to defend the city, Hubert argued forcefully.


    Except all retreated, Leander countered. Not merely the marshal. All our men were brought back.


    Not all, Baldwin interceded. The knights stayed and fought so the others could escape, he pointed out while looking at Leander with his big eyes. We must stay and fight so you can escape and fight another day, he told the young king.


    If we are to continue the war, Hubert insisted, the king of Hthiod must be free and not a prisoner.


    Leander let his eyes sweep over the area with the walls still being bombarded by the ounders. Directly ahead was the gatehouse with the blocked entrance, which they were picking through. Priests and priestesses,y brothers and volunteers, bringing wounded away to the upper district. We fought so hard, Leander mumbled. How can we have lost?


    Your Majesty, Hubert said gravely, and Leanders head turned sharply upon hearing the counts unfamiliar use of the title. The siege is lost. If you and the queen are taken prisoner, the whole realm is sure to follow. Do you believe the queen will flee the city while you remain here?


    No, Leander admitted hoarsely.


    You may flee for your own sake, for your peoples sake, or for the queens sake, Hubert continued, speaking as quietly as he could while still being audible. Regardless, it is the right thing to do. Should you feel the sting of cowardice, that is your burden to bear.


    Find Troy, Leander finally said. I will not leave without him.


    I cannot depart from your side, Your Majesty, Hubert said in refusal.


    Baldwin, Leander called out. The squire had left the kings side to join the Order soldiers preparing for the inevitable breach and incursion of Anausa infantry; he returned, however, upon hearing Leander speak his name.


    Yes, my lord king?


    Find Troy among the volunteers, Leander instructed him, and then I want both of you to make your way towards the pce immediately. No dy.


    I shall convey your message, Baldwin said with a nod. As a soldier of the Order, my ce is here when the enemy breaks through, the squire argued, motioning towards where the other Order warriors had gathered under the marshalsmand.


    I will not see you dead, Leander hissed. If I cannot save any of them, I will save you! I am your king!


    I am from Vidrevi, Baldwin said with a joyless smile. I am only beholden to the Order, my lord king. And it is not right that I should be spared whilst my brethren die inbat simply because I am acquainted with my lord king, said the young warrior.


    Baldwin, said the marshal, suddenly appearing. As marshal of the Order, Imand you to protect the king and ensure his safe departure from this city. Understood?


    But my lord marshal  Baldwin began to argue, but he was cut off.


    Understood? Leonard roared.


    Yes, my lord, Baldwin mumbled dissatisfied.


    The Order will need knights of your calibre, the marshal said quietly, cing a hand on Baldwins shoulder in a final gesture as he walked past the boy. He returned to his men standing in front of the barricade, which was slowly being dismantled from the other side.


    Baldwin, Leander said, repeating his order, find Troy and meet us in the royal wing. Troy will know where to go.


    Yes, the squire muttered, quickly departing.


    The king gave ast look at the fortifications that they had held for so long, ast look at the men about to defend the yard and be overrun by the enemy. Let us go, he said quietly to Hubert, and the two men departed from the lower circle.


    The marshal watched them leave before he turned to face the fortifications. Where the gate had once stood was now but a mass of stones heaped together, filling out the gap underneath the gatehouse. Two score of men were gathered by the marshals side; all that remained of the Order forces in Tothmor. Some were young, some were old, but all of them were hardened veterans by now. On the walls and the closest towers were thest longbowmen still at the marshals disposal, ready to unleash their arrows and sell the city for the steepest price possible.


    Itsted another half hour before they broke through. During this time, the ounders still assaulted the walls as they had done nearly every day for twenty-five days, but it was half-hearted and mostly to draw defenders to the walls. It appeared that the ounders knew as well what it would mean once they broke through the barricaded gate. Still there were thousands upon thousands of their red-attired soldiers waiting to storm into the city and sack it.


    The marshal breathed heavily, holding his sword ready. He had been a knight for sixty-one years and a marshal in thirty of those. Atst, the barricade began to crumble visibly. The remaining stones fell apart. It took another effort, and then the breach was wide enough for the Anausa to storm through. Raising his sword towards the enemy, Sir Leonard roared the battle cry of the Order and charged the enemy onest time.

 Chapter 32: Subterfuge

    Chapter 32: Subterfuge


    Subterfuge


    Tothmor


    While the ounders were digging through the barricade, Leander and Hubert hurried towards the pce. The city streets were almost deserted; the siege had crippled it, and all those not upied in its defence were staying indoors. Only the few soldiers guarding the district gates watched their progress as the king and count ran as fast as their armour would allow. How many des can you gather quickly? asked Leander as they raced through the second circle.


    Most of them are scattered around the grounds, and some have been sent to reinforce the walls, Hubert said, thinking out loud. Maybe ten or so.


    Get them to the royal wing, but get provisions first. We will have a long march ahead of us, Leander ordered.


    As you say, the old warrior acknowledged, and they separated after entering the first circle.


    While Hubert went to gather his men, Leander marched straight to the council chamber. Many eyes turned as they recognised the king, but none dared question the reason for his presence. Reaching his destination, he found only the pce steward and the queens scribe at work. Where is the queen? Leander shouted with his remaining breath.


    Tending to the wounded, the steward said anxiously. Is something the matter, Your Majesty? Leander did not reply but simply turned and sped away.


    He walked down some of the hallways, gazing into every room while calling out her name. Every time, he was only met with confused looks from norns, servants, andy brothers or the nk stares of the wounded in their delirium. He continued doing this room after room until the futility of his method became apparent; there were far too many halls, chambers, and corridors to search. Where is the queen? he demanded to know of a priestess. Where are the patients she is caretaker for?


    The royal wing, the norn said with a frown. She tends to them every morning.


    Leander did not waste another moment but left immediately, rushing towards the royal wing. Again he went from room to room, shouting for her, but none to reply; those with the heaviest wounds were ced here, in many cases simply waiting to die, and there was barely any attendants. Finally he reached what had been his own chamber, and he saw the young norn Zoe. Where is the queen? he all but yelled, and she nearly dropped the jar in her hands.


    Shes not here, the priestess stammered. She only helps me in the morning.


    Where is she then? Leander asked, breathing heavily and leaning against the doorframe; his furious energy was subsiding.


    I dont know, Zoe admitted with fright in her voice. I have not seen her since morning.


    The steward said she left to tend to the wounded, Leander argued in a hoarse voice. Are these not her patients?


    Only in the morning, Zoe reiterated. If Her Majesty left to help, it would be elsewhere.


    Where? Leander roared with frustration.


    Maybe the west wing? Zoe offered in a nervous voice. That is where the physicians work, they always need help. Leander turned without a word and ran westwards.


    The smell of blood was fresh in the air in the western part of the pce. They were operating on soldiers struck by arrows in a way that the arrowhead could not easily be retrieved or removed, or those with crushed limbs that had to be amputated to save the rest of the body, and many other horrifying scenarios. Leander did not hesitate as he took in the gruesome sight, merely ncing over the halls as he passed through the wing. Theodora! he called again and again. When a young woman stopped cleaning a vicious-looking gash on a soldiers stomach, she was hard to recognise. There was no diadem in her hair, which was not elegantly set either but simply tied back from her face. Her sleeves were pulled up, and there were bloodstains on not only her hands but her dress as well.


    Leander, she eximed, what is the matter? Why are you here?


    Come with me, he urged her, beckoning towards the door.


    I am upied, she replied with a gesture towards the soldier whose wound she was cleansing.


    One of the sisters will finish for you, Leander told her and motioned for one of the norns to take over. He grabbed hold of Theodoras arm and pulled her with him out of the hall.


    Leander, you are frightening me. What is the matter? Theodora demanded to know.


    Leander lessened his pace and ckened his hold on her arm as they walked towards the royal wing with less speed. We have to leave, he muttered quietly, through the siege tunnels.


    What? Theodora came to an abrupt halt.


    The ounders are breaking through if they have not already, Leander exined, still keeping his voice hushed. We have very little time before they breach the district walls as well, and we must escape.


    I cannot leave, Theodora protested. Think of all the people here who will be left behind.


    I had the same reaction as you, Leander said impatiently, and I had to concede as well. We are wasting time.


    No! Theodora eximed, refusing to walk further. I alone choose where I go, and you may not decide on my behalf, she said forcefully, staring intently at him with furious eyes.


    Leander stopped as well and turned to look at her. I understand. You want to stay because you cannot bear to abandon your people, he spoke, gesturing to the people lying wounded in the rooms surrounding them. Because you think they will despise you for running, they will think you chose to save yourself and that you left them to their fate. Theodora had opened her mouth to formte some form of reply, but she closed her lips again without speaking.


    Leander continued. That is exactly how I thought. It has taken every ounce of strength for me to fight every day on the walls, to prove I am not a coward. And in one moment, I undid all of that bying here while our soldiers are preparing to die in the final defence of this city, Leander said, his voice growing quieter and yet more insisting as he stepped close to her. But if you and I are captured, we will be puppets to the ounders. We will be chess pieces in their subjugation of our home. We must escape to continue the fight. We must suffer the blow to our pride that we may free our people when the timees.


    Leander stared into Theodoras eyes, and each word he spoke had the effect of a p to her face. She could not bear his gaze and turned, staring at the many wounded soldiers and those who tirelessly worked to cure and alleviate their ills. But I am their queen, she said weakly. How can I abandon my people?


    Because there are thousands upon thousands in this realm, Leander said, taking hold of her hand. They are all our people, and they need us to be strong. To make the difficult choice. Theodoras eyes and attention were upon the quiet moans and pangs of suffering, the men slowly bleeding through their bandages, the norns andy brothers feeding their wards and wiping their foreheads clear of fever sweat. Please, my heart, please, Leander urged Theodora, cing her hand against his torso. We must go.


    She finally turned, and with dazed eyes, she looked at his hand covering hers. Am I truly your heart? she asked with a vulnerable voice, lifting her gaze to meet his.


    Always, Leander promised her. But it will break if we do not leave. For your sake, for mine, for the realms. We must leave. Theodora swallowed, and she bit her lip, but finally she nodded in consent.


    The pair swiftly marched through the pce until they reached the royal wing. I cannot leave without my mother, Theodora said as they walked quickly. That I will not concede to.


    I would not wish otherwise, Leander nodded. I suppose, he said hesitantly, we should bring my mother as well. And, he finally added with further reluctance as they approached their bedchamber, your aunt. Both her and my mother could be valuable hostages.


    You, Theodora said to the guard who patrolled the corridor in the royal wing. Bring thedies Beatrice, Diane, and Irene to my personal chamber. All three of them, now, no time to waste. The de gave the queen a bow and departed without a word.


    Once inside the chamber, both the king and queen looked towards therge bed that they shared. I have never actually been in the tunnels, Theodora admitted.


    Me neither, Leander added. Let us hope we were not deceived. With a joint effort, they pushed the bed aside. It was surprisingly light and not difficult to remove; apparently, it was not a massive construction but hollow. Then they pulled away the rug on which the bed normally rested, revealing the wooden nks of the floor beneath.


    Leander took a few probing steps onto the nks, stomping on them; the ensuing sounds revealed that a small area was empty underneath the floor. Taking his dagger, Leander stuck it in between the nks and loosened one of them; it willingly gave away so it might be removed. With one gone, Leander stuck his hand down and removed the others. At least the tunnel is there, Leander remarked.


    Hopefully it leads where we want, Theodora replied. She went through certain drawers, retrieving heirloom jewellery, the official seal of the kingdom, and other such valuables of particr importance.


    We will need candles, light, Leander said aloud. There must be a tinderbox somewhere, I will go and find some fire, he dered and quickly departed.


    Having gathered everything irreceable, Theodora looked around until she found a shawl. She dumped everything into it, gathered the corners of the shawl and tied a ribbon around it, creating an improvised bag. After that, she found a cloak for herself and put it on. Suddenly she heard footsteps outside the door, and she froze until it opened, revealing her mother and aunt.


    Theodora, eximed Irene, what is the meaning of this? Why have you summoned us in this manner?


    Irene, Beatrice said softly, stepping inside with her eyes upon the revealed escape tunnel. Look.


    Ah, Irene merely replied.


    Beatrice stepped over and took her daughters hands. Has it reallye to this?


    Leander believes so, Theodora nodded. We have to leave.


    Like this? Irene eximed. Do you know where that path will take us? Where we go next?


    No, Theodora admitted hesitantly, but I am sure Leander has a n of some sort.


    d you are confident at least, Irene snorted. Before more could be said, the guard returned with Diane. Her as well? Irene scoffed.


    She is the kings mother and potential leverage against him, Theodora exined with exasperation.


    Leverage? What is going on, this brute would not tell me anything, Diane said in a huff, motioning towards the de who had apanied her.


    The city is on the verge of being overrun, Beatrice exined and pointed towards the hatch in the floor. We have to flee.


    There is a tunnel in the royal bedchamber? Diane eximed with wide eyes.


    You did not know? Irene said with a triumphant voice. I suppose you would not, considering you are not a member of the family.


    Further replies were interrupted by Leanders return. Incredible how difficult it was to find a tinderbox, let alone light a candle, heined, arriving with a lit candle in one hand and a few unused torches in the other. I have newfound respect for the servants who do this every morning.


    Are we supposed to eat the candles as well? Irene asked with a sneer. Or what did you intend for when wee out of the mountain and find ourselves on the heath?


    Irene, Leander said curtly, shut up or be left behind. Irenes mouth flew open in shock, but she seemed unable to formte a reply.


    Next to arrive were two young men; one was d as a warrior, and the other was carrying a lute. Pardon ourteness, Baldwin said, gasping for air; both he and Troy appeared out of breath. This one would note here unless we got his instrument.


    You have your weapon, I have mine, Troy said, trying to apany it with a shrug; his state of exertion kept him frompleting any kind of motion other than panting, however.


    This? Diane said with raised eyebrows. You are bringing a bard and a boy in armour as well?


    I am Baldwin of Hareik, the squire said fiercely, squire of the Order and defender of the Seven Realms. I do not know you, mydy, but you will speak with the courtesy that every Order soldier is deserving of.


    You will let him speak to your own mother this way? Diane said stunned.


    I like him more than you, Mother, so yes, Leander said dryly.


    You are still a traitor to the Crown, Theodora said coldly to Diane. Do not mistake my eptance of your presence for a pardon. Only your kinship with my husband is saving you from the axe. With Diane silenced, the queen turned to Leander. We will need food and water for the journey, she said to him.


    Leander turned his head upon hearing numerous approaching footsteps. I believe your answer is arriving.


    The room became crowded as Hubert arrived along with nearly a dozen of his des, most of them carrying supplies and bags with provisions. Are we ready? asked the count.


    I believe so, Leander nodded and gave the torches away before he lit them with the candle.


    Allow me to step first, Hubert suggested, in case the path is unsafe. We should lock the chamber behind us, probably, dy discovery of our flight.


    No need, said one of the des as he stepped forward. I will stay behind.


    ukos? Hubert said questioningly.


    Pursuit like this will be easy, the guard exined, pointing towards the open hatch with the rug and bed pushed aside. I will put things in order and mask your escape. With fortune on our side, they will never know how you left.


    ukos, Hubert said in a thick voice, you make an old man proud and sad at the same time.


    You have our gratitude, Theodora said, to which Leander nodded in assent.


    Shall we go? Diane asked impatiently, earning her a few looks, but Hubert did as suggested and quickly stepped down the stairs into the waiting darkness.


    ~~~~


    The tunnel was short and narrow, and for a long while, it only allowed passage of one person at a time. None spoke but only stared at the back of the person straight ahead; that was all they could see in the dim light of the few torches spread among the people of the procession. The smoke they emitted had nowhere to escape and made most eyes water, and there was constant coughing to be heard. Any sense of time was lost with nothing to act as markers except for the increasing weariness from walking on uneven terrain.


    Eventually, the tunnel widened enough to allow two people walking side by side; it seemed to be a naturally urring cave, which the ancient heathmen had simply connected with the pce on the south side of Mount Tothmor through an artificial tunnel. The passageway not only got wider but also taller, allowing the smoke more room to disperse and to float higher, and most took relieved breaths.


    Theodora walked in the centre of the group, and by chance, Baldwin was in front of her. When the tunnel width allowed it, she increased her pace slightly to reach his side. If I heard correctly, you are Baldwin? she asked of him, striking up conversation. The king mentioned you as one who had joined him and Count Esmarch in the defence, though he gave no further details.


    Baldwin of Hareik at mydy queens service, the squire nodded.


    Vidrevi, Theodora said contemtively, you are a forester. What great distance you have travelled to fight here.


    I go where I am sent, Baldwin said with calm in his voice. The Order sent all its avable knights here, which included their squires and sergeants.


    Even so, you have crossed all of Adalmearc to be here, Theodora said. You do not feel any longing having exchanged the great forests with our heaths?


    There was nothing of particr import that kept in Hareik, Baldwin said. My fathers name is not mine to speak, he added after a moments hesitation.


    Same as the king, Theodora smiled, although the darkness made it difficult to see. Though he has never let such weigh him down.


    Nor me, Baldwin said. I was given to the Order, and the Order gave me what I needed. Any man can bear the spurs with honour, regardless of his origin. That is why it has my loyalty.


    That is a noble sentiment to have, Theodoramented in a light tone.


    Nothing remarkable, Baldwin replied casually, whenpared to mydy queen. Bing queen regnant at such a young age is surely a testament to mydy queens character.


    You are familiar with the history of the Hthian court? Theodora asked surprised.


    I am squire to Sir William, Baldwin exined. He has at times spoken of his youth in Tothmor.


    I see, Theodora said slowly. You sound as if you do not expect he has perished in battle.


    I do not, Baldwin confirmed.


    I am not well-versed in military matters, Theodora admitted hesitantly, so I cannot pass judgement.


    Oh no, it is most likely that the knights fell upon the field, Baldwin acknowledged with a shrug. But if any could extricate them, it would be Sir William. He is the epitome of knighthood, mydy queen. Only his honour is stronger than his sword. I will not believe him dead unless I see his body with my own eyes.


    I wish I had your strength of convictions, Theodora said quietly, in all things.


    You are a monarch, mydy queen, I am a squire. Ruler and servant. What is necessary for a servant may be useless to a ruler. It is my understanding that mydy queen has shown great wisdom in all respects.


    Baldwin, Theodora said light-heartedly, I see why the king enjoys yourpany.


    While Theodora was engaged in conversation with Baldwin, her husband had moved to the front of the small group. How long do you think before we are out of the mountain? Leander asked of Hubert.


    Maybe a days march, maybe half, Hubert suggested. Hard to say. None of us know how far the path extends.


    We may have to take rest soon, Leander told him. We probably cannot take the whole march in one stretch.


    As you say, Hubert epted with his focus on the darkness ahead of him, which his torch valiantly did its best to dispel. The tunnel narrowed slightly again, and Leander could not walk side by side with the count but had to remain behind him. This meant he could not see Huberts expression, and his next words were spoken with hesitation.


    I did not think of it while we were hastening to escape the pce, Leander began a lengthy exnation. I had Theodoras mother and aunt brought and mine own, so they would not be made captives. Yet in my haste, I did not think of the family members of others. Such as yourself, Lord Hubert, Leander finished, sounding slightly anxious. He could only stare at the back of Huberts head, but the count did not seem to flinch.


    If you are referring to my son in the dungeons, Hubert said calmly, you need not fret, boy. His actions brought him there. Responsibility falls on his shoulders. Not mine or yours.


    Have you been to see him? Since everything that has happened, Leander asked, unable to borate properly.


    Once, Hubert said. Before the siege began. After, I never felt like I had time.


    I see. I will not pry, Leander simply said.


    Pry all you want, boy, Hubert growled. We did not speak much in any case. He has vited all that I stand for.


    Still, I would understand if this grieves you. The loss of your only son, Leander exined haltingly.


    I have many sons, Hubert interjected.


    I thought  Leander said confused without finishing his thought.


    Some were given to me when they were four, some when they were seven, some when they were nearly adults. But regardless of the age at which they entered my tutge, I have many sons. Certainly it is displeasing that one of them should have fallen astray, Hubert said; his voice was now entirely neutral, and still Leander could not see in the darkness what expression was upon the counts face. But there are others of whom I am proud. And some of my sons are with me in this very moment. You need not think further on the matter, boy, Hubert reassured the king.


    If you say so, Leander mumbled with an uncertain voice.


    The passage expands up ahead, Hubert uttered with a throw of his head in forward direction. I think we can take a short rest in a moment, the count dered and said nothing further.


    ~~~~


    Except for one of the des who brought up the rear, the three elderlydies of the court took up thest positions of the procession. Irene, Beatrice, and Diane as thest. Neither their shoes nor their clothes had ever been intended for lengthy journeys on foot, and the consequences could be felt. All three of them sank to the floor with relieved sighs as a halt was announced. We could all use some water, Hubert mentioned, and some of the des opened their packs and distributed some sks for people to drink from. I will scout ahead, see if the opening is near, the count continued and walked on ahead with Leander forpany.


    Theodora and Baldwin sat down, continuing their conversation while Troy, after ckening his thirst, tested the condition of his lute and yed a few simple tunes. This drew the attention of most of the des, who sat down nearby to listen. In this manner, most members of the group distracted themselves from the situation.


    My feet, Dianeined, investigating damage done to her shoes. I was not meant for such ordeals.


    You prefer to be lying on your back, I imagine, Irene said acerbically.


    We are all hurting, Beatrice tried to interject, but to no avail.


    At least there are some who would find such a situation involving me appealing, Diane retorted.


    Now, now, Beatrice attempted once more. There is no need


    You should have stuck to that singr skill, Irene sneered. It did not go so well for you when you tried branching out.


    Oh, spare me! Diane eximed. You may have seeded in your schemes for a while, but my son is king now, whereas you have nothing but the past to cling to.


    How dare you, Irene spat. As if any of that is your doing. The only thing you havee close to achieving is your sons execution. Be thankful that neither the queen nor I desired that. The heated exchange could no longer be ignored by the other members of the travelling party, and Theodora looked as if about to speak. She was pre-empted by her mother.


    Oh gods above! came an outburst from Beatrice. The two of you! Irene, I have watched you manipte my daughter for twelve years and tolerated it because I thought it necessary, holding my tongue however distasteful and loathsome it was. And Diane, since he was born, you have used your own son as a pawn in your petty schemes until you finally stepped up into full-blown treason. Understand this, it is over! We are fleeing court, Beatrice said with a clenched jaw while her hands curled into fists.


    She was not done, however, and continued speaking. Irene, you are not the dowager queen. Diane, you are not the kings mother. You are two old women bickering like children while we are running for our lives. If either of you breathe one more word, I will have the guards cut out both your tongues. And if the guards refuse, Beatrice finished her invective while sending incensed looks to both women, I will take a knife and do it myself. Now be quiet! she eximed, standing up and leaving everyone staring at her in stunned silence. Shall we continue? I believe we are rested. My feet no longer hurt, she said, directed at Theodora. The queen nodded without speaking, and everybody slowly got up as they gathered their wits. As thest two, Diane and Irene joined the others in continuing down the route where Leander and Hubert had gone ahead.


    ~~~~


    The small group walked about an hour when theye across Leander heading towards them. Our exit is just ahead, he said to Theodora as they reached each other, and he turned around to walk beside her in that direction. We will be out soon. Is everybody still in good spirits?


    There was some tension, Theodora said, but my mother handled it.


    She always did have a calming influence, Leander remarked without seeing the expression his words caused to appear on Theodoras face.


    Where is Lord Hubert? the queen asked.


    We scouted the surroundings for a while, Leander exined. He is still in the vicinity, searching for any presence of ounders.


    Is that likely? Theodora said concerned.


    As best we could determine, we are northwest of the city and probably due north of the enemy camp. Not with as great a distance between them as we could have wanted, Leander admitted. We should head straight north along the mountain, rather than go west and cross the heath.


    Because we are easily spotted on t terrain, Theodora said in understanding. That makes sense. North and then west once we are beyond enemy reach.


    The question will be what to do afterwards, Leander said slowly. Even if we reach Adalrik,st we heard the jarls were battling each other. We will not find reinforcements there, perhaps not even a safe haven.


    We will go south to Korndale, Theodora said tight-lipped. My cousin can exin to me in person why he failed to aid us.


    Soon after, they reached the end of the caves and entered the light. The sun was still some distance from the horizon; it was just the time for the first evening bell to have rung if they had still been back in Tothmor. There would be no tolling of bells in the city this evening, however. The small group of nobles and soldiers took another break, enjoying the sunlight and the fresh air.


    It did notst long before Hubert returned. I saw no sign of the enemy, he said, but that is no promise they are absent. We should stick to the mountain and keep walking while we have daylight to see. Put as much distance between us and them, just in case they have discovered the tunnels and are in pursuit, he suggested.


    As you say, Lord Hubert. You may lead on, Theodoramanded. The count inclined his head briefly, and the rest of the party rose to follow him north.


    ~~~~


    Their speed was slow as the terrain was rocky and uneven; the tunnels had to some extent been man-made and thus more even, but this area was deste and not meant for travels. As always, Hubert was in the lead with the king and queen close behind him and the des scattered across the group, keeping a watchful eye.


    They had not been walking for long when one of the guards called out. Your Majesties, he said loudly and pointed west. Look! Over the open heath and against the horizon could be seen the shape of a rider. The distance was so great, they could see nothing but the ck form of a man mounted on a horse, and presumably, he could see nothing more of them, only small shapes on foot against the mountainside; such would be enough, however. The rider turned his horse and departed swiftly from the reach of their vision.


    Pick up the pace, said Hubert. We walk through the night, lose them in the dark. A few sighs born either out of fear or exasperation could be heard, but noneined. They increased their speed and continued walking north along Mount Tothmor.


    The sun was slowly sinking on the horizon; it was still summer even ifte in the season. Several members of the small procession kept ncing west, scouting for riders as well as measuring the remainder of the suns journey. The shadows grew long, and they might have breathed more easily if they were not so exhausted; then their fears materialised on the horizon.


    A pack of riders numbering around twenty appeared, their direction clear; it was east, headed straight for the small band. Faster! Hubertmanded, and several of the des took hold of the elderlydies arms to help them keep their bnce and to walk swifter.


    A quarter of an hour passed in anxious silence except for the sound of boots hitting ground. Finally, Hubert raised a hand to signal they would stop. They are too swift, he admitted, crouching and leaning on his knees as he gasped for air. They will reach us before nightfall.


    We will have to fight, Leander said in acknowledgement, and the count gave a faint nod.


    Give me a weapon, Theodora told her husband in between deep breaths.


    Let the des handle the fight, Leander replied, equally short on air. Them and the count and me. Not you.


    I will, Theodora consented, but I will not stand here defenceless. Your knife at least.


    Leander did not argue but handed her his knife. He stepped close and embraced her tightly, not letting go. Whatever happens  he said without conclusion.


    I know, Theodora replied, not letting go either.


    Huberts eyes nced over the group. About ten des, Baldwin, Leander, and himself. All of them armed only with swords, as they had not brought shields or spears with them, facing twice as many riders. He was an old and experienced warrior and knew how weapons, horses, and terrain mattered in the calctions of war; there was only one possible oue. We need more defensive grounds, he told his des.


    The area breaks more over there, milord, said one of them. That will slow the speed of their horses.


    We need those unarmed kept back, Hubert considered.


    There, another de pointed out. The cliff cuts into the mountainside. We cover the entrance.


    It is wide, Hubert said doubtingly.


    Better than being vulnerable from all sides, argued a third.


    Very well, Hubert agreed. Help thedies. We make our stand there.


    There was briefmotion as the group broke up and began moving as directed, but then Baldwin suddenly ran forward several steps and stared towards the band of approaching riders. Something odd, he said as he strained his eyes.


    Baldwin, you have your position! Hubert growled.


    Their coats, Baldwin said undeterred. The riders were now so close that details of their appearance could be discerned. They are not red. They look  ck, he eximed, nearly shouting thest word. The star, he said in repetition, the star! I see him, I see him! he yelled and caught all by surprise as he sprinted forward towards the group of riders. He did not do so with a brandished sword but with arms raised above his head, waving wildly. The rest of the group stood amazed, unable to interpret this new development. Their expressions turned into pure astonishment as the rider in front stopped his horse just shy of Baldwin, dismounted, and embraced the squire.


    I will be Hels whore, Hubert cursed. That boy was right. He will be insufferable to listen to now.


    Right? Leander asked in utter confusion. What about?


    No man stronger in battle, Hubert muttered. Did not calcte that, he added, but his gruff exterior could not remain and finally it cracked into a grin. Do you not recognise their surcoats yet? Those are Order knights, and I will bet my title that the knight with Baldwin is Sir William.


    ~~~~


    The riders closed the final distance between the royal retinue and themselves in a more leisurely pace, William and Baldwin walking together. The squire wore a blissful expression, while Williams was neutral. Your Majesty, he said, inclining his head towards Theodora.


    Sir William, she replied courteously. It would seem your reputation is well-earned.


    We were fortunate in the battle. Once we had dyed the enemys pursuit of ourrades, we were able to pull away and make our own retreat. Unfortunately it was forced into a different direction, and thus we were unable to re-join you in defence of the city.


    You have been out on the moors ever since? Leander asked impressed.


    I along with more than three hundred knights, William nodded. There were audible sighs of relief from several of those present upon hearing that such a number of the Orders elite warriors had survived the battle. We have split into smaller divisions to harass and observe the enemy as best possible. One of my ownpany spotted you, and we thought you were an ounder patrol.


    We are blessed that you have kept such watch, Theodora told the knight. Without you, this area might have been crawling with them and our escape far more doubtful.


    We did as we should, William simply said. But I presume the city has fallen? You fled through the escape tunnels?


    Oh, so I should presume these tunnels aremon knowledge to everyone but me, Dianeined, though none paid her heed.


    It has, Leander said with a thick voice. We defended it as best we could, but we could notst. They were relentless, exhausting all our defences.


    I am d to see you were able to avoid capture or death, William said, ncing at Hubert and Baldwin. The marshal?


    Sir Leonard led the final stand, Hubert said, his voice almost neutral. His honour has been made immortal.


    William was silent for a moment at these tidings. I did not know him well, but he was my marshal when I first trained in the Order. His honour, as you say, will not be forgotten.


    We will forget nothing, Theodora said with a strong voice. We will return to retake what is ours.


    Indeed, Your Majesty. There is little more for my men to achieve at present, William said, nodding again. With Tothmor gone, the enemy will overrun the rest of Hthiod easily. We will retreat alongside Your Majesty, he said and gestured towards Theodora, and my knights can be the spearhead of a new army when we return.


    I agree with your n, boy, Hubert said. Though surely the rest of the realm will not be overrun so quickly. The ounders must have lost thousands in their assaults upon Tothmor.


    No doubt, William agreed, but they have received reinforcements. Another army, although much smaller than the first, has crossed the Langstan. I suspect they will besiege the southern counties next. None of the cities has the defences Tothmor has. It will take them a few weeks at most.


    Another army? Leander intervened. Did you say the ounders have sent another army?


    More like reinforcements, William corrected. Probably their supply lines did not allow them to join the initial invasion. But yes, my men have seen it with their own eyes, and presumably more were to arrive before we had to withdraw our scouts. I would not be surprised if there are twenty thousand ounders spread out over Hthiod. Silence followed as this number sank in. Forgive me, you wear the royal arms of Hthiod, but I do not recognise you, William spoke to Leander.


    Sir William, this is my husband, Leander, king of Hthiod, Theodora introduced, taking hold of Leanders arm. She still held Leanders knife in her other hand but finally rxed her hold and returned it to her husband.


    Probably other titles in there as well, but it gets unwieldy fast, Leander said lightly. Leander will do.


    Yes, Your Majesty, William replied, inclining his head.


    Twenty thousand, Hubert suddenly eximed. Are you certain?


    It is an estimate, William said with a shrug. Based on their initial numbers, what we presume they lost at the battle and afterwards taking the city, and then added what we have seen of reinforcements. More are on their way, the knight said ominously. Train after train of supplies. They have an arrow for every man, woman, and child in the Seven Realms. This is not merely an invasion of Hthiod. I cannot think otherwise than that they have designs upon all of Adalmearc.


    Once again, none knew what to say when faced with this revtion. At length William spoke again. It is almost night, he said, grabbing the reins of his horse. I will send some of the men to gather the others. The rest of us should continue marching. With the city in their hands, we must expect the ounders to send patrols in force to take control of the surroundings.


    Of course, Theodora epted. Let us continue.


    Those weary can borrow our horses, William offered, and while some of the knights rode west to bring word, the others dismounted and gave their steeds to the worn members of the queens retinue. When all were ready, the band with its new members continued on a journey leading north and west towards war-torn Adalrik.

 Chapter 33: Sacred

    Chapter 33: Sacred


    Sacred


    Middanhal


    After the jarl of Isarns uprising, a period of violence in Middanhal followed. With the city guard being killed or kept back inside the Citadel, chaos ruled the streets. The jarl himself had returned north to hisnds in order to finish the muster of all his soldiers. Most of their forces already assembled had departed with Eumund south, leaving only a small garrison of Isarn soldiers to guard the city and its streets, and many of them were spent encircling the Citadel and keeping watch against the remaining Order soldiers. Thus, it took the Isarn forces many days to restore control of the city.


    In the meantime, old enmities were revisited and scores were settled, in particr by northern nobles against southern. This was often done with the presumption that the jarl Isarn would not punish such an act once he returned to the capital, nor would or could his son and heir, Isenwald, who for the time being ruled Middanhal in the jarls name.


    With blood being shed in the holy city of Adalmearc, many looked towards the Temple. Its great doors still stood open, and it remained guarded by the Temr knights; these warriors did not venture forth, however, but remained within the boundaries of the sanctuary. Some of the priesthoods, in particr the norns and theiry brothers who were responsible for tending to the sick and injured, could be found on the streets attempting to aid those wounded in the shes, but there was little they could do amidst the chaos. Furthermore, in the confusion, sometimes even their robes did not protect them from falling victim as well.


    Within the halls of the Temple, there was also bewilderment. Each of the six priesthoods had their own living quarters and their own high priest or priestess, but they shared and mingled freely in the rest of the great domain that made up the Templeplex. There were thus constant discussions back and forth, as each priesthood had its own reaction towards the uprising.


    The whiterobes were strongly in favour of grabbing their hammers, all to a man, going out onto the streets, using their favoured instruments on everybody with a weapon, and letting the gods decide the rest. Being very few in numbers, however, they showed unusual restraint and had so far restricted themselves to merely considering the idea.


    The greenrobes, also few in numbers, were mostly worried about the waterways and aqueducts that supplied the Temple and its gardens with water. They argued in favour of sending the Temrs out to safeguard the constructions that diverted part of the river into the Temple reservoirs; the geolrobes supported this. The ckrobes were divided; nominally speaking, the Temple was their institution above all, and they were by far the most numerous of the six priesthoods in Middanhal. Some of them felt as the whiterobes did, while others, more peacefully inclined, wanted to close the Temple doors and wait it all out. Their high priest seemed undecided and had not spoken for or against any of the suggestions.


    Regardless, although the ckrobes were strongest represented, they were only one out of the priesthoods, and the high priest of Rihimil could not speak normand the other orders. There was only one person with the authority to do so, wearing an unadorned robe of grey hue, who so far had been silent. Like all the others in the Temple, this grey-robed priest lived in a simple cell; while the other priesthoods had their assigned living quarters, however, this cell was set apart from the rest. Ity very close to the Hall of Holies, near the heart of the Temple and the hill upon which it was built.


    A knock was heard upon the door to the cell; from inside, a voice gave permission to enter. As the door opened, it revealed the entirety of the chamber. It was a small room with nothing more than a simple bed and drawers on which stood a bowl of water and a candle providing light. On the bed was sitting an old man in a linen tunic; in his hands he held a grey robe and sewing tools used to mend a tear. Around his neck could be seen a thin silver chain; its pendant was the holy symbol of his office, though he wore it against his skin underneath the tunic.


    Brother Septimus, came the greeting from the person entering. It was a woman of some fifty years, probably a decade younger than the old man sitting on the bed; while his robe was grey and unadorned, hers was deep red with a ck raven embroidered upon it. Furthermore, the patterns showed her to be the high priestess of her order in Middanhal.


    Sister Adh, to what do I owe the pleasure? asked the Highfather as he raised his eyes to greet her, though his fingers did not stop meticulously sewing the rift in his robes. While his face and dialect hinted of Korndale, Adh was more diverse. She had the slightly sonorous dialect of the natives of Ealond, whereas her name and appearance spoke of Alczar, the same as Quill.


    I havee to ask, Holy One, the priestess began to speak, and the reverence of her choice of words was gainsaid by her stern tone of voice, whether you would speak to the orders here at the Temple and instruct us on what to do.


    I did not realise such was necessary, the aged Septimus said calmly, returning his gaze to his mending.


    It is. We need your voice to cut through the noise, Adh insisted.


    How so? What is happening?


    Nothing, Adh stressed. It has been days of violence, and we are doing nothing about what is taking ce in the city.


    Then there is no need for me to speak, Septimus said in his undisturbed voice.


    On the contrary, Adh urged. There are hundreds of priests and priestesses at the Temple. If we armed ourselves


    I am the spiritual leader of these people, Septimus cut in, not their captain of war. It is not my ce tomand them, certainly not to take up arms.


    Then the Temrs, Adh suggested, her voice retaining all of its insistence. They will do whatever you ask. All fifty of them could storm Jarl Isarns house, free the captives.


    Septimus raised his eyes to gaze at the priestess. It is the task of the Order to maintain the peace of the realm, not the task of this Temple, he said serenely. It is not within my authority to make such decisions.


    But the Temrs are knights of the Order, Adh countered, cing her hands on her hips. Surely it is their duty to fight and liberate the city.


    If so, the Order must make the decision and give themand, Septimus continued, finishing his needlework. Not I.


    Why not you, Brother Septimus? the norn asked with narrowed eyes. There are none others who can, none others to resist. Surely your duty


    My duty, the Highfather said as he stood, is to this Temple. He ced a hand against the wall, touching the stonework. Standing up evened some of the height difference between them, but he still had to look up. Despite the physical disadvantage, the old man met her gaze with confidence. This is hallowed ground, and I have a sacred trust to protect these halls no matter what. For a thousand years, my predecessors have kept this charge. I will not be the one to throw it away, attacking the jarls forces and giving him cause to attack this Temple in turn, Septimus said pointedly.


    What good is this Temple if we are powerless to stop these rebels, these viins? Adh retorted furiously, unimpressed by her superiors speech.


    This very hill is the foundation of the Seven Realms, Septimus said, his words spoken as calmly as Adhs were spoken with passion. If we must endure this temporal evil to preserve the permanent sanctity of this Temple, so be it. Now I must ask you to grant me privacy. I wish to pray alone.


    Adh was on the verge of further objections, but she remained silent, turned on her heel, and left. Behind her, the aged high priest sat down on the bed again, and one hand dug under his tunic to pull out the symbol of his office. It was a seven-pointed star made from heavy iron, which he held in his grasp as he sat; he breathed deeply as his knuckles turned white from gripping the pendant. Exhaling, Septimus rose and walked over to turn the key in the door to his room. Once it was locked, he put on his grey robes. Then, steeling himself for the exertion, he pulled and pushed his bed away along with the carpet on which it stood.


    Once the floor had been uncovered, a small hatch revealed itself. Kneeling by it, Septimus removed his ne before inserting the pendant into the trap door. Once in ce, he could turn the seven-pointed symbol and unlock it, allowing him to open the hatch. It revealed a staircase disappearing into the depths of the ground. Getting up, Septimus took the lit candle from its ce on the drawers and made his descent.


    ~~~~


    From the outside, the Isarn manor seemed almost deste with only a few guards by the gate and walls. Most of their soldiers were concentrated in the city, restoring order to the streets or maintaining the siege around the Citadel, which was still held by the Orders forces. Inside the various buildings of the Isarnpound, however, there were plenty of people. More than a hundred prisoners from the feast, ranging fromndgraves, margraves, and their families to thanes and servants unfortunate enough to have been present. Those ofmon birth had been thrown together in therger halls, while those of higher standing had been given guest rooms. Space was still scarce, though, so they were forced to share rather than having their own, private room, as they were ustomed to.


    In one of these improvised cells, situated on the top floor with a window overlooking the courtyard, the noblewomen Theodwyn, Arndis, and Eleanor had been confined. It was not by ident they were roomed together. The other hostages had been divided ording to rank to different parts of the house; as the sister to the jarl of Theodstan, Theodwyn was of greater value than Arndis and Eleanor, who did not have rtives of any importance. However, Theodwyn had grabbed the hands of the other two and refused to be separated from them in another disy of disdain for the weapons of the Isarn soldiers. The steward of the house, having enough matters to deal with, had readily conceded rather than expend energy on forcing the issue. Despite this small victory, the mood inside the room was low. By the door was a small drawer, on which stood a vase with withering flowers.


    I feel like those flowers look, Theodwyn muttered darkly.


    Anything happening? Eleanor asked, sitting on the bed. Her question was directed at Arndis, who was standing by the window.


    Nothing. The yard is empty, Arndis replied, though that did not make her abandon her post, and she continued to gaze out, scrutinising everything within view.


    It has been four days, Theodwyn remarked, pacing back and forth irregrly. Which means today is Laugday. Yet these brutes do not offer us water, no baths. I have never been so poorly treated!


    I would die for a bath, Eleanor said dreamingly.


    We are not guests, Arndis pointed out, but prisoners. I do not think they would offer us the same hospitality.


    It is Laugday, Theodwyn reiterated. It is our gods-granted right to have a bath. Even the lowliest servant will have that luxury today, and we shall not? sheined.


    The jarl does not strike me as a man who listens toints, Eleanor said quietly. She was not wearing her customary veil, and she was absent-mindedly tracing the scars on her cheek with her fingers.


    The jarl is not here, Arndis mentioned, turning to look at the other women. I saw him leave the morning after the feast, and I have seen no sign of his return.


    Who is in charge of the city then? Theodwyn pondered. He must have left someone.


    I hope it is not that brutish thane of his, Eleanor shuddered. He gives me a creeping sensation down my spine.


    His son, Arndis said. I have seen him a few times entering or leaving the house.


    Some knight that son turned out to be, Theodwyn all but spat. Forsaking his vows mere days after taking them.


    Not Eumund, Arndis said tonelessly. The eldest son, I forget his name.


    Isenwald, Theodwyn remarked thoughtfully. He is of a different breed than his father.


    Really? I would have thought all these Isarn swartlings were the same, Eleanormented.


    No, Isenwald is something quite else, Theodwyn added contemtively. I think he may be more amiable towards requests, she finished her thought.


    She walked over and opened the door to the hallway. Looking outside, she was quickly spotted by a guard, who hurried down the corridor. Get back inside, he barked as he approached with a spear in hand.


    I wish to see your master, Theodwyn said, taking a step outside. You will take me to him.


    Hel I will, the guardughed with a sneer.


    I am Theodwyn, sister to the jarl of Theodstan, she said angrily. How dare you refuse me!


    The guard raised the blunt end of his spear, threatening to use it as a staff to push Theodwyn back. Youre all some noblemans wife or child up here, he said indifferently. I dont care if youre Sigvard himselfe back in the flesh, you stay in your room.


    Theodwyn did her best to stare the guard down, but he stood his ground and would not let her pass; finally realising he was adamant, she gave a huff and stepped inside, mming the door. Vile little man, the jarls sister burst out. How dare he!


    Sigvard, Arndis said slowly, looking at the now closed door while Eleanor retreated a few steps from Theodwyns fury.


    What? Theodwyn eximed.


    Even if you were Sigvard in the flesh. That is what he said, Arndis repeated. What if he did face Sigvard?


    Arndis, are you well? Eleanor asked concerned.


    The young woman did not answer herpanion but simply walked over and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. The guard, who had barely had time to walk away, immediately turned around. Get back, you! he all but shouted.


    I am Arndis, she said calmly, of House Arnling.


    Dont care if youre Hel in a dress, the guard said with contempt. Get back inside now, he said, raising his spear in a threatening manner; this time, he was pointing the sharp end at the noblewoman.


    I am a descendant of Arn, descendant of Sigvard, Arndis continued, her tone of voice retaining its calmness.


    You could be my mother and Id still stick this  what? The guard had been on the verge of tapping his spear point into Arndis stomach, but he cut off both his own gesture and sentence.


    I am a descendant of Sigvard. My blood is sacrosanct, Arndis exined to him as she moved one hand near the spearhead. Do you know what will happen to you if you spill the blood of Sigvard?


    The guard swallowed, taking a step back; Arndis followed him, stepping forward and now lightly touching the steel of the spear. Stay back, the guard mumbled, but his body was frozen as if Arndis touch upon his spear had rendered him paralysed.


    You will take me to your lord, Arndis stated. You will do so now.


    Fine, the guard relented, fine. Ill do it, just dont He did not finish speaking, but Arndis removed her hand from his spear point. As the guard turned around to lead the way, Arndis let out a deep breath. For a moment, her expression turned to relief before sheposed herself and followed the guard down the corridor.


    ~~~~


    Isenwald sat in his fathers study, upying the jarls chair. The heir to the jarldom of Isarn was looking at the desk with a map of the city; upon ity small figurines taken from the nearby chess set, acting as crude markers for the deployment of their forces. The sixteen white pieces were scattered around the city, some by the gates and the rest in a ring around the Citadel. Inside were ced several ck pieces to signify the Order forces still holding the fortress.


    What  did my fathers message say? Isenwald asked, looking up at Ulfrik. The captain of Isarns thanes was standing on the other side of the desk, looking down on the map.


    Another month and the jarl will be here, Ulfrik said in his growling voice. We can make our assault then. But we should begin to make preparations for it already now.


    Should we not focus  our efforts on securing Lowtown first? Isenwald asked. I hear - there are riots everywhere.


    Just peasants andmonborn people bleeding each other out, Ulfrik said dismissively. It is not worth spending our efforts on as long as they stick to Lowtown.


    But  is  it not  our responsibility  Isenwald began to say haltingly.


    Your father cares about the Citadel, not Lowtown, Ulfrik interrupted brusquely.


    As you say, Isenwald conceded.


    The steward entered, bringing a meal on a tray to Isenwald. Thank you, the young nobleman said, nodding to the servant.


    My pleasure, milord. I came to ask you about some of the  guests, the steward said, a tad nervous.


    Not now, Ulfrik interjected. His lordship and I have other things to discuss first.


    Of course, milord, the steward was quick to say, followed by a bow.


    Before anything further could be said, however, a guard appeared in the open doorway; behind him stood Arndis. As they arrived, it became clear that the guard was unsure how to proceed. Seeing his masters, the words died in his throat, and he stood indecisively in the doorway, neither entering nor leaving.


    Ulfrik ended the guards uncertain misery as the thane walked over with a scowl. What in Hels name are you doing? Get that prisoner back to her room, he sneered. Enough with these interruptions.


    Yes, master, the guard stammered, its just, she said she was dragonborn, well, not that exactly, but I wasnt sure what to do


    Are you more useless than the arses on Hels horse? Ulfrik nearly roared into the guards face. Your only task is to keep the prisoners in their rooms, how is that beyond you?


    Pardon me, master, the guard said, I was afraid if I cut her, shed bleed, there were those two sent wood-walking once because they hurt his stream of words died as Ulfrik sent him an incredulous nce.


    She is a prisoner. She has no power to do anything. Nor does any other dragonborn, the thane said with gritted teeth. You could cut her head off, kick it down the street, and no one would care, Ulfrik yelled.


    If you will excuse me, Arndis cut in, I came to speak with your lord, not you, she said, looking past Ulfrik and into the room where Isenwald sat.


    You will march straight back or I swear to Hel Ill grind my axe on your teeth, Ulfrik said threateningly, moving one hand behind his back to where his weapon was strapped.


    Ulfrik, Isenwald said, raising his voice as well as standing up. She  is here now, let her speak.


    Ulfrik turned to look at Isenwald; the thanes expression was indecipherable, somewhere between anger and disbelief. At length he stepped aside, remaining silent as Arndis stepped forward.


    Yes, mydy? Isenwald said questioningly.


    Today is Laugday, Arndis began to exin. None of us, your guests, she said slowly, choosing her words with care, have taken a bath in a week. Since we are enjoying your hospitality indefinitely, we are wondering


    Of course, Isenwald said in acquiescence, I would not  dream  of  denying you yourforts  on Laugday. Oswald, he continued, looking at his steward. Make sure something  is arranged for  our guests. Let  thedy have whatever she needs.


    Very well, milord, Oswald bowed, disappearing out of the room.


    Thank you, my lord, Arndis said kindly to Isenwald. I shall return to my room now, she added, ncing at Ulfrik before she left under escort from the guard.


    ~~~~


    A few hourster, there was a knock on the door to where Arndis, Theodwyn, and Eleanor were kept imprisoned. Outside stood a servant, who led them to the baths in the manor. It was down in the servants quarters even though those of higher standing usually took their Laugday baths in their own chambers. If any of the women were bothered by this, all such thoughts were dispelled at the sight of hot water inrge stone vessels, from which steam rose.


    They quickly undressed and entered the water while female servants flittered about, collecting their clothes and asionally exchanging the water in the vessels when it lost heat. The bath did its task exemry; the tension felt by all three women could be seen dissipating, and their limbs as well as their concerns rxed even if only for a while. For the first time in days, they could smile again, evenugh.


    At length they were finished and dried themselves while sorting through the spare clothesid out for them by the servants, measuring and trying to find the best fit. They were still in the process when a young woman entered with a small boy, two years old at the most. Although their clothes showed signs of having been worn for days, it was obviously of a rich cut, marking them as nobility.


    Forgive me, I did not realise it was upied, the woman quickly said.


    No matter, Arndis said in a friendly manner, turning around with the clothes she had selected for herself. We were about to leave.


    I am Lady Theodwyn, sister to the jarl of Theodstan, Theodwyn introduced herself before finally choosing between the ck pieces of attire avable.


    Lady Eleanor of Tothmor, Eleanor said, quickly cing her veil over her face.


    Lady Richilde of Ingmond, the woman replied, inclining her head. My son, Raymond, like his father.


    Arndis of House Arnling, Arndis said as thest. You have a beautiful son, she added courteously.


    Thank you, Richilde smiled and began disrobing; reaching her underdress, she stopped and ced one hand on her stomach. Her smile was briefly disturbed by an expression of concern caught by Theodwyn.


    You are with child, the tall woman said, directing her scrutinising gaze towards Richildes slightly curved stomach.


    Yes, the jarlinna replied, biting her lip for a moment.


    And you are worried, Theodwyn continued.


    Yes, Richilde acknowledged. I have no specific cause to be, merely that the circumstances are a bit distressing, she said, ncing towards some of the servants in the room. And I miss my husband. They took him away, she added quietly.


    What if one of the norns visited you? She could examine you and assure you everything is as it should be, Arndis suggested.


    That would be wonderful, Richilde said with relief. Do you think that would be permitted?


    Let us find out, Arndis said, returning the smile and gesturing for one of the servants. Find the steward of the house and tell him I should wish to speak with him.


    Yes, mdy, the servant girl answered and hurried out the door.


    Raymond, no, Richilde said sternly as the little boy, who had climbed onto a chair, was now reaching out towards Eleanors veil.


    No harm done, Eleanors voice came softly from behind the cloth, though she took a step backwards and out of the boys reach. He is very handsome, Eleanor remarked after a pause as Richilde grabbed the boy, pulled him down from the chair, and began to undress him.


    Thank you, the jarlinna beamed a smile. I cannot wait to see him grow up, be like his father. I have prayed nearly every day at our temple in Inghold that he may thrive.


    They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Mdy, you wished to see me? a voice was heard through the door.


    Indeed, Arndis said as she opened the door slightly ajar, protecting the modesty of the other women. The jarlinna of Ingmond wishes for a norn to examine her and her unborn child when possible, she exined.


    Of course, the steward said. I will send a request to the Temple.


    Perhaps afford others the same courtesy? There may be others of your guests that have need of speaking with the norns, Arndis suggested.


    I will make arrangements, the steward promised, and Arndis closed the door again.


    Thank you, Richilde said with deep-seated gratitude in her voice.


    It was no trouble at all, Arndis said graciously as she and her twopanions finished dressing themselves and returned to their room.


    ~~~~


    Since Laugday was not dedicated to any of the gods, fewer people came to the Temple and the Hall of Holies to give offerings or pray. The priests and priestesses therefore usually carried out many minor duties on this day, typically finishing by taking their baths. The norns, the most numerous of the orders in Middanhal except for the ckrobes, were often busier than most. Apart from their regr duties, people were still giving birth, falling ill, or dying regardless of which day of the week it was, which meant that there were constantly norns leaving to attend to patients. Theiry brothers shouldered some of that burden, but they were still sufficiently shorthanded that every red-robed member of the Order of the Raven, even the high priestess herself, spent Laugday tending to chores.


    One part of the great Templeplex was the washing room. Using water guided from the river into the Temple, the priests and priestesses could wash their clothes. Adh was tending to this with a few of her acolytes when another came bearing a message. While her younger sisters in the order were chatting andughing, the high priestess had been quiet, contemtive, and it took her a moment to register that someone was speaking to her.


    Sister Adh?


    Yes? the norn replied at length.


    Someone came with a message, the acolyte told her nervously. They wait for a reply.


    Well? Adh asked impatiently as she let go of the wet fabric in her hands and stood up.


    It is from the Isarn house, her young sister exined. Theyre asking the norns toe and attend to their guests. Make sure they are all well.


    They are asking us toe to them? Enter their house? Adh asked, sounding a little incredulous.


    Thats what I understood, the acolyte said, fidgeting with her robe. Are we going to say no? I would have thought its our duty to help them if they are in need.


    No, no, we will go, Adh reassured her. Tell them we will arrive tomorrow with both sibyls andy brothers to attend to all their needs, the high priestess informed the younger woman, who nodded and disappeared. Adh returned to her clothes, washing them with slow motions and a pensive expression on her face.


    ~~~~


    The following day was Rilday. Dedicated to Rihimil, the patron deity of Adalrik, it was as popr a day for Temple visits as Laugday was not. Already early in the morning, crowds were gathering to give offerings when Adh and her entourage of fellow priestesses andy brothers left the Temple. Order had been restored to most of the city except for Lowtown, and many citizens were seizing the chance to worship now that the streets were rtively safe.


    Choosing to leave the Temple through a smaller door, the group of norns andy brothers managed to avoid most of the people moving towards the Temple square. Since they were expected at the Isarn manor, the guards let them pass the gate with little trouble; five norns and sixy brothers entered, and they were guided by the residents to where their potential patients were.


    Eventually there was a knock on the door to the room where Arndis, Theodwyn, and Eleanor stayed. Thetter veiled herself while Theodwyn bid the person knocking to enter. A young woman, dressed in the red robes of the norns, cautiously opened the door and peeked inside. I am Sister Constance, she introduced herself. Are any of yourdyships in need of my aid?


    Not as such, Theodwyn replied. But we should wee to hear tidings from the city, she added, beckoning the priestess to step inside. We have not heard anything for days.


    As you wish, the norn said, stepping inside. She nced nervously at the corridor from where guardsmen could be heard talking idly before she closed the door behind her. What do you want to know?


    What can you tell us? Theodwyn responded. What has happened in the city? How have the ns of Jarl Isarn advanced?


    The city is quiet for now, Constance said, her eyes shifting from person to person. Except Lowtown. There are riots, they say. Few of us have left the Temple since this all started, I do not know much, she admitted.


    But the jarl rules the city uncontested? Theodwyn asked impatiently.


    Yes. Except for the Citadel, Constance added. They are besieging it, but it is still held by the Order.


    That is good news, is it not? Eleanor said, her voice sounding soft behind the veil. That means their control of the city is tenuous.


    Indeed it is, Theodwyn smiled triumphantly. Add to that the Order forces at Lake Myr and we will be freed soon enough.


    Oh, Constance uttered as a shadow fell across her face. Messengers arrivedtest night. A battle was fought.


    And? Theodwyn urged her.


    Word is that Sir Athelstan destroyed the Order army at Myr. They are scattered in the wind or dead, the norn said quietly.


    He does not deserve that title anymore, Theodwyn sneered, but there was little strength in her anger. Thank you, Sister Constance, she mumbled. You may leave us. The sister bowed her head and left quickly. Damn them, Theodwyn muttered, damn all the spawns of Isarn to Hels pit.


    Surely this is only a temporary misfortune, Eleanor tried to assure Theodwyn as she removed her veil and her voice came clearer. The Order and its knights are too strong to ever lose.


    I have not spoken of this in case anybody was listening, but it does not matter any longer, Theodwyn said to her youngpanion. My brother rode to Lake Myr. That was the reason for our deception at the feast. He is not in the Citadel. It was our hope he could warn them in time, have Athelstan arrested, bring the army back to Middanhal.


    You knew? Eleanor eximed. You knew what the jarl was nning to do?


    We did, Theodwyn nodded. All for naught. There are no Order forces left in Adalrik now. It is why I urged you not to attend the feast that night, she continued as she turned to look at Arndis; further words were stuck in her throat as she saw the expression on herpanions face. Arndis had moved to sit down on a corner chair in the room; she was staring straight ahead, her eyes unfocused.


    Arndis? Eleanor said slowly, cautiously approaching her friend. Are you not well?


    My brother was at Lake Myr, she said with little more than a whisper. He was going with the army to Hthiod.


    Oh, Eleanor said, unable to find other words as she sped her hands together.


    He was Athelstans squire, was he not? Theodwyn interjected, her ordinarily harsh voice turned softer. Perhaps he was not with the army. Perhaps he joined Athelstan and the Isarn forces instead.


    Are those my choices? Arndis eximed, her eyes watery. My brother is either dead or a traitor? When neither of the other two spoke, she continued. He was the only family I had left. I am all alone once more. I have no one.


    You are not alone, Eleanor said, finally grabbing Arndis hand and squeezing it to console her.


    Arndis swallowed the emotions stuck in her throat and pulled her hands free. Standing up, she wiped her eyes dry. It is no matter, she said, walking over to the small window to gaze out at the courtyard. I am Arndis of House Arnling. I will bear what I must.


    ~~~~


    Some hourster, the norns andy brothers could be witnessed crossing the courtyard and leaving the Isarn manor, five red robes and six brown. Most of the day passed with little out of the ordinary; as the first evening bell rang, however, there was suddenlymotion and heavy boots running in every direction both inside and outside the buildings.


    In the entrance hall, Ulfrik came in from the courtyard with his customaryrge axe on his back and harsh look in his eyes. They nced around, searching for the source of the disturbance. A soldier came running from another hall; as Ulfrik spotted him, he raised his hand tomand the others attention. Ernulf, he called out, and the soldier hastened to where Ulfrik stood.


    Ernulf was armed and wearing the surcoat with Isarns red and ck colours. Yet he also wore a heavy silver ne and his sword hilt wasid with gold, marks of wealth that revealed his status as a thane rather than amon soldier. Captain, Ernulf said, out of breath.


    Speak up, Ulfrik said brusquely.


    Some of the prisoners have escaped. Thendgrave of Beaumont and his wife. We are checking the rest, Ernulf exined.


    How? Ulfriks eyes narrowed.


    Damn norns, Ernulf uttered. Gave their robes to the prisoners and put on their clothes instead. They marched right out of here, pretending to be ay brother and a priestess.


    I told the guards to be watchful, to be present! Ulfrik eximed angrily.


    They slipped, Ernulf acknowledged. Didnt stay vignt. We only found out because a servant saw that the woman dressed as thendgraves wife was actually one of the norns who entered earlier.


    Take the thanes, Ulfrikmanded, go to the Temple, and demand our prisoners returned.


    What if they have slipped from the city already? Ernulf enquired.


    Then you demand every red-robed hag involved to be handed over to us, Ulfrik said coldly. I will deal with the guards responsible, he added menacingly.


    Should we inform the jarls son?


    Leave that in my hands. You have your task, go, Ulfrikmanded and turned away, leaving to attend to his own purpose.


    ~~~~


    It was approaching nightfall when twenty thanes of Isarn along with arger number ofmon soldiers marched up the steps towards the Temple. All were heavily armed; their expressions were grim rather than pious. As they reached the top of the stairs and the small teau with its columns in front of the entrance, the two Temrs reacted; they stepped forward towards Ernulf, the leader of the warriors.


    The Highfather has forbidden any weapons being brought onto Temple grounds, one of the Temrs told him. Inside the opening past the great doors, priests andmoners were gathering, watching with both fear and fascination at the confrontation.


    Convenient, Ernulf sneered. But we have a matter to settle. Unless the two of you want to see your own innards, step aside.


    We are Temrs, the other knight said. Both had their hands on the hilt of their swords, though they were keeping them sheathed so far. We will fight any foe we must in ordance to our sacred duty as protectors of this ce. You will not set foot inside the Temple.


    You have people in there that belongs to us, Ernulf roared. You will hand them over to us, or we will take them by our own hand!


    There are fifty Temrs defending this ce, the first knight retorted. Do you really favour your odds against such a force? Not even with ten times as many could you hope to prevail.


    You boast, Ernulf said with a wolfs smile, but I doubt you have the bite.


    ~~~~


    While this took ce, some of the priests and priestesses had run inside; one of them went straight towards where the norns were, seeking out the high priestess. Sister Adh, Sister Adh, she called out until the bronze-skinned woman appeared.


    What is the cause of this shouting? the elder norn said as she appeared from a room.


    Isarns men are here, the younger priestess gasped. They want the prisoners, the ones we brought here.


    Sister? What is happening? asked a woman dressed as one of the nobility. Are they taking us back?


    Nothing to fear, mydy, Adh responded. You and Lord Beaumont have sanctuary here, you will not be handed over.


    But what if they attack? the woman asked anxiously.


    Then the Temrs will repel them. In fact, we should only hope they would be stupid enough to try, Adh reassured thedy of Beaumont. A pensive expression flittered across the priestess face; she turned towards the sister who had brought her the news. Are they at the front entrance? Isarns men, along with the Temrs?


    Yes, Sister, the priestess nodded. They looked like they areing to blows.


    Stay here, Adhmanded the norns, acolytes, and novices as she hurried out of their quarters.


    Moving towards the Hall of Holies and the front gate, Adh found the corridors full of people running about. Some were headed towards themotion like herself; others fled from it. Most of these people were wearing robes, but a few wore the armour and surcoat of the Temrs, a white ash tree on ck. All of the knights were moving in the same direction as Adh, gathering towards the great entrance.


    The Hall of Holies was full of people whispering and talking nervously, creating a sound like a horde of locusts had been loosened inside the building. The Temrs moving to reinforce easily cut through the crowd, however, and filtered out onto the teau in front of the doors. Following in their wake, Adh reached the small area at the top of the stairs. Swords were drawn now on both sides, but so far, neither had made the first move.


    There! That one, she was there this morning! Bring her here! Ernulf eximed as he spotted Adh, easily recognisable. The thane tried to move forward to reach her, but the Temrs kept him from reaching the top stairs. I will not ask again, Ernulf sneered with gritted teeth, sword in hand. Stand aside.


    Or what? Adhs voice rang out. She stepped forward onto the teau until she was near the top of the stairs; there were now only a few Temrs between her and the Isarn soldiers. You will attack? You will defile this Temple? You are not the masters of this ce, she said defiantly with eyes zing. Attack if you dare!


    The murmurs of the armed men surrounding the ce were rising to a storm as were tempers. Shouts came from the thanes and soldiers gathered up the stairway towards the Temple entrance, and Ernulf nced back. A readiness for violence could be read in their faces.


    What is this? A voice broke through the noise; it belonged to an old man sounding frail, but he spoke with confidence. A short figure pushed its way through the many robes and reached the small area in front of the entrance. He wore a grey robe, unadorned and yet granting him authority that made all move out of his way.


    Silence fell as Septimus spoke; none seemed to know what to answer the high priest. He moved until he stood where the stairs reached the teau, standing between the two Temrs who had been arguing with Ernulf. The thane was standing a step lower on the stairway, meaning he and the high priest were on eye level.


    Do you know who I am? Septimus asked. His voice carried no arrogance or severity; he posed the question very simply as if he were asking about the time of the day.


    Yes, Ernulf muttered with a displeased expression, lowering his eyes slightly rather than meeting the priests gaze.


    I am the Highfather of Saelnar, Septimus said, ignoring that Ernulf had given a positive answer. I am the one servant to the Alfather, Lord of All, he continued. As before, there was no anger or pride in his tone of voice, merely a statement of facts. And you are pointing a sword at me, Septimus finished, and Ernulf quickly looked down at his de; its tip almost touched the grey, coarse fabric of the high priests robe. Ernulf lowered the sword until it pointed down into the ground.


    You have people who belong to us, Ernulf spoke, raising his eyes. I am to bring them back with me.


    This Temple stands on hallowed ground, Septimus said, raising his eyes and his voice slightly so that both epassed the other Isarn soldiers on the stairs. It has been so for near eleven hundred years, as far back as we know.


    And we want the red-robes who did this, Ernulf continued, trying tomand the Highfathers attention. We want her! he said with anger, gesturing towards Adh.


    Except for those who havemitted crimes in the eyes of the gods, it is a sanctuary to all, Septimus added, still speaking to all those assembled. No weapons may be drawn there but those sanctified to divine service. No blood may be spilled unless it be the blood of sacrificial animals.


    Lord Beaumont and his wife, Ernulf attempted to interrupt Septimus.


    The high priest did not let himself be interrupted. To break the sanctuary of the Temple, to draw weapons in its holy halls, to spill blood upon its hallowed ground, Septimus continued, raising his voice further and overruling Ernulfs attempt to disrupt his flow of words, would thrice over invoke the wrath of the Seven and Eighth. I would not wish that upon any man, the Highfather finished, looking directly at Ernulf as he spoke thest words.


    For a moment, a contest of wills took ce between the battle-hardened thane and the unarmed priest. Finally, Ernulf looked away and nced back at the men following him; their faces showed a variety of emotions, but uncertainty seemed prevalent. With a scoff, Ernulf sheathed his sword, turned, and walked away hastily, followed by the other thanes and the soldiers.


    Audible sighs of relief could be heard as the tension evaporated and the Temrs sheathed their swords. Sister Adh, with me, Septimus said as he turned to walk back inside the Temple. The priestess had stood amazed for a moment, but she gathered her wits and turned to follow him. I presume it is true, what they said? Septimus asked while still looking straight ahead as he crossed the hall.


    Something had to be done, Adh said in defence of her actions.


    And your presence now? I heard your words, the priest told her. It sounded as if you were deliberately trying to goad them into attacking the Temrs.


    If they had, the Temrs would have cut down the lot of them, Adh dered. The rest of the city would have followed, rising against these usurpers.


    And when Jarl Isarn returns with an army from the north? Septimus continued, still gazing ahead. When we be sheep for ughter? What do you intend then?


    How do you know his whereabouts? Adh asked. Or that he is bringing an army with him?


    That matters not, Septimus said curtly as he stopped walking. What matters is that you endangered this Temple. If you ever do so again, if you step foot outside the Temple grounds without my leave, I will have you disrobed. As he spoke thest sentence, Septimus finally turned his eyes to look directly at Adh. Understood? Good, he added without waiting for her reply. He walked away, leaving her topose herself.


    ~~~~


    With his men, Ernulf returned to the Isarn house and searched briefly until he found Ulfrik. Captain, he spoke, gaining the other mans attention.


    Where are they? Ulfrik growled.


    The priests wouldnt hand them over. Temrs stopped me, Ernulf muttered.


    You should have taken them, not asked for them, Ulfrik roared angrily.


    How long would my men havested against the Temrs? Ernulf countered. If we want to storm the Temple, we need more swords.


    Ulfrik did not immediately reply, but stood in contemtion a moment before he spoke again. Go, kill the priestess and they brother they left behind. Feed their bodies to the pigs. No one here needs to know, but have their robes left on the doorsteps of the Temple. Let that be a message to them  the price of their interference, Ulfrik said harshly.


    They brother is not a problem, Ernulf said. But the priestess too?


    Is something the matter? Ulfrik said coldly, turning his head to gaze directly at the thane.


    No, captain, Ernulf mumbled. Should we not tell the Dull Knife about any of this?


    Isenwald needs not know anything, Ulfrik said dismissively.


    You have not told him about the message from the Citadel either, then, Ernulf ventured to guess.


    As said, he does not need to know anything. Be on your way, see to your task, Ulfrik told the thane, and the two men separated.

 Chapter 34: The Fruits of Treachery

    Chapter 34: The Fruits of Treachery


    The Fruits of Treachery


    Middanhal


    The first day after Isarns uprising, every inhabitant of the castle could feel the tension soaking every room and space. Only one topic was discussed  Isarns revolt and the impending siege. Included in this was a particr story, constantly being traded back and forth. Many had been on the walls and watched the knight marshal be executed by the jarls forces when Captain Theobald would not surrender the Citadel; the rest of the residents, those who had not witnessed the event themselves, soon heard it retold plenty of times.


    Those patrolling the walls or finding a moment to walk up on them could witness the efforts of the Isarn soldiers. To some extent, the Citadel had been readied for a situation such as this; the Arnsweg leading up to the southern gate was wide with a broad, open stretch ofnd between the Citadel walls and the nearest buildings. This gave the sentinels good visibility as they watched men in red and ck surcoats erect barricades and other defences as close to the fortress as they dared approach. The barricades served as shelter for the Isarn soldiers, keeping the same vignce as their counterparts in the Order upon the walls; it also meant that any sortie out of the Citadel would have to contend with these defences and be easy for Isarns men to repel.


    The northern and north-eastern sections of the Citadel were moreplicated. The northern city gatey close by as did the general city fortifications; in fact, walled passageways had been constructed that led almost directly from the gate of the Citadel to the outer walls of the city. Not that it gave direct ess to the fortress; that would have been a serious vulnerability should an enemy attack the city from the north and be able to gain a foothold on the walls. The series of fortifications did provide cover in various ces, however, breaking line of sight for the defenders. Hence, most of the soldiers guarding the Citadel were stationed here.


    As the first day waned, the inhabitants of the keep went to bed without finding much rest. Fear of another nightly assault was prevalent; as for the garrison itself, only half of them were in their cots at any given time. The rest were keeping the watch throughout the night; the Citadels many defences required extensive patrols. The hundred or so kingthanes did their part to assist the Order soldiers, but even then, they were spread thin.


    The night came and went without incident, however. On the second day of the siege, Theobald gathered the people of the Citadel in the southern courtyard, high and low. There were few of the former; most had been at Isarns feast or in their own houses during the night of the assault. Those with the good fortune of having escaped Isarns clutches stood huddled together on the cobbled stones in between the crowds of servants. Regardless of birth and rank, however, everybody obeyed Theobaldsmand. As the captain of the Citadel under siege, his word was undisputedw.


    In the centre of the courtyard, a few barrels had been pushed together to serve as an improvised podium. Limping across the yard, Theobald made his way towards it. A small footstool, normally serving as an aide to allowdies to mount their horses, gave him ess to ascend atop the barrels. Despite his weak leg, he easily stepped up and took his ce, visible to all. Bring out the prisoner! Theobald roared. Two soldiers entered the yard; between them, they pushed and pulled a bound and gagged man. The captive was wearing a tattered surcoat of indistinguishable colours.


    This man opened the gates for the rebels to attack us, Theobald dered loudly. A despicable act for which there is only one reward. Having said this, the captain nodded towards the soldiers. The prisoner was pushed to his knees and bent forward so that his neck was exposed. One fetched the footstool that the captain had used as a stedder, and the prisoners head was forced down upon it to keep him steady despite his attempts to wring himself free.


    Another soldier, wielding a gruesome axe, stepped forward and ced the steel ready at the neck. The man protested fiercely, but the gag muffled all sounds, and the soldiers did not allow him to move one inch. Another nod from the captain, and the axe fell. Same reward for any other who would aid this treacherous scum at our gates, Theobald yelled. Then he leapt down from his podium, seemingly ignoring any difort to his bad leg as hended; he spent a moment adjusting his footing before he walked haltingly across the yard.


    A hideous spectacle, Isabel said. But fitting, I suppose. Thedy, once married to one prince of Adalrik and mother to another, was one of the few nobleborn still in the Citadel. By her side stood one more of those few, the former dragonlord and still currentndgrave of Elis.


    If he was the one to open the gate, Elis remarked casually.


    Why would he not be? Isabel wondered with a frown.


    How could they know it was him specifically? Elis asked in turn. If somebody saw this man opening the gate, would they not have stopped him? Or raised the rm? Maybe it is my tendency to think the worst of others, Elis admitted, but I find it most likely that our brave captain simply chose a scapegoat among his prisoners and had his head removed to serve as an example.


    You think he would carry out such a deception? Isabel asked.


    I think there was a reason the prisoner was gagged, Elis pointed out. Let us go inside, the smell is unpleasant here.


    Despite her loss of status as mother to the future king of the realm, Isabel had retained her chambers in the royal quarters. Escorting her back, Elis had to endure ill looks from the kingthanes they passed; they were aware that had Elis remained dragonlord, he would have sacked Berimund as captain of the kingthanes and instated another from outside their ranks. The lord anddy met only few, though, since many of the thanes were on guard duty. As they reached Isabels chamber, Elis dismissed her handmaiden. We need to speak privately, he said with a hushed voice.


    Elis? What are you nning, Isabel frowned.


    We have a unique opportunity to position ourselves in this brewing civil war, Elis told her. Isarn has gained the upper hand, especially as long as he can hold Middanhal, and the city will be most costly for Vale to assault. By acting swiftly, Athelstan may bring this war to an end before Vale can retaliate. However, should the war drag on, I predict Vale will prove the stronger. He has more men and resources at his disposal.


    Vale is responsible for my sons death, Isabel hissed. If you intend to side with him, consider our agreement at an end.


    Not at all, Elis said, raising his hands in a disarming gesture. We should align ourselves with Isarn. If Athelstan proves themander he is rumoured to be, we may find ourselves counted among the winners in a few months.


    How do you intend to show your allegiance to Isarn?


    I will make contact with them, Elis said and lowered his voice to a whisper, and open the gate from the inside, allowing them to take the Citadel.


    The captains disy did not impress you, I see, Isabel said dryly. How will you get a message to them?


    I watched their patrols on the wallsst night. There are gaps. With caution, one could tie a message to an arrow and shoot it unseen into the Isarn camp outside the Citadel. Same method the other way. An arrow sent across the western wall and into the orchard should go undetected.


    And if it is detected? Isabel asked sharply. Or your message is never read by Isarns men?


    I will mention no names, Elis said calmly. My involvement will remain hidden.


    Then how will Isarn know you are on his side? Isabel asked pointedly.


    He will know when I open the gate for his men, Elis replied. Until then, none will suspect a thing or suspect me for that matter.


    It seems like a risk, Isabel said doubtingly. Too easy for arrows to fly astray.


    If I keep my wits about me, the risk will be minimal, Elis said patiently. This is the perfect opportunity to gain Isarns trust.


    Regain it, you mean, after you lost at the Adalthing, Isabel said with a touch of disdain.


    Delivering the Citadel into the hands of the jarl is the perfect way of securing his good graces, Elis continued, undaunted by Isabels interjection.


    There is one thing you have not considered, Isabel argued. What if the war does be protracted? If Vale takes victory and we are found on the losing side?


    If Vale can defeat Athelstan, Elis smiled, he will eventually seek to besiege Middanhal. However, the mountains will prevent him from encircling the northern gate. Isarn can bring in supplies and reinforcements endlessly. Therefore, Vale will have to storm the city with heavy casualties to follow. Unless, of course, he has a new friend on the inside


    To open yet another gate, Isabel finished. So you repeat your ploy and give Vale what you gave Isarn.


    Always follow the strongest wind, Elis remarked in a rxed manner, and your ship will sail the fastest. Regardless of who wins, we will be their allies.


    Except I have no interest in seeing victory awarded to Vale, Isabel sneered. What of my cousin? He has a im as well. If he intervenes, all our support should belong to him, Isabel dered.


    We may yet follow that course, Elis nodded. By surrendering the Citadel to Isarn, we strengthen his ability to fight Vale. The more they exhaust each others forces, the stronger your cousins army will be inparison. If the warsts long enough, in the end, King Adrd can simply stroll up to Middanhal and seize the city from Isarn or Vale, regardless of its master. Especially, Elis smiled, if someone on the inside is willing to open the gates for him.


    I see the merit of your n, Isabel said slowly. Though you are counting on Isarn to reward you for your aid. He does not seem a generous man.


    Perhaps not, Elis admitted, but at least this may stay his hand from enacting revenge upon me. The Citadel will fall sooner orter. Best we profit from it.


    And my role? Isabel questioned. I appreciate being kept informed, but I suspect there is more to it.


    You are impartial, being neither among the northern or the southern nobles, Elis exined. And you were once wedded to the House of Adal. Your support lends credence to my negotiating position, whether it be with Isarn, Vale, or Korndale.


    Very well, Isabel acquiesced. When will you do this?


    I need another night at least to ensure I know the guards routines, Elis pondered. The nights will be moonless in a few days. I shall do it then.


    Do not be discovered, Isabel warned him. Nothing can save you should that happen.


    Fear not for me, mydy, Elis said smiling before he bowed and left Isabels chambers.


    ~~~~


    In the evening with her kitchen work done, Kate was in the library tower as always. She was reading a written record of the song Arn of Old, slowly mumbling the words as her eyes nced over them. Her voice stumbled, and she yawned before she continued.


    I always thought the story of Arn was exciting, Quill muttered from his desk. Especially his return from the hignds to im his throne. Never heard any yawn so much through that part, he said dryly.


    Forgive me, master, Kate said apologetically. It is a very interesting story. I am just a bit tired.


    You are not obliged to stay here every night, Quill told her. If you are weary, go to your bed and sleep.


    I dont think I can, Kate admitted. Thats the problem. Doesnt matter how tired I am, I cant fall asleep. Or if I do, I wake up shortly after.


    Quill finally looked up, and he closed his book. Standing up, he moved over to sit on the bench next to Kate. Are you afraid, child?


    Yes, Kate admitted breathlessly. Who knows when they will return? Any night, they might suddenly burst through.


    Such thoughts will not do you any good, Quill shook his head, but perhaps we can remedy the situation.


    How? she wondered.


    If I can show you that your fears are unfounded, maybe that will give your mind some rest.


    But they are just outside the walls, Kate objected. Theyve got in once already.


    And they will not again, Quill assured her. None expected it the first time. Now, the captain has guards everywhere. We will not be taken by surprise again.


    If you say so, Kate said haltingly. But if they cant surprise us, wont they just attack outright? There are so few soldiers left here, and no knights.


    That is what the walls are for, Quill told her. They even the odds.


    But we cant stay like this forever, Kate argued. Sooner orter, we run out of food. We cant hold them off.


    There will be no need, Quill said assertively. The Order still has thousands of soldiers in the other realms. They will gather and put an end to these rebels sooner orter.


    Are you sure? the girl questioned.


    The Order never loses a war, Quill said firmly. It is only a matter of time before we are liberated.


    Thank you, master, Kate said slowly.


    You do not sound convinced? Quill said tentatively.


    I know you are right, you always are. Its just hard to believe even if I know it, Kate exined haltingly.


    The mind and the heart do not always agree, Quill nodded. If it would make you feel better, you may sleep in Egils room for the time being. He has no need for it, after all.


    Thats kind of you, master, Kate wavered. But I should stay with the other girls. If something does happen, they need someone to take them here likest time.


    As you wish, child, Quill said with a faint smile. I will leave you to your reading, he added, getting up, but if you feel tired, you should go to bed.


    Yes, master.


    ~~~~


    Another night passed in the Citadel without events. As the day dawned, it brought its new routines that the inhabitants were slowly adjusting to. They would eventually run out of wine and ale to drink, but thanks to the channels dug between the Mihtea flowing through the city and the cisterns in the Citadel, water was not an issue. Food was being carefully measured in exact portions. Cook was stricter than ever if anybody was found taking so much as a pea for themselves, pping cheeks and twisting ears all day long to keep the kitchen servants in line.


    In the northern section of the castle, the soldiers were either patrolling the walls or sleeping in their quarters after having patrolled during the night. Only one person moved through the corridors, dressed in inconspicuous brown pants and tunic as well as a cap covering all hair. A slender and small figure, Holwine moved cautiously but met nobody. The great hall was deserted; the corridorsy silent.


    Exploring, the servant to the jarl of Theodstan went through the various hallways and up into some of the towers that gave a view of the city. Sometimes, the towers had guards stationed; whenever Holwine discovered this, the servant moved with feline grace to make a silent retreat and avoid alerting anybody. Other times, these lookout posts had been abandoned; the garrison was toocking in numbers to man them all. Upon finding these, Holwine took the time to gaze in every direction and take note of everything in view, most notably the guards on the walls and parapets below making their rounds.


    Holwine was thorough; this scouting expedition continued most of the day, getting aplete understanding of the northern defences of the Citadel as well as how the garrison manned them. As first evening bell rang, nightfall was a few hours away. With a nce towards the southern part of the Citadel, Holwine stood wavering for a moment but eventually reached a decision; it led towards the otherwise empty chambers made avable to the jarl of Theodstan. Their only upant, Holwine removed some clothes and the cap keeping back long, flowing hair,y down on one of the beds, and quickly fell asleep.


    ~~~~


    A while after the first evening bell had rung and work was done for the day, Kate was to be found in the library tower as usual. She still yawned from time to time but managed to make progress in her reading. Atst, she reached the final strophes, mouthing the words as she read.


    Finished, she said, looking up with a smile at Quill.


    Very good, he nodded. Any questions?


    Dont suppose I have, Kate considered, standing up and returning the thin book to its ce on the shelves. Been some years since I heard it sung, though, I couldnt remember a lot of it.


    I thought this would be a goodpanion to the song, Quill said, moving over to one of the shelves and choosing a book. More difficult to read, but it details the War of the Dragon, as they call it. Arns subjugation of the other realms.


    He walked over to ce the book on Kates desk while the girl silently formed each syble of the word subjugation with her lips. What did he do? she asked puzzled.


    He made the other kings his vassals. His subjects, Quill exined. Have you never wondered why the king of Adalrik is known as the high king?


    Cant say I have, Kate admitted with shifting eyes.


    Read this and you will understand, Quill informed her.


    I will, Kate promised, which allowed a yawn to escape her.


    Still not sleeping well? Quill asked with a frown.


    Little better, I suppose, Kate said with a shrug.


    I thought we might turn that to our favour, Quill suggested. It is new moon, meaning the stars will be easily visible. Ideal to teach you some basic astronomy. Looking at Kate, he continued. Astronomy is knowledge of the stars. Their movements and positions.


    Stars move? Kate asked, a little incredulous.


    Certainly. Too slowly to see with a nce. But if you observe them carefully, night after night, you will see the same stars moving in patterns. Patterns that can be recorded, predicted. Consider summer solstice, the longest day of the year. How do you know which particr day is the longest of the year, and that it is not the day before or after, almost equal in length?


    Kate stood silent for a moment. The priests tell us? she ventured hesitantly.


    Ah, but how do they know? Quill swiftly followed up.


    I thought they just knew. Seemed like its part of their duties to know such things.


    The priests, specifically the whiterobes, need a way to know. And while it is rare knowledge, it is not secret. It is simply the discipline of astronomy.


    But how? Kate asked with ack of understanding. How do the stars determine what day it is? Its the sun that makes it day or night. The sooner it sets, the shorter the day.


    The stars do not determine it either, Quill began to exin. Think of the stars like the great water clock in the dining hall. Just like it measures the hours of the day, the stars move in the same patterns. When they have moved a certain length, we know how much time has passed.


    But they all look the same, Kate objected.


    Except if you observe them carefully, Quill told her. Now, the library tower may not rival the observatory that the whiterobes have at Cairn Donn, but for our simple purposes it will suffice.


    It does sound interesting, Kate acknowledged. I never knew there was so much I didnt know, she remarked, which made Quillugh faintly.


    Since we will be up until midnight at least, I should tell your Cook first. I doubt she would approve if I kept you here pastst bell without advance warning, Quill considered. See if you can rest tonight. Tomorrow, we teach you about the heavens, he smiled.


    Yes, master, Kate said, also smiling as she left the library.


    ~~~~


    When thest bell had rung and all good folk were indoors, only the guards keeping watch were still awake inside the Citadel; although as night fellpletely, another figure cautiously moved through the empty hallways. Having lost the office of dragonlord, Elis had been relegated to more humble chambers fitting for andgrave. With a slightly awkward gait, he walked from his new chambers towards the south-western part of the Citadel. The doors leading to the courtyard were locked for the night, but there was free ess from the inside of theplex onto the walls and towers of the outer fortifications; such was necessary for the soldiers to walk their rounds.


    Remaining vignt, Elis kept out of sight when necessary and avoided the soldiers on watch. The gaps in their patrols allowed him to slip onto the walls and enter one of the towers undetected. Walking up the staircase inside, he reached the hatch that let him step onto the top of the tower. From there, he had a view of whaty west and southwest of the Citadel. The area close to the walls was cleared, of course, to allow free visibility in case anybody approached the fortress. Westwards there was a thin stretch of buildings between the Citadel and the Weolcan Mountains; most of them were forges and shops owned by craftsmen. Nearly all of the citys small Dwarven poption lived here.


    Valmark, the western mountain peak, continued to dominate his vision as Elis nced further south, but more of the city came into view. The craftsmens quarters were reced by neighbourhoods with more variety, such as taverns and inns, more shops and merchants homes. Moving to the edge of the tower, Elis gazed directly below the tower in the south-western direction. There was the perennial open tract ofnd between the outer walls and the closest buildings; beyond that, where the rest of the city began, the barricade erected by the Isarn soldiers could be found.


    It blocked therger road between the Citadel and the western part of the city and acted like a small watch post, allowing them to keep an eye on the beleaguered fortress from this side as well. The barricade itself was almost invisible in the darkness with no moon in the sky. The only thing that Elis could spot with certainty was the fire behind it with the tallest mes flickering behind the barricade, made up of wooden nks, bs of stone, a cart wheeled into ce, and other misceneous objects.


    Elis reached into his sleeve and pulled out an arrow; a note was tied around its shaft. The reason for his awkward gait was revealed as he pulled a small bow staff out of one of the legs of his pants. Finally, he retrieved a bowstring from a pocket. Bending the bow staff, he strung it and assembled a shortbow. It had limited range and force, but it was sufficient for the task. Notching the arrow, Elis took aim after the watch fire and lowered slightly. He released the arrow and heard it whistle through the air. The sound ended; the arrow had struck its target. Elis strained his eyes but nothing could be seen in the darkness. With his errand fulfilled regardless, Elis took the bow apart and hid it in the same manner as before. Leaning over the side of the tower, he looked inwards towards the walls of the Citadel. He waited until satisfied with the guards progression along their patrol patterns and left the tower.


    ~~~~


    When morning came, the defenders were relieved to have found it eventless; the tightly wound atmosphere permeating the castle softened slightly. Daily routines created a semnce of normality for those who had such to perform. Holwine, who was left without master, mistress, or brother, passed time in the same fashion as earlier days and continued exploring the Citadels defences. With the northern parts fully scouted, Holwine continued with the southern parts. As before, this meant watching the guards on their patrols, slipping into towers and making use of the view to take note of everything worthy of such.


    Starting from the eastern side, Holwine systematically moved towards the west until full knowledge of the fortifications had been obtained. Only one tower was not upied by any sentinels, the same tower from which Elis had shot his arrow the previous night. Most of the angles that it overlooked could be viewed from the tower by the southern gate or one of those lying on the northern part, which was why it had been deemed unnecessary to man. Furthermore, being taller than the nearby towers, one was more or less undetectable while standing here. Frowning, Holwine nced around, spying out onto the city and seeing the same barricades as Elis had done before retreating with a yawn back to the jarl of Theodstans quarters.


    ~~~~


    Sometime past noon, Elis entered the royal wing. Its corridors were more or less empty; the kingthanes were either sleeping or on guard. Unobstructed, Elis knocked on the chamber door to Isabels quarters and was given admittance. He waited until she had dismissed her handmaiden before he spoke. I made contactst night, Elis said softly, keeping his voice low. Now it is only to wait for their reply.


    Are you certain your message was received? Isabel asked with doubt.


    It may have gone undetected through the night, but after dawn, someone is bound to have noticed an arrow with a message tied to it, Elis said unconcerned.


    What if they do not reply? Or if someone else finds it before you do?


    The orchard is empty at night, I consider that unlikely. But in either case, I have not mentioned my name anywhere. Nobody knows of my involvement but you. Should nothinge of this, I will simply abandon the n and wait until other opportunities arise, Elis exined.


    A dangerous game, Isabel said, her voice teeming with uncertainty. Do not expect my aid if something goes awry.


    If I end up in a position where I am in need of your help, mydy, I will not be deserving of it, Elis said with nonchnce and took his leave.


    ~~~~


    Between first andst evening bell, Kate went to the library tower and resumed reading the ount of the War of the Dragon. In some ces, it skirted over events or professed ignorance of what had happened. The volume had been written by one of the Kings Quills many centuries after the war had actually been fought; it was based on what that Quill had been able to ascertain from different sources, not all of them equally useful.


    A few hours passed in customary silence, only broken by pages turning, quills being inked and scrabbling on parchment, and so forth. When thest bell rang, Kate was momentarily disturbed; she had never stayed past this hour in the tower before. Quill, without looking up, raised one hand to gesture her towards remaining stationary. It will be a few hours before it is dark enough for our purpose, he told her, and she continued reading.


    The siege of Herbergja had been lifted when Quill finally told Kate to put her book away. Approaching her desk with a map, he unfolded it and had her hold one end down. This chart shows the position of the stars and the constetions they form. I thought it would be easier for you to see them in this way now before we attempt to locate them in their real positions, Quill exined. There are many constetions and objects in the heavens, and only the whiterobes have mapped them all. But a few aremonly known and prove very useful.


    Which ones? Kate asked interested as she leaned forward.


    See this line of stars? Think of it as a de, Quill said as his fingers ran over the map. It is quite easy to find. This row forms the arm that holds the de, he continued, moving his finger, and here we have the rest. This constetion is called the Swordsman, and legend says that the Alfather ced the stars thus to remind us of Rihimils watchful gaze, always protecting us.


    I never knew, Kate said, biting her lip. What others are there?


    This constetion with its many points is called the Crown, said to belong to Austre so that we do not forget that she remains queen of the heavens even as the sun is gone, Quill continued. This is the Ox, a remembrance of Egnil and his bounty at each harvest. I think we will start with those tonight, he dered.


    Rolling up the chart, Quill led Kate to a small spiralling staircase in the far corner of the library hall. At its top was a hatch, which Quill opened; continuing onwards, they found themselves standing on top of the library tower. Situated in the western part of the castle, it was taller than the other towers nearby and gave unobstructed view of the night sky.


    Look up, Quill said. Tell me when you see something.


    Kate did as instructed, biting her lip again. There! The de, she eximed. So that must be the Swordsman.


    Indeed, Quill nodded. What of the other two?


    Kate continued to let her eyes search the sky. I dont see them, she admitted after a little while.


    It takes a little practice, Quill nodded. He bent down slightly to be on the same level as Kate and raised his finger to point upwards. See there? The stars that form a circle as the head of the Ox, and there are its horns.


    Not really, Kate said, straining her eyes. Oh wait, I see the circle, yes.


    Good, Quill told her. Now imagine the horns of the Ox forming lines. Follow those lines all across the sky until they converge, he said, letting his finger point the way. There we find his voice trailed off.


    The Crown, she said happily in recognition.


    Very good, Quill told her. Now return to the Swordsman. Can you find his de?


    Yes, Kate answered.


    Again, trace a line between them. Move along that line towards the Crown, but stop at the first bright star you see. Somewhere right between those two constetions. Can you see it?


    I see it.


    A star of many names, though most simply call it the Wayfarer, Quill told her. It has two unique properties. The first is that it can always be found between the Swordsman and the Crown. You find those constetions the way I showed you, and you will always find the Wayfarer.


    Understood, Kate nodded.


    Secondly, the star always points north. No matter where you are, what hour of the night, what day of the year, you can always find north by finding that star. Thus its name, since travellers uses it to find their way.


    But I thought you said the stars all move, Kate objected.


    They do, Quill nodded, but this is the exception. How or why I cannot say. Maybe the whiterobes know, but they have not revealed it. Hraban the Mad said that it was the throne of the Alfather, but as his epithet reveals, we should be careful about trusting his opinion.


    Who was he? Kate asked curious.


    Another time, Quill told her. Even now, centuriester, he is not a topic for light discussion. It must be midnight, he added, shuddering slightly. There is a chill in the air. I think that is enough astronomy for one night. Let us go back inside, he said to hispanion, and they descended the hatch.


    ~~~~


    Saying goodnight to Quill and leaving the tower, Kate moved towards the kitchen area. Ity central in the Citadel since it had to supply both the dining hall for the court in the southern part and its equivalent for the Order in the northern part. The library was ced by the royal wing in the west, so Kate descended to the ground floor and walked east. Yet as she passed a door leading outside, she stopped. ncing around, she stood indecisively for a moment and finally hurried through the door.


    It led to the orchard, full of fruit trees in bloom. While all the food in the kitchen was ounted for and under strict control, such was not the case with the orchard. With a final nce behind her, Kate ran forward and climbed up the nearest tree.


    It proved to be a pear tree. Grabbing the nearest fruit, Kate devoured it with the appetite of a wolf. It did not take her long to eat every part that was edible, and when she was done, she grabbed another. With her initial temptation somewhat sated, she slowed her pace; getting a morefortable seat on the branch, leaning against the tree trunk, she took a few bites of the fruit while gazing up at what stars could be spotted between the foliage.


    Kate was interrupted by faint creaking of a door, followed by the soft, yet unmistakable sound of footsteps. Freezing in ce, she remainedpletely still as she heard someone approach. The footsteps grew slightly louder until the person was just below her tree; as Kate waited without breathing, the person continued moving deeper into the orchard.


    Time passed slowly as Kate remained in ce, hiding in her tree. Without a clock or the passage of the sun to tell time, it was impossible to say how long she waited; she carefully shifted her legs as her seating grew ufortable, but while the other person remained inside the orchard, she was confined to her position.


    At length a sound broke the silence; something whistled through the air. The foliage did not allow Kate to spy much, and it would require a lot of movement and noise to move to a better vantage point. Nheless, she heard the liberating sound of movement; the person to whom she was an unwittingpanion was walking somewhere. As the figure followed the same path back towards the door, Kate could hear the approach; holding her breath again, she quickly nced down as her coincidental captor walked past. The moonless night showed little, but the distance was close enough that it was possible to recognise thendgrave of Elis.


    As he left the orchard, Kate exhaled deeply. In her one hand, she still clutched a half-eaten pear. Her fingers were so stiff, she could hardly release the fruit from her grip. She spent a few moments rubbing her hands to regain some flexibility before she grabbed the branches for support and climbed down. She hastened inside, escaping the orchard, yet not before Holwine, situated atop an otherwise empty tower, saw her flight.

 Chapter 35: The Small Leak

    Chapter 35: The Small Leak


    The Small Leak


    Middanhal


    After lying sleepless in her bed, Kate rose with the other kitchen girls and attended to her duties as usual. Breakfast was prepared and served before dirty tes and cups were brought back. There was a constant flow of servants entering and leaving the main kitchen room throughout the day, but Kates tasks kept her confined there for several hours. Eventually though, Cook told her to refill the kitchen vessels.


    Near the kitchen was a small room like a well, where a bucket could be lowered and filled with water from the Citadels reservoirs. After grabbing arge, wooden bucket, Kate left the kitchen and went to the indoor well. She attached the container to the rope and dumped it down the well. As the it filled up, she had to struggle to pull the rope back. With a final heave, Kate manoeuvred the bucket to the side that she might grab hold of it. As she turned to leave the well room, she saw a shadow blocking the lighting from the corridor. Looking towards the entrance, she found it upied by a slender shape.


    Hallo, Kate, Holwine said.


    Who are you? You dont work in the kitchens, Kate spoke with narrowed eyes.


    No. I am a servant to the jarl of Theodstan.


    Well, this is the kitchens, so youre in the wrong ce, Kate said dismissively.


    Not at all. I am here to talk to you.


    What for? Kate asked, suspicion filling her voice.


    Because, Holwine said slowly,st night I was not asleep. I was awake, keeping watch. And I saw something.


    Youll get in trouble for that, Kate stated. Youre not supposed to be out after nightfall.


    I wasnt the only one, though, Holwine retorted. I saw two others. A man and a girl.


    Who? Kate asked.


    I could not see their faces, Holwine admitted.


    Then why are you talking to me, Kate muttered, and she moved towards the door opening. Holwine blocked it, preventing her from moving past.


    Because I wondered what reasons there might be for a girl to be out sote at night. Other than pilfering fruit, came the sarcastic reply. When I asked around, I was told a most peculiar thing. That a certain kitchen girl spends her evenings in the library tower, working for the Quill.


    Its not a crime, Kate said with a hard look. I can spend my evenings how and where I want.


    Ah, butst night, this particr kitchen girl spent her night there as well. What did you tell that other girl? Holwine pondered, frowning in concentration for a moment. Ah yes, you know how to navigate by the stars now. Quite something.


    Never telling her a thing again, Kate mumbled. Look, it was just a pear. Dont tell anyone.


    I dont have the slightest interest in that. What I want to know, Holwine said, crouching down a bit to be at the same eye level as Kate, is who the man was that you saw in the orchard.


    I didnt see anybody, Kate imed, her eyes shifting to the side. It was dark, no moon.


    He passed by your tree, Holwine countered.


    I didnt look down, Kate said, shifting strategy to re at the person interrogating her.


    You were not at all curious? Holwine asked innocently.


    No, Kate said with a definitive voice.


    The girl who wants to learn to read and know the stars is not curious by nature? Holwine said with a sardonic smile.


    Look, why do you care? Kate asked. Whats it to you?


    Nothing to me personally, Holwine admitted with a shrug. No, I want you to tell the captain.


    Are you mad? Kate eximed.


    Whoever you saw is a danger to this castle. He did not have good intentions for being outst night.


    Same could be said for you, Kate said aggressively. I dont know you, Im not going to stick my neck out for you.


    Not for me, but for everyone, Holwine hissed. That man wasmunicating with the rebels. No doubt giving them the knowledge they need to take the castle.


    How do you know? Youre just guessing, Kate argued.


    On a silent night, the sound of an arrow piercing the air travels quite far. I could not see it, but I heard it, Holwine replied. How else do you pass messages from a besieged castle to the besiegers or reverse? I dont know what the message said, came the admittance, but anybody trading words with the rebels poses a danger. Kate, you must tell the captain what you saw.


    He wont believe me, Kate said faintly. No one would take my word for it. You do it, she suggested. You care so much, you tell the captain.


    I was not the witness, Holwine countered. I do not have the same excuse as you for being out sotest night.


    Why were you out? Kate enquired. Youre not a knight or a soldier, youre just a servant like me. Why are you skulking about at night?


    My master, his sister, my own brother, Holwine listed, all of them have risked their lives to save this city, this castle. I will do everything it takes to keep that traitor Isarn from getting his hands on this ce.


    Except tell the captain what you saw, Kate said unimpressed. No, youre happy to let me take that risk.


    You wont even tell me who you saw, Holwine argued. You must! You must let the captain know!


    No one will believe me, Kate whispered. And if he finds out I saw him, hell kill me.


    Is he a knight? A nobleman, a kingthane? Is that why you are so afraid? Holwine wondered with narrowed eyes.


    If I dont return now, Cook will wonder where Ive gone. You cant force me, Kate said defiantly. Let me go.


    If the rebels know when and where to attack, where the guard is weak, this castle will fall to the rebels within a day, Holwine warned.


    Let me go, Kate demanded.


    Youre the only one who can stop this. Tell me who you saw.


    Let me go, or Ill scream, Kate threatened. And youll be the one in chains.


    Holwine wavered for a moment before stepping aside and gesturing for Kate to walk through the now unblocked opening.


    ~~~~


    In the Isarnpound, there was more activity than usual in the courtyard. Gazing from her observation post by the window, Arndis could see all who entered and left, all that went on, and she would narrate this to her fellow captives. It was rarely riveting, but deprived of nearly all other diversions, it was the best they could do.


    How odd, Arndis said contemtively. It looks as if they have strapped arge bow to a crate on wheels, she frowned.


    I am not surprised considering the madness they have shown, Eleanor said idly.


    Yet there tends to be a dire purpose to their madness, Theodwyn mumbled as she stood up and joined Arndis by the window. I have seen one of those before. It is called a ballista, Theodwyn exined. It is a contraption invented by that guild of engineers from Fontaine. They must have hired one.


    What does it do? Arndis asked, still frowning. A man was tending to the machine, applying different oils to its wooden and metallic parts.


    It shoots missiles, but with greater force and across longer distances than a bow can, Theodwyn replied. It is a weapon for siege warfare.


    Are they attacking the Citadel? Eleanor asked, finally walking over to find a spot to stand where she might also look out onto the courtyard.


    It would seem so, Theodwyn granted. Though I wonder what they will need that machine for.


    Nothing good, Arndis said softly. If the Citadel falls, Jarl Isarn will be one step closer to his goal, she added.


    The Order ising, Theodwyn imed. It is only a matter of time before this nightmare is over.


    I wish I could be as confident as you, Eleanor stated, prompting Arndis to touch her hand in a consoling manner. In the courtyard, the engineer continued to prepare the ballista.


    ~~~~


    When the first evening bell had rung, Kate went to the library tower. She found her book and continued to read about what had happened after the siege of Herbergja had ended and the liberation of Thusund began. She made very little progress, however; she was constantly ncing outside at the window where the day was slowly reaching its end and nightfall was approaching.


    What is wrong? Quill asked calmly without raising his gaze from the page he was writing.


    Sorry? Kate asked.


    I can hear you move about constantly, yet you are not turning the page.


    Kate bit her lip. Master Quill, is it wrong to keep secrets?


    Quill put down his feather pen and finally looked at Kate. Depends on the secret. Is it harmless?


    Dont think so, Kate said dismayed.


    Will it hurt somebody if you tell it? Quill asked.


    Definitely. Probably me, she said even more distraught.


    Will it hurt somebody if you do not tell it? he continued.


    Im afraid so, Kate said quietly.


    Can you tell me? Quill asked gently. Perhaps I can better counsel you if I know the matter at hand.


    Kate sat, her lips pressed together. I stole a pear. Two actually, though I didnt enjoy the second. So it shouldnt count.


    The corner of Quills mouth twitched upwards. I think that is harmless enough to keep to yourself.


    Thats not it, Kate shook her head. But you had to hear that first. Because thats how I know.


    Know what? Quill said, his voice turning sharper as he kept his gaze on Kate, who in turn found it hard to meet his eyes.


    ~~~~


    In the Isarn house, Ernulf was overseeing a band of soldiers training in the courtyard. While other thanes were giving out the actual instructions, correcting the stance and movements, Ernulf was content with watching. Ulfrik came up to him, nodding towards the men. How are theying along? asked the captain of the thanes.


    Decent, Ernulf said with an expression hovering between acknowledging and unimpressed.


    They better be ready for tonight, Ulfrik warned. We will need them.


    Captain, most of these are farm boys, Ernulf said quietly. Just because they got mustered and brought here, it doesnt mean they will be much good to us.


    We got no choice, Ulfrik growled. We got barely a thousand men to hold the city. I am not risking my experienced men on this.


    But you do n on going through with it? Ernulf asked suggestively after a moment.


    If this mysterious messenger really can give us the Citadel, we have to try, Ulfrik dered.


    Its a lot of faith to put on somebody whose name we dont even know, Ernulf argued. What if its a trap?


    Then we will make ns for that, Ulfrik said dismissively. The engineer has built me a ballista.


    What for? If the gate opens, we wont need it. If it doesnt open, then its a trap and the machine wont get us on the walls, Ernulf asked confused.


    Its not for the northern gate, Ulfrik spoke in a brusque tone. If its really a trap, they will gather their soldiers in that ce. Meanwhile, you take the ballista and the hooks and attack the southern walls while their focus is to the north.


    Clever, Ernulf admitted. Ill need a handful of archers, though, to keep the walls clear while we make the climb.


    You will have them, Ulfrik nodded. And a hundred men.


    A hundred? Ernulf eximed. I need twice that at least!


    Did you not hear me earlier? Ulfrik said with a threatening growl. I barely have enough men to keep the city under control and the Citadel under siege. If you die with a hundred men, it will be a loss I can take. But not two hundred, the captain stated.


    What risks is Lord Isenwald prepared to take? Ernulf retorted. Have you counselled with him? Or perhaps I should request his opinion on this risky endeavour, not to mention everything else that you do in his name. Does he know about the dead robes, about Beaumont and his wife?


    Ulfrik had been looking at the soldiers training, but now he slowly turned his head to let his cold eyes gaze at Ernulf. The thane swallowed and had difficulty meeting his captains stare. Not another word, Ernulf, unless you want to be served up next in the pig sty.


    Yes, captain, Ernulf mumbled.


    Be ready for tonight, Ulfrikmanded him. Make sure the men practise climbing.


    Yes, captain.


    ~~~~


    It was afternoon when two Order soldiers appeared outside Elis chamber and told his servant that Captain Theobald desired to see thendgrave. I am not ustomed to being summoned, Elis said with a sour expression, but the soldiers faces remained unmoved. One of them repeated a gesture for the nobleman to move along. Yes, yes, Elis snapped and followed them.


    Once Elis entered the captains study, he found two other people there apart from Theobald. One was the red-robed Quill, and the other looked to be simply a lowly kitchen girl. Captain? Elis said questioningly.


    Thank you foring, my lord, Theobald muttered. Do you know this girl?


    Never seen her before, Elis said dismissively. What is this about?


    You are certain? You do not recall ever having dealings with her in any regard? Theobald enquired.


    I am not in the habit of frequenting the kitchens, Elis said irritably. I ask again, what is this about?


    Ignoring him, Theobald turned to Kate. You still say the same? Her mouth trembled slightly, so instead Kate nodded vaguely. Quill ced a reassuring hand on her shoulder, whereas Theobald turned to look at Elis again. Lord Elis, you stand used ofmunicating with the rebels and besiegers of this Citadel. This is high treason against the Crown, Theobald exined.


    How dare you! Elis roared. I presume this is my user? A servant girl impugns the honour of andgrave?


    Quill began to speak, but he was silenced by a hand from Theobald. I will handle this, Master Quill. Yes, the girl ims she saw you in the orchardst night, retrieving an arrow presumably containing a message from the traitors outside our walls, the captain said.


    Preposterous, Elis scoffed. That is an absolute lie. Has the wench exined why she herself was in the orchard at night?


    That is a separate matter, Theobald replied. What matters now is the question of your presencest night.


    I was asleep through the night as all decent folk should be, Elis said with a sharp nce towards Kate. I have answered this outrageous allegation. This is a waste of my time, he dered and began to turn away.


    That is for me to judge, Theobald warned him, prompting Elis to stay.


    You do not honestly mean to detain me? Elis said incredulously. The word of a kitchen girl against a nobleman? The Adalthing would never find me guilty on such flimsy evidence, nor would any king, he stated.


    That is entirely true, Theobald acknowledged. However, I am neither of those things. Guards, have him chained up in the dungeons.


    What? Elis burst out as the guards moved forward and grabbed him by his arms. No, you cannot do this! You have no proof!


    Why would the girl risk so much punishment if it was a lie? Theobald asked. You said yourself you do not know her. She has no motive for wishing you harm.


    But, Elis stammered, I am andgrave. She is a servant, he said in disbelief. Somebody is paying her to besmirch my honour, he finally spat out.


    Possibly, Theobald granted. But I cannot risk it. If you are innocent, all that has been harmed is your honour. But if you are guilty, I will not risk the safety of this castle merely because of your title. Enough, he finished, nodding to the guards. Under further futile protestations, they dragged Elis out of the chamber. As for you, theft of food is a serious crime during a siege, Theobald said sternly as he turned his gaze on Kate. Given the circumstances, I will forego punishment for now. However, if I learn that this repeats itself or that you have lied to me on this asion, the consequences will be severe. Do you understand?


    She understands, Quill intervened. Thank you, captain, he added and steered Kate out of the room.


    Thanks, Kate mumbled once they were some distance down the corridor. Once Lord Elis came into the room, I thought I made a mistake. My tongue just froze, I thought he would have me killed.


    You are quite wee, Quill told her before faintughter escaped his lips.


    Whats funny? Kate frowned.


    I was reminded of an inder saying, Quill answered, still smiling. How goes it? The smallest leak can sink the greatest ship, I think they say.


    Why did you think of that? Kate asked.


    Whatever Lord Elis schemes were, I am sure they wereplicated to no end. Yet for all his cunning, Quill said amused, his great ns wereid low by a kitchen girl.


    A kitchen girl who can read, Kate said proudly. And navigate by the stars, and who knows the history of the realms.


    Quite right, Quillughed as they walked down the corridor. Outside, light was waning; nightfall was at most a few hours away.


    ~~~~


    The dungeons of the Citadel were part of thergeplex that stretched below the ground, near the food stores, water reservoirs, Hall of the Honoured Dead, and what other rooms that had been delved. While the areas containing supplies had numerous guards posted by them, only one guard could be spared for the section containing the prisoner cells.


    These were few in number; given that nearly all crimes were punished with fines, exile, and on the rare asion with execution, there was never need for lengthy incarceration of anybody. They were only used in the short term for holding those awaiting trial or judgement, such as thendgrave of Elis.


    Walking down the stairs under the north tower, one would reach arge, circr guardroom. Like a many-pointed star, corridors extended in every direction from here, each of these containing multiple cells. Elis had been thrown into one of these. He was the only prisoner in the dungeons; the garrison had not taken captives after repelling the assault upon the Citadel by the Isarn soldiers.


    The single sentinel assigned to guard Elis was in the circr entrance room with heavy doors between them. Furthermore, Elis was secured by chains to the wall; all he could see was the door to his cell, which had a small window with bars to allow somebody outside to check on his state without entering the room.


    Therefore, when odd sounds reached Elis, distorted by distance and doors, thendgrave was unable to move and see the cause. He called out but received no reply; then he heard the door between the guardroom and the corridor swing open and footsteps approaching. A shape appeared by the door to his cell, but theck of light did not allow him to see who it was. Keys could be heard jangling in the keyhole, and a momentter, the door swung open. The person stepping forward did not wear an Order surcoat.


    What is going on? Elis said with barely a breath.


    I am here to talk, Holwine said, squatting in front of Elis with a predators smile. Or rather, listen to you talk.


    Stay back, Elis stammered, pressing up against the wall to which he was chained.


    Afraid I cant, came Holwines answer, apanied by a knife being drawn. You see, someone I care for has risked an awful lot to stop your friends outside the walls. I cant let you undo that.


    If you hurt me, Elis said hoarsely, they will hang you. I am a lord, you cannoty a finger on me.


    Holwineughed. Tell me, Lord Elis, do you have any idea who I am?


    No, Elis said with as much defiance as he could muster. You are just a servant. Nothingpared to my importance!


    Then how can they punish me for this when you do not know who hurt you? Holwine asked with a smile and pressed the cool de against Elis cheek. Time for answers, milord, the servant said.


    ~~~~


    It was almost dark when a knight opened the door to Theobalds study and strode in without dy. He was the same knight givenmand over the remaining Order regiments, which had arrived from the north and been unable to leave Middanhal before the uprising. Along with Theobald, he was the only man wearing golden spurs in the city. You wanted to see me? the knight said gruffly.


    Fionn, you should read this, the captain replied, handing him a small piece of paper.


    The knight grabbed the offered paper and read it, mumbling to himself. <em>To the captain</em>, he muttered as his eyes nced downwards. <em>Spoke with Elis in the dungeons  confirmed his treason</em>, Fionn eximed, looking up at the captain.


    Keep reading, Theobald told him.


    <em>Assault tonight on northern gate  sorry about your guard  apart from a headache he is no worse for the wear</em>, the knight finished reading, rubbing a small bump on the back of his own head.


    I found that letter waiting for me in my personal chambers, Theobald said dourly. Sent a man to the dungeons and true enough, the guard had been knocked out and ced in one of the cells. Lord Elis was babbling incoherently but seems fine apart from a few scrapes.


    What does this mean? Fionn asked, his eyes examining the letter once more.


    Either someone is ying a game tooplex for me to understand, Theobald began to say, or else we are in for a rough night.


    You put faith in this? Fionn said sceptically. A note without name, making dubious ims.


    I cannot afford to overlook it, Theobald argued. If there is a shred of truth to it, we must be ready.


    We are stretched thin, Fionn reminded him. Even if we deny most of our men sleep, we cannot scrape together more than fifty soldiers or so for the defence. Unless you want to abandon more sentry posts.


    Theobald did not answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back slightly. What times we live in, he muttered. I never expected such when I was given this position. The North in revolt, rebels outside in the streets and traitors inside our walls!


    Theobald, Fionn said sternly, save such talk for the bards. What do you want done?


    Scrape those fifty men together. Choose from the kingthanes, I want the best warriors we have.


    Fionn nodded. I will collect them now and bring them to the northern garrison tower.


    Not yourself, Theobald instructed. You spend the night in the southern.


    Theobald, Fionn began to protest, I am your only knight in here. I must be where the fighting is.


    Remember the principles, Theobald admonished him. Never bothmanders in the same ce.


    If you fall tonight, it will be because the Citadel is overrun, Fionn argued. There will be nothing for me tomand.


    Theobald shook his head. If they breach the castle, you must lead the final defence. Retreat into the royal wings. It is the most defensible inner part. Kill as many of these dogs as you can.


    Let us hope it does note to that, Fionn said. Besides, with Lord Elis in the dungeons, the rebels have lost their advantage. Maybe they will abandon their attack when they see the gate is not opened for them.


    Perhaps, Theobald said doubtingly. They hold the northern city walls. It might give them sufficient ess to storm our defences. We shall hope for the best and prepare for the worst.


    As always, Fionn nodded and left, walking towards the kingthanes quarters.

 Chapter 36: The Unbidden Guest

    Chapter 36: The Unbidden Guest


    The Unbidden Guest


    Middanhal


    As night came, the silence upon the streets of Middanhal was asionally broken by boots walking on cobbled stones; moving two hundred men into position could not be done without noise. However, the many buildings gave cover and prevented the defenders of the Citadel from observing the soldiers of Isarn approaching the great fortress. In small groups, they filtered towards the gates of the castle undetected.


    To the south, the men under Ernulf kept their distance; the Arnsweg ended in front of the gate and gave a broad, open area where they would instantly be spotted if they moved forward too soon. To the north, those following Ulfrik could approach much closer. Some went along the city walls to the fortified passageways between the fortifications and the Citadel; the rest crept closer by moving from building to building until a hundred men were scattered in a wide arc to surround the northern gate of the Citadel.


    Once in position, an eerie mood spread. Every man was tense, and the anticipation of battle loomed heavily. No words were spoken, no smiles were seen, only resolute expressions mixed with the asional anxiety. The tension was made worse by the uncertainty. All eyes were on the northern gate in hopes of seeing it open, in hopes that with one blow, the Citadel could be taken. Yet nothing happened.


    The moon was still all but invisible, but the stars moved slowly across the sky as the only measurement of time that the would-be attackers had. Impatiently, Ulfrik stood moving his neck from side to side, rolling his shoulders, weighing the heavy two-handed axe in his hands, constantly ncing up.


    It is past midnight, he finally growled, and nothing. This smells like a trap.


    What do we do, captain? asked the nearby thane who acted as his second-inmand.


    We give Ernulf his chance. Make some noise, men! Ulfrik eximed, roaring the final sentence.


    The sudden disturbance of the night silence passed like an ethereal tidal force through his soldiers, breaking the tension. It took a moment before they caught on; then they roared battle cries and banged their weapons against their shields, stomping their boots as they moved around to give the impression that many hundred soldiers hid among the buildings.


    South of the Citadel, Ernulf and his men heard the sounds too. Turning towards the engineer, who stood ready by the ballista, the thane nodded. Its time, he told the man from Fontaine. Two of Ernulfs soldiers pushed the ballista forward into the open street by the Citadel walls with the remaining men surrounding the siege machinery; meanwhile, the short engineer prepared the munition.


    ~~~~


    The Citadel had two major towers, dominating the others in size and height. Respectively theyy at the northern and southern end of the main cluster of buildings thatprised the central construction of the fortress; they served as small headquarters for the garrison. One tower had easy ess to the northern castle walls, the other to the southern. When fully manned, each would hold hundreds of soldiers, constantly moving to or from patrols of the fortifications, and the rest stood ready to respond to any threats arising while they were on duty.


    With the garrison starved for men, only twenty could be spared in either tower. However, on this particr night another fifty had been added to their numbers in the northern tower. They were kingthanes all along with Berimund and Theobald. Despite his bad leg, the captain of the Citadel was restless. He moved about, limping slightly, and asionally he took a seat only to momentarily afterwards get up again. At the great noise and mour raised by Ulfriks soldiers, every man in the northern tower leapt to attention. All grabbed or unsheathed their weapons and ran out towards the northern walls. Reaching them, no enemy was in sight, however; no foes had breached the fortifications. The soldiers guarding the gate stood bewildered, shrugging in ignorance as Theobald reached them.


    ~~~~


    Elsewhere, Ernulf and his men moved into position. The few sentinels nearby spotted them and began raising cries of rm, but the noise from the north deafened it. A climbing hook, attached to a long length of rope, was loaded by the engineer into the ballista with the other end of the rope tied to the machine. Taking aim, the engineer moved a few levers and released its power. The hook and rope shot upwards into an arch,nding perfectly against the crions. Immediately archers on the ground began shooting at any defenders approaching the hook, preventing them from removing it.


    A soldier grabbed the rope and pulled back, ensuring that the hook had a safe grip. Untying the other end of the rope from the ballista, the soldier ran forward towards the wall and began scaling it, pulling himself up while bracing his feet against the wall. Behind him, other soldiers immediately followed suit, climbing up the fortifications as well. Further behind, the engineer loaded the ballista with the next hook and took aim.


    ~~~~


    In the southern tower, its garrison of twenty men was dispersed in various activities; some were ying dice, a few talking and drinking diluted ale, one man repairing his shirt with needle and thread. Fionn was there as well,manding the small garrison; he was sharpening his meat knife with a small whetstone. What was that? a soldier eximed, who had been gnawing on a carrot. The mour and ngs of battle, although faint, had reached them.


    Theyre attacking the northern gate, Fionn replied. He was frowning, but he made no signs to move.


    Shouldnt we reinforce, sir? asked the soldier sewing up his shirt. He held the needle straight ahead as if it were a weapon.


    We have our post to man, Fionn said, shaking his head. We cannot leave.


    But youre a knight, argued another. You canmand us.


    Captain told me to stand fast, Fionn retorted. The boys at the other tower have their task, we have ours.


    But theyre only twenty men, objected the man with the needle. How can they hold out on their own?


    They are seventy, Fionn corrected. They will hold.


    Seventy? You knew there would be an attack on the northern gate? somebody asked.


    We suspected, Fionn exined. Though it seemed unlikely. We did not want to start rumours.


    But what if they cannot hold? insisted one of the dice yers. Twenty men may make the difference, milord. What if the castle falls while we sit here?


    We have our orders, Fionn said, though his voice wavered.


    Then give us new ones, urged another. We cant sit here while the others are fighting and dying.


    Their conversation was interrupted by a soldier sprinting into themon room. Enemies on the walls, he panted.


    We know, Fionn said gruffly. Northern garrison is there.


    Not north, the soldier managed to spit out. South, here. On the walls.


    Fionn stood up abruptly. They are here? Near us?


    What if its a trick, sir? someone asked. You said you knew they would attack the northern gate. They could be distracting us, keep us from helping them.


    No, theyre here, said the soldier who had arrivedst.


    You have seen them with your own eyes? Fionn asked sharply.


    Yes, milord.


    Fionn drew his sword. If the enemy is south, we go south. I am tired of having a clean sword, he proimed and hastened out the tower, followed by his men.


    Reaching the fortifications and moving along them towards the Isarn soldiers, dozens of men could be spotted ahead by Fionn. If he had leaned over the side of the parapet, he would also have been able to see the same number of soldiers scaling the walls, and many more standing ready on the ground to take the trip as well. The knights attention was on those protecting the climbing hooks, however, helping theirrades reach the top of the walls. Discovering Fionn and his soldiers approaching, the men of Isarn turned to face them.


    The three closest soldiers seemed fresh-faced peasant boys with little weapon training. The climb had not allowed them to bring spears, and only one had his shield with him. Furthermore, they did not even grasp how to spread out properly along the width of the wall, and they ended up facing the knight one by one. Fionn had a sword as they did, and he had his shield; added to that, he was a warrior hardened by battle and trained in weaponry since the age of seven. They did not even slow his momentum as he moved past them, and his sword needed only to strike thrice; then they ally dead and Fionn faced the fourth attacker without having lost speed.


    Fionns next adversary had the trappings of a thane, and he held his weapons with understanding. Both struck at the other man without inflicting wounds. Seeing that he dealt with a stronger foe, Fionn opted for different tactics. The thane wore greaves to protect his shins, but the back of his legs had only leather. The knight dropped to one knee and swept out his sword, just enough that the tip could tore through the tendons of the thanes ankle. With an agonising yell, the wounded man fell to his knees. As he got up to stand, Fionn pushed his sword through the thanes open mouth, pulled it back, and nced forward.


    The remaining soldiers stood grouped together, shields side by side and with more Isarn soldiers constantly climbing over the battlement to join them. ncing back at his soldiers, Fionn gestured with his sword for them to advance. Forward, men! There are beasts for the butchering tonight, he said with a fell smile. The Star! he yelled as his battle cry, raising his sword high before he charged, followed by his men.


    ~~~~


    The sounds of battle had its effect on not only the soldiers in the garrison towers, but everybody who was inside the Citadel. All over the castle, men leapt out of bed and rushed towards the source of the disruption while putting mail shirts on and girding their sword belts. From the other towers and garrison posts, the soldiers gazed anxiously towards where the fighting unfolded, but none of them had the authority to abandon their position. With no visibility, they could not even watch thebat unfold; their only option was to pray and resist the urge to leave their post.


    In his tower, Quill also woke. With a fearful expression on his face, he rushed into the library hall and towards the window that overlooked the southern courtyard. However, he could espy nothing in the darkness; instead, he grabbed thetch and pulled the window open. Immediately, the hitherto muffled, distorted sounds that had awakened him became vivid, evoking images of steel striking steel and men filled with battle lust.


    Quill quickly pushed the window shut. He tried once more to look through its ss and gain any glimpse of events unfolding, but still to no avail. There were only a few torches outside within his field of vision that brought any light; they all belonged to the soldiers standing guard on the towers and battlements, and none of them moved or indicated that they were being attacked. Whatever assault was being made, Quill could gain no knowledge of it.


    He gave a start as somebody banged on the heavy door to the tower. With cautious steps, Quill approached as the banging continued, and eventually he heard voices too. Quickly turning the key, Quill opened the door and found a score of kitchen girls standing in the corridor with Kate in front. Opening the door wide, Quill gestured for them to hurry inside; once thest girl, one of the eldest who had pushed the small ones in front of her, had entered, Quill mmed the door shut and locked it again.


    Having been in the tower before, the girls were less intimidated by its interior, and they scattered to find seats on the chairs and benches avable. A few moved towards the window to gaze out, but they soon abandoned it when they had as little luck as Quill.


    Let me light a few candles, Quill mumbled, opening the ss cabs that contained the only source of open fire allowed in the library. There we are, much better, he said satisfied as light soon spread through the hall.


    Its nice up here, one girlmented. You cant really hear all the noise outside, she nodded approving.


    Its very good for reading, Kate said, nodding as well. Very peaceful.


    Whats it like to read? another asked. Does it hurt your eyes?


    You get a little tired, maybe, Kate replied casually. Its well worth it though. Its like somebody telling you a story, except you decide when. You just open a book and you get the story right there, straight to you.


    I dont understand, a younger member of theirpany said, who was staring at an open book lying on a desk. There are no pictures, just little lines. Wheres the story?


    You must learn the secret of reading, Kate exined with a voice overflowing with satisfaction. These are letters, they tell you the words. Here at the front, she said, grabbing one end of the book to show its cover, is the title. The Knights  The Knights  Kate read aloud, stumbling as she reached the word Codex. This is a boring book, you dont want this one, she said dismissively, letting go of it again.


    How about, Quill said loudly, grabbing the attention of everyone present, that I choose a book. And you all gather here rather than rummage about through all my rooms and shelves. This one, he suggested, taking a small book and sitting down on a bench. Quickly, the girls crowded around him. <em>Holgast and the Dukes Dinner</em>, the scribe read out the title as he opened the book by the first page. Though I think in most parts it is actually known as <em>The Unbidden Guest.</em>


    Whats a duke? somebody asked.


    A nobleman from Ealond. Almost as powerful as their king, Quill exined.


    Like a jarl? Kate suggested quickly.


    Yes, you might say that, Quill smiled.


    Whos Holgast? I dont think I know him, does he work in the kitchens? one of the smaller girls wondered.


    Doubtful, Quill said amused. This book is over a hundred years old, the story even more so.


    Does it have pictures? the youngest girl asked.


    No, but I am confident your imagination will suffice, Quill said. Hurrying before further questions arose, he raised his hand tomand silence, cleared his throat, and began to read.


    <em>Once, a wanderer was walking the road between Fontaine and Tricaster. He looked most ordinary. A walking staff in his hand, a heavy cloak to shield him from wind and rain, and a cap for when the sun shone in his face</em>


    ~~~~


    Half an hourter, the captain of the Citadel finally heard word that the southern walls had been assaulted. Nothing had happened on the northern gate; no attacks had been attempted, but Theobald had not dared to move his soldiers away when the enemy was clearly right outside. The noise caused by Ulfriks men had served its purpose as a diversion and obscured what happened elsewhere. Eventually, a guard came from the south to alert the captain. Splitting his forces, Theobald took twenty-five kingthanes with him. He ignored his limp and managed to move with astonishing crity through the Citadel until he could walk out onto the southern fortifications.


    Theobald found Fionn cleaning his sword, surrounded by numerous bodies. Most wore Isarn colours, though some had the starry surcoat of the Order. What happened here?


    Climbing hooks, they tried to take the wall, Fionn exined, sheathing his sword. We repulsed them.


    How many were they? Theobald asked.


    Think we killed fifty or so before the rest gave up. It was not a full assault, the knight replied with a casual voice. More like testing our ability to repel them. We lost eleven ourselves. And you?


    Nothing, The captain shook his head. Only noise. A distraction.


    You think that was the n? Somebody framed Lord Elis, left that note in your study, and made us think they would attack one ce while attacking somewhere else? Fionn suggested.


    Honestly, I have no idea anymore, Theobald said disheartened. Could be.


    We have some long nights ahead of us, the other man acknowledged. Tonight was invigorating though. I have been itching to wet my de with traitors blood for days.


    I am d you got something out of it, Theobald replied dryly, ncing at the bodies of the in attackers. I will return north, in case the night is not over, he told Fionn and limped away. The captains caution was unnecessary, however; nothing further happened that night.

 Chapter 37: Relief

    Chapter 37: Relief


    Relief


    Middanhal


    When morning came, it brought relief to the inhabitants of the Citadel. The garrison had resisted an assault and proved that it was capable of defending the fortress against the rebels. Those in were ced in the Hall of the Honoured Dead with their weapons until such time they could be buried. Breakfast was dyed for the court, though no harsh words were spoken on that asion; everybody was too relieved to be angry.


    While most assumed that the dy was simply because the servants were rxing and enjoying the good mood inside the castle, there was another reason. A score of the kitchen girls were not in their beds when it was time to wake, and subsequently they appearedter in the kitchens than normal to begin the days work. In fact, all the girls sharing a dormitory with Kate had fallen asleep in the library tower.


    Time to wake, Quill called out, still wearing his sleepwear from when the assault had roused him. Around the tower, sleepy girls woke up from their improvised beds; nkets on tables and benches, many of them huddled together for warmth. Upon hearing Quills voice, they stirred from slumber.


    Thank you, Master Quill, one of them said without specifying what precisely had given cause for gratitude, perhaps a mixture of all the events of the preceding night. Several other girls repeated the sentiment with voices slurred of weariness as he unlocked therge door and opened it for them.


    It was no matter, Quill muttered, watching them move towards the door one by one. A few walked outside, but when it came time for the youngest girl to leave, she stopped and hesitated before she wrapped her small arms around Quills waist, which was as high up as she could reach. There, now, he said, patting her head awkwardly. He found no immediate release, however; upon seeing this, the other girls crowded around him to likewise express their fondness until he could not keep himself fromughing.


    The kitchens soon after were flurrying with activity to make up for lost time. Cook scowled and barked at the girls as they marched in, but there was little bite in her tongue. Once breakfast had been served and it was time for the servants to have their own meal in the form of porridge, the fearsome matron even left the kitchens to tend to some other affair; without her usual supervision, the servants could fill their tespletely and eat everyst scrap without reproach.


    Later in the day, Kate had to fetch water; she separated from the others and walked down the corridor, whose only other exit was the small room constructed to house the well that fed from the castle cisterns. She had just lowered the bucket and begun pulling it back when something unnerved her, and she turned on her heel. Blocking the corridor once again was Holwine.


    I am not doing it! Kate eximed. As the rope slipped from her hands, the bucket sshed down into the well.


    Doing what? Holwine frowned.


    Whatever it is you want me to do, Kate said determinedly. I refuse.


    The other personughed. I am only here to thank you, Kate.


    Oh. The kitchen girl rxed. Well, I prefer that.


    Thanks to you, a traitor was unmasked and an attack was prevented. Last night would have gone differently if not for you, Holwine said, grabbing the rope and pulling up the full bucket from the well.


    I guess I did good, Kate grinned as she took hold of the bucket. Funny, I didnt even know that was my fault. That the enemy was beaten back, I mean.


    Probably very few people will ever know, Holwine nodded. But I am one of them. I wanted to tell you that. To let you know that you are a hero, Kate.


    Im just a girl, Kate said with half a smile. I cut vegetables and fetch water and pluck fowls.


    One does not have to exclude the other, Holwine said with a wry smile. The servant left swiftly without further words, leaving Kate behind with flushed cheeks.


    ~~~~


    In the dungeons, Elis was in a mood as low as his subterranean amodations. Whenever the guard entered and left a te of food within his reach, the chained nobleman would spray questions in every direction but to no avail. Due to his location, Elis had been unable to hear whether or not there had been an attack. The only thing he could deduce, given the surcoat of his guard, was that the Order still held the Citadel.


    The morning had not yet passed when Elis heard the familiar sound of the door between the circr guardroom and the corridor opening. A face looked in on the prisoner through the barred window in the cell door.


    Mydy, Elis said hoarsely.


    You look pitiful, Isabel said with a neutral voice.


    Momentary setback, Elis imed without much conviction.


    The rebels attackedst night but were repulsed. Your efforts failed, Isabel reported.


    Elis looked disheartened for a moment. At least there is no actual proof of my involvement, he managed to say.


    There is now. I spoke with the captain of the Citadel just this morning and told him of yourplicity, thedy said in a factual voice.


    What? Elis stammered.


    You failed one too many times, Isabel said lightly. I could not take the risk you might attempt to implicate me to save yourself.


    I would never, Elis dered indignantly.


    Would you not? Isabel asked rhetorically with one eyebrow raised.


    But they will throw you in chains as well! Elis burst out. You have achieved nothing but doom us both!


    Would I be standing here if that were the case? You think too little of me, Isabel said coldly. I told the captain that you had bragged about your intentions to betray the garrison, ostensibly to impress me. When I was not, you threatened me. I was afraid to speak up, Isabel exined, weaving the tale expertly. And I thought it was all bluster on your part. Only when I heard of your incarceration and the attack did I realise my grave error by not immediately telling all of this to the captain. s, Isabel said with a grim smile, I am but a feeble, weak-willed woman. Could anyone me me? The captain, at least, chose not to.


    You have killed me, Elis said while staring nkly ahead as realisation struck him. They will execute me for this.


    Most likely, Isabel assented. I merely thought you deserved to be told in advance by me personally.


    Unless Isarn takes the Citadel, Elis said, his voice clinging to hope. They will free me, they will know I am their friend.


    Except they do not know, Isabel reminded him. You made sure your name was kept secret.


    But I can convince them, Elis said feebly. Imunicated with them. I can prove it was me.


    Even so, why should the jarl care? You baited his men into a failed assault, Isabel pointed out. Before that, you deceived him at the Adalthing, robbing him of the position as lord protector. If the Order does not execute you, Lord Elis, I feel quite certain that Jarl Isarn will.


    Last month I was dragonlord of Adalrik, Elis whispered. How did this happen?


    I suggest you take this time to get your affairs in order. If you confess and throw yourself on their mercy, perhaps they will allow your son to inherit your title. It would not have been the case in Hthiod, Isabel said light-heartedly, but these drakonians are soft-hearted. Farewell, Lord Elis.


    ~~~~


    Inside the Templeplex, the high priest was sitting on the bed in his cell. In front of him stood a ckrobe, an acolyte by theck of emblem on his chest. The attack was repulsed, Holy One, the acolyte reported. In the darkness, it was difficult to see much, but they seem to have only attacked the southern walls. It was small scale as well. Little more than a hundred men involved, perhaps.


    I see, Septimus nodded slowly. Two of his fingers were ying with a loose strand on his grey robe, straightening it out until it slipped from his grasp and then repeating the motion. What were the casualties?


    We counted at least forty men of Isarn scaling the walls and not returning. Perhaps a few more. As for the garrison, it is impossible to say what their losses were.


    Your best guess?


    The acolyte stood with a face painted with doubt. Six or seven were in as the Isarn soldiers first reached the walls. Perhaps the same number lost as they repelled the attackers. Probably more, he corrected himself. But of course, some may only have been wounded and survived the battle once aid could be administered.


    Good, Septimus nodded thoughtfully. Good, he repeated, his voice growing distant. Has Sister Adh broken mymand?


    Not as far as I know, the ckrobe told him. But I can ask the brother whost watched her.


    Do that, please, Septimus said while his eyes stared idly into the air.


    Will there be anything else, Holy One? the acolyte asked.


    No, thank you, Septimus smiled, turning to look at hispanion while shaking his head. You may leave.


    After the other man had left, Septimus sat in contemtion for a while. At length, he took a small knife from his desk and cut the loose thread from his robe; then he stood up, straightened the fabric a bit, and left his room.


    ~~~~


    The soldiers involved in the attack had left the Isarnpound after dark, and they returned before dawn; thus, very few had seen their movements either way. However, the absence of those killed upon the Citadel walls could be observed. There was also a great number of wounded moving about in the courtyard as their injuries allowed them; the archers of the garrison had done good work, and many Isarn soldiers had been hurt fleeing down the walls or in the fall sustained when their path of escape had literally been severed by the victorious defenders. Those who had suffered too much to walk were ced on improvised beds in a tent erected on the yard, ording to the conventional wisdom that fresh air increased the healing process.


    There has been fighting, Arndis told the others as she took her ce by the window and watched everything going on in the courtyard.


    They made their attack on the Citadel, Theodwyn spected, joining Arndis by the observation post.


    Most likely. Or fighting erupted somewhere else in the city, Arndis pondered.


    Did they win or lose? Eleanor asked, absent-mindedly running a finger over the scars on her cheek.


    Impossible to say, Theodwyn said annoyed. And these wretches outside our door will not tell us much, I wager.


    We will ask the servants when they bring us food, Arndis dered.


    If they have taken the Citadel, Eleanor considered, does this mean we cannot expect to be freed by the Order?


    I do not think it matters much in that respect, Theodwyn argued. The Citadel holding out is an annoyance. It will be an army from the outside that arrives and retakes the city.


    But which? Arndis said with a touch of despair in her voice as she left her post and paced around the room. With the army at Lake Myr gone, who is left to save the city and us?


    The Order has armies in the other realms, Theodwyn mentioned. It is a matter of time only until they react to the jarls treachery.


    Weeks? Months? Arndis asked, to which Theodwyn could only shrug.


    But what about the jarl Vale? Eleanor inserted, prompting the other two women to look at her. He has an army, and he must desire to see the city liberated from Jarl Isarn as well.


    I do not know if we would be in much better conditions, Theodwyn said with a sinister tone. If one jarl defeats the other, whoever is left will take control of the realm. We may exchange one tyrant for another.


    How promising, Arndis muttered.


    Do not lose hope yet, my littlembs, Theodwyn said with uncharacteristic cheer. This war has just begun. We may suffer for the moment, yes, but it is far from over. It does not befitdies of our standing to sink into desperation simply because our circumstances are less than ideal. Do you hear me, Arndis?


    Yes, yes, the other woman answered wearily. I am just fatigued by theck of news. The constant uncertainty.


    We all have someone dear to us trapped in conflict, Eleanor reminded them.


    I know, Arndis nodded. And there are some who have it worse. The jarlinna, being pregnant and with her little son, and the jarl being dragged away as a prisoner.


    Lady Ingmond seemed to possess fortitude, Theodwyn said confidently. I am sure she is holding her head high.


    Maybe, Arndis said doubtingly. She has two lives to safeguard apart from her own. I would not me her for being in deep distress.


    She is a jarlinna, and Jarl Ingmond is their most important hostage, Theodwyn argued. They will not dare to harm her.


    Let us hope so, Eleanor added, her fingers once more tracing the marks of disfiguration upon her face. In war, there are few such guarantees. When men be desperate, they lose what makes them men.


    You speak of experience, Eleanor? Theodwyn asked with a raised eyebrow.


    No, Eleanor said quietly, just thinking out loud. You never know what a man might do until he is cornered. Having said that, she quickly removed her fingers from her scars by closing her hand to a fist.


    ~~~~


    Outside in the courtyard, Ulfrik and Ernulf were assessing the damage. Once it had been clear that the assault would fail and Ernulf had signalled a retreat, those already on the walls had been left to die. Perversely, this now aided them in hiding the scope of their failure; there were fewer wounded whom the others had brought back for treatment at the Isarn manor. Still, it could not be hidden that some form of skirmish had been fought.


    Even the Dull Knife is bound to notice something happened, Ernulf mumbled.


    That is not your concern, Ulfrik told him brusquely.


    It will be if our grip on the city is weakened due to this, Ernulf retorted. We will not be able to man the walls and patrol the city as effectively.


    It is no matter, Ulfrik said dismissively. The garrison at the Citadel is no threat to us.


    What do we tell Isenwald about this? Ernulf asked with a low voice. What if the jarl finds out?


    Leave all that to me, Ulfrik replied with his customary growl. I will handle the boy and his father.


    You should. This was yourmand, all responsibility falls upon you, Ernulf dered.


    Swiftly, Ulfrik grabbed him by the cor. Do not think for one second to go behind my back, the captain said with a clenched jaw, using his imposing size for intimidation. Do not breathe a word of this to our lord or his son. Or I will take you with me, I swear by Hel.


    I would never dream, milord, Ernulf said, turning his face away.


    Good, Ulfrik hissed, slowly releasing the thane from his grasp.


    What  is going  on? Isenwald said. The two warriors had conducted their conversation by the steps to the entrance of the house, and now the current lord of the city appeared in the doorway.


    Small misunderstanding, my lord, Ulfrik said. It has been settled.


    What about them? Isenwald nodded towards the tent. Its sides were open to allow fresh air freely, which meant that the wounded were clearly visible.


    The enemy attempted a nightly assault from the castle, Ulfrik swiftly exined. It was easily dismissed, and they retreated.


    Did we suffer  losses?


    Not many, my lord, Ulfrik reassured him.


    Perhaps this will make  it easier for us to capture the castle, Isenwald considered.


    Doubtful, Ernulf mumbled, though he was not heard by the others.


    My father sends word, Isenwald continued, waving a piece of parchment in his hands. It arrived  just this morning, right after the city gates  opened.


    Good news, my lord? Ulfrik asked.


    He writes that most of the remaining northernndgraves are  on  our side, Isenwald nodded. Soon they will havepleted their muster. He says  in a few weeks at most, we will have all the soldiers we need.


    Good, Ulfrik smiled coldly. Then we can end this war.


    I hope so, Isenwald assented. The sooner the better. I am not fond  of all this, he added before he turned back into the house.


    You realise that if we win, that boy bes heir to the throne after his father, Ernulf said once Isenwald was out of earshot.


    That is not your concern, Ulfrik told him with a vicious look.


    He strikes me as someone easily ruled by the counsel of others, Ernulf ventured to say.


    Careful, Ernulf. I once removed the tongue from a man because his words displeased me, the captain of the thanes threatened.


    I meant no offence, Ernulf said, raising his hands in a disarming gesture. I merely hope youll not forget who has always followed yourmand.


    Though not with much sess, Ulfrik snorted. But keep your mouth shut and do as you are told, he added. You would be surprised how far in life that will get you.


    I live to serve, Ernulf smiled and walked away.


    ~~~~


    In the days following their failed assault on the Citadel, the upiers of Middanhal made few other moves. They tightened their control on the various districts and reinforced the blockade around the Citadel, ensuring that a sharp watch was kept and no sortie possible. Days began to turn into weeks before the city experienced upheaval once more.


    It happened at nightfall; nearly a month after Isarns uprising had first begun. The moon hadpleted another cycle and was once again absent from the night sky; thus it did not illuminate what was about to transpire. There was no indication until past midnight; then the first arrows began to fly. Such stealth was employed that up towards another hour passed until secrecy could no longer be maintained and the first messages of warning were passed on to rouse the Isarn warriors at theirpound.


    Inside their house, chaos erupted as people woke up. There was a sh between the unquestionable certainty that the shouts of rm meant an attack and the sheer unexpectedness of the event. Themon soldiers, whose makeshift barracks were the outer buildings of the Isarnpound, gathered in the courtyard to wait for orders. The thanes and household soldiers inside the main house itself congregated in the entrance hall, exchanging bewildered looks as they donned their armour and readied their weapons.


    What  is happening? Isenwald asked, blinking repeatedly as his eyes were still heavy with sleep.


    An attack, Ulfrik sneered. We must


    He was interrupted by the doors opening and one of their soldiers rushing inside. He all but copsed as soon as he was past the entrance as evidence of the haste he had employed. Milords, he breathed barely audible.


    Speak, man! Ulfrik shouted. Do you have knowledge of the enemy? Is it the garrison at the Citadel?


    No, the soldier shook his head faintly. They came from outside, against the walls.


    Run to the barricade, Ulfrikmanded a nearby thane. Tell the men there to hurry to the south walls and reinforce them.


    Toote, came an objection from the newly arrived soldier. You dont understand, he panted. They are in the city!

 Chapter 38: Tread Lightly

    Chapter 38: Tread Lightly


    Tread Lightly


    Valcaster


    After Isenwalds warning to Valerie, every member of the House of Vale in Middanhal had quickly and quietly left the capital. The same night where the jarl of Isarn made his bid for power and seized control of the city, the jarl of Vale was sitting in a carriage on the Kingsroad. With him were his brother, daughter, nephew, his chambein, and his thanes on their own mounts. The following day, they left the Kingsroad and travelled west as fast as their horses could carry them. There was little rest or respite until they reached Coldharbour, the northernmost city in the province of Vale. As theirpany passed through the gate, many breathed sighs of relief.


    Arion the chambein was immediately dispatched south to Valcaster, seat of the jarls of Vale, on the swiftest ship that could be found; in his hands, he brought orders to prepare for war. The morning after, the jarl and his family followed suit, travelling by ship down the Mihtea; with favourable wind or many oars, a ship could make that journey in a few days. Despite having reached the rtive safety of their own territory, there was little conversation between the kinsfolk of Vale. Valerian, remembering how and why Valerie was warned about Isenharts ns, did not speak to his daughter. Valerie was too disheartened to respond to her cousins attempts at cheering her up. Sometimes, when neither Valerian or Valerie would speak, Konstantine would instead try to engage his father with no luck either; Konstans was too upied making ns to speak to anyone.


    Thus, the journey passed in silence until their ship spotted the towers of Valcaster in the distance. Approximately a week had passed since their flight from Middanhal; that very night before, Elis had carried out his schemes and Kate had stolen pears in the Citadel orchard. None of the members of the House of Vale knew of the events in Middanhal that were taking ce or about to; they only knew that Valcaster, secondrgest city in Adalrik, was about to wee them home.


    The ship had been spotted many hours before it would reach the harbour of Valcaster, and the banner upon the mast proimed that it had the jarl aboard. Therefore, when the ship moored along the pier, several people stood in attendance. At the front stood two women; just behind them was the chambein Arion, having arrived a few days before. Both women were richly dressed in silk and jewellery, either of which exceeded a years wage for abourer. The two women had little else inmon, though. One was young, in the middle of her twenties; the other approached twice that age. One wore a bright smile that illuminated her features with joy; the other wore a nk expression that showed no emotion. One was wringing her hands in anticipation, restless and finding it difficult to stand still; the other was an immovable object.


    You may contain yourself, Alexandra, the older woman said without looking at herpanion. The ship will not arrive faster.


    I know, mydy, Alexandra said, her eyes keeping focus forward as well. I am merely still overwhelmed by all the news. Until I see our lord, I can scarce believe he is already returning.


    You may be assured, mydy, Arions smooth voice came from behind, that the jarl is on that ship.


    Yes, yes, Arion, the older woman said dismissively, the jarlinna is not questioning your message. It is merely youthful exuberance that has her in its grasp, I wager, she said with a superior tone of voice.


    Of course, Lady Mathilde, Arion said softly, retreating a step.


    Now the ship approached the harbour. Valcaster was built around a bend in the river Mihtea, slowing its current, forcing ships to adjust course, thereby making it a natural ce to moor and rest from ones journey. The cityy south of the river, which flowed along the northern and western side of Valcaster. On the opposing bank, a mighty tower had been built with catapults to sink hostile ships and control that side of the river. Of course, a ship with sails in the red and golden colours of Vale would not be subjected to any such event. Unhindered, the jarls ship sailed down the river, made the bend, passed the tower, and finally reached the harbour of Valcaster.


    Swiftly, the skilled boat hands made the leap from ship to pier, mooring it securely, so the jarl and his rtives could disembark. His brother, his daughter, andstly his nephew along with the thanes. As soon as his feet touched the pier, Valerian took swift steps towards Alexandra, who mirrored his movements. She extended her hands, which he grasped with his own.


    It is good to see you return, my lord, she smiled.


    It is good to be seen returned, he said with a trace ofughter. Mathilde, he added, greeting her with a brief nod before his attention returned towards his wife.


    My lord, Mathilde replied, returning the jarls greeting and speaking her own towards his brother, Konstans. Husband.


    Dearest wife, Konstans said neutrally.


    The two brothers continued moving forward; their wives turned around, falling into pace and walking alongside them, followed by their retinue. Valerie and Konstantine quickly closed the distance to walk side by side with the others, prompting another flurry of exchanged greetings.


    Hallo, Mother, Konstantine said quietly.


    Wee home, my son, Mathilde replied, exhibiting a smile briefly.


    Valerie, so good to see you, Alexandra eximed, taking hold of the other womans arm as they walked next to each other.


    Same to you, Valerie smiled.


    Straight to your chamber, Valerie, Valerian said with a stern voice, staring straight ahead. Nowhere else.


    Yes, Father, Valerie muttered. Alexandra sent her an inquisitive look but received nothing in return.


    No further words were spoken as they left the pier where two carriages waited for them. The members of the House of Vale climbed inside while the thanes took marching positions surrounding the wagons, the entire retinue leaving the harbour with speed and entering Valcaster itself.


    ~~~~


    A bted noon meal was prepared soon after the cortege reached the keep. The jarl was entreated to rte the tale of his escape from Middanhal as well as any other news from the capital. Valerian amodated his court to some extent, though he did not mention how he came to be warned of Isenharts treachery. While the jarl was thus upied entertaining his courtiers, his brother carried on a quieter conversation with his wife. How have affairs been in Valcaster? Konstans asked, cutting his meat into tiny pieces and eating them delicately.


    Little to remark on. Some trouble with the servants, but when is that not the case, Mathilde remarked casually. I managed to install a new handmaiden to Alexandra, who has proved very informative, she added, speaking more softly.


    Has Alexandra given you any trouble while we were away? her husband asked with a light frown.


    Not as such, Mathilde shrugged, spearing a carrot with her fork. She defers to me where it matters, and I let her decide when it is inconsequential. But she has taken a greater interest in the affairs of the jarldom.


    Probably at Valerians encouragement, I wager, Konstans considered.


    Perhaps not. The girl may be more ambitious than her looks imply, his wife replied.


    It grows to be of less importance. When this war is over, we shall rule Middanhal instead. Let my brothers wife entertain herself with Valcaster.


    Mathilde paused for a moment before she broached a new subject. What of our son?


    What of him, Konstans replied, taking careful sips of his diluted wine.


    How did he conduct himself in the capital? she asked.


    Passably, I suppose, Konstans said, sounding disinterested. I was rather upied. He did not make a fool of himself, I would have noticed that.


    He is twenty and your brothers heir, Mathilde said insistently while her hands tore a loaf of bread into edible pieces. Is it not time he was given responsibilities worthy of his position?


    This remark made Konstans slowly turn his head to look at his wife. You think Konstantine could have handled the intricacy of the Adalthing? Tell me true, has he ever disyed an aptitude for such?


    I am not arguing he should be given charge of everything, Mathilde retorted, but under your careful guidance he could be given a task on asion.


    I allow him to apany me and learn, Konstans pointed out, slightly absent-minded; his attention was caught by whispers between the jarl and the jarlinna. All the boy has to do is keep his eyes open.


    You will let him be present this afternoon? When your brother takes counsel? she asked.


    Yes, he might as well, Konstans agreed. He quickly turned to look at his wife again. Any reason for your insistence?


    As I said, Konstantine is growing up, Mathilde said. Some might doubt his worthiness as an heir because he is your son and not your brothers son. I want him to prove beyond doubt that he deserves to be the next jarl of Vale, she finished, ncing towards where the current jarl sat embroiled in conversation with his own wife.


    ~~~~


    After the meal, plenty of people desired the jarls time and attention; however, it was tacitly understood that there were more pressing matters. With war broken out, Valerians first priority was spoken for; a war council had to be held. In the keep at Valcaster, there was a room for this purpose. Konstans went there directly after telling his son to follow him; Valerian went to his private chambers first. In his study, he unlocked a drawer in his desk, opened it, and withdrew a small journal.


    Sitting down, he grabbed a quill and added small notes and numbers to a page, detailing various specifics and pieces of information from hisst journey. The hinges of the chamber door announced with a creak that somebody entered the room. Yes? the jarl asked without looking up from his book.


    Valerian? asked a female voice.


    Alexandra, he smiled and raised his head towards her.


    I am sorry to disturb you. I know you are meticulous about your records, she began to say.


    I am almost done, he assured her, returning to quickly scribble a few more entries. But I must leave in a moment.


    I shall be swift, she promised. I did not wish to enquire about this when others were near. But your message said nothing about my father, my sister, or my brother.


    Valerians face lost its trace of a smile. There was no time. They are trapped in Middanhal.


    I thought as much, Alexandra nodded. Unless you object, I will write to let my mother know and invite her to Valcaster to stay with us. Her steward can handle matters without her, I am sure.


    Whatever you think best, Valerian said distracted, finishing writing his book. Now I must take my leave. I promise you will have my full attention tonight.


    You always gave a fair bargain, Alexandra smiled. I think I will spend the afternoon practising my archery. The new range you have had installed is very agreeable to me.


    I am pleased to hear that, her husband replied, clearing his desk and locking his journal away.


    My practice suffers a bit from ack of a worthy opponent, however, she said with an innocent look. I have rather missed Valerie since you took her with you to the capital.


    And a mistake that was, Valerian grumbled lowly. She is confined to her chambers as punishment. She does not deserve a reprieve, he said sternly.


    It is not for her sake, Alexandra quickly spoke. I would merely have herpany because it is an aid to me. Valerian was walking through the room; as he reached the door where Alexandra stood, she ced a light hand on his arm. For my sake? Please?


    Valerian gave another grumble. If I were not pressed for time, I would probably think this through and dislike the notion, he spected loudly.


    But now? Alexandra probed with an endearing smile.


    If it will please you, Valerian said dismissively, and he was promptly rewarded with a kiss on the cheek.


    You are the best of husbands, his wife told him.


    And you are too cunning for your own good or mine, Valerian growled, but the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards and took the sting from his words. He quickly left the room, marching towards his council chamber.


    ~~~~


    Like any decent room for such purposes, the council chamber had arge map of the Seven Realms. Usually it was furled together and stored nearby, but for the asion, it had beenid out and ced on the table in the centre of the room. Arge handful of elegantly carved pieces resembling footmen and horsemen had been spread across the map in representation of armies.


    Konstans was upied moving pieces around, examining how it changed the situation and returning them to their original position. Nearby, Konstantine and Arion were watching in silence. The door opened to admit Valerian. The jarl nced around. I thought you would have summoned Alfonso here as well, Valerian wondered.


    Alfonso is a good thane, Konstans said without looking up from the map, and he is perhaps even a decent captain of your thanes. But at birth, all of his gifts were assigned to the use of his hand, not his head.


    This remark awoke faint amusement from the others. I suppose, Valerian muttered. But we are going to need moremanders than you and I, Brother.


    I am aware, Konstans nodded. If our margraves were not trapped in Middanhal, I would have suggested Lord Jaunis. He is rather motivated towards defending us.


    My father-inw is quite capable, yes, Valerian assented, but as you say, also unavable.


    Let us save that concern forter, Konstans suggested. It will be weeks before conscription is carried out and our soldiers assembled at any rate. First, we need to know our situation.


    How have youid out the map? Valerian asked.


    Isenhart holds Middanhal, Konstans began to exin, his fingers touring the map. Athelstan has one of their armies. About five thousand men, we are told, which means they have another five thousand men they can mobilise from Isarn itself. We should expect to face an invasion of up towards ten thousand.


    We can match those numbers, Valerian said gruffly. As long as we have time. What of the soldiers you have ced here? he asked, pointing at the centre of southern Adalrik.


    The provinces of the southernndgraves, Konstans exined. Some of them are also trapped in Middanhal, and we cannot expect theirnds or families to aid us. But I sent letters to all of their holdings when we reached Coldharbour a few days ago. I am waiting for their replies to see whom we may count on. It is my intention to make thends directly east of Vale hostile towards Isarn, forming an unbroken chain that protects our eastern border. A wall that their army must cross before they can invade us, thereby giving us time.


    But will they not simply invade from the northeast? Valerian questioned. They can march straight from Middanhal to Coldharbour unopposed and then south into our remainingnds.


    Athelstan destroyed the Order at Lake Myr, Konstans reminded him, tapping his finger at that location in the centre of southern Adalrik. It would be natural for him to march to Ingmond first.


    How so? Konstantine asked, breaking his silence.


    Jarl Ingmond is their prisoner, Valerian exined, his eyes absorbed by the map. Those are fertilends, rich in food that his army will need if Athelstan ns to besiege us.


    But it will cost him if he marches straight west against us, Konstans added, through hostilends. The only alternative is to return to Middanhal and march upon us from the northeast. Which should buy us time to finish mobilising our troops.


    What of Lord Marcaster? Valerian enquired. He is by far the strongestndgrave, and he protects our southern nk.


    In that regard, we are blessed by fortune and foresight, Konstans told his brother. I have already made an alliance with Marcaster, and his men are already mobilised. He promised he would bring up towards four thousand soldiers to our cause.


    His army is already gathered? Valerian spoke with a frown. How so? Did he have foreknowledge of Isarns treachery?


    Not quite, Konstans exined. When the prince was in, I knew some would me us. He was travelling to ournds, after all, as part of an arrangement we made. I feared that we might be the target of retribution. But how would it have looked if we had begun gathering our armies right after the princes death? he asked, suddenly looking at his son.


    It would have looked as if  Konstantine began to speak, caught unawares so that he had to start his sentence anew. We would have looked guilty.


    Konstans nodded. Or as if we nned to capitalise upon his demise. But no such suspicion would fall upon Marcaster.


    So you bade him leave Middanhal and gather his forces, Valerian said in realisation. Very clever, Brother.


    Konstans epted thepliment with a small nod and a smile. Now those forces can be used to keep Athelstan in check, hinder his progress and buy us further time.


    A cough came from Arion. I am very sorry to intrude, but this is where I must y the part as your chambein, milord, he said, swallowing. Which entails delivering messages arrived for you, including those bearing ill news.


    Well? What is it? Valerian asked impatiently.


    A very brief message from your reeve in Inghold. I had to piece a few things together to understand the full story, Arion exined hesitantly.


    Skip to the conclusion, Konstans said coldly.


    Apparently, Arion began to borate while wetting his lips, Lord Marcaster heard about Lake Myr and Sir Athelstans march into Ingmond. Presumably, he felt his own army was ready for battle, while Sir Athelstans forces were exhausted.


    No, Konstans hissed. No, do not say it is so.


    The armies met near the border between the provinces. It was a crushing victory for the Isarn forces. Lord Marcasters army is scattered or captured as is thendgrave himself, Arion finished.


    I told that fool! Konstans eximed. I told him not to engage Athelstan on his own. What was that simpleton thinking?


    My assumption would be that Lord Marcaster thought he might bring the war to a swift end, making himself into a hero, Arion pondered and received a furious look from Konstans.


    It was not a question to which I required an answer, thetter said with a clenched jaw.


    It was Marcasters soldiers, not ours, Valerian reminded his brother. Calm yourself. We ourselves have lost nothing.


    Athelstan is in Ingmond, Konstans retorted. From there, he can march unopposed through Marcastersnds and invade ours with his supply lines safely protected all the way from Inghold. In two weeks, Valcaster itself could be under siege! he burst out, raising his hands in frustration.


    Then we fight defensively, Valerian decided. As long as we control the river, we can reinforce the city endlessly. Meanwhile, any reinforcements for Isarn will have toe all the way beyond Middanhal. We will disrupt their supply lines, wear them down.


    Could we not cut them off entirely? Konstantine ventured to say, making every other man in the room turn to stare at him. Steeling himself, the youth walked over to the table and pointed at the capital. Half their forces are still being gathered in Isarn, right? We know they will have to pass through Middanhal to reach Athelstan.


    We cannot hope to take the city easily, Valerian argued. It would take months at the very least, and we would suffer catastrophic losses.


    We need not take the city, Konstans considered, sending his son an approving look. If we merely besiege it, we can keep Isarns army trapped inside it. Or force them to fight unfavourably if they attempt a sortie.


    But we would have to send most of our soldiers north to ensure that, Valerian protested. We would leave Vale itself all but unprotected.


    I think it has be clear that we should avoid meeting Athelstan on the battlefield, Konstans said grimly. Not unless we outnumber him many times over. We let him invade and exhaust his army on besieging our cities. Deny him any resources we can, the jarls brother continued. We keep our horsemen here as a mobile force and to conduct raids on Athelstan while we gather our infantry in Coldharbour and march them against Middanhal. Should Athelstan attempt something desperate, such as marching directly on Valcaster, we hold the advantage of speed. Our army can return to Coldharbour and sail to Valcaster within days.


    We shall require all the ships we can im, Valerian pondered. Arion, make sure every ship in my employ is gathered here in Valcaster. Every vessel already here that is not owned by me, send soldiers to confiscate it. We will need them all, he instructed his servant.


    At once, milord, Arion bowed his head and quickly left the room.


    It will still take time, Valerian warned his brother. Some of our crafts are as far away as Herbergja.


    That is how it must be, Konstans replied. This is the best use of our soldiers. We cannot risk them in the field against Athelstan until the time is right. If they cany siege to Middanhal meanwhile, they will starve Athelstan of reinforcements.


    We are taking a risk nheless, Valerian said quietly. We may hide in our cities, yes, but we give Athelstan control of everything beyond.


    Which is why our next step should be to hire mercenaries, Konstans argued. Send word to our reeve in Herbergja or even Alczar.


    What? Men with no honour? Valerian eximed indignantly.


    It is not their honour we pay for, but their swords, Konstans said dryly. The mercenaries can y the role that Marcasters forces should have. Hinder Athelstans progress, limit his options. Once our own armies are gathered, collectively, we will hold sufficient superiority of numbers.


    We will not be in much esteem if we win this war by such means, the jarl said with dislike in his voice.


    We will be in less esteem if we lose, his brother countered. What use is all your gold if it cannot bring us victory?


    I will consider it, Valerian said reluctantly. Could we not rely on the Order instead? They have an army or at least something akin to it in Hthiod still.


    Konstans shook his head. We must assume it is engaged with the ounders and unable to extricate itself. If they do return, I shall be happy to have been wrong. But we should make all our ns on the assumption that the Order will not participate in this war. At least not within foreseeable time.


    What of the army we send to Middanhal? Valerian asked. Someone must lead it.


    I suppose I shall do so, Konstans contemted. Unless a better alternative can be thought of.


    Another thing to consider, Valerian added. Now I am weary. Come, let us have some wine and sit in the arbour.


    Go without me, Konstans said, nodding for his son to follow the jarl. I have further deliberations to make. He grabbed the carved figurine that had represented Marcasters forces, strangling it in his grasp until his knuckles turned white.


    ~~~~


    The keep in Valcaster had arge courtyard as any such building would have; it yed home to the stables as well as an array of other constructions for different purposes. One of these was arge archery range; the jarl of Vale favoured archers as his guards for his vast collection of properties and had facilities for them to keep their skills sharp. This afternoon, the two people training archery were not wearing Vale livery, however, nor were they wearing dresses as they normally did but rather garments that allowed unrestricted movement. One was the jarlinna of Vale; the other was her stepdaughter. A servant boy was nearby, fetching their arrows once they finished a round of shooting.


    You have improved, Valeriemented as Alexandra ced herst arrow.


    I have had time to practice, the jarlinna mentioned, watching the other woman line up her shot.


    Unlike me, Valerie replied, narrowing her eyes slightly as she aimed. There was little time for such pursuits during our stay in the capital.


    You had time for disagreements with your father, I noticed, Alexandra said cautiously.


    With a whipping sound, the arrow left the bowstring andnded wide from the mark. A difference of opinion, Valerie said stiffly.


    I shall not pry, the jarlinna promised. Besides, your father has a short-lived temper. His displeasure will notst.


    I suppose not, the jarls daughter replied. Alexandra, you care about my father, right? How exactly does such affection work?


    Quite a question, Alexandra said with a surprised expression. I am not sure what you mean.


    I mean, Valerie began haltingly, how do we choose to have affections for somebody? Why?


    I do not know how conscious the choice is, Alexandra considered. Some people simply get easily along, I guess. Such as you and me.


    Indeed, Valerie smiled, pulling the bowstring back for her next shot and releasing it to better result.


    Your father was kind, Alexandra suddenly added. Valerian is a powerful man. He needs not exhibit kindness to those in lesser standing such as my own father. Yet he does. When I learned of your fathers intentions towards me, I thought that there must be some union between a mans actions and his character. That if your father did good, ultimately, he would have to be a good man. So I epted his offer.


    Not all would agree to such thinking, Valerie replied, shooting her third arrow. My aunt, for instance. Has she let you decide anything in the jarldom while we were in Middanhal?


    Oh, Mathilde is not so bad, Alexandra shrugged. She just has strong opinions. She likes to be useful, I suppose, so I let her deal with some matters.


    I wonder if she thinks the same way, Valerie said with a dry tone.


    In any case, I think very soon I will have other matters on my mind. Having somebody to lighten my burdens will be a blessing, Alexandra said coyly.


    Other matters? Valerie asked with a frown.


    I have not told your father yet, Alexandra leaned forward to a whisper. She nced at the servant boy, waiting for them to finish shooting. Go fetch the arrows, she told him. In any case, she continued to Valerie, I thought he should get this dreadful business of war meetings over first. I will tell him tonight, and he will probably make a formal announcement soon.


    Alexandra, are you saying what I think? Valerie asked.


    The jarlinna nodded eagerly. You are going to be a sister, Valerie, she eximed.


    Gods bless us! Valerie burst out. That is wonderful! You are certain?


    I spoke with a sibylst week, and she agrees with me. The signs are there. I cannot wait to see the look on your fathers face, Alexandra glowed.


    This is a good omen, Valerie smiled. The Seven and Eighth have blessed us, truly.


    I am d you think so, Alexandra said and bit her lower lip. I was worried about telling you. You have been your fathers only child for so many years.


    Nonsense! Valerie said strongly. Banish all such thoughts, she continued, sweeping Alexandra up in a tight embrace. Only happiness could ensue from your child being born. I am certain all in our house will agree.


    ~~~~


    After thest bell rung, the weary refugees from Middanhal could finally go to rest in their own home. Several wings in the keep were distributed among the members of the House of Vale, giving all of them spacious personal chambers. Mathilde, sister-inw to the jarl, had her own quarters as well, of course; however, as night fell, she did not move towards her own chamber but towards her husbands.


    She gave a soft knock and announced herself. When given admittance by Konstans servant, she found the jarls brother partly undressed in preparation for sleep. Thank you, I will help his lordship tonight, Mathilde told the servant, dismissing him. When he had gone, closing the door after him, Mathilde turned towards her husband.


    I did not expect to see you already tonight, he remarked casually as she stepped closer and helped him undress.


    I thought we could speak privately, she told him.


    And you intend a topic where it is best I am distracted? Konstans asked as his wife removed his shirt.


    You know me too well, she smiled. I hear that you are sending the army north?


    Not all our soldiers, Konstans replied. But those that can be ready within a few weeks. Enough to surround Middanhal from the south.


    Who will lead this army? Mathilde asked.


    Our list of ablemanders is short, unfortunately. I may have to do it myself, Konstans contemted.


    Is that wise? Depriving your brother of your counsel, leaving him alone to lead the war? Mathilde continued, letting her hands brush over her husbands bare chest.


    While I would prefer to stay, Konstans admitted, I doubt I can convince Valerian to leave here.


    A pretty, young wife will do that to a man, Mathilde said with a scoff.


    I do not know whom else to trust, Konstans continued.


    I have been told that it was Konstantines idea to besiege Middanhal, keep the sheepheads blocked in, Mathilde said in a casual tone.


    That could be argued. I presume it is no coincidence that you bring up his name? Konstans asked.


    He is your son. The jarls nephew and heir. Is it not time he assumes responsibility? Time that he is given a position equal to his standing, Mathilde said.


    You want Konstantine to lead the army north? Konstans asked with heavy doubt. The boy has no experience in military matters.


    Then this is an excellent opportunity for him to receive it, Mathilde countered.


    He will be responsible for thousands of our men, Konstans retorted with a sceptic voice. I am not certain this is where to start.


    The danger is not as great as it seems, Mathilde said soothingly, framing her husbands face with her hand. Athelstan is in the south. Konstantine does not have to lead the army into battle. Merely lead it, be seen as a son of Vale. Seeing the continued doubt on Konstans face, she quickly continued. It does not have to be for the duration of the war. If you feel the need, you can always go north yourself and rece him. But let him havemand for a while. Let him feel the weight of responsibility, let it mature him.


    I am not convinced, Konstans shook his head, and he turned away to grab a goblet of wine. The boy is hardly gifted in matters of politics either, and I am ying a difficult game in convincing the southernndgraves to support us. If he makes a misstep somehow, it could cost us.


    Send someone with him. Arion, for instance. He has a cool head on his shoulders and can advise Konstantine, yet he does not outrank him, Mathilde suggested, taking the goblet from her husband and turning his attention back towards her. Some of your brothers thanes will apany him as well. Choose a few that can handle the practical matters.


    I remain reluctant, Konstans said. It would be safer if Imanded the army myself.


    Of course it would be, Mathilde agreed, her voice growing soft again as her hands gently ran over his skin. Everything would be better if you could do everything. But you must relinquish the reins at some point. Konstantine will never grow if he is always living in your shadow. He must find his own footing somehow. That will never happen if he is always to tread in your footsteps. He will never find his own path.


    Konstans stood silent for a moment. I suppose it is a fathers duty to challenge his son. Not to mention he will be jarl one day. Best he stand prepared when that dayes.


    You are in agreement? Mathilde smiled.


    I will speak to Valerian, Konstans promised.


    That is all I ask, his wife imed as she trailed kisses over his jaw line and the conversation ended.

 Chapter 39: From Foe to Friend

    Chapter 39: From Foe to Friend


    From Foe to Friend


    Marcaster


    While the jarl of Vale and his family had returned home, their enemy was camped in the province of Marcaster near its eastern border of Ingmond. Despite their convincing victory against the forces under thendgrave of Marcaster, Athelstans army had not let discipline slip. Their camp was orderly with defences raised and sentinels everywhere. Scouts were dispatched across the area, extending the eyes of the Isarnmander for many miles. With the tents and earthworks raised, the soldiers were engaged in activities typical afterbat. Wounds were tended to, weapons and armour inspected and repaired, and rations were distributed.


    About half a mile away, the Isarn soldiers had many hundred men under strict watch. They were the remnant of Marcasters army, who had chosen surrender rather than flight. They sat on the ground, disarmed and dejected after their defeat. They were not bound, but fence posts had been erected and connected with rope to mark an enclosure inside which the prisoners were to remain. From the camp, two riders approached.


    I am told we have at least eight hundred men captive, Eumund said as he and his uncle approached the prisoners.


    Yes, I heard the same, Athelstan replied.


    We cannot afford to feed that many prisoners or drag them with us, Eumund said insistently; a moment after, they were close enough that they stopped their horses.


    I have no intentions of either, Athelstan dered and dismounted swiftly with his nephew following suit.


    So what will you do? Eumund asked.


    As the old saying goes, no wrath is greater than friend to foe turned, Athelstan remarked with an overbearing expression. Let us see how the reverse holds true. Soon after, they reached the enclosure and the prisoners.


    Men, Athelstan called out. The captives raised their heads towards his voice. I am Athelstan of Isarn. I imagine many of you have heard of me. Now you have also met me, themander said, removing his helmet and revealing his face fully. You fought bravely on the field of battle. Your defeat and your present circumstances are not your fault. However, I have no interest in prisoners, he called out, letting his gaze sweep over them, nor do I have food to spare. Hence, you are all free to leave.


    A mour broke out at these words, mostly consisting of sounds uttered in disbelief. What, really? somebody yelled out.


    Athelstan raised his hands tomand silence. My enemy was the lord of Marcaster, not its people. I have no quarrel with any of you now that he is my prisoner. I assume many of you have farms and fields ripe for harvest. If not tended to, there will be starvation in Marcaster. Since I have no enemies living in thesends, I have no desire to see famine strike its people.


    Youre really just going to let us go? somebody else shouted.


    Upon my honour, Athelstan swore. More than that, I will give you a choice, he added, once again letting his eyes search the crowd, resting momentarily upon the different men and instilling the feeling that he gazed directly at that person, spoke directly to that person. As I said, you fought with courage. You showed your loyalty. I onlyment that your lord could not reward such loyalty with victory.


    Athelstan paused briefly before continuing. You took up arms because Lord Marcastermanded you to. I now offer you the chance to wear the ck and red colours for much better reasons. Fight for me! the captain said fiercely, evoking further murmurs of incredulity. I am Athelstan of Isarn! You know my reputation. At Cairn Donn ten years ago, I led an army starved, outnumbered, and I turned certain defeat to victory. You have seen me live up to that reputation today.


    The mutterings and whispers continued among the prisoners, and Athelstan raised his voice once more to be heard. Isarn is known for another thing than its illustrious sons. Silver, he said, stressing the first sound and making it reverberate through the crowd. Any man that wears a surcoat with ck swords will earn eight silver a day, Athelstan dered, striking his fist against the emblem on his chest. Starting from tomorrow and until the end of this war as well as a full share in any plunder taken.


    The choice lies before you, Athelstan said again after he had let his words sink in. You may go west and return home. Or go east into camp and be equipped in red and ck. You have the remainder of the night to decide, he finished before he turned around and walked back to his horse, followed by Eumund.


    You are letting them go? Eumund said in a low voice. Is that wise?


    I doubt they will run to Jarl Vale and join his army, Athelstan said dismissively. They fought because Marcaster is their liege, and he is now in our custody. They will not fight us again.


    You do not think any of them will want revenge on us? Or their dislike of northerners will get the best of them, Eumund spected as he mounted his horse.


    I think most of them are peasants eager to return to their fields before the harvest spoils, Athelstan replied, getting into the saddle. Since we will need food if this campaign drags on, it is in our interest they return and see to those fields, he dered, twisting the reins of his horse around his fist and spurring the beast towards their camp.


    Do you truly think any of them will want to fight for us, though? Eumund wondered.


    Those who have no better prospects than eight silver a day will, Athelstan said confidently.


    And you think they will be more loyal to us than they were to Marcaster? Eumund asked sharply.


    Three things ensure a soldiers loyalty, Athelstan dered. If you put food in his stomach, silver in his purse, and certainty in his heart that hismander will bring him victory, he will never waver. When dawnes, our ranks will have swelled by hundreds of men, and they will fight better for us than they ever did for Marcaster.


    ~~~~


    Returned to his tent inside the camp, Athelstan sank down on a chair and let out a sigh. I will sleep well tonight, he dered as his sergeant removed his greaves and bracers. When that was done, Athelstan unbuckled his sword belt and bnced the scabbard against the armrest of his chair. Then he stretched his shoulders before grabbing a cup of wine, taking a hearty draught.


    Eumund sat opposite, having followed his uncle into thetters tent. Now he supplied himself with a cup as well, drinking more cautiously. How did Marcaster have an army ready so quickly? he asked. Even if somebody warned him right after we took Middanhal, there would barely have been time for a message to reach Marbury, let alone for Marcaster to muster his men and march against us.


    I do not know, Athelstan admitted, putting goblet to lips again. The only exnation would be that he had his armies gathered beforehand. For what purpose I cannot say, he spoke when he had drunk his wine. Perhaps he had same intentions as us, and we simply proved swifter.


    Possibly, Eumund said slowly. I do not like it, though. If he was prepared, what of Vale? He has more men than us. If they are all gathered and prepared, waiting for us, we will be severely outnumbered, he argued.


    I have told you before that numbers do not dictate battles, Athelstan said sharply. It is toote to lose heart. We have started this war, and we must finish it.


    My resolve remains unshaken, Eumund dered, emptying his cup. I merely wonder what lies ahead of us. That we are not walking blindly into danger.


    If they are ready for us, we shall meet them on the battlefield and triumph as we did today, Athelstan replied. Though I doubt they will be ready for us. Word would have reached us from Valcaster if the jarl was gathering his armies.


    My father gathered his armies in preparation for taking Middanhal, and none were wiser to it, Eumund countered. If our enemies were thus surprised, should we not consider that we may be struck by the same blindness?


    Did you not tell me that Vale and his entire family fled Middanhal before you struck? Athelstan retorted. I saw Theodstan myself at the camp in Lake Myr. Our actions clearly did not maintain the secrecy you would hope. Our enemy has his spies, as do we. They were warned of our actions, just as we will be should an army await us when we reach Vale.


    If you are certain then, Uncle, what is our next step? Eumund asked.


    With Marcaster as our prisoner, the way west is open. We can march unhindered through the province and invade Vale within days. We aim straight for Valcaster, Athelstan said, raising a finger to entuate his point. The other cities are of no consequence. If we control the area around Valcaster, we will control the enemy. We keep him from gathering his forces, deal with them separately, and crush each of his armies.


    How do you n on taking the city? We will not be able to enclose it from the riverside, nor do we have the ships to put in a blockade.


    I am aware, Athelstan nodded. I have in fact often pondered the question of besieging Valcaster in my exile. As a mental exercise to keep my wits sharp, he added with a smile. While we cannot take to the river ourselves, my thought is to use archers and fire arrows. Torch any ships that approach the city.


    The river is wide, Eumund argued. No archer will be able to shoot an arrow across. If we are on the south-eastern bank, the ships can hold to the north-western and stay out of range.


    We may need to procure what smaller vessels we can get and send some of our men to take the western bank, Athelstan agreed. If we get there first and enforce our blockade of the river, we will prevent them from crossing the river as well. Control both banks and it will effectively be a siege, he imed.


    And if they cross the river up north, such as Coldharbour? Eumund questioned. Our reach will not be that far. They can sweep down, crush our men caught on the wrong side of the waters.


    Scouts will have to be in ce to prevent that, Athelstan nodded, and we may have to alter our ns. But with a forced march, we will arrive before they can concentrate their forces. Once your father has mustered our remaining forces, he can march them towards Coldharbour. We will have destroyed Vales ability to wage war before he ever began to threaten us.


    ~~~~


    The day after the battle, the Isarn army began its march southwest through thends of Marcaster. With scouts and mounted vanguard sent ahead, the main body of the army moved in long columns with themanders in front, and the rearguard protected the baggage train. It was also not only Athelstan and Eumund who headed the centre part of this procession. They had their two valuable prisoners ride alongside them. One was the jarl of Ingmond, brought along all the way from Middanhal since Isenharts feast, where he had been forced to surrender himself and his family. The other was newer to his condition; it was thendgrave of Marcaster, taken captive after losing the battle against the Isarn army.


    You are quiet today, Jarl Ingmond, Eumund said with a light-hearted tone. It was only a few days ago that you spoke without end of our imminent defeat. Your heart would warm, Lord Marcaster, the young knight added as he turned his head to look at Marcaster riding behind him, if you had heard the confidence Jarl Ingmond had in your ability to defeat us.


    Marcaster gave no reply, but Ingmond rose to the bait. You confuse winning a battle with winning the war. The South and the Order have enough soldiers each to lose a hundred battles, and still you will find armies battering down the gates of Silfrisarn, the jarl said hotly.


    There it is, Eumund smiled. I missed your conversation, my lord. These little outbursts do much to shorten the tedium of travel.


    Must I remain in your close proximity? Ingmond eximed. I would rather walk with the train, surrounded by the lowliest servants than be further subjected to yourpany.


    You are our guest, Eumund said, we could never agree to such a thing. A man of your standing must be treated with respect.


    I am your prisoner, Ingmond spat, and I care little for any respect you would show me.


    Perhaps not our guest by choice, Eumund admitted in a casual tone, but rules of hospitality still apply.


    You could treat me however you wish, and I would be indifferent, Ingmond imed. My only concern is for my wife and child that you forced me to leave behind with your butchers.


    We are not savages, Athelstan interjected, breaking his silence. We have neither reason nor intention to harm your family.


    Sir Roderic was your prisoner, Ingmond countered in response. That did not save him from muttion or decapitation.


    I do not condone what happened to Sir Roderic, Athelstan said stiffly.


    Nor did you prevent it, Ingmond said with bite in his words. What guarantee do I have that my family is safe?


    We kept our agreement in Inghold, did we not? Eumund said forcefully. The city surrendered, we were given what supplies we needed, and not a single person in your jarldom has been harmed.


    It is not for the people in Inghold I am concerned, Ingmond said acerbically, but my wife and son in Middanhal. At the mercy of your father, the mad dog.


    At this insult, fury woke in Eumunds eyes and he raised his hand to strike at the jarl. Restrain yourself, Eumund! Athelstan eximed. We do not strike unarmed prisoners. We are not honourless viins, he imprinted on his nephew, who lowered his hand again. His words brought a bitterugh from the jarl, however.


    You have broken your vows, Athelstan, Ingmond sneered. You havemitted treason many times over. I am to believe you are a man of honour? A notion worthy only of disdain, he said contemptuously.


    Your words will not infuriate me, Athelstan said coolly. But you will answer for them one day. When my brother rules this realm, your position as jarl will be brought to question. I suggest you follow Lord Marcasters example and remain silent, he told the jarl. Eumund, ride ahead to the vanguard. Tell them to begin scouting for a suitable location to camp, he ordered his nephew, who gestured for a dozen riders to follow him as he rode away to carry out Athelstansmand.


    ~~~~


    In the southern part of the province of Marcaster, near the border to Korndale,y its regional capital of Marbury. Ity on a t in, surrounded by the lush fields that characterised southern Adalrik and its neighbour of Korndale. This also made the city much less defensible. The river that provided the city with water had not been incorporated into its defences, which meant that the terrain provided no natural aid; Marbury was thus vulnerable from all sides with only its city walls to protect it. Half a mile to the north, the Isarn army stood arrayed. Its ranks had been bolstered by recruits from the provinces of Marcaster and Ingmond, men more interested in silver than politics, and it counted above five thousand. At the front were itsmanders, Athelstan and Eumund. They had brought only one of their two prominent prisoners with them on this asion.


    Your city looks beautiful, Lord Marcaster, Athelstan remarked.


    I look forward to watching your men die before its walls, was Marcasters only response.


    That is not my intention, though, Athelstan retorted. In fact, I nned that we will both ride down to its gates, and then you will order the city to surrender.


    Marcaster barked a briefugh. Why would I ever do that?


    Because if you do not, I will have you killed right now, Athelstan said casually before he turned to look at his prisoner.


    You would not dare, Marcaster said disdainfully, although a nervous expression flittered momentarily across his face.


    I imagine Sir Roderic thought simrly, Eumund inserted.


    That was your brother, Marcaster argued, almost shouting. I thought you were better. I am your captive, I am a lord, you cannot mistreat me!


    It will bring me no pleasure to do so, Athelstan admitted with a soft voice. But I need your city to control this province and as a staging point for our invasion of Vale. And I am prepared to seize whatever means I must to gain it.


    You break all honour! Marcaster burst out, sounding furious, but the anger dissipated from his voice almost instantly. You will be despised for this, he added weakly.


    Most likely I already am, Athelstan admitted casually. If threatening your life will spare the lives of my soldiers, I consider that a good bargain.


    You bluff, Marcaster said with narrowed eyes. Even if I refuse, you will not go through with this.


    Unfortunately, more is at stake than merely you, Lord Marcaster, Athelstan spoke slowly. You see, if Jarl Ingmond or any other noblemen in Middanhal is made aware that you refused our demands, they will soon refuse as well. If you do not acquiesce, I will be forced to have you executed on principle alone, the knight said apologetically.


    You would not dare, Marcaster said, though his voice held little conviction.


    If I am forced to storm that city, Athelstan added with an edge to his words, it will be sacked. I will not guarantee the lives of your family. However, he continued in a lighter voice, if it surrenders, not a single copper will be looted. We will take what supplies we need. Only food, nothing else. Not one drop of blood shall be shed. You have my word.


    Your word, Marcaster said bitterly. What worth does the word of an honourless man hold?


    I may not have given that impression, Athelstan countered, but I would like to preserve what remains of my honour. You need not be my enemy, Lord Marcaster. I have no reason to cause you or your family ill. I will leave a garrison behind with strict orders not to cause the slightest offence to your people. They will hardly notice the war.


    Doubt moved across Marcasters face. You will not harm my children? My wife?


    Athelstan shook his head. If the city surrenders, it will be spared in full. I swear by the Seven and Eighth.


    Marcaster swallowed before he slowly spoke. Agreed then.


    Very well, Athelstan smiled. Let us ride down and bring the good news to the people of Marbury. With those words, themander of Isarn spurred his horse forward; he was followed by his nephew, his prisoner, and the vanguard of his army as they rode towards the gate of the city.

 Chapter 40: The Seat of Power

    Chapter 40: The Seat of Power


    The Seat of Power


    Silfrisarn


    While his enemies in Valcaster were preparing their countermove and his brother was leading his armies to victory, Isenhart was journeying north. At first, his mood had been dark; his expectations had been that by now, the Adalthing would have bowed before him and the throne be his to ascend. His frustrations were eased, however, when a messenger caught up to them on the roads between Middanhal and Isarn, bearing tidings of the battle at Lake Myr. With the knowledge that the Order army had been destroyed, one obstacle had been removed in Isenharts path towards the Dragon Crown. Athelstan was moving to invade Vale, but he would still need any avable reinforcements. For this purpose, Isenhart had returned to his jarldom and its capital of Silfrisarn, the ancient stronghold of the jarls of Isarn.


    Thirdrgest in Adalrik, Silfrisarn wasmonly known as the City of Silver. The meaning of the name had changed as the city did; it was quite possibly the oldest settlement of Men in what constituted Adalrik, and thus it had a long and eventful history. Its origin was lost to time, being older than the realm in which ity. In some distant past,rge quantities of iron ore had been discovered; an inexhaustible source that was said to have supplied the northerners with their weapons as far back as the Great War.


    Back then, Silfrisarn had been a mining town and nothing more. One day, some unknown person had struck silver in the same region of the Weolcan Mountains, forever changing its history. The exact events are uncertain, but it was general belief that this discovery of silver ore led to the first war between Adalrik and Vidrevi, founding a longsting rivalry.


    Regardless of how it began, the oue was known; Adalrik imed lordship over the entire region and shaped it into the jarldom of Isarn. For many centuries and until trade through Ealond and Thusund became more profitable, Isarn was the most important province to the kings of Adalrik.


    The events of the centuries were reflected in Silfrisarn. Gradually, the miners had been relocated further south near the mountains, now living in shantytowns. Merchants and craftsmen were attracted in great numbers, further enriching the city and beautifying it as well. The moniker the City of Silver, once denoting Silfrisarn as the centre of silver mining, eventually came to signify its rich pces and estates. In keeping with its roots, iron and silver were oftenbined in adorning the city; in many ces, iron statues with silver ornaments were erected, typically depicting the jarls of Isarn. Unlike the jarldoms of Vale and Ingmond, where new houses had been installed over the centuries, such had never happened in Isarn; the descendants of the first jarl of Isarn still ruled in the shape of Isenhart.


    Situated in hilly terrain, Silfrisarny elevatedpared to its surroundings. Thus to approach it, one had to ride upwards, and the guards could espy travellers from afar. With their banners unfurled in the wind, the jarls retinue identified itself as such, and the gate was wide open and clear by the time they reached it; with the well-earned ekename Ironfist, the jarl had among other things taught his subjects to always ensure his passage went smoothly.


    Entering the city through the south gate, Isenhart and his procession swiftly rode through the city and its various quarters. The poorest part was the one they first entered; it was where the miners had once dwelled before they were gradually pushed out of the city. Slowly, the buildings grewrger and more expensive, though none ever reached a size to rival the castle of the jarls. The fortressy embedded into the northern walls and towered over any other building in the city; even the local temple for Rihimil was dwarfed inparison.


    A horn had sounded from the gate as the jarl reached it; alerted this way, the castle knew to wee him. Servants and stable boys stood ready to take the reins of his and his thanes horses as well as offering goblets of wine; the jarl dismounted in one fluid movement and grabbed the nearest cup, emptying it quickly. By his side, his cousin Athelbold did likewise. Along with Athelstan, he was Isenharts foremost counsellor andmander. Good to be home, Athelbold said to the jarl. Isenhart grunted a noise that could be interpreted as agreement and walked inside, followed by his retinue.


    The members of the House of Isarn were waiting in the entrance hall to greet their lord and wee him home. Male and female cousins of various degrees and their children, mostly; Isenharts closest male rtives were all south except for Athelbold and thetters son, Athelgar, who had alsoe to greet the jarl. Ahead of the rest stood a woman whose dress had silver threads, her fingers wore rings, and a ne with a heavy pendant adorned her chest.


    We bid you wee home, my lord, she said. And you, kinsman, she added to Athelbold.


    Ha, Isenhart greeted her along with a curt nod.


    Mydy jarlinna, Athelbold said courteously, inclining his head. Son, he continued with a look towards Athelgar. The youth stood like the others, but he distinguished himself by the thin scars around his nose; it was still in the process of healing after Ulfrik had broken it at Isenhartsmand, shortly before solstice.


    I am famished. Bring food to the table, Isenhartmanded. His steward, standing nearby, sped away to carry out the order. The members of House Isarn scattered before the jarl as he walked forward without consideration, walking through his castle until he reached its great hall.


    ~~~~


    It took a while until a hot meal could be readied; until then, the servants plied their master with ale, bread, and pastries. The great hall in the keep of Silfrisarn had only one giant table, its nks hewn from the massive trees of neighbouring Vidrevi. At one end, sitting in a chair sorge it almost constituted a throne, was the jarls seat. It was padded with the skin of a bear,id in such a way that the open jaws and dead eyes were ced just above the head of the upant. It was customary that when the jarl of Isarn died, he would be buried in this skin; once the sjaund or wake had been held, his heir was then supposed to venture into the forests and kill a bear whose pelt could next adorn the seat. Only then would he be epted as the new jarl. The current bearskin was nearly thirty years old; Isenharts father had died on a hunt, leaving his son to be jarl at a young age.


    By the jarls right side sat the jarlinna. The left hand was usually reserved for his heir; in the heirs absence, other children or close male rtives. With Isenharts sons and brother away, however, the ce was taken by Athelbold, his cousin. The seat by Athelbolds left hand was empty; next to it sat his own son, Athelgar, and then came the rest of the jarls kinsmen in descending importance.


    A woman entered the hall, dressed as a member of the household. She coughed a few times, trying to keep it discreet before she took the seat between Athelbold and Athelgar with a nervous nce towards Isenhart; he seemed preupied and did not appear to notice her arrival or presence.


    While the jarl ate alone, the rest remained silent, looking down, exchanging nces, or watching their lord. Finally, a full meal was brought to the table, and once Isenharts te had been filled, the others could begin to eat as well. With this distraction, thest arrival spoke in a hushed tone. Wee home, husband, she said quietly to Athelbold and nted a kiss on his cheek.


    Good to be home, he muttered lowly before sending her an inspecting look. Anhild, are you still not well?


    Just a persistent cough, she said reassuringly, patting Athelbolds hand.


    They did not have a chance to continue their exchange; with the worst of his hunger satiated, Isenhart gestured for his steward to approach him. Did you receive my message? he asked loudly before stuffing meat pie into his mouth.


    Yes, milord, the steward said anxiously. A muster has been called among all those who owe you fealty.


    How long? Isenhart asked, flushing down his food with ale.


    Some three weeks, milord.


    Good. I will depart to the other northern regions meanwhile. Make the arrangements. Thendgraves have promised me support, but best I keep them in line personally. Or what say you, Athelbold? Isenhart asked with coarseughter.


    Grenwold is a weasel of a man, Athelbold remarked gruffly. But with his children in our hands, I expect he will behave. We have still not heard word from Normark. Deorcliff, Farbjarg, and Hrossfeld are more reliable.


    I will visit Normark first, Isenhart growled. Emptying his cup, the jarls eyes fell on Athelgar and his damaged face. How is your nose, young cousin? Isenhart asked, his mouth curling to an expression of contempt.


    Healing, the youth said surly, which earned him a disapproving look from the jarlinna. Did I hear correctly, my lord, you are leaving us again so soon?


    To keep thendgraves in check, Isenhart said idly. Why, do you wish to join me? he asked with narrowed eyes.


    No thank you, my lord. Such holds little interest for me, Athelgar replied.


    Is that so, Isenhart said, his voice turning sharp. You better pray that motivation finds you when we march south to finish Vale for good. Your tune might change once that happens. He finished another cup of ale, which was immediately refilled by a nearby servant. That reminds me, Isenhart continued. Send a letter to my son in Middanhal, he told the steward. Tell Isenwald when he may expect our arrival and what numbers we bring. I want all preparations for assaulting the Citadel to be in ce before we arrive.


    Yes, milord, the steward bowed.


    Isenhart grabbed his full cup, emptied it, and tossed it aside. I am settled, he dered in his loud voice, rising to stand. Immediately there was a sound of chairs and benches scuffling as everyone hastened to rise. Tell my weapons master to meet me by the armoury. I want to inspect our stores of Nordsteel weaponry.


    Yes, milord, the steward replied, bowing once again and frantically gesturing to the nearest servant toply. Once the jarl had left the hall, his remaining rtives sat down again and resumed their meal. Chatter erupted along the table and soon the atmosphere turned amiable; Athelbolds young children left their seats and surrounded him, greeting their father with embraces and making his exterior crack. Some of them were eventually caught by their oldest brother, who squeezed them until theyughed and begged for mercy; Athelgar soon regretted this though, as they retaliated by trying to reach his broken nose, which made his mother fuss and rebuke their behaviour. The jarlinna, seated opposite, curled her lips upwards at this disy and gave her first smile since the return of her husband.


    ~~~~


    The following day, Isenhart and his thanes prepared to leave for Normark. The jarlinna watched from a window on one of the upper floors. She was a woman in her early forties, though the life of a noblewoman had ensured that the years had not left much trace on her.


    Mydy, a voice spoke softly, startling Ha. She turned around quickly and visibly rxed as she saw who it was.


    Athelgar, she smiled at the youth. You should be more careful, she continued, turning back to nce at her husband below through the window. You must not provoke him so.


    He needs to think I am a sullen, empty-headed boy, Athelgar replied dismissively. So far it is working perfectly. I had to make him annoyed at me, lest he might demand I join him and my father visiting thendgraves, he said and moved to the windowsill, his body turned towards her.


    It does not seem worth it, Ha argued, moving one hand up to tenderly touch Athelgars wounded face.


    But it is, Athelgar imed. I knew that causing trouble in Middanhal would make him send me away. I also knew that it would not be my only punishment. He shivered slightly at her touch upon his healing wound, but he did not recoil. She shifted to ce her hand against his cheek instead. These months is the only time we can be sure that he is away, Athelgar continued. I had to find some way to return to you while he was gone.


    If you had be hurt for your own sake, Ha replied, I might have epted that as your choice. But I feel ill knowing that he brutalised you for my sake.


    This? Athelgar said nonchntly, gesturing towards his broken nose though careful not toe too close. I have had worse. This is not the first nor thest time I will receive a punch.


    That is what I fear, the jarlinna said quietly, though her voice had an insistent tone. One day it will go further. Or he will learn the truth about us. In his rage, there is no telling what he might do.


    Then we should not let our fear poison the moment, Athelgar argued. We suffer enough when he is present. Shall we now also cower in his absence? He will be gone for weeks now. When he finally returns to lead his army south, I must go as well. The gods seem to grant us short time only. I say we enjoy it to the fullest, he told her with a smile. The jarlinna did not answer in words but simply returned his smile and nodded slightly.


    ~~~~


    In the end, Isenhart was gone about two weeks. After Normark, the jarl returned to Silfrisarn for one night only before he left to pay the other northernndgraves a visit. Out of a number of six, four of them had pledged to his cause so far, either because they were prepared to follow him as their king or because they had family as hostages in Middanhal. Isenhart cared little for the reason as long as they mustered their soldiers and sent them to Silfrisarn. Only when he was satisfied did he return to his city.


    The muster was not yetplete when Isenhart was once more in his capital, taking his seat at the end of the table in the great hall. Conversation during the evening meal was quiet and mostly revolved around the jarl being reminded by Athelbold of various details from theirtest journey.


    My lord jarl, Athelgar began to ask. With time to spare, will you be taking your journey to the mines as custom this summer?


    Do not remind me, Isenhart replied. I have a war to n. I cannot be distracted by such petty affairs.


    Perhaps, Athelbold interjected, I could relieve you of this burden. You have no need of me here until the army is assembled. Let me go to Iston in your ce, he suggested.


    But Father, Athelgar objected, it is the duty of the jarl of Isarn to pass verdict upon the criminals. Surely the judgement of any lesser man will not suffice.


    You doubt my wisdom, boy? Athelbold asked sharply.


    I only wish to see matters done appropriately, the young man smiled sardonically.


    In that case, you should be silent when your elders speak and trust their judgement above your own, his father reprimanded him.


    Quiet, Isenhart intervened. You bicker like women. I have no interest in this. Athelbold, you will go. Handle this for me, the jarlmanded.


    Athelbold inclined his head. As you wish, my lord, he spoke, sending his son a sharp look of warning. Athelgar remained silent.


    ~~~~


    Iston was a mining town at the southern edge of the jarldom of Isarn where it met the Weolcan Mountains. It had originally been a small outpost through which iron ore had been transported. The wars between Adalrik and Vidrevi had once threatened to depopte it; in the years following the victories of Adalrik, the area had be stabilised. Furthermore, as the miners gradually lost the hospitality of Silfrisarn, Iston had be their new home. Despite the wealth of the region, this was not reflected here, since all riches were sent north or east. Instead, Iston was considered a poor town, dirty and uncouth. To smelt the extracted ore,rge furnaces burned through the day, fuelled by coal from Thusund. With most of the inhabitants employed in this industry, it was typical to see their faces, hands, and arms ckened by dirt and smoke. This had given rise to the disdainful ekename swartlings denominating a person from Isarn.


    Only a few houses in Iston showed any signs of wealth or luxury. The primary one belonged to the magistrate. His position was unique in Adalrik as an adopted idea originally from Ealond. Typically, a vige would be ruled by its council of elders, towns by their local guilds and alderman, and cities by the local lord. Iston had no guild, however, since barely any craftsmen resided in the town save the bare necessities. It was toorge for a council of elders, but rather than ce the area under a vassal such as their margraves, the jarls of Isarn had chosen to remain in direct control of the town. The question of maintaining rule had been solved by establishing the position of a magistrate; he was a deputy with the powers of the jarl in day-to-day matters yet without being a nobleman or having influence otherwise.


    This limitation held one practical importance; the magistrate might only pass sentence in criminal matters to a certain degree, such as petty thefts and minor brawls, but not instances where serious harm had been inflicted towards either a persons life and health or their wealth. This also meant that whenwbreakers were sent to Iston to serve in the mines as their punishment, the magistrate did not hold authority to measure out the exact number of years they were to be punished; only the jarl or one of close rank equipped with the jarls authority, such as his cousin, might do so. Typically the jarl of Isarn were to visit Iston once a year to see this done, but the current jarl had little interest in this; it was not the first time that Athelbold was sent to take his ce. Thus one rainy evening, Athelbold arrived at the magistrates office and was shown quarters and hospitality; the next day, he took seat in the town square to sit in judgement.


    The habit of sending criminals to the mines was rtively new in Adalrik, a custom adopted from Hthiod and its salt mines, albeit with certain changes andplications. In Hthiod, the salt mines were used regardless of offencemitted, and sometimes even regardless of rank; it was a useful way to remove troublemakers without causing the bacsh that execution sometimes elicited.


    In Adalrik, only two types of punishment existed originally. All crimes carried a geld, a tax to pay aspensation. Regardless of whether one had stolen an apple or killed a man, every action had a price attached to it, half of which was paid to the Crown and the other half paid to the victim or their family. For harsher offences such as murder, the culprit would typically suffer exile as well; the protection of thew was withdrawn from them, and any man might freely kill the exiled criminal without retribution.


    However, not all offenders were able to pay the geld incurred for their crimes; others deliberately chose the mines over exile. Whatever the cause, any criminal unable or unwilling to pay his geld was sent to Iston instead. The jarldom of Isarn paid the geld for them, and in return, the debtor would work the mines a number of years. The exact number depended on their geld  and the jarl, since it was ultimately for him to decide how many years a man should toil until his debt was repaid. It was to make this judgement that Athelbold now sat in the town square with the magistrate by his one hand and a scribe by the other.


    Next, the magistratemanded.


    Giselhard from Cragstan, the scribe called out, and the prisoner was brought forth by a pair of guards to stand scowling. For the crime of murder during a dispute, the clerk read aloud. A weregeld of nine hundred silver eagles is owed.


    What was the dispute? Athelbold asked. When the prisoner did not reply immediately, Athelbold repeated his question, and one of the guards pped Giselhard on the back of his head.


    He offended me, the murderer said with a disinterested voice.


    One of the guards pped him again. Address his lordship properly!


    Milord, Giselhard jeered.


    Nine years, Athelbold said curtly.


    What! Thats three times more than my geld is worth, Giselhard protested. One of the guards knocked the blunt end of his spear into the prisoners back, and he fell forward.


    Next, the magistrate spoke, and the murderer was removed from the square.


    Wif of Bjarburg, the scribe read, and the aforementioned was brought forward. For the crime of theft from his lord. A geld of three hundred silver is owed.


    He is a beorn? Athelbold asked of the scribe, who nodded.


    Yes, thetter confirmed.


    What did you steal? Athelbold questioned the prisoner.


    Jewellery, Wif muttered.


    Speak up, a guardmanded with a push.


    Why? Athelbold demanded to know.


    What do you care? Wif sneered.


    Answer! a soldier growled with another push.


    Tired of having nothing, Wif mumbled with a defiant re.


    Athelbold frowned for a moment. Two years, he decided, and the prisoner was led away.


    Next.


    Sindbert from Ashton, the scribe read in his monotonous voice. For the crime of theft from a merchant. A geld of fifty silver.


    You could not pay a geld of fifty silver? Athelbold asked with a raised eyebrow.


    No, milord, Sindbert admitted.


    What did you steal? the nobleman asked.


    Two loaves of bread, came the answer.


    Athelbold considered for a moment. Three months.


    Milord, the magistrate eximed. That is  He was silenced by a look from Athelbold as thetter merely turned his head towards the magistrate. Next, the official said meekly.


    Radwin from Oakfirth, the scribe called out. For the crime of causing serious injury without cause. A geld of three hundred silver.


    Athelbold measured the prisoner with his gaze, arge fellow with a vicious look to him. Five years. Upon hearing this, the newly minted miner for the next five years gave a hollowughter as he was led away.


    Erlemund from Middanhal, the scribe said. Murder most foul without cause. A geld of eighteen hundred silver.


    You killed a nobleman? Athelbold asked with raised eyebrows. The man before him was slender and had neither the build nor the posture of a warrior or one at all ustomed to fighting. Rather he looked like a craftsman of some delicate art such as tailoring. He wore ragged clothes and had theyers of dirt that inevitably clung to those working daily in the mines.


    A thane to Lord Linstead, milord, Erlemund said tonelessly.


    How? Athelbold asked, curiosity taking shape on his face.


    On Laugday, Erlemund said, weariness creeping into his voice. When he was in his bath. Snuck in and stabbed him.


    Why? Athelbold enquired.


    He desecrated my wife.


    If that were true, he would stand before me, not you, Athelbold argued, leaning back.


    My wifes testimony was not sufficient evidencepared to Lord Linstead, who swore that his thane was with him at the time, Erlemund spoke, his voice now cracking slightly.


    By the looks of you, Athelbold said contemtively, you have already been working the mines.


    Yes, milord, Erlemund answered. I arrived more than two years ago and was put to work immediately, waiting until I could receive my final judgement from you, milord.


    What was your profession in Middanhal? Athelbold asked next.


    A glove maker, milord.


    Milord, the magistrate said a little anxiously, there are many others awaiting judgement. Might we  A raised hand from Athelbold was enough to make him cut his sentence short.


    Do you have children? Athelbold enquired.


    Two sons, milord, and one daughter. The eldest was my apprentice. Very good too, should his lordship ever need gloves, Erlemund said with a dead smile.


    Athelbold stroke his beard, still leant back in his seat. Erlemund from Middanhal, your sentence will be two years.


    But milord, the magistrate protested, it is custom for eighteen years at the very least to repay such a geld, and easily twice that!


    If you question my judgement again, Athelbold said in a dangerously affable voice, I will pass my next sentence on you.


    The magistrate swallowed. Yes, milord. Take him away, he ordered the guards.


    Did you mishear me? Athelbold said sharply. Or was I unclear? Did I not say two years?


    Of course, milord, the magistrate bowed as deeply as he could. I thought you wanted to proceed.


    First we must resolve this matter in full, Athelbold said as if exining something simple. This man has been here two years already, has he not? His geld has been paid.


    Milord? Erlemund said, his voice breaking and his face showing bewilderment.


    Strike his chains, Athelboldmanded the guards. This man is free to leave.


    The soldiers were momentarily confounded and exchanged looks; it seemed a development they had never experienced before. Finally, they figured out where the keys to the chains were and unlocked them. Confusion flowed like waves through the crowd as they watched the former prisoner released; nobody was more mystified than Erlemund, however, as he made his way out of the square, unhindered and with constant nces towards the guards.


    Next, Athelbold said mildly.


    ~~~~


    It took the rest of the day and all of the following to finish the sentencing. When Athelbold was done, it was evening and toote to travel; thus, he retired to the magistrates house to spend a final night there. Before he reached his room, however, his host caught up to him.


    Milord, may I speak with you? the magistrate said.


    Be swift. I am tired, Athelbold replied.


    Of course, milord, the official answered with a bow. You are aware that the jarl pays the geld of those sent to Iston, of course, he said haltingly.


    Since you know I am aware, why bother mention it? Athelbold said brusquely.


    Forgive me, milord, it was merely meant to broach the topic. See, I am responsible for ensuring that operations go well here and that the jarl is ensured a profit. When a prisoner has cost the jarl eighteen hundred silver in geld, and he only works here for two years, the magistrate said with a tad of anxiety, it is costly for the jarl.


    I think my cousin will survive losing money on one worker, Athelbold remarked casually.


    It is not only him, the magistrate urged. Others of your decisions thesest days will be costly. I will be forced to mention it in my report. Unless of course your lordship reconsiders.


    Athelboldughed. You think the jarl reads your reports? You think he cares one whit for the intricacies of your administration?


    Milord, the magistrate eximed aghast. I would think the jarl would be interested in the difference between a handful of gold crowns or hundreds.


    Hundreds, Athelbold said derisively. Do not exaggerate the impact of my presence. Now consider this. If the jarl is made aware that less gold is earned on his mines, do you think he will care for your excuses? You are the one he ced in charge of this town, after all. I know my cousin well, Athelbold continued with a wolfs smile. He has little patience in general and least of all for listening to his servants pleading excuses. Goodnight, magistrate.


    ~~~~


    It took Athelbold a few days to make the return trip to Silfrisarn. Upon the approach to the city, he found the outskirts were no longer empty fields but lined with tents and soldiers hurrying about. As he rode into the courtyard of the keep, he was greeted by Athelgar. Hallo, Father, the young man said.


    My son, Athelbold replied as he dismounted. I see the army is gathered.


    Just in time too, Athelgar said. I would not seek out our cousin if I were you. He is in a bad mood.


    What happened? Athelbold asked with a frown.


    One of our patrols was ambushed between here and Middanhal. Only one man escaped to bring word, but it happened at night and he could tell us nothing. Not even who the attackers were. Coward fled immediately, Athelgar rted with a disdainful voice. We have sent scouts, but none have returned yet.


    It is many days ride to the capital, Athelbold pointed out. We cannot expect to hear back so soon.


    Regardless, Athelgar continued, our kinsman is eager to ride out. To put it mildly. Within the hour if possible.


    Athelbold patted the mane of his horse and nced around. Take care of my horse, hemanded the nearest stable hand, and have a fresh horse saddled for me. It would seem that Middanhal awaits us.

 Chapter 41: The Will That Moves

    Chapter 41: The Will That Moves


    The Will That Moves


    Eastern Weolcan Mountains


    In the aftermath of the battle of Lake Myr, the remaining Order forces were not making ns along the veins of Vale or Isarn. Instead, they were marching with forced speed through eastern Adalrik while evading or cing distance between themselves and Athelstans mounted scouts. When finally a full day had passed where there had been no sign of Isarns soldiers, Richard and Brand agreed that their ruse had worked and Athelstan had turned his mind elsewhere; they turned the army north into the hills and marched towards the imposing Weolcans.


    Thus named because the tallest peaks were perpetually shrouded in clouds, this great chain of mountains had only one easily traversable pass, the hill on which Middanhal was built. To cross the mountains elsewhere was a risky endeavour at best, and only if circumstances were ideal; this meant summer, agreeable weather, and knowing the paths that would offer least resistance. The first of these conditions was met, the second was in the hands of the gods, but the third had caused problems for the Ordermanders.


    Thankfully, one of the men-at-arms had a bright idea. He was himself the younger son of a beacon warden in the south, and he suggested enlisting the aid of these from the Weolcan beacons. Given their remote locations, the Order did not maintain its own postings nor send its own soldiers to man them. Instead, a local family of good standing was chosen and given a yearly stipend for keeping the beacons stocked with firewood and, of course, lighting them on the rare asions it was necessary.


    The position was often also hereditary, meaning that in some ces, the same family had manned a particr beacon for centuries. Given how seldom the beacons had to be lit, it was an ingenious way for the Order to have all its beacons manned with little effort. It gave the warden families a sense of duty and loyalty towards the Order, which was as useful as their knowledge of the local area.


    It took some effort, but eventually the Order found guides among the wardens to take them into the mountains and across. Their speed had lessened considerably since they no longer feared pursuit, but also because the terrain was now far harsher; thus, no man in the army felt their journey had be easier simply because their marching speed had decreased.


    Near the back of the army marched the Hthian longbowmen. Less than hundred remained, which was not enough to constitute even a single full regiment. Some had fled during the battle at Lake Myr; others had followed the soldiers fleeing east, desiring to return to Hthiod and join the Order forces there. In truth, all of them would probably have gone east if given the choice; Brand had not allowed such, however, and ordered the rest of them to follow the army north.


    This is madness, Quentin muttered under his breath.


    Quiet, Nichs said by his side, ncing at hispanion. Nichs fortunes had changed drastically since he had won the archerypetition at solstice, and the only constant he seemed to enjoy was thepany of the two archers who marched alongside him.


    You think anybody here disagrees? Quentin challenged.


    I think the captain disagrees, and he can have you strung up for such talk, Nichs argued nervously.


    The captain, the other man said contemptuously. Maybe he should hear it. Not that it would do any good. That young brat is making all the decisions, and everybody knows it.


    Thats even worse, Nichs hissed. Dont you know they say hes dragonborn? Theyll skin you alive for speaking ill of him.


    Dragonborn, Quentin said, packing even more disdain into his voice. These drakonians and their idtry of the dragonborn. What good have they ever done for me? Save dragging me into these mountains to die from cold or hunger or pitfalls.


    Dont forget thirst, Tom chimed in, though his voice was cheerful. The third archer in their small band was walking a step ahead of the other two, and his gait was easy and rxed. Or maybe a billy goat will catch you looking at its doe the wrong way and ram you off the path, he added with augh.


    d you find amusement in our impending deaths, Quentin said sourly.


    Tom shrugged. I dont think the captain would take us this way unless it made sense. Were his army. If we die, hes got nothing left.


    You forget that these knights usually know how to calcte, Quentin retorted. Maybe they figured losing a few longbowmen on the way would be worth getting the rest across. Especially when those bowmen are big louts with intolerable good cheer.


    You wound me, Tom answered, though there wasughter in his voice, which took any sting from it. Somehow, Toms mood seemed to have contagious properties; shortly after, Quentin stopped grumbling and continued the march in silence.


    ~~~~


    A few dayster, the Order army made its first camp up in the mountains. There was no lingering warmth left now at this height, and with no tents, there was little shelter against wind or cold. The meny or sat huddled together, doing their best to use each other for heat and swaddling themselves in their cloaks. Some had managed to find a wayward tree here or there that against odds had managed to make roots and grow in such inhospitable surroundings. A few fires had been built, attracting the soldiers like moths, though it could not benefit many; for the vast majority of the soldiers, there was nofort of any kind to be found.


    Near the back of the army sat Brand with his young sergeant, Matthew. True to the ts of the Order, the captain and his first lieutenant were kept separate during nights in camp, however little their current resting ce might resemble an actual encampment. Therefore, while Sir Richard was at the front, Brand brought up the rear. A small fire burned there, though not for heat; in truth, it was little more than a torch, a single branch of wood burning faintly. Its purpose was not warmth but light. It illuminated a small chessboard, letting the pieces cast long shadows.


    Matthew, are you purposely ttering your teeth in an attempt to disturb my thinking? Brand asked while staring at the board.


    No, sir, Matthew answered. Milord, he added hastily.


    If it were a stratagem, I could excuse it. As it is now, you are simply annoying me, the young squire told his even younger sergeant.


    Sorry, milord, Matthew mumbled, pressing his teeth together and watching Brand make his move.


    Check, the lieutenant spoke. The sergeants fingers hovered over one piece, then another, and finally the first again before picking it up slowly. Careful, Brand told him. You move that to block my dragonlord, you expose your jarl and it will be free for the taking. Biting his lip, Matthew put the pawn down and frowned. He went for another piece only to be cautioned again by Brand. If you move your knight, I will move my pawn forward to threaten it. You will not be able to pull your knight back and it will be lost.


    This game is hard, the sergeant acknowledged. But you are a good teacher, milord, he hurried to say.


    You are not the first I teach, Brand confided with a vague smile.


    Who else have you taught?


    My sister, Brand said, keeping his eyes on the board. Though we did not have much time to y.


    I dont have siblings, Matthew remarked casually. Nor parents for that matter. Worked as a stable hand at an inn in Lowtown. Then I heard they were recruiting for war, and it was five times the pay I got working the stables. I didnt think theyd have me, he admitted. I triedst year, and they justughed at me. But I was told they were recruiting any man they could, and its true, they barely looked at me. Just took down my name, and that was it.


    In times of war, the Order lowers its standards for recruitment, Brand said absentmindedly, his gaze still fixed on the game. Otherwise it will not be able to field an army of the necessary size.


    I see, Matthew answered, though his voice sounded devoid of understanding. He paused for a little while before he spoke again. Whats it like having a sister?


    I suppose there are as many answers to that as there are sisters, Brand replied, his faint smile returning. Looking up, he found Matthews expectant eyes upon him; hesitating a moment, the young lieutenant lowered his gaze to the board and spoke again. I do not know her well. My childhood was spent as a page in the Citadel, my years as squire were in Alczar.


    Still Matthew did not speak, and eventually Brand continued. I suppose, in spite all of that, she is precious to me. I have no other family, nothing else to my name. She shares my peculiar circumstances. Same blood, same hardships. My blessings are hers, my misfortunes are hers, and reverse. There is reassurance in knowing one other person will always be by my side, Brand concluded, his eyes never wavering from the board or looking up. Your move still, he quietly added.


    Blinking as if waking from a daze, Matthew focused on the chessboard again and finally chose a hitherto unconsidered piece. He moved it hesitantly; moments after cing it on its own location, Brand moved one of his thanes diagonally into the now empty spot. Checkmate.


    You didnt warn me about that, Matthew said with a twinge ofint.


    Never tell all your secrets, Brand smiled. Pack it up, go to sleep. You can have retaliation tomorrow.


    ~~~~


    The next week brought rain and further hardships. The army had left behind any semnce of paths or trails that the mountain dwellers or wild animals might have used. The terrain was nothing but rock now, climbing and falling constantly, a test of each mans fortitude. Every now and then, someone faltered, either through failing strength or by unfortunate misstep. As the days dragged on, more and more did not rise again to continue the march. The first few times it happened, those nearby cried out in shock or rm, and sometimes they attempted to carry those who could not walk on their own strength. With each passing day, however, this happened less and less. In the end, no man had the surplus of stamina to help anyone but himself. Those who faltered were left where they fell, regardless of whether they still drew breath or not.


    While some were taken by exhaustion, others became prey to the cold. The first night of heavy rains fell and felt like a curse from the heavens, drenching them all. Every soldier was coughing for breath, trying in vain to keep dry under his cloak. The torrents of rain came with such force that nothing could withstand the relentless assault of the tiny droplets, finding their way to soak all fabric, dampen the skin, and rot the contents of their bags. The men cursed the heavens back, evoking every deity and demon they knew; the heavens remained indifferent, answering only with more water.


    Several days and nights of intermittent rain took its toll. The hardy Mearcians, so rarely touched by illness, coughed and shook to a man. Each morning, fewer woke than had gone to sleep, and steadily their numbers dwindled.


    ~~~~


    When the rains finally seemed to cease permanently, a collective sigh of relief was heard, and the soldiers looked forward to their first night of sleep with some minimal measure offort. As it slowly grew dark and the men prepared to sleep, Brand could be seen wandering instead. He seemed to have no specific purpose in mind; he simply walked up and down the breadth of their rudimentary camp. On asion, those with enough remaining energy would greet him quietly with a nod or words of address, which he usually replied in kind.


    At some point, Brand stopped to gaze at the scattered lights in the night and what little he could see of the primitive encampment. With fingers made stiff from the cold, he held the king piece that had been a gift from Athelstan long ago. Whatever thoughts were running through Brands head, however, he hid them well; his face was without expression.


    By chance, he stood near the small area where the jarl of Theodstan had made camp with his thanes. Seeing the first lieutenant, Theodoric got up and walked over to him. At a distance and in the dark, nothing seemed changed about Brand aspared to a week ago; upon approach, however, the jarl noticed hollow cheeks and pale lips. You are not going to sleep? Theodoric asked.


    In a while, Brand said neutrally, returning the figurine to his pocket. Just inspecting the camp and the men. Letting them know they are being watched.


    I wonder if that should be understood in a friendly or ominous manner, the jarl remarked.


    Either will do, Brand smiled.


    You do not seem troubled by the cold and this sted wind, Theodoric continued, pulling his cloak closer and rubbing his arms. In contrast, the young squire stood with his cloak open and in a rxed pose as if undisturbed by the elements.


    It chills me to the marrow, Brand admitted. But the men know it was I who dragged them up here. It is important they see me undaunted by the obstacles we face.


    You think they will lose respect for you simply because you are human? Theodoric said, his voice coloured by disbelief.


    I think they will more readily follow me if not, Brand answered. Seeing the jarls sceptical expression retained, he borated. If I am as they are, with all the weaknesses and doubts known to themselves, they will assume I am subject to same. They must see me as greater than them if they are to follow me across mountains, into battle. They are moved by my will, and my will must be seen as unbreakable.


    The jarl stared at the squire with a mixture of incredulity and uncertainty. Why are you here, Adalbrand of House Arnling? Theodoric finally asked. You are not a jarl or andgrave, you are not even a knight. You are a squire whose leadership so far has cost scores of men their lives and many more before this is done. What ambition moves your will?


    Brand exhaled deeply through his nose, his breath sounding like a choked smile. If you must ask, I fear my reasons are tooplicated to exin. But if it will ease your mind, I will say my sister. I will not tolerate that she is in the hands of these viins bearing the mark of Isarn.


    I suppose I can rte, Theodoric said slowly. My own sister is in their power as well.


    Really? Brand eximed. So far, he had been gazing mostly at the path ahead, but now he turned to stare at the jarl. But you came to Lake Myr to warn us. Why did you not send your sister out of the city beforehand? Indeed, the squire continued as he narrowed his eyes, is your sister not friends with mine? Why did you not ensure their safety, both of them? As he finished speaking, his tone turned from using to angry.


    The danger of discovery was too great, Theodoric defended himself. I had hopes that the Order army would return from Myr and retake the city. We had to maintain secrecy. Theodwyn volunteered to attend Jarl Isarns feast and keep up pretence. She should be admired for her courage.


    I am amazed it took me so long to realise this, Brand continued, his voice slowly filling up with wrath like water in a vessel. You knew the entire city was a trap, and you let them all be victims. So this is the friendship of Theodstan! he eximed furiously. This is what Arndis received for cing her trust in you and yours.


    Theodoric opened his mouth, but taken aback at this disy of anger, words failed him. Brand, on the other hand, was far from done. I have no titles, nonds, no gold, no soldiers who owe me fealty, the young squire said pointedly. I have only my sister. Yet despite I am absent all these tokens of power, I will drive my sword through Jarl Isarns heart in retaliation for imprisoning her. And if she has been hurt, if one drop of Arnling blood has been spilt, I will kill everyst man of the House of Isarn, Brand spoke with wrath in his words. And any other man I deem guilty of causing her harm, he added with a voice sharp as steel.


    The jarl almost stumbled backwards before heposed himself. Is that a threat? he spoke coldly.


    It is a deration of my intentions, take it however you wish, Brand said curtly. The night is growing colder, Jarl Theodstan. Return to your men, get what sleep and warmth you can. Another long day awaits us soon. Having spoken thus, he turned and left.


    ~~~~


    When morning came, the sun brought a fragment of heat along with its light. Stirring from uneasy rest, the soldiers woke and gathered their few belongings. One small advantage that came with not having tents or simr meant that breaking camp was easily and swiftly done. The Hthian longbowmen sometimes took a little longer, however, which was why they were at the back of the camp; they spent each morning inspecting their bow staffs, making sure its protective oil had kept the wood from cracking in the night frost and renewing theyer as necessary.


    Nichs had just packed his oils and rags away when he turned at the sound of Quentins voice. Tom, wake up, the surly archer said. Mountain isnt getting any smaller while you sleep. There was a moments hesitation before Quentin spoke again, a single word fraught with vulnerability. Tom?


    In panic, Nichs dropped his belongings and crawled over to Tom. He ced his hands on Toms shoulder, grabbing them to turn his friend around, but recoiled upon feeling the cold flesh. With a pained expression, he looked up at Quentin; thetter emitted a howl like a wounded animal and pulled Tom around to lie on his back, revealing only dead eyes staring into the air.


    At first, Nichs could only fall backwards, sitting awkwardly on the frozen ground with an expression devoid of understanding. Quentin had a different reaction; standing up, his face lit up with anger, and his hand seized the dagger in his belt as he turned around.


    Nichs followed Quentins gaze towards its target; nearby, Brand had finished a meagre breakfast with Matthew and was making ready to depart. Dark rings around the lieutenants eyes spoke of fatigue, but he stood straight and as if unaffected by weariness.


    With surprising agility, Nichs leapt to his feet and caught up with Quentin as thetter began moving towards theirmander. No, Nichs hissed as he ced one hand on his friends arm.


    He brought us here, Quentin spat out. Its his fault. He killed Tom as good as if with his own hands.


    And what good wille of you knifing him? Nichs asked, trying to keep his voice low.


    At least Tom wont rot alone, Quentin argued, wresting himself free of Nichs grasp.


    And then they kill you, came the response. Quentin, Nichs continued urgently, I just lost a friend. Dont make me lose the only one I have left.


    Quentins features softened slightly, losing some of their anger. Fine, he growled, returning his knife to its sheath.


    Fine, Nichs repeated, and they turned back towards where Tomy.


    The first thing they both noticed was that his body nowcked its boots; a little distance away, a soldier could be seen running away with an extra pair of footwear in his hands. Hels whore, Quentin cursed. Well, we cant leave him there like that.


    No, Nichs agreed. But we dont have tools to dig with, and this is all rock anyway. We put him in the ravine over there, at least hell be undisturbed by wild beasts.


    A paupers grave, Quentin muttered. What about his arrows though? And his food and that. We cant afford to waste it.


    We share it, Nichs decided. You and I were his friends.


    Lets put his staff with him though, Quentin suggested. He was a fine archer, as good as any of us. He should be buried with his weapon.


    Both men were worn, and Tom was heavy; they managed to ce his bow staff upon his body, however, and lift it up. With great difficulty and heavy breaths, they moved their friend some hundred paces until they reached the edge of the cliffs and could stare down a deep pit. Ast effort and they threw the body over the edge. It soon disappeared from their sight.


    Any words we should say? Nichs asked.


    Im not a bloody robe, Quentin muttered. You say something.


    Which god did Tom revere?


    No idea. He was born on a farm. Egnil?


    Lets say Austre, Nichs considered. She must appreciate an archer like him.


    Fine by me, Quentin assented and looked at Nichs expectantly.


    Right, thetter said, clearing his throat. Austre, look to our friend, Tom, and have mercy on his soul. Always his aim was true as was his friendship. He was steadfast in life. Let him have peace in death. Send the eagle to guide his soul to your halls of evesting light.


    Pretty good, Quentin acknowledged.


    Buried my share of people, Nichs shrugged. Lets go, or well fall behind.


    Maybe we should, Quentin suggested slowly. No need to rush.


    What do you mean? Nichs frowned.


    Well, the shorter man said, we both joined because we were going back to Hthiod, right? Only these bastards decide to have a war. Well, thats got nothing to do with you and me. These drakonians can kill each other all I care. Tom died for them, but its not toote for us. We can turn back and go home still.


    You mean deserting, Nichs eximed and lowered his voice. Are you mad? Penalty is death.


    None of this lot will be going after us, Quentin imed with confidence. Once were home, whos going to know?


    Do you know the way back? Through these mountains? Nichs asked.


    Same way we came in, Quentin argued, though sounding less self-assured.


    If we get lost? Were certainly dead up here, Nichs said insistently. If you really want to run, I cant stop you. But doing it now is suicide, and I wont follow you. So pull it together until were down this sted mountain, and then we can talk. With that, Nichs walked back towards their possessions to follow the rest of the army beginning the days march; after brief hesitation, Quentin followed suit.


    ~~~~


    During the second week in the mountains, Theodoric pushed his way towards the front of the armys stretched-out columns. He continued until he saw Richard and Brand, apanied by their respective sergeants as well as the local guides leading the way. Richard, the jarl called out, though his voice did not carry far. Nheless, the short knight heard it and slowed his pace until Theodoric had caught up to him.


    Something the matter, Richard said in his customary, gruff manner.


    I wanted to speak with you. Privately, Theodoric said quietly.


    This is as private as it will get, Richard said with a snort ofughter.


    Right, Theodoric conceded. I wanted to discuss your first lieutenant.


    What about him, Richard asked, his voice remaining casual.


    I do not trust him, Theodoric admitted, staring at the object of their conversation walking in front.


    He is not your lieutenant, you do not have to trust him, Richard pointed out in a casual voice.


    I do not think you should trust him either, the jarl attempted. He is a squire, unproven.


    It is a question of weeks that separates him from being a knight, the margrave replied. Should hardly matter. And he was Athelstans squire. If he is half as good as that traitorous dog, I will want him by my side.


    That may be the problem, Theodoric urged. We know not how his history with Athelstan affects him.


    Are you saying that you think he might turn traitor too? Richard said, stopping abruptly to look at the other man.


    No, Theodoric quickly answered. Only that with circumstances against us, we cannot afford the smallest error. It would take very little for us to lose everything.


    I am keenly aware. This is not my first campaign, Richard said pointedly.


    Of course not. But it is his, and his rtionship with Athelstan may impair his judgement one way or the other. Not to mention that his decision to lead us into these mountains have cost us. What will we have left when this is over? Theodoric asked, his eyes finding Brands back again.


    You should be thrilled, Richard imed. We are going to Theodstan. If that somehow displeases you, I would say the fault lies with you, not with my lieutenant.


    I merely advise caution, Richard, the jarl spoke quietly. Do not forget who is captain, who is inmand. I fear that young Adalbrand already has.


    I will keep that in mind, Richard said brusquely; he increased his pace, returning to the forefront of the column.


    ~~~~


    It took about two weeks for the soldiers to finish the crossing; as far as the memories of men could remember, it was a feat never done before by another army. Hundredsy dead on the frozen path behind them, and the mood was sombre as they finished the descent and the terrain turned even; still, relievedughter and talking could be heard. As they reached a small stream with cold meltwater, a brief rest was called for the men to drink and eat while themanders held council.


    I will send one of my thanes ahead to the Crag, Theodoric dered, to raise my banners and begin the muster. The rest of us may follow and join the Order forces with mine.


    Agreed to the first part, Brand replied, but I do not think we should march to Cragstan.


    It is the most obvious ce to gather, the jarl pointed out.


    I propose we march on Middanhal, Brand suggested, prompting looks of confusion from Theodoric and Richard. Once your men are mustered, they should march to join us at the capital.


    That is insane, Theodoric protested. We have a few thousand men at most. In our current state we are no match for Jarl Isarns forces.


    The city lies undefended, Brand imed. If we dy, march to Cragstan, it will give them time to fortify the city and garrison it heavily.


    How can you even know that? Theodoric burst out. Mere guesswork.


    They would have been forced to empty the city to attack us at Lake Myr, Brand countered. They may have more forces awaiting muster in Isarn, which is why we must make haste. We have to do this now.


    What if Athelstan returned to Middanhal after Myr? Theodoric pointed out. He could be there right now, waiting for reinforcements and the city brimming with his troops. We will march to our deaths!


    Athelstan will not have turned back, Brand argued. As soon as he no longer deemed us a threat, he would have turned west towards Vale.


    How could you possibly know that, Theodoric said disdainfully.


    Because I know him, Brand said forcefully. Because I was his squire for seven years. Because Athelstan knows that the longer this war drags on, the greater is the chance that Vale mounts a proper counterattack, or the other marshals will interfere, or perhaps even the king of Korndale will make his bid. Athelstan is in a hurry, and so should we be.


    But if we do this, they will know of our presence here in the North, the jarl all but shouted. You will throw away our only advantage, everything we just gained by marching here!


    On the contrary, Brand retorted, this is the only way to use said advantage. Going to Cragstan will give them time to discover our presence. We will have but one chance to take the city. It is now, immediately.


    Richard, you cannot seriously entertain such a thought! Theodoric said outraged.


    How long has it been since Middanhal was taken by storm? the knight simply asked.


    Centuries, Theodoric stated.


    Not since Arn did it, Brand borated. He only had undisciplined hignders at his side, while we have an Order army.


    Is that your gain? Theodoric asked acerbically. You seek to rival your forbear and in the process throw away everything!


    I seek to win this war, Brand simply said, keeping his voice calm.


    They will not be expecting an assault on the northern walls, Richard considered, speaking slowly. They would assume the danger woulde from Vale against Saltgate.


    Are you mad as well? Theodoric eximed with eyes wide open. Even if this could be done, we would be trapped! Athelstans army from the south and any remaining forces from Isarn itself attacking from the north!


    But they would be unable to link up, Richard continued, a smile cautiously breaking out. A co-ordinated assault would be nigh impossible. Athelstans army would be hounded by Vales forces, making a lengthy siege untenable as well.


    Richard, do not fall for the temptation, Theodoric implored him. Attacking Middanhal will cost us everything.


    We will do as he suggests, Richard said dismissively. Send your messenger, Theodoric. Tell them to muster your men and have them march to Middanhal.


    Theodoric stood dumbfounded for a moment, watching the captain and the lieutenant walk away as they became engrossed in discussing the details of the assault. The jarls face contorted itself in an expression of disgust before he returned to find his men. They had been eating and resting but snapped to attention when their master appeared.


    Theodoric gestured for one of the thanes to approach him and spoke in a low voice. Go north. Get a horse and ride straight to the Crag. Tell my steward to raise my levies, every man in my jarldom, hemanded his servant. He plucked his si ring from his finger and ced it in the thanes hand. Use this if anyone questions that you act on my authority.


    Very good, milord, the thane bowed. Any other messages to carry?


    Tell my soldiers to remain at the Crag, Theodoric added after a moments hesitation. They are not to leave Theodstan for any reason. They must wait until I send furthermand.


    At once, milord, the thane replied, inclining his head. He turned and ran north.


    Theodoric watched his messenger disappear into the hillyndscape as the terrain sloped towards Theodstan; as for himself, he turned to face west and followed the progression of the Order army beginning its march towards Middanhal.

 Chapter 42: The Dead of Night

    Chapter 42: The Dead of Night


    The Dead of Night


    Middanhal


    It would take several days for the Order army to reach Middanhal from its current location. Although Brand desired to put the soldiers through a forced march, he had to ept that it was not possible after their ordeal in the mountains. The twomanders used the time to discuss the impending assault. The reason why Middanhal was so difficult to take by direct assault, especially without a preceding siege to soften the defenders, were its daunting fortifications.


    While some castles might be more difficult to conquer due to being built in remote locations and upon mountain peaks, Middanhal was thergest city in the known world. The other great cities of Adalmearc, such as Herbergja and Fontaine, had often fallen to attackers due to their extensive requirements for fortifications, which always inevitably contained weaknesses of some sort. Fontaine, situated on a t in, simply had no natural terrain to augment its defences aside the river Mihtea and thus required a garrison of many thousands to be properly defended, and eventually, its attackers would manage to cause a breach. Herbergja, with its enormous natural harbour, was vulnerable from the seaside.


    Middanhal was another story entirely. The Mihtea had its source nearby and flowed straight through the city before disappearing underground beneath the Weolcan Mountains and emerging many miles south; this meant the city had an endless supply of fresh water. Along with its vast stores of food, this made the capital near invulnerable to being starved out by sieges. An attacker would have to take the city by storm, which was an equally daunting prospect.


    Situated between two great mountains, Wyrmpeak to the east and Valmark to the west, Middanhal was unassable from those fronts. This meant that despite the size of the capital of the realms, its fortifications needed only to run a limited distance in order topletely enclose the city; in turn, this allowed even a small garrison to fully man its walls.


    Lastly, the walls themselves were unique. After establishing his dominion over all the realms, Arn had initiated the building programme that saw the construction of the great Temple, the Arnsweg, the Arnsbridge, and the Langstan among other projects. The master builder for much of this was a riverman called Renaud, whose boldness and vision led him to suggest the great dome for the Temple in Middanhal and thereby impress Arn. Once the Temple stood finished, the king gave Renaud the task ofpletely rebuilding the city walls to make them unconquerable. Renaud, who had been a siege engineer before he became a builder, undertook the project with great enthusiasm. In fact, hepleted his task with such sess that Arn forbade him from ever constructing fortifications elsewhere; the king did not want any of his subjects possessing simrly unconquerable strongholds.


    Renauds solution incorporated a system of double walls running the entire length of both the northern and southern gaps between the mountains. The inner walls were tallest, up towards forty feet, providing cover for archers. Directly in front were the outer walls, slightly lower with a height of about thirty feet. The small space between the outer and inner walls was filled with earth. While peculiar, and requiring twice as much stone and work toplete, Renauds unique fortifications held several advantages.


    The earthenyer in between gave the outer walls support to absorb the shock from rams or stones flung from catapults;bined with the underground being pure rock and thus making mining impossible, the walls were considered invulnerable. The gate, often the weakest point in any line of defence, was made from the strongest Nordsteel and situated deep inside the gatehouse with obstacles ced to prevent a ram from rolling close enough to strike it; should the gate somehow be destroyed, two portcullisesy behind it. All in all, the fortifications of the city were known to be impregnable. The only option for taking Middanhal was to scale them, which wasplicated by the double walls.


    Normally, siege towers, stormdders, or simr would be employed to allow attackers to reach the top of the walls. Such could only be used to scale the outer walls, however, since their presence would keep the enemy from pushing their towers all the way to the inner walls or cing theirdders against them. Conventional siege machinery would only allow the attackers to take the outer walls; once they got that far, they would bepletely exposed to the arrows of the defending archers positioned upon the inner walls and their towers.


    Only way to gain ess from the outer to the inner walls was through the gatehouse, which had narrow, winding corridors that were easily defensible and with heavy steel doors; all the while the attackers were forced to find some way past those doors, arrows would still be raining down on them from the higher floors through arrow slits.


    You are saying it will not be easy, Brand remarked casually. It was the first evening after they had left the mountains, and the twomanders were sharing theirst meal for the day.


    I am saying that if we aplish this, to Hel with the Weolcans, Richard grinned. People may not know whether to be more impressed by us crossing the mountains or immediately retaking Middanhal afterwards, but I lend my voice to thetter.


    We face two difficulties, Brand continued. We have no engineers in the army to construct any kind of siege engines. Secondly, our assault must be done swiftly and deftly to maintainplete surprise. We cannot afford a lengthy siege, we cannot even afford that our first assault is repelled. We will not be given a second chance.


    So, we have neither engineers nor time for a proper siege, Richard shrugged before stuffing bread into his mouth. Let us just condense that to one difficulty and move on.


    That sounds reasonable enough, Brand acknowledged, giving a slightugh.


    I prefer it that way, at any rate, the impetuous knight added. I hate long sieges, all that waiting. Just give me the enemy and a straight line to him, no obstacles.


    Brands cool voice interrupted him. Regardless, we need to find some means of scaling the walls.


    Richard scratched his head. The only method I can think of, given our limitations, is grappling hooks. We find a vige during our march, get the local smith to make some. They are fairly simple, after all, even a vige hammer should be able to handle that.


    I thought that would require a machine, Brand frowned. Something with the strength to hurl the hooks onto the walls.


    A ballista, Richard acknowledged. But I know the inders use hooks aboard their ships to grab the railing of the enemy ship and pull it close so it can be boarded. They practice throwing the hooks by hand. There are inders among our soldiers.


    Have your sergeant find some for us tomorrow, Brand agreed, taking a swipe from his water sk. That gets us on the walls. We still need to achieve doing it in secrecy so that they have a chance to take the gatehouse and let the rest of the army inside. If the defenders be aware too soon, they will reinforce the walls and stop us.


    We will need a few archers to silence the guard, Richard considered. All those we bring along for the initial assault should be men used to climbing, able to do it fast, and who are also strong fighters. I reckon if we take more than twenty, we will make too much noise.


    Taking the walls of Middanhal with twenty men, Brand said with raised eyebrows. You are right, that is quite the feat.


    We are betting on them having light defences, are we not? Richard shrugged. A couple of peasants from Isarn should not be much hindrance.


    Indeed. I only hope we are not toote, Brand admitted. A few days may make the difference of whether they have received reinforcements or not. By the way, he continued slowly, one of us should lead the assault on the walls while the other remains with the rest of the army. Ordinarily, the first lieutenant would have the task of leading the initial charge while the captain stays behind tomand the remainder


    Richard leaned his head back to howl a coarseugh. Never mind that,d. I would fight the ck Snake itself and any man that would take my ce leading that charge. If anybody is going to be first on the walls for the first time that Middanhal is taken by assault in eight hundred years, the knight dered, that anybody will be Sir Richard of Alwood.


    Very well, Brand smiled. I do advise caution, however. The walls that you will assault do not have their fearsome reputation without good cause, the squire added with a touch of concern.


    Richard was still for a moment before he shrugged. Neither do I, he grinned.


    ~~~~


    Elsewhere in the primitive camp, Nichs and Quentin were carrying on a discussion of their own. You wanted to wait until we left the mountains, Quentin stated. Well, were out. Why you want to wait now?


    You dont want to make that crossing again, do you? Nichs asked rhetorically. The only way we get back to Hthiod is by getting to Middanhal.


    So? Quentin asked with a dismissive voice. Then we go to Middanhal. Once were out of here, we can go any direction we want.


    Except for the fact, Nichs said, identally raising his voice and quickly ncing around as he realised. Were already moving west. We dont want to leave in the same direction of the army and get caught. Once we split, we need the army moving the opposite direction of us.


    And what happens when we reach Middanhal? Quentin questioned and gave the answer himself. They realise theres an enemy army on the loose, and the city will be sealed up tighter than a salted arse.


    Maybe were not going to Middanhal, Nichs suggested. Thends of Isarn lie west of here, I think. We could be marching there to attack them. Once that happens, we take off and go south. We stroll through the northern gate, out through the southern, and well be back on the heath in weeks.


    What if we are marching to the capital? Quentin countered. Once the siege begins, nobodys getting in or out.


    Then we have to be patient, Nichs acknowledged. We let the de boys storm the walls, hang back, and wait until the city is taken. Were archers, he added with a shrug. Its not us theyll be sending in the first wave, were too valuable to waste like that.


    Fine, Quentin consented. We wait. But not a day longer than we have to.


    Agreed, Nichs nodded, and they went to sleep.


    ~~~~


    A few nightster, the Order army had reached its destination. They could have reached it during the day, but themanders had halted their progress while they were still many miles from Middanhal. First, their scouts had cleared the area to ensure none would bring warning to the soldiers of Isarn that an enemy army was approaching. As it grew dark, they had made the final approach. The main part of the army stood arrayed under Brandsmand, now less than a mile away. Meanwhile, a small band of approximately twenty men was sneaking closer towards the walls.


    It had been almost a month since Jarl Isarns uprising had begun. The moon was not quite dark; a sliver remained, casting what pale light it could summon onto thendscape. For this reason, none of the advance guard wore uncovered metal; their helmets, armour, weapons, and anything else with a reflective surface had been covered by fabric. A few of them had even exchanged their mail shirts for leather protection to help with the climb.


    The group was led by Richard. His sergeant, Graulf, was by his side as were two inders carrying rope and hooks. The rest of the soldiers were men-at-arms, proven veterans of the Order and strong with a de. The only exception were the two men who camest, wearing light armour and carrying bows in their hands.


    Dont be silly, Quentin, the archer with that very name mumbled to himself. Were archers, not swordsmen. Theyre not going to make us storm the walls, were too valuable for that.


    Quentin, are you well? Nichs asked with a suspicious look.


    Im just wondering how stupid I must be to find myself in this situation.


    Look, I know this seems bad, Nichs began to say.


    Bad? Quentin eximed. Theres twenty of us, and were about to attack the one city known throughout the realms for its invincible walls. With twenty men! he repeated. Bad is the blister I found on my foot the other day. I know Ive said youd be the death of me, but I didnt think youd literally get me killed!


    Look, were just here to take out the watchmen. Nobody said we had to climb the walls too. Well be fine, Nichs imed.


    Why did you have to drag me into it? Quentin continued, ignoring Nichs assurances. I get why they want you, you won the tournament. But when they asked you for another good archer, why in Hels frost-bitten arse did you say me?


    Well, its true, Nichs defended himself weakly. Youre the only other archer here whos as good as me.


    It took a moment before Quentin spoke again, slightly mollified. Well, thats hard to argue with.


    Quiet with those tongues! Richard growled. Or Ill get out my knife and make you into women. He turned towards the two inders carrying a heap of rope. How close do you need to go? he asked them, ncing southwards. The great walls of Middanhal rose before them, appearing indomitable and unapproachable even as they were some hundred feet away.


    Pretty close, one of the inders answered. Not directly underneath, but probably no further than twenty, thirty paces away.


    Very well, Richard nodded. He turned back towards the two longbowmen. You spot any pair of guardsmen on the walls, you shoot them. At the same time, give them no time for warning. If you miss your arrows or time it poorly, I will strangle you with your own bowstrings. Understood?


    Swallowing, Nichs nodded while Quentin did likewise. Each of them prepared a handful of arrows, sticking them into the ground. Richard, the two inders, and a few others crept closer towards the walls while the rest remained behind with the archers. What if they got torches? Nichs suddenly asked. Graulf, Richards sergeant, turned to look at him. If the other guards see the torches fall, they might get suspicious.


    If they see them fall, they see them fall, Graulf shrugged. Cant n for everything. Just got to see whether the ship will sink or swim, he added with a grin, using an old inder saying.


    Ahead, the darkness had almost swallowed Richard and his men, but by straining his eyes, Nichs could make them out. The inders were coiling their ropes on the ground, making sure that once the hooks flew, the rope would easily fly along rather than knot itself. Once satisfied, the two men exchanged looks, nodded, and took hold of the grappling hooks. They swung them in the air, gaining momentum. Almost mesmerised, Nichs watched the swing until each man let go and the hooks spun into the air. They shot up like fangs on a snake, embedding themselves onto the crions. There was noise as the metal struck stone, making Nichs look around anxiously. The inders made a few testing pulls, ensuring that the hooks were steady and had proper hold.


    Nichs, Quentin said lowly and nodded towards their right. Two soldiers were approaching on the wall. They did not carry torches, perhaps in order to hide themselves; however, the faint moonlight gleamed against their iron helmets, and it was caught by Quentins sharp eyes. Nodding slightly, Nichs took one arrow and notched it, as did Quentin.


    The two archers drew their bowstrings. It took considerable effort to hold their longbows drawn, but necessity dictated perfect shots so they endured the strain and aimed. I got inner, you take nearest us, Nichs whispered. Ready?


    Ready, Quentin grunted.


    Three, Nichs said quietly. Two. One. Loose.


    As thest word was uttered, first Nichs arrow was loosed and then Quentins. They struck, and the guards fell slowly to the ground. Even before seeing the arrowsnd, Nichs had grabbed a second and begun drawing his bow; he rxed when he saw it was unnecessary.


    A second arrow? Really? You thought I would miss, Quentin said insulted.


    Just wanted to be sure, Nichs mumbled. It was a difficult shot for both of us.


    Sometimes I wonder why I remain your friend, Quentinined.


    Probably because I am your only friend, Nichs argued.


    Quentin opened his mouth, but he was rendered speechless for a moment. Aw, Hel, youre right, he admitted, and they exchanged quietughter, dispelling some of the tension that hadin thick on them.


    Eyes sharp, Graulf barked at them, and they focused on their surroundings once more. Although they could not be certain at this distance, there was no need to doubt that Richard was the shape that now approached the top of the wall. A few more heaves and he was over the parapet, sharply followed by others. Now, its our turn next, the sergeant told the archers.


    You want us up there? Nichs asked hesitantly.


    Not going to be any good having you down here in the long run, Graulf grinned. The funs going to be on the wall, boys, not outside. Now hop to, sharp! he added, using the same barking voice as before.


    If this gets me killed, I wont forgive you, Quentin mumbled to Nichs, though there was little sting in his voice. Reaching the wall, both archers slung their bows across their backs and made ready to grab the rope and begin the climb.


    ~~~~


    Atop the outer walls, Richard stood impatiently. He had only his sword with him, but so far, it remained sheathed; as soon as the steel was drawn, it might draw notice. The others already up with him stood leaning over the parapet, helping their fellows make the final climb across the crions. About half of their small band was up when torches could be spotted in the distance, moving towards them.


    Hurry, Richard hissed over the wall. Several anxious moments passed as the torches came closer. Finally, Quentin and Nichs appeared by each rope. The inders pulled them up, and they almost stumbled as their feet touched stone. Behind them, Graulf could be heard heaving for breath as he made the same trip.


    Bows out, their captainmanded them. Were almost spotted. Kill them, he urged.


    Climbing walls of thirty feet with only a rope was no small exertion, but the longbowmen were helped by their light attire; there was also the fact that training with their great bows since childhood had left them both with strong, sinewy arms. Thus, they needed only a moment topose themselves before they pulled their bows from their backs and readied arrows. With faint hisses, their arrows struck true. Out in the darkness, the torches could be seen dropped.


    The movement was noticed. Further away in the far distance, other torches could be seen moving about. They know something is up,ds, Richard said coolly. It is a mile from here to the gatehouse, and I do not know how many swartlings stand between us. But I tell you this. We die or we be legends. He paused before he spoke again briefly. Probably both. Having spoken thus, he finally unsheathed his sword and kissed the de.


    The full band of Order soldiers was ready to follow Richard as he began moving towards the gate; the inders camest, pulling up the ropes and hooks. The darkness helped conceal their movements and presence a while longer; perhaps the sheer unexpectedness of their attack aided as well. Whatever the cause, the Order soldiers managed to kill the next guard patrol with ease. Only when they reached another pair of sentinels did their good fortune run dry, and cries of rm were heard.


    Activity could be seen through the dark, surrounding their destination; the torches by the gatehouse served as a beacon, drawing them close. More Isarn soldiers came rushing against them as Richard and his men swept down the walls. Against one of the best swordsmen in the realm, they stood little chance; although less equipped than them, the margrave of Alwood butchered his way forward. When any of the defenders survived his onught, the band that followed made quick work of them. The mile between their starting and end point was swiftly traversed; only as they reached the gatehouse did troublemence.


    The way forward from the outer walls was purposely difficult. First, one would have to pass through a narrow corridor that led onto the inner walls, and only then could ess be gained to the inner top chamber of the gatehouse. Despite all his prowess, Richard found himself held at bay; the defenders had long spears and there was only room for one person in the passage that would take him from the outer to the inner walls. With only his sword, the knight found it exceedingly difficult to get close enough to his enemy; furthermore, he suffered extreme danger, sometimes manifesting into wounds, in order to reach striking distance. Whenever a defender fell, another immediately took up position in the corridor.


    Graulf, his weatherworn sergeant, stood frustrated behind his lord. Increasingly, noise could be heard on the other side of the inner walls that rose to their left. More defenders wereing, shrinking their chances of opening the gates. Turning back, he snapped his fingers at the inders. We need to get around this, he told them. Throw your hooks up. We cross the inner wall same as the outer. The other men nodded, quickly preparing the rope. Within moments, they were once again swinging the hooks andnding them on the upper parapet.


    You two, salt-lickers, Graulf said gruffly to the Hthian longbowmen, youre with me. And you lot, he added, making a sweeping gesture that included six or seven of the soldiers. Rest of you, support the captain, hemanded and swiftly turned to grab one of the ropes, starting his ascent.


    Swallowing, Nichs slung his bow over his back once again and grabbed the other rope. He was less adept or perhaps less motivated than Graulf, who reached the top of the inner wall first. As Nichs struggled to pull himself over the crions, he caught glimpse of the sergeant already engaged inbat. His opponent had the rich attire of a thane and handled his sword and shield skilfully. The shield especially gave him an edge against Graulf, who was having trouble standing his ground.


    The thane found an opening, using his boot to kick Graulf backwards, causing him to fall on his back. Immediately the thane surged forward to nt his sword in the sergeants chest; however, with Graulf lying down, Nichs had a clear line of sight. His arrow flew, striking the thane in the eye and killing him instantly. Further ahead, more Isarn soldiers were moving out of the gatehouse and onto the inner walls. Nichs began shooting arrows as fast as he was able, hitting a few and forcing the defenders to approach more carefully with shields raised. The time bought allowed Graulf to gain his footing, and now other Order soldiers reached them as well. Generalbat ensued on the walls with the parties evenly matched.


    The scales were tipped by Nichs and Quentin; both of them eagle-eyed archers, they slowly but surely managed to thin the group of enemy soldiers until theirrades could push through. Exhausted for arrows, the two longbowmen quickly scavenged the dead before following the others.


    Inside, the remaining defenders quickly fell; those who had been keeping Richard and his men at bay were in from behind. Stepping out of the corridor, the knight quickly took survey; thirteen of his band remained. Without further dy, they entered the gatehouse and found a lone soldier; he was quickly surrounded and killed. You two, Richard said, looking at the archers, get up top. Signal the army to advance and use your arrows as you can. You, he nodded towards another, get to the wheels. Open the gates, all of them. Rest of you with me.


    The group scattered towards each of their purposes. Nichs and Quentin supplied themselves with the cache of arrows kept for the defence of the gatehouse and made for the roof. South of them, the whole of Middanhal stretched before their eyes, such as they could see in the dark; north, hidden, the Order armyy. Grabbing a torch, Nichs waved it back and forth repeatedly in an effort to make as visible a sign as possible. You think thats enough? he asked.


    Quentin shrugged. Done what we can. Lets get ready.


    They moved to the southern edge of the roof. Just below them, Richard and his men were taking up position to defend the gatehouse and keep the gate open. Ahead of them, the Arnswegy wide and open, moving straight until it reached the Citadel and bent to follow the edge of the castle. From that direction, scores of Isarn soldiers were running towards the small band of Order soldiers, intent on retaking the gatehouse.


    The archers did their best to aid those fighting on the ground, shooting every arrow within reach. Being only two, their impact was minimal. Fierce fighting erupted, pushing the soldiers under the arch of the gatehouse and out of view for the longbowmen. Leaning over the parapet, Nichs tried to get a better glimpse, but all in vain; nothing could be deduced.


    Theyre here! Quentin yelled. He had meanwhile gone to the other side of the roof, not looking towards the city but out on the fields north. The darkness had concealed their approach for a long while, but now the Order army could no longer remain hidden; even with so little moonlight present, their weapons and armour shone like were they statues of steel. Forgoing the final pretence of stealth, the Order soldiers roared their battle cries as they surged forward and through the gate.


    We did it, Nichs eximed, taking deep breaths and exhaling. He and Quentin exchangedughter, and they sank down onto the stones on the roof, resting their backs against the crions.


    ~~~~


    The Isarn soldiers who had fought to regain the gatehouse were now swept away by hundreds and hundreds of Order soldiers. In the midst of the chaos, Brand was able to spot Richard and move to his side. Thetter had a few wounds and looked bloody, but he stood straight and appeared hale. Following the lieutenant was his sergeant, though Matthew kept a few paces back, hovering.


    You seem in good order, Brand remarked. I am d to see you on your feet.


    Bing a legend suits me, Richardughed. Theodoric not with you?


    The jarl was ahead of me. He seemed quite eager to enter the city, the squire exined.


    He ended his opposition to our n, then, the knight pondered.


    Apparently. The night is not over yet, however, Brand said, his expression turning serious. One of us should oversee the conquest of the southern gate. We do not want escape from the city to be possible. The other should assess the situation at the Citadel, he continued, and the pair began walking down the Arnsweg towards the castle. By now, they have long been alerted to our presence. We will not take it by stealth and hook as we did the walls.


    I will see that Saltgate is ours, Richard nodded. You make sure the Citadel is enclosed, that we will not suffer a sortie when our backs are turned.


    Agreed, Brand said before he came to an abrupt halt and grabbed Richard by the arm. Are those barricades ahead of us? They have hemmed in the northern gate of the Citadel, but He cut himself short and a smile began to spread across his face.


    Why would they enclose Richard likewise finished his sentence prematurely as the truth dawned on him. Those ck-jawed swartlings, heughed loudly. They have had a month, and they could not take the Citadel! Hel take me if that is not the banner of the Star flying on its towers still.


    That solves our most pressing problem, Brand said with a satisfied expression. Let me go to Saltgate. You should bring the news to the defenders of the Citadel. They know your face and rank, they will trust you. The knight and squire walked side by side until it was time to split; as Brand continued down the Arnsweg, he could still hear the rumblings of Richardsughter in his voice as he called for the Citadel garrison to fetch their captain, open their gates, and prepare to be reinforced.

 Chapter 43: Nieing

    Chapter 43: Nieing


    Niing


    Middanhal


    Fighting continued throughout the night. There were skirmishes on the streets as the Order soldiers met Isarn patrols, especially as they moved like a wildfire down the Arnsweg; the heaviest resistance came as the attackers tried to cross the Mihtea and enter Lowtown. The Arnsbridge was a choking point, which the defenders knew to take advantage of. Theirmander on this night, a thane left behind in the city by Isenhart, also had the most forces at his disposal. The same thought, which had imagined no danger lurked in northern Adalrik and thus left the northern walls nearly empty, had feared an assault by Vale from the south and therefore positioned most of Isarns soldiers by the southern walls.


    Nearly two hundred men managed to gather and defend the Arnsbridge; although usually considered a wide construction, now it seemed narrow. The Order soldiers could not use their superior numbers to sweep the opposition aside, and general hand-to-handbat erupted, chaotic and merciless. The number of fallen among the attackers was as great as among the defenders; this basic equation meant that when thest Isarn soldier fell, the Order still had men standing. So many dead littered the bridge that the grey stones of its pathway could not be seen, and Brand had to walk upon the corpses to continue along the Arnsweg as it moved through Lowtown. Hemanded two soldiers to set aside the body of the fallen thane, who had defended Lowtown with such valour, but they could not distinguish him among the dead; thus, his name did not survive either.


    With resistance broken, the southern fortifications fell quickly. Brand walked through the narrow corridors to reach the top of the gatehouse where the g carrying the ck swords of Isarn was pulled down. One of the bannermen of the Order, who had faithfully carried his burden across the Weolcan Mountains, raised the banner of the Star instead. Brand sent a nce towards the open fields thaty south of Middanhal and turned his eyes north; before he returned to the Citadel, he let his gaze rest against the city of which the Order was once more the master.


    ~~~~


    At the Citadel, doubt and disbelief were the recurring reactions towards the sight of Order soldiers in the city. Saturated with the constant, deep-seated fear that only sieges might give birth to, the beleaguered garrison was convinced it was another ploy. In the end, they found Captain Theobald and brought him to the northern gate; themotion had already awakened him along with many others inside the castle. Events moved faster once that happened; recognising Richard, Theobald finally epted that the impossible had happened. The castle gate was opened, and the Citadel was put to use immediately; there were many dead and wounded to take care of.


    Since the southern courtyard was thergest and its gatey closest to the rest of the city, Theobald chose it as the location for an improvised field hospital; the injured were brought to this ce. The kingthanes were selected to stand guard and keep order, and a small band of nine soldiers were allowed to remain there and rest rather than participate in cleansing the city; they were the survivors of the initial assault upon the gatehouse. Word was spreading fast of their deed, and the kingthanes flocked around them to hear it told by the characters of the tale. In return, they spoke of what had happened in the city, Isarns revolt and the failed attacks on the Citadel, and naturally, the kingthanes own role in repulsing these attacks.


    You! a voice tore through the courtyard. Like a charging bull, Berimund pushed through the crowd of soldiers; taller and broader than anybody else present, none could even slow him down. Confusion was seen on every expression, but none wanted to ask questions or hinder the progress of the captain of the kingthanes; finally, Berimund reached Nichs. One giant hand shot out and grabbed the archer by the cor, making him drop his bow. While strong as any longbowman, Nichs struggled in vain against Berimunds grip and could not extricate himself.


    Please, Nichs stammered; although Berimunds hand was grasping his clothes and not his neck, he nheless had trouble breathing. What have I done?


    You killed the prince! Berimund roared into his face, his free hand moved behind his back to unsheathe his axe. I could not save him, but Hel damn me if I do not avenge him!


    Let him go, spoke a new voice, calm yet loud enough to be heard clearly. The spectators quickly parted to allow Brand entry into the small circle that had formed around the kingthane and the archer.


    Stay out of this, Berimund warned even as his hand found his axe and gripped it tightly.


    That man is my soldier, Brand stated, and you will not harm him in thiswless manner. Relinquish your grip at once, or I will make you face the consequences.


    Who dares to speak this way? Berimund yelled. Who dares to keep me from my righteous vengeance?


    I am Adalbrand of House Arnling, Brand dered, his voice remaining calm. Atheling of Arn, atheling of Sigvard, dragonborn, and lieutenantmander of the Order troops that just reimed this city. As I said, this man is under mymand and thus my protection.


    Arnling, Berimund said with a contorted face. You have sought to interfere with me before.


    Be that as it may, this is a different matter. If you have grievance with this man, you will address it properly. For thest time, relinquish your hold upon him and state your case to me, Brand said forcefully.


    Berimund turned to stand directly in front of Brand; while of equal height, the kingthane was broader across the shoulders and seemed imposing. Brand met his gaze without flinching. This man, your man, killed the prince, Berimund imed, releasing his hold on Nichs, who fell down. He was among the archers who ambushed us on the Kingsroad.


    How do you know this? Brand asked.


    After the attack, we found the bodies of the archers who did it. Not only that, but a figurine among them. A trophy for winning the solstice archery game. The trophy that he received! Berimund said triumphantly, pointing his axe head at Nichs who was still lying on the ground.


    You found the bodies of the attackers? Brand said frowning.


    Their master repaid them with treachery as they deserved, Berimund spat. He killed them after the misdeed, no doubt to cover his tracks.


    If so, how can this man be one of the guilty parties? He is, after all, very much alive, Brand pointed out.


    He obviously escaped, Berimund argued. Lost his trophy and could not go back for it.


    And after killing the heir to the realms, he fled to Middanhal, Brand said sceptically. The only city where he would be easily recognisable due to his fame after winning the solstice games. His next move was to join the Order army to defend the realms whose heir he slew, risking his life to allow us to retake this city. This does not strike you as odd? Brand asked with an arched eyebrow.


    I cannot specte for his motives, Berimund retorted disdainfully, but it does not mean he is innocent.


    It certainly does not mean he is guilty, Brand countered. If you are bent on pursuing this, a trial may be held. But you will not harm him in this arbitrary manner.


    It was stolen, Nichs squawked from the ground. The figurine. Someone stole it from me, and my winnings. Thats why I joined the Order army. I needed the silver.


    Convenient, Berimund sneered.


    Regardless, we are done here. Killing a soldier of the Order is considered treason, Lord Berimund, regardless of your reasons or suspicions and regardless of your rank. Rest assured, I will pursue such an usation against you if you give me cause, Brand warned him.


    Berimund stood, contempt written across his face, but at length he simply turned and left. Nichs, on the other hand, moved to on his knees to grab Brands hand. Thank you, milord, he eximed, pressing the squires hand to his forehead. I thought I was dead for sure.


    You crossed the Weolcans for me, Brand said neutrally. You attacked an unconquerable city at mymand. I do not repay such loyalty with abandonment. But know that if there is any truth to it, I will let Lord Berimund and his axe have their way.


    Of course, milord, Nichs said, speaking so swiftly that his words were tripping over each other. Thank you, milord, thank you, I am your servant, milord, always, thank you, he repeated until the words became meaningless sounds.


    As you were, Brand said in a simple tone, extricating his hand and dismissing the soldiers who had been watching the spectacle. The crowd dispersed, leaving Nichs to wipe his brow, pick up his bow staff, and steady his heart.


    ~~~~


    As the day approached noon and Nichs wasposed once more, he left the Citadel. Following the Arnsweg, he passed through the city going south. Bodies were still being dragged from various parts of the city to the Temple square before being taken to the Hall of the Honoured Dead until burial could be arranged. Robes in all colours were constantly crossing the square, aiding the Order soldiers in helping the wounded and moving the dead. As he avoided getting in the way, Nichs wove his way through until he reached the Arnsbridge.


    Here, he was forced to wait a while. Since more soldiers had fallen in this ce than anywhere else, there was more work to do cleaning up. Things were furtherplicated by the fact that many bodies had fallen into the water, and there was fear that if left to rot, they might contaminate the water. Hence, the best swimmers were diving into the river with ropes, locating what corpses they could and tying them together, so other soldiers could pull them up. All thismotion dyed Nichs until the bridge finally cleared long enough that he could make his way across. For every twenty paces, a statue was erected on both sides of the walls that ran along the bridge, statues depicting kings and heroes of Adalrik. Many of these had been damaged in the battle and had severed limbs or scarred faces. It gave them eerie expressions, and Nichs did not linger.


    As he reached the southern bank, he was in Lowtown. The battle for Middanhalst night had note far beyond the Arnsbridge, and as such, Lowtown was rtively untouched; only at the other end of the road near Saltgate were there signs thatbat had taken ce. Nheless, the lower quarters had an oppressive air weighing on their streets; while normally full of people and bustling with life, few were seen. All windows had their shutters closed or were boarded up, and many buildings had signs of damage. Pools of dried blood were everywhere to be found; sending fearful nces in all directions, Nichs continued into the crooks and corners of Lowtown.


    Finally, the archer reached his destination, a house with a sign hanging outside depicting a gon of ale. The ce looked deserted unlike the first time he had been there, where it had been full of life and revelry. The door was locked and the windows shut, but one of them did not bolt properly; with some effort, Nichs pried the shutter open and jumped inside. He was treated to a darkmon room where not all the furniture was intact; shattered legs of chairs and other pieces of woody stacked in one corner.


    Suddenly, arge shape appeared, and despite its size moved with surprising speed against him; a footstool was raised in hand as a blunt weapon. Its me, Nichs! the archer eximed, raising his bow staff in defence while also stumbling back several paces.


    Master Nichs, the shape eximed, the voice revealing itself as belonging to the owner of the tavern.


    Master Gilbert, Nichs replied. From another direction, another figure appeared with a threatening meat cleaver, which was lowered upon hearing the exchange of greetings.


    Its fine, Ellen, Gilbert said, raising a disarming hand. I doubt our Master Nichs is here to rob us. Find him a tankard of ale, will you. Mustnt forget our hospitality.


    Yes, pa, the girl answered.


    Lets sit out in the yard, more light, Gilbert muttered and led Nichs out of the taverns dark interior.


    A table and a few chairs stood there already; clearly, the inhabitants of the tavern had been spending their time in this space rather than inside. Had to board things up, Gilbert said apologetically. There were riots on the streets from the very evening that those rebel bastards took over. Blood spilled all over Lowtown, it wasnt safe.


    Understandable, Nichs nodded. Thanks, he added as Ellen brought him something to drink.


    Youre wee, she smiled.


    I came with a purpose in mind, Nichs admitted. I might require you to witness that I was robbed while staying here, he told them, rubbing the back of his head where he had been clubbed.


    Witness? Gilbert said questioningly. What for?


    There has been some confusion, apparently, Nichs said evasively. It would put my mind at ease if I could count on you telling any that asked for confirmation.


    I suppose theres no harm in telling the truth, Gilbert eded.


    How are you back? his daughter interjected with curiosity illuminating her eyes. We kept hearing that the Order was destroyed at Lake Myr.


    Very nearly so, the archer admitted. We kept cool heads though, retreated. Crossed the Weolcans, marched west and retook the city from the north.


    Bulls beer, Gilbert eximed. You crossed the mountains?


    Two weeks of snow and rock, Nichs assented. Was hard, I tell you. Men died.


    But you took the city, Ellen pointed out, her eyes shining. Nobody thought that would happen. Its been a month, everybody said it would never happen. Nobody could ever take the walls of Middanhal, they said.


    It wasnt easy either, Nichs said. But we did with hooks and rope in the middle of the night. Me and twenty others, my mate Quentin among them, we snuck onto the walls and opened the gatehouse.


    Its like a story from the songs, Ellen said with admiration.


    I suppose, Nichs replied, shuffling his feet and casting his eyes down.


    But its certain? Gilbert asked insistently. The city is safe? The Order has taken it?


    We fought through the night, but yes, Nichs told them. The gates, the Citadel, we control it all. Youre safe.


    Thank the Seven and Eighth, Gilbert exhaled, wiping his brow. Perhaps I can open up for business. Oh, I must make ready, he said distracted, getting up and disappearing inside.


    What happens next though? Ellen asked, her fair features crossed with concern. Theyll be back to attack us, wont they? With no king or heir, all the jarls will want to rule here.


    No need to worry, Nichs assured her, squeezing her hand. Were here now. After the mountains andst night, defending this city is nothing, he imed with a smile.


    Youre staying here to defend us? Ellen asked. Not going to the moors after all.


    The armys ce is here, Nichs nodded. Protecting this city is more important than anything. Were not going anywhere.


    Good, Ellen smiled, prompting Nichs to retract his hand and nce elsewhere with a blush.


    ~~~~


    After his visit, Nichs returned to the Citadel; the journey back was easier since great progress had been made in cleaning the city. He entered the southern courtyard a little hesitantly, examining each of the kingthanes milling about; none of them was the fearsome Berimund, however.


    Where youve been? Quentin asked, materialising by his side. Why did you leave? You arent safe on your own with that big oaf around.


    Its fine, Nichs muttered. Just had to go see somebody.


    Looks like we got all the more reason to split, his friend said quietly. Who knows if that madman is going toe back. From what I hear, hes not the type to keep his anger in check.


    I think itll be fine, Nichs replied. Lord Adalbrand will protect me.


    Quentin sent him a suspicious nce. You trust him to keep you safe? Have you been licking salt?


    He seems to take honour and duty very importantly, Nichs countered. And Im one of his soldiers.


    Nichs, whats going on? Quentin asked with a frown. Youre not turning pale on me, are you?


    Look, I just dont quite know anymore, Nichs said haltingly.


    We had an agreement! Quentin eximed, prompting Nichs to hush him. In through one gate, out through the other, back to the moors.


    A lot has changed, Nichs argued.


    Like what? Is Tom less dead? Is the chance of you and me being dead any less? Quentin asked disdainfully.


    People depend on us! Nichs said forcefully. Look, we lost Tom in the crossing, and it was terrible. But he was a soldier like you and me. We cant me ourmander that soldiers died. This is war, he tried to argue.


    Unnecessarily, Quentin hissed. Tom died unnecessarily. They could have let us go with the others, return to Hthiod. We were so close by the border. All three of us could have been home by now.


    And all of us could have died fighting at Tothmor instead of Middanhal, Nichs retorted. Besides, the lieutenant was right. If you and I hadnt been there to kill the guardsst night, would the attack have gone the way it did? Were the best archers in this army. We made it possible.


    I dont believe it, Quentin shook his head. We agreed to leave.


    And if you want to, I wont stop you, Nichs told him. But I cant. My ce is here.


    Quentin did not answer immediately but stared at his friend with a scowl and tight lips. If I leave, where will you find another to put up with you? I got to stay, dont I, he said at length.


    Thanks, Nichs said, wrinkling the corner of his mouth upwards.


    Dont mention it. I mean that, dont. I am already regretting it, Quentin said sourly. Come on, some of these scales want to hear how you made that shot, the one that passed an inch next to Sir Richards cheek. They wont believe me, well have to give them a demonstration.


    Grabbing his bow staff, Nichs followed his friend into the courtyard.


    ~~~~


    On the morning of his return to the Citadel, Brand was moving through the various wings. He encountered a number of noblemen and noblewomen as well as their servants, many of whom expressed gratitude as they saw his Order surcoat and by his spurs knew he was newly arrived. Brand curtly nodded to them as he passed by, his mind upied. He reached the quarters that had belonged to him and Arndis but found only her handmaiden. Jenny, he called out.


    Milord! she eximed in surprise. Youre back.


    Is my sister here? In the Citadel? he asked.


    Forgive me, she is not. I have not seen her since all this trouble began, Jenny said apologetically.


    She has been a hostage? Brand continued.


    I fear so, milord.


    Well, the city is under our control. She will be returning soon, no doubt, Brand assured himself.


    Milord! came a mans voice from outside.


    Brand stepped outside the chamber and saw a soldier moving down the corridor. Yes?


    Captain requested your presence in his chambers, the guard exined.


    Lead on, Brand nodded.


    Moving from courtside to the Orders side of the Citadel, Brand eventually reached the quarters of the captain of the Citadel. The guard opened the door for him, revealing that besides Theobald, three other men were also present, Richard, Theodoric, and Berimund.


    Lord Adalbrand, Theobald said gruffly, moving to his side and extending his hand. Richard tells me I should feel indebted to you for returning the city to me.


    I did my duty, Brand said simply, grasping the other man by the wrist. I can guess why you might have sought my presence here, he continued with a nce towards Berimund, but first I should like to enquire about the hostages. I presume they have been freed by now? Are they on their way here?


    They are in fact why we are gathered, Theobald answered, and Richard insisted you would be present for this discussion. Lord Berimund came to me earlier with the same question as you, and he also desired to take part in our council.


    Brand shot Berimund a surprised look. By all means, the squire said, extending his hand in an invitational gesture.


    The hostages have been held in Isarns house ever since the feast, Theobald exined. They remain there still in bondage.


    I directed two hundred men to secure the eastern city quarters, including that location, Brand said frowning. I was not told that they had failed.


    I ordered them to fall back, Theodoric said.


    Why? On what authority did youmand soldiers of the Order? Brand asked sharply, whipping his head to stare at the jarl.


    The authority of reason, Theodoric bit back. Once I saw the Citadel was still in Order hands, I realised the hostages would be kept in Isarns stronghold in the city. If we had gone through with the attack as you wanted, they would have killed their captives in retaliation.


    Not if we had seized the ce before they knew what was happening, Brand said in anger. We had surprise on our side, we would have overwhelmed them! You threw that away, he added bitterly.


    The jarl did as he did out of concern for the captives, Theobald broke through. We are here to discuss how to best see them freed.


    If given free passage out of the city, I am sure the remaining Isarn forces will dly leave the hostages behind. It is a fair trade, Theodoric argued.


    And if Jarl Isarn is in that house? Brand asked forcefully. Will you let him walk out of this city to continue this war?


    He is not, Richard inserted. I interrogated some of the prisoners. The jarl is in the North, gathering reinforcements.


    He must have left someone in charge of the city in his absence, Brand considered.


    His son, Isenwald, Richard answered.


    Then we cannot negotiate, Brand said decisively.


    What? Theodoric burst out. The boy is a moron and hardly valuable to the other side. He let this city be taken, by the gods! We can only gain if we send him back and they give him newmand.


    He is Jarl Isarns heir, Brand said with a clenched jaw. An important piece on the board. He is leverage, a prisoner of utmost value to us.


    He is right, Richard muttered. We will be thought of as fools if we let Isenharts eldest son escape our grasp. He might be used to bargain with. It will be a blow to Isarns morale knowing their heir is our captive.


    So how would you do this? Theobald asked. They will be waiting for us now.


    Indeed, Brand said, sending Theodoric an angry look. If we attack outright, they will surely kill the hostages. We will need a ploy.


    Perhaps something could still be obtained through negotiations. If we  Theodoric spoke, but Brand raised a hand in a silencing gesture without even looking at the jarl.


    We need uniforms. Undamaged ones from our prisoners. We disguise twenty, thirty men of our own and send them in flight towards the Isarn house, pursued by soldiers in Order surcoats. Upon approach, the Order soldiers retreat. Isarn opens the gate to allow their own men to escape into safe haven. Once inside, we strike down the guards, keep the gate open, and allow our other men in Order cloth to follow, Brand exined.


    Hah, bold n! Richard eximed. I will lead the charge, naturally.


    This is insane, Theodoric argued. You will get all the hostages killed!


    I fear this one will have to be mine, Sir Richard, Brand said, ignoring the jarl. You are well known after the solstice games, and their guards may recognise you before the gate is opened.


    I like this n less, Richard grumbled.


    Is this usible, though? contemted Theobald, the captain. Will they be duped in such a manner?


    The longer we wait, the less usible it bes, Brand admitted. We must do it now. While it still seems reasonable that some of their own might have escaped the battle in the city.


    You all agree to this? Theodoric said incredulously, his gaze shifting from man to man. Lord Berimund, speak, he implored thest person in the room.


    I will go with you, Berimund broke his silence. The kingthanes are the most suited warriors for such a skirmish. I will find thirty of those unwounded for you.


    For the second time, Brand gave Berimund a surprised look. May I ask why?


    There are people held in that house who are my responsibility, Berimund murmured. It is my duty to see them freed.


    Forgive me that I am sceptic, Brand said in a voice that held no apologetic tone. Given our previous encounters, I shall need more weighty arguments before I walk into battle with you at my back.


    I am a kingthane! Berimund almost roared. I am sworn to defend the blood of Sigvard. While the House of Adal may be gone, I am not released from my oath. Rest easy, young Arnling, he continued, contempt dripping over upon pronunciation of Brands house. You will find no more stalwart a defender than me. Regardless of my personal feelings, I would suffer a thousand torments before I see your eyes closed or those of your sisters.


    There was silence after this outburst. Eventually, Brand nodded slightly. Well then, he said, sounding satisfied, go find your men. We will meet in the courtyard anon. Berimund did not speak in reply but simply inclined his head and departed.


    You insist on this? Theodoric eximed. You will risk the lives of everyone simply to have your way?


    I will risk it because I must, Brand said coldly. You forced my hand, Jarl Theodstan, when you uwfully assumedmand over Order soldiers. I have no further time to waste, he added. Nodding his head to Richard and Theobald, he swiftly left.


    You are not going to interfere? Theodoric implored the other two men in the room. You have the authority, stop this!


    Theodoric, Richard said brusquely, thed is right. This war is led by the Order, not by you. Stand down. With those words, Richard left at a brisk pace, leaving the jarl to stare in disbelief at his margrave.


    ~~~~


    Within the hour, arge band of soldiers was gathered in the eastern part of Middanhal. After Theodorics interference, the Order soldiers had not ventured inside these quarters but kept a perimeter instead. It was on the edge of this that up towards a hundred soldiers stood. Seventy of them wore the ck Order surcoats while thirty of them wore stolen Isarn surcoats, including Brand.


    Make some noise for us, Brand instructed Graulf, who stood among the Order soldiers. Wait a few moments and then pursue us. Once you are within arrow range, you retreat and keep your distance. Make it seem safe for them to open the gate. When we are inside, you storm forward.


    Very well, milord, Graulf said, turning towards his men. Remember, boys, once were inside, dont kill those without helmets, he grinned. Now make some sound! hemanded, and the soldiers began striking their swords and shields together.


    The kingthanes in their stolen attire followed Brand around the corner and ran down the street towards the Isarnpound, soon pursued by the Order soldiers with murderous intent. Approaching the gate, Brand called out to them. Gods, man, open the gate! Theyre hot on our heels! On the estate walls, more and more Isarn soldiers began to appear. Some had bows with them and shot arrows at the pursuers; witnessing this, the Order soldiers halted and retreated out of range, allowing the distance between pursued and pursuers to grow. Open the gate, damn you! Brand repeated as they came close.


    As the great doors opened, the soldiers hurried inside. Thest of them lingered in the opening, however, keeping the gate from being closed. Without wasting a further moment, Brand removed his helmet. Thank you, he uttered as he used the object as a missile, hurling it at the closest man; then he drew his sword. Around him, the kingthanes did likewise, adhering to the agreed signal. Fighting erupted as the defenders realised they had been fooled; helmeted versus bareheaded soldiers in the same surcoats exchanged blows, and the Isarn soldiers came streaming from every ce to surround the intruders and press them back against the gate.


    For a precarious moment, it seemed as if the kingthanes might be pushed back; then Graulf arrived with the Order soldiers, roaring their battle cry, which prompted a surge forward and a chaotic skirmish to ensue across the courtyard.


    ~~~~


    They are fighting, Arndis eximed from her post at the window.


    Again? Who is attacking the city, do you think? Eleanor asked.


    No, here! Arndis stressed. Not the city, here! They are attacking the house!


    Theodwyn and Eleanor rushed over to the window, pressing their faces against the ss. How strange, Theodwyn mumbled. They are all Isarn soldiers fighting each other. Is this a mutiny?


    No, Arndis said with a smile dawning on her face. It is a trick. They are Order soldiers in disguise, she exined with her eyes fixed on the warriors who had removed their headgear.


    How can you tell? Eleanor asked, straining her eyes.


    Because the one by the gate, leading the attack, is my brother, Arndis said happily. Brand is alive, and he ising for me. Below them in the courtyard, they witnessed the fight continue.


    ~~~~


    Anarchy reigned outside along with confusion. The defenders had more numbers, but the fact that some of the attackers wore the same surcoat as themselves caught many unawares. Furthermore, the kingthanes were in their element fighting hand-to-hand, and although the Isarn household troops were well trained, they simply could not measure up. Slowly, the attackers were gaining the upper hand.


    A shift came as the doors to the house burst open and issued forth the remaining thanes led by Ulfrik. Elite warriors themselves, they were a better match for the kingthanes, and Ulfrik himself was fearsome in a fight; his axe clove shields and rendered flesh with impunity. His cold eyes fell upon Brand, who was using one hand to fight with his sword and the other to direct his soldiers; recognising an enemymander, Ulfrik charged forward with his axe raised high.


    As Ulfriks weapon came bearing down, its descent was disturbed by another weapon shing it aside; hitherto oblivious to the danger, Brand turned and saw that Berimund had brought his own axe to the fray and now stood like a wall between the enemy thane and the dragonborn.


    Each measuring their counterpart, Ulfrik and Berimund circled each other; it was bear against bear, axe against axe. With a roar, Ulfrik swung a blow that would sever a mans throat. Berimund fell to one knee and the axe passed above his head harmlessly; carried by momentum, Ulfrik could not halt its arc soon enough to defend himself, and Berimund struck his own weapon forward into Ulfriks leg.


    Due to his position and the awkward swing, the axe did not go deep; the worst of the blow was taken by the thanes greave. Yet blood was drawn, and Ulfrik howled in pain as he retreated a step. Another swing, this time more testing, another evasion from Berimund. Despite his size, the captain of the kingthanes was swift as a falcon, and he retaliated each time with a blow that hit Ulfrik. This dance continued, and although Berimund could only ce minor hits on his enemy, they tallied up; soon, Ulfrik was bleeding from many wounds. His strength was being sapped, while Berimund stood with ice-cold fury in his eyes, untouched and unyielding.


    With a snarl, Ulfrik turned and fled. His action caught Berimund by surprise, who lost the chance of pursuit; the captain of Isarn retreated up the steps to the main entrance, followed by some of his thanes.


    Bar the doors! Ulfrik sneered once inside. Some of the thanes that had gone with him did as ordered. Alerted by the sounds of battle, more and more people were streaming towards the entrance hall, including Isenwald.


    What  is going  on? the young man asked.


    They are finally attacking here, Ulfrik uttered. Blood was trickling down his forehead and into his eye; with a frustrated grunt, he threw his helmet away and wiped his brow free. Cannot say what took them so long, but I know what to do. Stay here, do not open the doors. Ernulf, he barked at the nearest thane, with me!


    Without dy, he leapt up the stairs towards the upper floors where the hostages were kept. Start cutting heads off, Ulfrik instructed Ernulf, and throw them out the window. Keep at it until they retreat, he said harshly, and they separated; Ernulf went towards the nearest room, while Ulfrik moved down the hall to start their bloody work elsewhere.


    ~~~~


    They are being pushed back, Arndis said jubnt. They are losing. The three women were glued to their observation post, watching as the kingthanes and Order soldiers were slowly gaining ground. Their tion was cut short by a terrible shriek.


    That came from inside, Eleanor said, biting her lip. But the fighting is still outside.


    That sounded like a womans voice, Theodwyn remarked darkly.


    From their position, none of the women could see a window to the east being broken open from the inside. However, when two heads were thrown outside tond in the courtyard, belonging to a woman and a small child, waves of nausea could be seen on their expressions.


    They are killing us, Arndis breathed. Heavy footsteps could be heard thundering down the hall.


    Stand ready, Eleanor said sharply. I have been through worse. Keep your heads cool, shemanded the other women as she nced at the door; on the drawer next to it, the flowers in the vase had long since died.


    ~~~~


    The doors upstairs were all locked, and whichever guard held the keys had vanished. Ulfrik was not deterred, however. Ernulf had started from one end of the hall and so Ulfrik ran down its length and chose another room. Swiftly, he smashed the lock on the door into pieces with his axe.


    Pushing what remained open with his boot, Ulfrik saw two women standing by a window. One, d in ck, looked at him defiantly; the other woman was the dragonborn that had embarrassed him weeks earlier. With his mouth curling upwards, Ulfrik stepped inside and lifted his axe.


    As soon as he was past the door, Eleanor emerged and crashed a vase down on the back of his unprotected head. The blow sent him hurling forward, dropping his axe as hended on all fours. With a well-aimed kick that defied what her dress was tailored to allow, Arndis brought her heel against Ulfriks head and sent him tumbling on his back. Theodwyn meanwhile grabbed his axe and raised it with some effort.


    Lie still, Theodwyn hissed as Ulfrik stirred.


    You are a woman, Ulfrik growled. Do not make meugh.


    Quickly, Theodwyn ced the axe ready at Ulfriks exposed throat. When I was nine, my father had me kill a chicken. He said I should know how it felt. All these years, I thought he was mad, she said with a sweet smile. Now lie still, she added with steel in her voice.


    Other screams could be heard again. They have not stopped, Eleanor expressed with anguish. Arndis eyes darkened and, reaching a decision, she stormed away. Arndis! Eleanor called out after her, but to no avail.


    Running down the hallway, Arndis closed her eyes as she ran past the open doors and reached the stairway. Making the journey down in several leaps, she reached the entrance hall and found Isenwald and his remaining soldiers forming ranks and preparing to defend the doors. Outside, the sounds of battle could be heard, deafening all else.


    Mydy, it  is not safe, Isenwald began to speak as he saw Arndis; she in turn steered directly towards him and grabbed the edges of his surcoat.


    If you want me dead, do it yourself! she screamed at him. And if my blood has any power, then I curse you with all its strength! A curse on House Isarn for shedding innocent blood!


    Mydy, Isenwald said bewildered. I  do not wish  you harm. Please return upstairs.


    Then why are your thanes killing all the prisoners! Arndis retorted with tears of frustration in her eyes.


    ncing towards the stairway in the direction Ulfrik and Ernulf had disappeared, Isenwald frowned; he reached his hands up to gently take hold of Arndis wrists and make her release her hold on him. You lot, hemanded, freeing one hand to gesture at a handful of his men. Ensure the safety of our guests. Kill my thanes if they attempt to harm them. The soldiers exchanged nces of confusion. Understood? Isenwald yelled, and they hastily departed. Open the doors, Isenwald ordered afterwards, turning towards the entrance to the house. Again, the soldiers hesitated. Open the doors, you fools, he shouted, and they finallyplied.


    As the doors opened, they revealed the scores of men still fighting. Isenwald ran outside, raising his open hands high. Stop fighting, he roared louder than he had ever spoken in his life. Men of Isarn,y down your arms!


    Uncertainty spread like ripples in water from where Isenwald stood until it sank in; one by one, the Isarn soldiers lowered their weapons and eventually dropped them. Who  is yourmander? Isenwald asked the nearest Order soldier.


    I am, Brand stated, stepping forward.


    Isenwald approached him, unbuckling his sword belt. He knelt and presented the sheathed sword to Brand. On behalf  of my father, Jarl  Isenhart  of  Isarn, I surrender his forces, Isenwald dered.


    With a nod, Brand epted the sword and the surrender with his free hand. Round them up, he said over his shoulder to his men. Keep their soldiers here, but bring this one to the Citadel. Make sure the hostages are safe.


    If Brand had intended to say more, such words became stuck in his throat; a shape wearing a dress came out of the house to stand on the steps, lookingpletely out of ce; a flower amidst a desert of blood and war. Dropping both Isenwalds sheathed and his own naked sword, Brand closed the distance with a few long strides and embraced his sister tightly.

 Chapter 44: Knights and Jarls

    Chapter 44: Knights and Jarls


    Knights and Jarls


    Middanhal


    After the council had been held concerning the fate of the hostages, Theodoric left the northern side of the Citadel and walked courtside. If he had walked to the edge of the inner castle, he would have seen Brand and the kingthanes prepare for their deception and assault upon the Isarn house; the jarl of Theodstan remained inwards, however, and sought out his former quarters. Entering, he found them quiet and abandoned. Anyone here? Holwyn? he asked, closing the door behind him.


    Milord? a voice answered. From one of the chambers, Holwine appeared wearing a smile.


    The jarl closed the distance between them and kissed his servant. With his hands, he framed the face belonging to the object of his affections and spoke with a voice brimming with concern. Are you well? Unharmed?


    Holwine kept her smile and removed the cap that kept her long locks and true nature hidden. I am well, milord, though I feared the worst. The bastards outside, they imed that you had been defeated at Lake Myr. I thought She did notplete the sentence.


    It happened thus, but it did not stop us, Theodoric assured her. At least for now things are in order. How have you been here?


    It has been some interesting weeks, Holwine said slowly. I admit, I never thought I would be weary of dressing in mens clothes, but the ruse can grow tiresome.


    It is better this way, Theodoric told her. If you dressed ording to your true appearance, you would find it much harder to carry out your tasks.


    The tasks you bestow on me, the woman spoke with a coy look. I carry out your will, not mine. But worry not, milord, she continued, tugging her hair into ce under her cap. I shall y my part for as long as I must, whatever shape it takes.


    I have no doubt, Theodoric smiled, cing another kiss on her lips. Now you must tell me what I have missed.


    I think you know better than I, milord, Holwine admitted. I have not left this castle for weeks. What of your sister? And Holebert. Have they not been freed yet?


    Theodoric shook his head. They remain captives at the Isarn house. At least that is what I suspect. I had hoped to be able to negotiate for their release, but I am foiled by hotspurs and novices, he spoke bitterly.


    Theodoric, Holwine said cautiously. What is going on?


    As we speak, a young squire with little knowledge of war is preparing to assault Isarns house, the jarl grimaced.


    How did he acquire such amand?


    Richard follows his every advice to the point that this squire, Adalbrand, is inmand, not Richard. Everything we have done has been his thought carried out. Crossing the Weolcans, attacking Middanhal, and now endangering all the lives of the hostages, Theodoric spoke ranting.


    You crossed the mountains? Holwine said impressed. And attacked Middanhal straight after?


    We did, Theodoric said grimly. And costly it was too. Our army is much diminished in size.


    But it worked, Holwine pointed out. No one would have believed that the Order could retake the capital so swiftly.


    True, the jarl was forced to admit. I am not arguing results, only risk. Everything this Adalbrand does carries immense danger. Sooner orter, he will overstep. He has been fortunate that no real obstacle stood in his way here. Taking this city from Isenwald the halfwit is not surprising, but what if Athelstan had been here? What will happen when our young hotspur wishes to fight Athelstan and his inexperience leads to a crushing defeat?


    So what do we do? asked Holwine.


    Richard is out of my reach, Theodoric spected, but if I can make Theobald see reason, perhaps something can be done. He is my kinsman after all, however distantly. That is a concern forter, however. For now, I must ept that Theodwyns fate is in that upstarts hands. Gods, I will make Adalbrand regret his arrogance if he returns from this attack and she does not, the jarl swore while biting his lip.


    Come, Holwine said kindly, taking the jarls hand to pull him towards the door. Let us find a vantage point to observe the courtyard. We will know the moment they return and whether Lady Theodwyn is with them. Meanwhile, you may listen and pay suitable admiration to tales of my exploits while I was trapped inside this ce.


    ~~~~


    It was not long after that news spread of the fight at the Isarn house and the return of the kingthanes to the Citadel. Already before they reached the fortress, soldiers stopped their work to watch the procession of the warriors and the freed hostages. As tidings were shouted that the city was now fully under Order control, many curiousmoners dared to leave their homes and join the spectators. Soon, cries of joy and admiration were heard as the people showered their gratitude on kingthanes and Order soldiers alike.


    Reaching the Citadel, Brand led the procession into the courtyard. It was impossible to say who exactly began; such detail was soon lost in the ensuing noise. The only certainty was that someone began the shout, speaking now ancient words, Sigvards blood, Sigvards blood, and soon the chant rose to a mour. Fist beating chest, the soldiers roared loudly as Brand passed by. His expression was neutral, and he gave no clear sign of delight nor displeasure; he simply acknowledged the men by inclining his head towards them in each direction as he led his sister inside. From one of the windows overlooking the courtyard, Theodoric watched with an expression of unbridled concern.


    ~~~~


    Quite an ordeal, Theodoric said as he was once again reunited with his sister and they had returned to their old quarters in the Citadel. The jarl hesitated slightly before he posed a question. How many of the hostages died in the attack?


    At least three, Theodwyn replied. Four, I suppose it would be more correct to say.


    How so? her brother questioned.


    Thedy Richilde and her son were in, Theodwyn exined. But she was also with child.


    Theodorics expression became contorted with sorrow. What a tragedy, he expressed at length. I do not envy the man who shall break such tidings to Ingmond. Losing his wife and child  children, the jarl corrected himself. I knew the attack was dangerous. I knew we should have negotiated rather than force our way through like thick-headed louts.


    It is another list to Isenharts misdeeds, Theodwyn agreed, though I wonder if it could have ended in any way but blood. The captain of his thanes, the woman shuddered. I would im not much rattles me, but his eyes felt like the chill of death.


    He is in chains now, Theodoric said in a reassuring voice. His days are done. The jarl waited a moment before he spoke again. Who was the fourth victim? You mentioned four.


    Lord Jaunis, Theodwyn told her brother.


    This made Theodoric lean back in his seat. I wonder if that was on purpose or coincidence. They certainly hit the marks high when they began executing their prisoners.


    I know, Theodwyn nodded. Ingmonds wife and children, Valerians father-inw. The South will never forgive the House of Isarn this.


    Indeed not, Theodoric assented. How is Holebert? he asked next. The servant in question was in the other room, his bruises and marks being attended to by his own sister.


    They handled him a bit rough, the brutes, Theodwyn told her brother. But the norns came and tended to his wounds, and they look to have healed. Mind you, I did not see him since the first evening. We have been kept isted. On most matters even about this very city, I would wager you know as much as I do.


    I have heard about Sir Roderic, Theodoric said. They say it was the captains refusal to open the castle gates that prompted the knight marshal to be executed. It seemed tactless to ask the captain whether such was true, he added dryly.


    The captain did right, Theodwyn said with disdain. The knight marshal was spineless. At the first threat he caved to Isenhart and signed whatever was ced in front of him.


    What did he sign? Theodoric frowned.


    A document calling for an extraordinary assembly of the Adalthing, Theodwyn said with a wave.


    Of course, Theodoric considered, that was Isenharts n. Assemble the Thing, force it to dere him the new heir.


    I told Sir Roderic not to sign, but he bowed to pressure immediately, Theodwyn sneered.


    Where is that document now? Theodoric asked with sudden urgency.


    Unless Isenhart brought it with him, it remains in the house, I presume, his sister answered.


    Swiftly Theodoric rose and crossed the room to open a chamber door, revealing Holwine and Holebert behind it. The former was removing bandages from thetter and examining the damaged skin beneath. Holwyn, the jarl called out. I have a task for you. It cannot be dyed.


    As milordmands, Holwine said with a sarcastic smile. What do you require?


    I need you to find a way into Isarns house. You must find a document, most likely in the jarls study. It authorises an extraordinary assembly of the Adalthing, and it will be signed by Sir Roderic, our former dragonlord.


    As you wish, Holwine said and bowed her head slightly. Disguising her head under her cap, she patted her brothers shoulder affectionately and disappeared.


    I should leave as well, Theodoric mentioned. The others are meeting to discuss our next strategy now that the city is fully under our control. Holebert, he added, ncing through the door opening at his servant. Take the contents of my purse and buy yourself something to drink. You have earned it.


    Yes, milord, Holebert grinned, adjusting his bandages.


    I am taking a bath, regardless of what weekday it is, Theodwyn dered. I deserve as much.


    That you do, sister dear, Theodoric said with a faint smile, squeezing her shoulder before he left.


    ~~~~


    Unlike the previous council, which had been rather improvised and taken ce in the captains quarters, the various leaders met in the proper ce designated for such purpose. It was the council room of the Order, where less than two months ago, the lord marshal had nned the campaign in Hthiod, though none of the same people was present.


    When Theodoric arrived, the others had already assembled, and seated at the end was Richard. Although not the nominal leader of the Order, he was currently themander of its remaining forces, and there was none left with higher authority. By one hand sat Theobald, captain of the Citadel; by the other was Brand, first lieutenant and thus in practice the second-inmand of the Order forces in Adalrik even as his actual rank was merely squire. Next to Theobald sat Fionn, the only other remaining knight in the realm, while Berimund had taken the seat next to Brand.


    Theodoric, Theobald greeted him. This is Sir Fionn, who has been my right hand in defending this castle. At ourst meeting, he was upied attacking the north-western barricades, destroying the enemy with his usual fervour.


    Was not hard, Fionn remarked casually after having exchanged nods with Theodoric. They could only block the main streets, after all. Moved around them through the alleys and hit them hard, he grinned as Theodoric took a seat next to him.


    Now that the city has been restored to us, Theobald continued, we should discuss what to do next. Isarn will obviously seek to retake it.


    How are our forces looking? Richard asked.


    I would estimate we have some fifteen hundred men battle ready, Theobald stated.


    Not much to hold the city with, Fionn acknowledged. Not against a prolonged siege. Sir Athelstan may be preupied south, but we cannot stop the jarl from attacking us north.


    We have his son and heir as prisoner, Brand pointed out. That might give him pause.


    Hearing this, Theodoric gave a hollowughter. You underestimate Isenharts ruthlessness. Hisughter ended and his voice grew sharp. After all, did not your attack against Isarns estate in this city cause the deaths of Lady Richilde, her son, her unborn child, and Lord Jaunis?


    A tragedy to be sure  Brand began to say.


    This does not give you pause? None of you? Theodoric interrupted, ncing around at the others, and several of them looked away ufortably.


    We all grieve their loss, Theodoric, Theobald said with a disarming gesture. Their deaths will not be forgotten, the captain continued with a nce towards Brand. But our most pressing concern is the Isarn armying from the north. That must remain the subject of our debate. As Sir Fionn mentioned, we need more troops. When may we expect reinforcements from Theodstan?


    The muster has only just begun, Theodoric muttered. It will be at least another week before it is close topletion.


    How long will it take them to march to Middanhal from Cragstan? Theobald asked.


    If forced, perhaps four to five days, the jarl estimated.


    While your men were originally ordered to march once the conscription was done, perhaps we should increase the pace, Brand considered, keeping his gaze locked on Theodoric. May I suggest that you send a messenger to Cragstan at once, my lord jarl. Tell whatever troops you have avable now to immediately march for the capital with all possible speed. It is better to have half your forces avable once Jarl Isarn arrives than have all your forces arrive toote, the squire said pointedly.


    You may hold that opinion, Theodoric said with assumed civility.


    He is right, Richard said gruffly. We need your men today rather than tomorrow, Theodoric.


    Indeed. We cannot risk Middanhal falling to the rebels again, Theobald warned.


    The jarl nced around the room and saw the remaining men nodding in agreement. I shall give the order as soon as our council is done, Theodoric said slowly in a reluctant tone.


    What about Sir Athelstan? asked Fionn. He is the greater danger, in my opinion.


    Most of us here are personally familiar with the Heohlond campaign, Theobald said, ncing at Richard. Gods, I am reminded of it every time I have to limp somewhere, and that hignder spear, he said sardonically. None of us are in doubt of what Sir Athelstan is capable of.


    Thankfully, we have excellent knowledge of his whereabouts, Richard grinned. Athelstan has been kind enough to send word to Middanhal of his victories. After defeating Marcaster, Athelstan has entered Valesnds to invade the jarldom from the south. Our enemy is in the other end of the realm, deeply entrenched and surrounded by Vales forces. It will hardly be possible for him to stroll out of that situation.


    Do not underestimate Athelstans ability to extricate his forces, Brand warned. But in any case, Jarl Isarn will be here long before his brother. Defeating his army on the battlefield should be our first concern. Once the jarl has been beaten back to Silfrisarn, we may turn our thoughts towards Athelstan.


    Defeat? Theodoric eximed. You intend more than defending this city? You would seek to actively engage Isenharts army thates now from the north, despite the fact that we will most likely face superior numbers?


    Of course, Brand frowned. We will not win this war by simply waiting and enduring a siege.


    Why not? Theodoric spoke in a questioning tone of voice. Jarl Vale will not be idle. He will gather his forces and sooner orter put an end to this. We need only buy him time, deprive Athelstan of reinforcements and support.


    Brand gave a derisiveughter. Of course, you see no fault in letting this war y out between the jarls. You are not a member of the Order. I sometimes forget given your presence in our councils and your inclinations towardsmanding Order forces.


    What is your point? Theodoric asked acerbically.


    That this war is the Orders responsibility. Jarl Vale will y his part ording to what the Ordermands him, and it will be the Order that defeats Jarl Isarn, not another jarl, Brand said with an equally venomous voice.


    The Order? Theodoric asked and leaned forward with a sudden jerk. Or you?


    In this matter, I see no difference, Brand said coldly; unlike the jarl, he remained seated and merely raised his eyes to meet Theodorics gaze.


    My lord knights, you see no danger in this line of thinking? Theodoric eximed, turning to look at Richard, Theobald, and Fionn.


    Calm yourself, Theodoric, Theobald finally said, and the jarl leaned back in his seat with reluctance painted on his face. Our young lieutenant is right. It is the Orders foremost duty to maintain the peace of the realms. That is why in times of war, the Order holds authority and not the jarls.


    Furthermore, Fionn added, we cannot risk ending in a situation where the jarl besieges us from the north and his brother from the south. One of Middanhals greatest strengths is that it is impossible to encircle the city and fully enclose it. While I advocate caution going against Sir Athelstan on the field, we cannot endure that heys siege to us without having our northern gate open for reinforcements. Attacking the lesser of two enemies, Jarl Isarn, and driving him back is sound tactical thinking, the knight dered, to which Richard murmured his assent.


    Lord Berimund? Theodoric asked with increasing despair.


    I am not skilled in tactics, the kingthane admitted with a disinterested voice. I ept what they say.


    I see, Theodoric said, stressing both words. You are all agreed then.


    I believe so, Theobald replied. Once forces from Theodstan arrive, we should attack Jarl Isarns army, he summarised, looking at Richard for confirmation, who nodded in agreement.


    We may be severely outnumbered, Theodoric said in warning rather than giving up. I may only be able to bring a few thousand men in time. Even if you can defeat Isenhart, what happens when our losses are so heavy that we cannot defend the city against Athelstan?


    Excellent point, Brand conceded, prompting a surprised look from Theodoric. Which is why we should open the Order for recruitment this very day. Have the town criers announce that we are beginning new conscription.


    The Order already conscripted and filled its banners, Theodoric pointed out with thinly veiled satisfaction. I doubt you will find any left in the city who can be persuaded to join.


    The Order recruited for war in Hthiod, yes, Brand retorted. A distant campaign in another realm against an enemy unknown to the people of Middanhal. This war? he asked rhetorically, answering his own question. We are fighting usurpers who have already once held Middanhal in a tyrannical grip. Did you not see how our men were greeted as we entered the city? My lord jarl, we will not be recruiting men to be soldiers, the squire said with an overbearing voice, we are recruiting them to be heroes.


    There was silence until it was broken by Richardsughter. My lieutenant is right. We start recruiting today. They may not be ready in time to face the jarl Isarn, but they will serve as a decent garrison to defend the city, freeing up our veterans to make mincemeat of Isarn.


    I will alert the town criers, Theobald nodded. The sooner we begin training the better.


    I think that concludes our council, Richard said. I am parched.


    The others nodded and rose from their seats, scrambling the chairs. Do not forget to send word to Cragstan, Brand said mildly, directed at Theodoric. We shall need your men at the earliest possibility. The jarl did not reply with words but simply a grimace that might be interpreted as affirmative.


    ~~~~


    Leaving the council chamber, Theodoric moved through the Citadel to return courtside. His face wore a scowl, and any servants he encountered were quick to vanish from his path. Reaching the quarters he shared with his sister, he stopped outside the doors and looked at one of his thanes standing guard. I need you to procure a horse and ride north, the jarl told his servant. Ride to Cragstan and tell them to march all avable forces to Middanhal now. Immediately, Theodoricmanded, speaking as reluctantly as possible while still actually pronouncing words.


    The thane bowed and left without further dy while Theodoric entered the chambers and went straight for the wine pitcher. Sloshing over his cup as he poured, he downed most of its content. From a nearby couch, Theodwyn watched with a raised eyebrow. Looks like you could use a rxing bath yourself, brother dear, she remarked casually.


    He tied my hands, Theodoric muttered. Forced my move.


    What are you mumbling about? his sister asked.


    I never thought we would seed, he said, turning swiftly to face her. I wanted to keep my forces back, spare them from certain disaster. I never thought that a boy greener than the Alfskog and a drunk like Richard would be the first to conquer Middanhal in centuries! he all but shouted.


    You may want to keep your voice down, Theodwyn warned.


    I was left with no choice, Theodoric continued unabashed. If I do not send my soldiers here, Middanhal may fall and I will be to me. Yet if Imit them to this fight, odds are that they will all perish under hismand!


    What will you do? Theodwyn asked.


    It has already been done, Theodoric said bitterly. I already sent the message. As I said, I had no choice.


    Then spend no further thought on it. You have days to work something out, Theodwyn reminded Theodoric. You should focus your efforts on that rather than gripe in vain.


    You are right, he admitted, growing calmer. Of course. I will think of something.


    There we are, Theodwyn smiled. Much more productive. Now I think I shall lie down. I have not had restful sleep in weeks.


    You and me both, Theodoric muttered, but his sister did not hear; she was already on her way to her chamber.


    ~~~~


    When Brand left the council room, he found both his sergeant and two kingthanes waiting for him. Brand raised an eyebrow looking at Matthew, who had no other answer than an ignorant shrug. As Brand began walking, both sergeant and kingthanes followed him until they reached his quarters; two more kingthanes stood guarding the door. With another puzzled nce, Brand entered the parlour, followed only by Matthew.


    Sister, Brand greeted Arndis with a smile.


    Brother dear, she replied in equal measure and nced behind him at Matthew. She rose from her seat. And this would be? she asked in a kind manner.


    Matthew, my sergeant, Brand introduced. This is thedy Arndis.


    A pleasure, Arndis said with a charming smile.


    Yes, Matthew stammered and gave a deep bow, hiding his blush momentarily.


    Where did you find him? Arndis asked.


    He found me, Brand replied casually, taking a seat and reaching for an apple. Been following me ever since Lake Myr.


    Where are you from, Matthew? Arndis asked in a friendly voice, sitting down as well.


    Here, mdy, Matthew answered, ncing everywhere but at Arndis. Well, not the Citadel, but this town. Other end of it, he managed to exin.


    I see, Arndis said amused. Brand, if he has been through all you have been through, the poor boy must be exhausted. Perhaps you should excuse him?


    Oh, I was not at the fight now, mdy, Matthew was quick to exin. His lordshipmanded me to stay behind, he added with a little disappointment seeping through.


    You are a good sergeant, Matthew, Brand exined while carefully cutting his apple into pieces, but the battle at Isarns house was a fight for kingthanes and knights, not former stable boys with little training. You will have other chances to prove your courage.


    Yes, milord, Matthew replied.


    Regardless, my sister is right. I have no further need for you until we ride out again, Brand told his sergeant. Go to the steward of the Citadel and have him assign you somewhere to sleep. If you tell him I sent you, he should be co-operative. I will send for you again when the timees.


    Yes, milord, Matthew said with a bow. Mdy, he added, bowing before Arndis as well before he left.


    Once alone in the parlour, Arndis turned towards her brother. How did the council go?


    As it should, Brand nodded, putting a small piece of apple in his mouth, chewing and swallowing it before he continued. I had no opposition except from Jarl Theodstan, which was to be expected. He and I have been at odds for some time now.


    A shame, Arndis remarked. His sister was of muchfort to me, and she remains one of my few friends here.


    I shall be grateful to her for that, Brand promised, but do not forget that she had advance knowledge of Jarl Isarns ns, and yet she did not shield you.


    She did suggest I stayed at the Citadel, Arndis argued, though without conviction.


    To little avail, Brand countered. And even the Citadel was not safe. It could easily have gone wrong for us trying to retake the city. You might very well have been a prisoner still.


    Theodwyn did what seemed right to her, Arndis said. She was trying to protect us all, not just me.


    I understand, Brand nodded, but remember the choice she made. It was not you. Beware the siblings of Theodstan, Sister. At the end of the day, we cannot trust others.


    You have my trust, Brother, Arndis assured him. Above all others.


    This prompted a rare, unrestrained, and genuine smile from Brand. I never doubted that.


    Arndis hesitated before she spoke again. At the council, was the subject raised of Lady Richilde or the  the other victims?


    It was mentioned, yes, Brand nodded slightly. The jarl Theodstan, who was against my n from the start, was less tactful about it than you.


    While I am immensely relieved to be free from that ce, Arndis spoke cautiously, I do grieve that it was at such a cost. Not that I me you, Brother, she hurried to add, biting her lip.


    I am to me, Brand interjected in a casual manner, though his voice was not entirely steady. It was my decision to attack, and it was I who convinced the others. Arndis did not speak but simply looked at her brother with a sympathetic expression. I knew there would be a cost to pay from the moment I told Sir Richard to cross the mountains. Hundreds of dead lie on those stony paths with no other burial than what snow winter will bring. Brand raised his eyes to look at his sister. But it is toote to change course. I must see this through, I must end this war. I cannot allow these knights or jarls or even themon soldiers to see me waver. Not until this is finished. If I feed their doubt even a little by showing any myself, they will devour me. This is my own, my only chance to make my name.


    I understand, Arndis nodded. As I said, I trust in everything you do.


    I know, was Brands only reply, but the heavy expression on his face eased slightly.


    There was a slight pause before either spoke again. Now what is this outside our door, Arndis asked abruptly, nodding towards the mentioned object. I went to the bath house and they were simply there, two kingthanes waiting for me, following me without a word. Is this your doing? she asked, ncing at him with yful suspicion.


    In this I am innocent, Brand spoke with a faint smile. I have my own shadows, appearing as unexpected as yours. I suspect Lord Berimund is behind it.


    Their captain, I recall, Arndis nodded. I met him once. That is strange though. I have never heard of the kingthanes protecting any but the royal family.


    There are none left, her brother pointed out. Yet they are thanes, and their life is to protect others. It would seem we are their new choice.


    I cannotin, she admitted. With all that has happened, it is reassuring.


    Good, Brand dered. Now you must excuse me. I feel as if I have not had rest in an age, he confessed and retired to his private chamber. Despite his ims of weariness, however, sleep camete to him.

 Chapter 45: Sharpen the Sword

    Chapter 45: Sharpen the Sword


    Sharpen the Sword


    Middanhal


    The respite for the Order troopssted only a few days. In order to obscure the truth for as long as possible, Richard had deployed a number of scouts to the north to intercept any Isarn soldiers that might approach Middanhal; it was limited how long such a major event could remain unnoticed, however, and once word reached Silfrisarn, the northern army of Isarn marched towards Middanhal. In response, the Order readied itself to ride out and face them.


    The knights had not been idle either in those few days afforded to them. Old veterans and others with skill in arms had been recruited to fill the gaps in the ranks; the remainder of the conscripts, young men too inexperienced to do little else but die in a battle were left behind to garrison the city. In the end, they managed to stretch the Order army to the point where two thousand men stood gathered in the courtyards of the Citadel and upon the Arnsweg, ready for departure. It was less than half of what they could expect to face, but their numbers would double with reinforcements from Theodstan, and spirits were high; the capture of Middanhal had proven that the gods looked upon the Order and its champions with favour.


    Richard and Brand were found ahead of the column that stood ready to march, each mounted on one of the few horses that remained in the Citadel stables. Nearby was Theodoric; since his own troops would bemitted to the army, it was his right to join them in battle. He kept himself at a distance from the Ordermanders, however, and formed his own small band with his thanes.


    We find ourselves here again, Arndis remarked with assumed light-heartedness. She was standing by Brands horse, looking up at her brother.


    This time, the destination is much closer. It will be some days, a week at most, I wager, Brand assured her. He leaned down and spoke his next words with a lowered voice. Take care. The city is lightly garrisoned, and the streets will be unsafe as a result. You should not leave the Citadel, he cautioned her.


    She nced behind her where two kingthanes stood observant. I will be fine, Arndis promised. Reserve your concern for yourself. I shall be most cross if you get hurt.


    Understood, Brand replied with an honest smile. See you soon, Sister. He squeezed her hand before he straightened to sit upright in his saddle. Sir Richard, shall we?


    The knight stretched his neck. Let us, he said with a grin and waved his hand to his bannerman. The ensign waved his banner, giving the signal for the army to begin its march.


    ~~~~


    Meanwhile, the city itself was slowly finding its way back to normal after the battle. The market on the Temple square was opened once more, and the Temple itself was soon receiving its regr number of visitors. The norns andy brothers had their hands full tending to the many wounded, and robes of every colour could be found trawling Lowtown to alleviate the many burdens that the war and upation had struck its inhabitants with. The gates of the city were still closed, however, and none could leave Middanhal. The reason for this was Isenharts presence with his army to the north and Athelstan somewhere to the south with his. As long as there were enemy armies in either direction, the gates would remain shut. What happened next to the beleaguered city, however, none of its defenders had predicted.


    With Richard and Brand gone, leadership of Middanhal and its garrison belonged undisputedly to Theobald; as the only other knight present, Fionn served as an unofficial second-inmand. Two days after the Order army rode out, a messenger sprinted from the southern gate across the city to reach the Citadel and locate the captain with urgent news. Envoys were at the gate demanding to speak with whoever was currently lord of the city, envoys that hade at the head of an army now approaching Middanhal.


    ~~~~


    The banners marching towards the capital were red like any jarl house, but the entwined colour was gold and not ck; the emblem had spiralling suns and not crossed swords. They did not arrive from the eastern branch of the Kingsroad as it split down into southern Adalrik from Middanhal; the soldiers came from the west, Coldharbour, to be precise. As Athelstan invaded Vale, the jarls response had been to shore up the defences of his cities and send his avable soldiers up along the river to Coldharbour along with engineers and materials for siege engines. From here, the army moved towards Middanhal, stretching out like a coiling snake with countless banners and an enormous baggage train; whether it was war or feasts, the customary Vale extravagance was at y.


    At the head of this army rode the jarls nephew and heir, Konstantine, wearing gilded armour and a surcoat stitched with golden threads. By his side rode Arion, more humble in his undyed clerks tunic, and behind them came a score of thanes.


    It feels good to be out, Konstantine remarked, speaking a little haltingly. Having a purpose to move towards, to do.


    Command is natural to you, milord, Arion replied. Suits you as well as that armour.


    You may be right, Konstantine said graciously, shifting his shoulders a little.


    Imagine if you take the city, how it would be when such news reached your father and uncle, Arion continued. Middanhal liberated from the usurpers grasp!


    A smile spread across Konstantines face. Not to mention our entry into the city.


    Oh indeed, Arion quickly assented. People will fall at your feet and call you a hero.


    You think they will? Konstantine asked with curiosity in his voice.


    Definitely. Much preferred to Jarl Isarn, who would force them to bow before him and call him king.


    That false pretender, Konstantine snorted. I would much rather have the peoples adorations freely than forced.


    In that you show wisdom, Arion dered. Of course, a wiser person than Jarl Isarn might have found an even better path.


    Konstantine turned to look at hispanion with a raised eyebrow. Better?


    If you can make people bow to you by their own volition and calling you hero, what would keep you from bing king next? Arion spected. That was the good jarls mistake, the chambein continued. He could only imagine using brute force to gain what he desired, threatening the noblemen into giving him a crown.


    That was his only option though, was it not? Konstantine argued. The Adalthing would never willingly bow before someone like the jarl of Isarn. Only with a sword against their neck, heughed.


    True, true, Arion nodded. Very observant, milord. I suppose the wisest man would know how to be both feared and admired. If people do not bow for one reason, they will for the other.


    I guess, Konstantine frowned. How do you do that?


    In this case, purely specting, Arion said smoothly, many would be grateful towards you and your uncle for freeing the city from Jarl Isarn. Grateful enough to dly see your uncle take the seat that Jarl Isarn sought to usurp. For those who would protest, Arion continued with a shrug, Jarl Isarns n to keep them in line would work just as well for any other jarl controlling the city.


    You think so? Konstantine asked, still frowning.


    As said, merely specting, milord, Arion smiled. Something for your uncle to consider, perhaps, as the jarl.


    I suppose, Konstantine said, sounding uncertain.


    Though, Arion continued, as his heir, it is of course also your duty to always consider what is in his best interests.


    True enough, the young nobleman agreed with a pensive expression.


    ~~~~


    At the end of the second day on its march towards Middanhal, the Vale army made camp as usual. Thergest tent in the centre naturally belonged to Konstantine. He was lying on what could be termed a cot, though far softer than what was usually afforded amander; in his one hand was a bowl of strawberries, which his other hand was feeding him. By a table nearby sat Arion with ink and quill, scribbling on paper.


    Must you do that? Konstantineined as Arion slowly and cautiously scratched the quill against the paper.


    I am to send a report to your  uncle each day, Arion reminded him, hesitating before phrasing himself.


    Yes, yes, I know, Konstantine said irritated. But must you do it in my presence?


    It is custom that themander reads the daily reports, Arion pointed out.


    Who cares, Konstantine said dismissively. Write your reports if you must, but do so elsewhere.


    Milord, Arion bowed and began to gather his things, careful not to disturb the ink already ced on paper.


    Before he could finish, one of the thanes entered. Milord, the warrior said while inclining his head towards Konstantine. A scout returned with news you should hear.


    What is it? Konstantine asked eagerly, sitting up right. Is it the enemy?


    On the contrary, the thane said hesitantly. Enter, hemanded someone outside the tent.


    One of the scouts of the army entered and gave a bow. We found something strange, milord. We were confused by not meeting any Isarn patrols, he began to exin. In the end, we ventured close to Middanhal itself seeking an exnation.


    And? Konstantine said impatiently.


    The banner flying over the gate has the Star upon it, the scout said.


    Impossible, Arion eximed.


    We made sure, came the reply. Their surcoats were Order coats as well.


    What does this mean? Konstantine asked.


    It may be a bit rude to continue with the siege now, the thane remarked dryly.


    Leave us, Arion said harshly, and the thane and scout left the tent.


    So that is it? Konstantine wondered out loud; his face was trapped in an expression of uncertainty. I was not told what to do in this situation.


    None could expect it, Arion dered. Let us not be hasty, milord. Surely you are not in a hurry to be relieved ofmand.


    No, Konstantine mumbled, but I am unsure what to do.


    First we must verify what the scouts im, Arion told him. It would not look well if you simply epted such strange tidings and did nothing further.


    Yes, of course, Konstantine nodded eagerly. A moment passed before he spoke again. How do I do that? he asked.


    Send emissaries tomorrow. If the Order truly and by some wonder has retaken the city, they will wee us. Open the city to us, Im sure. You may march your troops in without a fight and fulfil your unclesmand still, Arion argued with a sly smile.


    Yes, Konstantine nodded slowly. Right. Take control of the city. If they open the gates for us, all the better.


    You disy a mind for stratagems, milord, Arion smiled and bowed his head. Now I will take my leave as intended before this intrusion and finish the letter to your uncle. Let him know that all is well in hand, the chambein dered and left the tent with his writing tools.


    ~~~~


    The day after, envoys sent by Konstantine reached Middanhal. They were a small band; the man riding in front carried a blue banner with a white horse head upon it. The gates were closed, and the guards viewed the approaching riders with distrust and suspicion; archers stood ready to unleash their arrows uponmand.


    Are we sure they are really Vale soldiers? one of the soldiers asked the gate lieutenant. Theyre awfully far north considering rumour says their ownnds are invaded. Could be Isarn mene to investigate.


    It may be a ruse, the lieutenant conceded before he nodded towards the banner with the horsehead. But we must respect the banner of truce. If it turns out they have yed it false, the gods will surely punish them for it. He cleared his throat, raised his voice, and called out. Who approaches?


    I am sent by Lord Konstantine of the House of Vale, nephew and heir to the jarl of Vale, the envoy dered. He brings an army to the aid of Middanhal, seeking to see it free from the clutches of traitors.


    He is toote, then, the lieutenant answered. The Order is quite capable of handling such matters. But given that all loyal noblemen are subject to the Order during times of war, I am sure mymanders will be interested to know of the forces that your master brings.


    My lord came to wage war on the enemy, the emissary exined, not to submit himself to others.


    Such is the nature of authority, the lieutenant countered, it does not rely on the willingness of those beneath it.


    If my lord is to ept your authority, the thane of Vale spoke, he must know who wields it. Who among your numbers can im higher standing than a jarl of the realm?


    Theobald, captain of the Citadel is currently master of the city, came the reply. While not a marshal by office, we give him same respect in their absence. With the lord marshal abroad and the knight marshal dead, Captain Theobald is to be obeyed.


    We had not heard of the knight marshals death, the envoy said. A tragedy, to be sure. However, it is not within my mandate to surrender any authority on behalf of my lord. Nor can such be done to any man less than your captain if he truly deserves the respect you im.


    Then bring your lord here to do so in person, the lieutenant answered, and I shall do likewise.


    The emissaries inclined their heads, turned their horses around and rode back west; the gate lieutenants response was to send one of his soldiers through the city to inform the captain of the Citadel that he was required at the Saltgate.


    ~~~~


    It took several hours for both parties to return with their leaders, but eventually Theobald and Fionn stood on the gatehouse, watching Konstantine approach with Arion and his thanes by his side under the banner of truce.


    This is his lordship Konstantine of the House of Vale, Arion introduced his master with the loud voice necessary to cross the gap between the parties. He has been given full powers by Jarl Valerian of Vale to speak on his behalf and lead his armies. He hase to seek negotiations with the lord of the city, whoever that might be.


    I am not its lord, Theobald replied in the same manner, but I am responsible for its safety. You speak with Theobald, captain of the Citadel.


    We are surprised to know the Order controls the city, Arion spoke. Last we heard, the jarl of Isarn ruled.


    Obviously, much has happened sincest you heard, Theobald answered dryly.


    Apparently, Arion muttered so only Konstantine could hear. In that case, captain, the chambein continued, raising his voice, you will have no qualms opening your gates and letting our soldiers inside to man your walls. That way, they may safeguard the city.


    Theobald nced beyond the small delegation. The vanguard of the Vale army was present, several hundred men; the rest of their army was hidden from sight, however. How many men do you think they have? Theobald asked Fionn by his side.


    If they came here intending to start a siege, and if I know anything about the jarl of Vale, Fionn said gruffly, they will be several thousand. Probably outnumber us four or five to one until Sir Richard returns.


    We are both thinking the same, I take it, Theobald remarked. We let them in, we give them the chance to do exactly what Isarn wanted to do. Clearing his throat, he spoke loudly again. Since this realm is at war, the Order hereby exercises its right to conscript your soldiers and assumemand. Your army will remain outside the city until such time that newmanders appointed by the Order may arrive and take up leadership.


    We will do no such thing! Konstantine eximed outraged. This army marches under the banners of Vale and none others!


    Failure to obey is considered an act of treason, Theobald said coldly with narrowed eyes. Think carefully before you proceed.


    They bluff, Arion stated quietly to Konstantine. All Order forces in Adalrik were either sent east to Hthiod or destroyed at Lake Myr. I do not know how Jarl Isarn managed to lose control of Middanhal to the Citadel garrison, but they cannot have more than a few hundred in the city.


    You are certain? Konstantine asked anxiously.


    Absolutely, Arion nodded. Furthermore, this man is not a marshal. He has no right to make such demands.


    I repeat, Theobald called out as the Vale delegation did not reply, make camp and await further orders. You will relinquishmand of your forces to the Order.


    I do not know, Konstantine admitted, his eyes staring at the closed gate in front of him.


    It is your decision, milord, Arion said calmly. Of course, if you do obey, you need not worry further. With the Order assumingmand of your troops, you will not have to make any further decisions.


    No, Konstantine said. No, not that, he repeated before raising his voice. The House of Vale does not bow so easily. You will open your gates and surrender your forces to our control, the youth demanded, and we will defend the city from the enemy.


    The boy is not too bright, is he, Fionn frowned. He ismitting high treason.


    If his uncle makes himself king like Jarl Isarn wanted to do, who will punish him for his mistake? Theobald growled. This is not a negotiation, the captain yelled. We do not seek nor offer terms. You will submit to the Order or be held ountable.


    I return to my army, but not to submit, Konstantine warned. You have until our siege engines are prepared to change your minds and surrender the city. After that, I promise no mercy.


    I will dly make you a promise, however, Theobald retorted. If you shed one drop of blood from any of my soldiers, you will find the executioners axe against your neck.


    With this final exchange, the delegation turned their horses around and withdrew. I did not make a mistake, did I? Konstantine asked in a weak voice.


    Do not doubt yourself now, Arion reproached him. You have made your decision. Stand by it.


    Inside the walls, the captain and Fionn descended from the gatehouse. Now that it was less urgent, their speed was slow, adjusting for the captains limp. I wonder if this could have gone differently, Theobald pondered.


    Fionn shook his head. We could not allow them to enter the city. Just as with Sir Roderic, your hands were tied.


    I hope the lord marshal agrees when he returns, the captain muttered. Sooner rather thanter would be preferable. Our situation is far too precarious, especially if Jarl Vale now takes matters into his own hands.


    We have enough soldiers to man the walls, Fionn said reassuringly. It will take them days to assemble their siege machinery, and even then, they will find our fortifications formidable. Let theme! the knight dered. My sword is sharp enough for both the jarls of Isarn and Vale.


    Is that so, Theobald said gruffly, though the corner of his mouth wrinkled upwards. You do not think it might grow dull just a little as you ughter your way through the armies of both the North and the South?


    In that case, I have a whetstone, Fionn remarked withughter.


    ~~~~


    The Vale army wasted no time. That same day, they began constructing a siege camp near Middanhal, raising stockades to fully enclose the southern side of the city and keep the defenders hemmed in. Large quantities of timber had been sailed to Coldharbour and brought with the army on wagons for this purpose. The engineers took what remained and began construction of siege weapons, catapults to harass the defenders and siege towers to scale the walls. The Order soldiers watched all these preparations keenly as they made their own. The supplies of arrows in every tower were replenished along with something as simple asrge, hewn stones to be thrown as blunt missiles. The Temple was alerted that the norns andy brothers should expect wounded from the southern walls while bandages and poultices in great numbers were prepared in advance.


    In this manner, the days continued with both sides making ready; as a final act, Theobald ordered the banner of the Star raised on every tower that had not yet seen this done since the retaking of the city. By the end of the third day, the ck banner with the white, seven-pointed star was flown from every pole on the walls as it had done before the uprising. Beyond the walls, the Vale soldierspleted theirst tasks in preparation of the following day when their storm upon the severely outnumbered defenders could begin.

 Chapter 46: A Masterful Play

    Chapter 46: A Masterful y


    A Masterful y


    Valley of Bradon


    The Order army under Richardsmand had marched two days along the north-western Kingsroad until the scouts had shed with their counterparts from Isarn. Both armies had made camp some distance from each other, and on the following day, they had marched out and arrayed their forces in ranks opposite their foe. The area was called Bradon, a slight dent in thendscape sloping downwards to shape a shallow valley. Both forces had made use of this and positioned themselves on a ridge; between them, the terrain gently rolled down from one upied hill and up to the other.


    This was not the only way in which these two enemies had be mirrors of their opponent. Both had formed a full battle line with no troops kept in reserve. The veteran Order soldiers took up the centre of the battle line while the newly arrived reinforcements from Theodstan had been split in two and positioned on the right and left nks; one under Theodoric and the other led by his sergeant, Geberic. The centre of the battle line was to be led by the Ordermanders; they sat on their horses a little further back at the top of the hill, granting them full vision of the prospective battlefield, with their respective sergeants by their sides and their bannermen nearby. Otherwise, there were no horses or cavalry present since Isenhart, his vassals, allies, and thanes had all dismounted to fight among their own lines in the same way Richard intended to do; this was to be an engagement of infantry forces entirely.


    You think they will attack? Brand asked.


    If they nned to, they would have by now, Richard replied.


    Both armies had stared at each other for well over an hour. About a mile separated them, and insults were being hurled across the valley  mostly disparaging remarks concerning the parentage of the other party and usually involving goats or sheep. So far, neither side felt sufficiently infuriated to advance.


    I suppose since we are not going to charge uphill, it would be unreasonable to assume they would, Brand remarked.


    The jarl may not be his brother, but he knows to avoid obvious mistakes, Richard growled. I am going to bring wine if tomorrow promises to be the same.


    Perhaps not, Brand contemted. If we can offer them the illusion of a fair battle, I imagine Jarl Isarn is the sort to embrace such a fight.


    Probably, Richard frowned, but how do we go about making the illusion without actually giving them a fair battle? By the looks of it, we are outnumbered.


    You would be a better judge of that than me, Brand conceded. How do you estimate their numbers?


    Richard squinted, straining his eyes. Judging by their lines and banners, I would guess about five thousand men. Probably some hundreds more.


    Outnumbered by a thousand, Brand mumbled. Unpleasant, but not unreasonable to defeat.


    You got any thoughts? the knight asked.


    Maybe, Brand considered. You have better eyes, Matthew. Tell me if I am right that the banners of Isarn, Deorcliff, Farbjarg, and Grenwold are all concentrated around the centre.


    I cant say, milord, Matthew replied. I see many banners, but I do not know the colours for each of the houses.


    The jarls margraves as well, Brand guessed. He has few of his vassals on the nks with the levies.


    Wants to keep his allies close, Richard snorted. Especially now their families are no longer hostages.


    Standard doctrine, Brand said in contemtion. The jarl knows the fundamentals ofmand, but as you said, he is not his brother.


    Doctrine? Matthew said questioningly.


    Jarl Isarn has ced himself in the centre of his battle line along with his thanes, his allies, and their best warriors. Probably his household troops as well. It is considered the wisest way to array your forces, Brand exined to his sergeant.


    Oh. Howe? Matthew continued.


    Your sergeant talks a lot, Richard muttered, though his tone of voice was not harsh.


    I encourage it, Brand said with a hint of a smile. If I can exin something to him, I know that I have understood it in full myself. He turned towards Matthew to borate. To win a battle, you must destroy the enemys battle line. Usually, you gain an edge on one of the nks and begin to envelop it, pressing it from the side and cutting your way into it, Brand said, using gestures to entuate his exnations.


    Outnumbering the enemy makes this more probable if you can stretch your battle line long enough that the edges can march directly forward and swing into your opponent, Brand continued. The other way to win is by pushing through the centre of the enemy battle line. A tactic favoured by those with inferior numbers. If we can punch a gap into Jarl Isarns forces and effectively separate his army into two detached forces, we may crush each half at our leisure.


    And to prevent this, Matthew said slowly while his mind was absorbing this information, the jarl uses his best soldiers to protect his centre.


    Exactly, Brand nodded. Just as we have ced our Order soldiers in the middle and the conscripts from Theodstan on our nks. Although the squires voice trailed off as he frowned. Our veterans would make short work of those peasant levies on Jarl Isarns nks, he argued, speaking to himself.


    They would, Richard assented, but our own peasants from Theodstan would not fare well against the jarls thanes, household troops, and those other traitorous lords that fight with him.


    But I can prevent that, Brand continued, still speaking quietly.


    Say again? the knight by his side requested.


    We fight the jarl tomorrow, Brand stated. You shall have your battle then.


    Good, Richard grinned. Not here, I hope?


    Over there, Brand replied, pointing towards the t fields just east of their position.


    Good, good, Richard nodded.


    What happens now? Matthew asked.


    Now both armies stare at the other until it gets dark, Brand said patiently. Then we retreat to camp.


    In response, Richard dug out a carrot from a saddlebag. I hate waiting, he growled, taking a bite.


    ~~~~


    Nothing further happened until it grew dark and both armies returned to their respective camps. The men carried out the various tasks necessary; food was distributed, new sentinels posted, weapons stored in a manner allowing for easy retrieval. What required oversight, Richard and his sergeant handled; such would typically be the duty of the first lieutenant, but instead, Brand sat in his tent with a chessboard in front of him. He had lined the pieces up in an unusual manner, contradictory to how the game was yed. Two battle lines were formed. Both had pawns on their nks; one army had its centre made up of knights, the other had the pieces for a jarl and several thanes.


    With slow moments and a thoughtful expression, Brand moved the pieces back and forth. His battle lines shed, pawns were removed in equal measure; he returned the battle lines to their starting positions, rearranged the pieces, and pushed them against each other again.


    Milord, I have brought food for you, Matthew said loudly as he entered the tent. Brand did not reply or look but merely pointed at a small table. After cing the bowl of stew, Matthew approached the chessboard, holding his own meal in his hands. What are you doing, milord?


    Not now, Brand warned, raising a finger in the air without removing his eyes from the board. I must think without interruptions.


    Matthew backed out of the tent as quietly as he could. He walked around camp a bit until he found a ce by a fire. Taking a seat, he began eating his food while listening to the other soldiers. He was easily the youngest, though it varied by how muchpared to the others; some were his senior by a few years, some by decades. Too busy emptying his bowl, Matthew did not speak much, but he listened wide-eyed to the sordid tales told around the fire.


    An hourter, Matthew returned to his tent and saw that Brand had fallen asleep. Nearby, his stew stood untouched. The boy nced around before grabbing the full bowl. While eating, his eyes nced at the chessboard, and he moved to give it a closer look.


    The battle line representing the Isarn forces was unchanged except that it was uneven in some ces. The Order ranks werepletely changed, however, with the knights on the nks and the pawns in the centre. Matthew frowned and tried to look at the chessboard from different angles, but no light of understanding illuminated his face. Finally, he finished eating and used a small bowl of water to clean himself. Unsping his cloak, he wrapped it around himself as a nket andy down on his cot.


    ~~~~


    The following day, the Order army marched out on the fields east of the valley. Once their scouts reported this back, the Isarn army followed suit and was arrayed opposite its enemy. The Order had stretched out their battle line and thinned their ranks to avoid being enveloped easily; the Isarn ranks stood many men deeper inparison.


    You think this will work? Richard asked of Brand. As yesterday, the twomanders and their small retinue were clustered a small distance behind their soldiers.


    Only one way to find out, Brand admitted. You are prepared?


    Richard nodded. They will attack any moment now. Let us get to it.


    The knight dismounted, leaving his horse tied to a sapling that was making its first, frail attempts of growing into a great oak. His sergeant did the same; while Richard walked west to the right nk, Graulf went east to the left nk. As the knight reached his men, he drew his sword and raised it up high for all to see; in response, the soldiers roared and moured his name.


    A mile to the north stood the Isarn army. A signal was given, and they began a slow march forward, making sure that their battle line remained intact and no part of it advanced ahead of the others. At first, the Order army did not respond. Brand sat on his horse, surveying the field. At length, he turned to his nearby bannerman and nodded. The soldier inclined his head and swung his banner pole back and forth.


    Upon seeing this, the nks of the Order army detached from the centre and began to advance on their own; they moved slightly outwards as well, extending the gap between them. Their progress was slow, giving the enemy sufficient time to witness this unusual advance and take measures.


    For a while, Isenharts troops continued marching forward as before. When only half a mile separated his army from the advancing nks, he issued a new signal. Mirroring the movements of their enemy, Isenharts nks likewise separated from the main army and continued marching on their own. Both east and west, Isarn had the stronger numbers; thinning his centre, the jarl ensured that on either nk, his men held the advantage by several hundreds.


    Brand gave an overbearing smile upon seeing this. Ahead of him, Theodoric stood behind his own troops. The Order army had switched its positions and ced the levies from Theodstan in the centre; the nks now advancing each consisted of about a thousand Order veterans. The jarl Theodoric turned to gaze questioningly at Brand, but the young lieutenant shook his head. With a look that could be interpreted as impatient or frustrated, Theodoric turned away again.


    What is going on? Matthew dared to ask.


    Jarl Isarn has more soldiers than us. He is sending each of his nks to fight ours alone, thinking that superior numbers will crush them both. Then he can reform his battle line and advance upon our remaining troops, Brand exined.


    If that is going to happen, then why did you tell the nks to advance, milord? Matthew said puzzled.


    It will not happen. The jarls weakest troops are now facing our strongest. Once they sh, Brand borated, they will cut the enemy into pieces and shatter his nks.


    But wont he just send his remaining soldiers into battle? Matthew questioned. He cant just stand back and watch his soldiers lose, not when his army is bigger than ours.


    Probably the jarl is thinking simrly, Brand gave another smile. Soon, however, he will realise that he cannot. The centre of his battle line is locked out ofbat, and he cannot advance. He can only stand and watch his nks be destroyed, the lieutenant said; his tone of voice gained a harsh undercurrent in thest sentence.


    I dont understand, Matthew frowned.


    Look at the field, Brand instructed. When our nks meet, left and right, they will fight. If the jarl moves his centre forward, it will be embroiled in the battle already taking ce. His centre will be stretched so thin, it is left vulnerable. We may then move our own centre forward, reform our battle line, and punch through theirs.


    But why doesnt he attack us instead? Matthew argued. Have his centre engage ours.


    Because, Brand exined, he would have to move past our nks to reach us. We might with ease detach the rear ranks from our nks and have them attack his forces from behind.


    That would apply to us as well, though, wouldnt it? Matthew asked. If we do any of those things, if we move forward, we be vulnerable.


    That is true, Brand nodded. Both our centre and theirs are locked out ofbat.


    So how is it an advantage? Matthew frowned.


    Because our best warriors are fighting, Brand said patiently, while his are not.


    What will happen now? Matthew asked. The smell of blood had reached them by now; the sound of men screaming and metal singing filled the air.


    Starting slowly but soon with increasing swiftness, Isarns nks will crumble. I imagine at that point, or perhaps even before, the jarl will lose patience and order his men to attack, Brand predicted. They will attempt to reinforce their nks, but to no avail. Meanwhile, our forces from Theodstan will advance in response and push through the enemy centre. Isarns battle line will disintegrate, and they will take flight.


    This is more exciting than any solstice games I have ever watched, Matthew eximed, leaning forward in his saddle. By his side, Brand curled his lips upwards briefly before his expression turned serious, his eyes fixed on the battlefield in front of them. In one hand, he clutched a king piece from a chess set.


    ~~~~


    Half an hour passed where Isenhart kept reins on his impatience; then, watching in frustration as his nks were pushed back, he gave themand for his remaining soldiers to advance. They did not march but ran forward, yelling battle cries. Some of them moved into the rear ranks of their suffering brethren, halting their retreat and reinforcing them; the remainder filled the gap between the nks. Filled with battle lust, many of them left their ce in the centre of the battle line, however, and moved to the sides to attack to the Order soldiers.


    Brand had already given themand to Theodoric to advance; with the Isarn centre spread out, the men of Theodstan surged forward against it. They were less ustomed to war than the thanes and household soldiers they faced among the Isarn ranks, but the enemy lines had grown thin; the sheer ferocity of Theodstans onught pushed through, disrupting their formation. A chaotic skirmish erupted, but the Isarn soldiers were too separate, bing surrounded in many ces and cut down by the spears of Theodstan. Slowly, inexorably, Isarns battle line was being torn apart in many ces.


    How did you know this would happen? Matthew asked with wide eyes.


    Brand gave a vague smile. Think of it as a veryplicated game of chess.


    I triedst night, Matthew frowned, but it didnt work for me.


    It is not that different, Brand exined. In chess, you have full knowledge of the board and the pieces. You know all their positions, which movements each is capable of doing. This allows you to calcte every possible oue.


    But this is different, his young sergeant argued. These are not different pieces, they are all men. They fight and move the same. And a chessboard is t. There are no hills that suddenly change everything.


    It is moreplicated, Brand repeated himself, but not that different. The board may be different. Hills, forests, rivers, they restrict movement or change how the pieces fight. The only difference is that more factors are at y. More things to consider.


    But, Matthew said, his frown deepening if possible, soldiers are soldiers. In chess, a pawn moves one step, a jarl moves as far as it wants. So do thanes, just across. And a pawn can kill a jarl as long as it makes the attack. If a peasant tried to kill a jarl, he would just die himself.


    Fine, Brandughed a little, I grant that theparison is not perfect. But I would hold that it is valid. Think of each unit of soldiers as a different piece. Some are pawns such as the peasant levies on Jarl Isarns nks. Some are knights, mounted and fast with unique movements. Just like chess pieces, soldiers have different abilities, allowing for different oues.


    But I know what the pieces can do because you told me the rules, Matthew countered. Who told you what the different soldiers can do?


    Nobody did, Brand smiled vaguely, which is why amander must observe and take many things into ount. How well trained, well equipped, well disciplined, well fed are his troops? Those of the enemy? The aim for a captain should be to gain all possible knowledge about his own forces and those opposing him. Study thendscape and understand the terrainpletely. If you possess full knowledge, you can predict every possibility.


    Still sounds like sorcery, Matthew mumbled. There arent rules on the battlefield, though, he continued. In chess, both yers agree on the rules. But in battle, wouldnt amander break all rules just as long as it meant he won?


    There are rules, Brand insisted. They have not been agreed upon, and they may change, but rules apply nheless. Cavalry charging heavy, disciplined infantry ready for them will fail to make impact. A battle line losing its centre will crumble swiftly and suffer defeat. A trained knight in armour, fighting on foot, can defeat eight untrained recruits and is worth more on the field. These are all rules of battle that are in effect, forged by the nature of war.


    Who told you about these rules? Matthew asked.


    Same man who taught me chess, Brand said in a low voice. They did not speak further but watched the battle unfold; with every soldier in both armies engaged, the din of battle became a roar, swallowing all other sounds.


    ~~~~


    Despite the tactical advantage possessed by the Order army, victory did note readily. The centre of Isarns army consisted of the jarl and his personal attendants as well as his allies and their thanes; many of them were strong warriors equipped with weapons and armour made of Nordsteel. Against them, the conscripts of Theodstan were inferior. Their initial assault had forced gaps into the thin ranks of the Isarn centre, but they struggled to take full advantage of this. In response, Athelbold led a charge from the western nk, followed by the closestndgraves and their thanes, in an attempt to reach his cousin the jarl on the other side and reconnect their lines. The soldiers from Theodstan were hard pressed to withstand this; Athelbold was a ferocious warrior as were the thanes by his side.


    Theodoric was fighting in the thick of this; with his own thanes surrounding him, they strengthened the lines of his wavering soldiers wherever they went. Inevitably, Theodorics group shed with Athelbolds as onemander tried to keep the Isarn soldiers separate while the other attempted to reform their lines.


    The deciding factor came from elsewhere. Richard had been fighting on the nk since the battle started; constantly, never weary, he moved where his soldiers were most pressed, and he gave them relief through his presence and de. Short and stocky, the margrave of Alwood was nheless quick on his feet and at home in the midst of battle. During the battle when the remaining forces on both sides joined the fight, pressure had increased temporarily with new assaults by fresh Isarn soldiers; then the Orders own reinforcements, the soldiers from Theodstan, had reached them, reforming the battle line and granting them reprieve.


    Eventually, Richard had a moment to look up and see that the banner of Isarn was not far from him. Surmising that this meant the presence of the jarl, the margrave gave a roar, renewed the grip on his de, and surged forward. Rallying his men around him, he led an assault forward on the already pressed Isarn soldiers. Isenhart was almost within reach of Richards sword when the northerners lost theirst resolve.


    One shield at first, one more, and then many others were thrown aside in favour of flight. The wave of fleeing Isarn soldiers swept their jarl with them as his thanes ensured he was not left behind. Cursing under his breath, Richard had to abandon his attempt to reach Isenhart; around him, however, his men raised their weapons and voices in jubtion. Outnumbered and after suffering many hardships, the Order had achieved its first victory on the field of battle in this war.

 Chapter 47: Wolf and Lion

    Chapter 47: Wolf and Lion


    Wolf and Lion


    Middanhal


    After the battle of Bradon, the Order army did not give pursuit. Middanhal was lightly defended in their absence, and the agreement had been to avoid prolonging this state. While they might chase the fleeing Isarn soldiers all the way to Silfrisarn, they were not equipped for a siege. They had bought themselves time and kept their northern gate open, allowing for further reinforcements from Theodstan; now they could also devote their full attention on the South and the true danger, incarnate in themander Athelstan.


    Even so, the Order army could not immediately return; with the battle done, there were bodies to burn, weapons to collect, and a watch had to be set to ensure the defeated Isarn army did not make a surprise return. While the bulk of the army remained to carry out these duties, Brand took the vanguard of the army and marched towards the capital without dy.


    Spirits were high among the soldiers as could be expected after defeating their enemy, and the journey back to Middanhal seemed to pass by without effort. None of them expected what news awaited them as the city came in sight.


    ~~~~


    At the time of the battle of Bradon, the garrison at Middanhal had prepared themselves to defend the city against Konstantine and the army of Vale. The defenders had manned the towers and fortifications, readied themselves against arrows, fire, stones, siege towers, and what else might be thrown against them. Theobald had limped around the gatehouse while Fionn had been marching up and down the walls impatiently; however, nothing happened.


    No assault wasmenced; not a single arrow was let loose. In fact, those with the sharpest eyes looked towards the siege camp and its palisades and found no sign of life. Fionn returned to the gatehouse to confer with Theobald, and they had a hushed exchange, discussing what this meant. Finally, one of the longbowmen called out and gained their attention; the archers had been left to defend the city rather than march with Richard and Brand to battle. Captain, the heathman spoke. I see movement by the stockades.


    The two knights marched over to the parapet and strained their eyes, but neither man was able to discern anything with certainty. What do you see? the captain asked the keen-eyed longbowman. Are they preparing an attack?


    Hard to tell, milord. There is one thing I can determine, but I am not sure what to make of it, the archer rted.


    Well, speak, Fionnmanded gruffly.


    From what I can tell, the soldier spoke hesitantly, they are not wearing red and gold. I see ck colour on their red surcoats.


    Theobald and Fionn exchanged looks. Athelstan, thetter finally said, speaking the name as a premonition or a curse.


    ~~~~


    Eventually the defenders of Middanhal could piece the story together. Athelstan had not remained in the South while Vale moved their armies to assault the capital; either he had guessed their intent or, just as likely, discovered their troop movements. Athelstans army had marched north and conducted a raid on the siege camp, driving Konstantines army on the retreat. They had been forced to leave their materials behind, however. All of it had fallen into Athelstans hands, including all siege machinery, catapults, towers,dders, and more.


    It did not take long for Athelstan to understand the situation either; while his original intention might have been to raise the siege of Middanhal, thinking it was still under his nephews control, the truth of the matter soon dawned upon him. Within hours, the defenders could witness Isarn soldiers man the palisades and prepare the siege machinery. The garrison was made to suffer some probing attacks from catapults hurling stones against the wall as a test to measure length and arch of the shots made.


    The next day, the first real assaultmenced. It did not involve the siege towers; they would not have been useful against the walls of Middanhal. The Vale engineers had not known this when constructing them, but the defences of the capital had been fortified against such engines. Thendscape sloped upwards, requiring enormous strength to push the towers forward; ditches had been dug that furthermore made the terrain uneven. The wheels upon any approaching siege towers would thus be stuck. All of this was known to Athelstan, however.


    Therefore, when the Isarn army attacked, they did so with siegedders to scale the outer walls while catapults bombarded the defenders. Neither side had many archers to speak of, but the garrison did have the contingent of longbowmen conscripted for the campaign in Hthiod, and their arrows struck with gruesome effect. While in many ces the Isarn soldiers managed to gain a foothold on the outer walls, it was always costly since the defenders could continue to strike from their higher position on the inner walls and towers.


    After three hours, Athelstan signalled a retreat. It was not an admission of defeat; his men pulled back in good order, in some ces recovering theirdders and bringing them back to camp. He had kept his most experienced troops back and gained valuable insight as to the positions of the garrison and its weaknesses.


    On the morrow, another assault followed in the same vein as the day before; both sides lost men and neither gained a clear advantage. The original garrison of five hundred was swiftly dwindling, however; a little over half remained to man the extensive fortifications while Athelstan, the defenders presumed, still had many thousand at his disposal. Furthermore, his men had been throughbat before, whereas the majority of the defenders were fresh recruits and now had their first taste of battle; this above all meant that the garrison had high casualties, losing soldiers who had neither skill nor knowledge to survive the fighting.


    ~~~~


    On the third day of the siege, Athelstan was ready. He used the two siege towers constructed by the Vale army by having one moved to the far east and the other to the far west; while they could never reach the walls and be an actual threat, the defenders feared his stratagems to such a degree, they feltpelled to respond. Forces were pulled from the central towers to support those furthest away, leaving the gatehouse and surrounding fortifications lightly defended. At this point, Athelstan signalled for the actual assault to begin.


    A force of several hundred riders emerged from behind the stockade where they had stood hidden; they rode in such a formation that ten riders held one of the great siegedders as they rode forth, five on either side. It was a most difficult feat to achieve on horseback, being able to keep trotting at the same pace, staying in formation, and holding thedder, and it could be surmised that they had practised this thest few days.


    Their efforts now yielded result; so very swiftly, the Isarn riders reached the walls long before the defenders could finish raising rms and any reinforcements could be called back from the outer towers. Without dy, the attackers dismounted and ced the siegedders into position, scaling the walls around the gatehouse; behind them, their infantry crossed the field to take part in the assault and stand prepared for when the gate was conquered and could be opened.


    Only one thing stood in the way of Middanhal falling into Athelstans grasp; Theobald, captain of the Citadel had taken position on the gatehouse along with all kingthanes in fighting condition. They were only about twenty in number, but each thane fought with the strength of a knight; Berimund, their captain whose axe fell with the fury of Hamaring upon its edge, was equal to many. As for Theobald himself, he had won the grand fight at the solstice games an unequalled number of times, and he had at one time been acknowledged as the greatest warrior in all the realms; the de of the North they once called him. That had been before a battle in Heohlond had shed his leg open, making it impossible for him to ride and forcing him to limp when he wished to walk.


    Such frailty was forgotten in the heat of battle; Berimund stood on the outer wall west of the gatehouse, and Theobald took the position east. While Berimund was fearsome and evoked the image of an axe-wielding bear, Theobald despite his weakness fought like a lion with all the skill, training, and experience that made the knights of Adal the most feared enemies to face.


    Leading the assault was Eumund, young yet equally deadly with a de. Among the Isarn army, none stood a better warrior than him; like his father and his uncle, he fuelled the rumours that the sons of Isarn possessed wolf blood. Soon he found himself standing before Theobald, the youthful hotspur against the scarred greybeard. Behind Theobald was the door that led into the gatehouse and onto the inner walls; outside on the ground below, the Isarn army moured for the gate to be opened that they might storm into the city.


    Eumund struck forward, attacking Theobald; the young knight was trained by Richard of Alwood and had all the makings of a master swordsman to rival Alfbrand and Alfmod themselves. Yet despite weariness, age, wounds, Theobald was no less; he defended himself with utmost cunning, retreating into the doorway and hindering Eumunds room for manoeuvres.


    Back and forth they lunged at each other, but neither fell for the others advances. Cries of warning came next, but not from the soldiers defending the walls; on the contrary, it was the attackers calling out. The soldiers lured away to the outmost towers had finally returned and now came to reinforce the gatehouse. Suddenly hard pressed from both sides, the assault began to falter.


    Eumund cast a bitter nce at Theobald, who replied with a grim smile; the young scion of Isarn swiftly turned away and ran towards thedders. Yelling loudly for his men to retreat, they abandoned their attack and hurried down from the walls; those too slow were cut down without hesitation by the defenders.


    The Order soldiers cheered loudly at having stood fast as they watched the retreat of the Isarn soldiers; they had ovee the first serious threat thrown against them. Four days had passed since Athelstans arrival, and it had been three days of suffering assaults. As fate would have it, it was on the eve of this day that Brand and the vanguard of the Order army finally returned to Middanhal.


    ~~~~


    A soldier had run ahead to proim the victory at Bradon, and the vanguards entry into the city was made in triumph and apanied by the adoration of the inhabitants. The Order soldiers had not yet heard about what had transpired in their absence, however, and so they whispered and wondered to know what tarnished the joy of the citizens.


    Reaching the courtyard, many stood ready to wee the conquering heroes home. Brand slid down from his horse and exchanged embraces with his sister, and many others were greeted simrly among both nobleborn andmonborn.


    You seem whole and hale, Arndis smiled, examining her brothers condition with a scrutinizing gaze.


    Indeed, Brand replied, wearing the same expression. All went as it should.


    Good, Arndis exhaled deeply. Nearby stood her ever-present protectors sent by Berimund, and more now joined to stand near Brand and ensure his safety. I feel better knowing the kingthanes watch over you. I dislike that they could not ride with you on this asion.


    Protecting us while we are at the Citadel is one thing, Brand told her. Leaving the boundaries of the city sends a statement the good captain might not be prepared to make. Do not let it concern you. I have a whole army protecting me, he added with a smile and led her by the arm towards the entrance of the buildings. As if to entuate his words, the nearby Order soldiers struck their fists against chest and murmured Sigvards blood as the pair passed by. What of here? Brand asked as they walked inside. Considering the news of victory and our northern nk secured, the city seems oppressed rather than relieved.


    You have not been told? I thought Captain Theobald had sent messengers to you long ago. They are most anxious to see your army return, Arndis revealed. The city is under siege from the south.


    I have returned with the vanguard only, Brand exined. His messengers must have reached the army camp and not encountered us. What has happened?


    Events took a strange turn while you were away, Arndis confessed hesitantly. You should go see the captain of the Citadel at once. He will know the truthpared to rumours, which is all I have knowledge of.


    ~~~~


    When Theobald had returned from the walls, Brand approached him in his quarters. Captain, Brand spoke out to gain his attention.


    Theobald, dirty and worn from fighting with many cuts, removed his sword belt. My lord, Theobald replied before his servant pulled his surcoat over his head. I am to congratte you, I hear.


    And I am to extend same to you, Brand replied. Jarl Isarn has been sent on his heels back to Silfrisarn while I am told you have valiantly defended the city against his brother.


    For a few days now, Theobald nodded. As the weight of his mail armour disappeared, he sank down into a chair and epted a mug of ale from his servant. First the Vale boy, Konstantine, showed up and demanded to enter the city. When I refused, he began preparations for a siege. Just in time for Athelstan to appear, seize his equipment, and use it against us, the captain spoke with a bitter voice. I do not fear an unproven boy, but I could do without having Athelstan at my gates, fully prepared for a siege.


    These walls have withstood all frontal assaults since they were built, Brand reassured him. They cannot be taken save by deceit.


    The way you and Richard did, Theobald acknowledged with raised eyebrows.


    As we did, Brand nodded. The soldiers I have brought with me will reinforce your garrison until Sir Richard arrives with the main army and our reinforcements from Theodstan. More troops from the jarldom should be on their way as well. In a few days, we will have equal numbers to Athelstan.


    A few days may be too long, the captain said grimly. Even with the men you brought, we have few warriors of experience left. The new recruits do notst long.


    Should the worst happen and the walls are breached, Brand considered, we retreat beyond the Mihtea. The Arnsbridge is easy to defend, and it will cost them dearly to try and cross the river by any means, the tall lieutenant spoke casually. If need be, we may retreat further to the Citadel and hold the northern fortifications, keeping the gate open. We can certainly hold out a few days until Sir Richard arrives.


    From his seat, Theobald looked up at Brand. That abandons Lowtown to the enemy. Hardly eptable.


    I do not see how that would impair us, Brand frowned. That will not cost us troops or resources.


    The destruction and death caused by fighting in the streets will be disastrous, Theobald eximed. The city has already endured too much of that. Even worse, if Athelstan has to withdraw, he may well set Lowtown on fire to keep us from harrying his retreat, Theobald said impatiently.


    That maye to pass, but it is not certain, Brand argued.


    I will not risk it, Theobald dered. We cannot allow Athelstan to seize any part of the city.


    You would defend the walls to thest man, Brand said questioningly.


    I would, Theobald answered forcefully.


    What then, when that does not suffice? Brand retorted. You said yourself weck soldiers with experience. We must keep our heads cool and spare our troops. We must be prepared to fall back beyond the Arnsbridge and abandon Lowtown if it bes untenable to defend the walls.


    You would sacrifice the lower city? Theobald asked incredulously, rising to his feet. You would dly risk it burning or destroyed, tens of thousands left homeless, and who knows how many might perish?


    I would sacrifice half the city to save the other half rather than lose it all, Brand said without emotion. This is war, captain. There are no easy choices. We must be prepared to risk and lose whatever is necessary in order to preserve what will bring us victory.


    I know what war is, Theobald all but shouted. He took a few limping steps towards Brand, leaning his head back a bit to stare into the other mans face. I do not need a boy to remind me of risk and loss!


    If you say so, captain, Brand spoke in a cold voice. The walls are yours to defend as you see fit, your garrison is yours tomand. But the men ced under mymand, he said with emphasis on thest two words, will take their orders from me.


    You do not have authority here, Theobald argued. You are not even a knight! I am captain of the Citadel, the city is my responsibility to defend, he said with a seething voice. Every soldier here will do as Imand, defend the city as I order them to!


    You may very well believe that, Brand told the captain, stepping towards the door. But I suggest you ask the soldiers first before you make such assumptions. You may find that they disagree, the lieutenant finished with an unimpressed expression and left the room.


    ~~~~


    When Brand approached his quarters with two kingthanes behind as had be customary, he saw a shape waiting outside his door. It was short like a child, dressed in colourful clothes. Brand frowned slightly as the other person discovered him and all but leapt towards the squire and his protectors. The two kingthanes tensed for a moment, hands reaching for weapons at the sudden movement. As another moment passed, it was revealed to belong to the jester Baldric, and both squire and thanes rxed.


    Baldric greets you, the short man said with an overlyplicated bow. He trembles to be in the presence of such lordly might.


    He may still himself, Brand replied dryly, since to him I am but a squire. Unless Baldric is considering joining the Star? Every man will be needed at the walls, the young man smiled sardonically.


    s, one as short as Baldric may never reach for the stars, the fool said sadly. His lordship is kind, but Baldric knows better. He has known many descended from the first dragon, and Baldric can tell when he is in the presence of one, the fool added with a sly look.


    I will take that as apliment, Brand acknowledged curtly. Was there any other reason you sought to speak with me? I am somewhat weary.


    Of course, of course, Baldric hurried to say, almost dancing around as if incapable of standing still for too long. Baldric merely wished to say that many among court, this one included, were hoping to see this young drake dining courtside.


    I probably will, Brand remarked, since my sister will be taking her meals there. But tell me, why does this one care? the squire asked, emphasising thest three words of the sentence.


    Baldric has seen many things, the jester exined, weaving his hands around in the air and twisting his shoulders. But that a dragon should hatch from an eagles egg, now that is the strangest yet. Nheless, here we are, a silver spur with kingthanes at his back and an army at his call. Maybe such a silver spur could use a cupbearer for his thirst or a fool for his amusement, Baldric finished, and the squire gave him a scrutinising look, inspecting him with a curious nce.


    I make no such demands, nor have I such requirements, Brand dered.


    Of course, of course, Baldric nodded eagerly. Nothing said, nothing imed.


    I may be too upied with the siege to observe any meal routines, the squire added.


    All will understand the burden ofmand and your absence, Baldric said sagely.


    Very well. Depending on the circumstances, perhaps you may find me in the great hall. I bid you farewell, Brand finished, giving a short nod before moving past the jester to enter his rooms. The kingthanes remained outside, taking up position and ncing at Baldric. He in turn gave a spirited smile and leapt away.


    ~~~~


    The following morning, the garrison marched onto the southern walls and prepared to be assaulted by the Isarn forces. Nothing immediate was within sight, however; none of the enemy soldiers could be spotted on the stockade built to enclose the city. Anxious, the soldiers kept their eyes glued towards any sign of movement, Brand, Theobald, and Fionn among them. One stood immobile gazing south, one hobbled around a little, restless, and the third paced around impatiently.


    An hour passed until atst Theobald ordered scouts to investigate. It was a hard task to give, considering they only dared spare a handful of men, and they would be walking directly into territory held by the enemy. Eventually, some among the more experienced soldiers, men-at-arms all, volunteered for the task, and they were let outside the gate.


    It was impossible to hide in the opennd between the city walls and the siege camp. The scouts had been given some of the few avable horses, and they could inly be seen riding towards the stockade. From the gatehouse and the towers, theirrades watched them anxiously. Yet no arrows rained down on them as they reached the palisades, no spears suddenly appeared, no javelins were thrown.


    The stockade was not tall; one of the scouts moved to stand on the back of his horse and was able to climb over the wooden stakes. The defenders remaining in the city, those with the sharpest eyes, could see him move back and forth, gazing everywhere. At length he leaned over to speak to the other scouts, ostensibly reporting his findings. Finally, he moved towards the gate and opened it, letting his brethren inside the stockade. From there, they disappeared out of view, and the garrison had no choice but to wait until when or if the scouts returned.


    ~~~~


    In the end, it took hours before any word reached Middanhal again. Some of the defenders had been sent home to rest; others like Theobald, Brand, and Fionn had taken their meal in the gatehouse and received the scouts immediately upon their return.


    There were many details for the outriders to rte; all the strands of the story they had finally managed to weave together. With an impatient noise from Theobald to prompt them, however, the scouts cut to the core of the matter. They had found the siege camp abandoned as well as what remained of the main camp of the Isarn army a few miles away. Only objects too heavy to transport with ease such as the catapults had been left behind. After searching beyond, they eventually encountered the reason for this.


    The advance party of an army from Vale had been spotted far to the west, in the direction of Coldharbour. The main bulk was still beyond immediate reach, apparently, but presumably, Athelstans scouts had discovered what Theobalds had as well. Rather than risk bing trapped between Vales army and the garrison of Middanhal, suffering the same fate that Athelstan had unleashed upon Konstantine by assaulting his scattered troops conducting a siege, themander of Isarns army had chosen to withdraw and consider his options.


    Well, Fionn remarked prosaically, leaning against one of the crions while biting into a pod of peas, as long as they keep scaring each other away, defending the city will be easy.


    Take a strong body of men, Theobald began to speak, grab some axes, ride out, and chop those catapults into pieces. There is no need to leave them intact for whoever intends to besiege us next, the captainmanded Fionn, who nodded in response.


    The siege towers? Brand said questioningly, to which the captain shook his head.


    They are within range of our archers. Better to tempt the enemy to retrieve them and make it costly, Theobald argued.


    As you prefer, Brand deferred, though the vague smile on his lips belied his subservient attitude.


    How long until Richard returns? the captain asked.


    The day after tomorrow at the earliest. Possibly the day after that, Brand estimated. Though if your messengers reached him, he will strive to make haste, no doubt.


    If we are lucky, Vale and Athelstan will destroy each other for us, Theobald pondered.


    If we are lucky, Brand repeated; he gave a small, courteous nod and departed, followed as always by two kingthanes.


    ~~~~


    A handful of miles away, the Isarn army had made camp for the night. There were twice as many sentries posted as usual, and scouts on swift horses roamed the area despite the darkness, ensuring that no movements would go unnoticed. Although Athelstan had defeated the Vale army once before, he took no chances; especially not this close to Middanhal with the risk that its garrison might be involved in any battle or possibly raid his camp while fighting the Vale army.


    In his tent, Athelstan was studying a map of Adalrik. asionally his fingers moved over the terrain, hovering over the tnds just south of the capital before the terrain became hilly between the rivers Cudrican and Sureste. Eumund was also present, but he was more agitated, sitting restless in his seat. We were so close, he spoke bitterly, clenching his hand into a fist. I was on the wall, I was almost in the gatehouse itself.


    There is no point in dwelling on it, Athelstan told him without looking up. What matters is the situation now rather than what it might have been.


    I still do not understand how the Order could have retaken the city, Eumund grumbled. We left a thousand men or so, how could the garrison at the Citadel have overwhelmed them?


    That is a question we will have answered once the city is ours once more. Again, retain your focus on the situation at hand, Athelstan cautioned his nephew.


    Very well, Eumund eded. Should we attack the Vale army? It went wellst time.


    I find it strange they would dare to return, his uncle frowned.


    From what the prisoners told us, Vales nephew is a fool, Eumund said casually. I believe him capable of such a decision.


    But he was a frightened fool, Athelstan argued. He turned tail and ran all the way to Coldharbour. Something must have given him the courage to face us again, most likely reinforcements. By now, the jarl must know that our army is not marching on Valcaster, freeing his troops.


    We have defeated everything we have faced, Eumund dered, reaching out to pour himself a cup of wine. I do not fear any number of soldiers that Vale brings against us.


    We should not let that spur us into carelessness, Athelstan warned him. We retreat further south until the river Cudrican. We can retreat beyond it if we need to, and until then, it will provide us with fresh water.


    You think it necessary to retreat further? Eumund asked surprised.


    The Order remains an unknown factor in all of this. I will not risk them attacking us while we are engaged with Vale. We must ept the realities of our situation, Nephew.


    You sound as if our plight is great, Eumund frowned. True, Middanhal is beyond our grasp for now, but surely its garrison is light. We saw that during our assaults. We would have to face Vale in battle sooner orter. Once they are defeated, we will retake Middanhal, and Fathers armies will reinforce us.


    Our immediate goals have not changed, no, Athelstan replied, but our room to manoeuvre is greatly diminished. Should we be defeated, we can no longer retreat to Middanhal and our ownnds. We will be besieged in Ingmond, where the poption is hostile against us and hope of relief is dim. Furthermore, the lord marshal remains in Hthiod with five hundred knights and the Hthian levies, the old knight reminded the young.


    You think the lord marshal might abandon the campaign against the ounders and march against us? Eumund said with doubt in his voice.


    I do not think it likely, but if we are trapped in Ingmond just on the other side of the border... Athelstan gave a shrug. I do not wish to find out. Hence, we cannot afford a single mistake. Every care must be taken, we must win the next battle, or this army and we with it will be hunted down.


    We best make sure we win, then, Eumund said casually, taking a sip of his wine.


    Indeed, Athelstan said absentmindedly, his attention resuming on the map.


    Uncle, Eumund began to speak with hesitation, do you me me for the failure of taking the gatehouse? When we assaulted Middanhal.


    Athelstan looked up at his nephew. Do you think I should me you?


    Hard to tell, Eumund replied. Your n to take the gatehouse was good, and it was my task to execute it, yet it failed. Same as how I was supposed to take the Citadel in the first ce. I called a retreat on both those asions because it seemed lost, and now that the castle garrison has retaken Middanhal... his voice trailed off before he continued again. I worry that my decisions have twice over cost us control of the city.


    Athelstan sat silent for a moment. Remember what I have told you, he began to say, about the most important quality a good captain possesses?


    Good lieutenants, Eumund answered without hesitation.


    Athelstan nodded. A captain is only as capable as his lieutenants. Before a battle, he may devise strategies and tactics. However, once it has begun, a battle is decided on the front lines. A good strategy can only bring you so far, he told his nephew. You must trust your lieutenants to act and react ording to how the battle develops. Could we have taken the gatehouse and thereby the city if you had pressed on rather than retreated from the walls? Possibly, Athelstan granted. But it was also possible that you and my strongest warriors would have been ughtered or imprisoned, and I would have been left without my best lieutenant, he continued. You deemed it most likely that thetter would have happened, and so you called a retreat. I trust your decisions, Eumund. Else I would have stripped you of your rank and responsibility.


    Thank you, Uncle, Eumund said, sounding relieved.


    Do not let doubts concerning past decisions cloud your mind. It will make you indecisive in battle, which is the worst quality amander can have. Cast these thoughts aside that you may rest soundly, Athelstan ordered him. We have trying days ahead.


    As you say, Uncle, Eumund assented and left to do asmanded.

 Chapter 48: The Velvet Glove

    Chapter 48: The Velvet Glove


    The Velvet Glove


    Coldharbour


    Earlier that week, while Athelstan was preparing his assault on Middanhal, the Vale army was still recovering from its defeat and had retreated into the safety of Coldharbour, tending to their wounded. Other than that, they had done little else except cause trouble for the local inhabitants. The appearance of Athelstan, his capture of the siege camp and its engines, his usurpation of their stated goal of besieging Middanhal, all of it had left Konstantine aimless.


    Coldharbour was notrge enough to warrant an Order garrison; it did not hold specific strategic interest like Tricaster, and it was not considered a source of sedition. It had a small keep manned by soldiers employed by the jarl of Vale, and the rest of the city was built around its harbour. From the east, the river Cudrican streamed towards the city and here met the great river Mihtea. That river in turn flowed through Middanhal southwest in this direction, and just north of Coldharbour, the river made a sharp drop. This kept ships from sailing further up the river; hence, any shipped goods destined for Middanhal had to stop at Coldharbour and continue overnd. Considering the endless stream of trade flowing towards Middanhal, this was an oft urrence, at least in times of peace. Now, the only ships that docked in Coldharbour were those belonging to the jarl of Vale, and their purpose was not trade but war.


    Since the port was the very foundation of the existence of Coldharbour, nearly everything in the city was directed towards it. The keep was not part of the city walls and outer fortifications as in many other ces; instead it was built separately inside the city, central to the location of the harbour so that its towers had full vision and reach of the many ships moored by its piers. The grandest housey right by the water and belonged to the alderman of the guilds, the highest local authority in Coldharbour. The guilds chose the alderman and thus the ruler of the city; however, since the cityy in the jarldom of Vale, the alderman was also the jarls representative and to some extent ountable to the jarl for how the city was run.


    Konstantine had eschewed staying at the keep, opting for the more luxurious rooms avable at the aldermans estate; as the heir to the jarl and thus his future lord, the alderman had not been in a position to refuse. Arion, an ever-present shadow to Konstantine, had also been given a room in that house with a desk to write his reports. When not upied with such, the chambein could usually be found on the roof of the house, watching the docks.


    Finally, some days after the arrival of the Vale army to Coldharbour, Arion walked slowly through the corridors of the house until he reached Konstantines room. He knocked loudly, waiting for an answer. When he was not given leave to enter, Arion knocked again with increased fervour.


    What is it, a voice yelled from inside, which, despite it being noon, sounded rusty from sleep.


    Milord, you should prepare, Arion said through the closed door.


    The sound of shuffling could be heard before the door opened to reveal Konstantine wearing a nightshirt. As one hand opened the door, the other reached out to grab a wine skin. What? the youth asked surly.


    A ship has just docked, Arion began to exin.


    Hardly worth disturbing me for, Konstantineined.


    Upon its mast is the personal banner of Vale, Arion borated.


    The wine skin almost slipped through Konstantines hand. My father or my uncle?


    Who can say? Arion shrugged in ignorance.


    I need to get to the keep, Konstantine said, ncing around as if searching for something. And clothes, he added, putting the wine away to pull his nightshirt over his head.


    I doubt that will be necessary, Arion told him, turning around while the young nobleman changed clothes. Whoever is arriving, I expect they wille straight here.


    How can they know I am here? Konstantine asked puzzled, pausing his movements out of bewilderment.


    I wrote it in the ounts I send to your uncle, naturally, Arion said with a voice carrying the tone of exining something obvious. He or your father should be here any moment. You should finish getting dressed, milord, he added with a smile that Konstantine could not see.


    ~~~~


    The alderman, his family, his servants, and his guests were all gathered in the main hall of his home to wee the visiting dignitary. Despite the number of people present, silence reigned; nothing could be heard except the disharmonious breathing of every person in the room. Thus, it was easy to hear as heavy steps thundered down the hallway outside until finally, the doors mmed open. In walked Konstans, nked by two thanes.


    The alderman moved forward cautiously, anxiously, but he barely had time to open his mouth and greet the visitor before he was stopped. Leave us, Konstans said harshly. Although he said nothing else, his eyes were fixed on Konstantine; there was no doubt that the youth was the one person meant to stay. The rest nervously filtered towards the nearest doors until Konstans was alone with his son.


    Father, Konstantine began to speak. Before he could act or react further, Konstans crossed the distance between them with crity and gave his son a backhanded p across the face with enough force to send the youth to the floor.


    Do not dare to speak, Konstans said with ice in his voice. You inbred imbecile. You are no son of mine. How could you act with such unbridled, undiluted stupidity! The final words were spoken with a roar as his temper was unleashed.


    But Father, Konstantine winced as hey on his back.


    All that I have worked for all these years, you throw away at a moments notice! I should have you on the rack for this. No, thrown in the stocks and let every beggar spit on you, Konstans said with malice. He walked over to where Konstantiney on the floor, and thetter gasped and shook with fear, raising his hands to shield his face. It was not necessary, however, as Konstans did not strike him further; instead, he crouched down and spoke with a whisper. Know this, boy, he said with venom in his voice, the fact that you are my son would not have spared you from my wrath. Only because you are my brothers heir, and I have no patience for our cousins and their durd offspring, will you not be stripped of your name and sent into exile. Do you understand?


    Yes, Father, Konstantine whimpered.


    Now I must figure out how to resolve this, Konstans said, speaking mostly to himself as he straightened up and began to pace around the room.


    Father, I am sorry, Konstantine said, stressing each word. He pulled himself up to sit on the floor rather than lie prone and raised his eyes towards his father. I did not know Athelstan wasing. When they attacked, everything happened so swiftly, and it was lost before I knew anything.


    Konstans ceased walking and turned to send his son a cold stare. You think that your defeat is the source of my displeasure? Are you really so witless? When Konstantine could not find anything to answer with, his father spoke again. While you were a fool to allow Athelstan to ambush you, I should not have expected differently. That is what happens when you send a boy against a man, he said disdainfully. No, what angered me was your moment of boundless folly when you decided to besiege Middanhal.


    But that is what you sent me here to do, Konstantine said bewildered.


    No, you dolt, Konstans roared again, I sent you to iste Middanhal! Block the connection between Isarnsnds and Athelstans army, help starve him out. The Order had already done that for us, how is this beyond your mental grasp?


    I thought they would lose the city again, Konstantine tried to exin. They cannot be many to defend it. They refused to let us enter. They wanted me to give upmand, to take the army from me.


    Then you should have stalled, Konstans said, his voice constantly on the verge of breaking into a yell. Withdrawn, dyed, pretended misunderstanding. Anything but what you actually did. How could you ever have thought that attacking the Order was a good choice of action? When Konstantine did not readily reply, his father urged him on. I am serious. What moronic idea possessed you? Make me understand, my son. Thest word was spoken with a sneer.


    If we controlled the city, Konstantine spoke, we could do what Isarn tried to do. His voice had trembled at first, but now it became steady. Rule the Adalthing, bend them to our will.


    And make your uncle king, Konstans finished the line of thought, though contempt was present in his tone. With you as his heir. How vulgarly transparent of you.


    Does that matter if it worked? Konstantine dared to ask as he finally stood up. He was not quite as tall as his father, however, and he still had to look up to him.


    You are as ignorant as that swartling Isarn, Konstans eximed. I see I must exin in detail. He slowly released his breath before he spoke again in a malicious tone. The king of this realm is called the Dragon of Adalrik. He wears the Dragon Crown, he sits upon the Dragon Throne. Do you see the imagery at work here? he asked with an acidic voice. Only a dragonborn may take that seat, wear that crown, hold that title. Yes, we may force the Adalthing into submission, but many of the nobles will demur at this. Do you truly think the Order, the guilds, or even themon rabble on the streets will ept anything but a true atheling of Sigvard to rule? Konstans exhaled, making the sound into a scoff. No, we must respect how Sigvards line have yed this. They have managed to secure their grasp on the throne exceedingly well.


    But Isarn  Konstantine tried to object.


    His father cut him off. Isarn is a fool! Ironfist indeed. He understands no other way to rule but by dictate and brute force. Do you not understand, Konstantine, the hand that rules with a velvet glove wields infinitively more power. Forcing people to do your bidding can be done by any brute, but it will onlyst until a stronger man takes it from you. No, Konstans shook his head, you must rule so that people desire to be ruled by you. So that there is no better alternative. So that they obey your wishes without questioning it.


    Sorry, Father, Konstantine mumbled. I see that it was a mistake to try and emte Isarn.


    That is not even half of it, his father said harshly. Do you still not realise the depth of your ineptitude? You are wearing my patience thin, he sneered. Do you not understand that Isarn had one chance to do this right? Seize Middanhal, have himself dered king, execute all those against him, ourselves included. The moment that we escaped, he lost his chance. Now the South is rising against him, and he has made himself an enemy of the Order.


    Konstans paused briefly before continuing, ncing towards the windows that allowed light to enter the hall. It was the greatest gift that refuse of a jarl could have given us, he spat out. All we had to do was endure. Survive, let Isarn wear himself out. By rebelling, he made it the Orders priority to defeat his armies, seize hisnds, and ce him in chains. Sooner orter, the Order armies in Herbergja and Fontaine would have responded. Ourbined armies would have crushed Isarn, and the result would be an Adalthing devoid of our greatest foe and all of his influence. Whatever we desired could have been ours, all within the confines of thew, Konstans borated.


    But now, he continued with weary anger, now you have done the same. Attacked the Order, made us traitors. You discarded our greatest advantage, he spoke, and there was almost a sense of disbelief in his voice. Even if we survive this, the Order, the Adalthing, the people, all will view us with extreme distrust. And to the south, that slime Adrd of Korndale is waiting for his opportunity. Now, he may not even need pretext, Konstans eximed. With half the realm dered traitors, it only takes one marshal to send a letter to Korndale and request the kings assistance in Adalrik. The Order will practically throw it into hisp, and that Dalish silkworm will have what he has been salivating to get all his life!


    I am sorry, Father, Konstantine managed to stammer as realisation finally struck him.


    You will be, Konstans promised with a dark look in his eyes. But first I must salvage this. Keep the Order from dering us ouws. Prevent the rest of Adalrik from seeing us as usurpers. And do it swiftly before that slug Adrd is shaken out of his stupor and realises the realm has been served to him on a tter!


    Konstantine did not speak again upon hearing the ire in his fathers words, who in turn rmenced pacing back and forth. At length he stopped and walked over to one of the doors, tearing it open. On the other side stood Arion, the alderman, and various others, mostly servants. They all fluttered away, blushing, except Arion, who simply faced his master. Arion, Konstans said curtly, and the chambein stepped forward to enter the hall. The atheling houses, Arnling and Hardling.


    Yes, milord?


    Who are their lords? Konstans asked.


    As I recall from the Adalthing, Arion frowned, House Arnling is led by Adalbrand.


    Presumptuous name, the nobleman snorted.


    He is around twenty, maybe a little older, the chambein estimated as he dug out facts from his memory. Has a sister. He is a soldier in the Order like his predecessors.


    Useless, Konstans said dismissively. He is probably dead at Lake Myr or running around somewhere on the moors. Hardling?


    The old lord diedst year, I recall, hunting ident, Arion said contemtively. His eldest son is very young, seventeen perhaps. He has an older sister and two younger brothers, I believe.


    Good, Konstans nodded. Young, easier to control, and with brothers to spare, considering the dragonborn are dying like flies. Would our young Lord Hardling be in Middanhal?


    No, milord, Arion shook his head. You reached out to him after the funeral of the prince in order to secure his support, but he had already left for Hardburg with his family.


    Hardburg, Konstans muttered, only a few days ride from here. If you beat your horse enough, he added pensively. Give me solitude, he said abruptly in a louder voice, and both Arion and Konstantine left the hall.


    A quarter of an hour passed in the hallway. The only sound that could be heard from outside the door to the hall was Konstans walking around the room. With the spectacle over, the inhabitants of the house had dispersed, and only Arion and Konstantine remained. Finally, the door was pulled open with unnecessary force, revealing Konstans behind it. Arion, the nobleman said curtly, procure three fresh horses for me. Same number for my two thanes. I ride to Hardburg myself.


    Milord, Arion obeyed, bowing and leaving at once.


    As for you, Konstans continued with an embittered look at his son, you will gather those feeble buffoons acting as your lieutenants and prepare the army. If Athelstan is besieging Middanhal, we must act quickly. Begin the march towards the capital immediately, but do not engage him. Keep a days march between your forces and his, do you understand? he said with a savage undercurrent in his voice.


    Yes, Father, Konstantine murmured.


    Do nothing until I arrive. Gods help you if you make another mistake, for I will not, he warned before he left with haste.


    ~~~~


    As Konstansmanded, so it was done. While he rode to Hardburg with a few attendants, his son had the remainder of Vales northern forces assembled from the various taverns, alehouses, and ces of ill repute in Coldharbour that had enjoyed their patronage thesest days. While the defeat suffered at Athelstans hands had caused casualties, those numbers had not been high; in fact, more soldiers had most likely been lost to desertion in the aftermath. Still, more than three thousand remained in fighting condition.


    Furthermore, Konstans had not arrived alone either. With Athelstans army gone from the South, there was no need to keep the southernnds and cities heavily garrisoned. All the soldiers conscripted in thest weeks had been ced on transports and travelled with Konstans to Coldharbour. All in all, another three thousand stood ready and followed Konstantine on the march east, an army with the numbers to match Athelstans or the Orders.


    After five days, they were close to Middanhal. There was no sign of the Isarn army, however; the scouts returned only with reports of empty roads and fields. Fearing to be ambushed as before, Konstantine did not move his army closer towards Middanhal but ordered it to remain in camp. A few more days passed without event; then finally his father joined him. Konstans did not arrive alone but apanied by other banners than his own. Within the hour, the army was breaking camp and preparing to march towards the capital.

 Chapter 49: The Greater Foe

    Chapter 49: The Greater Foe


    The Greater Foe


    Middanhal


    In the capital, the Order was taking full advantage of the respite given to them. While none of themanders could divine why Vales army was remaining camped a few days out and not making any move, they were grateful for the extra time to prepare. Richard had arrived with the main army, meaning that Middanhal finally had a full garrison with every tower, wall, and post manned. Add to that, more levies from Theodstan had arrived at the same time to bolster their forces, and the Order now had about six thousand men at their disposal.


    With the threat from Silfrisarn lessened and the northern gate open, more than soldiers from Theodstan entered Middanhal. Travellers of a more peaceful nature were allowed inside as well. Among them was a tall, thin beggar wearing a blindfold; he was apanied by a boy of some fourteen years, dressed in the robes of a Temple novice. They did not venture that far along the Arnsweg, however, but merely followed its curve around the Citadel until they reached the entrance to the southern courtyard. Here, the beggar hesitated and halted his step.


    Whats wrong? Egil asked puzzled.


    My task was to investigate the truth concerning your dead prince and to see you safely returned, lfwine began to exin. Taking you to the very gate of the Citadel should fulfil thetter part. You may rte all we have learned to your master, which should fulfil the former part.


    But my master would give anything to speak to you, Egil urged. There is so much you might tell us, so many gaps to fill.


    I know little of the history of your kind, lfwine argued. Besides, I meant what I once told you. My kind belongs in the legends and old tales. We have no wish to interfere with the rest of the world any longer.


    But  Egil tried to object.


    Remember your promise, lfwine said sternly. You will keep my confidence.


    I remember, Egil said a little sullenly.


    Good, the Elf replied with an inkling of a smile.


    lfwine turned to leave, but he was held back by Egil quickly speaking again. Will we ever meet again? the boy asked.


    Considering the only reasons I would venture south of the forest, I hope not, came the reply; with no further words, lfwine crouched a little, leaned against his staff, and transformed himself into a beggar once more. Thest that Egil saw of him, he walked at the edge of the street between the Citadel wall and apany of soldiers marching past. For a moment, due to his height, the tip of his hat was visible; a momentter, not even that could be seen.


    Egil stood as if daydreaming for a while, staring at nothing; then he was brought awake by soldiers pushing him aside as they walked into the courtyard whileughing crudely. Composing himself, Egil grimaced at the soldiers before he too stepped forward, returning home.


    ~~~~


    When Richard returned to Middanhal, he was not only apanied by Order soldiers, reinforcements from Theodstan, and errant apprentices; Theodoric had also been part of the retinue. He went straight to his chambers and found them empty save Holwine. They greeted each other discreetly upon this reunion and gave no sign that they were anything other than master and servant. Holwine was as customary dressed in mens clothing and with a cap hiding her hair. Mypliments on your victory, she smiled, giving a little bow in a manner that made it seem like a jest.


    Thank you, the jarl responded. My sister is not here?


    She is with friends, Holwine exined. The Arnling girl and the veiled one from the heath.


    I will see herter, I suppose.


    No doubt, Holwine assented before changing the topic and her tone of voice as it grew discerning. You do not seem like a man satiated with victory, returning from a battle won.


    I am pleased that we won, naturally, Theodoric tried to exin, sitting down on a chair and wringing his hands as if seized by indecisiveness. I only worry what the consequences might be in the long term.


    What might they be? Holwine asked.


    We defeated Isenhart, but he is not the man that concerns me, Theodoric admitted.


    Sir Athelstan, his servant guessed.


    He is twice themander that his brother is. He proved that against Marcaster. Now I am told that he is close, having almost retaken the city with but a few days of assault, the jarl eximed, gesturing wildly. While he may have retreated for now, it is a short-lived reprieve. He controls all of Ingmond. Plenty of supplies and winter quarters for his troops. Sooner orter, we will have to face him in battle.


    I understand your reluctance, milord, given Sir Athelstans reputation, Holwine said slowly, but he cannot be invincible. Your soldiers proved themselves against Jarl Isenhart. Sir Richard is a strong warrior, we all know this. He also seems most capable as a captain.


    That is my concern, Theodoric professed. Richard is captain in name only. He fights on the front line while everymand, every strategy is decided by his young and most inexperienced lieutenant.


    The young dragonborn? Holwine frowned. I have heard what I assumed were rumours and exaggerations only.


    Perhaps to some extent, but not entirely. All of Richards decisions havee from his mind, Theodoric confided in her. There is barely any pretence left. Adalbrand simplymands, and Richard obeys like any other soldier.


    But is there harm in this? Holwine ventured to ask at length. Does the victory against Jarl Isenhart not show that he is capable, at least?


    He is, Theodoric admitted, but against Athelstan? Thed was Athelstans squire, did you know? It is quite natural that he would possess some tricks passed down by that old wolf, but do you trust a twenty-year-old squire to lead our armies to victory against the most fearedmander in the realms?


    I would not bet heavily on those odds, Holwine acknowledged.


    In some ways, the victory against Isenhart might be detrimental to our cause, Theodoric stated. It has only affirmed Richards belief in Adalbrand. He is deaf to all concerns. And the soldiers, I have seen them in camp when our young lieutenant approaches. They greet him by beating fist against chest as a true atheling of Sigvard.


    You fear he is growing proud?


    How could he not? Theodoric asked rhetorically. Even his very name, Adalbrand, is arrogance incarnate. I knew his father, Arngrim, to some extent. What was he ever thinking to invoke the House of Adal through his sons name? The jarl shook his head. None of his predecessors, none of the atheling houses ever dared to do so before. Which leads to my greatest fear.


    Milord? Holwine said questioningly.


    Isenhart has set a dangerous precedent, seizing the capital to force himself into power. When that happened, I sought the aid of the Order, Theodoric exined. It is their task to prevent this. But young Adalbrand, he seems to have the full support of the only Order army in Adalrik. Should he seize Middanhal, what army is going to stop him? the jarl contemted. Vale, Isarn, Arnling. A pack of wolves tearing the realm apart.


    Then it is good that the jarl of Theodstan is more cunning than all of thembined, Holwine said reassuringly. That same jarl will use his skills to keep the realm together.


    Theodoric looked up with a half-hearted smile. Ten years ago, I would have been one of those wolves. When I was dragonlord, I schemed with more delight and fervour than the viins of those dreadful stage ys from Fontaine.


    I recall, Holwine said with a grin. Those were indeed delightful days. What prompted this change of heart, if I may ask?


    It was my fault, Theodoric said, his voice faltering. It is my fault.


    Pardon, milord? Holwine frowned.


    The war in Heohlond. This session crisis. All of it. The jarl scratched his forehead and ran his hand through his hair. Years of strife, civil war. I caused it.


    Forgive me, but how could that be possible? Holwine asked sceptically.


    It was I who was supposed to go when n Boyd caused trouble near the border to Adalrik. As jarl of Theodstan, it was my duty to handle the matter, he spoke with a voice that slowly grew quieter. But I was too upied in Middanhal with all my plots and ploys, so I convinced the king to send his son. Told him it would be valuable experience for Prince Sigmar to understand the subjects he would one day rule, to resolve their issues. I sent my friend to his death, he breathed.


    And war erupted in Heohlond, Holwine concluded his story.


    Yet the gods have not finished toying with me, Theodoric continued, speaking with a normal voice. The first Adalthing that I attend in years, I ensure the election of the lord marshal as lord protector. What happens next? Invasion of Hthiod, the marshal leaves the realm, and soon after, our young prince is in. Killed on the road to Valcaster where I had sent him. My dealings, my schemes ced that boy on that road, the jarl spoke softly while staring into air. Now we are at war yet again because of me.


    You could never have predicted any of this, Holwine tried to argue.


    That does not seem to matter to the gods, the jarl replied with an empty smile, finally turning his head to look at her.


    Before either of them could speak further, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Holwine walked over and opened it. Captain Theobald requests the jarls presence in his chambers, a soldier informed her. Theres been a message he should hear.


    Thank you, Theodoric said from inside the room, standing up. Tell Theodwyn I will see herter, he asked of Holwine before he left, walking with a slow pace towards the captains quarters.


    ~~~~


    When Theodoric arrived at his destination, he saw Theobald, Richard, Brand, and Fionn already present. I hear word of a message? the jarl said questioningly, looking around.


    The captain nodded. Arrived not long ago, earlier today, he said gruffly. Thought you should all hear. It was one of the soldiers at Saltgate that brought it. It seems we have envoys from Vale seeking to negotiate with us.


    I wonder if it will go better thanst time, Fionn remarked with coarseughter.


    The emissary mentioned Lord Konstans himself as the one wishing to speak with us, Theobald borated. The jarls brother.


    A shrewd man if nothing else, Theodoric stated. It may be worth hearing what he has to say.


    Are we going to simply forget that less than two weeks ago, Vales army was besieging us? Fionn growled. Unless this Konstans is here to beg forgiveness, I am not inclined to listen to anything he has to say.


    From what I understand, Theodoric interceded with a calming voice, they did not actually make an assault upon Middanhal.


    Only because Athelstan interfered before they could begin, Richard snorted.


    Regardless, no blows were actually struck. Perhaps we should not dismiss what aid the jarl of Vale can bring, Theodoric imed, sending a nce towards Brand. Provided these negotiations turn out to be reasonable, of course.


    I think the esteemed jarl has a point, Brand acknowledged, prompting Theodoric to give him another nce, one born of surprise. We must not forget that there is war in Hthiod as well. The longer this kin strife drags on, the greater toll it will take on the Order. Fighting two wars in different realms, the squire concluded.


    We will hear what Lord Konstans has to say, Theobald dered, and see if some understanding may be reached. Gods know I would rather face Athelstan with Vales forces at my side than against me.


    Fine, Richard eximed a little surly. Let this excuse of a daleman speak. But he better be on his knees, grovelling, the knight warned with a contemptuous look before he turned and left the room. The other men exchanged looks but followed suit, heading towards the southern gate.


    ~~~~


    In the southern courtyard, the soldiers and servants could witness the leaders of the Order make their way out of the Citadel. Several of those present were the Hthian longbowmen, practising their craft; they paused briefly upon seeing men of high rank before resuming their training. Normally, the archers of the garrison trained in a hall inside the Citadel built for that very purpose; however, with the sun shining and the weather warm, the bowmen had devised their own range in the southern courtyard along one of the walls, shooting against targets supported by bales of hay.


    Some clothes, including an Isarn surcoat, had been stuffed full of straw into the image of a soldier and now served as the current target. As was their wont, the longbowmen were having improvisedpetitions. Nichs and Quentin were among them, using the opportunity to retell the story of their nightly assault upon Middanhal and how they had be heroes of the city.


    Quentin had just shot his arrow into one of the crude eyes painted upon the target, and picking up his quiver, he stepped away from the line with a satisfied smile. Nichs moved forward to take his ce, but before he could shoot, Quentin ced a hand on his arm. Nichs, he said with caution in his voice.


    As Nichs turned to gaze in the same direction as his friend, his eyes widened in fear at the sight; Berimund, tall and fierce as ever with his axe on his back, was striding straight towards him. Nichs involuntarily backed a few steps until he hit the courtyard wall. Quentin grabbed the feather of an arrow in his quiver with two fingers and let go with his other fingers so that the case and remaining arrows dropped to the ground. With a grim look in his face, Quentin readied it on the bowstring, though he did not yet draw it back.


    Berimund stopped a few paces away; the other archers, sensing something afoot, all gazed intently on the kingthane. From a pocket underneath his leather tunic, Berimund dug something out. At first, hisrge hand concealed it, but as he stretched out, the shape of a figurine could be determined with its ivory white colour reflecting the sun. This belongs to you, Berimund said gruffly, extending his hand towards Nichs even as he nced elsewhere. I spoke with the tavern keeper, the kingthane offered as his only exnation.


    The archer wore an expressionpletely devoid of understanding until his eyes finally fell on the statuette. With halting steps, he moved forward and epted the small trophy from Berimund. Thank you, milord, Nichs mumbled, frowning at the situation. I appreciate the courtesy, he added with some relief in his voice.


    Do you have any idea who stole it from you in the first ce? Berimund asked, finally looking at the archer. The owner of the tavern was of no use.


    Someone else in the games. Someone who thought they deserved it more than me, Nichs guessed; by his side, Quentin rxed a little, finally removing the arrow from his bow. They took our names when we entered the tournament. If they still have that list, it might tell you who you seek.


    I had not thought of that, Berimund frowned. That is not bad advice.


    The kingthane almost turned to walk away, but he was halted as Nichs spoke again. Milord, the prince travelled in a closed carriage, did he not?


    Of course, Berimund answered, frowning. Except for the window through which the arrow struck.


    Was it standing still? Nichs asked next.


    To some extent, Berimund replied. The driver was dead, but the horses became uneasy at themotion and began to move about.


    In that case, milord, you need not bother consulting the list. Whoever it was that Nichs made an awkward pause, clearing his throat. killed the prince, they would have to be the best marksman I have seen. If such a man had entered the solstice games, he would have won, no doubt about it.


    How so? Berimund asked, the frown returning to his face. I saw you hit that rabbit in flight.


    True, Nichs nodded. But that was out in the open, I had ample time to take aim, and I was not under threat from being attacked. Striking a moving target through a small opening with only a sliver of a moment to shoot your bow, Nichs pointed out, that takes enormous skill. Not to mention, the archer would have to creep close.


    Why? Berimund asked. We would have caught anybody close by.


    Of course, Nichs quickly agreed. It just seems necessary for the angle of the shot. Because of the opening, he added, seeing the perplexed expression on the kingthanes face. An arrow flies in an arc such as this. With a moments notice, Nichs readied an arrow, pulled back, and sent it towards the other end of the range. It flew upwards until it reached the high point of its arc and descended steadily, striking into the chest of the straw target.


    But shooting through a small opening, such as a carriage window, that does not allow for much of an arc, Nichs borated. You would have to be fairly close in order to shoot your arrow straight ahead with barely any rise or fall. Otherwise it will not pass through the opening and strike a target behind it. Unless the prince was standing right by the window, of course, Nichs considered.


    He was not, Berimund rified, his frown deepening. He grabbed the arrow that Quentin had been holding and prodded its tip against the palm of his other hand, simting various arcs. Without further words, the kingthane turned and left, still poking the arrowhead in different ways against his hand.


    Behind him, Quentin opened his mouth to object as he watched the other man leave with his arrow. A few frustrated sounds escaped the heathman before he abandoned the thought. Never mind, he scowled. Its your turn, Nichs, Quentin nodded towards the straw target ced against the bales of hay, which still had one eye pierced by his own arrow. One eagle says you cant hit the other eye.


    One eagle? Nichs repeated as a grin broke out on his face. He grabbed an arrow and notched it on his bow. Easiest silver I ever made, he bragged as he pulled back the string. He spent a moment taking aim and let his arrow fly.


    ~~~~


    If somebody had stood by one of the windows in the library tower, they could have witnessed the spectacle in the courtyard. All those inside the library were too upied with other matters to be idly gazing out the window, however. This was also the reason why nobody noticed as the door opened; the shuffle of chairs and people moving masked the sound of hinges in use.


    Thus, when Egil stepped inside, nobody spotted him immediately; he in turn had plenty of opportunity to gaze around and take in the sight of several girls reading, writing with unsteady hands, or moving books around. A look of confusion left him with his mouth slightly open and his eyes crossed in a frown. Then he was tackled by a shape roughly same size as himself.


    Egil! Kate eximed in a high-pitched voice as she hugged him tightly. He stumbled backwards, almost falling, and was only saved by the door behind him as it kept him upright.


    Hallo, Kate, he croaked as she squeezed the air out of him. Good to see you too. She finally gave him room to breathe as she took a step back, and he once more nced around the room. What is this? he ended up asking, struggling to finish the sentence.


    Well, on Rilday, after weve been to the Temple, we sneak in some time up here. I think Cook knows, but she doesnt mind as long as we finish our duties on time, Kate exined happily. Of course, we sometimes end up having to stay past first bell in the kitchen, but its nice to be here during the day. It can get a little cold in the evening.


    But, Egil stammered, youre reading. All of you. Kitchen girls.


    Of course, Kate said dismissively. All it takes are two eyes. We got that as much as any other. Though I suppose you could get by even with just one eye, she contemted. As long as you can see the letters. What about you? she eximed. How was your journey? Where did you go? Did you experience anything exciting?


    It was long, Egil confessed. We went to Heohlond. Plenty of excitement, which I will tell you aboutter. First I have to see my master.


    Master Quill is in the scriptorium, Kate told him, pointing at the closed door. I should probably go, plenty of work to do in the kitchen. See you tonight when Im done?


    Sure, Egil said, sounding a little distracted, but heposed himself enough to give her a smile. Ill be here.


    Great, Kate said. She hesitated a moment before speaking again. Im really d youre back, Egil.


    They separated; one left the tower, the other entered the scriptorium. Master? Egil said questioningly, peering inside. At one of the desks sat the aged, bronze-tanned scribe in his dark red robe, his feather pen carefully dancing across a page and leaving a trace of ink to immortalise the events of the past month.


    Hearing his title spoken, Quill raised his head with a smile. Egil? he said before he even turned to look. With joy spread across his face, the scribe rose from his seat and stepped away from the desk.


    Egil walked over towards him and inclined his head. Im back, master.


    Wee home, Quill smiled, cing one hand on his shoulder.


    I have a lot to tell you, master, Egil professed.


    Sit down, Quill gestured towards a chair. Tell me everything from the start.


    ~~~~


    A collection of Middanhals foremost defenders was found assembled on top of the gatehouse in the afternoon that day. The captain of the Citadel and his current second-inmand; themander of the Order armies and his first lieutenant; finally, the jarl of Theodstan. They watched as the delegation from Vale, which had been waiting a small distance from the gate, approached flying different banners. One of these was the g of truce with its white horse head. The other was deep blue with a brown boar as its emblem.


    I thought we were meeting Jarl Vales brother, Richard muttered. What is this banner?


    House Hardling, Theobald replied. A boar on blue background. The only other house wearing the blue, he added with a nce towards Brand.


    Right, Hardling, the old boar, Richard mumbled. What is he doing here?


    He is dead, Fionn corrected him. Last year while hunting. A boar skewered him on its tusks. Did you not hear? People marvelled so at the coincidence, they did not know whether to grieve orugh.


    That does not answer the question of why Hardling is involved, Theodoric said contemtively. Regardless, that is Lord Konstans riding in front. I recognise him.


    And that brat of his by his side, Fionn said contemptuously. Him I recognise from ourst little get-together.


    My lords, Arion called out. My lord and master Konstans of the House of Vale seeks an audience.


    He is free to speak, Theobald replied. He may know that his words will be heard by both the captain of the Citadel and themander of the Order in Adalrik, who has just returned from a victory against Jarl Isarn on the battlefield.


    That is joyous news, Konstans spoke, leading his horse a few paces forward to be positioned in front of his group. It is for this reason we havee that we might offer aid as loyal subjects of the Crown. We all desire to see an end to this rebellion.


    Curious, Fionn called out. That is not the impression we gotst time your men were at our walls.


    With whom do I have the honour of speaking? Konstans asked mildly.


    I am Sir Fionn, knight of the Order of Adal, came the reply. We have not met before since I have spent thest month defending the Citadel and this city from traitors.


    Commendable, Konstans acknowledged. You will be d to know that with me marches six thousand men to that end.


    Is that so, Richard now called out. Last I heard, the soldiers of Vale had ends of their own in mind.


    These soldiers march under the banners of House Hardling, Konstans rified. With me is also Lord Hardmar. Behind him, the young nobleman in question had his horse move forward a little as he inclined his head in greeting. He has granted me leave to speak on his behalf and submit these forces to the leadership of the Order that it may bring a swift end to this uprising.


    This deration caused the men atop the gatehouse to exchange looks. Is this in earnest? Theobald frowned. First they attack rather than submit, and now they do so without even being asked?


    Maybe they came to their senses, Richard shrugged.


    You said you spoke with his son thest time? Theodoric considered. I imagine that father and son differ in their approach to handling this matter. Konstans is no fool, far from it. He must have realised that we all have the same desire. To see Isarn defeated for good.


    Or this may be a ploy, Brand spoke, hitherto silent, and the others all turned to look at him. What better way to get his soldiers into the city than to feign submission? We can defend Middanhal for years from any enemy attacking from without. An enemy attacking from within, however, the squire said soberly, that would be a roll of the die.


    Not all jarls are obsessed withmitting treason and seizing the capital, Theodoric objected, though he sounded less certain.


    No, Brand acknowledged, but we should allow for the possibility. None argued against this.


    My lords, Konstans called out. I have six thousand men awaiting yourmand.


    The Order is grateful for your assistance, Theobald replied. Return to camp, my lord, and we shall send word when we have need of you. He turned to speak more softly to hispanions. That will buy us some time to discuss this in detail.


    As you say, Konstans spoke loudly. Before we leave, however, I have a request.


    Speak, Theobald told him.


    My son is young and has much to learn. I would be honoured if he might remain in the Citadel as your guest during these hostilities, Konstans spoke.


    What is he ying at, Richard growled, frowning.


    He is offering his son as a hostage, Theodoric exined, his expression also puzzled.


    Yes, Theodoric, despite your misgivings about my intelligence, I deduced as much, Richard said curtly. But what is all this? Marching his soldiers under Hardling banners, giving his son as a hostage. What is his aim?


    Regardless, Theobald interjected, it is not a gesture we should dismiss. Turning to look over the parapet, he called out. It would be our pleasure to entertain your son for the time being, the captain told Konstans. Open the gate, hemanded a nearby soldier, who ran into the gatehouse.


    As the imposing steel gates slowly began to swing open, Konstantine rode forward to a position next to Konstans. Father, he said quietly but with a voice approaching panic, what are you doing?


    Is it hard to understand? Konstans replied coldly. Because of you, these men suspect we are traitors. Hence it seems fitting that we alleviate such suspicions by delivering you into their hands.


    But Father, Konstantine winced, what if they kill me? Or punish me? I am your son.


    And as your father, I promise you this, the elder nobleman spoke with slow, entuated words, whatever happens to you behind those gates, it would be worse for you to remain here, outside with me. Do you understand? Thest three words were pronounced with the utmost emphasis.


    Yes, Father, his son swallowed. Konstantine used his spurs on his horse and rode forward through the gates before they closed behind him with a loud sh.


    ~~~~


    In the scriptorium of the library tower, Egil leaned back a little as he finished telling his story. Quill was sitting by his side, jotting down notes as Egil spoke.


    That was quite a tale, Quill nodded impressed. Was this everything?


    Yes, Egil imed, his eyes looking elsewhere. What will you do with it?


    First I will write down a proper record from this, the scribe exined, gesturing towards his notes. Normally, I would have sent it to Tothmor, waiting for Godfrey. But with this war that seems doubtful. I suppose I will simply keep it here for now.


    Why? Egil asked and quickly borated. Why are you sending this to Godfrey? Why does he need to know about murders and princes and ns and war?


    If he wants you to know, he will tell you, Quill dered. It is not for me to speak about his affairs.


    Dont I deserve to know? Egilined. I risked my life for this. Because of him.


    Egil, Quill said with a firm voice, you undertook this journey because I asked you to. Why would you do as I ask of you?


    Well, youre my master, Egil mumbled.


    Why am I your master? Quill asked.


    You chose me, Egil said with a small shrug. You made me your apprentice.


    For this, you owe me your loyalty. Is that not true? Quill asked sternly.


    It is, Egil admitted.


    That is why you did this, Quill pointed out.


    But why did Godfrey tell you to ask me? What do you owe him? Egil questioned.


    You might say that he did for me what I did for you, Quill said softly. My debt to him is as great as yours to me.


    But he is what, twenty years younger than you, master, Egil frowned. How is such a thing possible?


    With Godfrey, Quill smiled wryly, never assume. Now, he continued in a louder voice, I think a small celebration of your return is in order. He stood up and walked into an adjacent room, returning with a pouch. Pouring out some of its content, he ced several silver marks in Egils hands. Go to the market and get as many peaches as that will buy.


    Are there still peaches? Egil asked. The merchants wont have been able to bring any goods to market for a long while now.


    If not peaches, then try plumes. Or get oat cakes, Quill smiled. The world will have fallen apart before these drakonians would ept a shortage of oat cakes. Buy whatever you please. Egil nodded with a grin and closed his fist around the coins before he left the scriptorium.


    ~~~~


    Despite sieges and civil war, the Temple square was still host to the market of Middanhal. There had been some disruptions during the struggles for the city between the Order and Isarn, though, which had also caused its share of destruction. Furthermore, most trade came to Middanhal along the Mihtea through Valends; naturally, this had been blocked while Isarn ruled the city. There was thus a shortage of many things, but enough remained for the peddlers and traders to hawk their goods from morning bell to the first evening ring.


    The marketce was split into two parts on either side of the Arnsweg; this left the road open for the many people travelling to the Temple or beyond. There was a constant stream of people crossing from one part to the other, though they had to do so with care; members of the nobility would often drive in carriages or ride on horseback through the square with speed.


    Egil watched carefully at the edge of the Arnsweg. From the south, he saw several riders approach; a rare sight, considering nearly all horses in the city had been taken by Athelstans army before it marched south or the Order knights before that when they set out for Hthiod. Staring at them, Egil could see that several of them wore Order surcoats, marking them as knights and men of rank.


    When they were gone, Egil crossed the road and entered a section of the market dealing in fruit and vegetables; herbs and spices were nearby with a strong scent that reached him even among the apples and pears. Such wasmon fare and easy to obtain, and Egil continued further in. Eventually he reached a stall manned by a man with same skin and hair as Quill. Greetings, young friend, he spoke in Mearcian speech with a touch of the ent from Alczar.


    Egil gave the stall keeper a nod and polite smile, ncing over what he had for sale. Its not that fresh, is it? he dered as his eyes ran over the different sorts of exotic fruit.


    As fresh as one could hope for in these trying times, the vendor argued.


    I see, Egil responded. How much for the cherries?


    Three copper a cluster, came the prompt answer.


    Egil gave a hollowughter. Ill give you one.


    I paid two myself, the peddler protested.


    Here, Egil dered, counting out two silver coins. Ill give you these two, and youll give me ten stems. Those over there, the apprentice demanded, gesturing to one end of the disy. Not the old ones.


    A cruel bargain, the other man argued, but he did notin further; epting the silver, he let Egil pick out his cherries.


    Pleasant day to you, Egil said, bidding the vendor farewell and given the same in return. With one hand keeping tight hold of the cherry stems, he began walking away. Lured by the smell of the many spices nearby, however, he soon turned his direction and approached, taking in the scent.


    While walking around idly, his gaze was caught by a short figure in bright colours. You are Baldric, the old kings jester, Egil spoke out loud, gaining Baldrics attention. I saw you perform at winter solstice, you were very funny.


    Yet what riddle is this before Baldric, the jester asked with his manic smile. Why do Temple novices witness spectacles for a king?


    Oh, I am apprenticed to Master Quill, Egil exined, pointing at himself. Is that why youre buying mistletoe? For your performance at solstice? he asked, gesturing towards the stalk of leaves and berries in Baldrics hand.


    It is for a performance indeed, Baldric giggled. But if I revealed it now, where would be the fun in that?


    I just ask since winter is months away, Egil pointed out. If you make a winter crown out of that now, its going to wither. A clever man might wait with buying mistletoe until it was actually winter.


    Is that so, Baldric said slowly before his face lit up in another smile. But if you expect Baldric to act like a clever man, then who is the fool here? With a howl ofughter, the jester disappeared between the stalls and the people perusing them.


    ~~~~


    After returning from the gate, the Ordermanders and the jarl of Theodstan had convened in the council chamber inside the Citadel. Konstantine meanwhile had been given quarters with soldiers standing outside; their purpose was not to protect him but to guard him.


    Well, what are we thinking? Richard threw out into the room. What is Konstans aiming at?


    It might be genuine, Theobald admitted. Giving up his son as hostage sends quite a strong signal.


    Not just his son, Fionn added, the jarls heir. It does seem honest.


    It does, Brand assented. Nheless, we should not be too swift at letting our guard down. I think Captain Theobald was right to deny their troops entry into the city. There is no need to risk it.


    If you do not intend to let them defend the city, Theodoric asked with an arched eyebrow, what use will these forces be to us?


    Plenty, Brand dered. There is a hostile army this side of the city which they might engage.


    You would order them to attack Athelstan? Theobald asked surprised.


    I would lead them, Brand dered. Sir Richard and I, he added, looking at the knight.


    Thetter gave a grin in response. I have never been known to back down from a fight, Richard stated.


    Perhaps we should consider this more carefully, Theobald cautioned.


    We will have to face Athelstan sooner orter, will we not? Brand challenged the others as they exchanged nces. We have the numbers, and he is near. If we wait too long, he may withdraw to Ingmond, and we could end up having to force him out through a lengthy siege. Attacking him now is our best option.


    My lieutenant is right, Richard said gruffly. He is out in the open, he is confident.


    He is confident because he has won all other battles so far, Theodoric burst out. Let us not forget that.


    The jarl is right, Theobald said in a calm voice. Perhaps defeating Athelstan through a siege is in fact the best option. It will be long and perhaps costly, yes, but a far lesser risk than meeting him in open battle. Fionn, your valour is indisputable. Do you disagree?


    I am not one to back away from a fight either, Fionn said slowly as he scratched the stubbles on his throat, but Athelstan is one man I am not keen on facing.


    While we may be content with a prolonged siege rather than facing Athelstan, ounders overrun Hthiod. How long before Heohlond smells our indecisiveness and joins Isarn in rebellion? Brand asked with another challenging look. How long before the Seven Realms are ame?


    A little dramatic, Theodoricughed, though there was no mirth in his voice.


    While that danger may exist, it does not change what is possible and what is not. If we cannot defeat Athelstan on the field, we must choose another path, Theobald insisted. If only one way eventually leads us to victory, we must choose it regardless of the cost.


    Can we? Richard suddenly asked, gazing at Brand. Can we defeat Athelstan?


    Yes, Brand said confidently, meeting Richards gaze. We can.


    That is reassuring, Theodoric mumbled grimacing. That was all you had to say.


    I am themander of the Orders army in Adalrik, Richard stated. I will lead that army south and defeat Athelstan. That is my decision.


    Theobalds teeth bit into his lip, but the captain did not have authority to gainsay Richards statement. Theodoric, however, still had words to speak. It is yours to make, the jarl began by admitting. However, he continued, ncing towards Brand, as some warned us earlier, we should not leave the city defenceless. In case we cannot trust the jarl Vale or his brother.


    What do you have in mind? Richard asked.


    Leave the men of Theodstan behind to garrison the city, Theodoric suggested. You will have the veteran Order forces at your disposal as well as the Vale soldiers.


    Divide our forces? Fionn burst out. Surely all will be needed against Athelstan.


    Will they? Theodoric asked, and now he was the one to give Brand a challenging stare. Can you only triumph over Athelstan by my hand?


    Brands lips curled upwards ever so slightly. No, he replied with barely noticeable hesitation as he met the jarls gaze. The Order can win without the jarls support.


    I question how sensible this is, Theobald argued.


    Lord Konstans said he had six thousand men, did he not? Brand asked without awaiting answer. Our Order forces added to that, we still outnumber Athelstan. Presuming our reports about his army are correct.


    This sounds dangerously close to a fools errand, the captain of the Citadel protested.


    You heard the man, Richard nodded towards Brand. We have the numbers we need.


    I will ride with you, Fionn said gruffly. Let it not be said I stayed behind when needed.


    But  Theobald tried to object, looking at the knight that served as his right hand.


    Theobald, Theodoric said calmly, it would seem the decision has been made. We must allow the lordmander of the Order army and his lieutenant to carry it out. Any further words from Theobald died on his lips, and the meeting was adjourned.


    ~~~~


    With the council at an end, Theodoric returned to his chambers, where he found Holwine. Sliding into a chair, the jarl gave a sigh. If you would, he asked of Holwine, gesturing to a pitcher of wine. Thank you, he told her after taking his first draught of the goblet she filled for him. I had need of that.


    Troubled? she simply asked.


    Concerned, he rified. There is a distinct possibility that within the next few days, Athelstan will gain his next victory and be one step closer to retaking the city. But I convinced them to let my own forces remain in the city, the jarl exhaled. If they are willing to ride to their own deaths so easily, I will not keep them. At least I still have my own men to count on.


    Is victory against Athelstan really so uncertain? Holwine frowned.


    It is most unlikely, let us put it that way, Theodoric replied. Should that young squire win, the jarl continued, I am not certain that is preferable. I do not know what Konstans is nning either, and why he appeared today with House Hardling at his side. Every way I look, I see plots, and I fear treason from every direction. Have I gone mad?


    Only if you are mistaken, she replied with a coy smile, to which he gave a hollowugh.


    I am beginning to fear that regardless of how this turns out, we may defeat one tyrant only to crown another, Theodoric confessed bitterly.


    Perhaps this may improve your mood, Holwine said and walked over to the table with food and drink. There was another pitcher on the table aspanion to the one containing wine; as Holwine picked it up and turned it upside down to empty it, ale did not ssh onto her hands, however. Instead, a rolled up piece of parchment fell into her grasp. I managed to grab itst night, but with the slight interruption of an army on our doorstep, I did not find time to give it to you earlier. She ced the parchment in Theodorics hands; he unfurled it and began reading, his eyes quickly flitting down to look at the signatures and seals. It seems genuine, Holwine remarked.


    I do believe it is, Theodoric nodded. I have seen and used the seal of the dragonlord many times. Theodwyn was right that this existed, then. It is our luck that Isenhart did not bring it with him back to Isarn when he left the city.


    What will you use it for? she asked.


    Only one thing it can be used for, the jarl said with a shrug. It convenes the Adalthing outside its ordinary term.


    Will you use it? Holwine amended her question with an annoyed look.


    I do not know, Theodoric admitted. I will need time to think it all through. He slowly brought his cup of wine to his lips, emptying it.

 Chapter 50: The Right Dagger

    Chapter 50: The Right Dagger


    The Right Dagger


    Middanhal


    The following day, a small party left Middanhal and travelled some ten miles to the camp of the Vale forces, which now flew the banner of Hardling; the surcoats of every soldier remained red and gold, however. The group consisted of Richard, Brand, Fionn, and a handful of men-at-arms acting as their bodyguard. Entering the tented area, their eyes nced in various directions, taking it all in until they reached the centre of the camp. Unlike the Order, the quarters for themanders were not kept separate. Two tents, dwarfing the others in size, had been raised here. In front of each was nted a banner, respectively; one showed a boar, while the other depicted three golden spirals.


    From thetter issued Konstans, brother to the jarl of Vale. Wearing a smile, he extended his arms in an invitational gesture. My lords, I am pleased to wee you to our camp.


    Richard gave an indecipherable snort, while Brand phrased himself with greater eloquence. We are d to be here, Lord Konstans, and to see the armies of Vale fighting at our side.


    Forgive me, I do not recall introductions, Konstans said, narrowing his eyes slightly.


    I am Adalbrand of House Arnling, the squire introduced himself.


    A pleasure, the nobleman of Vale simply remarked before returning to the topic at hand. While your words honour me, they should be aimed at Lord Hardmar. It is his achievement that this army stands here, ready to fight these insurgents, Konstans imed. In fact, his lordship is waiting for us in my tent. Shall we? he said, gesturing towards the open entrance. He waited until the two knights and the squire had entered first and followed behind them.


    The tent was already upied. Arion the chambein stood modestly to the side, attracting little attention. A thane was present as well, but standing alone in the centre was a young nobleman scarcely above seventeen years of age. He was handsome and wore a smile as the others entered, dressed in blue and brown.


    Lord Hardmar, may I present the leaders of the Order in Adalrik, Konstans said, introducing them. Sir Richard of Alwood, Sir Fionn of Cairn Donn, and Lord Adalbrand of House Arnling, he gestured towards each of them in turn. My lords, I present Lord Hardmar of House Hardling, an atheling of Sigvard through his descendant, High King Sighard.


    As Konstans spoke, Hardmar inclined his head in greeting before he raised his eyes to look at Brand. Thetter had entered nked by the knights, meaning he was directly opposite Hardmar. Now they gazed at each other, the two athelings of Sigvard. While other descendants such as the king of Korndale could be found, these two were the eldest of their lines from father to son, of which there were no others; none had stronger im than Adalbrand and Hardmar. Two months ago, they had been lords of minor houses and bereft of influence; now they might conceivably gain the seat holding the greatest power in the known world. For the first time since the death of Prince Sigmund and the game of session began, their eyes locked.


    Both wore the blue in some ces, though Brand had the surcoat of the Order and Hardmar the one of his house. Both had the dark hairmon among Sigvards line, but Brands skin was as pale as his mothers people, while Hardmar had the brown colour more custom in the South. Brand stood taller, whereas Hardmar had broad shoulders; the former had almost hollow cheeks and a cool expression, thetter had a face that found it easy to smile.


    My lord, Brand spoke, inclining his head to return Hardmars greeting. The knights echoed his gesture.


    I must congratte you on your victories, the young Hardmar spoke, aimed at Richard. Is the rumour true that you crossed the Weolcans and retook the capital by assaulting it at night?


    Not a rumour, just the truth, Richard said gruffly.


    Impressive, Hardmarplimented.


    We hope to keep that up, Richard remarked. This time against Athelstan.


    You intend to face Athelstan? Konstans asked, his voice uncertain.


    Got to get rid of him at some point, Richard dered in a casual tone of voice.


    That sounds bold, Konstans spoke, choosing thest word with care.


    Impossible rather. At least until you were good enough to join us, Fionn said mildly, prompting a strained smile from Konstans. Now we have the numbers for it. Eight thousand strong.


    I suppose that is a reasonable advantage against Athelstans five thousand, Konstans considered.


    Closer to seven, Brand corrected. He has grown his ranks since the war started.


    Marvellous, the Vale nobleman muttered.


    These numbers are of little consequence, Brand said dismissively. The real danger is his cavalry. From what we gather, he has many hundred.


    You fear his horsemen? Hardmar asked.


    If used properly, which Athelstan understands how to do, they can easily decide the battle, Brand stated.


    What will you do? Hardmar continued, ncing at Richard.


    Stop them, Brand simply said.


    I see, Hardmar smiled.


    You had no need to journey here merely to inform us of this, Konstans said. A simple message telling us to prepare for march would have been enough. Did youe here for some other purpose?


    Most perceptive, Lord Konstans, Brand admitted. We wished to inspect your troops before we return to Middanhal.


    Of course, Konstans nodded. I shall apany you.


    There is no need to trouble you, Brand told him. We will handle it on our own.


    Very well, Konstans assented.


    When the battle does take ce, Hardmar now spoke, I should prefer to be by your side, Sir Richard. I would like to see how exactly you will defeat the renowned Athelstan.


    I should desire that as well, Konstans interjected.


    Stick with me and you will get a closer look than you care, Richardughed. I n to be on the front line,d, he told Hardmar, whose smile grew strained briefly.


    I thought you were the captain of the Order army, Konstans frowned, and these your lieutenants. He nced at Brand and Fionn.


    That I am, Richard nodded, and as captain, I ce myself with the foot soldiers.


    Well, if you ce such trust in your lieutenant, I shall do the same, Konstans dered, bowing his head slightly towards Fionn.


    I am sure our friend Adalbrand is pleased to hear that, the knight grinned. Considering it will be hispany you will be keeping. He is the first lieutenant, Fionn exined. I am just here to make sure the footmen turn their spears the right direction.


    Forgive me, Konstans said puzzled. I merely thought I saw the spurs of a squire upon you, he spoke directed at Adalbrand.


    Perceptive indeed, Brand smiled. That is my station within the Order. Fortunately, that did not keep me from defeating Jarl Isarn, nor shall it hinder me when we face his brother.


    Is that so, Konstans muttered slowly. Very well, my lords. When do we march?


    Tomorrow, Brand told him. Follow the Kingsroad to Middanhal in the early hours. We will meet up with you.


    Until tomorrow then, Hardmar smiled, and the Ordermanders took leave and left the tent.


    When alone, Hardmar turned to look at Konstans. You imed this Adalbrand was dead or in Hthiod, he said quietly with narrowed eyes.


    I only realised a few days ago that the Order army escaped Lake Myr, Konstans defended himself, that it is in fact the same army that now holds Middanhal. Regardless, it holds no difference.


    You made certain promises, Lord Konstans, Hardmar said with a menacing edge to his tone. House Hardling entered this war because of what you promised. We have made ourselves enemies of Isarn because of you.


    Joining us was the only reasonable step for House Hardling to take, Konstans spoke with a hint of a sneer enveloping the twost words. Eventually, Isarn would never have allowed a rival such as yourself in peace. At least this way, you stand a chance to gain something.


    Yes, a vague possibility, it would seem, now that all my forces are to be wasted against Athelstan, Hardmar growled.


    The banner is yours, Konstans countered, but you should not forget what colours the soldiers wear on their coats.


    It is irrelevant now, Hardmar scoffed. The appearance of this Adalbrand, all too alive and fighting, nay, leading the Order, is the frustration of all our ns!


    Calm yourself, Konstans said coolly. It is nearly a year until the Adalthing convenes. Nearly a year to prepare, n, I will need nothing more. Do not forget you are in league with the most powerful nobleman in the realm.


    You? Hardmar said incredulously.


    My brother, Konstans said, clenching his jaw. The jarl of Vale. Do not worry. My brother always honours his agreements. You shall have what was promised to you.


    In that case, I eagerly look forward to observing how that will take ce, Hardmar said with feigned courtesy. Konstans only reply was a curt nod before he turned around and left the tent.


    ~~~~


    It was past noon when the Ordermanders returned to Middanhal. In the southern courtyard as they dismounted, a pair of kingthanes immediately appeared and took position near Brand. Their captain was present as well, but Berimund had other priorities; crossing the open area, he entered the stable buildings. The smell of horse, already permeating the courtyard itself, struck him with increased potency as he went inside. This was despite nearly all the stalls being empty, but Berimunds destination was not the creatures themselves. Instead, he passed them by until he reached another part of the smallplex where the carriages were.


    The exact one used by Prince Sigmund on hisst journey was not here. The kingthanes had set it on fire, perhaps to be rid of something cursed by the spilling of innocent blood, perhaps as a reminder of ancient times when bodies were burned, not buried, a funeral pyre without flesh or bone to devour. Instead, Sigmund now slept in the great cavern underneath Wyrmpeak while the captain of his kingthanes examined the carriages in the stables; all of them were built by the same hands and thus identical to the one that had been burned.


    In one hand, Berimund held an arrow; in the other, he had a bow. He stood some distance from the carriage and notched the arrow, drawing it back; releasing his bow, he watched the arrow follow its arc through the air until it struck through the window of the carriage. Again and again, the kingthane repeated this movement at varying distances, changing the arc of the arrow. An hour was spent by the kingthane, attacking the carriage from every angle; finally, with an embittered expression and a fire slowly igniting in his eyes, Berimund left.


    ~~~~


    Inside the Citadel, Richard and Brand had retired to the formers quarters. It was among the simplest kind in the fortress, a cell intended for one person with an alcove for their servant. Richard sat down on the bed while Brand took the only chair. Now that those of questionable courage are not present, Richard said coarsely, let us speak inly. Do we have a n for the battle?


    We do, Brand nodded. I will need to consult a map and our scouts. Probably spend a day finding a suitable location for the battle. The terrain will be key.


    And Athelstans cavalry? Richard asked, one eyebrow raised.


    I have a n for that as well, Brand stated. We need to determine our lieutenants.


    Fionn is the only guaranteed candidate, the knight imed.


    Quite, the squire nodded. I will need him on one of the nks or the reserves, depending on how the battlefield is formed.


    As you wish, Richard assented. For the other nk? Bowmen?


    Let the archers remain in the city. We have too few to make a difference, Brand frowned. Select two men-at-arms for the remaining positions. You will know better than me whom to choose.


    Very well, Richard agreed. I will do so now.


    Good. I have my own task to perform, Brand dered.


    How cryptic, Richard snorted. What are you up to?


    You have heard the saying, a single dagger in the right ce may win a war, I presume, Brand spoke.


    Something those effeminate rivermen say, the knight said with disdain.


    In our case, it is a matter of the right dagger, rather, Brand said. I must find us the one that will defeat Athelstan.


    ~~~~


    Theodoric, not part of the army marching out and thus not privy to the councils of itsmanders, had spent the morning in his chambers. Theodwyn was there as well; the siblings were engaged in idle talk for once, enjoying a breakfast consisting of bread, fruit, porridge, and ale to drink. There was a knock on the door, and Holebert went to answer it. Opening it ajar, Holebert swung the door wide to let the jarl and his sister see the visitor for themselves.


    Geberic, Theodoric said with a slight frown, you have no need to knock. Come, enter.


    Your pardons, milord, the sergeant replied as he stepped forward, I suppose I am a little unsure and wanted to do everything proper like.


    That sounds ominous, Theodoric remarked with a briefugh directed at Theodwyn, who gave a smile as she put a strawberry in her mouth.


    Me and some of theds, your thanes, milord, Geberic said, scratching his grey beard, we wanted to ask a favour of you


    Speak, Theodoric encouraged, gesturing with his hand in invitation.


    We hear that the army is marching out to fight Sir Athelstan, Geberic began slowly. Most folks are saying it can only end in defeat.


    We will not be going, his master specified. Only the Order army.


    Theres the rub, milord, the sergeant continued. We want to join them.


    You want to join? Theodoric repeated surprised.


    See, theds and me, we feel that we owe a debt. It wont sit well with us to never repay it, Geberic exined haltingly.


    What debt do you speak of? Theodoric asked with a frown.


    To the lieutenant, Geberic rified, sounding ufortable. The young lord, Adalbrand. We owe him.


    What on earth do you owe him? the jarl eximed.


    For Lake Myr, Geberic said. Seeing the puzzled expression on his masters face, he borated. Your lordship was not with us at the time when Sir Athelstan attacked. We were in the other part of the camp with Lord Adalbrand. In fact, we were on the verge of arresting him, the sergeant spoke, sounding embarrassed.


    Perhaps you should have, Theodoric muttered under his breath. Go on, he gestured to Geberic.


    When the others attacked, everything was confusion. Lord Adalbrand, he kept his head cool, gave orders. He held the assault back, kept us from breaking into a rout. Probably saved our lives, too, the aged sergeant exined.


    You feel that you owe him for that, Theodoric nodded as he finally understood.


    We know the kingthanes wont protect his lordship beyond the city. At Bradon, we fought with you, milord, as we are always willing to do, Geberic hastily added, but this battle, since your lordship will remain in Middanhal his voice trailed off before he continued. It seems like now is the time for us. Especially if the battle will go ill as they foretell. This may be ourst chance to repay our debt.


    Although you all seem inclined to believe that the battle will be lost, Theodoric spoke with disbelief in his voice, you still wish to do this?


    We are your thanes, your servants, milord, Geberic said with a shrug. Its our duty to die for another. With your permission, we wish to go.


    Theodoric leaned back in his seat while his eyes scrutinised his sergeant in front of him. If you feel your honour prescribes this, so be it. You have my leave.


    Thank you, milord, Geberic eximed. We shall bring honour to your house upon the field.


    I have no doubt, Theodoric said, although his eyes were drifting elsewhere, and with a gesture, he dismissed the sergeant. When thetter had gone, the jarl turned towards his sister. It would seem even my own sworn men prefer Adalbrand, he exhaled.


    I do not think it was meant that way, Theodwyn said calmly. They felt their honour demanded this course of action.


    Course of action? Theodoric repeated. They are prepared to face certain death for him.


    I admit, he seems to inspire loyalty. A family trait, apparently, his sister remarked as she cut a pear into pieces.


    Loyalty or seduction? the jarl asked. I am not sure any man deserves the loyalty of others if it will end in death for all involved.


    Perhaps it will not, Theodwyn suggested, offering the te of sliced pear to her brother, who shook his head. You defeated Isenhart, did you not? I would not underestimate this young Arnling, she spoke, feeding pieces of pear into her mouth.


    I was not at Cairn Donn, Theodoric replied, but I have heard the story from Richard, Theobald, and a dozen others, and I have heard it a dozen times from each. If there is one man you should not underestimate, it is Athelstan. He will not allow you to make that mistake twice, he warned. But at least if Adalbrand is defeated, it will shake the sense of invincibility that he has conjured up to surround him.


    And if he is invincible? Theodwyn argued. What will you do if Adalbrand returns with victory?


    Then I fear we will have a greater crisis on our hands than anything Isenhart could ever do, Theodoric said darkly.


    ~~~~


    Late in the afternoon, Brand left the Citadel. Followed by two kingthanes, he was otherwise alone as he walked the Arnsweg until he reached the Temple square. Here, he turned left and went up the stairs towards the sacred space. At the top, he stepped onto the teau in front of the great doors, entering into the shade offered by the open roof extending forward from the main building. He told the thanes to wait; their expressions showed their disapproval, but they could not argue. Now a solitary figure, Brand entered the Hall of Holies.


    There was as always a number of worshippers present inside the main hall of the Temple, but they swiftly shied away as they saw Brand. He walked the hundred and fifty steps from entrance to altar, kneeling before it and leaning forward until his forehead gently touched the marble. With this done, he moved to the shrine dedicated to Rihimil, the patron of the Order. Kneeling once more, Brand ced every coin in his purse on the altar and whispered inaudible words in prayer. Standing up, he nced around and gestured for a nearby acolyte in a yellow robe to approach him.


    Yes, milord? the brother said nervously.


    I need an audience with the Highfather. Please inform him of my request, Brand spoke briefly.


    The Holy One does not give audiences that way, I believe, the acolyte stammered. I dont actually know. I am in service to Egnil, I tend to the animals.


    I am amander of the Order, and this pertains to the defence of the realms, Brand exined impatiently. Bring the Highfather my apologies for the breach of custom, but this cannot wait another day. I must speak with him immediately. If you cannot aplish this, find some who can.


    Yes, milord, the priest swallowed and gave a bow before disappearing.


    For a long while, Brand remained undisturbed in the hall. His eyes wandered to the painting that covered the wall behind the altar. A trick of the light was in y here to ensure a certain effect. The altar itself was bathed in light, even if onepared it to the rest of the hall and its shrines and alcoves that were well lit. No light was directed towards the wall with the painting that covered the background; this enhanced the impression of illuminating the altar while causing shadows to lie upon everything behind it. This effect was madeplete by the deep, dark colours used in the painting.


    Its enormous size obscured to some extent exactly what it depicted; Brands head turned up and down trying to grasp it all. The painting depicted two figures primarily, simr in colour but different in all other aspects. To the right was a great dragon, ck and fearsome. Its jaws were open, and mes could be seen about to emerge from deep within its maw. Its teeth were jagged; its talons seemed sharper than des. Through different nuances and shades, scales could be seen covering the dragon from its head and backwards towards the rest of its body; at some point, however, these shades faded and only deepest ck remained. It seemed as if the dragon appeared or materialised from the very void itself.


    Opposite the dragon on the left stood a knight. He too was dark, d in ck armour, the contours of which were made visible with thin, silvery lines. asionally, these lines thickened to small points that the lines ran between, such as the knights shield; against the dark blue, it seemed like the emblem upon his guard consisted of the stars of heavens vault that together formed arger, seven-pointed star. There were only two true sources of light in the painting; even the fire in the dragons maw was made with dark red colours. One such source was the knights sword, held defiantly and stretched out against the dragons throat; the de seemed to shine as if made of solid moonlight. The other source was his eyes; while the knights face was obscured by helmet and cloth, his eyes appeared like small suns inparison to the stars on his shield. He was Rihimil, the ck Knight.


    Marvellous, is it not? a voice softly spoke next to Brand. I have been here for more than forty years, and still I can get lost staring at it.


    The speaker was a short, aged man wearing a grey robe. The other people in the hall had already given Brand a wide berth, but now it only expanded. Holy One, Brand said courteously, bowing his head deeply. I am Adalbrand of House Arnling, first lieutenant of the Orders army. I apologise for the haste ced upon this meeting, and I thank you for allowing me audience.


    Well, Septimus said with a smile, it sounded as if I had little choice. Walk with me, my son, he continued, extending his hand towards the doorway that led to the gardens at the centre of the Templeplex. The fresh air met them, bringing scents of many herbs and other sprouts growing. Numerous men and women in yellow or green robes were tending to them; as the high priest passed by, they greeted him by bowing their heads but otherwise kept their attention on their work.


    What brings the first lieutenant of the Orders army to the Temple? Septimus asked, still mirthful.


    Ie with two requests, Holy One, Brand began to say. As you may know, we march to battle soon.


    Our prayers shall go with you, the high priest said; his attention was surveying the fruit around them.


    For which we are grateful, yet I am here to ask for more than that, Holy One, Brand said tentatively. I respectfully request that the Temrs be released to serve in the Order army for the uing battle.


    If this surprised the high priest or had any effect on him, he did not let it show. The second? he asked. You mentioned two requests.


    Brand took a deep breath. I would ask of you to give me the blessing of Sigvard.


    A smile crept onto Septimus face. You live up to your name, Adalbrand of House Arnling. He paused momentarily before speaking again. That is not lightly given.


    It was once conferred on every descendant of Sigvard, Brand pointed out. I should feel more confident marching into this battle with such a blessing bestowed upon me.


    It is true that it was once given at birth to every dragonborn, Septimus admitted. He ceased to pace around the gardens and turned to face Brand. How would you know this? It has not been so for centuries.


    As a page at the Citadel, I spent many hours in the royal library, Brand exined with a courteous smile of his own.


    Is that so, Septimus said contemtively. The Temrs are meant to defend the Temple, especially in times as these, he continued, steering the subject elsewhere.


    They are knights before they be Temrs. They are still knights, Brand argued. Their oath to defend the realms still binds them. The Order has need of them.


    If they should perish? the priest asked. Would you risk having the Temple defenceless?


    They will not, Brand dered with confidence.


    You sound very confident, Septimus remarked and resumed walking; Brand fell into pace next to him.


    In some matters, such as this, I am, Brand stated. If the Temrs march with us, we will have victory.


    A moment was spent in silence while a pensive look came over Septimus. At length he spoke. I cannot give you the blessing you seek. It might be misconstrued as a deration of intent the high priest does not have authority to make, he exined.


    As you say, Brand acknowledged, bowing his head slightly.


    As for the other request, I shall let the Temrs know they are needed, Septimus continued.


    Very well, Holy One. I thank you, Brand answered, bowing his head deeper. We march tomorrow.


    Septimus stopped again and ced a hand on Brands shoulder. The blessings of the Seven and Eighth shall go with you.


    Thank you, Holy One, the youngmander said earnestly.


    The young squire gave a deep bow and left, stopping briefly at the centre of the gardens to drink from the basin flowing with cool water before walking towards the path out of the Temple. In one of the hallways, an imposing figure came walking in the opposite direction; a shape easily recognisable as Berimund.


    Quite a coincidence, captain, Brand called out. What brings you here?


    I am here to speak with the norns, Berimund replied without lessening his pace; he brushed past Brand and continued deeper into theplex. Brand watched him with a puzzled expression but continued on his way.


    ~~~~


    There was a knock on the door to the chambers belonging to the jarl of Theodstan. Holebert opened and turned his head back towards the parlour, where Theodwyn sat. The captain of the Citadel, mdy, he announced the guest.


    Let the good captain inside, she spoke with a gesture before her hand returned to her needlework. Theobald, dear kinsman, to what do we owe the pleasure?


    I came to speak with your brother, Theobald said, inclining his head in greeting.


    Go ahead, Theodwyn nodded towards the jarls private chamber. He has not left it for a while.


    The captain walked over to knock on Theodorics door. Enter, came the jarls voice from inside.


    Theobald, Theodwyn said kindly, tell my brother I expect to see him at supper tonight. In case he believes hisck of eating has gone unnoticed, she added with a louder voice.


    With a slightly awkward smile, Theobald nodded and turned away to enter Theodorics room. Inside, he found the jarl sitting in a chair by a small table upon which was a furled up document and a chessboard. The pieces were not arranged in any way that made sense ording to the rules of the game, however, but were scattered across the board in a pattern not readily understood.


    Disturbing you? Theobald said gruffly.


    No, Theodoric shook his head, speaking with a weary voice. Merely considering possible situations.


    You have the same concerns as I do? the captain prodded.


    Tell me what yours are, and I will let you know if mine match, the jarl gave a hollow smile.


    I fear that the remaining Order forces and Vales army will be destroyed in a few days, Theobald spoke inly, once they reach Athelstan.


    That is one possible situation I have considered, Theodoric acknowledged.


    And? Still you sit easy? Theobald said usingly.


    What would you have me do? The jarl extended his hands in a gesture conveying hopelessness.


    Something. Anything. Strip them of their authority, Theobald suggested.


    Theodoric gave a bitterughter. That is the very problem, is it not? All those who could are dead or gone. Lord marshal and lord protector, knight marshal and dragonlord. I thought I was ingenious when I ensured Sir Reynold became lord protector. Instead it left the realm defenceless, the jarl spoke. There are none to dispute Richards authority, none to remove him frommand.


    Something must be done, Theobald insisted. You are his liege. Can you not influence him?


    Richard does not think that way, Theodoric shook his head. He cares only for the war. He is a soldier, not a leader. I know your next suggestion, he continued, raising his gaze from the chessboard to look at Theobald. Could we not convince the soldiers to mutiny?


    I had in fact not considered that, Theobald imed. That would be a dark path to tread, one which so many others have already stepped upon. If we did this as well, there would barely be a scrap of honour or dignity between the lot of us.


    Well, I have considered it, Theodoric freely confessed. But here is the problem. Richard is always first into the danger, never showing an ounce of fear. Every soldier praises his valour. Being morefortable in the front line rather than directing the fight, he is all too happy to do as Adalbrand tells him. This makes Adalbrand the truemander, a position for which he is all too skilled. And the soldiers know, the jarl said with a quiet voice. They chant his name, they beat their fists and speak ancient words in his honour. He has made them heroes, liberators of Middanhal and saviours of Adalrik. All the taverns ply them with ale, all the maids offer them smiles. They would march into Hels deep for him. The soldiers are infatuated with the pair of them, however odd they may seem together. The old hotspur and the young dragonborn.


    If you can rein in your admiration for a moment, Theobald spoke with contempt, all your words would be better directed towards finding a solution. This is what you do, kinsman. The familiar address was almost sneered. I remember your boasts, your tall tales of how you twisted thew and the noblemen to your will in the past. Find a way, hemanded.


    It is toote to stop this battle, Theodoric dered. Regardless of our personal feelings, the army will march out and meet Athelstan.


    What of afterwards? Theobald asked. Are you prepared to simply give up, let Isarn win?


    My forces remain to defend the city, Theodoric spoke up with sudden sharpness in his voice. You have four thousand men and more at your disposal. That shouldst you for months until the marshals of Thusund and Ealond finally intervene. Forget the battle, Cousin, the jarl told him. Consider it lost as I do.


    If your thoughts are so grim, what are you doing in here? the captain demanded to know.


    nning for the day after, Theodoric simply answered as his eyes nced at the document lying on the table.


    Theodoric, first bell has just rung, Theodwyns voice reached them from the parlour. Are youing?


    Seems I am summoned to supper, the jarl told his kinsman, smiling with closed lips. Theobald scoffed and left the chamber. The jarl followed a momentter, but not before he had grabbed the document and carefully ced it underneath his tunic.


    ~~~~


    The Citadel had numerous halls and vaults for many purposes, and three of thergest were mostmonly in use. One was the throne room itself. Tall pirs seemingly stretching towards the sky nked those entering from the southern side; opposite stood the Dragon Throne, the seat of power in Adalmearc. Here, the high kings would hold court and give audience in normal times; naturally, it had been empty thesest months except for the servants, who kept it in impable condition until a new king could be seated.


    The remaining tworge halls were mirrors of each other; in daily speech, they were called the great hall and the Order hall. In these, the meals in the Citadel were served; the garrison, the knights and their squires and sergeants all ate in the Order hall in the northern part of the fortress, while the court took their meal in the great hall in the southern part. As a squire and temporary lieutenantmander of the Order, Brand would typically eat in the northern hall. Since he lived at court, however, he was also free to join the courtiers in the great hall, which he often did to keep his sisterpany.


    The two scions of House Arnling had taken their ces next to each other near the high table shortly after the first evening bell had rung. On his right hand, Brand was seated next to andgrave while Arndis had secured a ce for Eleanor at her left hand. Conversation seemed in general to run free around the many tables, but there was a touch of tension to the atmosphere nheless; outside the hall, in the courtyards and the barracks, the soldiers were making their final preparations to march to battle on the following morrow.


    How long will you be gone? Arndis asked softly.


    Athelstans army is camped two, three days away, Brand answered. About a week and we should be back.


    Will it go asst time? Against the jarl?


    It will, her brother nodded. I doubt I will have asion to draw my sword.


    I trust you are right, Arndis said, cutting her meat.


    You are very brave, Sir Adalbrand, Eleanor remarked, leaning forward to nce past Arndis and at her brother.


    I am only a squire, Lady Eleanor, Brand replied with a polite smile.


    Oh, forgive me, she eximed. She had pulled her veil back in order to eat, and embarrassment was evident on her face.


    No need, Brand assured her. I expect it will change soon.


    You may have to remind me, Eleanor admitted, so that I will know how to properly address you.


    As a friend of my sister, the elder Arnling said in a pleasant voice, you may at all times address me simply as Brand.


    Oh, Eleanor breathed. How kind, she added with a slight blush, raising her goblet in front of her face.


    Their attention was diverted by Baldric, who was moving around the tables, picking up unused cups. He juggled several of them whileughing and looking elsewhere as if the acrobatic feat was of no difficulty to him. Finally, he ced them on the high table in a row. Picking up a pitcher of wine, he swung it around elegantly without spilling a single drop and let the red content pour over the goblets, filling them without letting any of the wine go to waste. As all cups were full, Baldric made a deep bow under great apuse.


    With this performance done, the jester distributed the cups. The first went to Isabel, the next to various otherdies at the high table such as Arndis and Eleanor. Grabbing the final one, Baldric gave an overlyplicated bow towards Brand and made a frivolous dance as he moved around the high table with thest goblet. His path took him out of everyones vision for a few moments as he ducked behind the high chairs; then he emerged again with a grin, steering towards Brand with thest cup.


    Without warning, one of the smaller doors at the side burst open. Berimund came charging directly at the high table with murderous intent written across his face. Confusion, almost panic began to spread like rings in the water as he pushed chairs and small tables aside, never diverting his course. People called out in uproar, but the kingthane gave them no heed. Toote did Baldric realise he was the target; one of Berimunds great hands grabbed the jester and raised him in the air, pushing him against the wall while the other hand clenched around the Baldrics throat. The cup of wine fell to the ground, spilling its contents on the floor.


    Lord Berimund! Brand spoke with a strong, stern voice as he rose from his seat. What is the meaning of this?


    It was him, the kingthane said through gritted teeth while Baldric gasped for air. He did it! He murdered the prince!


    Waves of shock rolled through the gathering at hearing this, nobles and servants alike. Please, Baldric croaked, he has gone mad.


    My lord, Brand spoke as calmly as was possible under the circumstances, you have made such usations before. I must ask you to release your hold on this man and exin yourself.


    I know just how slippery this rat is, I am not letting him get away, Berimund spat, and this time I am certain. There is no doubt in my mind. I looked at everything, you hear me? he shouted. Taking a few heavy breaths, the kingthane spoke again. It would take an archer of impossible skill to hit an arrow through the window of the carriage. Even if that could be done, their arrow would travel in a straight line at best. No matter what, it would have struck the prince in a downward angle.


    Please, Baldric breathed, almost inaudibly. Someone, save me, he gasped.


    Brand frowned but did not move. Continue, he said to Berimund.


    I spoke with the norns who prepared the princes body for burial. They remember as I do. The wound was underneath the princes chin, an upwards angle. Impossible for an arrow to strike that way, Berimund spoke menacingly, but a very short person standing on the floor of the carriage, wielding an arrow as a knife, that is exactly the kind of wound he would inflict.


    Please, please, Baldric reiterated. He is mad, help me.


    Why? Brand asked, and his eyes turned towards the jester. He paused briefly before he spoke again. Why would you kill the prince?


    There had been murmurs and whispers constantly while the scene yed out; as the question was uttered, silence fell. Baldric, whose expression had been twisted with frantic fear, calmed to some extent. His eyes seemed suddenly to glow with malice. Why, why indeed. That little brat  he spoke with contempt, prompting Berimund to tighten his grasp around his throat.


    Let him speak, Brandmanded. Who is your master? Upon whose order did you murder the heir?


    All of you, lords anddies, so high and noble, Baldric spat out. I was not even worthy to lick your boots! If I could not amuse you, I would have been thrown in the river rather than disgust you with my appearance!


    Tell me your master, Brand threatened, or I will not restrain Lord Berimund from his urges.


    Two dragons I have in. It would have been a third if not for this oaf, came the only reply. Baldric gave a wicked grin and nted his front teeth in Berimunds hand. Therge man gave a roar of pain and surprise, his hands losing grasp of the jester. Like an eel, Baldric escaped any attempt to seize him and ran as quickly as his short legs would carry him out of the hall. Several soldiers and some of the noblemen took up the chase.


    The fool ran up the stairs to one of the higher floors and down a corridor until his flight came to an end. From both sides, men approached him, blocking his path. With a sneer, the jester jumped up a nearby windowsill and used his knee to kick the window open. He has awakened, were Baldrics final words as he jumped with a maniacal glint in his eyes. His pursuers ran forward, toote to catch him; looking out the window, they beheld where his body hit the ground down in the courtyard. All they saw were brightly coloured clothes sprayed with blood and bits of flesh in a gruesome heap on the paved stones.

 Chapter 51: From Friend to Foe

    Chapter 51: From Friend to Foe


    From Friend to Foe


    The River Cudrican


    Once the Order army left Middanhal, it precipitated several days of manoeuvring and scouting. They linked up with the soldiers from Vale and marched theirbined strength towards Athelstan. He simrly had his outriders keep close watch of their progression while moving his own army around in a careful dance caused by both sides apprehensions. The Order did not wish to initiate a battle on terrain favourable to Athelstan, who in turn needed time to fully understand the enemy he now faced.


    Five days in all had passed before the two armies finally found themselves arrayed against each other. The main feature of the battlefield was a small river that flowed quickly with water from the Weolcans, moving from eastern Adalrik through the realm until it flowed into the Mihtea. Athelstans army had crossed the river a few days earlier and then kept watch of the fords, hoping to harass the Order army in their crossing should they pursue. Countering this, the Order had crossed the river at night, managing to establish a foothold on the southern side of the river and defending themselves against Isarns skirmishers until the rest of the army had crossed as well.


    Rather than give them time to make proper camp and entrench themselves, Athelstan had marched out the following morning to give battle. He had approached them from the northeast, keeping the river on his side to prevent being nked from that direction while marching. So now, the armies stood on the southern bank with the brook guarding their left and right nk, respectively. It was not too deep and possible to ford on foot, but the swift current made it a daunting prospect nheless; even on horseback, it would be slow progress to cross it.


    To the far east of the battlefield, Athelstan sat atop his horse. Eumund was mounted on his own steed next to him; nearby were their sergeants, bannermen, and simr attendants. Further back, the Isarn cavalry waited on restless horses as the animals could practically smell the anticipation in the air.


    Are you sure we should not keep men in reserve? Eumund asked. Ahead of them stood the entire infantry of the Isarn army, forming a battle line. They have, after all, the young knight continued, gesturing with his head towards the Order forces.


    Because they follow the standard tactics, Athelstan exined patiently. Since they have superior numbers, their battle line is still the same length as ours despite keeping some as reserves. We do not have that luxury. We cannot afford that they manage to envelop our nks early in the battle.


    As you say, Eumund acquiesced. I am surprised they would give battle at this ce nheless. The t terrain is perfect for our horses. One would almost think they had their own cavalry, he said with a suspicious nce across the field.


    Our scouts were thorough, Athelstan shook his head. They do not have more than a dozen horses in their camp. They are cing their hopes on the river because it will protect their one nk. It will not be enough, unfortunately.


    I will bring our cavalry against their right, Eumund assented.


    Make sure you be swift, Athelstan cautioned him. Do not swing too wide or attempt to strike them from behind. The danger here will be if their reinforcements notice your approach and can intercept before your attack ispleted.


    I understand, Eumund nodded. We will bear down upon them directly from the side and shatter their nk before they can stop us.


    Remember that one assault may not be enough, Athelstan further advised. If their lines do not disintegrate immediately, pull your men back and strike again. Twice should destroy their ranks fully.


    What of their reserves? his nephew questioned. Will they not stop me before we can attack a second time?


    Their reserves will be tied up trying to save the nk after your first strike, Athelstan replied. They must send their soldiers to strengthen it and keep it from breaking apart against our infantry. The only danger is if they can respond to your initial approach swiftly enough to counter it. If your first attack strikes before they can intercept you, their reserves will bemitted to restoring their ranks. You will have free reins after that.


    Very well, Eumund dered. See you after the battle, Uncle. He turned his horse to ride back towards his cavalry. Behind him, Athelstan gave a smallmand to one of his bannermen, who waved his g as a signal. Cautiously at first, the Isarn infantry began marching towards the Order lines.


    ~~~~


    Opposite, on the far west side of the battlefield, Brand sat on his horse, likewise surrounded by many others. His sergeant and several of the thanes of Theodstan protecting him were close by; two other noblemen present were Konstans and Hardmar with their own guards nearby. On horseback, they had a small height advantage that allowed them to gaze over most of the field. It was lush and green, and in peaceful times, the nearby vige would no doubt have cattle or other animals grazing here. Now, only boots touched the grass and growth.


    Directly ahead of Brand and hispany were up towards a thousand soldiers in Vale colours, the men kept in reserve. Beyond was the actual battle line. In the centre were the Order soldiers, led by Richard himself; the nks consisted of the remaining Vale soldiers. On the far left was the river; on Brands far right was only open grasnd. Seeing the Isarn army set into motion, Brand nodded to his ensign, and thetter swung his banner back and forth. Near the middle of the battlefield, Richard saw this and gave the order to advance. Slowly but surely, the two armies neared each other.


    Until this moment, I still found it hard to believe that Sir Richard would leave suprememand during battle to a squire, Konstans remarked with a contemtive voice.


    I would say that is one of the strengths of the Order, Brand replied. We use the skills of every man avable, be he knight, squire, man-at-arms, or recruit. Did you not say that Lord Hardmar brought this army that now fights on the field? It would seem that age orck thereof is no hindrance for achievements, he added with a smile. Vagueughter was heard from Geberic and the thanes of Theodstan.


    The armies seem evenly matched, Hardmar inserted. As many of them as on our side on the front lines. When will the men held in reserve be sent into battle? We must use our greater numbers, surely, the young nobleman dered.


    When the enemy cavalry attacks, Brand exined, they will hit our right nk with a crushing blow. Already fighting against the enemy infantry, our men will be hard pressed. We will need to reinforce them at that time.


    You seem certain this wille to pass, Konstans mentioned.


    The river protects our left nk, Brand gestured towards it. The only opening is to the right.


    But why would Athelstan ept fighting here if it limits the manoeuvres of his cavalry? Konstans frowned.


    The terrain is t, Brand pointed out. It is otherwise perfect for his horsemen to execute their charge. It is worth the trade in his mind, Brand borated, because if his cavalry strikes our nk but once, it will most likely be devastating. We cannot expect our lines to hold much longer after that happens.


    You are describing defeat, Hardmar eximed. Will the reserves turn the tide? Save our nk from their cavalry?


    Not as such, Brand admitted. They would arrive toote. Pressured by Isarns infantry, I would expect our right nk to crumble.


    Then send the soldiers now! Hardmar all but yelled. Command the reserves to reinforce the nk now!


    That would be no use, Brand shook his head. If wemit our reserve now, they will spot this. Nothing can prevent their cavalry from circling around the battlefield and attacking our centre or right nk from behind. Because our reserves are positioned where they are now, their cavalry must attack the closest target. They must attack with speed before we can respond.


    So what are we gaining from this? Konstans asked. We have a thousand men kept out ofbat, and you say that their cavalry charge will spell defeat for us.


    We gain enough. We know exactly where their cavalry will attack, Brand answered, turning his eyes towards his soldiers fighting to his right.


    ~~~~


    Upon the field where the lines shed, steel and blood were sprayed in the air. Every moment, men died with agonising screams. Spears thrust forward, shields raised in protection, mail armour ripping. For the most part, the armies were on equal grounds; the same number fell on either side. The only difference was in the very centre of the battle lines where the levies of Isarn faced the Order soldiers. While some of thetter were still recruits, fighting their first battle, most of them had be experienced veterans by trials endured. They had crossed the Weolcan Mountains on forced march, they had conquered Middanhal, and they had defeated the jarl of Isarn. Furthermore, they had survived Lake Myr, Athelstans betrayal and sudden assault; now they thirsted for revenge and none more so than Richard.


    A champion of the solstice, the mens heart soared upon hearing his battle cry time and again, whenever another foe fell to his de. Motivation, discipline, skill, leadership, the Order soldiers were superior in all these respectspared to the warriors of Isarn; slowly, the men of the Star gained ground as they hollowed out the Isarn ranks.


    From a long distance, Eumund was watching the battle. He had already moved his forces a mile south of the field in preparation to strike. With his ears alone, he could hear that the battle had not onlymenced, but that both armies were fullymitted; the sound of thousands upon thousands of irond men wielding steel weapons could not be misunderstood. Turning to those nearest him, Eumund gave a slight nod. They responded in kind and passed the message on. Soon, the horsemen lined up in formation, taking shape like a wedge that would now drive deeply into the Order ranks and split them apart. Eumund took renewed hold of his reins with his shield arm; spurring his horse forward, he held his spear in a tight grip. Behind him, his men did likewise; before long, they had reached a fast-paced trot and lowered their spears to strike into the side of the Orders right nk.


    ~~~~


    The battle was raging across the frontlines when Brand and hispanions saw the cloud of dust kicked up by Eumund and his cavalry. The riders were approaching swiftly; within a few moments, they would reach the armies. Brand gave a nod to his bannerman, who made a signal. By the reserves, Fionn waved his banner in response andmanded the soldiers to march forward. However, it was clear that by the time the reinforcing soldiers arrived, Eumund and his cavalry would have had all the time necessary to strike a deep blow into the ranks of the Vale men fighting on the side of the Order army.


    Trapped in the struggle with the Isarn footmen, the Vale soldiers on the right nk discoveredte that Eumunds cavalry was charging at them. There was a desperate attempt to form a line against the onught, hindered by the confusion and loud noise of battle. Of the many hundreds standing in the ranks, only a small number had the quick wits and cool nerves to react as two thousand and four hundred hooves bearing six hundred riders came thundering towards them. Then the horsemen crashed into the defending foot soldiers.


    Shock rippled through the ranks of the Vale soldiers, and for a moment, it seemed like a building shaking during earthquake, its very foundation threatened with being ripped away. To the distant onlookers, the dust and bewilderment was too great to observe what had happened; only those nearby could gain any measure of what happened next. The Vale ranks reasserted themselves, their walls of shield and steel steadied, their line held. What should have been a rout became a stalwart defence as the Vale soldiers surrounded the Isarn horsemen and struck back.


    It took a little while before those near Brand could see what had happened; as they did, their eyes widened and their foreheads became wrinkled in thought. Matthew eximed a sound of triumph andughter while the thanes grinned and exchanged remarks.


    What happened? Hardmar burst out. I thought the enemy would shatter our ranks.


    Under normal circumstances, yes, Brand acknowledged. All but the most experienced, disciplined soldier will waver when he faces fifteen hundred pounds of flesh and steel charging at him. If you position fifty of the strongest warriors in the right ce, however, no cavalry may break their resolve.


    How did you do this? Konstans asked with a frown.


    Among the regr soldiers are fifty Temrs, Brand borated. They were ordered to stand back and wait until the cavalry charge. Their solemand was to withstand it and keep the nk steady.


    Temrs? Konstans eximed. You have the Temrs fighting in your army? How so?


    They are knights of the Order, Brand responded casually. This is their duty. The Highfather understood this and gave his eptance. Konstans did not reply to this but merely sent Brand a scrutinising nce. The rest gazed towards the southeast and the right nk.


    On their own, fifty Temrs would still have been overrun by six hundred horsemen charging them. But here, their steadfastness anchored the entire nk and gave courage to theirrades; although few in number, the Temrs became a dagger that found the opening in Athelstans armour and struck back. Now, Athelstans army was bleeding. The knights knew their task, and they struck firstly against the horses of the riders. It became an equine ughter, but the result was unquestionable. It turned dangerous horsemen striking from a position of strength into overwhelmed foot soldiers, surrounded by enemies. Eumund tried to call for a retreat, but the word barely managed to escape his lips before his horse was felled beneath him and he tumbled to the ground. Quickly getting up on his feet, he gripped his sword.


    From a distance, Athelstan saw his cavalry be entangled in the fight and unable to turn the tide of battle as he had predicted. Next, the reserves under Fionn were reaching the ranks and adding to the ughter. Looking at his attendants, none of them had insight or hope to offer. Dismay spreading across his face, Athelstan drew his sword and spurred his horse forward in a final charge.


    ~~~~


    From their vantage point, Brand and those around him could see a handful of riders on the other side of the shing armies. It was Athelstan and his personal retinue, which counted about fifty of his best warriors; soon, they struck into the nk, assisting Eumund and his beleaguered cavalry. As the lines were torn apart, the colours of the fighting armies swirled together in a maelstrom of blood and steel. It became impossible to tell what was happening and which side was winning; even to those less experienced in war, however, it seemed clear that the battle was being decided in that very ce and in that very moment. Reaching into his pocket, Brand closed his fingers around the figurine he carried with him.


    Will you not react? Konstans asked. It seems that the Temrs are not sufficient.


    The lines will hold, Brand dered confidently, though his face was nk.


    I would be less certain, Hardmar remarked. I see more ck than gold down there.


    They will hold, Brand reiterated.


    ~~~~


    Confusion reigned where the battle lines shed; it only be clear what had happened after the battle was concluded. As Athelstan and his retinue struck the embattled Vale soldiers on the southern nk, their lines wavered; the physical shock of the assault could not easily be absorbed into the already chaotic ranks. It took a moment, but then the Vale soldiers began to be pushed back, their lines dissolving.


    This might have turned the battle decisively if not for the presence of one man. While Fionn had sent the reinforcements under hismand to attack the Isarn cavalry as instructed, the knight had not immediately entered battle personally; with a cool head almost uncharacteristic to his nature, he had remained outside the sphere ofbat, overseeing his soldiers.


    Thus, when Athelstans charge reached the lines, Fionn had spotted it in advance. He gathered the soldiers closest to him that were not yet embroiled inbat and led them in a counter-charge. For a brief while longer, it remained uncertain who would be favoured with victory; like a pendulum, the fortunes of war seemed inexorably to swing back and forth, never resting with either side. Atst Fionn and his followers reached the gap in the ranks of theirrades and were able to fill it. Strengthening the lines of the Vale soldiers, who found new courage, Athelstansst attempt to gain victory was halted.


    ~~~~


    While the oue of the battle had been decided in less than an hour, the fighting continued for many more. The Isarn army gave valiant resistance against the inevitable for as long as they could, but eventually, their battle line dissolved and their forces were separated, surrounded by Order and Vale soldiers. Finally, the men of Isarn threw their weapons to the ground. All to a man, they discarded spears, swords, and shields, either to surrender or to allow themselves easier flight.


    As you predicted, Matthew said happily to his lord.


    Brands face wore an unimpressed expression. It was not hard. He stretched his fingers, which bore the marks of how tightly he had clutched the chess piece now resting in his pocket.


    A great victory, milord, Geberic congratted him, and many of the thanes gave their assent to this, including those following Konstans.


    You have earned a reputation today, Hardmar spoke with a smile wider than his mouth. Konstans did not speak; he merely kept his discerning nce on Brand, weighing unspoken thoughts in his mind.


    A footman came walking from the cluster of armies towards their small group. Upon approach, they could see it was Graulf, sergeant to Richard. Brand spurred his horse gently forward until the other man was within speaking distance. The enemy wishes to surrender, milord, Graulf called out with a satisfied tone of voice. Sir Richard thought you should be present.


    So I shall be, Brand nodded. Matthew, he turned his head briefly to his squire, let Graulf have your horse. By the looks of it, he has fought a long battle. He set his steed into motion, trotting towards the gathering of soldiers.


    Reaching the army, Brand dismounted and left the reins of his horse to his sergeant. Walking through the throng of soldiers, they turned and hailed him, Order and Vale soldiers alike. Some shouted his name, some his lineage, but all gave him honour. As he moved among them, Brand nodded curtly in recognition of the valour they had shown and in eptance of their adoration; many of them extended their hands to touch him on his shoulders. Eventually, he reached Richard. The knight was bloody in every ce, but it did not seem to trouble him; he wore a grin and seemed exuberant.


    Sir Richard, I knew I need not fear for your wellbeing, Brand greeted the knight with a smile. Already Graulf has told me that you fought like a man invincible.


    Come! Richard eximed, pping Brands shoulder. There are some men of high standing here that you should meet, he jested, gesturing for Brand to follow him. They moved through the crowds of soldiers until they reached one of the many circles where Isarn soldiers sat, unarmed and under guard after their surrender.


    Richard, Athelstan burst out, standing up as he saw the margrave of Alwood. This was you? I did not know you were my opponent on this field. Richard did not reply but simply stood aside, making way for the man that followed him.


    It was I, Brand said forcefully, appearing between the soldiers as he walked forward. Eumund had remained seated, looking downwards, but now he raised his eyes with disbelief; the same expression was painted across Athelstans face. I was your adversary on this day. You lost by my hand, the squire told his former lord while Richard wore a satisfied smile.


    You, Eumund all but spat as he also rose from the ground.


    Yes, I, Brand almost sneered. In one hand, he held a king piece meant for a game of chess; with a contemptuous look, the squire threw it to the man who had once been his master, protector, andrade. You may have this back. I have no further use for it, Brand spoke dismissively, though traces of anger in his voice belied his cool demeanour.


    Athelstan blinked a few times as he caught the figurine before heposed himself. I surrender myself and my forces to your mercy, he told the Ordermanders with as much dignity as he could retain.


    You will find that in short supply, Brand said disdainfully. ce this one in chains once we are back in camp. And that one, hemanded, gesturing towards Eumund as he spoke thest words. Bring the rest of them back to camp under guard. Without further words, the squire turned his back and walked away. Athelstan watched Brands departure with a dismayed expression on his noble brow and a tight grasp on the king piece in his hand as he allowed the Order soldiers to lead him away.

 Chapter 52: The Spoils of Peace

    Chapter 52: The Spoils of Peace


    The Spoils of Peace


    Middanhal


    In the capital, they were anxiously awaiting news. It had been a week since the army left, and it felt as if the entire city was holding its breath. There were constant nces to the south, wondering if Middanhal would soon be under siege again. Those who had money to spare bought food for their stocks. Salt was near impossible to find and worth its weight in silver.


    Inside the Citadel itself, Theodoric sat in one of the rooms of his quarters. He was seated by a table with numerous slips of paper; on each was written a name. Constantly, the jarl shuffled the slips around in aplicated pattern not discernible to the outside observer. As he heard the door to the hallway open, he looked up and prepared to cover his work; he rxed as he saw it was Holwine. What did you learn? he asked of her.


    All of Lord Ingmonds margraves are in the city. Some in the Citadel, some in their private domiciles.


    Good, Theodoric muttered, frowning as he moved some names around. I expect the support of every southern nobleman, especially those who were prisoners of Isenhart when all this began.


    What if you do not have their support? Holwine asked.


    I have four thousand men in the city, Theodoric shrugged. I doubt Theobald will oppose me either.


    Holwine moved around to stare at the collection of names on the table. You are certain this is possible?


    As long as I can scrape thirty-five noblemen together, it will be legal, the jarl dered.


    You do not fear the Kings Quill will object?


    The Kings Quill is in my debt. He will not stand in my way, Theodoric said with a satisfied smile.


    When does the Adalthing convene? his servant asked.


    I gave the document to the Quill a week ago, as soon as the Order army had left. He must allow for time to send messengers, Theodoric exined. The shortest dy allowed is two weeks, so another seven days.


    Your n hinges on the noblemen being frightened enough to lend their voices as you wish, Holwine spoke slowly. What if the jarl Vale arrives in time? He will not allow this or that you coerce his vassals.


    I do not anticipate that he will be allowed to reach the city, the jarl of Theodstan said with a satisfied smile. Soon, Athelstan will have defeated the Vale army and begin his siege of Middanhal anew.


    And while the nobles are frightened of Sir Athelstan beyond their walls, you convene the Adalthing within and have them elect you lord protector, Holwine spoke softly. I admit, it is an elegant n.


    Noises reached them from afar, struggling to pass through the walls and doors of the Citadel. They both turned their head. Find out what is going on, Theodoricmanded, and Holwine left without dy.


    ~~~~


    As the Order army marched triumphantly into Middanhal, the excitement reached a frenzy. Already the jarl Isarn had been defeated and sent scurrying back to Silfrisarn, but now his dreaded brother, the victor of Cairn Donn, had been annihted on the battlefield. Athelstans army was gone, and the jarls brother and both his sons were in irons. Every citizen was on the street, praising the army exuberantly.


    Brand and Richards names were on all lips, and the Order soldiers were shown every courtesy. Behind them marched severalpanies of the Vale soldiers, although their banners had the colours and insignia of House Hardling; they were also given adoration in full. In this moment, all sorrows were forgotten, the war was all but won, the traitors and rebels defeated. Even Brand, typically near emotionless in his expressions at such times, allowed himself to smile and receive the admirations of the crowd. Today, Middanhal rejoiced.


    ~~~~


    Theodoric stormed into his chamber after witnessing the procession of the army. His hands grabbed a nearby hat and wringed it as if it were alive and he desired to break its neck; unable to aplish this, he flung it away. Behind him came Holwine, keeping her distance.


    You seem upset, brother dear, Theodwyn remarked casually. She had arrived before him and busied herself with sewing.


    Have you not seen? Richard and the upstart Adalbrand returns with victory, Theodoric eximed, disbelief tainting hisst words.


    Of course, I watched it with Arndis. But I thought she should greet her brother without me. A private moment between siblings, she said with a smile. She gave a look towards Holwine, who left the room.


    Do you not understand? Theodoric stared at her. I have lost my only advantage. Soon, Valerian will arrive to the Adalthing. He will never ept that I be lord protector. All my ns are foiled.


    Dear, your ns were crooked to begin with, Theodwyn told him calmly. Even if the city came under siege, Konstans would most likely have returned here. He would never have allowed his brothers margraves to support you.


    I had options, Theodoric imed. Controlling the city and as the only jarl present at the Adalthing, I would have found a way. But of course, Adalbrand does what none expected and defeats his old master.


    Do I understand correctly? Theodwyn said with an edge sliding into her voice, and she turned her gaze to keep it focused on her brother. Are youining that Athelstan and his army were defeated? The very end to which you left Middanhal more than a month ago. Because it sounds to me as if you arementing that the rebellion has been defeated.


    Not like this! Theodoric yelled.


    How like this? Theodwyn mimicked his words. By Richard and young Adalbrand? Without you? Is that what truly bothers you, Brother? That it was not you who aplished this?


    Of course not, Theodoric grimaced. That is absurd, he imed, though his voice grew weaker.


    I think, his sister said carefully, you have been so convinced that this all hinged on you, you forgot that others might aplish something. You have always seen yourself as the saviour in any story and others as the obstacles that gue you. Have it ever urred to you that you might be the obstacle? she asked with a pointed look.


    That is absurd, the jarl reiterated. Everything I have done has been to protect the realm.


    As opposed to Richard and Adalbrand? his sister retorted.


    He is dangerous, Theodoric imed. He could attempt to seize power, legitimise his im as dragonborn through force.


    Has he made any move towards this? Like you have when you had the Quill summon the Adalthing to be convened solely that it might elect you ruler, Theodwyn said.


    That is different, Theodoric argued, pacing around the room. I thought it was the only way to save us.


    Unlike Adalbrand? Whose decisions have led to the liberation of Middanhal and the defeat of not one, but two armies of Isarn, Theodwyn countered. Including Athelstan, whom we all feared was invincible. Exin to me exactly, brother dear, what is his offence against the realm? Apart from disagreeing with you, of course.


    He wants to Theodoric began to say. In the mountains, he Closing his mouth, the jarl nced at his sister, who sat looking at him expectantly. Theodoric parted his lips to attempt another reply but could find no words. He sank down into a chair. I am the obstacle, he said in little more than a whisper. What have I done?


    That, my dear, I leave in your hands to uncover, Theodwyn said undisturbed, resuming her needlework.


    The Adalthing meets in a week, Theodoric said. I have no idea what will happen. I have lost all control. Set events into motion beyond my reach.


    Then I suggest you use the remaining week well, Theodwyn told him with a sharp nce before her eyes returned to needle and thread.


    ~~~~


    In the evening, there was a knock to the door of the royal library. Slowly, it creaked on its hinges as it was swung open with difficulty. A girl, no more than ten years old, stood inside. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw it was Brand at the door and could discern him to be a nobleman. Yes, milord? she asked nervously.


    I am here to see the Quill, Brand said with an amused smile. He nced behind the girl into the room and saw many others like her, engaged in reading. I did not realise I hade to a lore house. My apologies if I disturb, he spoke, his lips still curled upwards.


    Master Quill is in the scriptorium, the girl spoke, pronouncing thest word with a little difficulty. She stepped back and pointed in the direction of the chamber.


    Thank you, I know where it is, Brand said kindly, walking past her. Fully visible to everyone in the room, all the girls stopped reading and watched him with curious eyes as the squire continued forward and knocked on the door of the scriptorium.


    Enter, a voice said softly. Inside, Brand found Quill and Egil engaged in their work. Brand, the lore master smiled. I have heard I am to congratte you yet again.


    My thanks, Brand replied, inclining his head. I havee for a specific reason, however. Quill looked at him expectantly. My familys Tome of Names. I became twenty-one only a few days ago, and so it is time.


    Of course, Quill eximed. Your birth words. The book is here, the scribe said, pointing to a desk. I am all but finished restoring it, should you like to take it with you.


    Brand shook his head. It is better kept here, he muttered as he approached it.


    As you wish. There is one thing I should mention, unrted to this, Quill hastened to say, which made Brand turn to look at him with a curious nce. Jarl Theodoric has summoned the Adalthing.


    How so? Brand frowned. He does not have authority to do so.


    He had a document, signed and sealed, Quill exined.


    Of course, Brand smiled sardonically. By Sir Roderic, I take it. The document that Jarl Isarn intended to use. At least we know what happened to it.


    Messengers have been sent to those far away, Quill told him. However, the jarl insisted I kept it quiet from those already in the city for as long as I could. Thew is unfortunately not very clear on this, the scribe admitted, wringing his hands a bit. While those living elsewhere must be given two weeks warning, there is no such guarantee for those already in the capital. I could not refuse the jarl of Theodstan in this request.


    I understand, Brand said quietly. Thank you for telling me.


    I will have to inform the rest of the Thing soon, Quill revealed. But I wanted to let you know in person.


    Again, my thanks, Brand told him. For now, I will do what I came here for, and then I shall leave you to your work.


    We will give you some privacy, Quill promised. Egil,e along.


    The scribe and his apprentice left the room, leaving Brand alone. He approached the Tome of Names with its hundreds of pages. Carefully, the young man opened it to the first page. He found the name Arn, founder of the house. The once faded letters glowed strong. The entire page was taken up by this person, his titles, and all his deeds. The War of the Dragon, the creation of the Alliance of Adalmearc, the kings of Saelnar bowing to him as the first high king, the building of the Temple and the Arnsweg, founding the Order, and having the first bricksid for the Langstan.


    Brand continued through the pages, moving through eight centuries of history and lineage. Finally, he reached the secondst entry, just above the one concerning his sister. His eyes examined the words, his lips moving in pace as he read them. The name of his father and mother, his forbears, and finally his birth words. They were an ancient northern custom, spoken at the birth of each child by the norn overseeing the event. The words were a gift from the goddess, spoken through her servant, meant to foretell the fortunes of the newborn child and only revealed when he or she came of age. As Brand read them, his lips became quiet until they sloped up into a smile. He let his finger slide over the ink and the names upon the page; his errand done, he closed the book, turned, and left.


    ~~~~


    After the battle, Konstans and his retinue had returned to Middanhal with the army, allowing himself and Hardmar to take part in the procession of the victors as they marched into the city. He was not staying at the house belonging to his family, however; during Isarns upation, it had been set fire to, and it was not inhabitable. Instead, Konstans had quarters in the Citadel befitting the status of his house.


    He was not alone at this particr hour. Apart from the usual servants and thanes, a few other men of rank were with him. One was Hardmar; Konstans was often found in conversation with him. Another was Konstantine; satisfied that House Vale had submitted to the leadership of the Order and was not a threat to the realm, Theobald had released Konstantine from confinement in his chamber and allowed him to re-join his father. The practical result was that Konstantine had moved from confinement in one room in the Citadel to confinement in another; upon their reunion, Konstans only reaction to his son was to gesture towards an inner chamber. Ever since, Konstantine had remained inside, too intimidated to ask his father permission to leave.


    The door opened to admit Arion into the room. Milords, he spoke, bowing his head to Konstans and Hardmar. I have heard word you should hear.


    Speak, Konstans ordered.


    Messengers have been sent to every lord of the Adalthing not in the city, Arion said pointedly.


    Including my brother? the nobleman of Vale asked.


    Yes, milord, Arion nodded.


    So the Quill is convening the Adalthing, Konstans said contemtively. But not at his own word. Whose, I wonder.


    The jarl of Theodstan was seen visiting him days ago, Arion told his master.


    Interesting, Konstans stroked his chin.


    What does this mean? The Adalthing cannot assemble except at solstice, Hardmar eximed.


    It may under extraordinary circumstances if done so by the proper authority, Konstans replied. I do not know how Theodstan convinced the Quill to do so, but it is irrelevant. When did the messengers leave?


    About a week ago, milord, Arion answered.


    The Adalthing cannot meet until every lord outside the city has been given two weeks to travel hither, Konstans pondered, so it will be at least another week.


    What does it matter, Hardmar spoke frustrated. You said we had a year! One procession into the city with my banners will not make much difference.


    Konstans turned his head and gave the youth a cold stare. It is not themon rabble on the street who will choose the heir. It is the noblemen of the realm. Restrain yourself.


    But what can be done in a week? What can be won? Hardmar asked angrily.


    Everything, Konstans dered confidently. The others are as pressed for time as we are. I do not know what game Theodstan is ying, but I doubt he anticipated that Ingmond would be freed from captivity. My brother will arrive here once tidings reach him. Both the southern jarls will be present for this Adalthing, whereas I doubt Isarn will dare to show his face. A predators smile crept onto Konstans face. The sanctity of the Adalthing will not protect Isarn once the Thing is dismissed. In fact, I think Theodstans hastiness will be his undoing. But I better meet with him. Arion, arrange it, he told the chambein, who bowed and left.


    What will you say to the jarl? Hardmar wanted to know.


    I do not know yet, Konstans admitted, but I will start by reminding him my brother has twice the margraves he has. That should make him willing to negotiate. Rest easy, he told the young nobleman. As I have told you before, you will have what was promised by the House of Vale.


    ~~~~


    After his visit to the library, Brand returned to his chambers. Inside, he found Arndis sitting in the parlour by a table upon which wereid a selection of pastries; they were still warm, and their scent reached Brand easily. What is this? her brother asked with a smile.


    We have much to celebrate, Arndis replied. Your victory and that you are now of age, not to mention the swift conclusion of this war. So I sent Jenny to the kitchen.


    That is a pleasant thought, Brand told her as he took a seat. I regret that I may bring unhappy news to cast a shadow over this.


    What is wrong? Arndis frowned.


    Quill told me that the Adalthing has been summoned. It will gather soon, in a week, Brand exined.


    Is this troublesome? The realm is without leadership, Arndis argued, which the Adalthing may provide.


    It may and most likely will, Brand assented. A lord protector will be chosen to rece Sir Reynold. I doubt any will argue in favour of keeping him if he is even still alive. We have heard no word from Hthiod, and they never received the reinforcements promised from Adalrik.


    So what is the matter? Arndis asked concerned.


    We freed Jarl Ingmond from being Athelstans captive. He knows about the death of his wife and child, Brand said slowly. Furthermore, he knows the details. He was most adamant to be told everything, understandably so. He agrees with Jarl Theodstan as to whom he should me.


    I suppose we could not expect him to be understanding, Arndis remarked.


    Brand shook his head. It was my decision to attack Isarns house, I even led the attack personally. While the good jarl may not assault amander of the Order, I have little doubt that he will use his influence to a simr gain.


    The Adalthing, Arndis said. But he is only one jarl. Alone, he can aplish nothing.


    No, Brand agreed. But another victim of that same skirmish was Lord Jaunis, whose daughter is married to Jarl Vale.


    Two jarls as enemies, Arndis swallowed. I had forgotten the ties of marriage between Jaunis and Vale. What will they do against you at the Adalthing?


    I doubt I can be sent into exile, Brand pondered. Imitted no crime when I attacked Isarns house...


    But? Arndis encouraged him to continue.


    They will not allow me to continue leading this war. I will be removed frommand, one way or the other, Brand predicted.


    Can they do that? You serve at the behest of the Order, not the Adalthing, Arndis pointed out. Sir Richard does not seem like he would dismiss you because others demand it.


    It is murky, Brand admitted. A new lord protector may not necessarily dismiss me or Sir Richard as Ordermanders. But there are other ways to exert pressure, he continued. It will require lengthy sieges to break the North and Jarl Isarns strongholds. They can send us north but deny us reinforcements, supplies, and we would never be able to end the war. Our army would be whittled down until we had nothing left, and they would send their own army with their own captain north to finish the war in my ce.


    They would do such a thing? Arndis frowned. Keep you from defeating these traitors, all for revenge? Can they not see what a threat Jarl Isarn poses?


    Revenge or other reasons, Brand offered. With my victories, I am bing a rival. Jarl Theodstan, for instance, I think he now sees me as a greater threat than Jarl Isarn ever was.


    Strange, Arndis remarked. His sister is my close friend, yet such enmity exists between the two of you.


    We saw things very differently during this campaign, Brand exined. At first, he had doubts about my capabilities as amander. Now he fears I am too capable.


    But how will they win this war without you?


    Athelstan is in chains, Brand considered. The jarl has lost half his forces. They do not need me to besiege Silfrisarn or starve Jarl Isarn out.


    So what do we do? Arndis asked. We havee too far to let these jarls seize everything from us.


    Brand gave a vague smile. I am not sure we can do anything. The Adalthing will meet, the southern jarls will decide as they see fit, and I will be pressured into abandoning my post. Probably given a post somewhere such as Heohlond, where they hope I will perish in a pointless skirmish.


    Surely you do not ept this? Arndis asked sternly.


    No, Brand spoke after a moment. No. It would make all my actions be in vain if nothing is gained.


    Arndis frowned, deep in thought. The southern jarls will never look on you with friendly eyes. We need Jarl Theodstan on our side.


    Brandughed quietly. If you can make that happen, my achievements will pale inparison.


    You may have campaigned with the jarl, Arndis began to speak, but I spent a month locked in a room with his sister, and she has more influence on his decisions than is apparent. In fact, I imagine Theodwyn has made it seem so on purpose.


    Brand gave his sibling a doubtful look. You believe the jarls sister can make him forget that he has disapproved of my every action these many weeks?


    Everything I have heard, Jarl Theodstan is a practical man. Is it unreasonable that he should see the benefit of befriending Adalbrand, victor of both Bradon and Cudrican?


    If befriending me also means making an enemy of both the southern jarls, he would have cause for hesitation, Brand argued.


    It needs not be overt, Arndis countered. Merely an understanding. You are twenty-one years old, Brand. We have many years to work with, and one day you will be a friend worth having. The jarl will see that.


    Very well, Brand assented, let us imagine that Jarl Theodstan sees matters your way. He cannot influence the Adalthing against both the jarls Vale and Ingmond.


    No, Arndis frowned, her countenance heavy with thought. But if we know what their aim is, perhaps we can turn it to our advantage.


    What do you have in mind? Brand asked.


    I may have an idea, his sister said. Come, it is time you formally introduce me to the jarl of Theodstan. She rose from her seat as did Brand, and they walked out of the room; outside, the kingthanes took position behind them. cing her arm under his, Arndis walked with Brand towards Theodorics chambers.

 Chapter 53: Atheling

    Chapter 53: Atheling


    Atheling


    Middanhal


    Eventually, the news spread that the Adalthing would convene for an extraordinary session. For themon people on the street, life continued as usual, and for the most part, they considered the war to be at an end. As for the armies gathered in the capital, the soldiers considered this a pleasant turn of events; until the Adalthing had met and its affairs were resolved, none of them would be marching against Isarn. Thus, rather than be stuck digging trenches and building palisades for a siege camp, they were allowed to remain in the city and spend their silver on the various delights offered. Those primarily affected were the nobility of Adalrik; suddenly, a flurry of activitymenced as they had less than a week to aplish their manoeuvres before the gathering.


    Valerian arrived the day before the meeting, apanied only by his thanes. He cast a dismayed look at his ruined house and rode to the Citadel to meet with his brother. His father-inw, Alexander of the House of Jaunis, was being kept in the Hall of the Honoured Dead next to thedy Richilde and her little son; the jarl Ingmond was only dying until the Adalthing had met before he would bring his family home to Inghold for burial.


    One thing concerning this session had captivated the minds of all, however, regardless of standing. Thest Adalthing had elected a lord protector because the current heir was not of age to assume the throne. Since then that heir had died; what if no lord protector was to be chosen, but instead they might elect an heir to the realms? Someone who could immediately assume the responsibilities of rule and would render the need for a lord protector superfluous.


    In every tavern were spoken the names of the dragonborn, House Arnling and House Hardling. Some looked south towards where the king of Korndale sat, wondering if he knew of this assembly and whether he might wish to make his im known. Others whispered of illegitimate heirs and sonsing forward to be pretenders as well. Lastly, a few considered the possibility that the age of the dragonborn had ended, and another line would rise to sit upon the Dragon Throne; that maybe the line of Sigvard had truly died with Prince Sigmund, and none of the cadet branches had the strength to assume the name of Adal as their own. All of this was mere guesswork, however; none could know until the Adalthing met.


    ~~~~


    Atst, the day came for the Adalthing to convene. In the hall reserved for this event, the noblemen of Adalrik arrived one by one or in small groups shortly after dawn. The balconies overlooking the hall held numerous spectators; all those that the guards would allow entry. Arndis and Theodwyn were among them, and soon Quill came walking up the spiralling stairs, followed by his apprentice, who nced curiously in every direction. Several representatives of the guilds were there, including the alderman himself. There was also another, elderly man, dressed in in robes; Egils mouth hung open as he spotted the grey-d man.


    Brother Septimus, Quill greeted the high priest while bowing his head.


    Master Quill, Septimus replied with a nod. And this would be?


    My apprentice, Egil, Quill introduced. I thought it was time he was introduced to his future duties. One day, he will preside over the Adalthing, and this particr session promises to be worthy of remembrance.


    Indeed, Septimus spoke with his aged voice. It even managed to lure me from the Temple. There have been many spections whether the Thing will choose an heir today.


    It must, Quill informed him. On this, thew is clear. If there is no king and the realms are without even an heir presumptive, the foremost duty of the Adalthing is to choose one at the first opportunity. The session must never be in doubt.


    They knew it well when they wrote suchws. The priest gave a frail smile. Yet even such foresight could not prevent the war we have found ourselves embroiled in. A war over the very same matter of crowns and thrones.


    Let us hope it will prevent future wars, at least, Quill said. I must take my leave and make ready. Egil, watch everything.


    Yes, master, Egil promised.


    He can stay by my side, Septimus suggested. My ears and eyes are old. I could use someone young to tell me what I might not hear or see.


    It would be his honour, Brother Septimus, Quill assured the Highfather while Egil nodded vigorously.


    Below in the hall, the ritual of sanctification had begun. The priestess of Disfara smeared the statue of the goddess with blood; one by one, the noblemen stepped forward and swore to uphold thews of the realm and the decisions of the Adalthing. The priestess marked each of their foreheads with blood as they finished their oath, and at length the ritual was at an end. It had in fact gone much faster than usual; instead of the full assembly of sixty-nine nobles, only fifty were present. The South was represented by both jarls and their margraves as well as nine of thendgraves; the tenth, Elis, was still in the dungeons until his fate could be decided. From the North, only Theodoric and his margraves hade as well as twondgraves.


    It was enough, however. The Adalthing needed a gathering of thirty-five at least to be able to speak with one voice; since fifty exceeded that, all decisions made by the Thing were binding. Quill announced this along with which decision had to be made first.


    Thew leaves no room for doubt, Quill spoke with a loud voice. With no king and no heir, the foremost duty of the Adalthing is to choose one. Typically, the custom is that the king will present his choice of heir, and the Adalthing may ept or reject this. Given the circumstances, Quill spoke, clearing his throat, that is not possible. Instead, we shall follow the old rules of the northern tribes for choosing a leader in war, he dered, which caused some whispers and murmurs. It was a custom so ancient few in the hall even knew it existed. The Kings Quill was the authority onw and tradition, however, and none disputed his decision.


    By this rule, every man with a voice in the Adalthing may dere their support to whomever they choose. All that matters is that one man must have thirty-five voices behind him to be elected, Quill exined. Lord Raymond, Quill spoke, raising his voice, to whom do you lend your voice?


    I lend it to Lord Hardmar of House Hardling, the jarl of Ingmond spoke before he turned to send a malicious nce towards Brand. Thetter ignored the stare sent his way.


    Does any of the margraves in the province of Ingmond lend their voice differently? Quill asked. There was silence; none did so. Lord Valerian, to whom do you lend your voice?


    To Lord Hardmar of House Hardling, Valerian spoke.


    What name did he say? Septimus asked up on the balcony while Quill continued to enquire if the margraves of Vale spoke otherwise. The aged priest was leaning over the railing precariously, straining his ears to no avail.


    Lord Hardmar, Egil spoke softly by his side.


    Then it is all but decided, Septimus mumbled. Twenty-nine voices in his favour. The jarl Theodstan alone or the southernndgraves collectively may make it a majority.


    In the hall, Quill had moved on to the third and remaining jarl. Lord Theodoric, to whom do you lend your voice?


    Theodoric took a step forward. His eyes turned around the hall from the other jarls to Hardmar and Brand. Finally he spoke. I lend my voice to Lord Hardmar of House Hardling.


    Agitation rippled through the assembly. It was decided. What? a voice barked from the back of the gathered noblemen.


    Order, please, Quill called out. Does any margrave of Theodstan speak otherwise?


    I do! Richard roared as he stepped forward and into the middle of the hall. He was also the source of the outburst a moment ago. By Hel and all her curse, I speak otherwise! What cowardice is this? Are you spineless children all?


    Lord Alwood, Quill tried to speak in a calming voice to little effect.


    In this room stands one man who made this possible, Richard yelled, shaking his finger at Brand. If not for this braved, you would all be cowering at Isarns feet. Or worse, your heads would adorn a pretty spike, he spat, ring at Valerian and Konstans. How dare you! How dare you disrespect all we achieved, Richard growled. In impossible circumstances, we won this war, and it was his doing! As he shouted thest sentence, he once again pointed at Brand.


    Lord Alwood, you may have a chance to speak your mind after the counting, should it not reach a conclusion, Quill attempted to argue.


    I am not a fool! Richard eximed. I can count as well as any man here. It has been decided, there will be no chance to speak. You, a bunch of womenfolk disguised like men, have given the realms to a boy, he uttered with contempt.


    While your defence of yourrade is admirable, Konstans spoke with a silken voice, it seems misguided. The Order was under yourmand, Sir Richard. Do not reduce your own involvement in bringing this war to a swift conclusion.


    As Konstans spoke, Richard red at him. You were there, Lord Konstans. You know as well as I that the victor of this war is named Adalbrand.


    I think you give too much credit to a squire, Konstans said with a chuckle. While nobody denies that the Order and all its men, knights, squires, soldiers, are invaluable to the safety of the realm, it does not bear upon our decision today. The banners upon the field at the battle of Cudrican were the banners of House Hardling. It is only sensible that the Adalthing rewards the kingship to the man who brought us the soldiers necessary for victory, the nobleman argued.


    Richard narrowed his eyes and gazed at Konstans with malice. What a snake you are, the knight growled. There was silence after this insult was uttered; finally, Richard turned and left the hall at a furious pace. It took a little while for Quill topose himself and revive from his stupor; finally, he continued with the counting of voices, though it was only a formality.


    Soon after to apuse, Hardmar stepped forward with a great smile and knelt by the statue of Disfara that stood in the centre of the hall. Quill approached him and ced a hand on his shoulder.


    Lord Hardmar of House Hardling, I confirm that the Adalthing has spoken with one voice and dered you heir to the realms. In seven days time, go to the Temple, Quill instructed him. There, before the altar of the Alfather, you shall kneel and receive the blessing of Sigvard. May you rule with the justice and wisdom that he did. For when the timees, you shall be crowned upon the steps of the Temple in sight of the entire realm, Quill continued, almost chanting, that all may see and know you are the Dragon of Adalrik. When you rise, you rise as High King of Adalmearc, and never again shall you kneel before any man.


    Hardmar bowed his head in eptance of these words; he rose and turned towards the assembled noblemen, receiving their praise and admiration.


    ~~~~


    The Adalthing continued for a while longer; since Hardmar was not of age, he would have to wait until he turned twenty-one to be crowned. In the meantime, a lord protector would be chosen to rule the realm. There was little surprise when Valerian was chosen; with Isenhart and most of the North absent, there was nobody to challenge the jarl of Vale. As his dragonlord, he named his brother, Konstans. Some remarked on how the jarl of Isarn had started a war to make himself king, and the only result had been that his rival now ruled the realm, at least for the next four years until Hardmar would be crowned king. Others held their tongue and simply apuded.


    Brand left the hall as soon as the mantle of lord protector had been given to Valerian. Walking through the corridors, he passed many servants, busy tending to their duties; seeing his clenched jaw, all of them stayed out of his path. At length, he reached the deste throne room. Brand entered from one of the smaller doors to the side, but he walked down to the main entrance and then approached the throne from that angle as it was intended. The hall itself was huge, thergest in the Citadel. Pirs rose taller than trees, making those entering feel diminutive. At the far end stood the seat of power, the Dragon Throne, raised upon many steps so that one would have to look up to gaze at the king.


    The throne was empty, of course, and had been for months. It was an artistic marvel, crafted by the greatest artisans of its age many centuries ago. Not as old as the Dragon Crown, which was imed to have been worn by Sigvard himself. Like so much else, the throne had been crafted for Arn. His war to unite the realms had brought enormous wealth to Middanhal, and despite his many building projects there had been enough gold to make a throne worthy of a high king.


    It was, naturally, shaped in the likeness of a drake, making full use of this theme and giving the seat its popr name. The armrests were the powerful legs and ws of a golden dragon; behind the person seated, the wings of this creature spread upwards. Where the kings head would rest, the jaws of the beast opened to reveal its teeth. It appeared as if it would devour any who dared to sit upon the throne, a warning to any who would usurp the rightful seat of the king.


    Brand approached the throne until he could reach out his hand and touch the gold of the armrest. His finger traced each of the ws with a pensive look while his other hand yed with the woven leather string around his neck. Brands lips parted as if he desired to speak, to address the inanimate object in front of him, but whatever his thoughts, they were interrupted by a loud voice.


    Brand, Richard called out.


    How did you know I was here? the squire asked.


    Some servants saw you enter. I wanted to talk with you, the knight muttered.


    As always, I listen, Brand said with a vague smile.


    Richard cleared his throat. Egnils balls, what feckless worms they are! it burst from him. Every man in that hall, cowards and crows to thest. How dare they demean what you and I did? How can they not see you deserved this honour?


    It is not a question of justice, but of politics. Brand gave a slight shrug. By supporting Lord Hardmar, the jarl of Vale will now have several years as lord protector. It was a cunning move.


    But the rest of them, Richard argued. Gods, man, even Theodoric fell to heel. He above all should know your capabilities.


    Do not be harsh on him, Brand told the knight. It would have been decided this way regardless. In this manner, he at least showed himself a friend to our new masters.


    I would much rather show myself a friend to you, Richard said gruffly. You have deserved my respect.


    I thank you for it, Brand gave a smile, though I fear it may have made our new prince and the lord protector look at us both with ill-favoured eyes.


    I did not think of that, Richard muttered, sounding a little regretful after all.


    No matter, Brand shook his head. They would have done so regardless, I imagine. The only thought in my mind is that I should desire to take my vows as a knight. I have spoken with the Master of the Citadel, and I may proceed holding my vigil this very night.


    Of course, I congratte you, Richard eximed. It is well earned. Who shall apany you?


    Normally it should be Athelstan, but he is upied, Brand remarked with dry humour. I would be pleased if you would, Sir Richard.


    It would be my honour, Richard dered.


    Good, Brand smiled. Tonight at the eastern shrine. With that arranged, they parted.


    ~~~~


    Inside their quarters, the siblings of Theodstan reunited after the Adalthing. Theodoric poured himself a goblet of wine without dy while Theodwyn sat down. With his four-fingered hand, Theodoric grasped the cup tightly before he finally drank from it.


    That went as expected, Theodwyn finally spoke.


    No other way it could have gone, Theodoric said with a slightly unsteady voice. I practically handed it to Valerian and his brother on a tter when I convened the Thing.


    You never told me what Konstans offered if you would support them, his sister said questioningly.


    Theodoric gave a vague smile. I told him that I wish to be considered as the new jarl of Isarn once this war has been fought to its ultimate end.


    He agreed? Theodwyn asked with raised eyebrows.


    He promised to consider it, Theodoric said, his smile turning sardonic. Neither he nor Valerian will ever ept that in a hundred years, of course. Once Isenhart has been beheaded and the rest of his family driven into exile, a southerner will be given the jarldom and all its silver and iron mines, Theodoric reasoned. Someone loyal to the House of Vale that they might control the Adalthing in perpetuity. But if Konstans thinks that the lure of Isarn will keep me in line, I am free to act behind his back.


    What of young Adalbrand, Theodwyn remarked with an inquisitive nce at her brother. I thought you had ns for him as well.


    I do, Theodoric nodded. If nothing else, a militarymander of his capability is worth befriending. But he is also the greatest rival that our new prince has, and thus by extension, he is an enemy to Vale. It would not do to reveal towards Konstans that I seek to be on friendly terms with the atheling of House Arnling.


    What do you intend? Theodwyn asked.


    I have devised another way to gain what we want without arousing suspicion, the jarl contemted. Hopefully in a way that ensures Adalbrand is still essible should I ever have need of an undefeated captain, he spoke with a listless smile. Such are hard toe by, after all.


    ~~~~


    As night fell, Brand was in one of the small shrines consecrated to Rihimil in the Citadel. Outside, sitting on a chair, was Richard. The young squire on hisst night bearing that rank was kneeling before the altar. His eyes were fixed on the statue in front of him; endlessly, his lips whispered the Squires Pledge.


    When night falls, the squires vigil begins.


    When dawn rises, so does the Knight.


    In peace, a Knight is vignt.


    In war, a Knight is fearless.


    In life, a Knight is true.


    In death, a Knight is honoured.


    I will not rest while battle stirs.


    I will not flee where others fight.


    My Life and Word are not twain.


    My Death and Honour shall be one.


    When night falls, my vigil begins.


    When dawn rises, so do I.


    ~~~~


    As the night neared its end, dark circles surrounded Brands eyes. He blinked from time to time, but otherwise he did not waver. His voice was hoarse, and he spoke the pledge with slow, crisp sounds. Finally, something touched his cheek. It was sunlight; through the window to the east, it announced the end of his vigil. Smiling, Brand rose to his feet. He walked over and opened the door. Outside, Richard sat in his chair, sleeping with an open mouth. Brand cleared his throat, making the knight blink and awaken.


    This made Richard get up and walk over to the door. Adalbrand of House Arnling, born to Arngrim of that house, have you kept your vigil? Richard asked.


    I have, Brand spoke in a tired voice.


    Are you prepared to take the Knights Oath?


    I am, Brand nodded.


    Good, Richard grinned. Then his smile faltered. You deserve an de by the king himself, or at the very least the lord marshal his voice trailed off.


    No need for concern, Brand said dismissively. I would consider it an honour if you wouldy your de upon my shoulder, Sir Richard.


    Truly, it is me that you honour, Richard said, his voice a little thick. When do you wish it done?


    Now, without dy. While I am tired from kneeling all night, one more time will not hurt, Brand smiled.


    He walked back into the room and knelt by the shrine after giving Richard a pair of golden spurs whom thetter pocketed. One hand was ced upon the feet of the statue, and under Rihimils watchful and Richards sleepy eyes, Brand took his oath as a knight.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    I am sworn to valour.


    Valour I wield as my sword.


    This is my vow.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    I am sworn to justice.


    Justice I raise as my shield.


    This is my vow.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    I am sworn to truth.


    Truth I wear as my armour.


    This is my vow.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    I am sworn to fealty.


    Fealty I honour above all.


    This is my vow.


    My sword fears not death.


    My shield defends the weak.


    My armour protects the realm.


    My oath is my honour.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    With his vows spoken and oath taken, Brand looked up. Richard drew his sword and touched the squires left shoulder, his right, and finally his left again. For each touch, the knight spoke the ritual words.


    In the name of the King, whosemand we follow


    In the name of the Order, whose codex we follow


    In the name of Rihimil, whose example we follow


    I name you a knight.


    Richard sheathed his sword. Arise, Sir Adalbrand, hemanded. Brand, squire no longer, did so. Digging out the spurs, the old knight gave them to his new peer, one by one. Now, let us get something to drink, Richard eximed. I grow thirsty just by listening to your hoarse voice.


    Very well, Brandughed a little. Butter today we must celebrate with my sister, I promised her so.


    There shall be celebration enough for all, Richard grinned as he led the way out of the shrine.


    ~~~~


    Later that day, the court was assembled in the throne room. The hall that had been quiet for months was once again filled to the brim with people. All the nobility of Adalrik, including beorns and courtiers, were present to watch the lords of the realm swear fealty to their new prince. Usually, this was a custom only done after a king had been crowned, but the new dragonlord had made the Adalthing agree to perform this on the following day. Thus, every lord with anded title in the realm was standing in the centre of the hall, which meant jarls,ndgraves, and margraves. The rest of the court stood to the side, watching as one by one, the noblemen stepped forward towards the throne. Upon it sat Prince Hardmar, nked by the brothers of Vale.


    Among the spectators were Quill and Septimus. They stood in the back where there were few to disturb them or wonder at seeing the two of them together. Septimus stretched his neck a little to watch the jarl of Ingmond approach the throne, soon after followed by his margraves. I have not seen this tradition enacted before, the priest spoke, rubbing his neck.


    Nor me, Quill admitted. I was still apprentice to my old masterst this took ce, attending to my duties.


    And I a humble priest at the Temple, Septimus smiled.


    It is a breach of custom, though, the scribe said. It is highly irregr for the lords to swear loyalty before the king has been crowned. It does not hold to the word of thew that a prince should demand such.


    I imagine given the current circumstances, our new rulers are concerned that there may be more like Jarl Isarn among the noblemen, Septimus spoke with a sly smile. Better to bind them with an oath now when their loyalty is most in question.


    I suppose, Quill frowned. I simply dislike the departure from tradition.


    Septimus nodded absentmindedly before he lowered his voice. Have you heard from our mutual friend? he spoke quietly while ncing around.


    Quill shook his head. Rumours have reached me, however, now that the way through Ingmond is open again. They say that the war goes ill in Hthiod. I do not expect any of my messages might reach him in that war-torn realm.


    I suppose he will turn up at his own pace, Septimus said calmly. I am more troubled by the thought of the ounders holding Hthiod while the noblemen of Adalrik fight each other.


    I can only agree, Quill muttered, but what can we do to make them see the greater threat?


    That is the question which keeps me awake at night, Septimus confessed. Not until the ounders are at the gates of Middanhal will these drakonians see reason, and by then I fear it will be toote. He narrowed his eyes a little, straining them. Do I see your friend, Master Quill? Did you not speak of him to me once, the priest pondered, gesturing towards where Brand stood in the crowd with his sister and sergeant aspany.


    That is he, Quill nodded.


    You did not tell me how that friendship came to be, Septimus enquired.


    He often helped me during his time as a page, the scribe exined. That was before I had an apprentice. I had the impression he preferred thepany of books over that of his peers.


    He might have good cause for that, the high priest contemted. If I understand right, he has defeated one jarl on the battlefield. Two others have lost family members and me him. Lastly, to our new prince, he is a rival. His very name deres it. I wonder what thoughts ran through his fathers mind to name his son Adalbrand and thus invoke the House of Adal, Septimus considered, his gaze turning towards Berimund. Did you hear about the captain of the kingthanes and the jester?


    I did, Quill shuddered. To think such a small person could possess such great malice.


    Have you heard more than that? After all, he cannot have acted alone, the priest argued.


    The scribe shook his head. He leapt to his death and took his secrets with him. I know the kingthanes have looked into the records from the solstice games, but it seems pointless. If anybody else were involved, surely they have fled many miles from here.


    Another mystery unsolved, which promises to return to haunt us. With a contemtive expression, Septimus and Quill watched the jarl of Theodstan step towards the throne.


    Kneeling, Theodoric spoke loudly that all might hear. I swear fealty to you, my prince, and Theodstan bows before you.


    Your fealty is epted, Hardmar spoke with a smile. He was wearing the colour of his house mingled with the blue colour of his ancestry; on his head, he wore a golden circletid with sapphires, which was custom for the prince of Adalrik to be adorned with. By his sides, Valerian and Konstans gave curt nods. I am aware that Theodstan is a friend to the Crown.


    Might I ask permission to approach, my prince? Theodoric asked in a lower voice. As a friend to the Crown, I wish to share a concern.


    Of course, Hardmar said, frowning.


    Theodoric walked forward until his words would only be heard by the youth sitting on the throne and the two noblemen standing next to it. As my prince hopefully knows, I have fought long and hard to protect the realm against traitors and rebels. With most of the House of Isarn imprisoned in your dungeons, it seems hopeful that our civil war is soon at an end. Yet a threat remains, the jarl warned.


    What might that be? Konstans enquired.


    A youngmander who has usurped the affections of the soldiers and the people, Theodoric said in a quiet tone.


    I know of whom you speak, Hardmar replied, ncing towards Brand in the crowd.


    Certainly his abilities have served the realm well, Theodoric admitted. But the war in Adalrik is all but won. There seems to be no further need for him here.


    What do you suggest? Hardmar asked with narrowed eyes. Should he join the others in chains?


    That might be drastic, my prince, Theodoric hastened to say, raising his hands.


    You have something in mind, Konstans dered, so speak.


    There is still war in Hthiod. A troublesome one, ording totest tidings. Why not let what remains of the Order army carry out their initial orders? Theodoric suggested. A small army, not enough to win a war, but enough to quiet those who would protest if nothing was done. Let the young Adalbrand lead them into other realms, and let him be forgotten here. Once he no longer drapes himself in victories, people will not remember his name, the jarl imed.


    The idea might have merit, Valerian contemted, sounding uncertain.


    What of Alwood? Hardmar sneered. He has shown himself to be quite the malcontent.


    Let him be sent against Isarn to sharemand with another, Konstans decided. Best to keep those two separate.


    I leave the details in your capable hands, Theodoric dered.


    You have done well, Hardmar stated, to which Theodoric bowed his head. You have my gratitude.


    The jarl of Theodstan moved on, allowing his margraves to take his ce. Turning his eyes into the crowd, Theodoric gave an almost imperceptible nod at Brand, who nced back but made no gesture of his own.


    Do you think it worked? Arndis asked of Brand as she turned to look elsewhere.


    I think so, Brand said quietly. The jarl can be persuasive when he wishes to be. Not with me, but then again, few are as stubborn as I, the newly minted knight jested. One thing I do regret. If our nse to fruition, I shall once again leave you alone among the wolves.


    It was my idea, Arndis replied. We each have our battlefields, each our weapons to wield. I will do my part here, you may do yours in Hthiod. That is our duty to our name and lineage.


    My sister, Brand smiled. You have more courage than most men in armour I have met.


    Question is, Arndis said, changing the subject, what shall we do today?


    We shall have entertainment and amusement, Brand dered. As soon as Sir Richard joins us.


    As if summoned, the margrave appeared momentster, sticking out his tongue as if he had tasted something unpleasant. It will require ale stronger than bulls brew to wash the words from my mouth, Richard imed, scraping his tongue against his teeth.


    Sir Richard knows of a tavern nearby, Brand told his sister as they began to walk out of the hall. Come along, Matthew, he called to his young sergeant, who woke from his daydreaming and hurried after them.


    A most reputable ce, fear not, mydy, Richard growled. A yhouse, in fact, and a troupe from Fontaine is performing this afternoon. A y which I know your brother is partial towards.


    Is that so? Arndis eximed. Which one?


    The one called The Brothers Swordsmen, Brand told the others. I saw it more than once as a page. I was indeed quite captivated by it.


    Truly? How can that be? his sister asked.


    To be honest, by mistake, Brand said in a light-hearted voice. I misheard one of the names, you see. I thought he was called Adalbrand like me, and my imagination was lit on fire to think that the greatest swordsman under the sun bore the same name as me. Imagine the tragedy, he continued with mock hurt in his voice, when I realised he was in fact called Alfbrand. The othersughed as they crossed into the courtyard, and Brand continued to speak, reciting lines from the y and entertaining hispanions.


    ~~~~


    Returning from the throne room, Quill ascended the stairs to his library and entered. Inside, he found Egil and Kate, who had either snuck away from her duties or been given leave. They both raised their heads towards the door as it entered, but when they saw it was Quill, they returned to their discussion.


    No, he was really nice, kind, Egil insisted, nodding his head. Like you imagine a grandfather to be from the stories, he exined.


    Kate sat with her lips pressed together in a sceptical expression. You sure it was the Highfather? she questioned. Couldnt it have been another priest?


    Theres only one wearing a grey robe. I was in the Temple, I know these things, Egil imed. Besides, Master Quill called him Septimus.


    Maybe there are lots of priests named Septimus, Kate suggested with a shrug.


    Master Quill knows, Egil dered. Master? he said louder to attract the attention of the red-robed man.


    Quill meanwhile had walked over to stand by the window, staring absentmindedly out of it. Out in the courtyard, he saw Brand, Arndis, Richard, and Matthew cross the yard towards the gate, talking merrily with each other. Adal, the scribe muttered.


    Master Quill? Kate asked, but Quill did not seem to hear. He left the library hall to enter the scriptorium, walking over to the Arnling Tome of Names. Opening it near the middle, he found thetest pages where anything had been written. His eyes nced over the letters until he found the words he sought.


    <em>Adalbrand, born to Arngrim of House Arnling and Deirdre of n Ln,</em> the scribe mumbled as he read. <em>Hair dark and eyes blue.</em><em>First child born to his father, heir to the house and atheling of Sigvard.</em> Finally, he reached the birth words as spoken by the norn upon Brands birth. <em>Dragon born of eagle wing, the noble de revealed, and the ward of victory renewed.</em> Looking briefly at the first phrase, Dragon born of eagle wing, Quills countenance became wrinkled in thought. His sight came to rest at the words noble de again, his brow furrowed in contemtion. Adalbrand, Quill spoke quietly, and the light of realisation slowly became ignited in his eyes. Sigvard, he finally spoke as his eyes found thest phrase of Brands birth words. He grabbed the end of the great book, and with some effort, he mmed it shut.


    The Sorrow of Glen Hollow


    The dragonborn of great renown


    Upon his head, he wore a crown


    A sword of steel, his armour gold


    The Dragonheart, who was of old.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow.


    The king had just this only son


    And all who saw they said as one


    That never lived a prince so bold


    The Dragonheart, who was of old.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow.


    Now some may ask, how was he lost


    A prince whose might that none had crossed


    Well you shall hear his story told


    The Dragonheart, who was of old.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow.


    The years had seen the reign of peace


    But evil men sought this to cease


    Fell ns were made that him would hold


    The Dragonheart, who was of old.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow.


    His death they sought, their minds were such


    Their hearts all ck with treasons touch


    And to his foes, they had him sold


    The Dragonheart, who was of old.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow.


    With mercy none, they him beset


    He was by swords and arrows met


    From every turn they would enfold


    The Dragonheart, who was of old.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow.


    His men were in, and it is said


    That as thest, his blood was shed


    The earth him now forever hold


    The Dragonheart, who was of old.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow.


    Away he rode, with all his men


    And never to return again


    His eyes are closed, his body cold


    The Dragonheart, who was of old.


    The heart, the heart of Adalrik


    So young and bold, so strong and quick


    But he will never see the morrow


    For thats the sorrow of Glen Hollow.

 Chapter 54: Dreams

    Chapter 54: Dreams


    <em>Let all who read these words know that this tome was written at themand of King Sigvard in the fourth year of his blessed reign. He that is High King of all the realms of Adalmearc, Dragon of Adalrik, Drake in the North, Drakon in the South, Ormkongungr in the West, dragonborn ruler, and rightful atheling of Sigvard Drakevin.</em>


    <em>Long may he reign.</em>


    <em>In the year one thousand and ny-seven, the Realms were struck by several disasters. Following the death of High King Sighelm, the Adalthing convened to elect Sir Reynold, lord marshal of the Order, to be lord protector of Adalrik until the crown prince Sigmund woulde of age. Soon after, the savage ounders of the Reach invaded Hthiod. In response, Sir Reynold marched all avable Order forces in the hearnds to Hthiod.</em>


    <em>Tragedy urred as Prince Sigmund was in in a most foul manner on the Kingsroad by brigands. Disying the utmostck of honour, Jarl Isenhart of Isarn seized Middanhal in a bid to usurp the throne, but failed to capture Jarl Valerian of Vale, who escaped and raised his armies to fight Jarl Isenhart. Led by his brother Sir Athelstan, the Isarn forces cowardly ambushed the remaining Order army at Lake Myr. Under courageous leadership by Sir Richard of Alwood, the Order troops crossed the Weolcan Mountains and joined forces with those of Jarl Theodoric of Theodstan. After several battles, and assisted by his lieutenant Lord Adalbrand of House Arnling, Sir Richard liberated Middanhal and defeated Jarl Isenharts armies in several battles. The jarl was forced to retreat to Isarn, and his brother and two sons, Lord Isenwald and Sir Eumund, were both taken captive.</em>


    <em>In Hthiod, the ounders defeated the Order army in the field, killing Sir Reynold. After a vicious siege, Tothmor fell to the heathens. Fortunately, Queen Theodora escaped with a few other members of court, notably her husband, King Leander, her mother, Lady Beatrice, and her aunt, Lady Irene. They were found by Sir William, leader of the remaining Order forces in Hthiod, who escorted them to safety across the border. The Hthians eventually reached sanctuary in Korndale, seeking the protection of the queens rtive, King Adrd.</em>


    <em>In Adalrik, the Adalthing assembled again to choose Lord Hardmar of House Hardling as heir to the realms. Due to the princes young age, Jarl Valerian was chosen as lord protector. He sent his own forces north under leadership of Sir Richard to besiege the rebellious lords in league with Jarl Isenhart, seeking to bring an end to the civil war. In response to the ounder upation of Hthiod, Sir William and his new lieutenant Lord Adalbrand returned with a contingent of knights and infantry to liberate the realm. As the winter of this year gripped thend, the Order prepared its campaign while encamped on the border to Hthiod, hoping to be reinforced by armies from neighbouring Korndale.</em>


    Dreams


    Plenmont


    The great hall of the pce in Plenmont was bustling with activity. It was only a few days before winter solstice, and servants were flitting everywhere, busy with preparations. Twigs and branches from pine trees with their green needles were being hung everywhere; a reminder that spring would return with its blossoms once the dark winter was over. Furthermore, the tables by which the court dined were being rearranged. This allowed for arge, open space in the centre of the hall. By the walls hung already banners with the royal emblem of Korndale upon them, but new banners in blue and silver were being raised as well, adding a pale dragon next to the ck bull.


    Standing in the now open centre was the man directing the movements of the servants, like amander ordering his troops about. He was not d in armour, nor the modest garb one might expect of a steward or other such overseer; instead he wore a silken robe of deep yellow with many other colours in the rest of his garments, and upon his head rested a golden circlet with heavy stones of great value. He was about thirty years of age, perhaps a little older, with a neat, thin beard. A little higher, he demanded of the servants bncing precariously ondders while draping the new banners on the walls.


    Your Majesty, a voice spoke softly nearby. It belonged to a man dressed in more humble clothingpared to the king, though still of finer cut and fabric than what themon servants wore.


    King Adrd turned towards the speaker. Aurelius, the monarch frowned, what do you think? High enough?


    Perfect, Your Majesty, Aurelius replied with a half nce. I was just speaking with your cousin, the queen Theodora, he began to exin.


    Anything the matter? Her amodations not to her liking? Such is for you to handle, Adrd said dismissively, waving his hand while keeping his gaze on the preparations happening around him.


    One of the servants almost lost his bnce on adder and had to grab hold of a pine branch tied to a shield hanging on the wall. The result was that while the servant regained his bnce, the shield and branch both fell to the floor with a loud ng. Good grief, Adrd eximed frustrated, must I start executing people before you realise the severity of the situation? Solstice is but a few days away. Some faint, nervousughing could be heard. Oh heavens, it was a jest, the king continued. There will be no executions this close to a feast. Honestly, you people have no sense of merriment.


    Your Majesty, Aurelius interjected, Queen Theodora wished to press you for an answer concerning her request that you aid Hthiod.


    Did I not tell vius not give her an answer already? Adrd frowned before his attention turned towards the servants attempting to return the fallen shield to its position.


    Prince Aqu did, Your Majesty. Aurelius nodded a little. A dying answer. He said that there was little point in making ns while wintersted and even the Order camp was in winter quarters.


    So what does she want now, the king spoke with an impatient voice.


    The queen desires to have your guarantee that once winter ends, you willunch a campaign to liberate Hthiod, Aurelius exined.


    Ask vius and give his answer to Theodora, Adrd replied absentmindedly.


    Your Majesty, maybe this is not a matter that should be left to the prince, the kings servant said pointedly. Given the consequences should Korndale be involved in the war in Hthiod, Prince Aqus decision may be influenced by other concerns than what is best for the realm. Seeing no light of understanding in his masters eyes, Aurelius continued. Many of your levy forces would be drawn from the principality of Aqu, Your Majesty. The prince is unhappy with the thought of departing Tricaster with his army. Adrd continued to stare with a frown, and Aurelius spoke again. If Your Majestys armies marched into Hthiod, Tricaster would be vulnerable to an assault from Ealond.


    Ealond, Adrd snorted. They have not been that bold in centuries. Why does that old beak worry about the rivermen?


    The duke of Belvoir is an ambitious man, Aurelius admitted, but that should not rule Your Majestys decision concerning the war in Hthiod. Or what else is taking ce in the realms, he finished, emphasising hisst words.


    Aurelius, Adrd said a little weary, just tell me what you want.


    It is Your Majesty who informs me on what is to be done, Aurelius said subserviently, not reverse. However, might I suggest you call a council of your advisors soon? That should allow Your Majesty to reach a decision.


    Fine, Adrd agreed, his mind elsewhere. No, no, we need the woodwork over here, he eximed, yelling at servants that were luggingrge, wooden frames into the hall.


    ~~~~


    After he left the king, Aurelius walked through the pce until he reach the area easily recognisable as the royal quarters. He knocked on the door to one of the chambers.


    It is the seneschal, mdy, said the maiden opening the door.


    Let him pass, came a voice possessing a certain age.


    As Aurelius entered, he found a scene of several women inside. They were all in their forties or fifties, d in rich garments and with jewellery. Some of them had been sewing, while one had been reading aloud from a book. She stopped as Aurelius came into view. There was a fourth woman seated on the couches, neither sewing nor reading, for whose pleasure the handmaiden had been upied with the book. Thisdy had the attention of all the other women, and she dismissed them with a simple gesture; they in turn seemed used to it, quickly gathering their things to leave the room.


    Lady Sigrid, Aurelius greeted her.


    Sit, she bade him, beckoning to the now ample amount of empty seats surrounding her. Speak.


    I convinced the king to hold council to settle the matter of intervention in Hthiod, Aurelius exined. So far, I have used Prince Aqu as an excuse to keep the Hthian queen without answer, but she is persistent. Once she realises our armies will not intervene in Hthiod, she will cause a stir.


    Let her, Sigrid said disdainfully. All she can do isin to the marshal, and the Order forces are not going anywhere.


    Even so, Aurelius spoke cautiously, she might cause problems for us if the princes or the guilds are on her side.


    Unlikely. I wish this matter resolved soon regardless of this crowned child.


    Very well, mydy, the seneschal acquiesced. I fear that until the solstice feast is over, however, his majesty is too  preupied to handle affairs of the state.


    Delicately put, Sigrid remarked, pursing her lips. Have it held the day after solstice. I will use the time until then to nt the seed into my sons mind.


    As you wish, mydy. Aurelius hesitated briefly. There is another matter I should inform you of, should you not already have heard.


    Speak.


    Lady Isabel of Hthiod arrived some hours ago, shortly after noon.


    Has she stated the reason for her unannounced appearance? Sigrid asked sharply.


    Officially, to visit her distant cousin, King Adrd, Aurelius exined.


    Unofficially?


    She has mentioned nothing, but she enquired as to when she might meet the king.


    Ensure she is given a chamber maiden with an attentive ear, Sigridmanded.


    Very well, mydy, Aurelius said subserviently.


    You may leave, Sigrid told the seneschal without looking at him, her gaze growing distant with thoughts. Silently, Aurelius left her alone.


    ~~~~


    Elsewhere in the pce, Theodora entered a room guarded by two Queens des; another pair had been following her, but stayed outside. Inside, she found Leander lying on the bed, which caused her to stand still.


    You need not be quiet, Leander spoke with eyes closed. I am awake.


    I can leave, Theodora offered. Let you rest.


    No point, Leander imed, sitting up and nting his feet on the ground.


    Does the sleeping draught not help?


    Only for a brief while. Besides, I emptied itst night.


    You should seek out the physician, Theodora suggested. Perhaps he has something stronger.


    I suppose, Leander replied with little enthusiasm.


    I spoke with the seneschal, Theodora ventured to say. He only said as before that I should speak with the prince of Aqu.


    Why is that? Leander frowned. Why should you speak with him in the first ce?


    The king relies on him as his counsellor in military matters, apparently, Theodora exined. But since Aqu lies in the west of Korndale, Prince vius does not seem to consider the ounders much of a threat.


    What about the marshal? Leander suggested. He is the one who should havee to our aid during the siege. A touch of bitterness found its way into his voice.


    He ims he does not have the authority to decide, Theodora said frustrated. I sent Count Hubert to pester him, one way or the other, until he changes his tune.


    Leander snorted in briefughter as a response. The count will have the marshal marching to Hthiod while there is still frost in the air.


    Let us hope so, Theodora remarked. With enough reinforcements, I am certain Sir William can drive the ounders back to whatever Heldale theye from.


    I am not convinced there are enough soldiers in all of Korndale to ensure that, Leander muttered.


    Have courage, Theodora chided him. Did Troy not write that many of the ounders had retreated beyond the wall again? Victory is closer than we think.


    Retreated for how long? They may return any day, Leander retorted. Besides, I doubt Troy is a reliable source of military intelligence.


    Theodora was quiet for a moment. You miss him, I take it.


    There was no reason for him to travel to the encampment already, Leanderined.


    He is a bard, Theodoramented. He needs stories to sing about, and what better story than the liberation of our homnd?


    Its not even solstice yet, they will not be doing anything all winter but lie in camp, Leander eximed. I told that crowing moron as much, yet still he went.


    At least his letters bring us some news, Theodora argued. The fact that the full force of the ounders is no longer present will help convince these Dalemen to intervene.


    I suppose, Leander admitted grudgingly.


    You should try to rest, Theodora suggested. I will go see my mother. Leander gave a shrug but moved his legs back up on the bed.


    ~~~~


    At first evening bell, the court of Korndale moved towards the hall to take the meal, apanied by the Hthian exiles. Besides the queen, the king, and their staunch protector, Count Hubert, their number also counted Beatrice and Irene, the queens mother and stepmother, respectively. This state of affairs had caused some confusion among the Dalish courtiers, who as a response avoided familial terms. Leanders mother, Diane, was still disgraced and not invited to any table upied by the queen.


    The meal was already underway when another person of note arrived. It was a woman whose look could be pleasant or haughty ording to its owners whim. To arrive at the meal after the king was a breach of etiquette, albeit of a minor nature, and so this immediately attracted the attention of every person in the hall, nobleborn andmonborn alike. Thete arrival wore a blue dress with golden threads, which awoke further whispers; to the few with superior knowledge, it revealed her identity.


    Those with inferior knowledge on the heraldry of Adalrik were aided by the seneschal, who rose from his seat by the kings side. Your Majesty, may I present Lady Isabel of Hthiod, he announced.


    The king did not seem to mind the dramatic entrance. Be wee to our halls, he said cordially.


    I am grateful to His Majesty, Isabel replied, giving a slow bow before the king.


    Aurelius, let her have your seat, Adrdmanded.


    Yes, Your Majesty, the seneschal acquiesced, stepping away to let Isabel take his ce. Once she was seated, servants quickly brought her food and drink.


    Raising her cup, she nodded towards Adrd. To your health, Your Majesty. Graciously, the king returned her gesture.


    Further down the table, Theodora sent her mother a confused look. Did you know she wasing here?


    I had not the slightest idea, Beatrice professed. Nor can I guess her purpose, unless it is to reunite with us? We are her sole remaining family, after all.


    If so, she would have sent word in advance, Irene dered. Whatever reason Isabel has for being in Plenmont, I doubt she is concerned with us.


    I do not see how it matters, Leander muttered. It changes nothing for us.


    She is still my aunt, Theodora replied in a reproachful tone. It matters to my mother.


    Count Hubert, Leander said in a louder voice, I hear you have spoken with the marshal.


    I have, the count replied in his typical brusque manner. Both today and thest two days. He is a decent enough fellow, Sir Ferdinand, though a bitx in discipline.


    As always, you offer valuable contributions to the discussion at hand, Irene remarked with disdain.


    What is his attitude towards intervening in Hthiod? Leander asked with a hint of exasperation. Is he at all amenable towards it?


    Unlikely, Hubert replied, emptying his cup. He is sheep and shear with the prince of Aqu.


    He is what? Beatrice asked.


    He means they are closepatriots, Leander exined impatiently; his attention was on his cup that had already been filled several times.


    Is that problematic? I thought Prince vius was advising you, Beatrice spoke, looking at her daughter.


    Avoiding me, rather, Theodora corrected with a grim tone of voice. We cannot expect support from the prince.


    Aqu is too scared the rivermen might try something, Hubert dered before stuffing meat into his mouth. Rumour has it that across the border, the duke of Belvoir is gathering his forces.


    Like a crow hoping to pick through the corpses after a battle, Theodora remarked.


    Let us be practical, Irene interjected. Neither Prince vius nor Sir Ferdinand can be expected to be of service. The king himself understands less of warfare or politics than these actress harlots he adores.


    How dare you! Leander eximed violently, mming his fist onto the table and causing everyone nearby to stare at him. Oh, you meant the king of Korndale, he corrected himself. Carry on, he added mildly, returning to his cup.


    I believe the king can be swayed whichever way the wind blows, Irene continued after sending Leander an angry re. We need to find the right people to sway him, she finished, ncing towards the middle of the high table where Adrd sat between his mother and Isabel, enjoying lively conversation with thetter while the former watched with a tight-lipped expression.


    ~~~~


    Every court in Adalmearc had a physician appointed to it, trained by the norns at the great lorehouse of medicine in Fontaine; Korndale was no exception to this. Late in the evening, Leander stepped into the quarters that served as the physicians apothecary. Herbs were drying as they hang from the air, and numerous bottles filled with liquids and powders lined the shelfs.


    Brother Raul, Leander spoke, gaining the other mans attention. I need more, he grunted as he presented an empty sk to they brother. And I need it stronger.


    As you wish, Your Majesty, came the reply subserviently. Did it not have the supposed effect?


    It made me fall asleep well enough, Leander exined, but dreams woke me soon after. I need a draught of such strength, I will sleep dreamlessly through the night.


    Already the physician had begun collecting ingredients, searching them out amongst his stores. That may be more than I can deliver, Raul admitted, ceasing his efforts momentarily. I tend to mdies of the body, but as Your Majesty no doubt knows, dreams are of the spirit, either ones own or not.


    Are you saying you cannot help? Leander asked disgruntled.


    I will of course prepare a tincture for Your Majesty, Raul said quickly, resuming his activities. I merely advise that you seek counsel from someone as well-versed in what troubles the spirit as I am in what ails the body.


    Who would that be?


    In the past, when a patient of mine has been beset by ill dreams, I have advised them to seek out the priests of Egnil here in the city.


    Priests, Leander sneered. I would rather trust my wealth with thieves than my health with priests.


    Raul gave an uneasy smile. Nheless, dreams and spirits fall within their grasp of knowledge, not mine. If Your Majesty feels such difort as described, surely he should seek out any remedy avable.


    I came here for a remedy, Leander spoke displeased. I expect you to give me one, he dered and turned to leave.


    I shall have the strongest sleeping draught my art can create delivered as soon as it is possible, Brother Raul promised, watching the kings back as thetter left his apothecary.


    ~~~~


    The Order had its own keep in Plenmont. While the kings pce was exactly that, a pce built to please the eye, the Orders keep was built for war. Grey walls of stone, tall and difficult to scale, with heavy towers positioned everywhere from which the garrison kept watch. In the courtyard, scores of men could be seen training formations, learning to wield the heavy shields and spears of the Order infantry.


    Several men rode through the open gate, their passage unhindered due to the clear marks of nobility upon their leader. He did not wear armour for battle, only a leather tunic with a surcoat; upon it was the emblem of an eagle spreading its wings. The same coat of arms was worn by his men, who dismounted as their lord did and followed him closely with a protective stance. Sir Ferdinand, called out the newly arrived nobleman, gaining the attention of a knight, who was watching the soldiers.


    Prince Aqu, the knight responded with a nod. I was not expecting you.


    I thought we should talk, the prince replied, lowering his voice. I told the Hthian queen not to expect any intervention until winter ends, but I think she suspects we will never send troops to Hthiod.


    Those dreadful heathmen, Ferdinand spoke with a light shudder. One of them, a Count Hubert, has already been here twice. He keeps challenging every man he sees to a fight.


    It is the queen that concerns me, vius dered. Our king is a man often gripped by emotional states. If her constant tales of woe moves him, he might make promises to the detriment of the rest of us! Thest sentence was spoken with increasing noise.


    I agree, but what do you expect of me? I am not at court, the knight pointed out, you are.


    Only until the solstice celebrations are over. When I return home to Tricaster and make preparations against Belvoir, you will be the kings advisor in matters of war.


    If you need assurances that my advice will be in line with yours, you need not worry, Ferdinand imed. As marshal of Korndale, it is my foremost duty to keep it safe. The king knows to trust my counsel.


    Unfortunately, he also seems to trust his mothers counsel, the prince spoke darkly. That old spider is spinning her own webs.


    I am sure thedy Sigrid has the kings best interests at heart, the marshal said, looking a little ufortable.


    Maybe, but not the interests of the realm. In this case, the king is not Korndale. Keep recruiting more men and expanding the garrisons, vius told the knight. We are going to need them in every city of the dale. Nearby, the soldiers broke formation and dispersed, having finished the days training.

 Chapter 55: Flesh and Spirit

    Chapter 55: Flesh and Spirit


    Flesh and Spirit


    Plenmont


    At night, the pce in Plenmont was quiet; only the guards disturbed the silence, making their rounds. In the hour before dawn, the servants began to rise, preparing for the day. Hearths were lit where needed, so the chambers would not be cold when their masters and mistresses woke, which, depending on the person, could take ce at any time between dawn and noon.


    There was one exception to this. In the chambers he shared with his wife, Leander sat on the edge of their bed although sunrise was hours away. On the table by the bed stood the sleeping draught prepared by the physician; its contents were mostly gone. The queen stirred in her sleep, and Leander turned to look at her face, his own wearing an inscrutable expression. As she acted restless even while in the clutches of sleep, Leander moved out of her reach by standing up.


    He walked over to the window, gazing at the city outside. In the dark and despite being built on a t in, it looked much like Tothmor did. Rooftops, the streets weaving in between them, and the asional tower or tall building rising among them. In the distance, the keep with its seven-pointed star banners. The main difference was that people in Plenmont slept peacefully, whereas none could know how the citizens of Tothmor fared. Sinking to the floor and turning to sit with his back against the wall, Leander sat in silence through the remaining hours of the night.


    ~~~~


    The morning passed with little incident among the residents of the pce, and the servants spent it with idle talk of the new arrival from the north, thedy Isabel. The object of the conversation had remained in her chambers until the noon bell rang. When she finally stepped outside her door, Isabel was dressed with an elegance evoking envy, and the colours of her lips and cheeks indicated recent purchases from a sun peddler. Roots of certain lilies mixed with rose water made her skin pale as befitted a noblewoman, sheltered her whole life from the sun, while beeswax melted with oil and crushed berries gave her lips a red, glistening colour in contrast.


    She was headed towards the royal quarters, led by a servant. As the decorations on the walls increased in opulence, the servants breathing quickened, until he finally stopped in front of a specific chamber door. After knocking, he opened into the room for Isabel and stepped aside as she confidently strode past both servant and door. Her self-assured stride came to an abrupt halt as she found the chamber upied by Sigrid, the queens mother, and her various attendants.


    Lady Isabel, how good of you to join me, the elderly woman said with a smile that did not reach the eyes. Allow us some seclusion, she told her handmaidens, who dutifully left the room, fluttering past the immobile Isabel. Please, have a seat, Sigrid spoke, extending her hand in an inviting gesture to the chair opposite hers.


    Thank you, Isabel replied in a demure fashion, sitting down. On the table between them were tes with meats and greens as well as bread.


    When I heard you wanted to dine with my son, I profess that I thought it an excellent idea, Sigrid exined, and so I had the servants bring you to me. A bit of audacity on my part, but I hope you would not mind my jest. The old woman spoke in a pleasant tone, but her confident manner did not suggest that she felt she needed Isabels forgiveness for the duplicity.


    I do not mind in the slightest, Isabel told herpanion, finally rxing her features into a smile that mirrored Sigrids. Who could everin about having the pleasure of yourpany, especially when unexpected?


    Quite right, Sigrid agreed. The same may be said for you, as your presence here was also unexpected.


    There was nothing to tie me to Middanhal anymore, the Hthian princess exined. As my home is upied by rabble, I decided to waste no further time but immediately join my remaining rtives in Plenmont.


    Yes, your sister and niece have been here for quite some time now, Sigrid remarked in a neutral tone.


    Not only them, Isabel borated, regaining some of her confidence. After all, the kings grandmother was sister to my grandfather.


    My son has many blood ties, Sigrid retorted, stressing the familial term, though sadly none are left now in Middanhal after your departure. It is a pity what the savages did not only to my nephew, but also his son.


    If the mention of her dead son unsettled Isabel, the sun-peddled wares on her face concealed any such effect. A terrible truth indeed, which extends to you, mydy. The House of Adal is gone, which begs the question of who should sit on the Dragon Throne.


    Sigrid took a sip from a cup, ncing down. The Adalthing has elected an atheling of Sigvard, which surely you must also have heard. The question has been resolved.


    Has it? Isabel leaned forward. This atheling seems little more than a pawn in the hands of the true ruler of the realm, Jarl Vale. As King Sighelms sister, as someone born into the House of Adal yourself, that must concern you, surely.


    I am but an old woman, Sigrid deflected. Queen mother, but not queen. Such concerns are the privilege of the young and the powerful.


    A mothers concern for her son never grows old, Isabel countered, her voice quiet for the briefest of moments. Your son is a proven king and with the same blood as this Hardling boy.


    Descended through his mother, not his father, Sigrid pointed out.


    Blood is blood, Isabel argued. Though a woman, my niece is ruler of Hthiod.


    Thews may bend easier on the heath, Sigrid retorted, but not in thend of the dragon.


    You would concede that your son has no im upon the Dragon Throne, simply because he is descended from Sigvard through a woman and not a man?


    I will concede that those are thews of the Adalthing, Sigrid smiled coldly.


    There was a moment of silence. Thank you for the meal, Isabel spoke abruptly and rose from her seat. I feel the need to rest a while. Pardon me. Sigrid did not rise herself, but simply inclined her head. With a short bow, Isabel left. The tes of food remained on the table, untouched.


    ~~~~


    It was early in the afternoon when several canopied carts were pulled by old horses into one of the open squares that surrounded the pce. Not in front, but rather to the side where the servants had their goings. Despite the tattered state of the canopies of the carts, the neers provoked great excitement amongmonborn and nobleborn alike. Due to the inauspicious location of the arrival, none of the nobility would demean themselves to witness the spectacle in person, so they sent their personal attendants instead, whose numbers were added to those of the pce servants. Before long, a crowd was standing outside, ignoring the cold thiste in the month of the Moon.


    Although worn, the canopies were dyed in bright colours and patterns, and its contents were equally colourful, both people and cargo, though not all; some members of the caravan were d in ordinary, undyed clothes and quietly began to unload the carts. Most, however, wore garbs as vivid and eye-catching as those of the nobility or rich merchants. One of those d in this manner, upon seeing the throng of people, jumped to stand upon the drivers seat of the nearest cart.


    Good people of Plenmont! he called out with a flourish. Today, the Seven and Eighth smile upon your shining city. Prepare for tales that plunge into deepest tragedy and soar unto highestedy. Your magnanimous king sent out the call for artisans of the greatest craft to journey hither to his capital, and the call has been heard. Across mountains and valleys, through field and cities, travelling on Kingsroad or hidden paths in the deep forests, tread hitherto only by beasts of the wild, we havee.


    There was not a sound stirring among the scores of people listening rapt to the speaker, who continued, entuating his words with expressions and gestures of woe, wonder, and wit. Many a king or lord, queen ordy have showered us with praise. In Dvaros, after seeing The Dwarf and the Maiden, the chancellor wept from eyes that had not wept in a decade! In Hareik, upon our performance of The Brothers Swordsmen, the king offered us a bow of gold if we would stay in the city of the oak! In the yhouses of Fontaine, The Hat of Holgast moved the audience to such cries ofughter, it became known to cure the deepest states of mncholy that even the wisest ofy brothers could not heal!


    As the name of each y was mentioned, all eyes in the audience lightened up in anticipation. Yet for Plenmont, none of these will suffice. A new y of entirely new fashion must be performed, for nothing less will satisfy. Murmurs began to mingle with the excitement. Good folk of Plenmont, this winter solstice you shall have art as the realms have never seen before. That is my promise to you, for we are nomon troupe. We are the finest actors, the merriest band, the deepest souls, handsome as Rihimil, beauteous as Austre. He paused, taking a deep breath and exhaling. We are none other than that illustriouspany, known through all the Seven Realms as the Harps of Egnil!


    Wild cheers and loud apuse followed this announcement, although it was doubtful that any of the servants gathered had heard the name of the acting troupe before. With another flourishing bow, the speaker leapt down from the cart, allowing one of the workmen to drive it away; while the crowd had been introduced to thepany, the carts had meanwhile been emptied. With many more bows, smiles, and gestures, thest remaining actor made his way through the people and entered the pce. The servants stood aimless for a moment until it sank in that there was no further performance to be had, and they hurried back; some to their duties, others to their masters and mistresses to rte everything they had heard.


    ~~~~


    Not all the nobleborn of the pce had any interest in the arriving actors. Sigrid was once again entertaining a visitor alone in her chambers; it was Aurelius, the seneschal.


    I had to pressure and y coy a little, but she revealed her intentions, Sigrid stated.


    What are they, mydy?


    She wants my son to march north, into Adalrik. What she hopes to achieve specifically, I cannot be certain of. If she wants revenge or to be restored to power Sigrids face became wrinkled in thought.


    If thetter, her best path is through your son, Aurelius pointed out.


    Obviously, Sigrid said curtly. She will no doubt continue her attempts to ingratiate herself with him.


    I can deny her ess, of course, the seneschal imed. But is she necessarily our adversary? Her goal of Adalrik aligns with ours.


    The question is what the price will be. She will seek to control my son, pushing me out of the way. That is not eptable, Sigrid dered with a thin-lipped smile.


    I will keep her from gaining an audience for the time being, Aurelius promised.


    Let her be seated next to him at evening meals, Sigrid ordered. Their conversation will be within my reach. We might as well use her to our advantage, as long as I can control how much influence she gains.


    As youmand.


    ~~~~


    Apart from the royal pce, Plenmont had two other impressive buildings. One was the hall of the guilds and the other was the temple of Egnil, thergest in service to him in all the realms. While it was particrly bustling with activity on Nilday, there was generally muchmotion every day of the week. It was built in a style that differed it from many others as well. The outer limits of the temple grounds were marked by high columns, supporting engraved bs of marble that ran atop the entire square.


    The open square beyond the columns was empty apart from a limited number of vendors. Each of them sold something of religious importance and had special permission to sell their wares at this location. Some were smiths or craftsmen, selling idols and talismans for protection or health. One sold bulls to be given as sacrifice to the temple, though the cattle was not kept here; instead, the supplicant received a slip of parchment, gave it to a priest, and was taken to their ritual sacrifice. Barrels of beer brewed by the priests of Egnil themselves were also for sale, known to be of the highest quality. Naturally, countless yellow-robed priests could be seen crossing the square,ing and leaving in every direction.


    All manner of people mingled at the square of Egnils temple, bothmonborn and nobleborn, which meant that Leander and his three guards did not stand out. They might have if people knew he was not simply some lord but a king, but since most ordinary folk did not know the emblem of Hthiod, he was not recognised. Walking at a swift pace across the square, Leander moved towards the actual sanctum of the grounds.


    It did not have the splendour of light as the Basilica in Middanhal did, but was dark and too smallpared to the number of people inside. In the far end of the hall was a tall statue of a man with a bulls head, representing Egnil as the god of fertility. Right in front was a round and deep hole, almost like a well, though it was covered by a metal grid to prevent anyone from falling down. The walls were smeared with blood, which in a few ces had managed to reach high enough to stain the statue of the god. This was where bulls were sacrificed and their blood used to sanctify the worshippers.


    Leander looked around with an irritated nce, until he gave one of his Queens des a quickmand. The guard approached a geolrobe and made enquiries. Whether helpful of nature or intimidated, the priest offered to show the way and led the king andpanions out of the sanctum. Instead, he guided them to the buildings ced in the far end of the temple grounds.


    They passed by several temple guards wielding fearsome-looking ils, keeping watch by the entrance and at intervals inside. Although the visitors were armed, the guards did not view them with any suspicion, only bored disinterest. The geolrobe took Leander and his des through a few corridors before finally showing them through a door.


    The room inside was luxurious and reminiscent of the pce chambers, except it contained several idols and various trappings of the faith. It was upied by an elderly man, dressed in a yellow robe with the patterns of a high priest.


    The king of Hthiod, Reverend One, said the geolrobe who had been guiding the way. Leander nced around the room, his gaze avoiding the high priest whereas the guards took position behind him.


    Thank you, brother, the leader of the Order of the Bull spoke, dismissing his subordinate. I am Brother Benedict, he introduced himself to Leander, inclining his head. How may I serve?


    The king looked at his guards. Leave us. The des nced at the unarmed priest and did as ordered. I came at the suggestion of the pce physician, Leander ventured to say, still looking elsewhere than at the priest.


    I understand, Benedict nodded. You seek help.


    He told you? Leander eximed, jerking his head around to finally look at the priest.


    Not at all, Your Majesty, the priest responded, raising his hands in a disarming gesture. But Brother Raul has sent patients to us before, who could not be healed by his arts.


    I do not need help, Leander muttered. I am just here to make enquiries.


    Of course, Your Majesty, Benedict agreed in a calming voice. Will you not take a seat? I am an old man, he smiled, gesturing towards a chair. Once Leander sat down, he did as well. Tell me what you wish to enquire about.


    I have on asion heard that ill dreams are caused by spirits, Leander said in a mumbling tone, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall. Is there truth in this?


    Benedict nodded. Most assuredly, Your Majesty. Evil beings may choose to torment people in this way, though in my experience, it is most often the restless spirits of the dead.


    Why are they restless? Why would they haunt the living?


    Harder to say, Benedict admitted. Usually depends on the spirit and the manner of its death.


    I am having trouble sleeping, Leander confessed with a hesitant voice. The physician said it might be a mdy of the spirit. Either mine or someone elses.


    That is often the case. Some inner conflict troubles the soul, and the gods interfere with our rest to show displeasure. Or, the priest continued, for one reason or another, the conflict is with outer spirits guing us.


    I have done nothing wrong, Leander burst out. I have done my duty as king over and over!


    That leaves the second option, Benedict pointed out. What are these spirits that trouble you?


    When I dream, and sometimes even in my waking state, Leander spoke, his voice fumbling for words, I see the dead soldiers from Tothmor. Guards, soldiers of the Order, all of them. Sometimes even the scum ounders, he added with spite. Why are they haunting me? I fought on the walls every day, I bled beside them!


    The dead are not reasonable, Benedict exined calmly. They know only that they cannot find rest. They feel the cold of Hel pulling at them, and they are desperate to find peace. If any one of us were to die and not see the eagle that leads us to the Sapphire City, would we not react with simr despair?


    The exnation seemed to mollify Leander a bit, but only briefly. But why me? I am not even in Tothmor anymore. Why are they not tormenting the ounders, who did this to them?


    You are the king, Benedict retorted. The people look to you in life and in death. Justified or not, they seek you out that you might bring them peace.


    But what can I do? Leanderined. I am no sibyl or priest. I cannotmand the spirits to rest anymore than I can turn day to night.


    Whatever reason there may be for the disquiet of these lost souls, it must be rectified.


    How?


    I can think of a few reasons that would disturb a soul to such a degree, it would not find peace, Benedict spected. The most obvious one is that they were not buried with the proper rites. A raven feather to banish Hel and the eagle idol to summon the guide to the afterlife, without these things no spirit can be certain of safe conduct.


    What else?


    These men died in the defence of Tothmor, correct? As long as the city is held by the ounders, their deaths must seem in vain. The city must be liberated.


    Leanders face became distorted with various emotions. Is that all?


    Some no doubt left behind wives and children turned into widows and the fatherless. Despair over what will be of ones family can be powerful force.


    But what I am to do? Leander asked, his voice unsteady. If I could retake Tothmor, I would not be sitting here!


    True, none of this can be rectified at present. You must look to these things once the Order has defeated the ounders and you are restored to your kingdom, Benedict told the king.


    That could take years! Am I to suffer without sleep until then?


    Not necessarily. Benedict raised a hand to assuage the kings concerns. Until then, protection may be given to Your Majesty to ward off the spirits and allow you rest.


    What must I do?


    Go the merchants of the square, Benedict instructed him, and buy a raven pendant made from silver. Take it to the sibyls at their temple and have it sanctified. Wear it around your neck on a silver chain at all times, even during baths. The symbol of the Raven Lady, sanctified and further amplified by the silver, will keep the spirits at bay.


    Thank you, Leander spoke. Thank you.


    My pleasure to serve, Benedict smiled.


    ~~~~


    Ahead of the evening meal, there had been much idle spection as to whether the travelling troupe would perform. All hopes were dashed, however, as the actors were not in sight once the meal began. Their spectacle was to be saved until the solstice feast, and food was served without entertainment.


    Conversation flourished in its absence. Isabel had been ced by the kings left hand side; by his right hand sat his mother, asionally leading his attention away from the Hthian princess. The remainder of the exiles from Hthiod were at the end of the high table, huddled in hushed speech as usual.


    I sought her out earlier today, but she was not in her chambers, Beatrice told the others, ncing down the table at her sister, Isabel.


    Is she deliberately avoiding us, or simply too busy hatching schemes, Irene pondered.


    Irene! Beatrice eximed. That is not in Isabels nature.


    It is in everyones nature, Irene scoffed.


    Regardless of what Aunt Isabel wants, Theodora interjected, it is immaterial to us. We have our own goals to reach.


    Quite right, her mother assented with a nod, while Irene continued to watch Isabel with a thoughtful expression.


    Across the table, Leander was engaged in conversation with Hubert. Troy has not written in weeks, the kingined. What is the cause of this idleness?


    Your Majesty, Hubert spoke with unusual patience, while winter persists, do not expect any news. The Order cannot campaign during these months, nobody can. Frankly, I am surprised that they even maintain a camp rather than having retreated to Inghold for winter quarters.


    Why not use this cessation of activity against the ounders? Leander questioned. If they are as idle as we, there must be some way to surprise them.


    The ounders will have packed themselves tightly in our cities, the count of Esmarch pointed out grimly. Each of their garrisons outnumber the Order army in Hthiod, I would wager.


    Outnumber the Order, Leander mumbled. There is the problem in a nutshell. We are left to fend for ourselves. So much for the Alliance of Adalmearc.


    Perhaps, a voice spoke with emphasis on each word, his majesty forgets theplexity of the situation.


    Leander and Hubert, sitting closest to the centre of the high table, turned towards the speaker. Prince Aqu, Leander spoke coldly. We have never been formally introduced, I believe.


    Your Majesty, vius replied in greeting, inclining his head. True, I rarely dine at the pce. I have many concerns keeping me upied, which could be said for every fighting man in the realm.


    I have seen little cause for concern during my time in Korndale, Leander replied, his voice still touched by chill. Unless you mean whether the cows and corn grow sufficiently fat.


    Until this year, I believe the concerns of Hthiod were simr, Aqu retorted, his voice no friendlier than Leanders. We will not be caught unawares, our cities turned trophies for our foes.


    Once spring arrives, there will be ck boots in Korndale. Aware or not, your cities will fall if the ounders are not stopped, Leander imed darkly.


    Then we will stop them, vius dered confidently. The men of the Dale have kept our watch at the Langstan since it was built. We will not falter like Hthiod did.


    You question our worth as warriors? Hubert eximed.


    I merely state the facts, vius retorted coldly.


    You may state them with your de, the count demanded. Prove your prowess and your words!


    Count Hubert! Theodora all but yelled as the would-bebatants stared each other down.


    A sparring match, Irene quickly spoke. A courteousparison of your respective skill with the sword.


    Everyone was silent for a moment. Nothing would please me more, came the reply from vius, relieving some of the tension. Tomorrow in the hour after dawn, the Order castle. I shall await you there.


    Not if I arrive first, Hubert muttered, inclining his head towards the prince of Aqu in eptance of the terms. Close by, Isabelsughter in response to a jest from the king could be heard.

 Chapter 56: Salt and Swords

    Chapter 56: Salt and Swords


    Salt and Swords


    Plenmont


    Before dawn, Leandery awake in bed. He nced with envy to his side, where Theodora slept peacefully. The con provided by the physician was empty, providing no further sleep. He got out of bed only to shiver as he left the warm covers; this close to winter solstice, even Plenmont was cold. Pacing around the room in circles, he soon abandoned his march without a destination. Returning to the covers, he dug out the silver raven hanging around his neck and sped it tightly.


    ~~~~


    In the hour after dawn, the sun was too low on the horizon to send its feeble rays inside the courtyard of the Order keep, which subsequently was gripped by shadows. Despite the cold and early hour, several scores of men were gathered outside. Every rank was represented from footman to marshal, and they formed an uneven circle. Inside stood vius, prince of Aqu, known as Ironside for his prowess in battle. Dismounting a small distance away was Hubert, count of Esmarch, followed by a yawning Leander and a few Queens des.


    You did not have toe, Hubert told his king, but I appreciate your presence.


    I have no better ns today, Leander replied indifferently. Though I am unconvinced this holds much purpose. If you want to train, any of the des will give you good fight.


    You think I challenged him on a whim, boy? Hubert shook his head. He is the loudest voice speaking against Korndale intervening in Hthiod. When I put a few dents in his armour and his teeth, his voice will count for less.


    I see, Leander frowned. That is actually clever.


    I will disregard the surprise in your voice, Hubert muttered, striding towards the informal circle of men awaiting him.


    Bothbatants had removed the sword scabbards from their belts, epting a blunt de instead. Each had his customary surcoat and shield, however, emzoned with their respective heraldry. As this was but a training bout, no courtesies were exchanged, no derations spoken; they simply nodded to each other and assumed stance.


    Both men watched the other like a hawk. Whenever one stepped forward, the other mirrored it. Still the distance between them was too great that eithers de could reach the other. Impatient shouts from some of the spectators could be heard, spurring the warriors on. Elbow jabs from the veteran soldiers, who better understood what each move meant, silenced those eager voices.


    A sudden lunge forward from Hubert was followed by a swift thrust forward, crossing over to strike at vius sword arm below the shoulder. The prince brought his shield up, knocking Huberts sword aside. A few encouraging yells erupted, only to quickly die down.


    Once more the careful circling around. Again Hubert stepped forward, this time pushing his shield up high. It was not close enough to strike the prince, but it blocked his field of vision, preventing him from seeing Huberts sword strike against his knee just above the greaves. The de hit, twisting vius leg, making him stumble. Loud cheers were heard, especially from the few heathmen present. Before Hubert could follow up on his advantage, however, the prince regained his footing and pushed upwards, shield against shield, forcing the count backwards.


    Both retreated a few paces, leaving vius near the edge of the circle. Gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, Huberts mouth curled in a sneer briefly and leapt forward. Heunched a series of assaults, keeping vius defending. The princes back was against the circle, limiting his movements, but his expression remained cool. He denied each attack, letting his opponent wear himself out.


    No sound was heard other than metal, wood, leather, and fabric shing, until Hubert at length stepped back with a snarl.


    No longer beleaguered, the prince stepped forward, and the fighters began circling each other again as they had in the beginning. A few groans could be heard from somewhere in the crowd.


    The sun had managed to rise above the walls, shining down into the courtyard. As both warriors exchanged blows continuously, their sweat blended together with the smell of leather and weapon oil. The circle surrounding them became a little wider.


    With the onset of fatigue, their movements grew less careful, less precise. Each attacked whenever they saw an opening, only to be denied. Beads of sweat trickled past their eyebrows to hinder their sight. Their hands were growing numb from the hard grip on their sword hilts. Each had tears in his surcoat. Both were muttering curses underboured breathing.


    Eventually their weariness led the mistakes, blows hitting marks. Due to their armour and blunted weapons, however, little more than bruises would be the result. Although appearing worn, Hubert attacked with his customary impetus, striking and receiving strikes in return. It did not matter how many times vius punished the count for his aggressive behaviour; nothing seemed to dampen his desire to be offensive.


    Finally, the prince of Aqu retreated a step. Enough, he spoke hoarsely. I believe we have both learned what could be gained.


    Hubert had been on the verge of another assault, but he halted himself; after a moments consideration, he nodded slowly. I thank you for the opportunity to hone my skills, he told his opponent, clearing his throat several times.


    Servants with cups of lukewarm, diluted wine offered the beverages to the exhausted men, who afterwards each retired from the already dissolving circle; with the entertainment gone, the interest of the spectators had evaporated.


    The Queens des were quick topliment their leader as he joined them, while the king had less to say. He was good, Leander remarked briefly.


    They do not call him Ironside without reason, Hubert growled; the wine had done little to soothe his parched throat.


    I suppose nothing gained, nothing lost.


    This might have been a draw, the count of Esmarch admitted grudgingly, but we will continue whittling these Dalemen down until they acquiesce.


    Let us return to the pce until then, Leander dered. I am cold.


    As the king of Hthiod departed with his countrymen, vius took another cup of wine in the courtyard. By his side stood the marshal of Korndale, who had witnessed the fight. Well fought! he told the prince.


    I could not beat him, vius muttered in between quenching his thirst. I thought for sure his aggressive style would leave him tired soon, but he was relentless.


    It was an impressive disy of skill, Ferdinand nodded to himself.


    He may be the best I have ever fought, the prince admitted, handing his cup to a servant and removing his helmet to wipe his brow.


    You held your ground admirably, the marshal continued.


    I did nothing, vius grumbled, leaving without further words.


    ~~~~


    Plenmont had its share of pces and majestic residences. Many belonged to the nobility; of thosemonborn, the grandest home was owned by the richest merchant in the city, who also served as alderman of Plenmont. Inside one of its stately halls sat two men by arge table, richly decorated with carvings. Each man wore a golden chain around his waist, signalling that he held same title as alderman as the owner of the house, albeit in other cities.


    One of the many sets of doors in the room opened, allowing entry to the master of the house. Unlike his peers, dressed in furs and jewellery and with waistlines that stretched their golden chains due to an affluent life, the alderman of Plenmont was lean and dressed only for warmth, not wealth.


    Master Rufus, Master Felix, the alderman spoke. Wee to my home.


    Rufus nodded in response as their host took a seat by the end of the table, though Felix did not share his quiet attitude. Master Fabian, he spoke sourly, I am in no mood for pleasantries. What is the reason you made us travel here? I will miss the solstice feast at home, heined.


    My pardons, Fabian replied with an affable smile. Time is short.


    What is amiss? asked Rufus.


    I have been summoned to a council of the king to advise him on the ramifications, should or should he not intervene in Hthiod, the alderman from Plenmont exined. It takes ce the day after solstice, so it was necessary we meet now.


    About time, Felix grumbled. We need the ounders kicked out of Hthiod at once. Our salt stores are dwindling.


    How long will theyst? asked Fabian.


    Enough tost winter, the alderman from Florentia replied. It will notst past the next.


    If youck the salt to cure the meat, can you not sell the animals before ughter? Fabian asked next.


    With the recent ravages of war, southern Adalrik will be in need, argued Rufus. There is little risk either with peace restored. Ideal conditions.


    With the ounders in Hthiod and barely any Order armies to hold them back, I cant tell my merchants to send their wares to Ingmond, Felix argued. The ck boots are sure to raid. Itll have to be in Ealond instead.


    I cannot support that, Rufus spoke quietly. There is word that the duke of Belvoir is gathering troops, most likely tounch an attack upon Tricaster. The alderman from that very city looked at hispanions. We should not allow him to feed his troops with our meat.


    How certain is this attack? Fabian questioned. To break the peace of the Alliance the duke must have the support of his king, and even then it seems a dubious n.


    The Order is stretched thin, Rufus pointed out. Hthiod is in enemy hands, and the garrisons of Adalrik and Ealond have been emptied to retake it. With no basileus and the Order weakened, who will punish Ealond for attacking us?


    Even if there isnt a basileus, Adalrik still has a ruler, Felix from Florentia argued. The jarl of Vale, isnt it? He will have to act.


    He has no authority over the Order, Fabian spoke contemtively. Only the Order can punish the duke for attacking Korndale. It will be years before there is a king in Middanhal again, and by then, much may have changed.


    We cannot keep the duke of Belvoir from gaining arms or soldiers, Rufus from Tricaster admitted. But an army without provisions is no army at all. We must cease all sale to Ealond.


    Agreed.


    Felix hesitated a moment. Agreed, he grumbled. But that makes it all the more urgent that Hthiod is liberated. If the salt mines are not soon returned to our control, we will starve.


    That seems an anxious statement, countered Rufus. We may not be able to cure our meat, but there will be plenty of other food to eat. Sending our soldiers to Hthiod leaves Tricaster open for the duke to attack.


    If he attacks, Felix pointed out. Without salt, starvation is guaranteed.


    It will only be hastened by intervention in Hthiod, Rufus argued. If the king is to mount a campaign and send his soldiers abroad, they will need provisions, which the cities will be required to provide.


    Provisions including cured meat, Fabian finished Rufus point.


    It will not matter if we empty our salt stores, the alderman from Florentia imed, if Hthiod is retaken and the supply of salt restored.


    If, Rufus replied. It seems highly unlikely the ounders can be defeated for good in but a single year. Why waste not only our salt stores but also our soldiers?


    They need not retake all of Hthiod, Felix argued loudly. Strike from Ingmond and take Polisals, all our concerns are at rest.


    Fail in the assault, and our concerns have only just begun, Rufus said quietly.


    Thank you, Fabian from Plenmont interceded quickly before Felix could reply. Let us take some time to consider it all and meet again tonight. My servants will have prepared rooms for you both, and naturally, you are guests of the guilds for solstice. The other aldermen mumbled their gratitude, after which the men dispersed.


    ~~~~


    In the afternoon, Beatrice made her way towards the chambers upied by her sister. After she was admitted, Isabel rose to meet her, and there was a moment of silence before either spoke.


    I am d to see you well, Beatrice finally uttered.


    As I am d to see you, Isabel replied in a neutral voice.


    It has been many years.


    Over a decade, Isabel pointed out, her voice still toneless. You came to Middanhal to celebrate the birth of my son.


    Right, her sister mumbled. Strange circumstances that we should meet again in Plenmont.


    Isabel sat down again, gesturing for the other woman to do the same. No stranger than so many other events ofte.


    Still, we were all surprised when you arrived. We had no word in advance.


    I did not know you were in Plenmont, Isabel exined.


    Then what brought you here? asked Beatrice.


    The king is our kinsman, albeit distantly. I had no desire to remain in Adalrik, and I obviously could not return to Tothmor, her sister pointed out. Where else should I go?


    We are merely surprised you did not seek us out after your arrival, Beatrice borated. You spend the meals in the kingspany, avoiding ours.


    I avoid nothing, Isabel replied with dismissiveughter. We are speaking now, are we not?


    If you intend to continue seeking out the kingspany


    He seeks out mine, Isabel interjected.


    Of course, Beatrice conceded. Since you have his ear, could you measure his intentions towards Hthiod?


    I do not discuss such matters with Adrd.


    Surely he would not mind, Beatrice argued.


    I will be forthright with you, Isabel told her sister. I have no interest in Hthiod or its fate. The ounders are wee to it for all I care.


    You cannot be serious, Beatrice eximed aghast. It is your home as much as mine!


    It was, Isabel corrected her coldly. It has not been for twenty years, and it never will be again.


    How can you care so little? We spent all our years as children there, together! Beatrice argued.


    And then I turned twenty-one, and I was sent to Middanhal as if I were a crate of salt, Isabel retorted acidly.


    You were sent to marry the future high king, Beatrice countered. It was an honour shown to you.


    Let me tell you of the honour shown to me, Isabel sneered. Ten years spent trying to conceive, three miscarriages and one stillborn child. Ten years with every sibyl andy brother in the city examining me, studying me, and prescribing their vile methods for ensuring my childrens health. Ten years of my father-inw hating me, thedies at court scorning me, and my own husband seeking any excuse to avoid me!


    I am deeply grieved to hear that, her sister spoke faintly.


    As if I were the problem when everyone knew that the old king had just as much trouble conceiving an heir, Isabel continued. But they could never ept this truth concerning their precious blood of Sigvard, so all me fell to me. And when I finally had a healthy boy, when my husband finally began to appreciate me, what happened? They took them both from me, she finished with her face twisted into a hateful expression.


    Isabel, my heart bleeds for all you have suffered, Beatrice began to say.


    Perhaps, but that does me little good. Twenty years at that court have taught me everything I need, and that does not include sympathy.


    Isabel


    I consider it best if you leave now, Sister.


    Beatrice was on the verge of speaking again, but looking at Isabels face, she remained silent and left the room instead.


    ~~~~


    Elsewhere in the pce, the remainder of the Hthian exiles were gathered in the chambers of their queen.


    I can make a second attempt at duelling him, Your Majesty, Hubert suggested.


    I think we have exhausted our possibilities with the prince of Aqu, Irene said pointedly.


    Indeed. There does not seem to be any possibility of changing his mind, Theodora agreed. We will have to sway the king by other means.


    Such as? Leander asked in a tired voice.


    King Adrd has other counsellors. Failing that, we appeal to him directly, Theodora dered.


    The seneschal keeps him inessible, her husband retorted. We are running out of options.


    If you are quite done assuming defeat, Irene told him sharply, we should look elsewhere. The seneschal may have the king on strings, but someone else is pulling those strings.


    Who? asked Theodora.


    I have been told the seneschal holds meetings with the queen mother, Irene exined with a satisfied expression.


    Another old hag gripping power tightly with her gnarled fingers, Leander muttered. We should have expected as much.


    As we should have expected yet another useless king, Irene sneered.


    Enough! Theodora eximed. Swallowing his reply, Leander drank deeply from a cup of wine instead. If the queen mother can be persuaded to help us, we must explore that possibility, Theodora dered.


    How might we persuade her? asked Hubert. We have no ties to her, no cause to call upon her aid other than what virtue and nobility proscribe.


    She will not help us out of the goodness of her heart, no, Irene said dryly. But Queen Sigrid is dragonborn, and while the drakonians may not admit it, her son could be counted as one. With the Dragon Throne vacant, I imagine her eyes have turned north many times ofte.


    It is not empty, Leander interjected, his voice a tad slurry. They put that boy on it.


    He may sit upon it, but it will not be his for several years, Irene retorted. The Adalthing gave it to him, and they may take it back.


    Regardless, how might that help us? asked Theodora. We are hardly in a position to aid the queen or her son in achieving this.


    I have an idea, Irene dered, her expression satisfied once more. Leave the queen mother to me.


    The conversation was interrupted by Beatrice arriving. She took seat next to her daughter while shaking her head. Isabel would not listen to me. She could not care less for the fate of Hthiod or us.


    Disappointing, Irene replied, but to be expected. She did note to Korndale for our sake.


    Is there none others we might rely on?


    The alderman, Hubert suddenly spoke. If Korndale goes to war, the cities will have to pay for it.


    Yes, the king will tell the cities to pay, Irene said dismissively. He will not ask this moneygrubber for permission or whether they can pay.


    It is not merely a question of coin, Hubert retorted. Weapons, supplies, food. The king might very well rely upon the aldermans information to make his decision.


    If so, we should ensure that information is friendly to our cause, Theodora dered.


    Should I speak with him, Your Majesty? Hubert suggested hesitantly. It may appear unseemly for any member of the royal family to have dealings with this  merchant.


    Let us use that to our advantage, Theodora replied. We will see how the alderman deals with a queen.


    Very good, Your Majesty, Hubert nodded. Next to him, Leander emptied his cup.


    ~~~~


    As night fell, activity in the pce gradually declined. The remaining holdout where light and conversation still continued untilte was the kitchen. This was not merely due to servants carrying out chores but also caused by the presence of the acting troupe.


    What I want to know is, said one servant, when are you actually going to y on a harp?


    All in good time, my friend, replied the leader of the actors with a smile. You shall be well entertained. in of Egnils Harps gives you his word.


    Yeah, see, because with a name like that, the servant continued, I reckoned you were here to y the harp.


    We have nned a most magnificent y, in told his audience. It will be spoken of for years toe, and any who will hear that you were in attendance that particr solstice feast shall be green with envy.


    But I havent even seen a harp among all your gear.


    If you will forgive me, I should see to our preparations. Standing up from the benches, the actor let his smiles and winks flow freely as he passed through the servants, leaving the kitchen.


    Entering the courtyard, in walked over to the assembly of carts and wagons belonging to his troupe. Climbing into one of them, he moved a few items around until finally pulling a nket away. This revealed a small crate with bars, keeping a handful of pigeons imprisoned. The creatures cooed as he opened the small hatch to grab one of them. Docile, the pigeon patiently allowed in to tie a strip of paper to its leg. This aplished, he released the pigeon into the air, and it quickly beat its wings flying west towards Ealond.

 Chapter 57: Winter Play

    Chapter 57: Winter y


    Winter y


    Plenmont


    Just as summer solstice, its counterpart in winter was a feast celebrated all over Adalmearc. No work was carried out that could be dyed, and as soon as the sun set on the shortest day of the year, merriment began. Despite the cold, long, and dark night, or perhaps because of it, winter solstice was a feast without bonds on the revelries of any kind in Plenmont. Drink flowed as freely as it could, games of all sorts took ce, and many children would be born nine months hence.


    The mood was likewise inside the pce on solstice night, although the entertainment took other forms. Food from every corner of Adalmearc and beyond was served, allowing the members of court to gorge themselves. The meat of bears stuffed with exotic fruit and sweetened by honey, vegetables bothmon and unusual, wine and ale and mead in cups and as ingredients for dishes; there seemed to be no end to this disy of gluttony.


    When the meal was finally done, a choir of geolrobes entered. For a moment, this made the gathering more sombre, though itsted a short while due to the amount of drink consumed already. A deep hum began to sound from the priests, using their voices as instruments, and only as it grew louder did the revellers grow quiet.


    Hear now all with heart to understand, came the song, the tale of boldest man to breathe.


    Other voices joined in. Hear what by his hand alone was wrought.


    Great deed begets but honour great, the full choir sang, and makes name immortal.


    Soon, the audience listened rapt to the Song of Sigvard.


    Many eyes turned towards King Adrd as the song began; along with his mother, he was the only descendant of Sigvard in the realm. The performance was in homage to him and a recent tradition at the court of Plenmont; Sigrid had brought it with her from Middanhal, introducing it the year that her son had been born.


    Sigvard, bold and brave was born in days, the song flowed, when oft the crows would feed in full.


    A magnificent performance, Isabel whispered by the kings side. Truly befitting the honour worthy of Sigvards blood.


    I can only agree, Adrd replied graciously.


    I merely regret the surroundings, Isabel added, almost as an afterthought.


    You do not think my pce worthy? the king questioned with sudden displeasure.


    War, the first and greatest of its kind


    I meant no such things, she quickly said. I was merely thinking of past winters spent in Middanhal, hearing this very song performed before the high king. For a moment, I imagined Your Majesty seated upon the Dragon Throne. Forgive my ill choice of words.


    All is forgiven, Adrd dered magnanimously, frowning his brow in thought.


    I suppose that Hardling boy is given such honour tonight, Isabel continued, looking ahead at the choir while speaking. A pity, since he seems hardly worthy the title of king, let alone to take Sigvards ce.


    A pity, Adrd mumbled.


    with harvest to wither.


    ~~~~


    While Sigvard climbed Wyrmpeak in the song, there was hectic movements going on outside the dining hall. The Harps of Egnil were preparing their act, dressed in colourful costumes and masks, while their helpers were hauling in great tapestries and assembling wooden constructions. The servants were crowding nearby to catch any glimpse they could, which caused some obstruction and a good deal of curses to be uttered.


    As the Great War ended, thest notes of the song hung in the air momentarily. There was no apuse, for the Song of Sigvard was not that kind of spectacle; instead, the geolrobes marched out in silence. Itsted briefly before the leader of the actors burst into the hall, upying the empty space vacated by the priests.


    Gracious king, good noblemen, gentledies, in spoke with numerous gestures, we are on the eve of the longest night. Behind him, the workmen set up the tapestries as screens, unfolding them to reveal the setting of a tranquil forest painted upon them. As all learned people are aware, tonight is when spirits roam thends, eerie sights can be seen, and the veil between the waking world and the dream is thin.


    He had the attention of all, except the seneschal whispering in the queen mothers ear. She is nting the idea in the kings head.


    Sigrid nodded. Very well. We will have to separate them soon, but let her do our work for tonight.


    It is on this night that ournds are visited by fae beings, in continued. Elven spectres and sprites, and all manners of creatures that dwell in the air. Whereas they roam only field and forest on other asions, tonight they are emboldened to enter the homes of decent folk in search of mischief.


    Behind him, the forest had been set up and the stage was ready. Several of the actors were moving about in front of the painted trees, dressed in odd clothes with bright colours,ughing silently and making toasts without words.


    Tonight, it is our pleasure to show your noble eyes this mischief yed upon mortal Men, in spoke again, and more than that, we invite you to partake! This sent waves of whispers through the audience, wondering what was meant. Our tale begins as the sun has set and the longest night begun, in the deep forests of Florentia, where the Elven king holds court. A gilded throne appeared between the trees, pushed forward by some clever contraption. Yet where is his faery majesty? in asked; the throne was empty. The actor turned towards the high table, approaching it until he bowed deeply before the king of Korndale. There is but one with the august presence to y this role. I beseech his majesty to take his rightful ce.


    With a ttered expression, Adrd rose from his seat and walked onto the area turned into a stage. Immediately, he was surrounded by a few dainty women, dressed as dryads, who covered him in flowing robes and put a mask upon him.


    The y could now take its beginning. in set the stage as the narrator, extolling the virtues and splendour of the Elven king, who was brought to life by Adrd. With each gesture made by the king to apany the speech from in, the court responded with appropriate mirth. Even the Hthian exiles, unused to such spectacle, soon found themselves engrossed. Sigrid alone, the queen mother, was not caught up by the story unfolding; pensively, she studied her son instead.


    ~~~~


    The y continued with this novelty of involving the audience. Never before had a performance in Korndale made use of spectators to fill its roles, and the king was only the first. An Elven queen, a paragon of grace and beauty, was needed as well, and Isabel was chosen for this; like the king, she was swiftly dressed in robes that easily fitted onto her existing attire and ced upon a throne amidst great cheer andughter. As for Isabel, none present seemed more agreeable or swift to smile.


    Other members of the court were given various roles as the story progressed and demanded it. More sprites to fill the Elven court, mostly, and other such ttering positions. The actors retained the parts of the viins, who were savage warriors, mortal Men confounded by the Elven mysteries surrounding them. When confronted with wonder, these brutes reacted with fear; they saw threats where none existed and rattled their swords a great deal to the amusement of the audience.


    What a spectacle! Theodora eximed. Herpanions agreed, most of them as enraptured as her; even Leander had let go of his wine cup. They had rarely seen such before, as ys and actors were scarce in Hthiod. The heathmen did not put on performances themselves, and travelling troupes rarely ventured east beyond Korndale or Adalrik. We must invite this merry band to perform for us in Tothmor, the queen dered.


    The mood grew sober for a moment at the reminder of their lost homnd. Quite right, my dear, Beatrice spoke. We have not had such amusement since before you were born, I dare say.


    With good reason, Irene spoke with a slight sneer. She was one of the few not in the throes ofughter.


    Is anyone surprised that she would be the one to object, Leander asked without seeking an answer.


    These actors are rivermen and clearly in the service of such, Irene continued, throwing a sharp nce at Leander. Notice the names of the Elven court are names from Ealond, she pointed out. Whereas the brutish savage has a Dalish name. Does his ragged costume not suggest a certain plumage? Like the feathers of a bird?


    An eagle, Theodora realised. The prince of Aqu.


    This piper may be paid by the king of Korndale, but the tune was written by the duke of Belvoir, Irene finished.


    Be that as it may, Hubert interjected with his eyes locked on the performance, I have never been so entertained before in my life. To this, Leander raised his cup in salute.


    On the stage, the y was reaching its end. By the grace of the gods, whose light shine in the visage of our noble sovereign, in dered while gesturing towards Adrd, who still wearing his guise as the Elven king was basking in the ttery, we arrive at the conclusion of our tale. Let it serve as a lesson to all, whose minds are clouded by the fog known as fear. Only the illuminating rays of a wise monarch may pierce the mist surrounding lesser minds to dispel cowardice masquerading as bravado. Indeed, thus may we all remove our masks, he ended, removing his own object of disguise. The other actors, both those professional and those improvised, did likewise, while the remaining audience cheered and apuded loudly.


    The stage was quickly disassembled while those involved returned to their seats; the king gantly offered his arm to Isabel, hispanion both at the table and during the y. They were quickly engaged in mirthful conversation, as were most of those present in the hall. The kings mother was an exception; she had watched her sons involvement with and reaction to the y with a contemtive gaze.


    That was quite a funny y, one of the servants remarked to another, even if they never yed the harp once.


    ~~~~


    Once the stage had been dismantled, the vacant space was left empty for the final piece of the evenings festivities. Musicians with lutes and flutes, but no harps, took position, as did the courtiers on the open floor. It was time for the chain dance to begin. Once the dancers were in ce, the musicians started ying their instruments, and one of them began the song.


    A boy who came from where the river flowed through vale,


    Now sing till sea shall cover hill, the dancers sang in unison.


    With cheeks so red and legs so strong, his body hale, came the next line.


    Now sing till sea shall cover hill!


    The maiden fair he came to court with flowers full, the troubadour continued, while bearing many gifts and cloth of finest wool.


    Whilend is dry, the song shall sound, if but a sigh to tallest mound, the revellers eximed.


    Most of the court was walking the steps of the dance; only the eldest with the excuse of old legs remained sitting. Although Irene stood up, it was not to join in; instead, she walked up the high table to reach the kings mother. May I be seated? she asked.


    Sigrid nced in her direction and gave a brief nod. You may, she granted, and the other woman sat down next to her.


    How pleasant to experience winter solstice at your court, Irene began to speak while a servant fetched her cup of wine. I did not expect to hear the Song of Sigvard. In Middanhal, certainly, but not in Plenmont.


    The dragonborn are found elsewhere than Middanhal, Sigrid remarked curtly.


    Indeed, there is yourself, Irene assented.


    And my son, the queen mother replied with an edge to her words, her eyes on Adrd.


    Is he counted as such? From what I recall, the drakonians only care if the lineage passes from father to son. The Adalthing does not recognise Sigvards blood born of the mother, the Hthian dowager queen carefully spoke.


    Blood is blood, Sigrid spoke sharply. She turned to look at herpanion again, and this time, her gaze lingered. You are not known for idle talk or the desire to exchange pleasantries. I care as little for dancing with words as I do out there, she added while throwing her head towards the dance floor, so speak.


    It will be years until the Hardling boy is crowned king of Adalrik, Irene began her exnation. If you want to strengthen your sons im, you need two things.


    They are?


    Legitimacy to make the lords of Adalrik bow willingly, and military might to make them bow by force if necessary, Irene argued.


    You happen to have both in your pocket, I am sure, Sigrid spoke with disdain.


    I know how to procure both, Irene imed.


    Your price for this?


    None. Our goals will align. I require nothing from you, she smiled.


    Continue, Sigridmanded.


    Your son is unmarried. There is one woman with blood as noble as his. A union with her and children born of that union will make the Adalthing far more amenable towards King Adrd.


    You speak of the Hardling girl, Sigrid said dismissively. I already considered as such, but tying my son to House Hardling will only causeplications.


    Not Hardling, Irene corrected her with satisfaction. There is a young woman in House Arnling as well, rumoured to be quite the beauty, even.


    Arnling, Sigrid muttered. I forgot about them. They were always so insignificant when I lived at my fathers court.


    Not anymore. You must have heard the tales, surely, of the young knight who led the armies of the Order to defeat the traitors of Isarn?


    I would hardly call Richard of Alwood young, Sigrid scoffed. You must be speaking of the other, his lieutenant  Abruptly, she stopped speaking for a moment. Adalbrand. Of course, it was in his name all along.


    Trained under the old wolf, Athelstan, I am told, Irene told her, before beating him on the battlefield. They say that as amander, young Adalbrand is unmatched by any in the Seven Realms.


    An alliance with Arnling would us the girl and her im added to Adrd along with amander to lead his armies, Sigrid described. I see your point. However, I fail to see your interest in this.


    Young Adalbrand is not free to do as he pleases. He is on assignment from the Order that might tie him down for years, or worse, lead to defeat. He would surely be grateful towards any that brought him aid and allowed him toplete his mission, Irene argued. His reputation is enhanced by victory, which he would owe to your son.


    What assignment is this? Sigrid asked, frowning.


    He leads the Order army on its campaign to liberate Hthiod, Irene smiled.


    I see, was Sigrids only reply.


    Thank you for indulging my idle talk, Irene replied, returning to her own seat. She snapped her fingers a few times until her cup of wine was returned to her, allowing her to take a deep draught.


    At length, the music ended, the dance was done, and winter solstice had been celebrated. It waste with sunrise not many hours away as the courtiers stumbled towards their chambers. A few servants lingered to remove the food and drink, saving it from spoil and helping themselves to some of it. The longest night of the year was done; now the days would grow longer, and the Seven Realms had brighter times ahead

 Chapter 58: The Words of a King

    Chapter 58: The Words of a King


    The Words of a King


    Plenmont


    After the long night, nearly all in the pce at Plenmont slept past dawn, excluding the servants. It was the day upon which the king would summon his advisors to counsel him concerning the situation in Hthiod, though it was clear from the kings deep slumber that the council would not be held any time soon. In contrast to her son, Sigrid had woken not long after sunrise, forcing her handmaidens to do as well. Once she was suitably attired, she dismissed her attendants and waited in solitude in her room, drinking only a little wine and eating a few white cakes as her breakfast.


    There was a knock on the door, and the actor in entered. He walked with his usual confidence, though his pace was slower than usual. Spotting Sigrid, he made a deep bow as refined as any courtier. Mydy, he greeted her, to which she replied with a nod.


    You are no doubt wondering why I have summoned you, Sigrid dered.


    I am happy to serve, in simply told her with a charming smile.


    Sigrid cast him a scrutinising look. You hide the fact that you are nervous very well. Must be the actor in you.


    Mydy, in replied, what in my appearance would ever give you cause to believe I am nervous?


    Nothing, Sigrid admitted with a sardonic smile, but all men are nervous when summoned by me. Even my son. ins lips parted, but no reply passed through them, and after a moment of silence, Sigrid continued. You need not be worried on this morning, however. I require your assistance.


    in seemed to regain his footing, and he inclined his head with a slight flourish. As said, happy to serve the queen mother.


    I need your skills as an orator, Sigrid borated. I need a speech to convince a king.


    ~~~~


    Around noon, the alderman of Plenmont was preparing to leave for the kings council. He was dressed in his finest garbs, fur-lined and with the golden chain of his office around his waist. A servant entered just as another was putting the aldermans cape on him. There is a royal carriage from the pce for you, master, the servant exined.


    Very well, Fabian nodded. Tell the driver I will be out in a moment. While the servant left to do this, Fabian collected some papers from his desk, each filled with rows of numbers. Emptying a small cup of wine, the alderman nced around and walked outside.


    He gave a brief nod to the driver of the carriage, who opened the door for him. Stepping inside, Fabian saw that the interior was already upied. A young woman, whose appearance signalled nobility of the highest rank, awaited him. This left him in an awkward position, stooping inside the carriage; he was unable to bow properly, yet courtesy also prevented him from sitting down.


    Please, alderman, be seated, Theodora said graciously.


    Thank you, Your Majesty, Fabian replied, inclining his head and taking position opposite her. Outside, the driver set the carriage into motion.


    You know who I am, she remarked.


    Although the pce is not my usual haunt, Your Majesty would be recognisable to anybody who has seen you but once, he told her, which made her smile.


    I see that words as well as numbers are your strength.


    May I ask what has brought Your Majesty to grace me with herpany?


    I wished to speak with you in private before the kings council was held. But you could no doubt guess as much, Theodora dered.


    It was the most obvious answer, Fabian admitted.


    You can also guess what my intentions with this meeting are, perhaps, Theodora suggested.


    You wish for me to counsel the king in support of military intervention in Hthiod, the aldermany out.


    The guilds are well served by you, alderman, the queen ttered him.


    He nced out of the window at the streets of Plenmont quickly passing by; the royal insignia on the carriage meant that none dared to slow their progress or hinder it in any way. I must advise the king to do what is best for Korndale. From the perspective of the guilds.


    I understand, Theodora nodded. That is why I bring you an offer. To change the perspective of the guilds.


    What offer?


    Once this war has ended, trade needs to resume, including newmissions on salt trade.


    Sold primarily to Hthian merchants, Fabian retorted, and only at a steep price to Dalemen.


    Not if the Dalemen march to war in Hthiod, Theodora promised. Half themissions will be sold to Dalish traders, at the same price as what any Hthian must pay.


    Fabian hesitated. I have your word as queen?


    In writing, Theodora added, pulling out a small letter and unfolding it. It bore the seal of Hthiod. She handed it to the alderman to read. If Korndalees to Hthiods aid, my written promise to the guilds of Korndale takes effect.


    Fabians eyes ran over the document before he folded it and put it with his other papers. Thank you, Your Majesty. I will keep this in mind.


    Shortly after, the carriage reached the pce in Plenmont, issuing its passengers.


    ~~~~


    The alderman was the first of the advisors to arrive at the council; a servant for pouring wine and also the seneschal Aurelius were already present. He took a seat, cing his papers on the table and sorting through them while waiting. The marshal of the Order came as the second; he greeted Fabian with a gruff sound and sat as well. vius, the prince of Aqu came third, sitting down next to the marshal; they exchanged a few nces and hushed sentences. Sigrid was next to arrive, prompting all the others to rise as she entered. They had only just sat down when the king finally graced them with his presence, making all of them stand up yet again.


    Let us proceed, Adrd dered impatiently, holding out his cup to have it filled. What are we discussing today?


    Whether to send our armies into Hthiod in support of the Order, Your Majesty, Aurelius helpfully exined to the king, who gave a slight groan and began to massage one of his temples.


    Your Majesty, the prince of Aqu began. In these uncertain times, we must look to our own defences first. The ounders might march on Florentia next, Adalrik is engulfed in war and cannot be relied upon, and the rivermen are ever eyeing Tricaster with a lustful gaze.


    Surely they would not dare, Sigrid interjected. There has been peace for centuries, and Korndale is strong. Those cowards only dare attack if they smell weakness.


    Precisely why we must keep our troops at home, Aqu retorted. Sir Ferdinand agrees with me, I am sure.


    The marshal cleared his throat, looking slightly ufortable as all eyes fell on him. Prince vius speaks the truth. The soldiers of Order are meant to keep the peace, and they can only do so while remaining in Tricaster  Korndale, he finished haltingly.


    As marshal, as a knight, you feel no obligation to aid your brothers fighting in Hthiod? the kings mother asked acerbically.


    I am certain they are up to the task, Ferdinand answered, though his voice conveyed little certainty if any.


    Untilmanded by a higher authority, the marshal is simply doing as he was charged, vius spoke brusquely. Protecting Korndale and its borders from being vited.


    Neither of you were present at our feastst night, Sigrid suddenly eximed, changing tune. You did not hear the Song of Sigvard being sung. Yet you are familiar with my sons illustrious ancestor, no doubt. Thest sentence was directed at no one in particr.


    What are you saying, Mother? Adrd asked, though he did not sound particrly interested in the answer.


    Would they sing songs of Sigvard a thousand yearster if he had stayed behind? If he had been deaf when the call to arms was sounded? she asked sharply, rising to her feet. One man, alone, he braved the enemy beyond our borders, defying death and danger! For his valour, the people bowed to him from every corner of the world, and still they bow to his descendants!


    Mydy, this is no song or a y in a stage house  vius objection was not allowed to reach conclusion.


    Is there any king or man more worthy to be the saviour of the realms than you, my son? You, the dragonborn king, in whose veins the blessed blood of Sigvard flows! Sigrid continued.


    Dragonborn king, Adrd repeated, his voice acquiring a dreaming undertone.


    One day, the song at solstice will begin with the words such as these, his mother carried on. When all thends beset by foes, when hope was lost and wept in night, when every realm in deadly throes, one king alone was shining light, burning bright in all his might.


    Silence followed Sigrids deration, which was the only reason why Fabians quiet words could be heard by any. Mydy, I never knew you were a poet.


    War requires more than willing hearts, vius pointed out with a sour expression. It requires men, weapons, and provisions. With all the disruptions in trade, we are sorelycking, not to mention that the heavy expenses that our cities must bear for such a campaign might leave us in ruinous conditions. Is that not true, master alderman?


    Eyes turned towards Fabian. He spoke slowly, but with deliberate, careful words. The guilds will do what the realm demands. The realms of Adalmearc depend on each other. As they have need of us in Hthiod, so have we need of them in Korndale.


    You put the matter into words with excellence, Sigrid eximed satisfied.


    Or his tongue is simply moved by greed, vius all but roared. That is what matters to these coin counters, stacking every petty they can find! I do not know what wealth you think awaits


    Prince vius, Adrd spoke with unusual determination; enough that kings voice silenced his vassal. Your opinion is known. Sir Ferdinand, if Imanded the armies of Korndale to march abroad, could I safely entrust the defence of the realm to you meanwhile?


    Of course, Your Majesty, the marshal replied quickly before receiving a harsh nce from vius. I mean, not that I advise you to. March your armies abroad, that is, he stammered. You can certainly rely on me, he finally said, before any remaining words turned to mumble in his mouth.


    Prince vius, Adrd said mildly, turning to look at the lord of Aqu. I ce militarymand in your experienced hands. We will gather the forces of the three principalities, and you shall lead them to Hthiod to liberate the realm in my name.


    As youmand, Aqu replied with bitterness inscribed on his features.


    d that is settled. I am hungry, the king dered. Aurelius, have something brought to me, he ordered before he left the chamber. The other present hurried to rise as the king did and left after him, each wearing a different expression.


    ~~~~


    The news quickly spread through the pce, including to the Hthian exiles.


    Finally, Theodora sighed. Maybe this nightmare will reach its end soon.


    All our nightmares, Leander muttered.


    I wonder what swayed the king, Hubert contemted. It is hard to imagine what reasons would weigh so heavily to persuade him.


    Hard for you to imagine, Irene said with a slight sneer, but even her voice had little edge to it in this moment. What matters is that he was swayed. Next solstice we may celebrate in our own home.


    As long as we celebrate in different ends of the pce, Leander added, though his scornful remark seemed made out of habit rather than genuine disdain.


    Poor Isabel, Beatrice spoke. All she had was revenge, and now it seems she has been robbed of that as well.


    Her scheme was hare-brained, Irene scoffed. As if the king of Korndale would enter war with Adalrik, even under present circumstances. The jarls would tear him to pieces.


    Poor Isabel, Beatrice reiterated. She was alone in her sentiments, however; the remainder of thepany were gripped by feelings of exuberance alone.


    ~~~~


    Later that day, after having procured a meal for the king and seen to his many other needs and wants, the seneschal met privately with the queen mother in her chambers.


    Have the king isted from thedy Isabel, Sigrid told Aurelius. There is no need to let her gain any further influence over him.


    As you say, mydy, the seneschal bowed. He hesitated for a moment. I was surprised by the council held today.


    There was always great risk waiting for us in Adalrik, the queen mother admitted. How would the Order react, the southern jarls, the northern jarls? A better opportunity presented itself.


    You would know best, mydy.


    Another thing before you go, Sigrid suddenly continued. One of the travelling actors is a spy. Have them all thrown in the dungeons until we can sort out who it is.


    Yes, mydy.


    ~~~~


    Although the decision to mount a campaign into Hthiod would carry many consequences, little activity ensued in the following days. The year was still deep in winter, and little would be done before spring approached other than couriers sent to the other major cities of Korndale, Tricaster and Florentia, instructing them to prepare for war. The Order had many posts along the roads of Adalmearc, allowing their missives to be swiftly carried to their destination, and at times personal letters from military camps also were also transported by their couriers.


    It was due to this that a message from the Order encampment in Hthiod, near the border to Ingmond, travelled to the keep in Plenmont. From here, it continued to the pce and found its way into Leanders hands. The king opened the letter eagerly and read its contents; his eyes widened and he turned quickly towards his wife.


    Read this, he urged her, shaking the paper at her.


    A letter from Troy? she enquired with a frown, taking it from him.


    Read it, he reiterated.


    As her eyes skimmed down the page, she suddenly threw her head up to look at her husband. Can this be true? What does this mean?


    I am not sure, Leander admitted, but I cannot wait to hear Troy exin. A grin began to spread across his face.

 Chapter 59: Walking in Shadows

    Chapter 59: Walking in Shadows


    Walking in Shadows


    Tothmor


    Under the shadow of the mountain, the long nights held Tothmor in their grasp. Afterst bell had rung, the streets were all but deserted; the ounders had forbidden the inhabitants from leaving their homes after dark. Thus the only movement outside came from the patrols of the red-robed Anausa, keeping watch on each of the districts. Most patrols were made in the lowest circle, as it was thergest and most popted. Across the district, the ounders had seized therger buildings, evicted the residents, and turned the ces into guard stations. Several times an hour, each of these bastions of subjugation spewed forth ten red-d soldiers, moving through the fifth circle.


    Although it had been months since Tothmor was seized by the ounders, they had not managed to strangle the city entirely. A man in ragged clothes walked along the edge of the street, sneaking his way forward. It was a cloudy night, which aided him until the moon suddenly found an opportunity to shine its light down. As fortune would have it, a patrol was on the same street, and their vignce found the ragged man. They yelled in their own tongue and sat into motion, running forward. He shouted back in his own speech and bolted; while it was doubtful that either part understood what the other had said, intentions were clear.


    The fugitive crossed into the winding alleys, away from therger streets; although encumbered by spears and small shields, the ounders were hot on his heels. Finally, he ducked in between two looming buildings, still closely pursued. The path ahead was blocked by a cart, turned sideways and taking up as much space as possible. Large crates and jars surrounded the cart, allowing only a small space between the wheels to remain open. The runner fell to his stomach and pushed himself through; moments behind him, the first of the Anausa soldiers did as well.


    The remaining nine warriors began looking for ways to circumvent the cart as well, restless from their running and the rush of pursuing their prey. A scream reached them suddenly,ing from the other side of the obstacle; it was theirrade who had gone through first. Gripping their shields tightly, the ounders nced up at the tall buildings enveloping the alley, and the truth dawned on them.


    From the rooftops, arrows began to fly, sent flying by powerful Hthian longbows. The rtively light armour worn by the Anausa did not offer full protection against such a danger, and several of them fell before the remainder raised their shields and pressed up against the building walls.


    Their heads turned towards the way they came. A shape had appeared, blocking their escape path. Fuelled by despair, the oundersunched themselves against the solitary warrior hemming them in. Armed with a sword against their spears, his task was daunting, but he was aided by arge shield and being a veteran of many fights. He was ukos, one of the few Queens des to have survived the siege without fleeing the fall of the city. He made no offensive move against the ounders, but simply kept them at bay until one by one, the arrows caught up with them.


    As soon as thest man fell, ukos stepped forward and stabbed each of them through their unprotected necks, ensuring none would survive his wounds. Some of hispatriots joined him, retrieving arrows or looting the fallen for their daggers and short swords.


    Time to leave, ukos told the others while ncing around; the death screams of the ounders had caused considerably noise in the otherwise quiet city. Stow your weapons and get home. We meet tomorrow in the usual ce.


    The others nodded briefly, and the men scattered, leaving only the fallen behind as evidence of what had transpired.


    ~~~~


    Once the ounders discovered what had happened, they quickly secured the area. None was allowed near the bodies, and none could enter or leave the vicinity of where the ambush had taken ce. Most of the locals had no interest in approaching either: only a few street children were curious enough to draw close before being driven away by the blunt end of the ounders spears.


    All of them butchered like animals, one of the ounders remarked with a shiver. Not one of these drnders dead.


    Only because they took their own dead with them, another soldier snorted. You dont honestly think the dustmen could kill ten of ours and suffer no losses?


    Quiet, you! barked a third soldier. Herees the fravashi.


    Now all of the ounders shivered. Down the street walked a solitary shape, wearing armour and attire of a dark nature. It was a strange sight to see any of the ounders walking alone on Tothmor; usually they travelled in groups, and with good reason as evidenced by thetest ambush. This particr character was given a wide berth by everyone, however; even daylight seemed to shy away from him. ck cloth was wrapped around his helmet and extended down to cover his face as well, allowing only room for his eyes; they burned yellow.


    The Anausa soldiers quickly stepped aside, opening a gap in their line to let the shadow warrior through. He did not nce or otherwise acknowledge them, but simply continued into the alley to examine the dead.


    It feels like a spider creeping down my spine whenever they walk by, one guard muttered.


    Be quiet, another hissed. Dont you know they hear every word spoken?


    Spiders, I tell you, the first one mumbled.


    Inside the alley, the shadow warrior bent down to inspect the wounds on each of the dead. Hepared where each of them had died, including the first of the soldiers who had climbed under the cart and been killed on the other side. Finally, he also checked the condition of every weapon that had been left behind.


    It did not take long before he was satisfied and, without a word, left again. Some of the Anausa watched with trepidation as he walked down the street, while others did not dare to even look at his back.


    Enough standing around, yelled the senior guardsman brusquely. Clean up this mess! With some grumbling, the soldiers began the instructed work.


    ~~~~


    There was unusual activity in the third district as well. Outside the temple dedicated to Disfara, a pile of broken furniture was growing. The temples had been shut down and their residents imprisoned after the siege, but for the first few months, nothing further had happened. That changed with the arrival of the woman who now emerged from inside the temple. In her hands, she held the sacred statue of Disfara that had adorned the altar; with a powerful throw, she threw it onto the pile, smashing it into pieces.


    Red-d soldiers were assisting her, throwing away tapestries and anything else that could be interpreted as having religious value. When this task was done, the woman took a torch from one of herpanions. Her dress was red much like their clothing, but of a far brighter hue, and its colour changed up the hem subtly, giving the impression of a living fire whenever she moved. It possessed no power to burn, however; only the torch in her hand did, which she cast onto the pile, setting it aze.


    She gazed upon the mes with a smile, as they ate their way through everything that had once been holy in the house of Disfara. The soldiers watched with disinterest, though they suddenly straightened up with nervous expressions. A shape stalked past them; his attention towards the guards was the inverse of theirs towards him.


    The me-robed woman was too captivated by the dance of the fire to notice the shadow warrior until he spoke. Mistress Daena.


    Yes? What did you learn? She did not turn her head to look at him.


    They were killed by arrows. Their weapons were clean. It was a ughter.


    The situation is dire. These people should be in awe of our lord, yet they dare murder his soldiers with impunity. The more she spoke, the more she became incensed; contrary to this, the shadow warrior seemed entirely cid and did not respond. The name of the Godking must be on every tongue. Every knee must bend. Blood must flow. Blood must flow, she repeated and turned around to stalk back into the temple.


    Inside the stripped hall, only the naked altar stone remained. Two soldiers were also present, holding a blue-robed priestess between them. Besides their rough grip on her shoulders, her legs were bound and her hands were tied behind her back. Daena nodded to the soldiers, who ced the silrobe so that her head rested upon the altar stone; after that, they let go and retreated several steps. Before the prisoner could make any movements, Daena took position above her, taking hold of her hair to force her head up and expose the throat. Pulling out a dagger, the fire-d woman cut the prisoners throat, spilling her blood over the altar stone.


    It flowed quickly at first, darkening the white b and spraying onto Daena as well, who did not seem bothered. She gestured for others of the soldiers present to assist her. One brought her a small bowl, with which she trapped some of the blood. Two others ced a statue chiselled from the finest marble onto the crimson altar. It depicted a king in the greatest splendour; eyes without irises sat in a face of eerie beauty underneath a heavy crown.


    Awake, my lord, my king, my god, Daena whispered as she slowly began to pour the blood from the bowl over the statue, dying it dark red. Let end the endless sleep, arise from your throne. Let the mountains part asunder that your magnificence may issue forth. She paused as the final trickle of blood fell. Itnded upon the crown and found a way down the cheek of the statue, finally dripping onto its feet. All for the Godking.


    Around her, the soldiers repeated with varying fervour, All for the Godking!


    From the entrance of the temple, the shadow warrior watched with eyes devoid of expression.


    ~~~~


    The highest circle of the city had seen the most changes. The Order keep was filled to the brim with Anausa soldiers, and their different banners flew from its towers. One was a ck, armoured fist on red, while the other was a red-golden fire on ck. As for the pce, nearly all its inhabitants had been removed, except for some of the servants and a few unlucky people whom the ounders had thrown into the dungeons. The new lord of Tothmor had taken up residence in some of the vacated quarters, using them to run affairs in the upied city.


    The council chamber, where Theodora and Leander had once anxiously waited while the whiterobes were being arrested, had been turned into an office. Philon, the steward of the pce, was one of those who had been allowed to remain that he might assist the man sitting behind the table.


    Rostam hadmanded the Zhayedan cavalry during the battle of Sikyon, and with the conquest of Hthiodpleted, the charge of subjugating Tothmor had been ced in his hands. Tall and with the obvious signs of an experienced warrior upon him, he seemed ill at ease in his administrative role. Behind him, barely noticeable at first, stood a shadow warrior. He did not move or seem to need anything, standing so still that he resembled a statue. The cloth around his head was wrapped in a mask, hiding all but his eyes.


    My lord, the family of Count Lykia requests an audience. Again, the steward said.


    Denied, Rostam muttered, using Mearcspeech; though he had a clear ent, he spoke it otherwise wlessly. Tell them not to expect the count released until he agrees to cooperate.


    Very well, my lord, Philon replied, almost restraining a sigh. He nced nervously at the shadow warrior, who did not seem to take notice. Thetest inspection of the reservoirs isplete. Here is the list. He handed a small book to the ounder, opened in the middle where numbers hadst been added to a page. Rostam did not reply, but simply frowned as he inspected the list.


    Jenaab, a voice called out; it was one of the guards posted by the door. The priestess


    There was not time to finish the sentence before Daena strode through the doors, apanied by her own shadow warrior. Rostam, she spoke curtly with little courtesy.


    Mistress Daena, themander replied, unable to hide the strain in his voice. For what reason do you grace me with your presence?


    Ten of your soldiers were butcheredst night, the me-robed priestess pointed out. What are you doing about it?


    I have doubled the size of the patrols, Rostam exined. My men will not have time for anything other than patrols or sleep, but it is preferable to death.


    That is all? Daena eximed incredulously. You will not punish the city for its insolence against the soldiers of our lord?


    As soon as these rebels are found, they will be dealt with, Rostam dered.


    These filthy heathens spit in the very face of the Godking, she imed.


    As soon as the guilty are found, they will be executed. I cannot punish the entire city, Rostam argued.


    Perhaps you cannot, Daena retorted, but I have been given a holy charge of converting these sphemers and disbelievers by any means necessary.


    You will find none of them here, Rostam said sternly, so I suggest you return to the lower circles, where your work lies.


    Trust me, I shall, the priestess promised with narrowed eyes. Abruptly, she turned on her heel and marched out, followed by her shadow warrior.


    From the corner of the room, Philon emerged; he had not been able to follow the conversation, as it took ce in the ounder speech. Shall we continue, my lord? he asked meekly.


    Rostam gave an inaudible sigh and gestured for Philon to bring the next item to his attention.


    ~~~~


    Late in the day following the nightly ambush, there was suddenmotion in the fifth circle. Anausa soldiers were kicking doors in and dragging people out. They were directed by a few ckboots, who pointed out houses and gave them descriptions; all was supervised by the priestess Daena, apanied by her usual shadow.


    Most of the people seized were men of various ages; the youngest would be around fourteen. A few women were grabbed as well until the number reached twenty. Twice as many as the number of in guards. Satisfied with this first step, Daena nodded to the shadow warrior by her side, who unsheathed his sword.


    Two soldiers held the condemned wretch still, cing his or her head against a barrel. With a hefty swing, the shadow warrior swung his sword. It took him several blows to sever the head each time, but he did not seem to grow tired. His face was hidden, but his eyes seemed full of life as he hacked away savagely.


    Outbursts and cries of indignation were heard, but none dared interfere or even approach the ounders. One after the other, twenty people were decapitated. The blood flowed eagerly to cover the dry, cobbled streets, which could not absorb the red liquid; ity like rain puddles up and down the road.


    The headless bodies were removed by the Anausa soldiers, while the ckboots gathered the heads. Soon after, they adorned the top of the gate between the fifth and the fourth district with their dead eyes gazing upon any who passed near.


    ~~~~


    A few hours before nightfall, a group of men were gathered in one of the many taverns of the lowest circle. Although drinking plenty of the local ale, there was little mirth in their conversation; their spirits were subdued, and they spoke with caution. This described nearly every gathering taking ce in Tothmor since the beginning of the upation, however; nothing about their behaviour, or their garments and appearance for that matter, seemed out of the ordinary.


    Did anyone have trouble getting away? ukos asked quietly. The rest of the men shook their heads. Good. I have another strike in mind.


    Is it really worth the risk?ined another. We killed ten of them, but you said they have at least four thousand men in the city.


    Its a start, Andreas, interjected a third man cheerfully. We keep killing ten every night, and we will be done after  he paused, his head wrinkled in thought.


    Four hundred, ukos said mildly.


    After four hundred nights, he finished his sentence. We can manage that, as long as they keep falling in our traps.


    They wont, Andreas imed gloomily. I just saw another patrol on the way here. They were twenty instead of ten. You can bet theyll take other precautions too.


    Hes right, someone dered. We wont lure twenty men as easily as we did ten.


    Which is why we will change strategy, ukos informed the others.


    About that, the cheerful man spoke, his cheer now gone. I talked to my cousin. The salt-lickers are worried about water, its true. They keep taking measure of the reservoirs. But they are guarded more jealously than a peddlers pepper. My cousin said he saw soldiers everywhere, and we cant storm the ce. Theyll butcher us.


    Several others gave their assent, murmuring their refusal, and ukos was quick to silence them. Quiet. I do not n for us to attack the reservoirs either.


    Best we dont, another agreed. Itll only be our own people that grow thirsty as well. We need water as much as them.


    War demands sacrifice of us all, the brusque de remarked. At any rate, I have a target for us. Philemon, you alone bring your bow tonight. Nikos, bring amp filled with oil. The rest of you will serve as lookouts only, so let your weapons stay in their hiding ces. We meet at the usual ce before heading out, hemanded, and none objected this time.


    Its not long till sunset, Philemon remarked. Soon, the ban on being outside after nightfall would take effect.


    Get home. We meet when the moon passes over the mountain, ukos instructed the others. They all threw some copper petties onto the table for Guy, the tavern owner, to collect before they dispersed out onto the street.


    ~~~~


    It was another cloudy night, which helped to conceal the gathering of five men in the lowest district.


    Did you see the gate? one hissed. Twenty heads!


    Theyre savages, what could we expect, Andreas proimed bleakly.


    But twenty innocent people, chosen at random, the first objected.


    I dont think it was random, Philemon argued. Those ursed ckboots chose the victims. Ill bet your mothers salt they chose people who spoke out against them.


    As the sixth man, ukos joined them. His gaze quickly swept over the others, noticing the bow in Philemons hands and themp in Nikos. In his own, he held a tinderbox. Let us not idle. Follow me.


    He led the group through the streets, choosing those that were smallest and darkest. On asion, they heard the heavy footsteps of ounder boots on patrol, but after the previous nights, the Anausa kept to the wider streets. Because of that, the heathmen reached their destination without hindrance.


    They came close to the outer walls, forcing them to step more carefully. Patrols were more frequent here, both on the strip of opennd between the fortifications and the city itself as well as those guarding the actual walls and towers. Some of the heathmen dispersed to keep watch, while the rest helped each other scale one of the buildings. Thanks to the haphazard way that houses were erected in the fifth district, they had little difficulty finding footing until they reached the rooftop.


    We can only risk the one shot, ukos warned Philemon.


    Then its good you chose me, thetter replied with his usual cheer.


    If you miss and we went through all this for nothing, I swear, Ill stick the next arrow up where you salt yourself, Nikos threatened him.


    I am shooting a target that doesnt move, literally the size of a building, Philemon brushed him off.


    Just dont take too long either, Nikos muttered. As soon as the fire lights up, theyll be on us.


    Enough, ukos uttered. He took a small piece of cloth and tied it around the shaft of the arrow near the tip. After that, he poured out the oil from Nikosmp and finally opened his tinderbox. Picking up the flint, it took several strikes before the cloth ignited. Once it did, however, the oil burned brightly and was clearly visible in the dark night.


    Philemon pulled the bowstring back with the ming arrow. He took aim for just a moment and released. The arrow flew in an arc, leaving a trail of sparks behind that died quickly in the cold night air; this changed once it reached its destination. It was a lean-to, built against the wall. These had initially been cleared away in preparation for the siege months ago, but the ounders had seen fit to rebuild many of them; made from wood with thatched roof, it was an easy way to create quick storage room for items best kept out of the rain. It was also mmable, and the fire quickly grew.


    This particr lean-to was being used to butcher meat and cure it. In itself, no great loss to the ounders. However, other improvised buildings were nearby, also made of wood. Quickly, the guards realised the peril, and many cries of rm were heard. Some began to tear down the endangered shacks, but this was too slow workpared to how swiftly the fire was spreading. They had no choice; nearby water barrels were fetched and thrown onto the burning lean-to, quelling the fire.


    The rebels had long since scattered, except for ukos. He waited until he saw that the ounders were forced to use water from their dwindling stores in order tobat the fire; with a satisfied smile, he turned and fled from the rooftops, following hispanions. In the darkness, none of them noticed the ounder in ck boots watching the scene.

 Chapter 60: Walking in Flames

    Chapter 60: Walking in mes


    Walking in mes


    Tothmor


    The dungeons underneath the Order keep in the first circle were humble in size. They were only intended to keep the rare prisoner of political importance or those guilty of particr crimes such as treason, and usually only for a short time; such people either ended up on the executioners block or in the salt mines. With the ounders in charge, this had changed; the cells were full of not only insurrectionists, whether confirmed or merely suspected, but above all upied by robes of every colour. ck, red, yellow, blue, green, and a single white. Every priest and priestess of the city had been rounded up and imprisoned. Thergest number of robes were brown, however, as they included all the novices from every order, the youngest being seven and the oldest fourteen.


    The torture chamber had at first been in use by the ckboots, extracting information to root out the resistance in the city. This changed with the arrival of the priestess Daena; with her helpers, she had assumedmand of the racks, and those ced upon them were not ordinary citizens or rebels, but men and women in robes.


    They found another, one of the tormentors informed Daena, pointing to where two ckboots dragged in a priestess of Austre. The mistress was busy watching another of her aides turning the mechanisms that stretched the body of the unfortunate ckrobe on the rack. One of those wearing green.


    Those dontst long, dered the torturer turning the wheel, sounding disappointed. Those in white hold out longest. Its a pity there were so few of them.


    Remember your purpose, the me-robed priestess spoke sharply. This is not for your amusement.


    Of course, Mistress Daena, mumbled her helpers.


    In fact, I am dissatisfied by your efforts. Barely any of these filthy sphemers have denounced their false gods. I am inclined to believe you are being too gentle with them.


    Never, Mistress Daena! The torturers looked abhorrent. We do our very best.


    See that you do, Daena told them with a harsh voice, or you may find yourselves taking their ce if you continue to disappoint me.


    Yes, Mistress Daena, they said meekly.


    This one is done for now, she dered, looking at the ckrobe, who had lost consciousness. Throw him back in his cell and let the woman take his ce, she told the others, who hurried to carry out her orders.


    Either because it served some unknown purpose or simply due to some penchant for arranging things by colour, the ounders kept the imprisoned clergy in separate cells based on the dye of their cloth. All the ckrobes, the most numerous of the orders, were thus kept in the same ce. As the guards returned with thetest acolyte to have been tortured, they threw him into one of the cells with little regard, fastened the chain around his ankle to the wall, and left again.


    Brother Nikodemos, whispered Dominic. The former court seer crawled over to where the broken body of his brothery, bereft of its ck robe. Wearing only a ragged undershirt and pants, nothing hid the signs of the severe mistreatment that the acolyte had suffered. He gave a groan as Dominic took hold of him, helping him to a morefortable position.


    Do not worry, Brother, Nikodemos whispered hoarsely with the vaguest of smiles. I did not break.


    My son, my son, Dominic eximed with a thick voice, caressing the hair of his fellow ckrobe. What have they done to you?


    They hurt my body, the acolyte said with bboured breath. They cannot have my spirit. We are all in Rihimils hands, are we not?


    Yes, Brother, the high priest told him. One day, the eagle shalle for us and lead us to the Sapphire City. The gates shall open for you, my son, and Rihimil himself will wee you.


    I remember as a novice, you told me this, Nikodemos recounted with a dreaming smile upon his bruised and battered face. I kept your voice and words in my ear as they tried to break me, as clear as I hear it now.


    The streets are paved with silver, Dominic continued, raising his voice and receiving the attention of his remaining brethren as well. Thest word made those who still had their robes touch the silver dragon upon their chest. The doors are made of gold. A seat of sapphire awaits each of the faithful. There is no night, no travail, no suffering. Only peace.


    Only peace, some of the others muttered.


    With some difficulty, Dominic removed his robe and used it to cover Nikodemos instead. Rihimil, your names are many, he began to pray. Ruler of heavens, we beseech you. Silver dragon, we beseech you. As he spoke, the other priests joined him. Knight in ck, we beseech you. Sword of high, we beseech you. The longer the high priest spoke, the stronger his voice became. In the darkness of the cell, none could see his tears.


    ~~~~


    Nearby in the council chamber, the lord of Tothmor was tending to the affairs of the city as usual. He was not apanied by Philon at present, however, but instead meeting with several ckboots. Behind him stood as always his shadow.


    Jenaab, respectfully, one of the ckboots said, We are spread thin. Not only must we root out these rebels, we must also assist the me mistress in hunting down the worshippers of the false gods. And in between these, several of our numbers are constantly leaving the city to scout the surroundings.


    I will withdraw you from scouting, in that case, Rostam dered.


    That might not be wise, another hastily interjected.


    Yes, Kamran? asked Rostam with raised eyebrows.


    There is still danger from the drnders, the ckboot replied haltingly.


    With winter approaching? The ounder captains voice sounded dubious.


    They have not retreated beyond the border, Kamran began to exin, recovering from his initial stammer. We will need supplies sent to us tost through winter, which will be easy targets for their raids unless we remain vignt.


    That may be, Rostam muttered, now contemtive.


    You cannot spare the Anausa to effectively patrol such vast areas, Kamran continued, speaking at a steadier pace. Beyond the city, just one syag keeping watch is worth a hundred soldiers.


    Enough, the captain raised his hand. Focus your efforts on finding the conspirators in our city. We will resume our search for the sphemers in the city once the rebels have been dealt with.


    That is well, Jenaab, one of the other ckboots expressed, and they all nodded. We will bring the rebels to you soon.


    See that you do, Rostam demanded.


    ~~~~


    Thendscape surrounding Tothmor was dry heath. There were no trees or vegetation except for heather and flowers stubborn enough to grow in such arid conditions. No hills or forests broke the sight for many miles. The only interruption was the asional rock formation; remnants of Mount Tothmor that spread out like discarded leaves. The ckboots used these structures to divide thendscape into areas for scouting.


    That was not the only use the ckboots had for them. One of their dreadedpany had just reached one of the formations, and he walked along the edge of the rock with a searching gaze. At length, he found something that was not natural in origin. It was a series of scratches, made with a tool. Upon closer inspection, it could be surmised that these were runes of a crude variety, the kind that the Mearcians used as numbers.


    The ckboot brushed away some brown vegetation to examine the numbers closely for a moment. After that, he climbed onto the rocks and perched himself, keeping vignce of the surrounding areas.


    As night fell, he abandoned his post, but only to position himself on the ground instead, leaning his back against the rocks. With not even a cloak as shelter against the cold, he wrapped his arms around himself and slept.


    Morning came, though it brought no change other than daylight. Even the rays of the sun were weak and without warmth. Waking up, the ckboot stretched his limbs and took a sip from his sk. Returning to his ce atop the rocks, he resumed gazing in every direction. He kept this up for several hours.


    Past noon, the ounder abandoned his purpose. Jumping down, he returned to where the runes could be found, near the ground and almost invisible. Pulling out his dagger, the ckboot made a few scratches at the end of the row of numbers. The current date in the Mearcian calendar. Sheathing the de again, the ckboot stood up, nced around, and began walking back towards Tothmor.


    ~~~~


    A crowd had gathered in the third district, in the area between the gates. It was one of the only open squares in Tothmor where people could assemble or, in this case, bemanded to assemble. By the edge of the area, small fires burned outside the nearby public houses; usually it was for the sake of allowing people warmth when drinking outside the smoky rooms of the taverns, though it served extra purpose with crowds gathering at the square for the spectacle about to unfold. In the centre, a scaffold had been built, though not to be used for executions. It served simply as a tform from which to address the crowd. A ring of Anausa soldiers surrounded the scaffold, keeping people at bay.


    Upon the wooden construct stood three people. One was a priestess in a green robe, shivering either from the cold or due to her circumstances. Next to her stood a priestess in ming garments, with a shadow warrior behind them both.


    This woman, Daena called out in Mearcspeech, was a sphemer. She worshipped false gods and led you to do the same. She and her ilk grew fat on your offerings while lying to you. She hase to see the light, however. The light of the true god, the Godking. Speak, shemanded, pushing the greenrobe forward, that these people may hear the truth.


    I am a sphemer, the sister of Austre stammered. I worshipped a false god and led others to do the same.


    And now?


    Now I have seen the light, she uttered. I have been cleansed in the blood  Her voice faltered at this point.


    Continue!


    I have been cleansed in the blood of those who do evil, she cried out, and those standing closest could see the traces of this; dried blood stained her dirty clothing.


    What else?


    I profess the name of the Godking as hallowed, she shouted. He is my lord, my king, my god. I long for the day when he shall wake


    Something was flung through the air, followed by several other objects. They looked like stones, thrown at the women on the scaffold and the soldiers on the ground; then they hit their targets and smashed into pieces. A certain smell quickly spread; the projectiles were small jars filled withmp oil.


    From the small fires that had been burning outside the local taverns, a few men picked up burning branches, ran forward, and hurled them through the air over the heads of the crowd.


    The shadow warrior grabbed Daena around the waist and threw himself and her backwards over the edge of the scaffold.


    One torch hit the oil-drenched clothes of the apostate greenrobe, who was quickly engulfed in mes. Same fate happened to several of the nearest Anausa soldiers. Swiftly, screams and the stench of burning flesh spread through the square along with ensuing panic.


    ~~~~


    Your concern is noted, Rostam said with a firm voice.


    I am not concerned, I am furious, Daena all but screamed. They were in the royal quarters, which formerly had belonged to the queen of Hthiod and where the captain currently resided. They sought to burn me alive!


    That is what the fravashi is for, Rostam remarked with a nod towards her silent shadow.


    An assault on me is an assault upon the Godking himself! the priestess continued. Do you expect Shahriyar to ept this insult?


    Those responsible will be caught and punished, Rostam promised.


    Failure to repay this insult against Shahriyar meansplicity, Daena threatened. Take care that I do not decide your blood is needed to purify the new temples to our lord.


    Jenaab Sikandar ced this city under mymand, Rostam defended himself. It is not your ce to question me or his authority.


    If I deem you are guilty of sphemy, I need no further authority, the priestess retorted. Obedience to the Godking goes before all else.


    I am loyal to the very depths of my being, the captain imed.


    Yet you withdrew every syag from my service, Daena spat.


    In order to catch the very rebels that attacked you, he countered.


    They will be returned to me at once, the me mistress demanded. Since your methods have failed, I will employ my own. If you hinder my efforts in any way, I will consider it an obstacle to my holy charge of cleansing this city of sphemy with the appropriate punishment to follow.


    A lengthy moment followed where Rostam was silent, until he lowered his gaze. Very well.


    The priestess turned on her heel and marched out, followed by her shadow.


    Looking up, Rostam directed his sight at his own shadow. It iste. I retired to this chamber in order to sleep.


    The shadow stared at him with its ck-clothed face. The yellow eyes revealed no emotions. I will be watching. The words came monotonously, but still an expression of unease ran across Rostams face. Without further words, the shadow left the chamber, positioning himself outside the doors.

 Chapter 61: Final Prayer

    Chapter 61: Final Prayer


    Final Prayer


    Tothmor


    The following morning, the priestess Daena marched down to the dungeons and issued several briefmands before she disappeared again. This spurred a flurry of action from the soldiers, who marched into one of the cells and began dragging people out.


    What is going on? Dominic demanded to know, getting on his feet.


    Not your concern, one of the guards responded in heavily ented Mearcspeech, adding an insult in the ounder tongue and pushing the priest in the chest so that he fell.


    These men are my brothers, Dominic exined, standing up again. If you are taking them somewhere, take me along.


    You dont want to go, the guardughed coarsely. Besides, we only want robes, not naked men.


    Looking down, the high priest located his robe that was covering Nikodemos like a nket. Help him, Dominic told one of his brethren while nodding towards Nikodemos and retrieving his robe with its unique patterns. Putting it on, the ckrobe turned towards the guard. I am ready.


    The guard gave a shrug, unfastened Dominics chain from the cell, and pushed him along with the other prisoners.


    ~~~~


    At the gate square in the third district, a crowd was once again gathering. After yesterdays attack, people were not especially keen on doing this, but scores of Anausa soldiers were driving anyone on the streets in that direction. Another group of them were busy erecting wooden structures, though they were not scaffolds this time; instead, they were pyres.


    Three soldiers had died or been burned to the point where death seemed likely; now, six ckrobes were being marched onto the square, and one by one, the ounders tied them to the six pyres.


    In the crowd, crying could be seen and heard. There were a few outbursts, but they were solitary and carried little resonance. The sheer number of soldiers presenty like a suppressing fist on the spirits of the spectators.


    In front of the priests stood several of the Anausa with torches along with Daena and her shadow. The priestess was facing the onlookers as she began to speak. The Godking is just. He punishes those who would lead his people astray. The sins of these sphemers are many, and they shall be cleansed in fire. A few cried out in shock, but Daena continued undeterred. For each of his children harmed, the Godking shall exact retribution twofold. There is no escape from his blinding light except under the shadow of his wing. If you do not wish to perish in mes, throw yourself before him and beg for his mercy. Beg though you are undeserving, she proimed, her eyes shining with purpose.


    The me-d priestess turned to face the ckrobes, each of them bound to a pole on the pyre. You, preaching the names of false gods while suckling like leeches upon the people, you are guilty of the greatest offence. Yet even to you the mercy of the Godking extends. Denounce the god you have served, admit he is nothing but an idol made by your own hands! she called out. Profess the hallowed name of the Godking, and you may yet live. Refuse and face the mes, in this life and the next, came the final threat.


    I confess, one of the ckrobes called out. Dont let me burn! he yelled desperately.


    Me too! cried another. Get me down from here!


    And me! Save me!


    Im sorry, forgive me!


    My sins are many, it is true. Dominics words cut through the sound of his brothers voices. I sought power and riches. I do not deserve mercy, yet I will pray for it nheless. The other ckrobes fell silent, as did the onlookers. He threw his head upwards, his eyes seeking the sky. Rihimil! Forgive me my frailty. I ce my spirit in your hands.


    Burn them, Daena yelled to the soldiers holding torches. Burn them all!


    Mistress? asked one of the ounders.


    Burn them all! the priestess shrieked.


    The night hase, Dominic prayed, his voice strong, yet I shall not fear, for your light guides me. Beneath his feet, the wood drenched in oil was set aze. The dark hase, yet I shall not fear, for your strength protects me. He coughed as the smoke began to rise. Though death hase, I shall not fear, he yelled. The eagle brings me to your halls. His fellow ckrobes could be heard crying or screaming.


    The night hase, Dominic repeated, shouting as loudly as his voice would allow, yet I shall not fear, for your light guides me. One of the other priests heard him and joined the prayer. The dark hase, yet I shall not fear, for your strength protects me. One by one, his brothers added their voices to his. Though death hase, I shall not fear. The eagle brings me to your halls.


    They continued until they could no more; until the smoke filled their throats and eyes, the heat wrapped itself around them, the mes licked the cloth and skin of their bodies, until they were silenced forever.


    ~~~~


    At a rooftop overlooking the square stood Kamran the ckboot. He was intently watching what was transpiring below. He had an expression of distaste upon his face as the screams reached him along with the stench. He put a gloved hand in front of his nose. You are back, he suddenly spoke, though he made no movements.


    Behind him, one of his ck-d brethren walked up to stand by his side, having made no sound in his approach. Just now. After waiting at the meeting point, I went to Dariush and spoke about our investigation.


    Javed was not there? Kamran asked, looking at hispanion.


    The other man shook his head. He left no sign either.


    I will go tomorrow and wait. He turned his gaze back on the square.


    Dariush said that we know their informants. There was hesitation. With this, the ckboot said while gesturing towards Daena and the tortured ckrobes, we will have everything we need.


    I would not put a dog to this fate, Kamran spoke, gazing at the pyres that were still burning brightly.


    What do we do?


    I dont know, Arman, he admitted. I wish Javed was here to tell us.


    He is not. There is only you, me, and Dariush to decide. Arman waited a moment before he spoke again. It may very well be us or them.


    Silence reigned for a long moment. I will tell the captain. Let us be done with it.


    ~~~~


    In the first circle, Rostam stood in the tower of its keep. There was barely any trace that it had once been headquarters to the Order; where the seven-pointed star had once been disyed, a ck, armoured fist was shown instead. The keep was bursting at the seams with Anausa soldiers, quartered everywhere avable. There was constant activity as patrols were issued from here to guard both the second and third district; the two lowest circles had outposts of their own for this purpose.


    Rostam was standing in the only room that was otherwise not upied. It was the top floor of the tower, formerly the chambers of the marshal of Hthiod. Apart from sparse personal belongings, the rooms primarily contained maps, correspondence and missives, lists and simr pertaining to the Order. The ounders had sealed the room to preserve its knowledge, eventually carting most of it south for the benefit of Sikandar, suprememander of their forces. In case anything had been overlooked though, the room remained restricted to anyone but Rostam. Lately, ever since the arrival of the priestess Daena, the ounder captain could be found here increasingly often.


    He was standing by the window with its superb view of the city. Down the slopes of Mount Tothmor, the five circles flowed like a frozen waterfall. At such distance, all that was ugly faded away. Even the smoke rising from the gate square in the third district was barely visible.


    Jenaab, Kamran spoke. Rostam turned from the window to look at him. We are ready.


    Proceed, the captainmanded, looking back at the city.


    ~~~~


    News quickly spread across Tothmor of the six ckrobes and how they had met their end; within the hour, it was the only topic of conversation in every tavern and watering hole, including in the lowest circle.


    Burned alive! Such savagery, Andreas shook his head.


    They did it because we did it, Nikos pointed out. Everything we do, they revisit on us. This sparked a murmur of agreement from the others.


    It is necessary, ukos imed harshly. We need to keep pushing these bastards until they break.


    Last time was close, Philemon mumbled. They nearly caught me.


    Maybe we shouldy low for a while, another argued. Theyre on high alert right now.


    You heard same as me, the court seer chose death over surrender, ukos reminded them while his eyes pierced each of hispanions, one after another. Think how many will be inspired by that. Now is the time to press on.


    Im not going to burn on the stake, Andreas dered. Several others assented to this.


    Then avoid capture, ukos simply said. You all have a knife on you. His words were met by silence. Philemon, you said your cousin had news.


    He found out who gave up the greenrobe we were hiding, Philemon told the others. One of our own, a traitor.


    Nikos spat on the ground. Filthy scum.


    Georgios doesnt know the name, but he saw the spy talking to the ckboots and followed him home. He lives in the third circle. Gave me a good description too, Philemon exined.


    Does he live alone? ukos asked.


    Doubt it. Its a small house, but not that small.


    You think the others in the house will fight back? someone questioned.


    Not necessarily, but we cannot leave any witnesses, ukos dered with a grim look.


    What if there are children? Andreas argued.


    Pray there are not, ukos replied. Before further arguments could be made, he continued quickly. We do it tonight before this spy can do any more harm.


    Its in the third circle though, another pointed out. We cant get our weapons through the gates, and we wont be able to go home after its done.


    No need to worry, ukos assured them. I have a sword inside already, just bring your knives. When it is done, we go to The Pork and Pepper and wait there until daybreak.


    Whats that?


    A tavern where I used to work.


    Well have an ale to celebrate, Philemon dered cheerfully.


    We need to go before the gates close, ukos told them. Let us meet at The Pork when we leave here. We stay there until nightfall and get it done.


    The other men nodded with varying enthusiasm and dispersed.


    ~~~~


    Around midnight, half a dozen men were sneaking through the third district. As the streets were wider and better patrolledpared to their usual haunt, their progress was slow with numerous interruptions. It took them more than an hour to reach their destination, a small house touching brick with both its neighbours. It had an unassuming front door to the street, whichy quiet off the main thoroughfares.


    You keep watch in that end of the street, you in the other, ukosmanded quietly, pointing and gesturing. The rest of you with me.


    They scattered ording to purpose. ukos and his followers crossed the street and reached the door. From his pocket, the de took out a small vial while the others looked with curiosity.


    Better stand back, he whispered. You do not want this on you. The other men shied away several steps while ukos poured the contents of the vial onto the door where the handle was attached. The acid did not have much immediate effect on the iron handle, but it greedily corroded its way through the worn wood surrounding it. There was a tense waiting period while the acid did its work; restless, several of the men were unable to stand still. Their heads kept darting back and forth, examining either end of the dark street; all was quiet.


    After a brief while, ukos ced his gloved hands on the door, above and below the handle. He began to push, slowly at first. The wood creaked as it splintered, and he stopped until the sound subsided. Then he made another careful push, paused, and another. It was a slow procedure, and hispanions gritted their teeth, but ukos was unperturbed.


    Finally, the door splintered all the way through and opened up. The handle suddenly fell the ground, no longer being supported, and ukos almost had to dive to catch it, fumbling a bit. The men breathed sighs of relief, and ukos ced it carefully without a sound on the ground. Finally, he drew the short sword by his side while hispanions drew their knives and daggers.


    First room to the right, second floor, Philemon reminded ukos. Thetter nodded and entered the house as the first. As they progressed, the men separated to stand by the different doors, ready to strike should anybody appear.


    ukos continued up the small stairs to the second floor. He cautiously took hold of the door handle, pressed down, and pushed the door open slowly. In theplete darkness, neither he nor anything inside the room could be seen. He took a step forward, using the sword as a cane to feel what was in front of him. In this way, he located the bed in the middle of the room. Raising his de, he thrust down repeatedly. There was no sound, no scream; the steel clearly pierced only cloth and the hay of the mattress, not flesh.


    The shutters of the window in the room were pushed open. This sent a gust of cold wind inside, but it also allowed the moon to send light into the room. It was faint, but enough. ukos could see the other man present, standing by the window. He also held a sword in his hand, and the de glittered in the light.


    You, ukos eximed, raising his sword in front of him.


    Yes, Hugh responded. The son of Count Hubert had a satisfied smile on his face. In here! he yelled. The de is in here, he is the one you want!


    Sounds burst forth everywhere in the small house. ckboots appeared from every room, and the screams of dying heathmen soon followed.


    ukos immediately shut the door behind him and met Hughs advance. With a shorter de than his opponent, he could do little more than defend himself, however. His short reach did not allow him toe close to wound Hugh, who pressed his advantage, and quickly, ukos found himself pushed up against the door. From the other side, someone was trying to force it open.


    Trapped, ukos bent down to grab the mangled nkets on the bed and threw them at Hugh. Thetter raised his sword, catching the fabric while stepping back and outside of ukos reach. For a moment, Hughs vision was obstructed before he sliced through the obstacle. The next thing he saw was ukos jumping past him. The de threw his sword through the open window before jumping onto thetch and following through,nding on the ground beneath.


    He cursed upon impact but got up, locating his sword and grabbing it. Looking up, he saw Hugh staring down at him. Wasting no further time, ukos began to limp away, his stride eventually bing more sure-footed until he could start to run.


    He gave a final nce behind him and dismay overtook his face. A dark shape had jumped after him, seemingly without being slowed down even momentarily; already, his pursuer was running and gaining on him.


    Gritting his teeth and with a pained expression, ukos sprinted forward. Shouts could be heard in the ounder tongue; they came not only behind him but also ahead from the main streets of the third district. Footsteps hounded him.


    Running deeper into the third circle, ukos sought the small alleys and crooked roads. The tall buildings shielded him from the moonlight, and the sharp corners obscured his flight.


    Something whistled past his ear. As it struck the stones of the house ahead, sparks flew; it was a throwing knife. Looking behind him, ukos could see that his initial pursuer had caught up with him, readying another knife. Stopping abruptly, he turned around, brandishing his short sword in an arch.


    His opponent stepped back, out of reach, and drew his own sword. Dropping the throwing knife, he pulled out a long dagger instead to wield in his other hand. Only now could ukos see that his foe was not a ckboot as the ck clothing suggested; he faced a shadow warrior. With a sneer and disdain glowing in his yellow eyes, the shadow lunged out in attack.


    With every aggressive move made against him, ukos was forced to retreat. His de could only parry one of his opponents, meaning he had to constantly evade the other. When he finally went on the offensive, his sword was stopped by its counterpart while the dirk in the shadows other hand gave him a rift. Ignoring this, his fist struck against the shadows face, covered as it was. The cloth fell away to reveal a ghastly sight. It was a face that seemed frozen in anger and with the features of a demon. It took a moment for the moonlight to reveal that it was a mask, made from metal to cover the shadows face. Only the eyes were untouched by mask or cloth.


    Reeling backwards, ukos attempted another aggression, but received only a gash for his troubles. As this repeated a third time, he was slowly beginning to bleed from several wounds.


    ukos returned to purely defensive manoeuvres, and the shadow eagerly took advantage of this,unching a series of strikes. Moving back step by step, the de constantly evaded, but nothing more. Only when the shadow made a deep lunge did he react; as the sword reached the end of its momentum, ukos gripped it with his gloved hand while thrusting forward with his own sword. The unexpected move disrupted the shadows bnce, and his dagger could not avert the assault; cutting through leather, ukos sword embedded itself into the shadows thigh.


    He did not allow himself even the brief moment it would require to recover his sword; letting go of the handle with one hand, his enemys de with the other, ukos turned around empty-handed and sprinted away.


    The shadow pulled the sword from his leg and gave a loud yell, shouting orders to hispatriots. Sheathing his dirk, he wiped some of ukos blood from his sword onto his fingers. He manoeuvred his fingertips under his mask to press the blood against his lips.


    Two ckboots appeared in the alley. Fravashi, one of them spoke, where did he go?


    The shadow breathed in deeply through his nose. Follow me.


    Like a hound on the trail, the shadow led hispanions unerringly through the maze of alleyways and passages until they were back on the main street, where they were met by Hugh standing in front of a tavern.


    How did you know? sneered the shadow in Mearcspeech.


    He used to work here, Hugh nodded towards The Pork and Pepper. After the des were disbanded. It seemed likely he would hide here.


    Why are you still out there? asked Arman, the ckboot, in a derisive tone.


    He is a former de, the young nobleman pointed out. I am not charging into the dark alone.


    He lost his sword, the shadow said in his hoarse voice, touching the torn leather on his thigh; whatever hurt had been caused to his leg, it did not seem to impair him. He is near, I can smell him. Inside!


    Kamran, the other ckboot present, aimed several strong kicks at the door until it broke open, and they all hurried inside, finding themselves in themon room.


    Split up, the shadowmanded.


    A frightened tavern keeper appeared from a side chamber with a savage-looking knife in his hand; behind him beyond the doorway could be seen his frightened family. The shadow punched him in the face, making him drop his weapon, and stepped past him to ransack the room while the wife and children of the owner screamed and pressed together in fear. Hugh went upstairs to the open second floor, Arman went into the small courtyard and stables, and Kamran went to the kitchen.


    It was small and without hiding ces; Kamran barely nced around except to find an oilmp and light it. Further search quickly revealed results; there was a hatch in the ground that led to the storage cer typical of a ce like this. Opening the hatch, the ckboot descended down the stairs into the darkness.


    Along the walls were shelves with many goods, preserved in the cold room. Cured or dried meat hang from the ceiling, a barrel of apples stood by the stairs, and on the ground were severalrge bloodstains. Bending down to examine them, theyy in a straight line; they almost formed an arrow pointing towards the wine barrels. Crouched together behind them, out of sight, ukos sat with his teeth biting into his lower lip; he did not even have a knife to defend himself with, and his paleplexion suggested blood loss.


    The ckboot let his gaze follow the stains along the floor towards the wine. Taking a deep breath, he extinguished hismp, engulfing the basement in darkness. Next, he poured some of themp oil onto the floor to cover the spilled blood; the stark smell of the oil quickly permeated the room. Finally, he turned around and walked back up the stairs, closing the hatch behind him.


    In themon room, the ounders and their ally gathered after their search. Nothing, said Hugh. I checked everywhere, he was not there.


    The gate to the courtyard was open, Arman told the others. I think he entered that way, but I saw no sign of him.


    Or that is how he left, Kamran suggested. He came through here to make us lose track of him, knowing he could escape out the back.


    The shadow gave a growl. I was sure I had his scent. With me, he ordered them and left speedily, going through the courtyard and its gate to enter the streets of the district again.


    In the cer, ukos remained crouched. His breathing wasboured, and despite the cold, beads of sweat were forming on his brow. Hispanions were dead or captured, most likely, and he had nothing to defend himself with. The night hase, yet I shall not fear, for your light guides me, he mumbled, his prayer barely audible.

 Chapter 62: From Copper to Crown

    Chapter 62: From Copper to Crown


    From Copper to Crown


    Western Hthiod


    Many miles west of Tothmory the encampment of the Order. It was located close to the border to Adalrik and the jarldom of Ingmond, near one of the tributaries of the river Sureste to ensure fresh water. Serving as winter quarters for the army, the camp was well situated on elevated terrain and fortified on all sides by palisades. The openndscape meant that the sentinels had an unobstructed view of their surroundings, and sharp vigil was kept; the Order army counted only two thousand soldiers and three hundred knights, and they were outnumbered by nearly five times as many ounders in all of Hthiod.


    Inside the defences, the camp wasid out in the typical disciplined fashion of the Order. Themanders tentsy one in each half of the camp as was the custom, and all the tents belonging to the soldiers and knights were ced in even rows, allowing quick movement down the paths and preventing disorder. One section of the camp served as rudimentary stables for the many horses of the army as well as a small number of cattle, and another had a collection of workmen. There were several smiths to maintain both weapons and armour but also to shoe the horses, rece tent pegs and nails, butchers and bakers to keep the soldiers fed, tanners to make leather and cobblers to turn it into boots, and many other upations. In short, the camp was a small town of its own, nearly self-sufficient in every way except one; no women were allowed inside the palisades.


    From the heath, appearing from the east, a man came walking. He was of ordinary height, d in a travellers cape and hat; a staff in his hand gave him support as he strode forward. He was still more than thirty paces from the gate, but well within the range of arrows, when the guards hailed him.


    Who goes there?


    Just a traveller, came the reply. I bring news of the ounders that I thought your captains might wish to hear.


    The guard who had spoken looked at hisrade. You ever heard of that before?


    The other shrugged. Got to be a first time for everything.


    Can we let him in though? What if hes a spy?


    Then I reckon theyll hang him.


    Right, the first guard nodded contemtively. So thats more his problem than ours.


    Id wager so.


    What kind of news? the sentinel shouted over the palisade.


    A column of ounder soldiers travelling to Tothmor, bringing supplies. An obvious target, the traveller exined, though if we wait too long, they will reach the safety of Tothmor before you can act.


    You got any weapons on you?


    A sword, that is all.


    This is really unusual, the first guard remarked to the other. Ive never had this happen before. Should we let him in? If hes telling the truth.


    Let the lieutenants thanes decide, the second guard rmended.


    Right, right, make it their problem. Open the gate, he called down. You can enter, he shouted to the wayfarer, but any sign of trouble, youre done for.


    Much obliged, Godfrey muttered and walked forward to enter the Order camp.


    ~~~~


    One of therger tents in the southern part of the camp belonged to the first lieutenant. Apart from the typical necessities that a knight and his sergeant might require on campaign, it contained a few additions. Curiously, the customary map with troop cements was in this tent rather than the one belonging to the captain of the army. There were also a few stools and other pieces of primitive furniture. Baldwin and Matthew, squire and sergeant to themanders, respectively, were using it while ying chess; Egil, apprentice to the Kings Quill, was watching and asionallymenting on the game.


    It does not matter how many cunning ns you make, Brand, dered the captain. He was in his early thirties, average of height and appearance. His expression revealed little about him, but his voice was calm and hinted of a man self-assured and poised. You will not be able to lure the ounders into open battle while wintersts. And after that, we will need reinforcements to stand a chance against them.


    You wound me, William, with your quick dismissal, replied the lieutenant. He was much taller than his superior, though this was less obvious as they were both sitting down. There was a tone of gentle mocking in his voice apanied by a sardonic smile on his face. If we appear vulnerable, would they not march out to seize the opportunity and destroy us?


    We would not only appear vulnerable, William retorted brusquely, that would be the very truth. If we move against Lakon, even if we should miraculously take the city, an army twice our size would march against us from Tothmor. Whether on open field or through siege, they would destroy us.


    We need to act, Brand imed. Any forces they have withdrawn beyond the Langstan will surely return as soon as it is spring. If our situation is pressed now, it will be doubly so by that time.


    I will grant that we must assume their armies to grow in size, the captain admitted. All the more reason we must repeat our requests for reinforcements.


    From where? asked the lieutenant. The Order has no further soldiers to spare and no lord marshal to expand our numbers. The jarls of Adalrik? They are too busy fighting each other. We are a stones throw from Ingmond, but we have not received the least aid from there.


    Because the jarl hates you, squeaked Matthew from the other end of the tent, looking up from his game of chess.


    Thank you, Matthew, that was necessary to point out, Brand muttered, and his sergeant looked away. He was about to speak again whenmotion outside the tent caught the attention of everyone.


    ~~~~


    Sometimes, an Ordermander would surround himself with a personal retinue of the best warriors in his army; in battle, they served both to guard him and to act as a final resort, thest troops to send into the fight should it be going ill. In this way, they fulfilled much the same purpose as the thanes of a nobleman. While having such a retinue typically applied to the captain of an Order army, in this case it was the first lieutenant who always surrounded himself with a select few warriors when riding out to survey the area or the few times he had personally engaged in skirmishes with ounder patrols; when in camp, they were also the only ones to guard his tent. Because of this, themon soldiers referred to the lieutenants attendants as his thanes, and during the day, these warriors could always be found circled around a fire outside their masters tent. One among their number stood out, however, being armed not with de or bow but rather a lute.


    Himils balls, cant you y something else, eximed Geberic. The former sergeant to the jarl of Theodstan put down the knife and whetstone in his hands. Listening to that bloody Sorrow is giving me a headache.


    Its the only one I know well, Troy defended himself. But I have been practising another. He strummed his instrument a few times.


    I like it, Nichs interjected. Have you ever yed it for Sir Adalbrand? He is dragonborn too, he might enjoy it.


    I hadnt thought about it, the bard exined. To be honest, I thought more would be happening here. There would be battles and that sort.


    Wee to war, Gebericughed coarsely. It is one month of waiting for every day of fighting.


    Not always during a siege, Troy mumbled, which ended theughter.


    Was it a bad one? asked Quentin. The grim-faced archer sat inspecting the fletching of his arrows, but he looked up as he asked the question.


    Its the only siege I have experienced, Troy began to say. I cantpare. It seemed bad to me. Too bad that I want to sing about it.


    Dont worry, Geberic told him with an encouraging tone of voice. When ites to war, Lord Adalbrand is one of those people you give a copper petty, hell turn it into a gold crown.


    Wouldnt mind some coin, Troy spoke with a half-hearted grin. Even if theres little to spend it on here.


    Dont you have a king for a patron? Nichs asked. You wont find sympathy here for your empty purse.


    I suppose some call him king, the bard admitted reluctantly. But if you knew Leander, youd cry rivers of tears for my plight.


    ying that lute makes me cry, Geberic muttered, elicitingughter.


    If you need coin, just promise for a few petties you wont y, Quentin snorted. Youll be the only bard in the realms paid not to y.


    If this is how I am appreciated, Troy retorted with an offended expression, I am sure there are plenty of other campfires where they would be grateful for my presence. He made as if to stand up and leave.


    Peace, peace, Geberic told him. y that new song you have been practising, and Ill make a share of my meal tonight for you.


    Mollified, Troy prepared his lute, but he did not have time to begin before he was interrupted. One of the sentinels posted at the gate appeared, apanied by a traveller. As everyone looked at the neers, Troys eyes widened. You! Geoffrey!


    You know this fellow? asked the guard. He came up to camp and imed he had important information for themander.


    With all eyes turned towards him, Troys reply came haltingly. Kind of. We met in Tothmor. I mean, hes not a bad sort.


    If I can be allowed to speak with your captain, I can also exin my presence and purpose here, Godfrey told them.


    Were not in the habit of letting anyone just walk up and get entrance, Geberic dered, standing up.


    In any case, thats for you to decide. Ive done my part, the guard from the gate told them and turned around abruptly, walking away.


    I bring valuable intelligence about the ounders, Godfrey imed. Your captain will want to know.


    Ill be the judge of that, Geberic retorted with a brusque voice. He stood, his eyes ncing between the traveller and the other men. You got any weapons on you?


    My sword, Godfrey replied and unbuckled his belt, extending it towards the other man.


    Reaching to take hold of belt and scabbard, Geberic nodded slowly. Fine. Nichs, tell the lieutenant. The archer got up and entered the tent first. You enter next, Geberic told Godfrey. I warn you. Take one step too close to the lieutenant or captain, and Ill gut you like a fish.


    Consider me warned, Godfrey smiled and stepped inside the tent, followed closely by Geberic.


    Once inside, Godfreys eyes quickly swept across those present, from the boys in one end to the men in the other. His face remained expressionless as his gaze passed over Egil, and he turned his attention towards the knight, inclining his head in greeting.


    This man ims to have information for you, milord, Geberic told them.


    And who might you be? asked Brand, frowning.


    My name is Godfrey, came the response. Just an ordinary traveller.


    Travelling innds held by the enemy, swarming with their troops, William pointed out, leaning forward.


    The reason why I snuck out of Lakon and why I am travelling west, Godfrey exined. Before I left, however, I saw something of great interest. The ounders were preparing a supply train for Tothmor. Arms, provisions, great barrels of water, and what else the city might need.


    How do you know it was headed for Tothmor? asked William sharply.


    Where else would they send it? Godfrey replied.


    How long ago? Brands eyes were no longer on the traveller but on the map.


    I left Lakon two days ago, as did the supply train.


    You reached our camp in two days from Lakon? William questioned with raised eyebrows.


    I assumed time was of the essence.


    How did you know where to find our camp? William asked next.


    It is no secret that there is an Order army in Hthiod. I walked in the direction of the river, knowing you would want to camp near fresh water, Godfrey borated, until I saw your camp.


    What manner of guard do they travel with? Brand asked.


    About a hundred men on foot.


    The lieutenants attention had been on the map, his brow furrowed in thought, but now he raised his head in sharp movement. We appreciate your news. For now, you will have to remain in our camp under restraints until we can confirm you are reliable.


    I expected nothing else, Godfrey assented. I only ask you take good care of my sword meanwhile. It is my most valued possession.


    Brand did not reply other than nodding at Geberic, who ced Godfreys belt and scabbard inside the tent. ce him under lock, he ordered.


    Though show him courtesy, William added. He is not a criminal.


    Geberic nodded and took hold of Godfrey, escorting him out.


    We should dispatch scouts at once to track this convoy down, Brand pointed out, to which his captain nodded.


    Baldwin, see to it, William told his squire, whoplied and left the tent. If this intelligence is solid? he continued, looking at Brand.


    I will take fifty knights and ride out tomorrow, the lieutenant dered. Meet the scouts and destroy the train.


    Ill make sure our horses and equipment is ready, Matthew interjected.


    Just mine, Brand corrected him. You stay behind in camp.


    If it is a trap? William asked.


    If any force too great for fifty knights to handle is this close to our camp, our patrols would have discovered them by now, Brand said calmly. Just keep that traveller safely under watch. Something about him seemed suspicious. A guarded behaviour, the lieutenant frowned. If he is a spy for the ounders, we do not want him returning to them with urate knowledge of our numbers. In the other side of the tent, Egil said nothing.


    ~~~~


    Some activity ensued in the camp, as scouts quickly readied themselves and rode out while the chosen knights prepared to do the same the next day. Most sections of the encampment were quiet with only the usual chores and duties being carried out, though. In the evening, the butcher found himself in unusualpany; he was busy hacking a pig into pieces when he looked up and ceased any movement. Sir, he stammered upon seeing Brand standing in his tent.


    The lieutenant wrinkled his nose at the overpowering smell of dead animals. I have a task for you.


    Of course, sir, the butcher was quick to reply.


    I need some twenty pieces of meat, each no bigger than a thumb nail, Brand exined.


    Your pardon?


    Twenty pieces, size of a thumb nail. I do not care what animal they are from, but it must not be cured. Surely this is within your capabilities? Brand nced around the tent at the various bs of meat.


    Of course, sir, the butcher responded with a confused look.


    Put the pieces in a small leather bag once you have chopped them, the knight continued his instructions. Remember, they must not be cured in any way. Do not let the night frost touch them either. I shall require them tomorrow morning.


    Very good, sir, the butcher said, but it will start to rot very soon.


    I expect as much, Brand simply replied and left.

 Chapter 63: The Weapons of War

    Chapter 63: The Weapons of War


    The Weapons of War


    Western Hthiod


    Early the next day, Brand led apany of knights and attendants out of camp, a hundred men in all. They rode at a steady pace, raising heads and questions as to their purpose, though no answers were to be had. A few spected on a possible connection with the new prisoner kept isted in a tent, but since the soldiers were not allowed to speak with prisoners as a general rule, no information could be found there either.


    What do you say to tell a woman shes beautiful? asked Nichs. He was inside the tent he shared with most of the lieutenants men, as they were known.


    You just used the words, Quentin growled. Unless she is deaf, shell get your meaning. If she is deaf, other words wont help you much.


    I wasnt asking you, Nichs muttered, looking at Troy.


    You use a picture, the bard told him. One made out words. You paint that picture in her inner eye andpare her to it, and shell see what you mean.


    I dont follow, the archer frowned.


    Think of something thats beautiful, like a flower, Troy exined. You tell her she is fairer than a field of flowers, and all the blossoms she has ever seen wille into mind, and shell know what you mean.


    Thats real clever, Nichs nodded thoughtfully. Youre crafty. Thepliment was epted with a nod and a smile.


    Its a shame you dont know Song of Sigvard, Egil said. I would like to hear it on solstice.


    s, my audience tends to be found in taverns rather than great halls. A bad I can handle, Troy spoke regretfully. Less so the high songs.


    Isnt there a song about Erhard? asked the young scribe.


    Yes. On the Field of Blue, its called, Quentin replied, checking his bowstrings for any frayed threads.


    Do you know it? Egil asked Troy with shining eyes.


    I think I learned it once, the bard mumbled. Maybe tonight. Ill need to remind myself how it is yed his voice trailed off. Meanwhile, Egil had gathered some of his writing tools, and as the other men busied themselves, he left the tent.


    The young apprentice shivered in the cold and pulled his hands as much inside the sleeves of his robe as he could without dropping quill, ink, and parchment. Walking at a brisk pace, he traversed the camp until he reached the tent that had been drafted into service as a primitive prison.


    What you want? asked the soldier standing guard brusquely.


    The lieutenant told me to ask some questions to the prisoner and write them down, Egil replied, holding up the utensils in his hands.


    Lieutenant told you? the guard questioned, scratching his beard. Egil gave a nod. Get to it then.


    Egil nodded again and walked past, entering the tent. Inside, he found arge, wooden pole hammered into the ground. Around it was a metal ring, and sitting on the ground, chained to that ring, was Godfrey. I wondered if you recognised me, the prisoner smiled.


    Hard to forget, Egil muttered. Thanks to you, I was attacked by murderers and brigands, and I met  I met Elves, he whispered almost feverishly.


    Godfrey leaned back a little. He told you? I did not expect that.


    He had to, the young scribe exined. I had to hide in the Alfskog to avoid being killed by muggers. Egil paused for a moment. How do you know an Elf? Why is lfwine helping you? Whats all this about?


    I have no answers for you, Godfrey told him. But since you are here, I have questions of my own.


    Ill answer yours if you answer mine, Egil replied with a cunning look.


    No. At Godfreys reply, disappointment reced cunningness. When Quill made you his apprentice, he bound you to his service. That includes serving me. I believe that has been made obvious.


    Fine, Egil pouted.


    First, why are you here?


    Sir Adalbrand asked Master Quill to let me join him. He wanted to have this campaign recorded by a reliable witness.


    The lieutenant is Quills friend, Godfreymented with dawning realisation on his face. I thought he looked familiar.


    You know him?


    I have seen him before, that is all. Who is the captain?


    Sir William.


    Is he a goodmander? How would you judge him?


    They say he is unbeatable inbat, Egil exined. He seems honourable and trustworthy. So say all the men.


    He will need more than that as long as the ounders have five times his numbers, Godfrey remarked dryly. Is he a capablemander in the field?


    Egil hesitated. I dont think Im supposed to talk about such things. I dont know anything about you.


    You know two of my friends, Godfrey told him. Quill and the Highfather. Judge me by mypany. Would you doubt either of them?


    I suppose not, Egil admitted reluctantly.


    I walk in shadows, boy. Secrets keep me safe. But if you trust me, Egil, I will return the favour. You are in a camp of war, and you might soon find yourself in danger again. Think of whom I summonedst to protect you on your journey to the hignds. Trust me, and I will protect you in the future, Godfrey promised in a soothing voice.


    As you say, Egil acquiesced.


    Now. Sir William, how is he as a captain?


    He is suitable, I suppose, though Sir Adalbrand is the true leader. When winter is over and battle can be expected, itll be himmanding the army, Egil exined.


    Strange. He is the lieutenant and many years younger, is he not? He seems barely old enough to be a knight.


    He is very young, Egil admitted, but he has proven himself. He defeated the Isarn rebels on the field twice, even against Sir Athelstan.


    That was him? Godfrey raised his eyebrows. I have heard stories of what happened in Adalrik, but few details.


    He crossed the Weolcans with an army, Egil borated. He took Middanhal from the rebels by surprise and defeated both Jarl Isarn and his brother.


    Maybe the ounders need to outnumber him by more than five times, Godfrey jested.


    Not all are fond of him, though, Egil confided, lowering his voice. They say Jarl Ingmond hates him, and because of that, we cannot have winter quarters in Ingmond but have to stay in this camp instead.


    How do the soldiers feel about him?


    The knights are spiteful towards him, I think, Egil considered. They dont like being under hismand. Half the footmen, especially those who are new, seem to dread or dislike him intensely.


    For what reason?


    He likes to make inspections, especially at night. Anyone beingx in his duties or on post gets flogged. And as mentioned, they aren''t happy that we are quartered in camp instead of a city in Ingmond.


    Half the men feel this way? What of the rest?


    They worship him, Egil said after a moment. Especially those that fought with him the longest in Adalrik. Theyd assault the gates of Hel if he told them to.


    Godfreys eyes examined Egil. What do you think of him, this Adalbrand?


    The boy frowned before he gave his answer. I feel uneasy knowing someone has such power over the hearts of men. Who knows what he will use it for?


    Indeed, Godfrey assented, leaning back and closing his eyes. How did they react to the news I brought them? he asked, looking at Egil again.


    Sir Adalbrand rode out this morning with a force of knights. Egil hesitated a little. What will happen now? What do you n to do?


    Wait here for his return, Godfrey smiled, rattling his chain.


    ~~~~


    The Order army had not only chosen its camp from avability of fresh water and defensive features; if one were to trace a direct line between Lakon and Tothmor, the camp was not far from such an imaginary line. The ounders were aware of the Order presence to some degree since their outriders shed with their Mearcian counterparts from time to time. Even if they did not know the precise location, caution made their convoys and contingents march in a wide semicircle bent eastwards, keeping distance to the Order army. Usually, this coupled with their ckboots restricting the range and movements of the Order scouts kept their supply trains hidden from detection.


    When the scouts already knew such a train was on the move, however, discovery was only a matter of time. Riding swiftly, they soon found revealing tracks and could return with certain knowledge to Brand, waiting in the empty wastnd with his knights and their squires and sergeants; of his personal retinue, he had brought Geberic and Matthew. As soon as information reached the restless Order warriors, they acted upon it. A force of a hundred riders could not be concealed long in the emptynd of western Hthiod, and the garrisons from either Lakon or Tothmor were sure to react eventually.


    Like a snake coiled through thendscape, the supply train moved through the heath. The terrain was a little rough, but generally t, allowing their wagons to move. There were about ten of them in total, and each had several soldiers sitting on it or surrounding it; all in all, each wagon had an escort of about ten warriors.


    Out in the open, the Anausa soldiers were vignt and tense; they spotted Brandspany as soon as it was within range.


    Half charge, Brandmanded. Squires and sergeants, ride down stragglers. Geberic, with me. The order was spread down the line. Leaving their attendants behind, the knights alone moved their horses to stand side by side and began a slow trot. Ahead, the ounders were desperately gathering, trying to form lines with their spears. In a disy of discipline and horsemanship, the knights spurred their horses to a gallop to close the distance, every man keeping perfect pace.


    With a deafening sound, the longer spears of the Mearcian knights struck into shields, cloth, mail, leather, and flesh. Nearly half the ounders died where they stood, not even inflicting a scratch in return. Chaos erupted as both lines disintegrated; most knights had released their spears as soon as they struck target and drawn swords instead, or they were using the hooves of their war steeds to trample their enemy.


    The ounders shorter spears had served them ill in the first sh, but now they struck back, aiming for the knights horses. A few fell, but the knights had the upper hand in every way, and they cut the ounders down like wheat before the scythe. Some attempted to use the wagons to buy themselves reprieve, but it was short-lived; within moments, the Mearcians outnumbered the Anausa and surrounded those still fighting. About a score of the red-robed warriors dropped their weapons and bolted; some ran north towards Tothmor, some south towards Lakon. The squires and sergeants caught up with all of them, leaving not a single enemy to survive.


    In practical terms, the skirmish was over shortly after it began. Some of the wounded ounders tried to continue fighting and were promptly dealt a deathblow. The remainder, too wounded to move or too smart to draw attention, were left alone; it was against the Knights Codex to kill an enemy who could not defend himself, and if any were taken prisoner, they were to be shown care and courtesy. Since it was not feasible to drag any of the ounders from this fight back to camp as prisoners, the knights simply ignored them and thereby avoided any responsibility for them.


    Instead, the Mearcians turned their attention towards the wagons. Some of them contained cloth, such as uniforms, tents, clothing, and the like. One wagon had barrels of arrows, a few had food supplies, and three containedrge barrels of water.


    Sir Ewind, Brand shouted, and one of the knights approached with a grin. I will have Geberic deal with the water barrels. See to it that the rest of the supplies are destroyed as best we can.


    Consider it done, the knight saluted with a fist to his chest and turned around to bark some orders.


    The lieutenant meanwhile turned towards Geberic. Only half of them, Brand instructed him quietly.


    Understood, milord, Geberic smiled, pulling a hatchet out of his saddlebag. He began striking the water barrels with the axe, breaking the wood to let the contents pour out. However, whereas half of them received vigorous strikes to leave them all but destroyed, Geberic only inflicted minor damage on the other half. A little of the water spilled, but most remained.


    Pulling a bag from his own saddle and opening it, Brands expression became displeased as the smell of rotting flesh rose into the air. Working quietly, Brand distributed the pieces of spoiled meat to each of the water barrels still intact, throwing the bag away when done.


    Let us away, Brand told hispanion. At the other end of the wagon train, the knights had set fire to supplies and carts with rising smoke that was sure to attract attention. The squires and sergeants who had pursued the fleeing ounders were returning by now.


    Into the saddle, Geberic yelled to the knights. Were back to camp! Moments after, the knights and attendants were riding west, leaving only gruesome remains for the ounders to find.


    ~~~~


    With firewood being scarce, the fires around the Order camp were of pitiful size, and the soldiers typically sat huddled close around them. This evening was an exception; Since Geberic and Matthew had gone with Brand, the remaining of the lieutenants men had more space than usual. Troy was strumming his lute as always, while others were preparing food.


    Just one more time, Nichs pleaded. He shook a letter in his hand at Egil.


    You know how to read, the young scribe protested. Besides, I read it for you twice the other day.


    It takes me too long, Nichsined. I hack through the words. When you read, its like watching an arrow take flight through the air, graceful and unstoppable.


    Watch out, Troy, you havepetition, Quentinughed coarsely.


    Hell need to refine his verse before I feel threatened, Troy grinned.


    Egil, please, Nichs reiterated his prayer, shaking the letter once more.


    Fine, Egil grumbled and snatched the paper. Squinting his eyes and turning so that the light of the fire could illuminate the words, he began reading. <em>Dearest Nichs,</em> his voice rung out clear. <em>I was happy to receive yourtest letter. I am d if nothing of note is happening in camp. If I had my wish, you would spend the whole campaign in camp and then return to Middanhal without a scratch on you.</em>


    Typical women, Quentin scoffed, though he had ceased stirring the pot boiling over the fire, listening to Egil reading instead. Nichs did not seem to notice Quentins remark; his face showed his rapture at every word spoken by the scribe.


    <em>There is not much to tell here either. The city seems calm after all the awful events earlier this year, and I hope it continues that way. I have prayed to Idisea for a peaceful winter solstice, just as I pray to Rihimil for your safety. Pa has promised to ughter the sow, so we will have solstice ham with honey.</em>


    Ham, Troy whined with the expression of a starving dog.


    Youre getting soup, and youll be thankful for it, Quentin scowled at the bard.


    <em>Old Hildas cough has worsened. I am worried the raven will find here the Raven Days. I make her some tea to help every chance I get, but yesterday I found it cold in the cup. She had forgotten to drink it. I told Pa we should leave something at Idiseas shrine to spare Hilda another winter, but he said we had enough worries of our own to spend silver on an old neighbour whose time hade. I told him that yes, Hilda is our old neighbour and has been our neighbour since I was born, and she was always kind to me.</em>


    Every time you read that letter, I wonder if Hilda is d in raven feathers yet, Quentin said coarsely. Nichs made a shushing sound, still staring into the fire.


    <em>That did not convince Pa, though, so I spent my own coin. I know you would approve. You are so kind yourself. Write back when you can. Yours faithfully, Ellen.</em>


    Nichs blinked a few times, turning to look at Egil. Thanks.


    Youre wee, Egil told him, handing the letter back.


    Maybe tomorrow you would write a reply for me? the Hthian asked slyly.


    Yesterday Troy, tomorrow you, Egilined. You realise that you would have to pay good silver to a scribe if we were in town for this service?


    Were in camp, though, Nichs pointed out, making hispanionsugh.


    Dont be so stingy, Quentin admonished Egil. We let you share in our food, so you dont have to cook any yourself.


    Fine, Egil grumbled.


    Food! came Matthews voice as he found a ce to sit by the fire.


    Youre back, Troy pointed out. How did it go?


    It went well, Matthew replied. Whens the food ready?


    In a little while, Quentin told him brusquely. Wheres your master?


    He had to talk with the captain, the young sergeant exined.


    Isnt it your duty to be by his side at all times? Quentin questioned him, beginning to pour soup for the others.


    He told me I wasnt needed, Matthew mumbled defensively.


    Let the boy have some rest, Nichs interceded on his behalf. Werent you going to y something new, Troy?


    I was, but I only remember the tune, not the words, the bard admitted.


    y it anyway, Quentin told him, finishing his duty as a cook.


    Yes, y it, said Matthew.


    Troy nodded with a gracious smile and began plucking the strings of his instrument. The melody came in waves, washing over them, and to everyones surprise, a voice soon apanied the tune.


    Sing to us, songs of old, valours me burning bright, Quentin sung with a deep voice as the others stared with varying expressions. Sing on the Field of Blue, night so dark turned to light. Soon the others were pping along, their hands andughter performing as the final instruments alongside Quentins voice and Troys lute.


    ~~~~


    While his men tended to their stomachs, Brand had gone to Williams tent. Leaving Geberic outside, he gained admittance with ease, as the guards outside would not hinder the lieutenant of the army.


    What happened? asked William, closing the book he had been reading. What did you find?


    Brand cast a look at Baldwin. I need to speak with you privately.


    William gave a frown but nodded at his squire, who left the tent. What is amiss?


    The report given to us by the traveller was urate, Brand informed him, sitting down. We found the supply train and dealt with it.


    What was it carrying?


    Provisions, arms, lots of water. They are getting thirsty in Tothmor.


    It will rain sooner orter, William contemted. Lack of water will not trouble them indefinitely.


    I agree, Brand said, his voice growing hesitant, which is why we should act soon. Prepare the men for a surprise assault on Tothmor.


    William sat up straight, frowning. Against a garrison twice our size?


    I only destroyed about half the water that the train was bringing to Tothmor. The ounders will have recovered the rest by now. It should reach the city tomorrow, Brand exined.


    Why did you leave any of the water intact?


    Because once the ounders drink it, they will get sick. Their garrison will be depleted of men able to fight, and we can take the city by storm, Brand told his captain, speaking slowly.


    It took a moment before Williams frown turned to a scowl. What did you do?


    What was necessary.


    You poisoned the water. Williams voice trembled slightly.


    Giving us an opportunity to retake the city with minimal losses, Brand argued.


    We are knights! William almost bellowed, rising up quickly to pace around the tent. We follow the Codex! We fight with honour!


    Brand leaned back in his seat. No prisoners have been mistreated, no enemies have been denied quarter. We will take the city in battle.


    By dishonourable means, William fumed.


    If a traitor opened the gates for us, would you disagree with taking advantage of such an opportunity? Brand asked. When Sir Richard and I assaulted Middanhal at night, we took the city through stealth and surprise, and it helped to bring our war to a swift conclusion.


    This is different! William eximed, constantly moving about inside the small space of the tent. Killing through poison is a womans weapon, unworthy of a knight.


    I doubt many, if any, will die, Brand retorted, remaining calmly seated. They will be weak, unable to fight.


    What of our own citizens in Tothmor? William countered. Your ploy may spread disease among them. Even if by some miracle this does not im any of their lives, you have tainted the water supply. People in Tothmor will face death by thirst even if we liberate the city.


    How many would die from thirst or starvation if we besieged the city? Brand replied, his voice growing harsh. We have already been denying the ounders all the supplies we could intercept. How is it noble to make the city suffer through siege and skirmish, yet viinous to do so in the manner I have done, which will allow us to free the city in days rather than months?


    William was silent for a moment, ceasing his pacing. We fight our enemies with sword in hand, giving them a chance to defend themselves. To surrender if need be. As they give us the same terms. What will war be if we dare not trust the water we drink? How soon will we ughter enemies and innocents alike?


    War has already be this, Brand argued. Both sides use spies. We have guards outside our tents to protect against hidden killers in the night.


    It can be much worse, the captain muttered darkly. I was your age when I fought in the hignds. I witnessed what soldiers of the Order did, fighting an enemy with gruesome tactics, justified by that enemys own methods. He turned to stare at Brand. Your own father died seeking to stop this. I never thought I would find his son defending such tactics.


    What I have done, Brand spoke with a grim voice, will hurt a few, but save hundreds of our soldiers and remove the yoke of the ounders from Tothmor. Is that not a bargain worth making?


    I do not know. William sank into his seat. The price we pay for this could be much higher than what you estimate.


    Brand licked his lips. Were you present? When my father died.


    I was not. It happened in camp while I was scouting the terrain with Sir Athelstan.


    He does not deserve that title anymore, Brand dered harshly.


    You are quick to cast judgement given your own actions, William swiftly retorted.


    I have done nothing against the Knights Codex, the lieutenant imed. Even if you disagree, this act is upon me, not you. You have been presented with an opportunity to deal a devastating blow to our enemy. As captain, what is your duty?


    William exhaled slowly. I will free my city. Whatever sin wemit, let it be my burden to bear.


    Good, Brand dered, standing up. We should spend tomorrow making preparations and march out the day after. I will see to the arrangements.


    I am sure you will, William muttered. Another matter. The traveller proved good to his word. There is no need to keep him imprisoned.


    Just to be cautious, I rmend we keep him under guard until we have departed for Tothmor, Brand advised. If this was all a ploy to gain our trust, we do not want him warning the ounders. Once we have marched out, however, he may be set free.


    Very well, William assented absent-mindedly.


    Captain. Brand nodded in farewell, striding out of the tent. He gave a brief nod to Baldwin as well, who had been waiting outside.


    Walking away, the lieutenant was joined by Geberic as they moved towards their own part of camp. Did it work?


    We march out the day after tomorrow, the knight told his attendant. We have a lot of preparations ahead of us. Before I forget, Brand added, the traveller who brought us news of the supply train.


    What about him, milord?


    Arrange for him to be released after we have marched out, but he is under orders to remain in camp. Make sure he is watched. If he attempts to leave camp, it can only be to warn the ounders, in which case he is to be killed immediately.


    Very well, milord.

 Chapter 64: Pawns

    Chapter 64: Pawns


    Pawns


    Western Hthiod


    The day after the skirmish saw the Order camp transformed from drowsy winter quartering to frantic battle preparing. Some tasks were almost superfluous; armour and arms were already polished, oiled and in good condition, as tending to such tasks had been one of the only ways to keep busy while wintering. Other matters were undertaken with hectic manoeuvres. The camps meagre supply of timber for palisades was being emptied to make stormdders of equal height to the walls of Tothmor. There was no time to add the iron top piece, which let thedders hook onto the battlements without being pushed away by the defenders. Brand had dered this unnecessary, despite the protestations of the engineer, who felt that the correct construction of siegedders was a matter of professional pride. Like most of his craft, he was a riverman, having studied at the guild in Fontaine, and he was the only engineer that the Order had been given at its disposal for this campaign.


    The siege equipment was the most critical part of the preparations being made, but that only upied a small part of the camp, as there was only one engineer to supervise the work. Elsewhere, most soldiers were busy loading supplies onto wagons, checking harnesses and the condition of the draught animals, or making sure that tents were ready to be packed away in the morning. Nearly the entire army would depart, leaving only about a hundred men behind to watch the camp under Sir Ewinds leadership.


    Once the ounders realise what we have done, I assume they will only care about Tothmor and not our camp here, Brand told the knight. However, should they dispatch forces to seize it, use your best judgement whether to fight or retreat. Once we have the city, this camp is not worth losing every soldier under yourmand to defend.


    Understood, replied Ewind. It irks me to be left behind, though, lieutenant.


    I leave you behind because I trust you the most, Brand exined.


    I know, I know, Ewind reiterated, waving his hand in dismissal. The measure of knight is not that he obeys his will, but hismander, he quoted from the Codex.


    Glory is found in fealty, not on the field, Brand added with a smile and walked away, yelling orders to the soldiers along his path.


    You are staying behind to guard the tents? The question was spoken in a superior tone of voice,ing from lips curled in a smug smile.


    I have that honour, yes, Ewind replied stiffly.


    The other person approached, his golden spurs signalling him a knight. You are generous to call it an honour. Every other knight is to assault the city, fighting the enemies of the Order, came the scornful response, while you remain safe, protecting horse droppings.


    There is honour in service, Sir Vilmund. Are you in need of being reminded? Ewind turned to face the other knight, resting his left hand casually on the pommel of his sheathed sword.


    Hardly, Vilmund scoffed. I admire your ability to ept serving the whims of a boy, though.


    He is our lieutenant and thus ourmander, the drakonian knight pointed out, clenching his jaw.


    Sir William is ourmander, the inder corrected his peer. As chosen by Sir Reynold. Not this brat!


    Sir Reynold is dead because he underestimated our enemy. You should not make the same mistake with Sir Adalbrand, Ewind warned the other.


    Keep barking,pdog, Vilmundughed, walking away.


    ~~~~


    It was not even dawn when the Order army prepared to march out. The soldiers took a hearty breakfast as they were expected to march a long distance for many hours with few breaks, and many tents were swiftly disassembled and added to the others on the carts.


    Weaving around the soldiers attending to the various tasks, Egil made his way to the tent where Godfrey was chained up. This time, the guard did not question him but simply waved the boy inside.


    What news? asked Godfrey in a hushed voice as soon as Egil was inside.


    We are marching soon, the boy replied. Towards Tothmor, the men say.


    Tothmor? Godfrey eximed. How can that be?


    I dont really know, Egil admitted with an ignorant shrug. Thats what they told me.


    There was a rattling of chains as Godfrey scratched his cheek. His eyes were vacant for a moment. Is my sword still in the captains tent? he asked suddenly, turning his gaze on Egil.


    I think so. No reason any would move it.


    Godfrey pulled his shackles a bit, making the iron links stretch out. Do they intend to keep me here?


    I asked, Egil told him. You will be freedter today, once were gone.


    The prisoner nodded. That should give me time, he muttered, looking at his chains.


    Time for what?


    Godfrey gave a vague smile without looking up. Nothing you need worry about.


    Egil let out a frustrated sigh. I feel like a pawn.


    Hearing this, Godfrey raised his eyes to stare at the boy. We are all pieces on a chessboard. You may think there is a great difference between a king and a pawn, but in the end, we are all trapped on the same board. Smoothing the thin beard on his chin, he continued. We think we are free in our choices, but in truth, our every move is dictated by our circumstances. A pawn has but one direction to travel. A knight has many, but still he moves as dictated by the Codex. A jarl may move backwards, forwards, or to either side, but even he cannot escape the board. Once the game ends, once pawn and king are removed from the board, we know them for what they are.


    What are they? asked Egil breathlessly.


    Pieces of the same dead wood.


    What are you saying?


    You may be a pawn, Egil, and your choices may be limited. Godfrey gave a smile. But at least you are ying, and you know who your allies are among the other pieces. That is more certainty than many others are given.


    Egil stood silent for a moment. Still, I wish I was a king rather than a pawn.


    This evokedughter from hispanion. I cannot begrudge you that.


    What piece are you? The question came with sudden sharpness.


    Godfreysughter turned to smile again. I am not in the habit of answering such questions, but you are free to specte.


    Egil frowned. When we first met in Middanhal, I would have taken you for a thane, moving across the board to protect others. I dont think so anymore.


    No?


    Now I am wondering if you maybe you are the dragonlord, moving in every direction as you please, much stronger than you look.


    Godfreys smile widened. Maybe there is hope for you yet.


    ~~~~


    The weak winter sun was still early in its ascendance when the Order army rode out of camp. A strongpany of knights had already set out to act as vanguard and intercept any ounder scouts ahead. Most of the remaining knights and their attendants rode in front of the column as it snaked out of the palisade gate with William and Brand at the front. Row after row of footmen marched behind, ten men side by side; their shields were strapped to their backs atop their woollen cloaks, and spears served as walking staves. A score of carts came near the end with another hundred infantry bringing up the rear along with twenty-five knights.


    Two thousand men to take Tothmor, William muttered under his breath.


    It was enough to take Middanhal, Brand reminded him with a confident smile.


    Behind them rode a squire, a sergeant, and a scribe. The first controlled his mount with grace, the second was able to remain in the saddle, and the third gave doubts as to whether he or the horse was in charge.


    Is it much longer? asked Egil with an unpleasant expression upon his face.


    Its several days, Baldwin informed him, patting the neck of his war steed; the animal was more costly than Matthews or Egils horses put together.


    Hammer and quill take me, Egil mumbled.


    What does that even mean? asked Matthew with condescending frown. Is that something feather boys say?


    Its something hignders say, Egil corrected him defensively. Youd know that if your head wasnt so empty.


    Its not, the other boy protested.


    Then why do I always beat you when we y chess? Egil pointed out triumphantly.


    What is its meaning? Baldwin asked, interrupting their quarrel.


    What? Oh, said the apprenticed scribe. It refers to Hamaring. Improve your skills with both hammer and quill, the whiterobes always say.


    Strengthen your body and sharpen your mind, the squire nodded.


    Exactly.


    Nobody does that, Matthew argued. I train with weapons because I am a warrior. Feather boy here trains with parchment and ink, he added, nodding towards Egil.


    A knight does, Baldwin countered. We practise both riding and fighting, but also numbers and letters, history and knowledge of thend.


    d I am not going to be one, Matthew replied, soundingfortablyzy.


    So is the Order, Egil mumbled, eliciting a smile from Baldwin.


    We all serve in different ways, the squire dered with a tranquil voice.


    ~~~~


    The camp seemed all but deserted once the army had left. A handful of soldiers stood guard by the gate or dispersed along the stockade. A few craftsmen had remained in camp and were at work; the sounds of a hammer striking an anvil could be heard ringing. Elsewhere, the stench of leather being tanned made its presence known.


    A soldier entered the tent where Godfrey was chained up, wielding a key. Barely ncing at the prisoner, he grabbed the shackles and unlocked them. Youre allowed outside, he spoke gruffly.


    What about my sword? asked Godfrey.


    I couldnt say. Not my problem, the soldier replied dismissively. Lieutenant said you can walk around camp, but youre not allowed to leave until told otherwise. Understood?


    Understood.


    The footman left without another word while the now freed Godfrey got to his feet. Walking outside, he blinked a few times against the sunlight, narrowing his eyes as he nced around. Having gotten his bearings, he began to walk idly in one direction. From a distance, hidden between some of the remaining tents, a pair of eyes kept watch.


    ~~~~


    While there was still daylight, Godfrey seemed content with merely wandering around, making asional conversation or procuring something to eat. He stopped by the carpenter, admiring his craftsmanship as thetter sawed and hewed nks for various purposes; when the foraging party returned with fresh water from the nearby stream, a few jests and gracious words allowed Godfrey to drink his fill from one of the barrels. All through these encounters, a soldier was twenty to thirty paces behind Godfrey, never losing him of sight.


    The former prisoner spent thest hours of the day in conversation with some of the soldiers seated around a campfire, trading stories. Godfreys shadow had remained patiently in hiding behind a tent, gnawing on some dried meat on asion. He only stirred when he saw Godfrey rise and make some form of farewell, though the words were inaudible to him.


    The observer nimbly and quietly moved closer; the darkness made it harder to see Godfrey. In fact, none noticed as the wanderer put his hand inside a pocket and withdrew a handful of soaked sawdust; as Godfrey threw it on the fire, however, it caught everyones attention. The mes sputtered, ejecting sparks in every direction and causing a burst of smoke. The soldier sent to watch Godfrey shielded his eyes, looking away. It was only a moment before he returned his gaze to the same spot, but toote. Panic appearing on his face, he hurried forward with eyes darting in every direction, but to no avail; Godfrey was gone.


    ~~~~


    It waste the following day when a weary traveller approached a small rock formation many miles south-west of Tothmor. He was still some distance away when a voice cried out, Javed! A shadow appeared to spring from the stone and stepped into the sunlight to reveal itself as a ck-d warrior, specifically an ounder of their ckbootpany.


    Good, Godfrey eximed. I was worried none might be here.


    We have kept a sharp watch, replied Kamran. You seem worn.


    I have walked all night and day.


    Trouble? asked the ckboot with a concerned look, handing Godfrey a water skin to drink from.


    I will exin as we walk, hispanion replied after some heavy sips. He began to walk north-east, Kamran joining him. The drnders are marching towards Tothmor.


    How so? it burst from Kamran. They cannot have received great reinforcements in the dead of winter, can they?


    No, Godfrey shook his head. Something has given them courage to assault Tothmor. Has there been any great change in the city?


    None, replied the ckboot. There is some fatigue among the men as to be expected when water is being rationed so harshly. But our grip on the city remains strong.


    Godfrey took a few more sips from the water skin without slowing his pace. Perhaps they hope theck of water has grown so desperate, they can besiege the city in a few weeks, but that seems a foolhardy endeavour.


    Winter rains will be on us soon, Kamran added, looking up at the cloudless sky. With thetest provisions from Lakon, we will have enough until then.


    What provisions? Godfrey asked,ing to an abrupt halt as he turned to look at hispanion.


    A supply train arrived from Lakon shortly before I left the city, Kamran exined. It had been attacked, but the drnders were careless. Almost half the water survived.


    How odd, Godfrey mumbled, resuming movement. Destroying the water barrels would be the highest priority, you would think. Are you certain of this?


    Completely, the ounder replied. I was going to fill my skin from the barrels, except they would not let me. I watched them take it to the reservoir instead.


    Strange, Godfrey uttered, scratching the stubbles on his cheek. First the drnders allow this water to reach the city, and now they march with haste  of course, he suddenly spoke, interrupting himself. It is obvious. How do you kill an enemy that you are not strong enough to fight?


    A frown crossed Kamrans face. You stab him in the back. Or poison him.


    When you return, you will find more than fatigue guing the garrison, Godfrey dered. They poisoned the water and let your soldiers bring it back.


    What do we do? Should we warn themander? Kamran asked concerned.


    I cannot predict the consequences of this, one way or the other, Godfrey admitted. His face spoke of deep weariness, but he increased his pace. I think we must let this y out. Allow the drnders to seize the city if they can.


    We do nothing?


    You will get me into the city, Godfreymanded. He squinted his eyes at Mount Tothmor as it loomed against the horizon. Afterwards, gather your brethren and go on patrol. Whatever happens to the city, be far away when it does.


    Understood, Kamran assented. They quickened their pace yet again.


    ~~~~


    It took the Order army three days of forced march to cover the distance from their main camp to Tothmor. Theirmanders had judged the march well, making the final approach to the city after nightfall. Hundreds of men, primarily the best marksmen among the archers, had been sent ahead to catch any ounder patrols and silence them. This aplished, the Order army poised its ranks on the in before Tothmor with moonlight illuminating their helmets and armour. The city was asleep and its few sentinels unaware of what was about to unfold.

 Chapter 65: Shadow War

    Chapter 65: Shadow War


    Shadow War


    Tothmor


    The day preceding the nightly assault, a ckboot returned to the city from patrol. He brought a prisoner with him, captured and brought back for questioning. The guards merely waved them through, one district gate after another; it wasmonce for the ckboots to move between highest and lowest circle and beyond. Furthermore, each gate was undermanned, and the soldiers that were present seemed preupied with keeping their heads up and the food in their stomachs down.


    Once inside the first circle, Kamran steered towards the dungeon. Thanks to the dedication of the me priestess, they were no longer as crowded as before, though they were by no means empty. Kamran led his captive through corridors and down stairways until he reached a room containing a few guards. They all seemed in good health, drinking water from the supply kept separate inside the pce.


    I need to stash this prisoner for a day until he is to be questioned tomorrow, Kamran exined.


    One of the soldiers got up, eyeing Godfrey. Why not ask your questions now? Hes right there.


    That is not your concern, the ckboot replied brusquely. Put him somewhere isted and leave him there. I do not want him talking to anyone, whether they are drnders or faithful.


    All good, all good, the guard grunted, getting manacles to p around Godfreys leg. Kamran nced at Godfrey, standing idle for a moment, which attracted a few curious stares from the remaining soldiers. Clearing his throat, the ckboot left.


    Isted, one of the seated guards scoffed. Sarvar take him! What does he expect?


    Careful, cautioned the one pping chains on Godfrey. The syag has not only the soft tread of a cat, but its ears too.


    He is just a man, hispanion spoke with disdain. He is not of the fravashi.


    Still, you want to go against his orders?


    He does notmand me, came the dismissive answer, though spoken by a voice growing less certain of itself.


    Throw the dust-eater in the storage room, the one by the end of the hall, a third guard suddenly interjected. It wont matter what he says in there.


    The guard by Godfreys side lit up in a grin and began walking, pulling the prisoner with him.


    They walked for a while, passing cell doors through which the asional moan or pained sigh could be heard. The guard showed no interest in those, instead leading Godfrey to a small door, which opened to a likewise tiny room. Provisions had at one time been stored here. Now it was empty except for hay strewn on the floor and a wooden beam supporting the ceiling; iron rings had been attached to the wood, transforming it into a primitive cell. The guard quickly fastened Godfrey and left, closing the door without a second nce. It left the room inplete darkness.


    Godfrey raised his hands in front of him, still bound by rope. Not much hospitality here, he said at the closed door in Mearcspeech.


    No room at the inn, a voice called out somewhere in the darkness.


    Godfrey started, staring in the direction of the sound to no avail. I did not realise I hadpany.


    No room, so they stuff us in here, the speaker exined.


    He could have untied my hands, at least, Godfrey mentioned.


    I miss my barrel.


    Godfrey gave a frown. We have met before.


    No, the other voice spoke contemtively. No, this is the first time you are in here.


    You are the mad prophet from the street. The one who awaited the return of the god in the mountain.


    You know of him? Have you seen him? The eagerness was unmistakeable.


    Not since west met, which must have been some months ago, Godfrey exined in a kind voice. So this is where you ended. They sent you as their thrall to make thend fertile, and for your reward, younguish in here.


    I tried to sow, the madman replied. I ploughed and tiled the earth, I sowed my seeds, but none would take.


    They did, Godfrey argued. Some listened, and others watched to find conscripts for their cause. The poor and downtrodden, ripe to be recruited. You were merely the scare doll on the field, attracting attention. And now they have ced you in here, in case they will need you again.


    You think so? The eagerness returned to his voice. I will be called upon again?


    I wonder how long you have been a prisoner in both body and mind, Godfrey mumbled. You are beyond my help.


    He has not forgotten me. One could hear the smile as the madman spoke. He will return and see how I have served him. He shall call me faithful.


    Do you think the sun has set yet? Godfrey abruptly asked.


    The sun will only rise with hising, hispanion rambled.


    I have ces to be, you see, came the exnation, and I should neither be too early nor toote.


    All things happen ording to the time he has set, the prophet spoke blissfully.


    I suppose I will take my chances now, Godfrey decided, speaking to himself. I would have preferred solitude, but you are hardly a reliable witness to anything.


    I am a witness! That is my purpose, to bear witness. The exmation hade forcefully, but the madmans strength seemed sapped already, and his voice became a whisper.


    Stay here and wait, Godfrey told him. If my suspicions are correct, you will not be a prisoner much longer. With those words, he pulled his hands apart until the rope broke. Wasting no time, he grabbed the iron ring around his leg that kept him chained. As if it were brittle ss, Godfrey broke the ring apart with little visible effort exerted. Standing up, he left the room.


    ~~~~


    The sun had set more than an hour ago when Rostam,mander of the city, entered the royal chambers that now served him. The shadow warrior followed him all the way to the doorstep, staring into the room with yellow eyes. A moment passed, Rostam standing restless until the shadow seemed satisfied and allowed themander to close the door. With footsteps that barely made sound, the shadow began patrolling down the corridor.


    Rostam exhaled, removing some of his garbs and making himself morefortable. He poured a generous helping of wine into a goblet, immediately taking a deep draught.


    Pour me a cup. I am parched.


    Rostam almost dropped the wine as he pivoted on one foot, his sword halfway out of the sheath.


    Rostam, it is me.


    Javed! he hissed. Are you mad? What if I had stabbed you or alerted the guards?


    Forgive me, Godfrey said, though there was nothing apologetic about his voice. I am exceedingly weary. He took the goblet from the ounders hands and emptied it.


    How did you get here? Rostam asked, ncing around.


    What matters is why I am here. I havee to warn you, the traveller exined.


    Of what?


    Tonight, if my count is correct, the drnders will attack Tothmor.


    Rostams eyes widened. How is that possible?


    They marched out of their camp some days ago.


    But what chance do they have to take the city?


    How many of your soldiers are in any condition to fight? Godfrey asked. Rostams lips parted, but no answer issued. As I suspected. Nothing is certain, but I expect their assault will seed.


    There is a chance still, Rostam spoke, eyes darting towards the door. If I act now, perhaps I can marshal the defences


    How will you exin your prescient knowledge? Besides, I do not think we want you to defend the city.


    You do not want me to defend the city, Rostam spoke usingly. These are my men about to be ughtered, men who trust me!


    Speak quietly, Godfrey admonished him. Yes, that is to be endured. You are a traitor, Rostam, which brings a bitter price to pay at times.


    My men are not traitors, they do not deserve this! Rostam argued fiercely.


    No, they do not, Godfrey assented with a calm demeanour in stark contrast. Neither do the Order soldiers who will die tonight. None of us deserve any of this, but it cannot be any other way.


    Silence followed. What must I do? Rostam asked at length.


    Go to sleep.


    What?


    At some point, they wille to wake you with news of the assault. Lead the defence, but find some reason to slip back here alone. I will show you a hidden way out of the city.


    My shadow, Rostam remarked, biting his lip. If he notices my flight and brings word back, it could be my head.


    I will ensure that does not happen, Godfrey promised. Return to Sikandar, make up some story about escaping, and return to his services.


    If he will trust me, Rostam argued. I will be the man who lost this city. He might prefer to make an example of me, or worse, I will be sent to Shahriyars mercy. He swallowed, fingering his neck.


    Sikandar knows your value. I feel confident he will prefer to make use of you.


    You feel confident, Rostam muttered.


    Would you rather stay and be a prisoner of the Order? Imagine your fate in this city after what the Servants of the me have done to it.


    Good point, themander mumbled. He began undressing himself, followed by his usual routine before going to sleep; Godfrey retreated to a dark corner, allowing the shadows to swallow him.


    ~~~~


    At midnight, nearly two thousand soldiers crossed the in before Tothmor. Soon, their approach could not be concealed any longer, but it did not cause the attackers any hesitation. They spread out, carrying stormdders to assault the walls far apart. The ounders scrambled to alert every avable defender and bring them to the fortifications. While few in number, most of them were Anausa, trained with the bow and well suited for this task. They filled up every tower, raining down arrows. The rest stood with spears, swords, and shields upon the walls, waiting as thedders were raised and Order soldiers began ascending.


    It was a daunting task to climb up thedders, getting onto the walls without being run through, but the Ordermanders had sent their knights to be the first wave of assault. While some fell, most were able to get a foothold and begin pushing the ounders back. Once the knights were on the walls, the circumstances changed tobat in which they excelled. The ounders were too few to hope to hold them back; within an hour, the knights swept down the defences and conquered the gatehouse.


    Once the gate was opened, a force of fifty mounted knights rode through, having been kept in reserve for this purpose. Their horses thundered up the main street of the city, achieving their goal due to surprise and speed. The ounders were still sending reinforcements to the fifth district, and the gate between the fifth and fourth was open; before they realised that the enemy was already inside the city, the knights and theirpanions seized this gate as well. Battle erupted on the open square as the knights pressed forward towards the third district while the ounders were finally arriving in numbers, pushing back.


    At first, the skirmish was even. The knights were superior when counted one for one, but the ounders soon greatly outnumbered them, and the open area allowed them to fight with closed ranks, assaulting the Order force from several sides. Constantly, the Anausa soldiers pushed forward, their discipline asserting itself to allow them to gain ground; the knights, trained to fight until death, fought with such ferocity that every gain made by the ounders was swiftly lost moments after.


    The stalemate was only broken by the appearance of a shadow warrior. In the dark of night, he was barely visible in his ckened clothes and armour; his weapons shone coldly in the moonlight however, and his yellow eyes surveyed the fighting. Leading the Anausa forward, the shadow hurled himself into battle. Armed with a sword and long dagger, he found weaknesses in the knights armour and struck them down. One by one they fell, disrupting their ranks and turning their victory to defeat.


    ~~~~


    By the outer gate and nked by Baldwin, William stood assessing the situation. He had been fighting to capture the gatehouse, and blood was upon his sword and armour. He had assumed the role as captain again, though, directing his men. The ounders were still arriving from every direction inside the district, not knowing the outer walls were already lost or perhaps hoping to retake them. In response, William was directing his troops as new enemies appeared, ensuring the gate remained on Order hands and allowing his army to enter the city.


    His attention was caught by a sergeant running down the hill,ing from the gate to the fourth district. What are you running from, man? William yelled at him, stepping forward. The battle is that way!


    The ounders are retaking the upper gate, the sergeant gasped. Our men are being massacred!


    With me! William shouted at the score of soldiers surrounding him, running with no sign of weariness into the city.


    ~~~~


    The knights had been pushed into the very gatehouse they had conquered, desperately holding onto it. The difficulties in assaulting the inner walls protecting each circle in the city meant that victory would be extremely costly; the price would also increase over time as it allowed the ounders to better prepare their defence. For now, the close fighting conditions caused by the narrow gatehouse aided the knights with their inferior number; rather than attempting to win the skirmish, they defended themselves as best they could.


    Against them, the shadow warrior stood with not a single cut or wound upon him despite the fact that he fought without shield; both his des dripped with blood. He stood a daunting figure, striking fear into even the battle-hardened knights as they could do naught but defend themselves with increasing despair. Just as they were hardest pressed, just as the gate was nearly lost, the ted cry went up from the men in the back. Hes here! The Unyielding is here!


    Without hesitation, William flung himself into the fray. Several ounders fell before his de before he stood face to face with the shadow warrior. Each paused, measuring their foe; then their fight began.


    At first, soldiers from either side continued to fight around them, trying to intervene; whenever someone did, they fell swiftly as if a minor inconvenience to either of thebatants. Under the arch of the gatehouse, there was little room for others regardless. Soon, the soldiers were reduced to spectators, watching tensely and ready to spring into action as soon as their champion imed victory.


    William fought true to his name, refusing to yield ground and allow the gatehouse to be taken. He used his shield in an offensive manner as expertly as was possible while making full use of its defensive capabilities. The shadow warrior with his two des,cking the same protection, was forced to constantly defend himself with hardly any chance to strike back.


    First blood was drawn by the knight. The shadow warrior did not wear greaves, only leather to protect his lower legs; Williams de cut a gash across the shin. His opponent snarled and drew back defensively, but a momentter used his leg as before with no visible consternation.


    A lengthy exchange of blows and parries ensued, culminating in the shadow shing his sword across Williams chest. It tore his Order surcoat, cutting tips of the star, but the mail below held true. Having moved forward to strike William, the shadow had exposed himself, and the knight mmed his shield into his opponents face. The cloth wrapped around him fell loose, revealing the steel mask covering his face. The hideous sight carved into the mask did not cause William to hesitate, who followed up with a violent thrust of his sword forward.


    The shadow evaded at thest moment, retaliating as William was now the one to leave himself exposed. The dagger came against Williams shield arm on the inside, cutting through the leather straps that held it bound to his limb.


    With a blow aimed at the edge of the shield, the shadow shattered Williams tattered hold upon it, and it fell to the side. William quickly stepped aside, out of reach. Blood was tricking down his left arm; the shadows dagger had also found his flesh where the mail was weakened and where bracers did not protect.


    Emboldened by his enemys vulnerability, the shadow renewed his assaults. Williams sword shed in constant movements to protect him, though some blows had to be received by his bracers or chain shirt; the shadow knew how to use his sword to put Williams in check while his knife struck against the knight.


    Finally, the fell warrior had luck. His dagger burst the rings of Williams mail, slicing through fabric and leather to bite into flesh. With a gasp, William nced down to see the de in his stomach. With his left hand, he grabbed the shadows wrist, preventing him from sliding the dagger out. This left both warriors in precarious situations; their left arms crossed in front of them and locked together, neither could defend against the others sword arm.


    The shadow raised his weapon for a deadly strike, but William brought up the pommel of his sword, striking it against his enemys face. There was a sh of metal as it hit the mask. Before the shadows confusion lifted, William struck again, repeatedly smashing the pommel against his enemys jawbone or temple where the mask did not protect. With a yell born of pain and exertion, William finally hacked his sword into the shadow warriors neck. It took him another four blows to sever the head. Itnded on the ground, as did the fallen creatures sword, soon followed by his body. Blood pulsed upwards from the hole in the neck.


    The Anausa watched the end of the fight with shock and horror; scarcely had the shadows headnded before they cried out in fear and fled. The Order soldiers for their part roared in battle lust and gave pursuit.


    William sank to one knee, slowly pulling the knife out of his stomach. Baldwin rushed to his side to support him, two solitary figures standing under the shade of the gatehouse; a sudden eye in the storm that raged around them.


    ~~~~


    Outside the city, the remaining Order infantry notmitted to the battle stood arrayed along with a mottled band on horseback. Chief among them was Brand, nked on one side by his young sergeant and by his man-at-arms on the other. Besides them, a minstrel and a scribe were also present. The sight of Tothmor against the mountain was in front of them, though with the fighting ceased on the outer fortifications, they could not see any sign of battle. Even the sounds had trouble reaching them, muted by buildings and walls. To the ignorant observer, the city might seem peaceful as the sun slowly began to rise on the horizon.


    A runner appeared from the city, moving from the gate up towards Brands location. Ie from the captain, he panted.


    Report.


    Fighting remains in the first district, the soldier recited. They are entrenched. Sir William has been wounded. Looks and murmurs were exchanged among the listeners. He does not consider it severe, but it leaves him unable to assess the situation or fight.


    Brand turned towards the reserves and the knight standing by them. Take twopanies with you all the way to the first district, hemanded. Order the rest to cleanse the lower districts.


    The knight nodded and barked some orders. Thest five hundred Order soldiers set into motion. Some followed their knight lieutenant up the city to finish the assault, while the rest split into smaller forces to search through the streets of each circle and clear out pockets of resistance.


    Let us take a closer look at our victory, Brand told his followers and was met by grinning faces from some, troubled looks from others. Spurring his horse forward, the first lieutenant rode into Tothmor. Despite the triumph of the moment, Brands face was passive as he entered, even when the Order soldiers at the gate greeted him with salute and words invoking Sigvards blood. His man-at-arms looked with dispassionate interest on the bodies that littered the streets and open square. His sergeant nced in every direction with great curiosity. The scribe likewise had eyes darting everywhere, though his reaction was subdued. The bard, entering as thest, had sorrow chiselled into his features.

 Chapter 66: Changing Guard

    Chapter 66: Changing Guard


    Changing Guard


    Tothmor


    I shall always regret I never saw that duel.


    William gave a pained smile. Baldwin will be happy to recount the tale, I am sure. He was lying on what had been the marshals bed once in the upper chambers of the Order keep, which was flying the banner of the Star once more.


    Bards will be singing it soon, I bet, Brand imed, his smile unmarred.


    Gods spare me, I have suffered enough, William jested, which made hispanion grin.


    I will send Troy to keep youpany, Brand threatened. William let his rareughter sound, though quickly followed by a winced expression. How is the wound? Brand asked concerned.


    A trifle, the captain dered. I will be on horseback in a few days.


    I have learned a new word in the ounder tongue, Brand confided in him. I cannot pronounce it, but it means Shadow yer. Their name for you, he added. Their fear of you is more effective than threats of torture.


    This wound was not for nothing, in that case, William said with a wry smile. Is the city under our control?


    Brand nodded. Every circle. Our men have begun cleaning up. We have far too many prisoners. We may have to send them to Ingmond to be guarded there. I will send an expedition today to fetch as much water as possible, also.


    The water! William sat up suddenly, disturbing his injury and contorting his face in pain.


    Brand held up his hands in a soothing gesture. I have already had the contaminated water removed from the cisterns. We are very low, but I also sent a messenger to our camp, and Sir Ewind will bring any water there to the city with speed.


    Good, William mumbled, lying down again with careful movements.


    I will start recruitment as well. We lost about three hundred men. I do not know the number of wounded yet. Except one, he added with the corner of his mouth curling upwards, looking at the injured captain. We need to replenish our ranks.


    It will not be enough to keep the city safe, William muttered darkly. We cannot recruit enough to match the ounders numbers. Once they know what we have done, they will march on Tothmor to besiege it, and the city is not in any shape to withstand a siege.


    I am aware, Brand dered. I have written letters to the quartermaster at the Citadel and the town criers in Middanhal, informing them of our victory and our need for aid.


    The town criers? William raised an eyebrow.


    The people should know of our sess, should they not? Brand asked, his sly smile showing that his question needed no answer.


    If we are fortunate, the ounders will not move against us before winters end, which gives us a few months. That is not enough time to expect aid or reinforcements from Middanhal. Not when there is no lord marshal to give the order and see it done with speed.


    You are right, Brand admitted. I doubt we can expect the lord protector to care about our plight.


    We cannot afford being trapped in Tothmor, William began to exin, closing his eyes. But if we move against Polisals to the north, we risk being attacked by their army in Lakon and reverse. We must avoid being besieged, and we do not have time toy siege either.


    The battlefield is our only chance, and we must do so before their armies link up, Brand assented.


    When they hold all the advantages, how do we aplish this? And whom do we march against first?


    I do not know, and I do not know, Brand confessed, though a smile yed on his lips. I will have to find out. He paused briefly. You should rest. We will speak againter.


    William gave a barely perceptible nod. Can you send the boy scribe to meter? If you are sending letters to Middanhal, I should write to Eleanor.


    Of course, Brand promised, leaving the captains room.


    As he walked out of the tower and moved towards the district gate, he was spotted by several elderly men in rich clothing. Sir Adalbrand, they called out and stalked towards him with an abrupt agility belying their age. They crowded around the young knight, who stood a head taller and gave the impression of a kennel master surrounded by eager hounds. Sir Adalbrand, we must speak with you!


    Did you receive our request for an audience?


    We have a petition you must hear, imed one.


    I implore your aid, my lord, urged another.


    My lord counts, Brand interrupted them, raising his hands. I am but the first lieutenant. Your questions should be directed at the captain.


    Then we must see him as soon as possible, someone demanded.


    Of course. As soon as his wounds are healed, Brand smiled. Now excuse me, I have matters that require my attention, he told them and pushed his way through the noblemen. Some of them attempted to follow as did their mour, but they could not keep the young lieutenants pace, and he disappeared through the gate and into the city.


    ~~~~


    Three boys stood on the great square by the city gate, looking around. There was a bustle of Order soldiers moving in every direction, but the silver spurs on Baldwins boots gave him authority whenever anyone yelled at them to gawk somewhere else.


    Over there, I saw Count Hubert stand on the crions while hacking a siegedder to pieces, the squire told hispanions. Arrows flying everywhere with nothing to shield him.


    Thats impressive, Matthew granted with envy in his voice.


    Sir Leonard must have fallen somewhere around here, Baldwin spected, his eyes ncing over the open area. I hope they did not mistreat his body. He deserved the utmost honour.


    Cant expect these filthy dust-lickers to show any decency, Matthew eximed venomously.


    Sir Leonard was the marshal? You saw him fall? asked Egil.


    No, if I had seen it, I would not have to guess, Baldwin exined. Butst I saw, he was standing here, preparing his men to meet the enemy once they breached the gate. He knew death would follow.


    He sounds like a brave man, Egil mentioned quietly.


    He did what an Order soldier should do, Matthew dered, touching the star on his chest.


    Lets begin to go back, the scribe said to the other boys. Troy asked me to write a letter for him tonight, and I need to write something for Sir Adalbrand first.


    They began walking up the main street, soon reaching the district gate. Baldwin slowed his pace as they walked under the arch of the gatehouse, eventuallying to a halt. Right here, this was the first time I was afraid for Sir Williams life, he spoke quietly.


    I heard about the fight, Matthew said eagerly. Was it really what they say?


    I dont know what they say, the squire replied. I didnt watch the fight for the spectacle, either. Watching it was worse than when I fought on the walls during the siege.


    But he will be fine, Egil reassured his friend. They brother said so, right?


    Yes. Baldwin started moving again. Lets get back.


    They continued walking through a city that, although liberated, still had an air of oppression clouding its streets. Mostly soldiers were seen outside while the inhabitants stayed indoors; more than the harshness of wintery heavy on Tothmor still.


    ~~~~


    The first lieutenant of the Order army walked down the road, reaching the third district. It was unusual to see an Ordermander unattended, but the lieutenant did not seem troubled, nor did any give him trouble. The locals shied away from seeing a knight approach, and the soldiers showed him the utmost respect; everyone knew that it had been Brands idea and n to assault Tothmor.


    At the gate square, he nced east and west, deciding to follow the main district street as it led to the temples for the male divines. The third circle was possibly the area most changed by the upation; where it once had been crowded by robes in all six colours, Brand barely saw any now.


    He reached the temple for Rihimil; the building itself had seen little change, though its interior was unrecognisable to any follower of the divines. The hall had been stripped almost bare. The tapestries on the walls had been burned. The wall painting behind the altar in the custom of the great Temple in Middanhal had systematically been demolished with a pickaxe, leaving only half-broken stone behind. The same had been done to the floor tiles, as they had been coloured to depict a knight in ck armour surrounded by shining white. The statue that had adorned the altar had been smashed to pieces. Only the altar stone itself remained; its white marble was stained dark red.


    Gods peace, Brand called out, to you and any of your house. The walls threw back the sound of his own voice.


    There was a moment before any answer came. There is only me, a voice replied, soon followed by a man in ck robe appearing from deeper inside the shrine. But gods peace to you. His robe waspletely unadorned, showing him to be a mere acolyte.


    It is true what we heard? You are alone?


    I am, the ckrobe confirmed. Although he spoke and acted in a calm manner, his face seemed perpetually haunted. I have been doing my best to clean up, though progress is slow. I expect my brothers in Middanhal will send aid once they learn of my plight.


    Brand gave moisture to his lips, his typical nonchnce gone. Is the ce suitable for prayer, or should we wait until it can be cleansed?


    The acolyte looked at the stained altar stone. Many of my brothers died there. The spilling of lifeblood in a sanctified ce is odious to Rihimil, but they were killed because they would not deny him. Sometimes, their voices resound in this room. No matter how much I may wash this stone, that colour will remain, as it should. I cannot think of any ces in the Realms where Rihimil would listen as intently as here.


    Good, Brand nodded. He took a purse from his belt, heavy with silver, and ced it in the ckrobes hand. Being a victoriousmander brought other benefits besides the respect of his men. Put this towards the restauration of the temple until Middanhal sends help.


    Thank you, my lord, the acolyte replied with a small bow. Despite the generous donation, he did not seem overwhelmed with gratitude, nor did he seem disdainful. It appeared as if strong emotions were simply beyond his grasp.


    I wish to pray, Brand continued, and the ckrobe retreated out of the hall.


    Walking forward, the knight knelt by the altar. He ran his finger over the reddened marble, his brow furrowed in contemtion. Finally, he leaned forward to ce his forehead against the edge of the altar stone, mumbling prayers.


    ~~~~


    Given the scarcity of supplies that Tothmor had suffered for months during the siege and the upation afterwards, finding an alehouse that served customers was a challenge. Wine was little more than a legend, brandy and other spirits long gone. For those willing to pay an exorbitant cost for watered down beer, a few establishments were still avable to be patronised, however. With the promise of a spectacle, Troy was even able to bargain the price down to a level where, as Quentin put it, it only gouged out one eye instead of both.


    A rendition of On the Field of Blue followed; there were a couple of times where Troy hummed with closed eyes, hiding the fact that he did not quite remember the words to sing, but the audience was not picky and rewarded him with generous apuse. Some coins changed hands, and four mugs of small beer were nted in front of the bard, Geberic, Nichs, and Quentin. As if onmand, each man grabbed his tankard and raised it to his lips.


    Its a far cry from Middanhal, remarked Geberic, who was the only drakonian in thepany. Mind you, its a lot better than the Crag, he added with coarseughter.


    I know what Hel is like now, Nichs dered dismayed.


    Id sacrifice one hand for a decent mug of spiced ale. One of Nichs too, Quentin imed with a sour expression; the offered bargain elicited an indignant response from his friend.


    They all looked at Troy, who emptied it his cup in one gulp, setting it down on the table with a satisfied sigh. Looking at the others, he was met by stares of disbelief. What? This was my usual fare before I met Leander.


    How did a butter-fingered bard like you befriend the king of Hthiod, anyway?


    Yeah, what proof do we even have that you know him?


    Anyone can send off a letter and im its for a king.


    Before Troy could answer, arge fellow with the appearance of an experienced fighter approached the table. As they noticed him, Quentin tensed slightly, while Geberic rested a hand casually on his knife hilt. The stranger cleared his throat. I hear you men serve the lieutenant of the Order army.


    What about it? Geberic asked, keeping his voice neutral.


    I want to join.


    Theyll take recruits soon enough, replied the drakonian.


    Not the Order army. I hear you lot fight as his thanes. I want to be part of that.


    Quentin gave a quick, scornfulugh. Anything else we can do for you? Cup of wine? New clothes? Pay for your next visit at the


    If I join the Order army, I will be put on garrison duty with all the green boys. I want to fight the ounders.


    Admirable, Geberic granted, but were not in the habit of trusting the lieutenants life to any fellow who walks up to us in a tavern.


    I was a Kings de, the stranger exined. Queens de too. The lives of two sovereigns were entrusted to me.


    Yeah, and my mother is the Veiled, Quentin mocked.


    Its true, Troy interjected. His name is ukos. I remember him.


    Surprise coloured hispanions. You know him? asked Geberic.


    The minstrel looked up at ukos from his seat. I do. When we fled the city, he stayed behind to guard our escape. He must have done well, because we werent pursued. Hearing this, the other men exchanged looks.


    Youre the bard, ukos eximed. The kings friend.


    Troy gave a big smile. That I am. He hesitated before speaking again, his smile faltering. The others assumed you died when the city was taken.


    ukos shook his head. I disguised your escape and then left the pce. With the city about to be upied, there were better ways to fight. I spent the next months ambushing ounder patrols, harassing them as much as possible. Grudging respect could now be read on most of the mens faces. I fight as well as any man you will find. I fight until victory. I fight until death. Your lieutenant could not be safer with my sword protecting him. I only ask for the chance to kill ounders in return.


    Geberic scratched his beard. Maybe we can find a ce for you. How about you start by sitting down and telling us what you did those months, fighting the ounders here in the city.


    A chair was dragged from another table and ukos took a seat.


    ~~~~


    After sunset, Brand retired to the pce room he had imed as his own, formerly belonging to some courtier in low standing; it was small, but secluded and offered privacy. After Matthew had helped him remove his armour, Brand dismissed the boy; once alone, he changed into clothes more suitable for sleeping and turned towards his bed.


    I congratte you on your victory, a voice spoke. Brand spun around, grabbing his sword and pulling it from its sheath. I mean you no harm, Godfrey imed, raising his empty hands in front of him. He was standing in the other end of the room, almost within sword length.


    Brand took the candleholder and raised it above his eyes, letting its meagre light illuminate the space between them. You. I left you in camp.


    Proper introductions are in order, I think. My name is Godfrey, if you do not recall, and I have this as well, the intruder exined, slowly taking a piece of paper from a pocket. He advanced a few steps, cing it on the small table in the room, and retreated again.


    Sword still pointed at Godfrey, Brand approached the table, put down the candle, and picked up the paper. It was so worn, the writing upon it was barely legible. Squinting his eyes in the bad light, Brand frowned. You im to be a servant of the Highfather?


    I work with him, yes.


    Are you here to investigate the temples?


    I am here to lend aid as I can, Godfrey answered. Which has already served you well, I might add.


    Your information was appreciated, but it does not grant you leave to enter my chambers unannounced at night.


    Appreciated? You have turned the tide of this war because of it, Godfrey argued.


    We destroyed a supply train. Of little consequence in the grand scheme of things, Brand said dismissively.


    Ah, but you did not destroy it. You left the water for the ounders, and a few dayster, you sleep in the pce of Tothmor.


    Brands brow furrowed deeply. Take care, or your next conversation is with the hangman. The rope around your neck will keep you from uttering false usations.


    I did note to speak usations, only information, Godfrey dered. To your benefit as before.


    Speak quickly, then.


    You cannot stay in Tothmor, waiting to be besieged. You must move against the ounders in Polisals or Lakon. Here is what I know, Godfrey told him. The garrison at Lakon has three and a half thousand Anausa infantry.


    They are the ones in red robes? Brand asked.


    They are, Godfrey confirmed. Another five hundred levies and two hundred Zhayedan, their cavalry. Theirmander is courageous, almost rash, but not a fool. The streets of the city are tense with numerous shes between the citizens and the soldiers, leaving the ounders nervous and hoping to be reinforced soon. They are well provisioned, being the destination for any supply trains arriving from the Reach.


    What else?


    Polisals has a garrison of one thousand Anausa, one thousand levies. They do not have any cavalry. Deemed the least important city to defend, it is under themand of the least trusted lieutenant. He is overconfident in his own abilities. There were riots in the city some weeks ago, which was brutally oppressed, and Polisals has been quiet since. The garrison is well stocked on food and water, though less so in terms of equipment.


    Brand gave a slow nod. Very useful information. If it can be trusted. He raised the tip of his sword slightly. How do you know this? How can you know that Lakon is where reinforcements arrive when the ounders initially arrived from the east?


    We will speak again, and I shall reveal more, Godfrey promised with the corner of his mouth curled upwards.


    You will reveal everything in time, I agree, Brand muttered. Guards! he yelled. Intruder!


    Godfreys only response was quickly stepping forward. Brand raised his sword in defence, but he was not the target; reaching for the candle on the table, Godfrey extinguished it with his fingers and plunged the room intoplete darkness.


    Brand struck out with his sword, using the t of the de, but hit only air. He advanced, finding only furniture in the dark. As the door was flung upon, light streamed in from the torches in the hallway.


    Sir! shouted the guards, confusion erupting as several of them attempted to enter the small space.


    Enough! Brandmanded. There is an intruder in the pce. Find him!


    The guards dispersed with crity, raising the rm. As for Brand, he buckled his sword around him and threw a cloak around his shoulders. Leaving the pce, he walked to the Order keep and found an empty bed in the barracks. If any of the soldiers found it odd that the first lieutenant should sleep among them, they did not raise any questions, and Brand slept soundly through the night in theirpany.


    ~~~~


    The next morning, Brand woke to Geberic standing over his bed with a scowl. A word in private, my lord?


    You may have two, Brand spoke magnanimously. You can walk with me back to my chambers.


    The two men left the keep to cross the pce grounds. They were barely out of earshot before Geberic began speaking. When you told me I could go into the city yesterday, I assumed that you meant you stayed inside the pce walls, he fumed.


    I am not responsible for your assumptions, Geberic, his master said cidly.


    You walked around on the streets alone, the man-at-armsined. What if you had been assaulted?


    I was surrounded by Order soldiers everywhere, Brand countered. I am quite safe in daylight. Night time, on the other hand


    I heard, Geberic grumbled. Just now as I woke up from one of the men. Why didnt you wake me? I am supposed to guard your safety, and hearing about this from some foot soldier is embarrassing enough, not to mention the impliedughter that I am not doing my duty.


    You have my sympathies, Brand spoke with a t voice as they walked inside. However, I cannot see what more could have been done to keep me safe deep inside the pce.


    You will quit sleeping alone, I presume, Geberic scowled. Ill get a room for you in the keep.


    I slept quite well in the barracks, his master replied.


    Like amon soldier? There was uproar in Geberics voice. And me, I suppose I should sleep on the floor in front of your bed like a dog.


    Geberic, it was a jest, Brand said mildly. Arrange it as you wish.


    Very well, he spoke, mollified. Theres something else. A Kings or Queens de, both I suppose, wants to join your retinue.


    What is known of him?


    The names ukos, the soldier exined. Troy speaks on his behalf and says hes honourable. I also tested his mettle, and I am not ashamed to say he beat me with little trouble. I had one of the knights fight him afterwards too, and he held his ground with ease.


    I trust your judgement. Have him equipped and find a ce for him.


    I will, milord.


    They reach the chamber where Brands belongings stilly scattered. Inside, they found a confused Matthew.


    You, where have you been? Geberic spoke brusquely.


    Here, Matthew replied, looking around with a dazed expression. Ever since I woke up.


    You mean you just woke up, Geberic growled. Youve been of no help to your master.


    But


    Enough talk! the man-at-arms yelled at the young sergeant, who almost jumped. Brand was already busy dressing himself, looking elsewhere, though a smile yed at his lips. Help your lord with his equipment, and stay by his side like a proper sergeant should! Ill be back, Geberic muttered, leaving the room and the boy standing in a stupor.


    Matthew? Chain shirt, Brand gently reminded him, making him snap to attention. Within moments, the lieutenant was appropriate attired as a knight of the Order.


    ~~~~


    Ascending the tower of the Order keep, Brand knocked and walked into Williams room without waiting for an answer.


    Enter, William said dryly, lying on his sickbed. Brand gave a wry smile in reply.


    How is your health?


    I will be ready to ride in a day or two, the captain imed.


    Liar, Brand dered with another smile. But at least you have the strength to lie, so you are not at deaths door.


    I never was, came a grumbling response.


    I have given our situation some thought, the lieutenant spoke next. We should march against Polisals, as soon as we can.


    Their garrison has not been weakened as was Tothmors, William objected. We do not have the men to storm the walls, and engaging in a lengthy siege will leave us far too vulnerable.


    Agreed. Which is why we must lure them out of the city and destroy them utterly on the field.


    Spoken with ease, done with difficulty, the captain retorted. Why would they meet us on the open field? Since we cannot take Polisals by storm or besiege it for long, they need only wait us out.


    They do not know that, Brand smiled slyly. All they will know is what we wish for them to know. Trust me. The ounders will meet us in the open.


    William sat silent in his bed before he leaned back. Very well. We will march soon.


    You mean I will march soon with the army. You will stay, the lieutenant ordered his superior.


    Give me a few more days, and I will be ready.


    William, Brand said sternly, we can argue for an hour that you should remain behind to regain your full strength, also allowing you to handle matters here in Tothmor, or you can agree to it now and save us both the time.


    Brief silence followed. Fine, came the resigned response.


    I will need a good lieutenant to lead the cavalry, however.


    Sir Vilmund was first on the walls, William coughed. He is of the right mettle to spearhead a cavalry charge.


    Brand nodded. As you say. I will leave in a day or two, as soon as the new recruits can be relied upon to garrison Tothmor. He walked over to the window to gaze outside at the circles, as they stretched out below.


    Tell me every detail of the battle once you are back.


    You have my promise, Brand dered, his attention still outside the window. He extended a hand through its opening and began tough.


    What is it? asked William, straining from his bed to turn and look.


    It rains, Brand exined, ncing at William andughing louder. Can there be any doubt left that our endeavour is blessed by the gods? He turned his attention back outside, watching as people flooded onto the streets with anything they could find to trap the precious liquid.


    ~~~~


    Two dayster, Brand deemed the Order army ready. Besides replenishing the ranks and ensuring the city would be properly garrisoned, other preparations had also been made. Ten prisoners among the ounders had been selected who spoke the Mearcian tongue well and thus would allow the Mearcians to speak with the ounders in Polisals if need be. The usual train of provisions was gathered along with supplies for siege assaults. The stormdders that had been used to conquer Tothmor were disassembled and put onto carts in full view of the prisoners.


    Like a coiled rope, the army began marching out from the first circle, uncoiling itself to be a long, straight line down the mountain and through the city gates. Their progress was watched by both the citizens as well as the recruits manning the walls. In the case of the former, their behaviour seemed timid but encouraging with the asional outburst of support at the departing soldiers. In the case of thetter, the new soldiers stood on the walls and towers of Tothmor with muted expressions, openly wondering when they might be marching out to face the enemy.

 Chapter 67: To the Spear Be Bold

    Chapter 67: To the Spear Be Bold


    To the Spear Be Bold


    Polisals


    Twelve hundred Order soldiers marched west to circumvent Mount Tothmor, heading north afterwards. In the far distance could be seen the Weolcan Mountains; under their shadowy Polisals, their destination. The army moved swiftly, being only lightly encumbered. Other than the most necessary supplies, it brought only wooden logs to fortify the camp each night and to build siege equipment with. Anything else that would normally have made the camp into a small town of its own with cksmiths, tanners, butchers, and many other craftsmen, had been left behind. There were no horses either or knights, no fences or rudimentary stables raised for the night. This was the primary reason why the army brought such few supplies, as feed was not necessary, and the need for water was greatly reduced.


    Apart from being scrapped for anything not deemed an absolute necessity, the army was distinguished by another unusual feature. It brought along a number of ounder prisoners, all of whom could speak Nordspeech. They were chained by the hands, allowing them to walk normally, and all of them linked together and fastened to the supply carts. Each night, they were brought inside the camp and their chains connected to a thick pole while kept under guard.


    Geberic, known as the first lieutenants man, personally supervised the prisoners and the watch kept on them. With William remaining in Tothmor, Brand was the acting knight captain, thereby indirectly enhancing Geberics authority. Although thetter was not an Order soldier, the men obeyed him readily, and any order spoken by Geberic concerning the prisoners was quickly adhered to.


    During the day, the pace was kept swift, preventing the ounders from doing anything but focus on the march. When break was held, they were forced to sit, restricting their view of their surroundings, and they were forbidden from conversing with each other. At night, Geberic made sure their chains were secure and no attempts of escape were possible.


    Despite these precautions, it could not be prevented that the ounders listened to the soldiers talking, asionally picking up bits of information. Geberic did his best to prevent such urrences, but useful drops of knowledge trickled through nheless.


    Even worse were the events of the fourth night when Polisals was but a few days away. The army was making camp, and in spite of Geberics vignce, a fatal mistake concerning the prisoners were made. The palisades had not yet been raised when the ounders chains were removed from the carts to be fastened to a wooden pole. As this was happening, Geberic appeared, inspecting the soldiers on duty. This left a brief moment in which the prisoners chains were loose. They were quick to seize the opportunity. Slipping the chains from the rings around their hands, the captives leapt into action, rushing out of camp. As the fortifications had not been erected yet, there were no immediate obstacles in their path. All ten of them ran north, pushing men aside and bolting towards the north. Cries of rm went up, and the chase was on.


    ~~~~


    Some hourster, past midnight, Geberic sought out his master. We captured three of them, and four were killed. The remaining three must be making their way towards Polisals, he spoke quietly, even if none were present in the tent but a sleeping Matthew.


    Good, Brand nodded. That should do it. Tomorrow, send a message to Sir Vilmund. The rearguard caught sight of one of his men yesterday. Tell him to keep greater distance.


    Very good, milord, Geberic acquiesced. He left, whereas Brand went to bed with a satisfied expression.


    ~~~~


    A few dayster, a couple of ounders reached Polisals. Their clothes were little more than rags, they were exhausted to the point of losing consciousness, and their feet were torn andcerated from having run a great distance in ragged shoes. Once they had been given water, they were brought before Jenaab Dalir,mander of the city. They news they brought were dire. They confirmed that theck of missives from Tothmor was because the city had fallen to the Mearcians. In a surprise assault at night, they had seized the city. One of their knights had even in a shadow warrior in singlebat, prompting fear to infect all who listened. Worse, the Order now marched against Polisals. Their army was not great and did not even have cavalry, and they did not seem prepared for a lengthy siege. Their only purpose could be a surprise assault such as the one against Tothmor, where the Mearcians had seeded against all odds.


    Dalir summoned his advisors. Some argued in favour of preparing for a siege; if the garrison couldst the winter, reinforcements would surely be sent from the south eventually to attack Tothmor and relieve Polisals. The fear of deception spoke against this; the Mearcians had found some way to take Tothmor against a much greater garrison, using some manner of deceit. Polisals was their city originally; what if they knew of some secret way inside?


    Others thought that unlikely; there had been no sign of this so far, not even when the Hthians had rioted and there had been skirmishes in the streets. When the city had fallen to the ounders some months ago, there had been nothing to indicate secret passageways then either.


    This was but one possibility; the city was full of traitors against the Godking. One man in the right ce, opening a gate, could be enough to let the Order flood inside and take the city.


    Dalir spoke little, but his face conveyed many emotions. Confusion and uncertainty were chief among them, followed by dismay, though asionally, anger could suddenly re up at the mention of these deceitful Mearcians marching against him.


    In the end, the call for resolute and decisive action took precedence. Rather than sit like cowards behind the walls, risking some kind of subterfuge, Dalir would lead the Godkings soldiers against the Order army. Being half as many as the ounders and with neither side possessing horsemen, the Mearcians rash overconfidence would be turned against them.


    ~~~~


    Two dayster, the Order army stood arrayed on the ins south of Polisals. Heavily outnumbered, none was kept in reserve. Behind the battle lines, Brand sat atop his horse with only a small band of men surrounding him, two of which were not even warriors. Themander exuded confidence, even in the face of the ounder army that took position opposite them. Twice their number, they held a good number of Anausa infantry back to serve as reinforcements, and still their ranks stood deep and heavypared to the Order, whose lines were stretched thin to match the length of their enemy.


    Despite this, the knight captain showed no signs of uncertainty. With the advantage heavily in favour of the ounders, he had ordered his soldiers to stand fast and wait for the enemy to charge, letting the ounders suffer the disruption of ranks that inevitably would follow when rushing forward.


    To the north, Jenaab Dalir watched the Order army holding position. As the sun slowly began to climb the horizon and there was no sign of change, he gave the order for his army to march forward. Less than a mile separated the two forces; tension, anticipation, fear, and a myriad of other emotions began to seep through the ranks on both sides.


    At first, the opposing army was little more than blurred colours in the distance. All too quickly, the image sharpened and the individual soldiers could be distinguished. Their armour and weapons became visible. The dust kicked up by their feet could be seen swirling around their legs.


    The ounders stopped. The Anausa took their bows from their backs and began shooting volley after volley. In response, the Order soldiers raised their infantry shields and waited out the barrage. Realising the futility, the captain ordered his men to put away their bows and close the distance.


    The ounders began a quick march. Soon, the individual features of each face could be determined along with all the expressions that had not changed since the soldiers first began to approach their enemy.


    Less than three hundred yards separated the armies. The Anausa and their supporting levies broke into a light run.


    At a hundred yards, they began the sprint.


    At fifty yards of distance, the Order soldiers responded by surging forward as well, adding momentum to their defence against the ounder charge.


    For the Godking! For the Star!


    The mour of voices was reced by the sound of steel. Cries of war turned into cries of death. Blood sprayed like fountains and was greedily drunk by the dust on the ground. Everywhere, men suffered and died.


    ~~~~


    Typically, amander would be surrounded by a retinue of his best warriors, both for protection and as an elite fighting force to bring to battle. Thanes or the like. Brand had an old greybeard, a former Queens de, two longbowmen, a sergeant too young that he should ever have been allowed into the Order, a bard, and a scribes apprentice. The only person who did not seem out of ce other than Brand was the Order soldier acting as his ensign and horn blower. Had the location been different, they would have been mistaken for an acting troupe.


    Each man was in his own state of mind. Geberic sat passively on his horse. ukos watched the battle with eyes that were narrowed, containing suppressed anger. Nichs was idlymenting on the battle as it unfolded to Quentin, who gave only muted responses. Matthew was eagerly watching everything and loudly remarking on all that he noticed. Troy was whispering different lines, constantly rearranging the verses, looking for anything with particr heroic or tragic quality that he might turn into song. Egil, bearing the brunt of Matthews remarks, was keenly observing the fighting, doing his best to understand the game of chess ying out before him. The bannerman was eating a pear.


    As for Brand, he constantly shifted his attention between looking behind him and inspecting the spectacle in front of him. The ounders had put their levies to the east, so despite their fewer numbers, the Order infantry easily held the right nk and were even gaining ground. Inferior in equipment, training, and experience, these peasant soldiers were simply no match against the professional warriors fielded by the Order.


    The left nk to the west was a different matter. Before Brands eyes, the Anausa were pushing forward. With the terrain affording neither side any advantages and both types of soldiers being equal as warriors, it was a question of who had the heavier armour and the greater numbers. With their great shields and Nordsteel chain shirts, the Order could im the former, but it was not enough to outweigh that for every soldier of the Star, two were fighting for the Godking. Constantly, gaps were threatening to appear in the lines of the Mearcians, and the men-at-arms in the back ranks were hard pressed to plug them. Defeat was slowly, but surely approaching for the Order army.


    An hour of fighting passed. Hundreds on both sides had already fallen; although the battle was not in their favour, the Mearcians made the ounders pay for each step taken towards victory. With the fighting being this hard, it promised tost all day and into the night, whittling both sides down until none would be left standing.


    A sigh of relief escaped Brand, breaking his confident expression momentarily. Gazing back, a cloud of dust could be seen approaching from the south. Soon, a new sound joined the noise of steel breaking and men dying; hundreds of horses were riding north, their hooves thundering against the earth.


    ~~~~


    All eyes in Brands group turned back, watching the progression of the cavalry. Led by Sir Vilmund, known for his impetuousness in battle, the hundred and fifty knights were riding as swiftly as they could without exhausting their mounts before joining the fight.


    The t ins meant that the riders approach were hidden behind their own soldiers, shielding them from the ounders. Only when they veered to the right, describing a semi-circle to allow their assault into the nk of the enemy, could their arrival no longer be concealed. There was not time for the ounders to shore up their ranks in preparation; the wedge of knights rammed deep into their lines, all but disintegrating them. The peasant levies, already under pressure from the Order infantry, broke and began to flee.


    With a smile, Brand watched the battle turn in his favour; around him, hispanions exchanged excited remarks.


    ~~~~


    Although it was toote to stop the charge of the knights, the ounder captain sent his reserves to the eastern lines. The Anausa speedily moved into position, keeping the entire nk from falling apart. Faced with enemy soldiers superior to those before, the advance of the Order infantry was halted, and bitter fighting erupted once more. Meanwhile, the momentum of the knights had ended, and their disciplined charge had turned into chaotic skirmishes, especially as some of the horsemen began to chase the fleeing levies.


    Captain, Geberic spoke quietly, nodding towards their left.


    I see it, Brand spoke curtly.


    After sending his remaining troops into battle to support one nk, the ounder captain had realised his enemys weakness on the other and decided to exploit it. Riding forth, Jenaab Dalir and his personal guard swiftly reached the battle lines westwards, acting as shock troops against the weary Mearcians. Their ranks threatened to copse; they were already straining under the relentless assault from the Anausa, who in turn were encouraged by the presence of theirmander. In resplendent, gilded armour and astride a ck stallion, Dalir was an imposing sight, and with his retinue, they were cutting their way through the Order soldiers.


    Signal the cavalry to pull back, Brand ordered his ensign. Thetter nodded and took the horn hanging around his neck, blowing two short notes. Nothing happened except that more of the knights broke away to pursue the fleeing enemy. Signal again, Brandmanded impatiently. The bannerman sounded the horn, but it did not appear to have effect. Matthew, the young captain barked, find Sir Vilmund and tell him to reinforce the left nk. Now!


    Matthew nodded and gave half a salute at the same time, galloping away.


    Geberic, ukos, stay on my nks. You, Brand continued, looking at the archers, clear a path for me as best you can once we are in the fray. His men gave curt nods, preparing their weapons. Grabbing tight hold of his shield, Brand ced the reins in the same hand and drew his sword. His spurs sent his horse into a slow trot, soon followed by the others, leaving only the bard and the scribe behind.


    ~~~~


    It was afternoon; the battle hadsted several hours, and with both armies carving slowly through the other, the ughter promised to continue many more.


    Reaching his army, Brand saw that the left nk was all but torn apart. The lines were broken or simply gone in most ces, and only pockets of resistance remained on the extreme left. Spurring his horse into a gallop, the captain charged directly into the enemy, followed by his guards.


    The first couple of ounders fell swiftly, but the shock of his assault wore off, and a spear took his mount, making Brand tumble to the ground. Quickly, Geberic and ukos dismounted as well, taking up position on either side of him. The longbowmen leapt to the ground also as their bows were toorge to be handled on horseback. They sent their arrows flying, thinning out the horde of ounders surrounding the captain and his men. Despite their efforts, it was obvious that the line could not be reformed; the red-robed soldiers had broken through their ck-d counterparts. Instead, Brand set a course through the throng of enemies. Dalir in his magnificent armour on his steed, the plume of his helmet visible even in the confusion of battle, served as waymark.


    Geberic was hard pressed, barely able tond blows, and only the aid of the archers behind kept him from being overwhelmed. ukos was in his element on the other hand, felling ounder after ounder and asionally clearing an enemy from Brands path as well. Thanks to the strength of his arm, the young knight reached his target.


    First, Brand shed at the front leg of the horse, making it fall forward and throw its rider to the ground. Dalir was swiftly on his feet in response, and the twomanders now faced each other. Already a sea of red threatened to swallow them both as the Anausa rushed forward to save one captain and kill another. Caution long since abandoned, Brand leapt forward and struck.


    Had warriors of lesser skill been by his side, Brand would have been surrounded and in, but disdaining their own safety, ukos and Geberic kept the ounders at bay. Arrow after arrow flew, affording them the asional moment of respite, though nothing longer than that. And none of them could intervene in the fight that Brand was embroiled in; it had been his choice to recklessly strike against Dalir, and it was only he who could finish it.


    Sweat pouring down his face, Brand did not seem in any position to aplish this. His opponent was among the elite of the ounders with the weapon training that followed, and his armour, not merely ornate, was heavier and thicker than that of the Anausa; it scorned every blow by Brands Nordsteel de, and the knight could not find an opening.


    Suddenly, he stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. Eagerly, Dalir moved forward to seize the opportunity; in his haste, he did not notice that Brand had fallen in a manner that kept his legs crouched beneath him. As Dalir was almost in reach to strike, Brand was on his feet again. He trapped his enemys sword with his own shield, just for a few moments, but long enough. Unable to free his sword and protect his right side, Dalir was defenceless against the next attack that came. Summoning his strength for a terrible blow, Brand hacked his weapon into the other captains neck, finding the smallest of openings where the armour met the helmet.


    Pulling his sword back, a spray of blood followed. Dalir stood still, life leaving his eyes. Brand hacked again and again until the head came off. Thrusting his sword into the ground, the knight grabbed the plume of the ornate helmet. It was so well fitted that as Brand pulled the helm up, the head inside did note loose, but stayed inside its shell.


    He is dead! The enemy captain is dead! Brand shouted, hoisting the decapitated head of his foe into the air. With his height and long arm, the veracity of his words were in to see for those nearby; the nature of the helmet left no doubt as to its owner. Mearcians encouraged, ounders discouraged, the former fought harder and thetter less. The cry went up on both sides in bothnguages, announcing the death of Jenaab Dalir. The standstill was broken, the Anausa began to take flight, and the Order soldiers gave pursuit. At first, it happened slowly, like pebbles crumbling from a tower; then came the avnche, the tower crashing down, the entirety of the army abandoning battle.


    Wounds on his body and crimson colour on his armour, Brand stood surrounded by his men, breathing the blood-soaked air greedily. It seemed to take him a while to remember the ghastly trophy in his hand, and he finally dropped it, picking up his sword instead to clean it and sheathe it. Looking up again, he found the soldiers of the Star staring at him.


    Fist beat against chest repeatedly. The blood of his forbear was invoked in a murmur, until it was broken by a roar. Dragonheart!


    There was a moment of silence before it was repeated by all the drakonians nearby. Dragonheart! Dragonheart!


    The chant continued, gaining strength as the men of Adalrik bestowed this epithet upon their captain, the ekename given to the boldest of Sigvards line. Surrounded by soldiers, by loyalty, by devotion, the youngmander stood victorious on the field of battle, his field of battle, and epted their praise. In this moment, he seemed invincible.


    ~~~~


    The mounted knights pursued the enemy, felling as many as they could. The infantry took care of their wounded, collected equipment, and buried the dead. The price of victory was steep. A quarter of the Order footmen weremitted to the earth; the same number was too badly wounded to fight, and time would tell how many would recover fully.


    With these basic steps taken and the knights returned, Brand marched the remainder of the army to Polisals. What was left of the ounder garrison was given a simple choice. If they surrendered, their lives would be spared. If the Order was forced to storm the city, every single one of them would be put to the sword. After an hour of deliberation, the gates were opened and the oundersy down their weapons. Polisals, the central city of northern Hthiod and the key that unlocked the salt mines of this region, was free.

 Chapter 68: Solstice Gifts

    Chapter 68: Solstice Gifts


    Solstice Gifts


    Tothmor


    Some ten days after departure, the Order army returned to Tothmor, having left a small force behind to guard Polisals along with those most severely wounded that they might heal and return to the army in their own time. Thus, it was with severely diminished numbers they entered the streets of Tothmor, and the cold weather kept many indoors; still, they returned with victory and news of liberation, and joy was finally returning to the city of circles. There were exceptions; some with dour disposition looked at the few Order soldiers and wondered what would happen once the ounders woke from their winter slumber and retaliated.


    With their fewer numbers, what remained of the army could be quarteredfortably in the first circle, so the entirety marched up the mountain to enter the pce district. On the steps into the keep, Brand was met by William. You are looking hale, the lieutenant smiled, and on your feet.


    I congratte you on your victory, William replied, grasping the other knights arm. All of you, he raised his voice, allowing the soldiers to hear. You have fought well and brought peace to the oppressed. Hthiod owes you a debt. He spoke quietly again, directed only at Brand. Let us talk inside.


    They entered the keep, walking up the tower to reach the marshals chamber that William upied. The smell of blood and sweat was gone, reced by crisp winter air. Sitting on a chair was Baldwin, oiling his own and his lords weapons. My lord, the squire eximed, standing up. Wee back!


    Keep at your work, Brand replied cordially with a wave of his hand, and the boy sat down again. The lieutenant went to the map of the Realms on the nearby table, indicating northern Hthiod with his finger. Another step taken.


    Your stratagems have proven their worth, William granted. I notice the cost was steep, however.


    There are four hundred men in Polisals still, Brand exined. At least half of them will join us eventually.


    We are still hard pressed for men, not to mention arms and armour. I will make further attempts at recruitment, but we cannot expect to reach much beyond our original two thousands, the captain dered.


    It will have to do, his lieutenant argued. We should not move until the Raven Days have passed, which gives us more than two months to replenish our force.


    Unless the ounders are already marching against us. Both their eyes fell upon Lakon in southern Hthiod. They have the numbers to challenge us, and the risk of being besieged, being imprisoned in this city is as great as ever.


    I trust that our rapid advances will make them cautious, Brand said confidently. They are more likely to await reinforcements and face us with greater numbers.


    That seems spective, William argued. We know too little to estimate their intentions and actions.


    Weck for knowledge in general, conceded hispanion. We will need to send scouts across the wall eventually. We need to be forewarned if more ounders are arriving from the Reach.


    Agreed. The Hthian knight paused briefly. I have never heard of any of my people entering that ce. Death and dust is all that awaits you, they always said.


    The ounders are men, nothing more. The Reach may be hostile to us, but nothing worse than what we are dealing with in Hthiod, Brand imed self-assured. We should resume interrogations of our prisoners, however, with an aim towards understanding the home of these ounders. Where are their cities? What size armies do they field beyond what we have faced?


    Who is their king? The question came from Baldwin, making both knights suddenly turn their heads towards him. Someone must be ordering the ounders to invade us. I would like to know who is putting us through all of this.


    Brands mouth curled upwards. I as well. The implication of mirth disappeared from his face. There is nothing more dangerous than not knowing the enemy you fight.


    We saw that at Sikyon, William muttered darkly. I have never before seen so many ranks of bowmen, fighting as infantry when needed. I could never have imagined it. Their arrows darkened the sky.


    We will not make such mistakes again. Gods willing, when springes we march upon Lakon and finish this campaign, Brand swore.


    Tonight, however, it is the eve of solstice. A good meal is prepared for our conquering heroes, William informed his lieutenant. Tonight, we celebrate. Agreeing with this sentiment, the other two present in the room followed the captain to the dining hall in the pce.


    ~~~~


    The Realms of Adalmearc celebrated winter solstice in different ways, but regardless of location, it involved food and drink; in peaceful years, Hthiod was no different. With the current war and the recent siege, however, provisions allowing celebrations in Tothmor were limited, and the inhabitants spent the evening in the style of the northernnds with small gatherings at home. Many also went to the temples of the third circle.


    Having suffered disproportionately to anyone else, the priests and priestesses had not made much progress in restoring their shrines. Not a single whiterobe remained in Tothmor. The other orders had cleansed the temple to Hamaring of the defilement that had taken ce, but otherwise left it bare for when new whiterobes might arrive from Heohlond. Until then, any worshippers prayed in an empty space, surrounded only by bare walls.


    Even with men and women of the cloth present, the other temples did not fare much better. The hitherto lush gardens of the greenrobes had been torn up, their sacred tree been felled and used for firewood, and the earth had been heavily salted to make it little more than a desert. It would take years if not decades of careful tending before the soil might sustain growth again. The same had been done to the herb garden at the temple of Idisea. Their stores of healing supplies had already been spent due to the siege, but books and parchments for teaching the healing arts had been destroyed.


    So the story continued for each of the temples. The bull pen at Egnil had been burned and the bronze bull statue smashed to pieces along with the gilded drinking horns; in their zeal, the ounders had not even spared the barrels of beer brewed by the priests, nor imbibed them, but simply toppled them to let the drink spill in its entirety.


    The defilement was worst at the temple for Rihimil, as if the ounder priestess had particrly enjoyed causing sacrilege in this ce. Blood from human sacrifices was everywhere, seeped into the floor and walls. While the bells of the other temples had been left alone, the ounders had gone to the trouble of cutting them down here and destroying them as well.


    To the faithful in Tothmor, their ces of worship were barely recognisable. It was not merely awe of the divine that kept the behaviour of the supplicants subdued this solstice.


    When ukos visited to the temple of Hamaring, he left a handful of silver marks upon its bare altar; even if there were no priests to ept the sacrifice, others followed the former de to pay tribute. The gods would still be watching, now more than ever, as some expressed it. Going outside, ukos crossed the gate square. It was already evening, but on solstice eve, the district gates remained open all night. Although fuel was scarce, torches were lit here and there, lighting the main streets. Staying in the circle of temples, ukos steps steered him towards the establishment known as The Pork and Pepper.


    Few people were in themon room, giving ukos plenty of options where to sit. He nodded to the tavern keeper, who greeted him with familiarity.


    Ale and food, the warrior exined. Soon enough, a tankard of drink was ced in front of him along with a bowl containing a stew that was mostly water with some leek rings floating near the top and chunks of questionable meat. ukos looked at it with little enthusiasm, but dug out a couple of marks nheless. There were plenty more in his coin purse; after the battle of Polisals, Brand had been generous.


    Grateful, the owner scooped the coins up and left ukos to eat and drink. He filled the spoon and had a taste. With slight dismay on his face, he took a sip of the ale, though that did not alleviate his disheartened expression. With a faint sigh, he grabbed the spoon again.


    Enjoying your dinner? The question was spoken with scorn and made ukos look up. Speaking to him was Nikos, one of his formerpatriots.


    It is not bad, ukos imed. Good to see you in one piece, he added tentatively.


    Is it? sneered the other man. You certainly didnte looking when you had the chance.


    ukos put the spoon down. I thought you were all dead. I heard about Philemon and Andreas and figured it was the same story for anyone else.


    Aye, same here. I thought the ckboot bastards got the rest and only I survived, Nikos exined, anger slowly rising in his voice. Imagine my surprise when I am told an old friend of mine is walking around, alive, dressed in good clothes, throwing silver around at the temple. He looked towards the food on ukos table. Your purse seems to be full.


    If youre hungry, I can buy you something to eat


    I dont want anything from you, knowing where that silver came from, Nikos spat. You wont buy forgiveness from me as easily as you bought it at the temple.


    ukos eyes narrowed. What are you saying?


    Its bleeding obvious. We walk into a trap. Dayster, here you are, fine clothes and eagles in your purse, eating and drinking. You des, Nikos spoke with disgust. Let the king die, abandon the queen, sell us ordinary folk out like the traitorous


    This time it was Nikos who was interrupted; ukos fist hit him on the chin and sent him straight on his back. Standing up so quickly that his chair fell to the ground, the former de loomed over the other man. Ive killed more ounders than a spineless toad like you could lick your tongue at. You care so much about stew and silver, you can have it. With the rest of the tavern watching in stunned silence and his target lying paralysed in fear, ukos emptied the bowls content on top of Nikos and threw a silver piece onto his chest. Then he grabbed his mug of ale, drank it in one draft, and walked with heavy strides out the door. Behind him, Nikos picked up the silver piece and wiped the stew from it.


    ~~~~


    The fifth circle had its share of watering holes, though finding any that still had anything in store was nigh impossible. Such was also the case at Guys tavern.


    I have nothing to serve you, the owner called out from the kitchen as he could hear someone entering.


    Just a ce to sleep will do, came the answer.


    I suppose that can be arranged, Guy granted, entering hismon room. Godfrey! Of course,e in,e in! He closed the distance between them and stood a little apprehensive before the traveller, giving him a pat on the shoulder. You are back and alive! After you left, I wondered many times how you fared.


    I fared a long distance and back again, Godfrey smiled wearily. You and your son?


    We are both well, thank you.


    Good. Godfrey nodded a little. I sometimes worries if I should have told you to flee the city, regardless of the risk


    We survived. Nothing to worry about anymore. I havent forgotten what you did for my boy, either. A tinge of gratitude entered Guys voice.


    In that case, I shall rely on your memory to ask for a bed. I am tired of sleeping in walls, Godfrey exined with a wry smile.


    I never quite understand you, but a bed, I can provide, Guy promised. And you are just in time to join our solstice meal.


    No need, no need. You must be hard pressed as it is.


    It would not be right to have a guest in my house who does not share our meal this night, Guy argued.


    Well, if you insist, I ept gratefully, Godfrey decided.


    Keep your gratitude until you taste it, Guyughed and led his guest into the kitchen, where his son was already filling an extra te.


    ~~~~


    The following day, activities resumed as normal. The returning soldiers were added to the garrison and put on watch duty, freeing up the recruits for further training. The open spaces between the pce and the Order keep in the first circle were put to this use, practising formations. Brand was also present, watching the soldiers train, though the actual instructions were yelled by men-at-arms acting as overseers. The first lieutenants gaze was idle, his mind elsewhere.


    A knight approached, nked by two Order soldiers. These men told me you wished to speak, he dered. By his tone of voice and expression, it was obvious he did not care for being summoned this way.


    You did not heed the signal given in battle, Sir Vilmund, Brand spoke coldly, only looking at the knight as he pronounced his name.


    What? Vilmunds eyes narrowed.


    My bannerman sounded the horn to no effect. He rode into battle to inform you, yet still you did not retreat as Imanded, Brand exined with the frost almost palpable in his voice.


    I neither heard nor received anymand to retreat, the knight imed, his tone matching Brands. We were scattering the enemy, he defended himself, it was the heat of battle.


    My bannerman swore he reached you and told you, yet you did not pull your men back to reinforce the left nk. The usation in the lieutenants words were clear.


    Then he lies.


    I have no reason to believe he does.


    The word of amon soldier means nothingpared to the word of a knight, Vilmund argued.


    It does to me.


    What does it matter? he sneered. Victory was achieved, and your own actions on the nk made you the champion of these men you hold in such high regard. He shot a disdainful nce at the soldiers by his side.


    It matters, Brand raised his voice, because your failure to obey could have cost us that victory. Regardless of the oue, you failed in your duty.


    I will not be lectured about the duties of a knight from someone hardly old enough to wear the spurs, Vilmund fumed, turning to leave.


    Sir Vilmund, Brand called out, now speaking loud enough that all nearby could hear, you did not perform your duty as is expected of any warrior of the Order. You will be punished.


    The knight turned back, incensed. How dare you! How dare you impugn my honour! I demand satisfaction!


    You demand nothing! Brand roared. I am yourmander, and you have no right to challenge me for the sake of honour! He nodded to the soldiers standing by. Seize him and strip him to be flogged!


    Vilmunds protestations became unintelligible screams as several men grabbed his limbs, forcing him to the ground on his stomach. He continued to squirm and resist, giving them some difficulty, but they were enough to keep him subdued while also removing his surcoat, chain shirt, and the tunic underneath until only his cotton shirt remained.


    They pulled him up again andshed him to nearby poles that were normally used for training. Another soldier appeared with a whip in hand.


    You cannot do this! cried Vilmund. I am a knight!


    Which only makes your crime worse, Brand dered. He nodded to the soldier, who dealt out tenshes, each causing a rift in the shirt and drawing blood. The spectacle was witnessed by the men in silence. At the first hit, the knight called out in pain; he was mute for the remaining nine.


    When the whipping was done, the soldiers released Vilmund. He staggered for a moment but regained his footing. Ay brother approached with salve and bandages; with a sneer, the knight pushed past him and disappeared into his quarters inside the pce.


    ~~~~


    The council chamber of the pce, where once the oundermander had conducted his business, was now used by Brand when needed. Sitting in the chair that had seated a queen and an ounder before him, the lieutenant was dictating a letter to the young scribe by his side. After victory had been achieved, the army of the Order marched upon Polisals. The ounder garrison surrendered, opening the gates of the city. Three hundred were captured in addition to those taken prisoner after the battle. All of northern Hthiod is now freed of the ounder scourge.


    Furiously, Egils quill scribbled over the paper.


    That is all, Brand dered, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. Have it sent to the quartermaster at the Citadel. Make a second version containing the same, except you leave out all numbers concerning our army, dead, wounded and so forth. Have that one sent to the town criers in Middanhal to share the news of our victory with the citizens.


    Yes, milord.


    The lieutenant rose to his feet and left the room without further words. Returning to his chamber, hey down on his bed, still wearing armour and surcoat, and closed his eyes.

 Chapter 69: We Pray

    Chapter 69: We Pray


    We Pray


    Tothmor


    Weeks after winter solstice, Brand went to the temple for Rihimil. Despite his donation, little progress had been made as it was still under the care of a single acolyte. All the rubble had been cleared, but the damage done to the interior remained, there was no bell in the tower, and the altar remained as bare as ever. Although few others came to worship, this did not dissuade Brand, who knelt and prayed by the red-stained marble. As he finished and rose to his feet, another person appeared from deeper inside the temple. Might I have a word?


    In the dark, it took the lieutenant a moment to recognise the speaker. As he did, he stepped back on instinct, his right hand moving across to grasp his sword hilt.


    My hands are empty, Godfrey dered, raising them in front of him.


    Yet you alwayse like a thief in the night, Brand pointed out.


    I am mostfortable dressed in shadows, it is true, the traveller admitted, but I deal only in knowledge. Which has served you well, I might add.


    Everything you say is tainted by your suspicious actions, Brand retorted. An honest man has no need to scurry away.


    What use am I in chains? If you are to defeat the ounders, you need the intelligence I bring. Without it, you have no idea of the forces arraigned against you in the Reach.


    That is what scouts are for, the lieutenant spoke dryly.


    They can only tell you so much. You need spies to determine the size and location of their armies, the weak points of their city defences, and any vulnerabilities that can be exploited.


    The ounders are almost driven from Hthiod. This campaign will be finished soon, Brand imed confidently.


    Will that satisfy you? What of when the ounders return?


    This made Brand give Godfrey a sharp look. What do you know?


    Nothing at this moment, except they will return eventually. If all you do is beat them back, they need only recover their strength to try again. If you want to eradicate this threat, Godfrey said forcefully, you must invade, as they invaded you. You must gather knowledge, as they did of you. You must exploit their weakness, as they exploited yours.


    What weakness?


    Adalrik is torn by war, but the ounders are simrly troubled. This is why some of their troops were withdrawn along with their bestmander, why reinforcements have not yet shown. You have an opportunity to strike, Godfrey urged.


    Or lead my army into a trap beyond the Langstan, Brand argued.


    All I have told you has been true, Godfrey countered. Question your prisoners, learn what truths you can from them. You will find my words confirmed and that the iron grip of the Godking has cracks.


    The Godking? Who is he?


    You will meet him in the Reach. Consider my words until we speak again, Godfrey told the other man, retreating back into the temple. Brand did not pursue but stood in contemtion with his eyes resting upon the wall painting of Rihimil behind the altar, damaged to near unrecognizability by the ounders.


    ~~~~


    Fear of spies meant that the outer gate of Tothmor was closed even during the day except for Order soldiers and those with explicit permission from the captain of the army. This changed as a procession approached from the heath. Numerous riders in front with banners, ornamented carriages afterwards, and a great following behind. For the citizens of Tothmor, it was a splendid sight to behold and deeply emotional as well; it was the return of Queen Theodora and her consort to their home and their subjects.


    At the front rode several des with King Leander and Count Hubert right behind them. Several more des were found along around the carriage carrying the sovereign. The window in the door was open, allowing her to look out and her people to look at her. Young and beautiful, she smiled and waved, provoking many outbursts of affection and loyalty from the crowd. If any bore her ill will for having left the city towards the end of the siege, it was not expressed.


    Reaching the first circle, the procession halted. On the pce square, the captain and lieutenant of the Order army stood waiting. They gave a bow before the king as he dismounted and another as the queen appeared from her carriage and joined them.


    Wee home, Your Majesties, William spoke with a faint smile.


    Thank you for preparing the way, Theodora replied graciously. It seems a lifetime ago that we parted ways in Adalrik, yet we find ourselves home far sooner than any could have presumed. You have our gratitude.


    The praise must go to my first lieutenant as well. It is his mind that is the architect of our victories.


    The famous Sir Adalbrand, Theodora dered, prompting the man to incline his head. All the Realms speak of your aplishments, in this war and the previous.


    I merely serve as needed, Brand replied humbly.


    It is our luck that you finally serve in Hthiod, then, Leander scoffed. As I recall, this army was meant to have arrived in Tothmor in the summer, not winter.


    Everyone looked at the king with expressions ranging from surprise to dismay or, in some cases, confusion. Not all knew that this army had originally been on its way to fight the ounder invasion when Richard and Brand had led it north across the mountains instead, making it absent at the Orders defeat at the battle of Sikyon.


    Brand stiffened. The rebellion in Adalrik had to be contained, or there would not be an army here or there.


    Of course, sir knight, Theodora spoke soothingly. If you will forgive us. We are weary from our journey, she added with a nce at her husband.


    Understood, Your Majesty, William said, retreating a few steps to clear the path towards the pce entrance.


    Where is Troy, mumbled Leander, gazing through the crowd, as he and his wife moved forward.


    Behind them, Hubert was greeted by Baldwin. The former wasposed in his demeanour, greeting Baldwin with a courteous nod; thetter could be seen attempting to control his exuberance in response, but eventually he gave in, and a torrent of words was released as the young squire told the old count everything that had passed since they parted.


    ~~~~


    A feast was prepared to celebrate the return of the queen and king, bringing with them the return of something resembling normalcy to the court of Hthiod. The queen and her king sat in their seats in the dining hall once more. Count Hubert nked the king and had the Ordermanders by his other side, also allowing him to speak to his admirers, Baldwin and Matthew, who stood behind their respective masters. By the queens side sat her mother and her aunt. The seat after that was left empty out of respect of the court seer.


    I cannot imagine choosing a new court seer, Theodora whispered to Leander with a nce towards the vacant chair.


    Even worse, this me woman managed to take her own life, Leander replied viciously. His voice was slightly slurred. Of all the prisoners taken, we barely have any of worth. He emptied his cup and gestured to a servant.


    We have a few officers to execute, at least, the queen considered. The rest can be sent to the salt mines.


    I will enjoy my meals more knowing where the saltes from, the king smiled.


    Conversation halted as Troy entered the hall and walked to its centre. In his hands, he held his instrument and began plucking its strings.


    I did not have the heart to tell him no, Leander exined apologetically to his wife.


    With a clear voice that did not falter, Troy performed On the Field of Blue, not missing a single word. With its story of Erhard defeating the ounders, every member of the court was ted. They listened as the devious enemy invaded, and in a terrible battle, slew the king of Hthiod and shed its noblest blood. They followed the news of this disastrous defeat to Erhard, jarl of Ingmond, where the Order forces were gathering in response to the invasion. They cheered as Erhard decided to take action immediately, gathering any avable warriors and riding hard to ambush the ounder army, still drunk with victory. They shouted Erhards famous line to his men as they faced an enemy with far greater numbers, the jarl telling his men to take courage and to the spear be bold. Frenzy seized the audience when Troy sung of the victory won on the field of blue. As Erhard was offered the kingship of Hthiod, establishing a new line that now hade to Theodora, the apuse would not take an end.


    Is Troy good? whispered Leander.


    He must have practised. Not much else to do in camp, I guess, Theodora smiled.


    We should send him on more campaigns. He may end up being worth his keep, the king jested, apuding with the rest.


    With Your Majesties approval, Troy called out as the cheering finished, I have been working on a new bad, never performed before. While it is not quite finished and still needs further verse, I should wish to perform it on this auspicious night. The almost stunned royal couple gave their assent, allowing the bard to continue.


    When night has crept into thisnd,


    When fiend and foee cross the wall,


    Then who shall stand with sword in hand,


    Then who will answer call?


    Dragonheart,e forth!


    Your people pray,


    Dragonheart,e forth!


    Hear what we say,


    Dragonheart,e forth!


    Were led astray,


    Save us, we pray!"


    Is this another version of that song Troy was always singing? the king questioned. That bad about some vige and dragonborn.


    By his side, Theodora frowned. I do not think this song is about Prince Sigmar.


    Was he not the Dragonheart? Who is this, then? asked Leander confused.


    The tune chosen by Troy caught the ears of its audience. The third time the chorus was sung, many of the courtiers joined in, and more and more eyes turned towards Brand. If any before this evening had not known about the battle of Polisals and the ekename bestowed upon the youngmander, they did so now. As Troy finished to great acim, he bowed before the high table. The monarch pped politely, while her consort seemed to have no response. As for Brand, he gave a barely perceptible nod in recognition. However, hourster when Troy retired to his chamber, he found a small purse of silver waiting for him.


    ~~~~


    The morning after, the knight Vilmund returned to his chamber. He had been lightly exercising his swordy, albeit wearing only a leather tunic above his shirt. Once alone, he removed the tunic with stiff movements and a few grunts. Through his shirt, he ran his fingers over the healing wounds upon his back. The fabric was dry, meaning they had not opened up despite his movements.


    A servant entered the room. Pardons, milord, he quickly spoke. I came to empty the firece. I thought the room would be vacant.


    Just get it done, Vilmund spoke brusquely, inspecting his armour hanging upon a rack in the room.


    The servant moved to the hearth, but did not begin his work. You are Sir Vilmund, are you not? I hear you led a fearless charge at Polisals.


    That I did, the knight replied absentmindedly.


    Now they are singing songs of the battle already.


    Vilmunds back stiffened. Not a very good one. The verse reminded me of Song of Sigvard, and the tune was like any bad, he spoke dismissively.


    Many seemed to like it, the servant imed, finally bowing down to clean out the fire pit. Everyone is singing about the Dragonheart today.


    People are fools, Vilmund sneered, hanging his sword belt upon the rack.


    You do not share their opinion of Sir Adalbrand, milord? came a cautious question.


    He is a brat, the knight spoke with scorn. Barely old enough to fight, yet givenmand. It galls me to my very core that the Order is led by such an upstart.


    No doubt you would be a worthymander, the servant ventured to say.


    Without doubt, Vilmund agreed magnanimously.


    Perhaps it can still be so. The man crouching by the hearth kept his attention upon his task, but his voice grew cautious. If Sir Adalbrand is defeated, people will know the truth and seek a worthier leader.


    The knights eyes turned narrow. What are you saying?


    The servant continued his work, but his movements were slow and produced little effort. If a battle were to be lost under hismand it would be easily done. A message in the right ce to reveal the necessary knowledge, for instance.


    You mean tell the enemy of our movements, our tactics? Vilmunds voice was fraught with suspicion.


    I am but a simple servant. What would I know? But if a great knight such as yourself deems it wise


    The man was still looking inside the fire pit and did not realise what was happening until it was toote. Vilmunds fists closed around his neck and smashed his head against the wall. You think I am a filthy traitor? bellowed the knight, releasing his anger with numerous kicks. You think I can be spurred to dishonour? He took a pause to spit before resuming. You can exin in the dungeons why you advocate treason, you worthless dreg!


    When the guards arrived, summoned by themotion, the servant was already beaten to a bloody pulp.


    ~~~~


    More than two months passed after the return of the exiles to Tothmor, with winter reaching its end and a new year its beginning. There was thaw in the air, the frost receding. Winter rains had filled the water storages, and food provisions had arrived from Korndale, spurred by the resuming of salt deliveries from Polisals. The smiths had been busy hammering new arms and armour. As the Raven Days ended and a new year began, the Order army left Tothmor and began its march south.


    Its ultimate goal was Lakon, though before that it would meet with the armies of Korndale, sent by King Adrd under themand of Prince Aqu. Thebined forces could match the ounders in Lakon andmence the final liberation of Hthiod. The king himself along with his trustedpanion, the count of Esmarch, and a contingent of des, was leaving the queen to participate in this final leg of the campaign.


    Beyond that, the Order brought many recruits to fill the gaps in its ranks. There were barely any men left in Tothmor with the age and vitality to bear arms, and the city seemed a domain of the elderly. The reasons why these youths joined the Order were many. Some did it for silver, others for revenge or for justice, many to seek opportunity far away. Among their number was Hugh, the disgraced son of Hubert.

 Chapter 70: Sins of a Father

    Chapter 70: Sins of a Father


    Sins of a Father


    Lakon


    A week outside of Tothmor, the Order and the Dalemen reached each other. William, Brand, Leander, and Hubert apanied by knights and des rode in front of one army to meet Prince vius of Aqu,manding the forces of Korndale. With numerous riders and banners, the two parties met on the heath between Tothmor and Lakon.


    Prince vius, William greeted him, nodding in the saddle.


    Sir William, I presume, the prince replied. Your Majesty, Count Hubert, he continued. You must be Sir Adalbrand.


    A pleasure, Brand spoke with courtesy. The reputation of vius Ironside precedes the man.


    As does yours, Aqu replied with a growl.


    You seem alone? William questioned. While apanied by a sergeant and othermon soldiers, the prince did not seem to have any lieutenants or warriors of noble birth with him.


    We have brought as many as we could spare, as requested by my king, vius informed them gruffly. But I had to leave someone to defend my own city in my absence. Let us continue rather than waste time. We have a war to finish. Without dy, the prince turned his horse and entourage, leading them south.


    With nces exchanged between theirmanders, the Order army followed suit. Brand slowed the pace of his horse until he was next to Hubert. Did you meet the prince Aqu in Korndale?


    We did, the count confirmed.


    Is this brusque behaviour typical of him?


    It is, Hubert nodded. Though he was against Korndale sending its armies abroad, which could exin his disposition towards us, he added as an afterthought. On Huberts other side, Leander gave a scoff.


    I see, was all that Brand spoke in reply, spurring his horse forward to ride at the head of the column.


    ~~~~


    With two armies marching together instead of one, the pace slowed for several days until some manner of cohesion was achieved. About a weekter, Lakon loomed in the distance. It was the secondrgest city in Hthiod and a centre of trade that connected the rest of Hthiod with Florentia in Korndale, allowing primarily salt and olive oil to flow in one direction with meat and fabric going the other way. Its importance was such that thete king Everard had married his own sister to Count Stephen of Lakonia, tying his support to the throne. This had been before it had be apparent that Everard would never have children with his wife, paving the way for Stephens daughter Theodora to be made heir.


    The queen was not present, but her champions could gaze upon the city in her stead. Due to the great traffic Lakon saw, it had numerous gates, weakening its defences. Despite this, the oundermander had decided against facing the Order on the field. Whatever the strength of Lakons walls, the ounders were relying upon them. With quick orders, Williammanded a fortified camp to be set up, advanced siege fortifications to be constructed to ensure the enclosure of the city, and siege equipment to be assembled in preparations for assaults.


    ~~~~


    A curious sight was assembled on the table in Williams tent. Rolled up letters were arranged to form a circle with chess pieces ced in various patterns.


    This gate is closest to the castle and can expect swiftest reinforcements, the knight captain of the Order exined, revealing that the paper and pieces served as a crude representation of Lakon. I suggest we feint an attack here, drawing their spare forces in this direction, before we begin our actual assault on the opposite side.


    Seems wise, his first lieutenant concurred. Especially


    I will notmit any troops to storming the city, vius dered tly.


    You havee simply to watch? Brand asked acerbically.


    I havee, the prince spoke with scorn, because of underhanded dealings between you and my king!


    Confusion spread among those present for the war council. I have never exchanged a single letter with your king, Brand defended himself, his voice wavering between disbelief and anger.


    Yet his desire to court your favour, Sir Adalbrand, vius said with disdainful emphasis on the name, is why my soldiers are sent here when they are needed to defend my city!


    Your usations are baseless, Prince vius, the knight replied coldly. I have no knowledge of your kings intentions, and the notion that any king would court my favour is ridiculous.


    My lords, we are gathered to discuss the assault, William pointed out.


    By all means, make your assault. But not a single Daleman will participate, I swear by all the eyes, the prince dered, turned around, and left.


    From a chair in the corner, Leander gave a snort ofughter. I suppose this concludes the council. He rose and did as vius, forcing Hubert to do likewise.


    The captain and the lieutenant of the Order looked at each other. Our losses will be far too heavy if we are to storm the city with only our men, Brand considered. Our supposed allies have abandoned us already.


    I did not understand his reasoning, but he seems to have some grievance against you. Perhaps you could settle matters with him? William suggested.


    It was he that used me, Brand argued indignantly. I have done nothing against him, yet he is set against me. I see no cause why I should settle anything with him, and regardless, he does not seem inclined to listen to any word I would speak.


    William gave a quiet sigh. I will give the order for our camp to be further entrenched.


    ~~~~


    The days became monotonous. Lacking the men for an outright assault, the Mearcians simply set up a sharp watch surrounding Lakon. Patrols were sent out as well, and supply lines were established under strong escort from Florentia and Tothmor. The Order soldiers were frequently trained by their men-at-arms, but other than that, the soldiers soon descended into games and gambling to fill the time.


    The scouts have returned. As he delivered the news, Brand entered Williams tent. His own sergeant was already there, ying chess against Williams squire with Egil watching. All of them looked up, however, as the lieutenant walked in.


    What did they find?


    Brand gave a shrug. Nothing. The ounders are not manning all the Langstan. They have built a ramp to facilitate easy crossing, which is the part they guard.


    We should set up our own watch, in that case, William decided.


    Already seen to, his lieutenant informed him.


    Good. The thought of the Langstan in the hands of the ounders is grating.


    If the ounders send an army to relieve Lakon, it is less than a week from the wall, Brand began to speak. Not much warning.


    Your point?


    We should send scouts into the Reach. Establish the location of the closest city from which the ounders operate, and extend our sight into theirnds, Brand suggested. Should they attempt another incursion, we might even repel them at the Langstan itself.


    William gave a frown. The men will be reluctant to enter the Reach, let alone traverse it. We will have to enforce discipline.


    I will lead the first patrol, Brand dered boldly. I have already asked for volunteers. Once I return, failure to follow my example will be considered dishonourable. Let shame drive any soldier afraid to do what hismander does. If shame is not enough, thesh will have to do.


    The captain gave his lieutenant a look. That seems many days to spend investigating a wastnd.


    It is but the first step. What good is driving the ounders from Hthiod when they might return any day?


    William gave another frown. You wish to establish permanent patrols beyond the wall?


    I wish to invade, Brand said with conviction. Egils mouth dropped open, and Baldwins hand froze in the air as it was moving a chess piece.


    The captain leaned back in his chair. The aim of our campaign is to see thisnd freed, not the upation of another.


    How many centuries have we suffered the ounders to gue Adalmearc? They struck first, but we should strikest, and with such strength that they never rise against us again, the lieutenant argued forcefully.


    Brand, the other knight spoke quietly, we would need ten times the soldiers we have now just to begin. Half our current forces are not even willing to fight for us currently.


    Brand nodded in agreement. Korndale would need to be actively involved. Given that their king apparently courts my favour, it should be possible. We need support from Adalrik, but that can be won as well. When I return, I will have the knowledge to n the campaign and convince those in need of being convinced.


    Me, first and foremost, William warned his lieutenant.


    If I cannot persuade you of all people, I will know the cause to be hopeless, Brand smiled and took his leave.


    Walking from one end of camp to the other, Brand was almost at his tent when he saw a familiar shape waiting for him. With a wry expression, Godfrey sent Brand a smile. Tell the volunteers to make their preparations, he told Geberic, who had followed him from Williams tent. We depart tomorrow morning. Geberic sent Godfrey a scowl but did as told.


    What did your captain say? asked the wanderer.


    He is reluctant, Brand admitted, but if I can verify your information, we have all the knowledge necessary for a sessful campaign.


    Godfrey nodded. All my intelligence can be trusted, you will see. The map I made is waiting for you in your tent. We will speak again when you return from the Reach, no doubt.


    No doubt. Onest thing, Brand added. If I find anything amiss, or if my return seems in doubt, I have left orders for your death to be excruciatingly painful. You will not be left alone either for a single moment until I have returned, should you consider making another disappearance.


    I expected nothing less, Godfrey smiled.


    ~~~~


    Evenings in the camp were subdued. There was a generalck of firewood; although southern Hthiod could be considered lush in some regionspared to its northern counterpart, much of that were olive trees and forbidden to chop down. With spring having only just begun, the nights were cold without fires burning, and most soldiers remained inside in their tents. The volunteers for Brands patrol were an exception, having spent the day gathering supplies and preparing for departure. The sun had already set when they were done, each seeking his own tent to sleep before the morrow.


    One of the volunteers, who had distinguished himself as a skilled warrior despite being a young recruit, was moving through the dark camp when a voice called out to him. Soldier!


    The young man stopped dead in his tracks upon hearing the voice. He began walking again immediately, but it was toote.


    Hugh, the voice spoke again, this time softly. It belonged to Count Hubert. He was standing between tents, darkening his surroundings and isting them from anyone else still awake.


    The Order soldier turned around with a joyless smile. Father, Hugh greeted the old man, stepping into the shadows to approach him.


    It really is you. I was not sure if I wanted it to be true or not.


    What we want rarely matters, Hugh dered casually. Right now, I want you to turn around and forget you saw me, but I imagine that will not happen.


    Why are you here, Hugh?


    Another thing that does not matter.


    It does to me. The counts face, always expressive of his mood, was painted with anguish. Either you are here to redeem yourself by undertaking a dangerous task.


    That would make for a good story, Hugh spoke with another smile.


    Or the ounders released you from the dungeons and keep you in their employ as a spy.


    If it will calm your spirit, Father, I am not here as a spy. I have sent no reports from this camp, and I do not intend to.


    That seems worse, Hubert imed, for it means you are their hired de.


    I ask you again, Father. The familial term was emphasised. Let us part ways and forget this meeting took ce.


    If your intentions are honourable, surrender yourself. I will plead your case to the king, and you may serve some way to earn your redemption, Hubert urged.


    Upon hearing the royal title, Hugh snorted with derision. The king is my inferior in every way. He would keep me locked up out of spite if for no other reason. This is thest time I ask you, he continued, cing his right hand on his sword hilt. Let me leave without further words.


    Are you running away? Hubert contemted. Joining the patrol to escape to the Reach? No, joining the Order would onlyplicate such a goal. I was right. Your hand has be that of a murderer.


    Hugh bit his lower lip, and chagrin filled his face. You could have let me walk away. Slowly, his sword left its sheath.


    It is hard to strike in camp, and we will not see battle any time soon, Hubert continued his contemtions. But out in the Reach with just a few men surrounding him, you will have your chance at the lieutenant. Is that your reasoning?


    Raising his sword at his father, Hugh gave the smile of a rogue. The ounders know of his skills as amander. They will pay me most handsomely for his demise. All my troubles will end with a single, swift stab of the dagger.


    Hubert drew his own sword and assumed fighting position with such speed, his son barely had time to react, taking a step backwards. I cannot allow that. His voice shook for a moment.


    Father, please. There was an overbearing tone in Hughs voice. I am your son. If you had the heart to see me executed, you would have raised the rm already.


    As my son, responsibility falls to me. If your blood is to stain any de tonight, let it be mine. Gone was any tremor from his voice, any anguish from his face.


    I have beaten you before, Father. I remember vividly the day that I finally surpassed you. If I must, I will do so again.


    Is that all that would hold you back from this terrible misdeed? Hubert stared at his son. Would you only surrender to me if you thought defeat certain, and not because honour, loyalty, justice demand you stay from this course?


    None of those ideals ever served me well, Hugh muttered and struck his first blow.


    Hubert evaded his sons de and retaliated. Fighting in close quarters hampered them both, limiting their movements. Nheless, Hugh took the offensive, pressing his father back.


    Hubert parried each blow. With a countenance that spoke of deep remorse, he struck past Hughs guard andnded a thrust into the younger mans side, swiftly pulling his sword back.


    Hugh stared with disbelief at his own blood on Huberts steel. His mouth lolled open, and his sword fell from his hands. As his body did likewise, Hubert dropped his own weapon to catch his son and cradle his head in his arms.


    You killed me, Hugh stammered. His eyes were already bing void, staring emptily into the night sky.


    My son, my son, the old count cried. All those times we trained. You always wanted to be better than me, so I let you win. I wanted to see you smile, I wanted you to be proud. I should have made you a better man instead, that this moment would never havee to be!


    Hugh could not reply.

 Chapter 71: Where Songs Are Made

    Chapter 71: Where Songs Are Made


    Where Songs Are Made


    Lakon


    Two weeks after departure, Brands patrol returned home. There had been some dy in setting out, as the discovery of Hughs treachery had necessitated investigation into the identity of every soldier going with him. In the end, only drakonians who had been with the army as far back as crossing the Weolcans were allowed to join; the sole exception to this was ukos. At someones suggestion that the venture be abandoned entirely or at least postponed, Brand hadughed dismissively, and the patrol set out almost as nned.


    It was a dirty and dusty band that walked into camp with weary steps, but their number wasplete; not a single man had been lost. Several of them hurried towards the water barrels and drank copiously. It was notmon procedure to be allowed water outside of rations, but Brand gave them permission. Personally, he went to his tent, filled a cup with wine, and emptied it. He scratched the stubbles on his cheeks, the beginnings of a beard, and washed his face in a bowl of water.


    Matthew appeared, bursting with excitement. Only Geberic and ukos of Brands retinue had followed him beyond the Langstan and into the Reach. As the young sergeant began to speak, however, Brand raised a finger to silence him. You may follow me to Sir Williams tent.


    Keeping his questions to himself, Matthew waited patiently while Brand removed the worst of the travel dust from his face and hands. Once satisfied, the knight left, his sergeant in tow.


    William was reading dispatches from Middanhal when his lieutenant entered. The captain threw the letters on his table and stood up, sending an assessing nce over the travel-weary knight in front of him. You seem in good order.


    There was no fighting, Brand exined. They barely keep watch of the wastnd beyond the wall, and we had no difficulty avoiding them. They must be confident there is no need to maintain a watch.


    What else did you learn?


    Some miles directly south, the ounders keep a small post. There is fresh water, and I assume it is the final stop for any army of theirs before crossing the Langstan. There are no defences, and seizing the outpost would be easy.


    Using its water for our army, William nodded. Beyond this outpost?


    There is a city, Brand borated. We came close enough to see its walls in the distance. It would be about a weeks march to reach, I estimate, from the wall. It is small, smaller than Lakon.


    Fortifications?


    Nothing impressive. Not even a keep, I think. Merely walls and a few towers by the gate I could see. It would fall easily.


    There was a moment before William spoke again. A city only a week away from the Langstan. Who would have imagined?


    It is strange, Brand conceded. I saw no fields or other activity to support a dwelling of thousands. There could be on the far side of the city, of course. In any case, the surroundingnd is t with no obstacles, making for an easy siege.


    All we need is in army, William remarked dryly.


    Any luck with Prince Aqu?


    The captain shook his head. Any attempt to change his mind has been futile. In his mind, the rivermen are a greater threat than the ounders. He outright refuses to speak with me now.


    I should go to Korndale, Brand considered. I can convince the king to support our endeavour.


    We will need assistance from the Order, from Middanhal, William argued. Though I am unsure with whom to speak... there is no lord marshal to authorise a new campaign.


    Speak with the quartermaster, Brand suggested. We are not embarking on a new mission. We simply need soldiers and provisions to conclude our current campaign, which he may release.


    That seems dubious.


    The marshals cannot be relied upon, Brand argued. They have done nothing to elect a new lord marshal. Are you willing to wait years until our current heir is crowned and chooses one? What if our new king opposes our campaign? We will have waited for nothing.


    The quartermaster it is, William conceded.


    I could handle that, Brand considered. Travel to Plenmont first and Middanhal afterwards.


    The other knight shook his head. You have enemies in Middanhal. You told me yourself that the lord protector sent you to Hthiod in order for you to be forgotten. I hardly think those same people would be amenable to granting you an army for invading the Reach.


    Brand was quiet momentarily. You are right. He cleared his throat. We cannot have both themanders of the Order leave, however. With Prince Aqu unreliable, one of us has to maintain control of the situation here.


    Not necessarily. With our sight extended beyond the Langstan, we will have fair warning if the ounderse in force. The siege can continue without us, William argued, and if enemy reinforcements arrive, we should pull back. Dy any fight until we have our own reinforcements from Korndale or Adalrik, depending on how you and I seed.


    It seems a risk to have us both leave this army in the hands of others, Brand remarked hesitantly.


    The siege will not be done before one of us return. If battle is to be fought, better we do so with extra men. Sess will depend on Plenmont and Middanhal, William imed. Sir Ewind can handle matters until we return.


    Very well, Brand assented. So be it.


    Before you leave, thetest delivery post had letters and a package for you. I held them here for safekeeping, William exined, handling a bundle to his lieutenant.


    Much obliged, Brand smiled. If you will excuse me. He left the tent, followed by Matthew.


    ~~~~


    Back in his own domain, Brand had his sergeant remove his boots, his surcoat, and chain shirt. Less encumbered, the knight washed himself more thoroughly than when he had first arrived in camp,bing his hair as well. Examining his stubbles once more, Brand let them be and settled in a chair instead to open his letters, both of them from Arndis. Tell Egil toe to my tent soon, hemanded Matthew. I wish to dictate a letter.


    The boy nodded vigorously and left, leaving Brand with his package. It was wrapped in woolskin tied with heavy string, which his knife first cut. Unpacking the soft skin, a book appeared, bound in leather. The golden letters of the title shone as a testament of being newly written. Eagerly opening the tome, Brands eyes lingered on every word of the first page.


    Steps announced someone entering the tent. That was fast, Brandmented, looking up. It was not Matthew or Egil, however, but one of the guards watching his tent.


    Someone named Godfrey ims to have business with you, the soldier exined.


    Brand gave a nod. Send him in.


    d in his customary garb that spoke of long journeys, Godfrey wandered in. Well met, sir knight. Barely back and already reading? he asked with amusement in his tone.


    Imissioned this from the whiterobes before I left Middanhal, Brand exined with satisfaction. <em>Ruminations upon the Art of Governance, </em>by Anselm of Monteau. Cost me eighty eagles, but worth every petty.


    He was an astute fellow, Godfrey agreed.


    Brand turned several pages in, his eyes ncing over the words. <em>In matters of discipline, be not cordial. In matters of generosity, be not stern,</em> he read aloud. <em>The man with reputation for being stern or cordial will either way be admired by some, disliked by others, but a reputation for justice is superior to both and appeals to all.</em>


    You sound like a man who has read it many times before.


    Brand was on the verge of saying something but closed the book instead, putting it away. You are not here to discuss Master Anselm of Monteau.


    I wish to know if your journey proved the veracity of my words.


    The knight nodded a few times. It did. Everything was as you said it would be, where you said it would be.


    Does this mean my impending and painful execution is dyed? He said this with a smile.


    Abolished, Brand granted. Why the Highfather would send a servant into the Reach is beyond my mind to guess, but your knowledge can be trusted.


    I can offer more than that. I will travel to Middanhal and encourage the Highfather to support your campaign, along with any others within my reach.


    I suppose it cannot hurt, Brand assented. With no lord marshal, matters in Middanhal are  unstable. Sir William will also go the capital.


    I will leave soon, in that case, that I might return soon as well. I bid you farewell for now.


    Gods go with you, Brand told him. Once alone, the knight picked up his book again.


    ~~~~


    The other returning warriors were likewise cleansing themselves of the journey and tending to their equipment. There was not a book but a de in Huberts hands, receiving oil, when he had his own visitor. ukos, the count greeted him. I am pleased to see you return.


    My thanks, my lord, the warrior replied. While my de remains clean, it was a tense journey nheless. We learned much of value, and we are prepared to take the fight to the scum of the wastnd.


    I envy you, being among the first to enter the Reach, Hubert admitted. For the rest of your life, you will have a tale to tell that few can match.


    Knowing that Sir Adalbrand ns to return to the Reach, ukos ventured to say, is the reason Ie to see you.


    What is it? The count gave a frown.


    I pledged myself to his service while in Tothmor, fighting by his side at Polisals, ukos began exining.


    Another achievement to your name, Hubert pointed out graciously.


    With the return of our queen, I found myself serving two masters. Travelling here as protector of the king dyed the issue, but it cannot be dyed forever.


    What issue? Hubert asked confounded. You are a de. That has not changed.


    I am, ukos assented. But once ournd is free, our king and queen will remain in Tothmor, I imagine. If I want to fight the ounders, I have to follow the new campaign beyond the wall. I have to follow Sir Adalbrand.


    The frown appearing asionally on Huberts face became a scowl. You would forsake your oath? Only death can release you from your obligation as a Queens de.


    Or the person I am bound to, ukos corrected. My oath is to the king and queen, and they may set me free.


    This is unheard of! Hubert almost leapt to his feet, his sword being flung aside andnding on the ground. A de who wishes to leave the worthiest service any warrior in thisnd could aspire to!


    ukos swallowed, taking a step back. I understand your displeasure.


    Displeasure!


    You trained me, Lord Hubert, and you have always been the ideal to which I aspired.


    Clearly I did not train you well enough!


    But I owe a debt of pain to the ounders, and a debt of failed protection to our people, ukos continued, a storm of emotions shing across his face, though none of it appeared in his tone as he spoke. I can only repay them both by fighting, and the fight lies out there, beyond the wall.


    Is it not enough to serve? The question was flung like an usation.


    Nothing will ever be enough, ukos admitted with a quiet voice. I can never undo the damage done to our city, our home. He paused briefly before he was able to speak again. All I can strive to do is crush the ounders, so they will never be able to spill one drop of blood upon the heaths again.


    Hubert did not reply at first; he picked up his sword instead, staring at the naked de. Sheathing it, he took a deep breath. I have trained many boys over the years, turned them into men. I tried to instil not merely weapon skills but also courage, honour, and loyalty.


    You have been the best master of arms in all the Realms, ukos imed.


    Still, some of my boys went astray. Some of my boys lost their way. Some of them The counts voice had lost its earlier fury, and he seemed to stare into the distance. My boy, he reiterated.


    I am sorry that I have caused you disappointment, the de told Hubert, who turned to look at his former student.


    I remember what you did in Tothmor, the count spoke, his voice growing clearer. You stayed behind to cover our escape. You did exactly as could be asked of any de. You sacrificed yourself to safeguard the ruler of ournd.


    It was my duty, ukos mumbled.


    Hubert exhaled deeply. You made the right choice back then. I will trust your choice in this matter as well. I will speak on your behalf to the king.


    My lord? Surprise was evident in ukos voice.


    That is why you came to me, was it not? Huberts voice had regained its usual brusque nature.


    I thought that if I could persuade you, I could persuade anyone, the de admitted with an inkling of a smile.


    Rogue, the count growled, though without sting in his tone. The queen is not here, but the kings permission should suffice. Meet me by his tent in half an hour. I have another matter to attend to first that will also require the kings attention.


    You have my gratitude, my lord. With a relieved smile, ukos left the tent. Tying his sword by his waist, Hubert did the same shortly after.


    ~~~~


    In the tent he shared with his master, Baldwin was polishing boots. Making the leather shine, he hummed a tune from his old home of Vidrevi, but looked up as someone entered. Count Hubert! he eximed with a smile.


    Greetings, boy, the old warrior spoke gruffly. You are alone?


    Sir William went to speak to the prince of Aqu. Onest attempt at convincing him to join in an assault, Baldwin revealed with a wry expression. I can take you to his tent? He began to put his boots and polish away.


    No need, Hubert told him, sitting down. I am not here to discuss strategy, but another matter entirely. He cleared his throat. I have an issue that gues me.


    I am sorry to hear that, the squire expressed.


    I have no heir apparent to my title and more importantly, my duties. When I die, some distant rtive will im my title unless the queen can find a worthy sessor and see it done without challenge.


    Quite an issue, Baldwin agreed.


    It is not merely politics, Hubert strained to borate. The first count of Esmarch was the brother of King Erhard. His greatest duty was to defend the eastern part of the realm. Ever since then, the counts of Esmarch, the blood of the northern kings have acted as the foremost defenders of Hthiod.


    Impressive, Baldwin nodded, working hard at a particrly bothersome spot on the left boot.


    When Esmarch itself was no longer worth defending There was a lump in Huberts throat he had to clear before he could continue. I became a de to the king. There must always be a count of Esmarch with the strength and honour to defend our realm and our monarch.


    Of course, of course.


    One of my duties is to ensure this legacy is upheld. Rather than leave matters to chance, I have decided to adopt an heir worthy of the task. Worthy to be the count of Esmarch.


    Baldwin looked up. Oh! You havee to speak with Sir William!


    I think Williams path lies elsewhere, with the Order. I havee to speak to you, Baldwin. The old man met the boys eyes with a heavy countenance whose emotions were difficult to determine.


    Me?


    Yes, boy, you.


    But, Baldwin stammered. I am not even Baldwin of Hareik, not until I be a knight. I am Baldwin from Hareik. The next words came with extreme hesitation. My fathers name is not mine to speak.


    Only makes it simpler, Hubert pointed out.


    What about blood of the kings, the first count of Esmarch? Does that not matter?


    One of my useless rtives will have a daughter for you to marry. It will make it harder to challenge the adoption, and the next generation of Esmarch will have as strong a im as any.


    Oh, was all that Baldwin could reply.


    Well, what say you?


    Sure. I mean, I ept, the squire added haltingly.


    Let us put the matter before the king and find that scribe boy also. I should like to have some manner of document signed and sealed, in case one of us has to leave camp soon.


    Very well. With a smile, the boy put his tools aside, following Hubert outside to be Baldwin of Esmarch.


    ~~~~


    The grandest tent in the camp belonged to the king, and its interior was a match for its size. It possessed furniture more luxurious than anywhere else and an ample storage of wine. After his guests had departed, Leander sank down into a soft chair, adjusted a few pillows, and had his servant fill his cup. Once this task had been performed, the servant flittered around nervously instead of retreating as usual.


    What? the king asked impatiently.


    Someone else seeks audience, Your Majesty, came a nervous reply.


    Inform them that I have created a new tax. Adoptions, being released from an oath, and simr requests cost a bottle of spirits. Two if I do not like the person making the request, Leander proimed.


    It is the minstrel, Your Majesty.


    Let him in without paying. Leander waved a hand. Any wine he has wille from my stores anyway.


    I would not refuse a ss, Troy admitted with a grin, walking in and taking a seat.


    I have never known you to refuse, the king imed. I thought tonight we should be drinking the tap from Tricaster. He made some gesture towards his servant, who gave Troy a cup and filled it.


    A fine taste, Troy proimed after having a sip.


    Gets the task done, Leander added.


    Being in an army camp is a great deal more pleasant with abundant amounts of wine. This siege is a lot less dull than when we were quartered by the border to Ingmond. In winter, too, Troy shivered.


    I cannot imagine what thought made these knights want to stay in camp during winter, the king remarked.


    It did allow us to take Tothmor by surprise, the bard pointed out.


    I suppose there is that.


    I do not enjoy the hardships of such a life, but it was valuable. I found inspiration atst.


    To make a song about yet another drakonian, causing trouble wherever he goes. The disdain in Leanders voice was obscured by his slurring, but present nheless. I hope you will find other subjects for your singing soon.


    There was hesitation in Troys voice as he spoke again. I wanted to speak with you about that.


    Something on your mind?


    There is rumour that the Order is nning a campaign beyond the wall, into the Reach.


    Best of luck to them, Leander snorted. It sounds like a fools errand to me, but if they are going to kill ounders, I will not stand in their way.


    I thought I should go with them.


    Leander sat upright, blinking a few times. You? Into the Reach? Armed with a lute?


    I will be travelling with an army, Troy defended himself. First I intend to follow Sir Adalbrand to Plenmont.


    Why? Leanders voice overflowed with disbelief. What good will that do you?


    I can see my mothers homnd, Troy offered, sounding casual. Besides, it is more about staying close to the lieutenant.


    Is he your patron now? Are you casting my friendship aside in favour of this arrogant, pompous fool?


    I stayed with Sir William and the knights those months ago because I thought it would give me stories, something worth singing about, Troy began to exin. I was right. You werent at the battle of Polisals, you didnt see.


    See what? Men butchering each other, and someone else reaping the glory?


    It was a battle for our home, Leander, and it was almost lost. Troys eyes lost focus as memories surfaced. In that moment, he did not panic. He saw what had to be done and did it without hesitation, without concern for himself.


    And earned himself many a bootlicker, Leander added scornfully.


    He is no hound for glory, Troy argued. I know such men, Ive met Count Hubert. Sir Adalbrand, he fought because he had to. He charged the enemy headlong, killing their captain and turning the tide of battle. No man could watch that and remain unmoved.


    It certainly left an impression on you. The kings voice was sullen.


    He is not just a knight or some warrior. He is a leader of men, and he will lead us beyond the wall as the first captain to ever do so since it was built, the bard argued.


    A leader of men, Leander repeated. Unlike me.


    I did not say that, Troy hastily continued. But my craft demands I follow him. I must go where the songs are made, he added, that I may be the one who makes them.


    The king gave a sigh and leaned back in his chair. Enough. I am tired of listening to people. Drink your wine. Troy dutifully did so.


    ~~~~


    Days passed with both Ordermanders preparing to leave, ensuring that the siege would continue in their absence and nning for contingencies. Nheless, an unexpected event urred when a convoy of provisions arrived from Florentia, bringing the post with it. Most were scrolls rolled together without any name written as recipient, as they were military dispatches intended for themanders and always delivered to Brand, but among the scrolls was an actual letter, addressed to him. Not only that, it bore the seal of the Kings Quill upon the strings that tied it together, guaranteeing its origin and that it had not been opened beforehand. With curiosity marked on his face, Brand broke the seal and read the contents within.


    Soon after, Brand sought out William and approached his captain while waving the letter in his hand. The Adalthing is convening outside of time, he informed the other knight.


    Strange, William frowned. Does it say why?


    The noble prisoners from Isarn are mentioned, but more importantly, so is our campaign. The summons does not go into detail, Brand exined, opening the letter to nce at it. It merely mentions that it is to be discussed. My guess is that with our impending victory, they wish to dere it at an end. Use our troops and resources towards defeating Jarl Isarns rebellion for good.


    Quite the stone before our plough, William muttered concerned.


    I should attend. I will exin the opportunity we have and convince the Adalthing to support our endeavours.


    And if you cannot?


    The Adalthing does not have direct control of the Order. The noblemen can refuse to support us, send us neither men nor food, but if they attempt to order us home, we simply ignore them. We still have allies in Korndale and Hthiod to supply us, Brand considered.


    Launching an invasion without support from Adalrik Doubt tinged the captains voice. It seems foolhardy.


    We will both go to Middanhal and ensure it does note to pass, Brand dered confidently. We will seek allies wherever they may be found. I have faith in our endeavour still.


    You always have faith, which leads you to always taking risks, William pointed out. I worry about the day when your luck finally runs out.


    I will give you ample warning ahead of time, Brand smiled. The Adalthing convenes in three weeks. If we are to reach Middanhal in time, we must make haste.


    To this, William agreed. The next day, the captain and the lieutenant left the siege of Lakon, journeying from Hthiod towards the capital of Adalrik.

 Chapter 72: Falling Sands

    Chapter 72: Falling Sands


    Falling Sands


    Middanhal


    The cold winter following the solstice held Middanhal in its grasp. There was no market at the Temple square; anyone forced to be outside spent no more time on the streets than necessary. Despite the frost, the Citadel was as busy as ever, especially in the dragonlords wing. The antechamber was full each day of people seeking audience. Eolf, servant to the dragonlord, entered the room from deeper inside the wing. Master Edwin, his lordship will see you now, he announced. Groans could be heard from the rest as the rotund alderman got on his feet and followed Eolf.


    Entering the dragonlords study, Edwin found Konstans sitting behind a desk with his head buried in papers. Sit, thettermanded without looking up. The alderman, his face exhibiting his usual anxiety and difort in these situations, did as directed. Hearing the chair crack under Edwins weight and still not looking at his visitor, Konstans reached out to turn a small hourss around. Putting it down on his desk, the sands quickly began flowing through. State your case swiftly.


    Yes, milord. Already, droplets of sweat were beginning to form on the aldermans brow despite the cold weather. We  the merchants, that is  are concerned about scarcity.


    Of what? Finally, Konstans turned his head level.


    Salt, first and foremost, followed by meat. Since we cannot cure meat as we normally can, it will soon be scarce. Especially as the same must be taking ce in Korndale, and we cannot expect them to sell their cattle to us as usual.


    Because they will keep theirs rather than risk hunger, the dragonlord realised, nodding his head slightly. Have you not taken precautions? This is your responsibility.


    We have, milord, Edwin hastened to im. We are rationing our stores and seeking other means to avoid any shortage of food.


    So why have youe to me? Konstans nced at the hourss by his side, which had deposited a quarter of its sand.


    Milord, if thew on meat prices is kept in effect, we will have to sell at a loss.


    I doubt that, Konstans spoke with a scoffing sound.


    We will only be able to buy it at exorbitant prices, the alderman continued his im. Furthermore, as we cannot salt it, we must sell it as swiftly as it is butchered. If we are allowed to raise the sales price, we can both afford buying more animals and also dy butchering.


    Not to mention allow for a tidy profit, I am sure.


    Milord, Edwin eximed in a protesting manner.


    Allowing the price on food to soar is not lightly done, Konstans dered. He eyed the hourss that was more than halfway through its journey. Do you have no other avenues to explore?


    The royal treasury could reimburse the merchants for selling their goods at a price, Edwin suggested cautiously.


    What would that cost?


    Who could know for sure? The alderman attempted an anxious smile.


    You would not mention it unless you had calcted the cost to thest copper coin, Konstans imed coldly.


    Nothing above thirty-five crowns, I assure you, milord.


    A month?


    Edwin licked his lips. A week.


    Konstans raised an eyebrow. I want you to write those calctions upon paper and deliver to me.


    Of course, milord. I should hope to leave today with a decision, however, he ventured to say, eyeing the hourss on the table. It would notst much longer. Surely there is no harm in allowing the price per pound to be raised by two eagles? Only in case it bes necessary, he hastened to say.


    Konstans also nced at the hourss. For the next month only. The price return to the fixed amount once the Raven Days have ended.


    Very well, milord, Edwin acknowledged with a bowed head.


    The hourss dropped its final grain of sand. Deliver those numbers to me and seek another audience a week after that. You are dismissed.


    Yes, milord. The alderman rose and gave a bow. Konstans already had his head in the pieces of parchment before him and paid no further heed as Eolf led Edwin out.


    ~~~~


    Although the jarl of Theodstan kept a house in Middanhal as behoved a man of his position, he and his entourage dwelt at the Citadel in spacious rooms that almost constituted a wing of the castle on its own. This time a year, a strong fire burned merrily in the hearth of the parlour, where the jarls sister held court with her friends and attendants. Most of them sat busy with embroidery, in particr the handmaidens, though one of them was reading a book aloud to Theodwyn, who sat with her eyes closed. Arndis was an exception, ying chess against the jarls servant, Holwyn, who was dressed like any other female servant. Eleanor with her customary veil was fiddling with a needle, though not making much progress and constantly pulling up the threads she put in.


    Theodwyn raised a hand to silence the servant reading to her. If that needle does not suit your purposes, dear, I am happy to lend you another, she stated, afterwards opening her eyes to look at Eleanor.


    No need, mydy, the other woman replied subserviently. The needle is fine.


    Then I pray you put it to proper use. This was spoken sternly as an admonishment.


    Of course, mydy.


    Holwyn sent a raised eyebrow at Arndis sitting across her. There should be post arriving today, thetter exined in a hushed voice. Dispatches from Hthiod tend to arrive on the second and fourth Hamarday.


    Personal letters are given lowest priority and distributedst, however, Eleanor eximed, biting her lips immediately afterwards and ncing at Theodwyn.


    Patience is a virtue, the jarls sister remarked without looking at anyone in particr. It is not bing for ady to chase correspondence either. It will arrive when it arrives.


    I am nody, Holwyn admitted with cheek. I could walk to the hall of records and enquire after thetest dispatch.


    A smile appeared on Eleanors face, visible even through her veil, and vanished as she nced at Theodwyn. That will not be necessary, the Hthiandy spoke meekly.


    I wish a handsome knight was writing letters to me from the front, a young handmaiden said with a dreaming voice.


    You wish nothing of the sort, Alyssa, Theodwyn corrected her. Perhaps if your mind was more disciplined, your horse would not resemble a bloated sheep. The reproached handmaiden quickly nced down at her embroidery with flushed cheeks while the other women hid their smiles and giggles.


    I would not mind a letter from a knight such as Sir William, Holwyn dered brazenly, making Eleanor blush.


    That is because despite my best efforts, impressing manners upon you was like trying to dye ck wool. It simply would not take, Theodwyn told her pointedly.


    I am happy to be a ck sheep, Holwyn grinned.


    Besides, the jarls sister continued, there will be no news of interest from Hthiod as long as it is winter. War is like a bear. It hibernates. Nothing will be happening until it is spring again.


    And then the bear goes in search of bees? Do bees mean knights in this image? Holwyn asked with an innocent look.


    Do not be silly, girl, Theodwyn scoffed.


    I suspect that in this gathering, knights are more like honey, Holwyn mused.


    Enough, Theodwyn eximed, though there was no real edge in her voice, and her servant did not look chastised. It may sound like a pretty tune, knights in war, but the truth is they are doing nothing but sitting in camp and whiling away the time. If you need further encouragement to think of something else, let me tell you that an army camp is a breeding ground for vermin.


    This immediately made several of the women look uneasy, in turn giving Theodwyn a satisfied expression. Holwyn immediately seized upon this new topic. You refer to rats scurrying around inside the tents? Lice on every mans head? Or is vermin another of your images and it really refer to the camp followers, the women of dubious


    Thank you! This time, Theodwyns voice was sharp enough to cut steel, and any signs of mirth upon herpanions faces evaporated. Instead of entertaining silly notions or making a mockery of our soldiers, you should pray for them. The ounders are ten times as many as the Order, and we should be happy that winter prevents any battles from being fought. No news is good news.


    The mood became sombre. But surely, Alyssa spoke cautiously, our knights will win no matter who they fight?


    Of course, Theodwyn reassured her. They need only await reinforcements, and victory is certain.


    Therein lies the problem, Arndis remarked absentmindedly, her hand hovering over a chess piece.


    What do you mean? asked Eleanor.


    All avable Order soldiers are already in Hthiod. Sir William and my brother cannot expect any further.


    Levies can be raised among the noblemen, surely, Eleanor argued.


    Any left have been sent north against Jarl Isarn, Arndis countered, moving her hand to another piece. None of the southern lords willmit troops to fighting in Hthiod as long as Adalrik is caught in war as well.


    What of the mercenaries hired by our lord protector? Theyll finish the war against Isarn swiftly and afterwards, they can be sent south, Holwyn suggested.


    Arndis shook her head. They are too expensive for Jarl Vale to use against the ounders. Once Jarl Isarn is defeated, they will either be dismissed from service or remain here in Adalrik to strengthen his rule. Why use his own gold to fight the Orders battles?


    You think he would abandon Hthiod? Eleanor sounded shocked. He is the lord protector, ruling on behalf of the prince. When the prince is king, Hthiod will be his subject. Thus, Hthiod is the responsibility of the lord protector as well.


    Perhaps, but it is not the responsibility of the jarl of Vale, which I think weighs more heavily, Arndis replied, finally deciding which piece to move. Game end.


    ~~~~


    Eolf, servant to the dragonlord, appeared in the antechamber once more. As before, the sight of him raised eyes and hopes. He extended a gesture towards an old man in undyed robes, who rose to follow the servant, leaving disappointment behind.


    The quartermaster hase to see you as bidden, Eolf told his master.


    Have a seat, Konstans offered, adding a few scribbles to the paper before depositing his quill in its inkwell. I have summoned you to discuss the execution of your duties. Or rather, the dereliction of same.


    The quartermaster of the Order, well into his seventies, gave a sardonic smile. At least you offered me a seat before hurling insults at me. I may be old, but my mind is stronger than my knees, and neither need any rest. He remained standing with a defiant expression.


    In other words, it is not because you misunderstand your duties, Konstans spoke coldly. You simply refuse to attend to them appropriately.


    I have served the Order in my position for nigh on twenty years. The reply was spoken with an icy tone equal to the dragonlords. In that time, I have not let one bag of flour go missing, one dagger be unounted for. If there is the slightest discrepancy with the men or material supplied for any campaign of the Order, it will not have happened at the Citadel.


    Yet supplies are not going north the siege camp at Grenwold, but south towards Hthiod. Even though you were specifically instructed to do so.


    I serve the Order and its marshals. You have no authority to instruct me. There was sneer in the old mans voice.


    You give me no choice but to have you forcibly removed from your position, as you are not fit to fulfil it, Konstans threatened.


    Who will remove me? Your sell-swords and hired brigands? An attack on me is an attack on the Order itself, here in its very heart. I cannot imagine you would be so foolish. The quartermaster gave an impatient sigh. I have duties to attend to. I take my position most seriously, Lord Konstans, as does every one of the Orders soldiers in the Citadel.


    Konstans watched with frustration as the other man left, anger leaving a mark on his face. Eolf, he called out curtly. The servant quickly materialised. Tell the captain of the Citadel I wish to see him tomorrow. No more supplicants for the next hour. The servant bowed and made himself scarce again.


    ~~~~


    Unlike the permanent quarters for the dragonlord, there were no such provisions for the position of lord protector, being so rarely needed. Instead, the jarl of Vale had been given chambers that a guest of his prominence would typically receive at the Citadel. In another contrast to his brother, Valerian was not receiving petitioners; any seeking the lord protector were told to request audience with the dragonlord instead. This allowed the jarl solitude for the most part, surrounded by his books and ledgers. The only other people in this wing of the castle were his family, the most trusted servants, and a strong contingent of his personal guards.


    The jarlinna, pregnant for several months now, had on numerous asions expressed her desire to live elsewhere than the cold walls of the Citadel. As the jarls house in Middanhal had been nearly destroyed during Isarns upation, it was not a possibility. While Valcaster would be more pleasant during the winter months, Valerian had expressed his fervent wish that his wife give birth in Middanhal and not in Valcaster, where news would take weeks to reach him. As a consequence, Alexandra made her difort known to her surroundings often, thereby ensuring they shared her plight and further prompting Valerian to seclude himself in his study.


    Seated in that room, the jarls quill was scribbling away, as it was on any other day. Numbers werepared, added and subtracted, underlined and finished with a swirl. Sometimes the jarl was humming to himself, sometimes his face made a frown as numbers and figures did not initially align, but they always yielded to him once he finished his calctions.


    There was a knock on the door. Enter, Valerian called out; he enjoyed his solitude to such an extent, there was not even a servant in the room with him to attend to his needs or answer the door. A young woman entered. In terms of facial features, she had little inmon with the man sitting behind the writing desk, taking after her mother instead. Despite the dissimrities, they were father and daughter. Valerian looked up. Yes?


    How are your numbers? Valerie asked, slipping inside and closing the door behind her.


    Bigger thanst year, her father replied with uncharacteristic dryness. But you came here to ask me something else. What do you need?


    I was considering taking Alexandra to the Temple. See what the greenrobes have left in their stores. The winter is making Alexandra look pale, and a little red mixture for her cheeks would brighten her appearance. If you approve?


    Fine by me, the jarl muttered, his head already bent over the papers again.


    A change of surroundings might be beneficial for her as well, Valerie continued.


    Take a carriage. It is too far for her to walk, her father instructed her.


    We shall, she promised, opening the door to the study. Although her query had been answered, she remained in the doorway, however, hesitantly. I was wondering, Father.


    Yes?


    What will happen to the Isarn prisoners?


    The sound of Valerians feather pen scratching over paper ceased. He looked up. They are traitors and rebels. The only punishment is execution.


    For all of them?


    Perhaps leniency will be granted to those of lesser status. Those who captained this rebellion will lose their heads, Valerian stated with a t tone of voice as if discussing his calctions.


    I see. Valeries voice was equally toneless.


    Is something the matter, my child? He deposited his quill into its inkwell.


    No, Father.


    Are you nervous about the wedding?


    No, Father.


    There is no shame in that. You will not only be a wife, but a queen. This is the best possible match I could ever hope to secure for you.


    I know, Father.


    Good. Valerian smiled, taking hold of his feather pen again, soon scribbling numbers again.


    ~~~~


    A youth in rich garments walked brashly into Konstans study, almost pushing Eolf out of the way.


    Prince Hardmar, milord, the servant quickly muttered, stepping aside. I will inform the envoy he must wait.


    Konstans raised his head but did not have time to speak before the prince did. I make this appearance as a courtesy, which I will not repeat. I am your prince, and you will not summon me in this fashion again. Hardmars voice was swinging like a pendulum between angry and icy. Behind him came his guard, Berimund, captain of the kingthanes.


    Konstans sheathed his feather pen in its inkwell. I made a polite request, my prince, that you would see me. I am attending to matters pertaining to your kingdom, after all, and in service to it. In contrast, Konstans spoke with politeness, although tinged with distance.


    Precisely. My kingdom. In the future, you wille to me.


    Of course, my prince, Konstans conceded. If you will allow me to address the matter at hand.


    Yes, be swift about it.


    Nothing about Konstans demeanour revealed that he was affected by this show of condescension. I thought we should determine the date for the wedding.


    What wedding?


    Between yourself and my niece, the dragonlord exined patiently. The end of the Raven Days seem a fitting time for a celebration, and we can formalise the union between our houses.


    Hardmar frowned. That is far too soon. We have not even announced it at the Adalthing.


    The Adalthing is six months away, Konstans pointed out. We can have the town criers announce it within the next few days. That gives an engagement period of almost three months.


    Three months, Hardmar scoffed. I am the future king! You would disgrace me with such a short engagement?


    That was not at all my intent to imply, Konstans argued calmly. A wedding between the two most powerful houses will signal stability and bring to mind thoughts of a prosperous future.


    I will announce my betrothal to your niece at the Adalthing, as is proper, the prince dered. If she cannot wait that long, she is free to marry a man of lesser worth, Hardmar added with a sneer before turning on his heel and marching out. Berimund avoided looking at Konstans and followed his master in leaving.


    Konstans watched the prince leave. Taking a deep breath, he dipped his quill in ink and continued writing.


    ~~~~


    The number of Order soldiers in Middanhal was considerably below full strength, having yet to replenish its ranks after most of the men marched south to Hthiod for the campaign. The garrison still manned the Citadel and walked the streets of Middanhal, but the sentinels on the walls were spread thin, and the patrols were infrequent.


    This left plenty of room in the barracks for soldiers wearing tabards of other colours. Some had the golden spirals on red that signified the House of Vale. Others wore colours and symbols hitherto unseen in Middanhal, such as a green surcoat upon which a crimson bird of prey spread its wings. These men were the mercenarypany known as Red Hawks. Suchpanies whose only loyalty was to gold were viewed with disdain in Adalmearc, and the Hawks had sailed from as far away as Alczar to serve the jarl of Vale and bolster his forces. Despite their base being beyond Adalmearc, many men of thepany hailed from the Seven Realms, however, making for a motley band, and the Nordspeech of the Realms was heard among them as often as the trade speech of Alczar.


    Most of the Hawks, including their captain, had been sent north for the siege of Grenwold Castle, but a few hundred remained in Middanhal to support the lord protector. They spent their time as all soldiers did, exchanging silver for beverages, games, andpany. The cold weather might temper their desire to leave the Citadel in search of these distractions, but it could not supress their boredom indefinitely.


    In one of the barracks belonging to the Red Hawks, three of their colours returned in the afternoon after such an outing. st this weather! one of them eximed, shaking his cloak. Already, the snow was melting into their clothes, prompting them to quickly remove their outer garments to hang them by the firece. All three of them had the appearancemon to natives of Alczar and warmer skies.


    Deep, rollingughter was heard from one of the tables. You southern boys wouldntst a day on the isles. This promation came from a man carving a piece of wood in an almost idle fashion. His skin had an earthly tone to it, much like the men he addressed, but with several coloured markings, which along with the gold ring in his right ear revealed him to be a Dwarf; his other notable features were a neatlybed beard and a missing left ear.


    The isles, repeated the first soldier while making a face. You keep running your mouth about how tough life is there, yet I never see you step one foot away from the firece.


    Of course, the Dwarfughed on. Thats what life on the isles taught me. Dont go outside in bad weather, you fool!


    Its going out into the snow or staying in here with you, Jorund, one of the other soldiers pointed out.


    Fair point, Jorund admitted, cing his woodcarving on the nearby table and collecting some of the shavings on the ground to throw them into the fire. Say, while youds were out, did you get some proper brew to bring back?


    Just get some from the kitchen, someone suggested, warming his hands as Jorund began feeding the mes.


    Thats weaker than the milk I had from my mothers breast, the Dwarf retorted with a sour expression.


    You remember the taste? This was spoken with mild surprise and almost no hint of mockery.


    Youre right, Gawad, that does sound odd, Jorund assented. Maybe its your mothers milk I remember.


    The other soldier, same height as the Dwarf but with a thin, ck beard and both his ears intact, gave a vague smile. Keep talking that way, and Ill keep this small keg of ale to myself that I brought back from town. He spoke Adalspeech with a strong ent yet otherwise wless.


    Knowing you, that beer was brewed by a horse, I bet, Jorund grinned.


    Close, Gawad admitted. Apparently, it was brewed by a bull.


    The Dwarfs grinsted a moment longer until he caught on. Bulls brew? You got this from the geolrobes?


    If thats what theyre called, Gawad spoke with a shrug, acting as casual as Jorund was getting excited. He pulled away his cloak from where it was hanging, revealing a cask underneath it. A bulls head was branded into the wood of the small barrel.


    Gawad, you glorious creature. Ill pay you one silver a mug, Jorund promised. He was already licking his lips.


    Maybe its all for me, the other soldier considered. He was quickly surrounded by several men, however, joining the Dwarfs in demanding or even begging that the keg be opened without dy. Soon, every tankard in the room was full.


    Jorund let out a long sigh of pleasure after the first sip. Now this is how you brew it, he smiled. Everyone else agreed.


    Did you hear any news? someone asked of the men who had gone outside. Hows our boys faring?


    Siege is slow, came the reply. The man speaking was thin, but looked lean and tough; along with Gawad, he had organised the acquisition of ale, and currently he sat counting the silvers this had brought him. Im guessing our new masters dont want to pay us for our dead, so theyre not going to storm them, but starve them out.


    Sieges are the best, came a content sigh. We get pay for being employed, but dont have to do any fighting.


    Yeah, right until our employer gets tired of waiting and sends us all up on the walls to die in an assault. This was spoken with a derisive snort by the coin-counting soldier, and several other Hawks followed it up, giving their assent.


    Jerome is right. Id rather be here, Jorund dered, even if were not getting active pay. If you think its cold here, imagine lying in those tents with just the rats forpany. A handful of murmurs voiced their agreement.


    We heard other news, Gawad weighed in. About your home, wasnt it, Jerome?


    Thenk soldier stopped his counting, putting his silver away in a pocket deep inside his tunic. Thats right. Those Orderds took Tothmor. All the town criers are yelling it.


    Tothmor? I didnt know it was under siege, the Dwarf frowned.


    It wasnt, Jerome shook his head. It seems the boys in ck got themselves a good captain.


    Not as good as Captain Bassel, someone dered loudly, making everyone raise their mugs in cheers.


    Ill drink to that!


    Gawad looked at Jorund, whose ale remained motionless in front of him. Something troubling you? he asked.


    Cities like Tothmor dont fall without a siege, the Dwarf muttered, barely audible through the mour of the other soldiers voices. Things are going to change now, one way or the other. Question is if they will change for us or pass us by. He finally looked at Gawad, gave a shrug, and emptied his mug.


    ~~~~


    Towards the end of the day, Eolf entered his masters study. Milord, the envoy from Ealond is still waiting.


    Konstans looked up abruptly, muttering to himself and stroking his forehead. Send him in, he finally dered, pouring a cup of wine for himself. As the door opened, he turned the small hourss on his desk before looking at his visitor.


    The man entering was d in bright colours describing intricate patterns. He was a stark contrast to the highborn drakonians or their servants, whose garments were typically a single colour with an emblem upon it.


    Master Guilbert, milord, servant to the duke of Belvoir, Eolf announced and retired.


    Have a seat, Master Guilbert, Konstans offered. You havee a long way to see me.


    The envoy made an borate bow. It is but a short distance for an audience with a man of your import. He remained standing with a smile; having waited all day did not seem to have dampened his spirits in any way.


    There was a moment of silence, where Guilbert looked at the dragonlord expectantly, while Konstans nced at the hourss swiftly disgorging grains of sand. What brings your master to send an emissary to Middanhal? he finally asked.


    My master, Duke Gaspard of Belvoir, sends his cordial greetings and wishes to convey his deepest pleasure at your ascension to your current and most rightful position, Guilbert dered with a fluent stream of words as if reciting a poetry from memory, adding another small bow. The smile had so far not faltered from his face for even the briefest of moments.


    His courtesy is appreciated, Konstans replied. I assume that is not all he wishes to convey?


    Most astute, my lord, Guilbert remarked, finally sitting down. As the rest of Adalmearc, the duke has been watching events unfold in Adalrik and Hthiod with anxious eyes. The Order must fight two wars, and their strength is greatly weakened in Ealond, for instance.


    Konstans eyes narrowed. The Order will be victorious, as it always is. Besides, the lord protector has added his own forces to theirs, including the renowned Red Hawks. The war in the North wille to a swift conclusion, I assure you.


    Yes, the Red Hawks, Guilbert repeated contemtively. Order soldiers, Vale soldiers, mercenaries. All the warriors you could possibly gather to fight these wars. There cannot be any left, he added with a smile.


    The coffers of the jarl of Vale are deep, Konstans retorted. Add the treasury of Adalrik to this, and you will find we have enough gold to fight twenty wars.


    Gold, I do not doubt, the envoy assented. But soldiers can only be hired if there are soldiers to hire, he continued, and his smile seemed a challenge. If thends are empty, no one can fight for you.


    As long as there is gold in this world, you can find a man willing to swing a sword for it, the dragonlord replied dryly.


    Perhaps. Even so, allies willing to fight by your side, not for gold but for friendships sake, must be wee.


    Konstans gave the other man a scrutinising gaze. Is Duke Gaspard offering his aid?


    In more ways than one. It grieves my master to inform you that you cannot trust King Rainier to uphold the high kings peace. Guilberts smile was dropped in favour of a concerned expression.


    What proof does Duke Gaspard have of this? Konstans voice was steady, but his eyes stared at the envoy.


    The king has told his vassals to make certain preparations. Prepare the stores of war such as filling the armouries, ensuring food supplies, making a count of able-bodied men and so forth, Guilbert listed. Unless King Rainier has arranged this with your lordship, and you are already aware of what is happening in Ealond?


    It is not by arrangement with me, Konstans admitted, barely moving his lips. Does the duke have any material proof that King Rainier plots war?


    Nothing in writing or simr, s. Guilberts face was appropriately regretful. Every one of the kings subjects knows it to be true, but unless someone dares speak up first, none of them will risk being singrly disloyal.


    Konstans took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. Does the duke know exactly what King Rainier intends?


    On this, the king has revealed nothing. However, both Herbergja and Tricaster have been targets for the kings of Ealond in the past, and either city seems likely.


    Tricaster is across the border from Belvoir, Konstans pointed out. If King Rainier seeks to expand hisnds to include that city, he might add it to your masters duchy. I can only imagine a man as shrewd as your duke has considered this.


    My lord, I am shaken that you would insinuate Duke Gaspard would take advantage of such an uwful situation. Guilberts voice was indignant. Breaking the peace of Adalmearc in order to seize thends of Korndale and bring them under his own rule, it is unthinkable for an honourable man such as the duke!


    But not unthinkable for King Rainier, Konstans added with a sardonic smile.


    Indeed not. Guilberts face quickly became sorrowful.


    The dragonlord licked his lips. You may inform your master of my gratitude for delivering this intelligence.


    Guilbert inclined his head. Duke Gaspard is prepared to do more. As the foremost noblemen of the realm, he feels it is his duty to take action.


    What sort of action is he nning to take? Konstans expression bordered on suspicious.


    The duke is bound in loyalty to King Rainier, of course, the emissary began to say. However, both dukes and kings are bound in loyalty to the Dragon Throne of Adalrik above all. If the king has broken his fealty, it is the duty of those still loyal to amend the situation. Each word in thest sentence was spoken with the utmost care.


    Konstans carefully stroked his chin. Only the Order has such authority. I cannot condone ormand your master to take such drastic steps.


    In normal times, the Order would be strong enough to dissuade King Rainier from even attempting. Yet the lord marshal is dead and cannot intervene, and there are none others tomand the Order to action.


    What of the marshal of Ealond? If he is made aware of this, it is his duty to step in.


    A sarcastic smile made a brief appearance on Guilberts face. All of Sir Martels forces in Fontaine have been sent east except for some hundred. There cannot be more than a few thousand Order troops in all of Ealond. The good marshal is powerless to stop King Rainier.


    Moving against the king, Konstans spoke slowly, each word chosen with care, especially when our cause could be considered insubstantial, is an extreme measure to take. Should the duke do this, he will be seen as a usurper.


    The alternative is worse, argued Guilbert. King Rainier is ambitious, and he is young. If this attempt at expanding his power is thwarted, but nothing else is done, he will simply wait for the next opportunity. And the next, and the next.


    Even so. Konstans tapped his fingers on the table idly. Without the proper authority, without real evidence, any action taken could cause as much harm as it would prevent. Merely by sending this message, Duke Gaspard is risking the wrath of his liege.


    Which is why, should any ask, I am here to propose a union between your son and my masters eldest daughter. Guilberts smile swiftly made its return.


    Konstans disyed a brief, emotionless smile. The House of Vale is ttered and will consider your masters proposal. The dragonlord gave Guilbert an inspecting nce. He must ce a great deal of trust in you to convey such a proposal.


    I am proud to carry out the dukes tasks, though I am the most humble of emissaries. Guilbert gestured towards himself. A simple servant whose fathers name is not his to speak and the least worthy member of his lordships household. Thus, should I reveal anything spoken between my master and your lordship, my testimony would hold no value. You are both noblemen of the highest birth, whereas I am lower thanmonborn.


    Konstans leaned back in his seat, his fingers ying the stem of his wine cup. What exactly is your master asking of me?


    A pledge between your house and his. If not symbolised by union through marriage, then through other means such as a treaty, Guilbert exined.


    What would this pledge entail?


    Duke Gaspard pledges himself to your cause and your wars. As you pledge yourself to him.


    Such a treaty might be misconstrued as our approval of any uwful actions taken by the duke, Konstans pointed out. His eyes, formerly resting on his cup, rose to meet Guilberts.


    Surely none would be so crass as to assume that. My master merely requires your written pledge to prove to the nobles of Ealond that Adalrik is our friend.


    Konstans began tapping his desk again. This is not a matter lightly decided.


    Guilbert nodded. I will remain in Middanhal until the Raven Days have ended. It will not be pleasant to travel until the new year, regardless.


    I will summon you once a decision has been made, Konstans dered and rose.


    Guilbert stood up as well. Very well, my lord. The envoy paused before he spoke again. Remember, Lord Konstans, that if you agree to lend your support, in return you gain not only the assistance of Belvoir, but all of Ealond.


    The dragonlord merely gave a brief nod and rang a bell standing on his table. His servant quickly appeared. Show Master Guilbert the way out, Konstans told Eolf, who did as ordered.


    Once alone, Konstans sank down into his seat. He nced at the hourss by his side, whose sands had long since run out.

 Chapter 73: Beyond the Price of Gold

    Chapter 73: Beyond the Price of Gold


    Beyond the Price of Gold


    Middanhal


    We need the remaining Hawks to be put to active duty, Konstans said firmly. He was sitting in his brothers study in the Citadel.


    You have ess to the royal treasury same as I, Valerian pointed out. He was seated at his desk, adding pen strokes to his ounts.


    Other expenses can be paid by the treasury, but not the mercenaries. They fight under the banner of those that pay them. We do not want them to consider Adalrik rather than Vale to be their patrons, should loyalties ever be conflicted.


    I have already sunk a hundred crowns into buying their contract for the siege, Valerianined. It will cost at least ten, maybe twenty more to retain the remainder of the Hawks.


    Konstans nced at the ledgers on the table between them. Your books seem full. I wager you can afford it.


    I do not see your reasoning. Despite dwindled numbers, the Order can garrison Middanhal without help.


    The issue is not whether they can, but whether we wish it so, Konstans argued. This city and this castle is defended by soldiers who are not loyal to us. We narrowly avoided disaster when Isarn seized the city. Should the Order turn against us, our position will be even worse with our armies bing trapped in the north.


    Valerian wore a sceptical look. We are the rightful rulers of the realm as confirmed by the Adalthing. Why would the Order ever turn against us?


    Their leadership is in tatters with both the lord marshal and the knight marshal dead. Captain Theobald is headstrong and unlikely to take orders from us. As for the Ordersmanders, one has alreadymitted treason, and the rest may not be more trustworthy.


    Athelstan was a traitor, true, but in chains he can cause no further harm. As for the others, we have no reason to doubt their loyalty or honour.


    Alwood is impulsive, unreliable  who can tell what goes on in his mind? The Arnling boy clearly has grand designs, given how he has the town criers announce his victory at Tothmor. With the realm weakened, what if one of them decides to march against us?


    Konstans, you see enemies where there are only shadows, Valerian imed.


    Better than closing my eyes until the enemies are at our throats, Konstans retorted. Arnling is dragonborn and a sessfulmander. Thatbination holds great sway over drakonians. Or what if some old veterans still hold fondness for Athelstan and decide to free him? I do not fear Isarn led by Isenhart, but this war could be prolonged tenfold if Athelstan were allowed to return.


    Valerian gave a sigh. Very well. But I will negotiate the price myself. These Hawks have fleeced me enough.


    There was a quick knock on the door, and a servant opened it without waiting for permission. The breach of etiquette made the jarl frown, but the servant spoke before he could be reprimanded. The jarlinna is inbour, milord.


    ~~~~


    Alexandras bedchamber was nearby. As Valerian and Konstans hastened down the hallway, they found the door closed, but muffled sounds of agony could be heard; in front of the room, several servants had gathered in excitement or in concern. Most knew how the previous jarlinna had met her fate.


    Has the sibyls been summoned? Away, you imbeciles! Valerian shouted as he approached, parting the servants like a ship through the sea. He was about to throw himself against the door when his brother seized him by the shoulder and held him back.


    Collect yourself! Konstansmanded. The sibyls have been here for days already in anticipation of this event. They are already attending to your wife, and your presence would only disturb. Your ce is out here. Now sit.


    Valerian gave a bewildered look at his brother until thetters words sank in, and the jarl found himself a seat. Of course, the sibyls are already here. I forgot.


    You, Konstans told a servant, bring a bottle of brandy. Someone fetch my son. The rest of you, be gone! This is no spectacle for you to gander at. Quickly, the servants dispersed, either before Konstans harsh tone or to do his bidding.


    I forgot about the sibyls, Valerian mumbled. I have not been thinking about Alexandra for days. My own wife.


    Be calm, Brother. This is not likest time.


    I should have seen her, spoken with her, the jarl muttered to no one in particr. It could be toote.


    Konstans nced down the hallway in the direction of the servants he had dispatched. A strong drink will help you.


    Konstantine arrived first, staring at his father and his uncle. What am I supposed to do? he asked meekly.


    Sit and wait, Konstans told him. The brandy arrived soon after, and Konstans put a cup in his brothers hand. This will keep you steady. He gave another cup to his son, took a third for himself, and tasted a small sip.


    Konstantine smelled the liquid, frowned, took a sip, and pulled a face. By his side, Valerian emptied his cup absent-mindedly, keeping his eyes on the door to the jarlinnas bedroom.


    ~~~~


    No clock measured the hours. The passage of time was punctuated by outbursts of pain reaching the men outside the bedchamber. At some point, Valerian paced in circles before resuming sitting down with a nk stare, his reverie only broken by another cry beyond the door. Konstans sat cid, neither words nor expression revealing his thoughts. Konstantine was gnawing on his lower lip, shifting his gaze between his father and his uncle.


    The door burst open, preceded by an infants cries. Sister Adh stood in the doorway, looking around the room until she located Valerian. My lord, you have a son, the norn dered.


    Valerian leapt to his feet, followed by his rtives. My wife? he asked with a croaking voice.


    She is well. Come, see for yourself.


    The norn stepped back into the room, allowing Valerian to stride past her. Inside, he found Alexandra in her bed, looking exhausted. Other women were present as well. Valerie, his daughter, seemed pale but smiling nheless. Mathilde, his brothers wife, had a nk expression. Two other norns were also present, an acolyte and an initiated priestess. Thetter had just emptied a small con, and she held a bundle in her arms.


    Born to rising sun, gold in hair and hand, the fountain will never dry, the priestess spoke with half-closed eyes. Peering in from the doorway, a servant heard the birth words and quickly scribbled them down on paper kept ready for just this reason.


    Sister Adh crossed the room and snatched the baby out of the other norns hands, putting the newborn child onto the ground. Everyone looked expectantly at Valerian, who did not hesitate to pick up the boy and thereby acknowledge him as a member of his house.


    Valerius, the jarl spoke with gleaming eyes looking at his son, I give you this name after your grandfather. Valerius, my son, be wee to the House of Vale!


    The room erupted in cheers. Konstans ced a hand on his brothers shoulder, congratting him. Same sentiment was expressed by Konstantine and Valerie.


    How blessed you are, Mathilde told Alexandra. Despite the nature of her remark, Konstantines mother had little fondness in her expression as she watched the jarl ce his child in his wifes arms for the first time.


    ~~~~


    Holwyn slipped inside the quarters belonging to her master. He was engaged in a game against his sister, who for once was not surrounded by her usual attendants among the courtdies. Milord, news you should hear, she spoke. The jarl looked at her expectantly. The jarlinna of Vale has given birth to a son. The boy seems healthy and strong.


    Interesting, Theodoric remarked, stroking the thin beard on his chin. That should leave Valerian busy.


    More importantly, the same goes for Konstans. His son is no longer heir to Vale, Theodwyn added.


    Perhaps a chance to sow discord, the jarl muttered. We will need to break their stranglehold over the Adalthing sooner orter. This might be the first rift.


    Holwyn poured some ale for herself and sat down. Theodwyn nced with an irritated look at Holwyns smudged clothing touching the furniture, but restricted herments to the topic at hand. Even better if we could drive a wedge between the prince and his lord protector.


    That will happen on its own, I am sure, Theodoric said confidently. Four years with House Vale putting their own needs above those of the kingdom is sure to gall our young prince. He seems headstrong and thus bound toe into conflict with his regents. Once the prince is finally crowned, I bet he will have had enough of Vale.


    Still, it would not hurt to help such conflict along, Theodwyn dered pointedly.


    Holebert feels confident he can recruit one of the princes chamber servants to be our eyes and ears, Holwyn told her master.


    Theodoric gave an affirming grunt. Good. It is too soon to approach Ingmond while he grieves his family, but I feel certain that eventually, he will see the wisdom in restricting Vales power. We need to wrest the Adalthing from him by the time a new jarl of Isarn is to be appointed.


    Who do you think Jarl Vale will seek to make the new Isarn? asked Holwyn curiously.


    If I were him, I would elevate one of my margraves with strong ties to me, Theodoric contemted. A blood rtive would be sure to spark outrage. I cannot imagine the Adalthing ever agreeing to that. But someone almost as close to me as a member of my own house.


    Lord Jaunis, Theodwyn remarked. He is Valerians margrave and his brother-inw. Young, hot-headed, and enraged against the northerners responsible for the death of his father. He will always favour the South in the Adalthing and be easily swayed by the powerful husband of his sister.


    Valerian would have an iron grip upon the realm even after our prince is crowned and he steps down as lord protector, Theodoric muttered in agreement. Fortunately, it takes both king and Adalthing to raise a new house to the rank of jarl. We have four years to undermine Vales hold over the Adalthing before he can make anyone jarl of Isarn.


    Or four years to make our future king suggest another to be the new jarl, Theodwyn added.


    Four years, Holwyn reiterated, raising her cup as if making a toast.


    ~~~~


    The most luxurious chambers in the Citadel were naturally reserved for the royal family. With the ascendance of House Hardling, this meant three boys in their teens upied these rooms; their mother and sister had remained at Hardburg to oversee the familysnds.


    You fret like a boy, Inghard. I fail to see what that child means to us, Hardmar remarked with indifference. The heir to the realms sat in a soft chair, drinking diluted wine. It is not our house.


    Hardmar is right. The second of the brothers, walking around the room, voiced his agreement. Vale is loyal to us. What does it matter if he has a son or not?


    Inghard, the youngest, looked at the other two. He sat in a corner with a book in his hands. What if it causes a rift between Jarl Vale and his brother? Now that Lord Konstans son is no longer heir to the jarldom.


    If it does, Hardmar replied with a shrug, that is their problem, not ours. In fact, perhaps it would be to the best.


    How so? asked Gerhard.


    I have my doubts about how loyal Vale is. He was swift enough to arrange the legalities that I can marry that daughter of his, yet he refused to do the same that I can be crowned before time.


    Those are two separate matters, Inghard interjected. Anybody can receive royal permission to marry before they are of age, but thews regarding session are set in stone. Nobody may be crowned before they are twenty-one. It is impossible to make exceptions.


    Impossible, Hardmar scoffed. Or he simplycks the will.


    I find your doubt misced. Vale is only lord protector until we take power, the second brother began to speak.


    Until I take power, Gerhard, Hardmar inserted, emptying his cup.


    Gerhard shot his eldest brother an annoyed nce. If Vale wants to be dragonlord after you are crowned, he corrected himself, he needs to stay loyal to House Hardling.


    Which exins why he wants to dy my coronation as much as possible, the eldest prince said with contempt.


    What should concern us, Gerhard continued with a pointed look at his brothers, is this upstart, Adalbrand.


    He is older than any of us, a knight and amander, the young Inghard interjected.


    So? Gerhard asked irritated.


    How can you call him an upstart when he has proven himself more than any of us have?


    Be silent. What is important is that he is clearly trying to ingratiate himself with the people, Gerhard imed, resuming his pacing.


    He is? How? asked Inghard.


    You have not heard? Hardmar spoke up. He had the town criers announce the conquest of Tothmor all over the city.


    I have been at the library most days ofte, Inghard mumbled, looking down into the book in hisp.


    I sent this Adalbrand to Hthiod to be forgotten, the crown prince sneered, yet he presumes to spread these tales of his victories. He insists on being a thorn in my side.


    He must be dealt with, Gerhard demanded. He had ceased walking around in order to pick up some dice on a table, left behind from a game. Now he yed with them in his hand with restless motions. He must be stripped ofmand before he can do any harm.


    Hardmar nodded, filling his cup. True. I will inform Vale to take of it.


    That is beyond his power, Inghard pointed out. He has no authority over the Order.


    He is lord protector, king in all but name, Gerhard scoffed.


    In the realm of Adalrik, yes, Inghard rified. But the Order serves all of Adalmearc. It cannot bemanded by any with the power of the king, only by someone with the power of the high king.


    But they are the same, his second brother argued. The king of Adalrik is also the high king of Adalmearc.


    Yes, Inghard replied patiently, but the lord protector only serves in ce of the former, not thetter. I suspect this is on purpose, ensuring the Order is a counterweight to the lord protector. Regardless, would it not be best to let Sir Adalbrand continue to win his victories against the ounders?


    It should be me winning those victories, Hardmar considered. The Order should be obeying me.


    The ounders are of no concern, Gerhard interjected. The civil war to the north is all that matters!


    Tedious sieges against scoundrels, the crown prince snorted. The real glory obviously lies with defeating these ounders, invading our realms. But do not worry, Gerhard. I will deal with both rebels and invaders.


    Gerhard, looking unimpressed, threw the dice on the table. Inghard resumed reading.


    ~~~~


    All through the Citadel and the city, the news spread of the birth of Jarl Vales son, providing a wee excuse to interrupt work and share the excitement. Despite having been near the centre of events and personal attachments, the dragonlord of Adalrik did not shirk his duties; soon after, he resumed hisbours. As the day came to a close, thetest person summoned by Konstans entered the study.


    What have you learned? Konstans questioned him.


    Arion, chambein to the jarl of Vale, inclined his head quickly and began his report. Our merchants and reeves have noticed increased traffic in both the duchy of Belvoir as well as near the capital. My specific enquiries will not be replied until another week or two has passed, so it is impossible to say whether this traffic is of military nature.


    Your best guess?


    Arion licked his lips. Milord, there could be any number of reasons. Even if the king of Ealond or the duke of Belvoir are arming for war, we have no intelligence to suggest their target.


    Konstans let out a deep breath. Inform me as soon as you know anything.


    Of course, milord.


    What have you heard from Hthiod?


    The tidings seem genuine. Tothmor is in the hands of the Order, Arion confirmed.


    How?


    A surprise assault by Sir Adalbrand, much like how Middanhal was taken earlier this year.


    How does that keep working for him? Konstans asked with incredulity. War is not that easy!


    Apparently, it is for the knight lieutenant, Arion remarked dryly. But is this not a good thing, milord? If they can close the campaign in Hthiod, the Order army can be used against Jarl Isarn afterwards.


    That depends on who they will take orders from, Konstans pointed out. If this Adalbrand has designs of his own, we may have another Athelstan on our hands, only somehow, this one is even more dangerous. He paused for a moment. Find out all you can. We cannot be blind to any danger from Hthiod, simply because we are staring at Ealond or Isarn.


    Of course, milord, Arion assented, taking his leave with a short bow.

 Chapter 74: Cold Quarter

    Chapter 74: Cold Quarter


    Cold Quarter


    Middanhal


    The Dragon Throne was a marvel of artisanship,bining sculpted marble with fashioned gold andid with sapphires. The seat itself sat atop numerous stairs, giving it an elevated position in the throne room and conveying the majesty of its upant inparison with those standing on the floor, looking up to gaze upon the seat of power in Middanhal. Currently, a seventeen-year-old boy sat in that seat, wearing a charming smile while dressed in blue and golden silk.


    You are wee at our court, Hardmar spoke to the envoy standing before the throne. I am pleased that King Brin would affirm the ties between Heohlond and Adalrik.


    The emissary inclined his head with a smile. He was dressed in the colours of n Cameron with a heavy, fur-lined cloak and thick woollen clothes. The r ruirech acknowledges the bond between the highnds and the lownds. He bows before the ard r and sends these gifts. As he spoke, the messenger gave a bow before gesturing to a small chest behind him. Two servants apanying the envoy unfastened the leather straps and opened the lid, revealing the contents to be dyed fabrics, carved figurines, and pieces of jewellery.


    They say that three things are beyond the price of gold, Hardmar spoke. Kin, honour, and peace. I ept these gifts as a token of peace between my loyal subject, King Brin, and I. Tell him he has proven his honour in my eyes, and inform him of my desire that he and I should be as close as kin.


    Many of the courtiers mumbled their approval and appreciation at the eloquence disyed by the young prince, and the hignder envoy seemed satisfied. My deepest gratitude, great prince, along with that of my king. Not finished yet, he pulled out a small statuette from a pocket, about the height of a mans hand from wrist to fingertip. As for the esteemed lord protector, my king offers his good wishes to your son and had this prepared in anticipation of the joyous asion. As Idisea saw fit to let your son arrive already, it gives me great pleasure to present you with the kings gift to Valerius of Vale.


    The envoy gave the statuette to a servant, who approached the throne and ced it in Valerians hands with a deep bow. The jarl examined the piece. It was carved in ivory, a near priceless material. The statuette resembled a white bear standing upright, its jaws opened in a roar. It is exquisite, Valerian eximed, examining the craftsmanship.


    The envoy nodded with satisfaction. It was made by our best craftsmen with runes of protection added underneath. Valerian flipped the piece over to see the symbols cut into the bottom. ce it by your sons bedside, my lord, and the great bear himself shalle from the mountains to safeguard him.


    Magnificent, the jarls voice boomed. Convey my deepest thanks to your king.


    With final courtesies towards Hardmar, who graciously bowed his head in return, the envoy retreated along with his servants, leaving behind the chest of gifts.


    While waiting for the next person to be given audience, the courtiers murmured among each other in small groups. One of these was centred around Theodwyn. As a jarls sister at a royal court without any queen, she ranked among the highest noblewomen. Her handmaidens were viewed with favour by others, other noblewomen sought to be included in conversation with her during meals or audiences such as this, and being invited into Theodwyns circle of confidence in her parlour was an emblem of distinction. So far, only Arndis and Eleanor had a safe ce by Theodwyns side, whether they were out among the court or in the privacy of her quarters; as for the remainingdies, they were continuously given attention and cast aside in an endless cycle ording to Theodwyns whims and their ability to inform her of interesting events at court.


    Do you suppose that statuette was made from real elephant bone? whispered one of thedies excited. While trying to be discreet, her voice hissed the sibnt sounds like a rusty nail scratching steel.


    Of course it is, Theodwyn dered dismissively. King Brin is not foolish enough to risk offence.


    Those are rich gifts, Eleanor mentioned. I did not imagine the hignders would have such to spare.


    We are not all savages in the north, Eleanor, Theodwyn chastised her. Many of the other women exchanged nces; had such an expression of displeasure been aimed at any of them, they would soon after have been banished from Theodwyns presence.


    Of course not, mydy, Eleanor spoke with flushed cheeks. I meant nothing against Theodstan.


    Theodstan is in Adalrik and obviously different, another woman dered. But just look at the envoy, all dressed in furs and wool! There is an obvious difference between hignders and drakonians. Several of the other women present nodded and chirped affirmations of this.


    Arndis may disagree with you in that regard, Theodwyn said crisply. After all, her mother was a hignder.


    Several pairs of eyes turned in surprise to look at the blue-d woman. She was, Arndis confirmed. I have never been to Heohlond, so I cannot speak for the rest of the realm, but my mother was a truedy.


    The same women who had affirmed that hignders were savages hastily agreed that none could cast aspersions on thete wife of Arngrim. Indeed, all knew that Lady  one of them began to say, but she fell silent, unable toplete her sentence.


    Lady Deirdre, Theodwyn spoke with emphasis on the name, was poised and dignified every time I saw her at court. I only regret I never knew her better, she added with a kind look towards Arndis. I am tired, she announced with an abrupt shift in her voice. I shall retire to my chambers. Do not disturb me before the evening meal, she instructed them.


    Yes, Lady Theodwyn, they replied in unison, scattering as she left them.


    ~~~~


    The dragonlord of the realm was not attending audiences, as he could not spare the time for ceremonial gestures. Instead, he was hosting his own meetings in his chamber as usual. While his brother was receiving gifts, Konstans was sitting across the table from Theobald. As captain of the Citadel, he was the only knight in Adalrik with amanding rank until such time that a lord marshal and knight marshal would be appointed.


    Captain Theobald, I appreciate that you will meet with me.


    You are the dragonlord. I assume this was important, Theobald replied in his brusque manner.


    Quite right. I have observed your efforts in rebuilding the city guard, Konstans began to say, broaching the topic. It is of course of the utmost importance that Middanhal has a strong garrison with effective patrols.


    Of course, Theobald agreed. Jarl Isarn would never have taken the city if most of my soldiers had not been marched off to war, against my counsel.


    Konstans nodded. To this end, my brother has retained the services of the remaining Red Hawks here in Middanhal. They can be used to bolster the garrison.


    Theobalds expression stiffened. There is no need for such.


    The outer walls and the gates are thinly manned, Konstans argued. Letting the Hawks guard one of the gates seems sensible.


    The Order mans the fortifications of this city, Theobald dered firmly. Every gate, every tower, all will remain under themand of the Order.


    The Hawks can patrol the streets, Konstans suggested. Help keep order in the city.


    I will not have mercenaries responsible for upholding thew, the captain retorted with gritted teeth.


    You are a difficult man to offer aid, the dragonlord replied.


    I did not request your aid.


    What about inside the Citadel? The kingthanes already guard the royal quarters and the throne room, Konstans considered. The Hawks could be assigned simrly to protect the courtside of the castle.


    I will not have any soldiers on the walls but my own, Theobald growled, regardless of location.


    Of course, but the interior is a different matter, is it not? The Hawks could guard the corridors, the prisoners and so forth. There is no reason Order soldiers must stand guard outside my wing or that of my brothers family, for instance, Konstans argued in a cordial tone.


    I suppose that would not matter much, Theobald admitted hesitantly. Though it would not make a big difference either. There must be less than a hundred soldiers on duty in those areas you speak of.


    In part because you cannot spare more, Konstans pointed out. This way, we can strengthen the guard, and you will have more men for the rest of the city. In truth, I fear that these mercenaries are getting restless. Having tasks would keep them out of trouble. You would be doing me a favour.


    True, idle soldiers are the enemy of peace and order, Theobald agreed. I will inform the leader of the Hawks and have him put his men to use as you suggest.


    Excellent, Konstans smiled gratefully. I am much obliged, captain.


    No trouble. Theobald made a dismissive gesture. If that is all, I shall return to my duties.


    Of course, captain. Thank you again. Theobald rose, turned, and left the dragonlord, who was already buried deep in his next task.


    ~~~~


    For the time being, the dungeons under the Citadel were still guarded by Order soldiers. Since prisoners were usually sent to the mines or released after paying geld, in rare cases executed, only few cells were needed. A single guardroom manned by two soldiers was enough. The room was circr and like a spider had corridors extending in every direction; each of these contained a number of cells.


    A young woman in an expensive, blue dress walked down the steps and entered the guardroom. It was not only her appearance that made her seem out of ce; her eyes darted around, taking in sights unusual for a noblewoman, and her nose wrinkled at the unpleasant smell any dungeon possessed.


    Look, mdy, I mean no disrespect, but this aint a ce for gentle folk, one of the guards began to say, standing up from their dice game to block Arndis path.


    I merely need to speak with one of the prisoners. Then I shall trouble you no further, she told him.


    We cant just let anybody walk down and enter the cells. Thats against our orders, the guard informed her, still blocking her path.


    Hold up, the other man said, scratching his cheek. That colour. Youre Sir Adalbrands sister, arent you?


    I am, Arndis confirmed. Are you known to my brother?


    Not as such. I was part of the original garrison when those Isarn dogs besieged us, both here in the Citadel andter Athelstans army outside the walls. Both times, your brother came to our rescue, the guard exined. Hes a good man, a true knight. The sort we need.


    Arndis sent him a smile that emphasised her good features. You are most kind. What is your name, good master?


    Just Ingmar, gooddy.


    I shall pass your words and your name onto my brother, she promised.


    Thats real nice of you, mdy, he muttered bashful, scratching the ground with one foot. Which prisoner do you need to see?


    Isenwald of Isarn, if it is no trouble to you.


    No trouble at all. Not like anyone else is down here, the guard reassured her, even if hispatriot sent him a sceptical look. He fetched the keys from the wall and walked over to one of the corridor doors. This one, mdy. Unlocking it, Ingmar entered the hallway beyond. It was dark, but light from the guardroom revealed that that the corridor had a blind end and four doors on either side, allowing for eight cells. Wait, the guard eximed, turning around to quickly fetch a lit candle. You will need this, mdy.


    Thank you, Arndis replied politely, epting the faint light source.


    The guard walked down the hallway until he reached the third door on the right, unlocking it. Well keep the doors open, he is chained up anyway. Dont get too close, though, he might be able to reach you if you step inside the cell, he warned her.


    I understand, Arndis told him. She moved to stand just by the door, while Ingmar turned back to the guardroom.


    The candle light flickered, struggling to illuminate the dark space. Sitting on a primitive bed with a chain around his ankle was Isenwald, heir to the jarldom of Isarn. His previous slender frame was now gaunt, and his eyes seemed unnaturallyrge in his hollow face. Who  is there? he croaked with his typical hesitation and a voice that had not known much use ofte.


    Lady Arndis, my lord, she presented herself, holding the candle near her face.


    It has been a while since any called me by title, Isenwald spoke and coughed a faintughter. I would  offer you a seat, but  I think you are better served by remaining standing.


    Thank you nheless, Arndis replied cordially.


    What  do  I  owe the pleasure  of this visit? He gave a hollow smile. That was telling  of how long  I have been here. Before my  imprisonment, I would have remembered to avoid such clumsy words.


    I felt it was only in good order that I paid you a visit, Arndis replied to his question. I apologise for the dy it took me to make my appearance.


    Since  it was not expected, I cannot reproach you for any such  dys. Isenwald cleared his throat, choosing his next words with care. I am curious why you felt the need to visit me.


    There was a moment before Arndis answered him. You recall thest time we met?


    Yes. I surrendered  our house and have been here since. In some ways, it  is myst memory.


    You saved lives on that day, Lord Isenwald. Her voice took on a formal tone. Not only mine, but also the lives of my friends and many other innocent people. It took me a while to admit it, but you deserve praise for your actions. I do not expect others will see it this way, so I havee to thank you myself.


    Isenwald straightened up a bit, his expression bing serious. I appreciate the sentiment, mydy. I shall remember your words.


    You are wee, Arndis replied, inclining her head.


    Perhaps, Isenwald spoke quickly, just as she was about to turn away; she stopped as she heard him speak, holding the candle in front of her face so that the thin wisp of smokey under her nose. Perhaps you would  do me a kindness  in return, he hurried to say in slow fashion. What can you tell me  of my family?


    Arndis stared at him in surprise. You do not know?


    He shook his head. I have not been told anything since  I arrived here.


    Sympathy coloured her face. There was a battle. Your uncle and brother were both captured, and they are prisoners here as well. Your father still controls Isarn, but his allies are under siege. Isenwald responded to this news with silence. I am sorry, she added.


    May  I ask a favour, mydy? Can you tell them  I am here as well, alive and  in good health? His words were undercut by his own coughing.


    Of course, Arndis promised him.


    Uncertainty about the fate  of your family leads to terrible spections, Isenwald exined, and we have  only too much time to specte  in this ce.


    I shall let them know, she told him. Farewell, Lord Isenwald.


    Thank you, he spoke hoarsely, following the candle in her hands with his eyes as she left the room.


    ~~~~


    He has a strong grip, Valerian eximed with pride. I imagine he will be a warrior if he wants to be. Granted, right now he mostly sleeps, but once he grows up, just wait and see, he impressed on his brother.


    Undoubtedly, Konstans replied absent-mindedly.


    The jarl did not seem to notice. Alexandra has proven to be a pir of strength. She seems delicate, but I would bet on her against Alfbrand himself in a fight!


    They were in the royal quarters upied by Hardmar, though the prince himself was absent. Standing by a desk, Konstans drummed his fingers impatiently against the wood. Do you know why the prince called us here?


    I could not say, Valerian admitted. He gave no sign that anything was on his mind when I saw him at the audience. Konstans exhaled through his nose, creating a snorting sound, though he did not make any reply.


    At length, the prince appeared. My lord protector and my dragonlord, he smiled.


    My prince, the brothers replied with differing enthusiasm.


    I called you here because of Adalbrand, who seems bent on being a pest, Hardmar informed them. He was supposed to sink into oblivion in Hthiod, yet I must hear his name shouted from the street and muttered in the corridors. What will you do about it?


    Valerian sent his brother a surprised look. My prince, I am already taking steps towards this. I have him under increased watch to anticipate his future moves. We will be warned should he be a threat.


    Watch. Warn. Hardmar chewed on the words. That sounds like doing nothing but wait for him to be an actual threat.


    Hardly, Konstans spoke in defence. It is merely prudent to gather intelligence before we act.


    Yet he wears his victories like a crown already, the prince imed. Why wait with removing him? In fact, I have toyed with the idea of recing him myself.


    The two men looked at him with rm and disbelief. You would travel to Hthiod? On campaign? asked Konstans.


    Why do you sound surprised? asked Hardmar offended. I am to be king. What task is more kingly than leading an army and winning battles?


    There is a reason kings have captains, Valerian pointed out. One purpose of the Order is precisely to train themanders needed.


    Such as Athelstan, Hardmar sneered. How soon before Adalbrand bes another like him?


    I will not allow Adalbrand to be a problem, Konstans dered curtly.


    My brother is most reliable when ites to solve such problems, my prince, Valerian hastened to add.


    That is why he serves as dragonlord, I take it, Hardmar remarked. Tell me, what else has been done in service to the realm?


    Forgive me, what are you asking? Konstans frowned.


    You are the dragonlord, you serve the realm. What have you aplished? asked Hardmar.


    Konstans cleared his throat. I have convinced the captain to let the prisoners be guarded by Hawks rather than Order soldiers. This way, none who might harbour loyalties to Athelstan, former soldiers of his or the like, will be tempted to let him escape.


    The captain is not an easy man to convince, Valerian said impressed. How did you manage that?


    I made a few suggestions that I knew were not ptable to him, waiting with my true purpose and making it seem inconsequential. A slight misdirection, Konstans exined.


    A change of guard. Hardmars voice expressed the opposite of his lord protectors. What else?


    What else? I negotiate with the guilds to ensure trade and coin flows into the city, Konstans told the prince. I meet with envoys. I prepare for the Adalthing. Once this rebellion is over and the House of Isarn has been removed, a new house must be raised in their ce. We will need the voice of many others in the Adalthing to see our choice carried through.


    Have you achieved this? Hardmar asked.


    It is too early to approach Ingmond. He is still in mourning, the dragonlord borated. Besides, this will not be relevant for a long time. There is time to secure our choice for jarl.


    Our choice? I have not chosen any to be jarl of Isarn.


    The brothers of Vale exchanged looks. We were not aware you had a choice in mind, my prince, Valerian spoke with caution.


    I have none in mind right now, but seeing as he will be one of my four jarls, I obviously want to choose the man, Hardmar informed them coldly.


    Certainly, my prince, Konstans spoke with deference. We will keep this in mind.


    Of course you will. Hardmar gave a sudden smile. That is all I require from you. You are dismissed.


    The brothers muttered their farewells, making awkward gestures of courtesy before leaving the room. He has grown more demanding, Valerian mumbled as they walked past kingthanes standing guard in the hallway.


    Not to mention his newfound interest in governance, Konstans added.


    And warfare. But he is still very young. Taking counsel from others is rarely a virtue of youth, the jarl pondered.


    He has four years to grow up, his brother remarked.


    Let us hope he does. We cannot rece him, after all, Valerian pointed out with a wry smile.


    Konstans made no reply to this.


    ~~~~


    In the dungeons below, Ingmar moved to lock the doors to Isenwalds cell upon seeing Arndis return to the guardroom. When he came back, he saw that she had remained rather than moving towards the stairs.


    Anything the matter, mdy? he asked.


    I am sorry to impose on your kindness, but I should like to visit two of the other prisoners. I made a promise, she exined.


    The guard looked at his counterpart sitting down. Captain cant chew us out any more than he is going to already, the other soldier remarked in a resigned fashion.


    Which prisoners, mdy? asked Ingmar.


    Athelstan and Eumund of Isarn.


    All the men of Isarn, the guard considered. They are down different corridors. Captain wanted them kept separate, he exined, unlocking another door, stepping past it and unlocking the cell door beyond.


    Arndis followed him, still holding the candle in her hand. Inside sat a young man reminiscent of Isenwald, though he remained more muscr than his brother even after months of imprisonment. Sir Eumund, Arndis called out.


    What is it, he replied tonelessly.


    I am Lady Arndis, she began to say.


    I recognise your colours, he interjected.


    Of course. It took Arndis a moment to resume speaking. Your brother asked me to inform you that he is being kept here as well, but he remains in good health. Eumund made no reply to this. I bid you farewell, thedy added awkwardly when it became clear she would not receive an answer.


    Ingmar looked behind Arndis as she returned to the guardroom. The other soldier, still seated by the table, was staring pointedly at the cup in his hands.


    Athelstan as well, was it? Ingmar asked, walking over to unlock a third corridor and yet another cell.


    You are most kind, Arndis told him with a smile that would confound most men.


    It was nothing, Ingmar mumbled, leaving to let Arndis step inside Athelstans cell.


    The man once renowned as the greatestmander in the Seven Realmsy on the primitive wooden construction that served as his bed. His eyes were closed, and he looked almost serene; the fact that his cell door had been unlocked did not disturb his reverie. The faint light of the candle was enough to reveal his skin was unnaturally pale, however, and his hair had grown long and wild, butcked any lustre.


    Sir Athelstan?


    He opened his dark eyes and quickly sat up. My apologies, mydy. Had I known to expect delicatepany, I would have been more courteous. He stood up entirely and made an awkward bow as his chains allowed.


    Arndis seemed confused for a moment before she bowed in return. Nothing to apologise for. I did not announce my arrival ahead, so you could not have known.


    I appreciate your visit, regardless.


    I bring news from your nephew, Isenwald. He asked me to inform you that he is also kept here, but he is in good health.


    Athelstan inclined his head. That is very kind of you to tell me. I have wondered often about Isenwalds fate. He paused briefly. If I may impose further upon you, would you tell me how the war goes against my brother?


    The Red Hawks are besieging the castle of Grenwold. There have been no battles or other events of note.


    The Red Hawks Jarl Vale has brought in mercenaries. Putting his gold to use, Athelstan contemted.


    I do not quite understand why the jarl is besieging Grenwold, Arndis admitted. I would have imagined they would seek to capture Silfrisarn.


    Athelstan shook his head. Marching an army deep into Isarn is too risky. The terrain is mountainous in the southern parts and easily defensible. Not to mention, provision lines would be under threat of constant raids. Taking Grenwold castle allows the supply lines to be defended, he exined, frowning as he continued, or they can march on Hrossfeld afterwards. Taking Hrossfeld leaves northern Isarn vulnerable to an invasion that my brother does not have the troops to defend against.


    I see. Now that you exin it, it sounds so simple.


    Athelstan gave a hollow smile. It was my pleasure to be of help. Silence filled the dark confine. Lady Arndis, if you will forgive me for asking further questions When she did not object, he continued. How is your brother?


    Arndis gave him a surprised look. Brand is well. He has just sent news that he has retaken Tothmor from the ounders. All the city is rejoicing.


    Athelstan smiled, this time in a genuine manner. In winter, no less. I always knew he had a gift formand, but even I did not expect He did not finish the sentence but simply continued smiling, seeming lost in memory or thought.


    He had the best teacher, Arndis pointed out.


    Athelstan turned his gaze on her again, his attention snapping back. From a pocket in his ragged clothing, he dug out a small wooden carving, specifically the king piece from a chess game. I gave him this the first time he beat me. Eventually, I could no longer win against him, no matter how often we yed. He rubbed it between his fingers.


    He taught me how to y the game, Arndis said. We did not have much time to y, sadly, but I found it intriguing.


    It is an excellent challenge for anyone, whether a knight or ady, Athelstan dered with a wry look. You should practise the game. Give Brand a challenge when he returns.


    Arndis smiled. Good advice, Sir Athelstan. I will take my leave, but I thank you for the pleasant conversation.


    Athelstan gave a bow as deeply as his manacles allowed. The pleasure was entirely mine, mydy.


    ~~~~


    As Quill moved through the corridors of the Citadel, a few heads turned to stare. On most days, the Kings Quill was known to never leave his tower, and he was a rare sight elsewhere in the castle. The scribe greeted those he met and knew, whether courtiers or servants, making his way to the lower levels. With him, he carried parchment and writing tools. He was near the entrance to the dungeon when a noblewoman came from the opposite direction, ascending the staircase. Looking up, Arndis saw Quill standing in the doorway.


    Master Quill, she eximed surprised. I was not expecting to see you here.


    My duties are varied, the scribe smiled, and one of them calls me to the cells. I confess, I did not expect to see you here either, Lady Arndis. An anxious expression appeared on her face, and Quill swiftly added, Nor is it any of my concern. He stood aside to let her pass. A pleasant day to you, Lady Arndis.


    Thank you, Master Quill, she replied with a hint of relief and hurried past him.


    Continuing down the stairs, thew keeper entered the dungeons and found the Order soldiers on guard. They in turn easily recognised the scribe. Master Quill, Ingmar spoke in greeting.


    I need to speak with a prisoner.


    Lots of that going around, mumbled the other guard.


    Ingmar hastened to get the keys while sending hispanion a threatening look. Which prisoner, Master Quill?


    Lord Elis.


    Elis? Ingmar questioned.


    You know, southerner. That hallway, the other guard reminded him while handing Quill a candle. Youll need this.


    Right. This way, Master Quill. Ingmar led the scribe down one of the corridors, unlocking a cell.


    Who is there? asked a frail voice. The dim light had trouble illuminating the cell, showing little more than a haggard shape on the bench serving as a bed.


    Master Quill, milord, replied thew keeper. I havee to inform you of the charges of treason against you.


    Metal could be heard scraping against wood as chains slid across the bench. Treason? I havenguished for months in this hole! I must be given an audience with the lord protector!


    Your guilt will be determined by the Adalthing, milord. The lord protector will not hear your plea.


    But he can have me released! There is no need for a trial against me! Elis insisted.


    Charges of treason cannot simply be swept aside, Quill dered. Only the Adalthing can proim you an innocent man, or grant you mercy in case you are found guilty.


    I am innocent, Elis protested.


    There is evidence to the contrary, which is why I urge you to admit your guilt and plead for leniency, Quill told him.


    What evidence, the nobleman scoffed. I say that I am innocent! Is my word not enough?


    There are witnesses that you attempted to surrender the Citadel to Jarl Isarns forces. Lady Isabel among them, whose word cannot be doubted. Not to mention, given that you made deals with both Jarl Vale and Jarl Isarn at the Adalthing, promising to support both as lord protector while seeking the office yourself Quill swallowed. Milord, your word is not in good standing among your peers.


    I may have  entertained the notion of surrendering to the rebels, Elis admitted. We were in a desperate situation! I might have saved many lives otherwise lost if the Isarn scum had stormed the castle. How can it be treason simply to consider surrender?


    Milord, the evidence is heavier than that. You were discoveredmunicating with the rebels, nning to betray the castle. Quill licked his lips; the candle in his hand showed him to be ill at ease. I really must urge you to consider begging for leniency.


    Elis had so far been looking in every direction, staring at shadows, but he now fixed his eyes on Quill. You would enjoy that, I bet.


    Milord, Quill protested.


    I remember. It was you who discovered me. You and that wretched kitchen girl!


    The scribe coughed. Please, milord, this does not help your situation


    You bastard! Elis lunged forward; the chains on his wrists plunged him back. You are to me! You are the guilty party, not me!


    Milord, please! Quill moved back, hitting the wall of the cell.


    How dare you show your face to me! Elis shouted. He strained against his shackles, gritting his teeth and looking like a madman.


    Pressed against the wall, Quill moved to the side until he nearly fell backwards through the door opening. Regaining his bnce, he hurried away; the screams of the former dragonlord followed him all the way out of the dungeons.


    ~~~~


    After the departure of the brothers Vale, Hardmar moved from one part of his quarters to another, where his own brothers were to be found. Gerhard was ying with a deck of cards, constantly shuffling them, while Inghard, the youngest, had his nose in a book.


    I am losing faith in Vale, Hardmar proimed. Both of them.


    What would give you cause for doubt? asked Gerhard.


    My lord protector seems only to care about his son, Hardmar sneered, while my dragonlord seems incapable of his tasks.


    That is odd. Lord Konstans strikes me as an intelligent man, Inghard remarked from his seat, looking up briefly.


    I did not ask your opinion, his eldest brother said dismissively. I questioned Konstans about his work, and he had little to show. I do not believe he can effectively handle threats to my rule, nor can his brother.


    He is the most powerful jarl, Gerhard pointed out with incredulity, scattering ying cards everywhere on the table by him. Vale is paying for the Red Hawks currently fighting Jarl Isarn. His armies are fighting for you!


    As they should, Hardmar replied with disdain. He deserves no reward or special title for simply defending the realm. I want a lord protector, a dragonlord that carries out my wish swiftly and obediently. Neither Vale or his brother seem able.


    Jarl Vale chose to put you on the throne, Inghard interjected, looking up again from his book. It will be four years before you are crowned and that choice is irreversible. Until then, you should not whip your only ploughing horse, he advised.


    Shut up, Inghard, Hardmar told him coldly. I will whip whom I please.


    His youngest brother returned to his book.

 Chapter 75: Ill Fate

    Chapter 75: Ill Fate


    Ill Fate


    Middanhal


    Every evening, Kate was found in the library tower. In Egils absence, she had taken over many of his duties. She was not Quills apprentice in name, nor did he teach her everything a future Kings Quill needed to know; he paid her as an apprentice, though, making Kate rich among the kitchen girls. It also kept her busy from morning until bedtime and sometimes beyond.


    Are you done sweeping? Quill asked.


    Yes, Master Quill. Kate put the broom back into a cupboard.


    He gave a nce at the water clock in the library hall. Still early. You have time to practise your letters. When she remained standing with an apprehensive look on her face, he frowned. Something the matter?


    My writing is so ugly, sheined. I couldnt possibly write as elegant as you. I feel like I am wasting parchment.


    Quill gave a wry smile. That is why I make you wash the writing away, so you can use the parchment again.


    Its still a waste of ink, she spoke with gloom.


    Kate, Quill spoke with a stern voice. Do you think these hands were born with the skill to write? He gestured with the aforementioned extremities. I was apprenticed at a younger age than you and spent the better part of a decade before my master let me near any books with a feather pen.


    Yes, Master Quill, Kate said in surrender, going to the scriptorium.


    Not long after, there was a soft knock on the door to the library. Do you want me to open, Master Quill? Kate called out.


    Keep that quill writing rather than look for excuses, her master admonished her, answering the door himself. Outside stood a young nobleman in blue and brown colours; behind him stood a silent kingthane. Prince Inghard, Quill greeted him.


    Master Quill, came the reply along with a courteous bow. I concluded my reading and should like to procure another book.


    Already? It is fortunate this library has so many volumes, considering the pace with which you devour them.


    The best part of my brothers new title is the ess to the royal library, Inghard jested with a gentle smile, stepping inside. His protector remained outside, gazing down the hallway.


    Quill epted the book from Inghard. And what did our prince think of <em>Historie of the Thusund Ends? </em>Walking down the shelves, he returned the tome to its resting ce.


    It was fascinating, from the saga of Eirik Wyrmbane and after, Inghard replied. The insight into Thusund and the importance of its fleet, from raiding to trading and so forth.


    It was written by an inder, so take his word with a grain of salt, Quill cautioned, smiling. Still, I agree with your assessment.


    Do you have another like it?


    Quill gave another smile. I have many like it, but have our prince considered reading other material? I could suggest several books intended for the edification of young princes and future rulers.


    That sounds too much like what my tutors want me to read, Inghard revealed with a wry expression. I want something with stories in it.


    Quill searched for a brief while. How about the ount of Sir Etienne and the fall of Tricaster, the scribe suggested, handing it to Inghard.


    The prince epted the book and carefully opened to the first page. His face lit up into a smile. This looks excellent! Thank you, Master Quill.


    Enjoy, the library keeper replied, watching Inghard leave; the prince was already reading as he walked, nearly stumbling into the kingthane waiting outside.


    ~~~~


    Some days after Konstans conversation with Theobald, the proposed changes had taken effect. This meant that when Valerie descended to the dungeons, she found two Red Hawks guarding the prisoners instead of Order soldiers.


    You cant be down here, mdy, one of them began to speak.


    I am the daughter of Jarl Vale, she cut him off. I am here to speak to one of the prisoners.


    The Hawks exchanged nces. Her father pays the silver, one of them remarked with a shrug. The other got up and took the keys that were hanging on a nail on the wall.


    Which prisoner?


    Lord Isenwald.


    Not much lord left in him, snickered the guard sitting down.


    The other Hawk unlocked the doors into Isenwalds cell. Leave us, Valeriemanded. Once alone in the hallway, she hastened inside the cell. Isenwald rose clumsily, being hindered by his chains. As she raised her hand holding a candle, the flickering light fell upon his face, which looked feverish in its paleness. Valerie recoiled at the sight.


    You should note here, he admonished her. Nothing but hopelessness marked his expression.


    On the contrary, I should havee long ago. I wanted to give my father time to forget his anger towards us, but that was a mistake, Valerie admitted ruefully.


    You should not be here, he merely reiterated, sitting down and looking away.


    She found a seat on the squalid bed next to him; he shook his head, refusing to look at her. I have not given up pleading for leniency in your case.


    Valerie, he muttered while staring at the stonewall. What good wille from  instilling false hope? The penalty for treason is  death, nothing else.


    Isenwald, you warned me and my family. If not for you, I would be where you now sit.


    Knowing that, I can ept my fate.


    My father will see that you deserve mercy, Valerie argued forcefully.


    He finally turned to look at her. My father always tried to teach me how to rule. I never learned much, but this  I know. If your enemy  is at your mercy, you  do not show any mercy. You finish  it.


    My father is different from yours, Valerie pointed out. Not to cast aspersions on your father, she added.


    No need, Isenwald smiled without mirth. He has  done that to himself better than any  one else could.


    There is another way, she spoke hesitantly. I am to wed Prince Hardmar. Isenwald stared at her speechless. In this new position, I am confident I can secure a pardon for you.


    Congrattions, he spoke at length.


    Do not be angered, Valerie implored him. It may save your life.


    I am not. As queen, you will be safe. I am happy to hear this.


    You do not have to pretend with me.


    Please, Isenwald pleaded. Knowing  I sit here and not you  is all the sce  I have. My brother and my uncle, the people  dearest to me besides you, are fated to  die. I will never see my mothers face again. My  only defence is to avoid thinking, to have the  days pass swiftly and hope this ends soon. Do not make me hope, do not make me think. He took a deep breath, staring at Valerie with hisrge eyes, having possibly spoken more words in session than ever before in his life.


    Valerie, on the other hand, sat in silence for a long time. As you wish, she finally remarked. Given what I owe you, I can only respect your wishes. Is there nothing I can do for you, then?


    Write a letter to my mother, Isenwald instructed her. Tell her  I met my fate with  honour, as a son  of  Isarn. Tell her she can be proud  of me and not to weep for me, for  I regret nothing.


    I will, Valerie promised. She ced her hand on his cold, damp cheek, making him lean into her touch. I am also proud of you, Isenwald of Isarn, she told him, leaning forward to kiss his lips. Before he could react, she got up and left the cell.


    ~~~~


    Theodwyn was holding court as usual in her parlour, surrounded by handmaidens and noblewomen, when her brother strode through the room; he went straight from the corridor to his chamber. All the women except Theodwyn hurried to stand, many of them bowing as well with various degrees of servility, whereas the jarl barely afforded them a nce. Once he had passed, the women sat down and resumed conversation, except for Holwyn, who left to follow her master to his room.


    How did it go? she asked, closing the door behind her.


    Marcasters disdain for northerners has only grown more pronounced ever since he was Athelstans captive, Theodoric remarked while removing his outer clothing, making himself morefortable. He could scarcely contain it in my presence.


    Did his disdain close his ears or tongue?


    Possibly. The jarl gave a shrug. He was hard to read, but I think he is considering currying favour with our new prince. I did not press the subject. If he is on that path already, I might send him off course by prodding him.


    That is one gap in Vales southern alliance, Holwynmented.


    Not enough if he can rely on Ingmond. Theodoric rubbed the bridge of his nose. We need to make enemies of Vale and Ingmond.


    I have my sources within Ingmonds household, but they reveal little, Holwyn informed him. The jarl refuses to see anyone. He seems utterly indifferent to everything. His chambein and his steward make all decisions in his stead.


    His grief consumes him, Theodoric considered. Perhaps we should remind Ingmond that Vale was warned about Isarns plot and fled Middanhal beforehand, yet left Ingmond and his family behind. In some ways, Vale could be considered responsible for the death of Ingmonds family.


    That would have to be suggested very delicately, Holwyn cautioned.


    Of course, Theodoric replied brusquely. Outside the room, they could hear Theodwyn exin in detail her examination by the court physician, his concern for her deteriorating health in these stressful conditions, and how she had been mandated to take a walk each evening in the fresh air to stimte her heart. Gods, if only my sister would spend all waking hours elsewhere, he muttered. Something else, he added abruptly.


    Yes, milord?


    I met Valerians daughter at Marcasters home. She is friends with his daughter, I think.


    Lady Valerie? What of her?


    She approached me in the corridor when we were alone. She asked my opinion on the Isarn prisoners.


    Holwyn frowned as well. It was Lord Isenwald who warned her of his fathers plot. Presumably there is affection between them.


    Ill-fated affection, the jarl added with a touch of scorn. I got the impression she wanted to know if I might oppose their execution once the Adalthing convenes.


    The girl is a dreamer, Holwyn remarked with a sardonic smile.


    She is, but her father is lord protector, she will wed our crown prince, and that gives her influence. Keep watch of her.


    I imagine one of her servants will not mind earning some extra silver, Holwyn spected.


    Not too much. Paying all these spies is ruining me, the jarlined.


    You cant put a price on knowledge, his servant smiled.


    You can, Theodoric replied dryly. In this case, the price is ten silver a month at most.


    You old miser, Holwyn grinned.


    ~~~~


    The emissary of Duke Belvoir asked me to ry that he needs to be seen by you soon, preferably today, Eolf informed his master.


    Konstans looked up from his desk with a tired expression. It was long past sunset on this particr day, and the dragonlord had barely left his study since morning. Tell him I will see him now. But give me a few moments first, he instructed the servant. Eolf nodded and left. Once alone, Konstans poured himself a healthy amount of wine into his cup and emptied it immediately.


    The envoy entered soon after, wearing his customary broad smile. My lord Konstans, he spoke in greeting, followed by an borate bow.


    Master Guilbert, Konstans replied, gesturing to a seat. I thought you intended to stay in Middanhal until past the Raven Days, yet now you require an audience with all haste?


    Forgive me if misced words have caused any offence. Guilbert was swift to adopt an apologetic expression. I meant nock of respect by assuming my news would be of urgent interest to your lordship.


    What news? Konstans frowned, and his hand moved towards the wine jar before he stopped himself.


    A letter from my master. The duke has been told by King Rainier to bring his army to Fontaine once the Raven Days are over. The king no longer merely wants my master to prepare arms and soldiers. He hasmanded the duke to march out.


    Konstans brow was knitted in thought. To Fontaine, you say.


    Guilbert nodded. Which also means that King Rainier does not target Tricaster.


    Because Fontaine is the opposite direction of Tricaster, so if your duke is to march away from his home, it must be to target Herbergja, Konstans concluded.


    That is also the result of my masters considerations, Guilbert exined with a worried look. There is still time for you to decide whether you would support my master in his endeavours to safeguard the Realms, the envoy continued without borating what those endeavours might be. If not, Duke Gaspard will be forced to follow themands of his liege. There is still time, he reiterated, but not much.


    I understand, Konstans replied. Thank you for informing me.


    Merely my duty. Guilberts smile returned as he stood up and bowed before the dragonlord, taking his leave. Konstans remained sitting in his chair, twirling an hourss between his fingers while staring out the window upon a dark, cloudy night.

 Chapter 76: The Heart of a Hero

    Chapter 76: The Heart of a Hero


    The Heart of a Hero


    Middanhal


    Middanhal barely had time to settle after the shocking tidings regarding the conquest of Tothmor before it happened again. The town criers made themselves hoarse proiming the victory over the ounders near Polisals and the subsequent capture of the city. This provoked even greater jubtions than Tothmor had; merchants sighed in relief, housewives wept from joy, and men everywhere rejoiced knowing that the salt mines at Polisals had been freed, banishing the spectre of famine from everyones minds. There would be enough salt to preserve and cure all the food needed to get through next winter. Immediately, the price of salt, which had steadily been risingst year, fell to half of yesterdays price.


    Details of the battle were announced as well, including one particr bit that the town criers revelled in revealing. As the battle for Polisals was hanging in the bnce, the young knight Sir Adalbrand charged into the fray. Disdaining danger and defying death, he duelled the enemy captain and slew his foe, demoralising the ounders and dispatching them to flight. For this deed, the drakonians among the Order soldiers hailed him as Dragonheart upon the battlefield, an honourst bestowed upon thete Prince Sigmar.


    In the dark winter days, such stories spread throughout the city with some difficulty at first; people did not like to linger on the streets to listen to town criers, nor were they inclined to leave thefort of their homes for the purpose of visiting others. Yet being the only recent tale of note, it was eventually retold and recounted at every hearth every night. And each time, embellishments grew a little more, numbers rose a bit, deeds and heroics became greater, and the legend of the Dragonheart increased in stature.


    ~~~~


    Inside their quarters in the fortress, the Red Hawks were only too happy to leave patrolling of the city and Citadel to the Order soldiers. They crowded around the fireces and only went into town reluctantly, usually to procure what could not be found in the castle. Left mostly to their own devices, their activities were primarily gambling with their pay or spending it on drink, preferably both. A few of the mercenaries had taken advantage of this, braving the cold weather to bring back barrels of beer and the asional delicacies from the market that were avable to buy in deep winter.


    Having set up an improvised tavern, Jerome the heathman was slowly, but surely filling his pockets. A good deal of his ie came from the Dwarf Jorund, whereas their mutual friend Gawad from the south straddled both sides of the fence; some days, he helped Jerome to make a little extra silver, other days he spent that silver to share a drink with Jorund.


    On one of the former days, Gawad had brought back the news from town concerning the victory at Polisals; tonight was one of thetter days, where he joined Jorund in drink and dice. Tell it again, Jorund pleaded with a wry smile.


    You know every detail, Gawadined.


    So make sure you include all of it. Dont forget the start, Jorund impressed upon him.


    Anyone else could do it, they all know it as well as me, Gawad argued.


    Jorund shook his head. They dont have your lovely way of speaking Mearcspeech. Come on, Ill give the next round.


    Its your turn anyway, Jerome interjected.


    Then Gawad better tell it if he wants to be sure he gets his next drink, Jorund imed with a sour nce at Jerome.


    Fine, Gawad acquiesced. He cleared his throat. Hear all, hear all, he called out, imitating a town crier. The Order army, only days after victory at Tothmor, has marched north and met the armies of the cruel ounders upon the ins of Polisals. Outnumbered, wounded, and weary after theirtest battle, the Order soldiers were pressed but took victory under the leadership of the knight captain Adalbrand, lord of House Arnling


    ~~~~


    Walking down the stairs to the dungeons, Arndis came to a halt as she saw two Hawks in the guardroom. You are not Order soldiers, she said with a light frown.


    Astute, one of them remarked. This ce is off bounds.


    I need to see one of the prisoners, Arndis told them.


    That may be, but it wont happen. Time to leave, mdy.


    What is the harm in letting me visit?


    The harm is our lieutenant will keep our pay, snorted one of the Hawks. Were not taking that risk.


    She nced at the table between the soldiers, which held both dice and scattered ying cards. Do you men enjoy gambling? she asked.


    Whats it to you?


    Arndis opened the small coin bag in her belt and took out a handful of silver coins. I will make a wager with you. She stacked the coins on the table. I wager that if you let me inside one of the cells, none will ever be the wiser. If I am wrong, you might have trouble with your lieutenant. If I am right, you get to keep this silver.


    One of the soldiers frowned. Wait, if you win, we get to keep the coin? Thats not how wagers work.


    The other Hawk stood up. You half-baked moron, he sneered at hispanion. She is giving us the coin for looking the other way. Fine by me, he continued, looking at Arndis. I already lost this weeks pay, I swear those dice are cursed. Which prisoner?


    Athelstan of Isarn, she told him with a smile. He is that way.


    ~~~~


    Master Quill, did you hear? Kate was barely past the door before she yelled at her master, short of breath from having rushed up the stairs.


    Kate, you are in the kings library, Quill admonished her. Decorum, please.


    She frowned. What does that mean?


    It means you should behave and not shout in my library.


    Oh. Im sorry, she mumbled.


    Better. What is it you wished to tell me?


    Did you hear about the battle? There was another one, and the Order won!


    I heard, Quill smiled. I do not spend the entirety of my days alone in this tower.


    Of course, Kate acknowledged, though there was a tinge of disappointment in her voice. Someone else told you.


    The old scribe gave a nod. I took the noon meal in the hall today. Everyone was as eager to share the news as you are.


    Right. Kates enthusiasm quickly returned. Its rather exciting, isnt it? Egil told me once there would be war, and I didnt think it would be interesting because it was in another realm, but he was right.


    It certainly does excite, Quill granted, though only because to us, Hthiod is so far away. Imagine if these were tidings of a battle fought up north between our forces and the rebels of Isarn, and imagine the battle had gone ill. We should all be less excited, I think.


    I suppose. Kates mood dropped again.


    What might be interesting to consider, Quill continued, is that the letter bringing these news to Middanhal was most likely written by Egil.


    Really? Her mood as ever-changing as the moon, Kates spirit shot upwards at the mention of Egil.


    I think so. He is apanying Sir Adalbrand as his personal scribe. I imagine he writes all his correspondence and missives.


    Kate blinked a few times. I cant imagine Egil in a war camp, surrounded by soldiers and knights on horses. Or near a battle! Do you think he is in danger?


    No, no. Quill shook his head. I am sure Sir Adalbrand would not allow that.


    Still. Kate chewed on her lower lip. Were you not worried about Egil when you sent him so far away?


    A little, Quill admitted. But Egil has many long years ahead of him in this dusty tower. If he is to keep the annals after me and record the history of the Seven Realms, he should have some knowledge and observations of how that history is made.


    I guess you know best. Even so, Ill feel better when Egil is home again, Kate dered.


    Me too, Quill confessed. Now, there are pens to sharpen and ink to make. To work!


    Yes, master!


    ~~~~


    <em>My feint worked. The ounder captain thought I had fallen, making me vulnerable, but I retained control of my footing. Once he approached to deliver a killing blow, I took him by surprise,</em> Arndis read aloud. <em>Leaping to my feet, my shield trapped his sword for but a moment, but a moment was all I needed. Unable to deflect, my sword took his neck. Upon his death, his soldiers quickly lost their appetite for fighting and fled. I was so exhausted when this happened, I did not realise at first what came after. Only as the chant rose did I hear my soldiers title me as Dragonheart, but it is a title I cherish. These men have endured great ordeals upon my orders, and their admiration is all the reward amander could ever want.</em>


    What a battle! came an outburst from Athelstan. Does he write more?


    Arndis looked down at the letter in her hands, squinting her eyes in the weak candle light. Merely pleasantries and well-wishes to me.


    Athelstan gave a sigh. What I would not give to be in his boots. There is nothing as ting, as intoxicating as hard-won victory.


    A feeling you have often known if rumour be true.


    On asion. Athelstan exhaled and smiled. Thank you, Lady Arndis, for this gift along with yourpany.


    It was nothing, she blushed; the red colour on her cheeks could barely be seen in the darkness.


    A jar of water seems like nothing except to a man in the desert.


    You are as gifted with words as you are in war, Arndis told him, almost in chiding fashion.


    We fight with swords upon the battlefield and words anywhere else, Athelstan dered. If I could wield only one weapon, I would choose words any day.


    Words are the only weapon avable to me, Arndis considered. That said, you are correct to some extent. I have seen words cause men to halt their swords, but there are also men who would happily use their swords to silence the words of others.


    Agreed, Athelstan nodded. I have had plenty of time to reflect in here. Perhaps my contemtions would be different had my circumstances also been different, but it seems obvious now that cing might over right brings only disaster. He raised his arms, making his chains rattle.


    I am sorry about your current  predicament, Arndis said cautiously.


    As am I, he replied with a bitter smile. But who can I me but myself? My brother, perhaps, yet in the end, I chose to follow him. I could have refused.


    There was hesitation before Arndis posed her question. Why did you not refuse him?


    Athelstan sat silent for a while. It was not that I believed him to be right. Rather, I believed the rest to be wrong. He gave an awkward smile. I suppose that makes little sense.


    You may need to borate, she admitted.


    I know my brothers failings. I did not follow him because I imagined he would be the king we needed. I followed him because I despaired at all I had seen within the Order and the realms. In my arrogance, I believed this path gave me the possibility to mend it all.


    What made you despair? If my question is not out of bounds, Arndis hurried to add.


    I am so starved for conversation, you could ask me anything, Athelstan confessed. The Orders campaign in Heohlond was gruesome. Your father was right to seek an end to it, and they killed him for it. Neither the lord marshal nor the knight marshal were men equal to the responsibility given them, and they both died ignoble deaths as a result.


    Did you know my father well?


    Athelstan paused. I knew him. At the battle of Cairn Donn, we fought together side by side, which forges kinship between men. He was a good man, Arngrim of House Arnling, and I was saddened by his death.


    I do not have many memories of him, Arndis confided in him. I am not sure if I truly remember how he looks, or I simply remember the portrait of him hanging in our house.


    I think you were in his thoughts. When I was recalled to Middanhal to be sent to Alczar, he asked me to bring Brand as my squire, far away from Adalrik, and extend the protection of my house to you and your mother, Athelstan exined kindly.


    I never knew.


    In my absence, there was little I could do. I told my brother, but Isenhart was never the sort to care for such promises. Of course, now it is my house that could use the protection of yours, Athelstan remarked with hollowughter.


    Arndis nced out at the corridor. I have been here a long time. I think it best I leave rather than risk discovery. I shall return another day if you wish it.


    I do, Athelstan eximed, staring at her with eyes starved for light. I wish it fervently.


    Until next time, Arndis told him, and he bowed in farewell to her.


    ~~~~


    Although the dragonlord had an entire wing at his disposal, he stayed there alone. His family, meaning his wife and son, had chambers in the same part of the pce as the rest of the House of Vale. Konstantine spent most of his time in idle fashion; now that he was no longer the heir presumptive to the jarldom of Vale, his uncle had stopped pressuring him to learn what being a jarl entailed, and his father was too busy ruling the realm to make any demands. The only two people that Konstantine saw much of was his cousin, Valerie, and his mother, thedy Mathilde.


    Are you in here, my boy?


    Yes, Mother, he replied.


    She found him lying on his bed, ying with grapes before eating them. Eat properly, she admonished him, and he sat up straight.


    Yes, Mother.


    Mathilde sat down next to him on the bed, caressing his hair. You seem restless, my son.


    I am fine, he told her with slightly confusion. I was just lying down, doing nothing.


    Is doing nothing really a fitting way for you to spend your time? You, the descendants of jarls, not to mention you have royal blood on your mothers side.


    I know, Mother, you told me, Konstantine said in an indulgent tone. Your great-grandfather was king of Ealond long, long ago.


    Not so long ago, she sniffed. Regardless, my point is, do you not feel the urge to do something? Make something of yourself?


    Uncle has a new heir, he shrugged. I will not be jarl or anything else.


    Only if you ept your fate, Mathilde imed. Your father was not born to a title either, and now he is dragonlord. Your prospects are even better, for you have me as your mother.


    Konstantine gave her an odd look. There is really not much you can do, Mother. Things are the way they are.


    Nonsense. I expect more from you, Konstantine, do you hear me? I expect you to make your mark on the world.


    Very well, Mother. The indulgent tone returned with full force in Konstantines voice.


    Do you hear me? Mathildes voice, hitherto moving between caring and stern, turned harsh. If opportunity presents itself, I expect you to seize it with both hands. Do not dare growcent, do you understand?


    Yes, Mother, I understand, Konstantine mumbled, seeming suddenly like a child.


    Good, she smiled. Get some sleep, dear child. It will keep you strong. She bade him goodnight with a final caress.

 Chapter 77: The Long Path

    Chapter 77: The Long Path


    The Long Path


    Middanhal


    Several weeks after the battle of Polisals, as snow fell on thendscape, a lone wanderer walked the Kingsroad between Inghold and Middanhal. He rarely stopped except to sleep, and he only did so for an hour at a time. Whenever he was awake again, he would walk, day or night; eating and drinking he aplished while on the move. A heavy cloak and a hat shielded him from the snow, whichy so thick on his clothes, they seemed dyed white. A walking staff made of solid ckthornpleted his appearance.


    With heavy steps, the wanderer approached Middanhal. Ity as always upon its hill nked by the great peaks of the Weolcan Mountains, Valmark to the west and Wyrmpeak to the east. They were perennially snow-capped, but now the white colour descended all the way down the mountain slopes until reaching the paved road, crunching underneath his boots. The ck banners of the Order were a stark contrast to the snow-white walls and towers of the city. Upon the fortifications, dark-d soldiers watched with disbelief this singr wanderer walk up towards the gate, having traversed the opennd despite snowstorm and freezing cold.


    As he stood before the intricately carved gates, Godfrey gave a smile. Always good to be back, he muttered to himself.


    ~~~~


    Looks the same, Godfrey remarked as he stepped inside the library hall. Turning to his left, he saw Quill enter from the scriptorium.


    Sidi! he eximed.


    You always name me such when we have not met in a while, Godfrey smiled.


    Old habits die slow in old men. They sped hands in greeting. But I am ever d to see you, Godfrey.


    You too, old friend. The traveller sat down, releasing a sigh of contentment.


    Long journey?


    I came from the siege at Lakon. I have had little rest since then.


    Long journey.


    Before that, I was in the Reach.


    The scribe shuddered. That evil ce.


    There is unrest among the Godkings subjects, Godfrey revealed, but the price is steep, and steeped in blood for that matter. Sooner orter, he will turn his full attention upon Adalmearc again.


    Adalrik is still torn by war, Quill mentioned while shaking his head.


    Yes. Do you have something to drink? Godfrey asked suddenly. I am dry beyond belief.


    Of course, of course, the scribe told him, quickly fetching water in a cup.


    Godfrey took it with both hands and drank greedily. Thank you. That was needed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Yes, Adalrik. We cannot do anything about this civil war. Our hope must lie with the Order being strong instead.


    That seems a frail hope, given that the Ordercks leadership.


    It could be worse. I had my doubts about your friend, the young Adalbrand, but his skills as amander are unmatched. If he is given a strong Order army, I believe he can hold the Godking at bay and push the ounders back beyond the Langstan.


    Gods grant you are right, Quill prayed.


    Gods grant me some sleep, Godfrey remarked dryly. He nced around. For a moment, I wondered where your apprentice was at, but I remember now. I met him in the camp near Lakon.


    Egil? How is he?


    Boy seems fine, Godfrey assured Quill. His adventures have not caused him harm. And if he is there, I assume his room is avable, he added with a wry smile.


    Quill gestured towards the empty chamber that belonged to his apprentice. All yours.


    Do not wake me even if the tower is on fire, Godfrey instructed him, retreating to his amodations.


    If the tower is on fire, Quill replied after a moment, I would not give you a second thought, I am saving the books!


    ~~~~


    The next day, the wanderer stepped onto the streets of Middanhal again, leaving the Citadel. He met few other people; even Order patrols were scarce. Following the Arnsweg south, he reached the Temple square, whichy open and near deserted. The weather was too poor for the peddlers to bring their stalls and goods, and any seeking to buy would have to venture into the shops in the nearby quarters for craftsmen and merchants. Despite the frost, a few others joined Godfrey in crossing the Temple square to enter the sacred building itself; regardless of weather and season, some were always asking the gods for favours or bringing them offerings out of gratitude.


    The two Temrs standing guard by the entrance did not seem affected by the bitter cold; they gave a barely perceptible nod to Godfrey as they spotted him, which he returned in like manner. While other visitors all went to ce some form of tribute at the Alfathers altar, even if just a copper coin, Godfrey did not. He left the Hall of Holies immediately, walking through the corridors until he spotted a priest in ck robe. Tell the Highfather that Godfrey is here to see him, he instructed the priest, who bowed his head and hurried away wordlessly.


    A brief while passed until an old man in grey robes approached Godfrey. You are back, Septimus stated simply.


    We need to speak.


    The old priest beckoned towards a corridor, and Godfrey followed him down the chosen path. After passing through several winding hallways, they entered the private chamber of the high priest. What is amiss?


    Too much to name, came the reply. This civil war in Adalrik does not promise to end soon.


    It is beyond our power to influence, Septimus stated.


    Godfrey nodded, sitting down on a simple chair; the austere chamber had few other pieces of furniture. I am hoping the Order will prove strong enough if it can marshal all its forces.


    The Order is without leadership, the priest pointed out.


    I n to remedy that, though it will take me months if not longer. It seems that no matter how fast I run, time is running out faster. Godfrey apanied his words with a bitter smile.


    How can you aplish this?


    The marshals, Godfrey dered. I will seek out Korndale first, Ealond afterwards, continue to Thusund, Vidrevi, and so forth until I am done.


    Septimus exhaled, sitting down on his bed. Quite a journey. You will end up in all the Seven Realms, almost.


    Very likely.


    What can I do?


    I have enlisted a youngmander, Sir Adalbrand, Godfrey exined.


    I have met him, Septimus smiled. Very self-assured, but not without reason.


    Along with Sir William of Tothmor, he will lead our Order forces. Sir William should be travelling to Middanhal to seek support for our campaign into the Reach.


    Septimus eyes widened. You think an invasion is possible?


    I do not think permanent victory is within hands reach, but we cannot simply fight a defensive war. If so, we will be whittled down little by little.


    What do you require of me?


    Support Sir William and Sir Adalbrand in what ways you can. With the lords of Adalrik busy fighting among themselves, our good knights will need any aid possible if they are to mount a campaign, Godfrey instructed the priest.


    It will be done.


    Good.


    On another note, Septimus continued. If you travel to Ealond, I have a message you might deliver.


    Why not? Godfrey smiled. The role as the Highfathers servant always serves me well.


    ~~~~


    The same day, the wanderer left the Temple. Following the Arnsweg south once more, he crossed the great city. Reaching the river Mihtea, he walked onto the Arnsbridge. On either side of the construction, he was nked by statues of the kings of Adalrik; a few stubborn snowkes managed to stick to the carved stone despite the howling wind. Walking past them, Godfrey mumbled the names of each king, sometimes smiling, sometimes twisting his face into a scornful expression.


    Having crossed the Arnsbridge and the Mihtea, Godfrey reached Lowtown, the slums thaty between the southern bank of the river and the outer walls. Sticking to the main road, he encountered neither people nor trouble and soon found himself before Saltgate. The Order soldiers gave him a fewzy nces but otherwise showed no interest; there was only a toll for entering the city, not leaving it.


    Passing under the stone arch of the gatehouse, Godfrey took a deep breath; before him stretched the Kingsroad all the way south to Plenmont in Korndale. Back to it again, he mumbled, stepping onto the path.

 Chapter 78: Quenching the Thirst

    Chapter 78: Quenching the Thirst


    Quenching the Thirst


    Middanhal


    Tell me. Themand was spoken by Konstans to his brothers chambein, Arion.


    Other lords have received the same summons. King Rainier is gathering his troops in Fontaine, Arion exined. They were meeting one cold morning in the dragonlords study, some weeks before the Raven Days and while Godfrey was still journeying to Middanhal from Hthiod.


    Anything at all to indicate the kings ns?


    There is no unrest anywhere in Ealond to quell. While many of his vassals demurred when he took the throne, none have openly defied the king.


    Herbergja, Konstans mumbled. The kings of Ealond have an unhealthy obsession with that city. Rainier must know that he cannot hope to conquer, let alone keep Herbergja without a fleet stronger than what Thusund can muster.


    The king seems to believe otherwise.


    What else have you learned?


    Nothing more about Ealond, Arion replied with regret. I am waiting to hear from your reeve in Hthiod. I do bear news from the south.


    Yes?


    Rumour in Plenmont is that King Adrd seeks to marry Arndis of House Arnling. He is sending his army into Hthiod to assist Sir Adalbrand as a token of thising union. Your reeve sends this. He ced a letter upon his masters desk.


    Konstans leaned back in his seat, frowning. I wondered what kept Adrd asleep for so long. Everything falls into ce now, he considered. Adrd strengthens his im by marrying another dragonborn. Hebines his army with the Order forces in Hthiod, led by an undefeatedmander. When these two, king and knight, march into Middanhal toy im to the Dragon Throne, who can oppose them?


    But they cannot both take the throne, Arion reminded his master. Is it the king or the knight who seeks to be crowned?


    It does not matter to us, Konstans countered. Either way, we will be an obstacle to be removed. He exhaled through gritted teeth. It is obvious now. These dispatches spreading the news of Adalbrands victories. He isying the foundation for his treason.


    The Order, Korndale, Ealond, Arion muttered. It does not bode well.


    The dragonlord of Adalrik sat quiet for a while. I must take action. Tell the envoy from Belvoir toe see me in a few days, he instructed the chambein. Return to me afterwards. There is much we must attend to.


    ~~~~


    A few hourster, Konstans entered the royal wing. The kingthanes noticed his approach, but did not hinder the dragonlord, and he was allowed straight ess to the parlour by the royal chambers.


    My prince, Konstans greeted Hardmar while inclining his head. May we speak in private?


    Lord Konstans, the prince spoke affably. He saw sitting down with a cup of wine in his hands, evidently in a good mood. Leave us, hemanded, causing Berimund and another kingthane to vacate the room. What brings you here?


    You recall that I promised to watch Adalbrand in case he became a threat, Konstans reminded him. I have recently learned that he has joined an alliance with the king of Korndale.


    An alliance? What for? Hardmar frowned.


    The king will wed Adalbrands sister, tying them together. The kings armies will march to Hthiod, where no doubt the treasonous knight will takemand of them. Given that his father died a rebel in Heohlond, it is no wonder that the son follows the same path.


    I knew it! eximed Hardmar. He has always coveted my crown. He must be stopped!


    I have a n to do so, Konstans exined. Adalbrand is beyond our reach in Hthiod, surrounded by Order troops. He must be lured to Middanhal, isted.


    How can that be done? Since he ns treachery, he will be wary of anything we do, interjected the prince.


    As atheling, Adalbrand has a seat in the Adalthing. If it is convened to discuss unrted matters, he will have a reason toe to Middanhal. Furthermore, the protection of thendfrid will make him feel safe and not suspect anything.


    Clever, Hardmar granted. Some of the nobles may grumble that we break thendfrid and seize Adalbrand, but as a traitor, the kings peace does not extend to him regardless.


    I have no such intentions, Konstans eximed, sounding almost shocked. If we break the sacred peace of the Adalthing, every member will turn against us. We need the Adalthing to formally dere Adalbrand a traitor, but if we imprison him while he is under the protection of thendfrid, the noblemen would see him freed purely out of spite if nothing else.


    Are they fools? Why would they protect a traitor? Indignation overflowed in Hardmars voice.


    Because if thendfrid protects a traitor, it also protects them, Konstans exined impatiently. I have a better way. The peace only extends two weeks before the Adalthing assembles. We simply make sure Adalbrand arrives in Middanhal earlier than that.


    I see, Hardmar remarked doubtfully. How will you aplish that?


    Trust me, my prince, as your dragonlord. Solving such problems is my responsibility.


    Very well, the prince dered. Aplish this, and you shall have my utmost satisfaction. My dissatisfaction will be of equal measure, should you fail.


    That will not happen, Konstans imed tight-lipped. He gave a curt nod and turned on his heel, leaving with speed.


    ~~~~


    While Konstantine sometimes sought out other young noblemen at the court for games and merriment, living in close quarters with his family meant that his evenings were mostly subdued in nature. The Red Hawks, who by now kept watch over most of the Citadel courtside, had furthermore been instructed to ensure the dragonlords son stayed out of trouble. Because of this, Mathilde was rarely disappointed when seeking out her son in his chamber.


    Konstantine, she called out as she walked inside. Unlike other times when she visited him, her voice was heavy.


    I am here, Mother, he answered, looking up from his bed.


    Sit up, she told him, and when he did so, she sat down next to him. Konstantine, my son, you do not seem content.


    I have nothing toin about, he told her. It is dull here, but so would Valcaster be, or Uncles house if it had not been burned down.


    I mean discontent with your lot in life, Mathilde borated, prompting confusion to spread across her sons face. As your mother, it is my task to remedy that. I have spoken with your father, and we have devised a solution.


    You spoke with Father?


    She nodded. There is something very simple you can do, which will thrust you out of the shadows and into your rightful ce again. I have arranged everything, but I need to see you take action yourself. Your father needs to know you deserve this.


    Deserve what?


    Mathilde took out a small con from inside her clothing. Tonight, Valerius nurse will sleep heavily. I have seen to it. Myself, I promised Alexandra to stay with her in her room. She sleeps poorly ofte. The woman gave a smile. This is for you. She thrust the small sk into Konstantines hand.


    I do not understand, he said confused.


    Tonight, you will not be disturbed. None will be awake. Go into Valerius room and let these drops fall into his mouth.


    What on earth for?


    To prove you are my son, Mathilde told him harshly. To prove your father worthy. Do you think he is satisfied having an idle son, lying about all day?


    But what will this do? Unease overflowed Konstantines face.


    It will set things right. She grabbed his chin with her hand, staring directly at him. Are you a child still, my son?


    No, Mother, he mumbled awkwardly through her grip.


    Do this, or do not expect to be part of our family, she told him as her nails dug into his cheeks. She relinquished her hold on him and stood up; despite her short stature, she seemed imposing inparison to his seated position. Tonight. Do not disappoint me, she impressed upon him. As she left, he stared down at the sk that was clutched in his hand still.


    ~~~~


    It was long past the hours when the dragonlord gave audience, yet he had a visitor nheless. Jerome of the Red Hawks sat in the seat opposite Konstans desk, staring at the nobleman with either curiosity or suspicion in his eyes.


    I am told you are the kind of man I need, Konstans dered.


    That depends on what kind of man you seek, milord, the heathman replied.


    I need someone who will do exactly as I say, no matter what it is, no matter what it takes. Who is motivated by coin more than anything.


    Jerome raised an eyebrow. Usually, lords want loyalty first and foremost.


    I am practical. I have more gold at my disposal than anyone else in the Seven Realms. I find it hard to trust a man who is loyal merely by his honour, but a man loyal to gold, that man I can trust, Konstans exined.


    Theres reason in that.


    Konstans took out a heavy bag that filled out his hand. We will start with silver for now. This bag is yours if you aplish a task for me.


    Jerome eyed the coin purse greedily. What do you need done, milord?


    Tonight, I want you to sneak into my brothers bedchamber. As a Red Hawk, you should have no trouble getting there, and my brother sleeps alone. Konstans retrieved a small sk with his other hand. He always has a cup of wine standing by his bedside. Pour this vial into the wine without being noticed by any. Return to me by morning for your payment.


    Whats in it?


    If you get paid, does it matter? asked Konstans.


    No, the other man admitted. Why not do it yourself, milord? You have easier ess than anyone.


    He is my brother. It should not be done by my hand.


    Jerome licked his lips. And after I do this, should I expect to find my own wine someday spiced in the same manner?


    If you leave no trace, what reason would I have for that? Konstans hefted the coin purse in his hand. Enough questions. The choice is yours. Do you want the coin or not?


    Aye, Jerome answered and extended his hand to take the vial. Ill do it.


    ~~~~


    As night fell, the interior of the Citadel became quiet except for the asional kingthane, Hawk, or Order soldier walking rounds or relieving arade from his post. In her chamber, Valerie woke. She reached out to grab a cup standing by her bed only to find it empty. With an annoyed look, she got out of bed and left her room. She stumbled around in the darkness of the hallway until she reached one of the parlours and found a pitcher. Filling her cup, she took a hearty draught. Only then did she look back at the corridor she hade from, and the sight of frail light made her frown.


    Walking towards it, she saw that it came from Valerius room; the door was ajar. She peered inside. The small chamber had an alcove, from which snoring sounds were emitted; the childs nurse was fast asleep. The boy himself made no sound; he was lying in his cradle. Sitting next to it, holding a candle, was Konstantine. The young man sat on the floor with one hand on the childs bed, gently rocking it.


    Konstantine, Valerie whispered. What are you doing in here? She stepped inside, closing the door behind her.


    He was making sounds, Konstantine exined. I was just rocking him to help him fall asleep.


    Valerie took another step to stand next by the cradle and touched the boys cheek with her hand. He stirred a little but continued sleeping. He seems fine now, she told Konstantine, sitting down next to him. You can probably go back to bed.


    I will stay, he dered, staring at the empty door. Until morning. In case he needs me again.


    There is kindness in you, Valerie said affectionately. You should show it more often.


    Perhaps. He paused. What is it like, now you have a brother?


    Konstantine, I have always had a brother, Valerie admonished him. You and I grew up as close as siblings. Granted, I disliked you the first year or two when you did nothing but cry, but you have grown on me, she grinned.


    That is good. He gave a faint smile. It is good to have family.


    He is lucky, Valerie said and nodded towards the sleeping Valerius. Lucky to have you as his older brother. All the things you will teach him when he grows up.


    Yes, Konstantine spoke. I will take care of him, he promised, staring at the closed door.


    ~~~~


    Close by, a Red Hawk moved through the wing upied by the House of Vale. He walked past the empty rooms belonging to Valerie and Konstantine, he heard the sounds of Alexandra and Mathilde sleeping in the formers chamber, he passed Valerius room with its closed door. Atst, he reached the innermost quarters. They were not locked; this location was deep inside the wing with many guards between here and the rest of the fortress. The door opened obediently to the mercenarys touch, and he walked inside.


    In the bed slept the jarl of Vale, the richest and most powerful man in Adalrik. A cup of wine stood nearby. The Hawk took out a small vial and poured its contents into the goblet; then he tucked the empty vial inside his garments. Within few moments and without causing a sound, Jerome was out in the hallway again.


    Leaving the wing, he eventually came across a few of his fellow Hawks making their patrols. Seen anything? they asked.


    Alls quiet, he told them. My watch is over. Time for me to get some sleep.


    Lucky, one of the Hawks said enviously.


    Very lucky, Jerome smiled.

 Chapter 79: Cards on the Table

    Chapter 79: Cards on the Table


    Cards on the Table


    Middanhal


    The following morning just as the sun rose, Jerome of the Red Hawks returned to the dragonlords atrium and was immediately admitted into audience. I did as youmanded, milord, he told Konstans. Theres been no sign of anything amiss so far. Nobody suspects anything.


    Nor will they, Konstans dered. There was only water in the vial. At worst, my brother will find his wine a little diluted this morning.


    Jerome frowned. Water? But I thought


    You thought I wanted my brother dead, Konstans stated. Never mind the chaos this would cause for me, including the election of a new lord protector.


    So what was this for?


    I needed to know if I could rely on you. If you are willing to kill my brother at my behest, the most powerful man in the realm, I expect you will carry out any other task I give you, Konstans exined.


    The Hawk gave a scowl. I dont like being tested.


    Konstans took out the coin purse fromst night and slid it across the table. You did as I asked. Here is payment as promised. You will find me a generous master.


    Jeromes face turned from displeasure to satisfaction. Anything you ask, milord.


    Good. I have another task for you. And this one, I assure you, is of the utmost importance.


    ~~~~


    The jarl of Theodstan sat in his parlour, ying cards with one servant when another entered hurriedly.


    Milord, Holwyn eximed, short of breath. I have just been told that the dragonlord is calling for assembly out of time.


    Are you sure? Theodorics voice was deeply sceptical.


    Completely. I believe the Quill has already been told to send out the summons.


    The jarl threw his cards on the table. What is so urgent they cannot wait until summer?


    Holebert gathered up the cards, shuffling them together. Maybe they want Jarl Isarn officially dered a traitor sooner rather thanter.


    Isenhart is safe in Silfrisarn now, which will not have changed when the Adalthing convenes at midsummer, the jarl said dismissively. If anything, it is the Isarn prisoners they want executed.


    Maybe they fear an escape attempt? Holwyn suggested. The guards in the dungeons are no longer Order soldiers but have been reced by Red Hawks.


    Could be, Theodoric considered. Or they have some agenda we cannot guess.


    I will listen for any whispers. See what we may learn, Holwyn dered.


    Good. Theodoric nced at the table and his missing hand of cards. Holebert, did you take my cards?


    I thought you were done ying, the servant said in excuse.


    I had king and jester, the jarlined, followed by a sigh. Deal us a new round. I need better servants, he grumbled, to which the others onlyughed.


    ~~~~


    Milord? Your son requests an audience.


    Konstans looked up at Eolf. My son? Are you certain?


    I know how his lordships son looks, the servant sniffed. Shall I show him in?


    I admit to some curiosity, Konstans confessed, turning the hourss on his table to let the sands fall. Let him enter.


    With almost timid steps, Konstantine entered his fathers study, ncing around. Father.


    Of all the men waiting outside, I did not expect to see you. Konstans voice was almost amused. What brings you here?


    I thought we should speak, the young man spoke.


    His father nced at the hourss. By all means, but time is short. What do you need?


    Konstantine cleared his throat. I know you are disappointed that I am no longer Uncles heir.


    Have I expressed any such disappointment?


    Not directly


    Then why would you assume such a thing?


    Bewilderment spread across Konstantines face. But I thought


    I was born the second son. Do you think I have ever let that hold me back?


    I guess not.


    Let me share some fatherly wisdom I received myself when I was young, from your grandfather. He was a clear-sighted man, Konstans told his son. He kept me out of the Order, knowing it would be a waste to make me a knight. He exined to me that that there are two kinds of value to possess.


    What are they? asked Konstantine interested.


    Resources and respect. The former isnd, gold, soldiers, and the like. Thetter is titles, honour, authority, and so forth. It is important to know that they are interchangeable and never constant.


    You mean,nd can be exchanged for gold, gold can be exchanged for soldiers?


    Exactly, nodded Konstans satisfied. Simrly, a title in itself is of little value, except for the power and authority it can be exchanged to. It does not matter whether the jarl of Vale is my brother or me. The title belongs to our family, and I may use its authority when I need it.


    Just as you have used it to be dragonlord.


    Indeed, which offers further possibilities. On the other hand, the Red Hawks are loyal to our gold, not our title. Or take Jarl Isarn, who will soon have lost all right to that title. Yet his vassals will remain loyal to him because they have sworn to be. In that case, honour has its own value.


    So you are saying I should not care about titles?


    I am saying, Konstans exined with patience, that titles are but one form ofmodity. As long as the title remains in our family, we have ess to its value, and your time should be spent pursuing something else. To borrow some wisdom from your uncle, it is a poor merchant that stares himself blind on onemodity. The dragonlord smiled at his own words.


    Thank you, Father. I understand much better now.


    I am d you are sensible enough to listen. Konstans looked at the hourss on his table, which had run empty. I must press on with todays affairs. Tell Eolf I need a brief while before I see anyone else.


    Of course, Father.


    ~~~~


    Do either of you know thedy Arndis? asked Hardmar.


    She is Sir Adalbrands sister, exined Inghard.


    Obviously, sneered his older brother impatiently. But what do you know of her?


    She is a confidante of Lady Theodwyn, I think, Gerhard told the others. I have seen the two of them together, along with the veiled woman.


    Lady Eleanor, Inghard inserted.


    Never mind them, Hardmar snapped. I have heard that the king of Korndale seeks to marry her.


    Really?


    Odd. She brings no wealth or alliance with her, Inghard contemted.


    On the contrary, Hardmar retorted. She will strengthen his im on the Dragon Throne, my throne, and tie Adalbrand to his cause. Treasonous lot!


    I suppose there would be danger no matter who she marries, Inghard continued. Her children will have the same blood as us, even if it is matrilineally.


    A shame if she leaves for Plenmont, Gerhard spoke up, drumming his fingers on a table as customary. She is quite beautiful, unlike thatpany she keeps. An old hag and a scarred woman.


    Does that matter to you? Hardmar asked his brother with a hint of contempt. You will be pleased to know I have decided you should marry the daughter of Lord Marcaster.


    Lady Gloria?


    Unless he has other daughters, that would be the one, Hardmar jeered.


    Why that one? asked Gerhard, whose face seemed to struggle with finding an appropriate reaction.


    He will pull several otherndgraves to our side. It is a favourable alliance, the prince exined.


    You could have asked me, Gerhard pointed out with a sour disposition.


    Fine. Pretend I asked you beforehand. Hardmar waved his hand dismissively.


    You will not get an exception for me as well to marry early, will you? The question was asked with a suspicious voice. I am in no hurry.


    Fret not, little brother, Hardmar reassured him. I only intend to announce your engagement at the Adalthing. Unlike Vale, I do not rush these things.


    Perhaps you should, Inghard interjected from his corner of the room. A lot can happen in the next several years. Maybe Jarl Vale is wise to make sure you marry his daughter before you have a chance to find a better match. With this said, the youngest Hardling brother resumed reading his book, leaving the crown prince to contemte his words.


    ~~~~


    In the dungeons, Arndis sat with an empty coin purse and a chessboard inside Athelstans cell. The knight raised one hand, careful to avoid his chains identally knocking any pieces about, and moved his thane to threaten Arndis jarl.


    I knew it, she smiled, moving her dragonlord forward into the vacated space. I believe that concludes the match?


    Athelstan stared at the board in disbelief. How long did you say you had been ying?


    Brand taught me the gamest summer, Arndis replied, looking both shy yet also pleased with herself.


    Impressive. It took him years to beat me the first time, though granted, he was only thirteen when we started ying. Athelstan continued staring at the pieces, tentatively moving a few about to examine the different positions. I will excuse myself with not having yed the game in several months now.


    I am d we can remedy that, Arndis smiled. I am sorelycking for worthy opponents among my friends at court.


    From his tattered clothing, Athelstan pulled out a small wooden carving. It was a king piece. I gave this to Brand the first time he beat me.


    She nodded. I recall you told me.


    He extended the piece towards her. It seems fitting I give it to you.


    Oh, thank you. Hesitantly, Arndis epted the gift.


    It is just a piece of wood, Athelstan told her with a joyless smile. It is all I have at present, however, and perhaps it will remind you of me in the future.


    I shall cherish it for that reason, she promised.


    He began arranging the pieces on the board to their starting position. Another game?


    With pleasure.


    ~~~~


    As evening arrived, it was Konstantine seeking out his mother and not reverse. She gave a look of surprise upon seeing her son in her chamber, but it was quickly reced by disappointment. I suppose you havee to offer excuses?


    I spoke with Father. Mathildes expression turned nk. In general, I have given it all some thought, Konstantine continued. Should anything happen to my little cousin, it would be a tragedy to our house. I cannot imagine Father would want that.


    So now you choose to think, Mathilde sneered, but there was little bite in her voice.


    In fact, I cannot imagine Father would condone what you told mest night.


    What happened to obedience? she hissed. How dare you question me!


    I threw it away, that little sk, Konstantine told her. I do not intend to ever think about it again. I do not think you should either.


    Are you presuming now to tell me what I should do?


    As long as Valerius is healthy and safe, I see no point in dwelling onst night, Konstantine told her. But should something ever happen to him, Father will know everything in detail. He stared at his mother.


    At least you show some backbone. She returned his gaze and found him unwavering. As you wish, she finally dered. Last night is forgotten.


    I am d. Goodnight, Mother. She did not return his well-wishes.

 Chapter 80: Seal and Sign

    Chapter 80: Seal and Sign


    Seal and Sign


    Middanhal


    This particr evening was busy in the library tower. It was Laugday, meaning all the servants had enjoyed their weekly bath; on this eve, Quill opened his library for the kitchen girls, knowing their hands had been scrubbed clean. For an hour, the library turned into a lore house, teaching them to read and letting them have ess to a select part of the book collection. Kate supervised, ensuring every page was turned with care, books returned to their rightful ce, and that the library did not suffer in any way from showing this courtesy to the servant girls.


    Quill meanwhile was free to continue his work. He sat in the scriptorium, writing letter after letter. Master Quill? What are you doing? Kate asked curiously.


    The Adalthing is being convened outside its regr day, he exined, pausing his work. Summons must be sent to the members that they can make their way to Middanhal in time.


    He continued writing, and she stared with awe at the tip of his feather pen as ink flowed to mark elegant letters. It looks so easy in your hand.


    Want to try?


    I couldnt! She seemed almost horrified at the suggestion.


    It is just a letter, Quill smiled. The recipient will probably know its contents merely from having my seal upon it. I doubt you could do much damage.


    But Master Quill, I cant make it nearly as fine as you.


    As long as it is readable, he told her. Here, this letter is finished. Copy the writing exactly as you see it. He made room for her at one of the writing desks, preparing quill and ink, nk paper, and cing the original letter next to it for her to see.


    Hesitantly, Kate took a seat. Her fingers almost trembled as she took hold of the feather pen, dipping it in ink. With cautious movements, she made one line and immediately paused to examine her work. Its not exactly straight.


    Keep working, Quillmanded, starting a new copy himself.


    It took Kate nearly half an hour to write what Quill had done twice as fast. When she told him she was done, he walked over and examined it with a solemn look. Not bad. With some practice, you might be quite decent. A twinkle appeared in his eye.


    Its good enough? Relief flowed from Kates voice.


    I think it is. In fact, let us use this version to send to Sir Adalbrand in Hthiod. Perhaps Egil will read it, and you can tell him when he returns home.


    Egil ising home?


    He is travelling with Brand, that is, Sir Adalbrand, so I assume so. If the good knight returns, so should Egil.


    I cant wait! As an example of the impatience expressed in her words, Kate stood up, moving around the room.


    You will have to, Quill told her. Also, it iste. Tell the girls to pack their things away. Come see me afterwards. While Kate did as instructed, Quill folded the letter together and tied string around it. He melted some wax upon the string knot before marking it with the insignia of the Kings Quill.


    The girls are leaving now, Master Quill, Kate said as she returned to the scriptorium.


    One final task for you tonight. Deliver this to the Hall of Records. Tell the scribes it is to be sent to Sir Adalbrand at the Order camp. He handed her the sealed letter.


    My first letter. It was with a grin that she left the library to carry out her assignment.


    ~~~~


    Hourster, when night had fallen upon the castle, something stirred in Egils empty room. A shape pushed itself out from under the bed, stretching arms and legs once out of the ufortable hiding ce. Leaving the small chamber on silent footsteps, the intruder entered the library hall. Moonlight fell through the window to reveal it was Jerome, the Red Hawk, though he wore dark clothing instead of his green surcoat with its conspicuous red symbol.


    His gaze fell upon the long table and benches where the kitchen girls had been reading. Of all the days he mumbled to himself, rubbing his back and neck; the girls appearance had forced him to hide and lie immovable for hours.


    He nced towards Quills bedroom; it was quiet. Moving swiftly, he entered the scriptorium, closed the door behind him, and quietly searched through desks and drawers until he found his target and could pull out Quills seal, conveniently ced with a stick of red wax next to it.


    Jerome took out a small candle and fire tools. After a few tries, a small me sprouted and ignited the candle. Retrieving a letter from a pocket, he did just as Quill had done hours earlier, melting wax onto the string and marking it with the seal of the Kings Quill.


    Suddenly the mercenary stiffened and quickly blew out the candle, returning the room to darkness. With barely a sound, he moved to stand near the door so that if it should open, he would be concealed by it.


    After waiting with bated breath, nothing happened. He gave a smile in the dark and rxed, exhaling. After a few more moments of waiting, he dared to open the door into the library hall. It was as he had left it. A look towards Quills door revealed it remained closed.


    Jerome quickly crossed the hall and turned the key sitting in the door leading outside. It creaked terribly, sending a start through the intruder. Forgoing caution in favour of speed, he opened the door as soon as it was unlocked and moved through; after closing it, he hurried down the spiral staircase. Behind him, Quill continued to sleep without interruptions.


    Walking through the castle, Jerome met with no hindrance other than the asional Red Hawk, who recognised him and greeted him in passing. With a smile, he threw a few remarks back and went on his way, reaching the Hall of Records. It was not locked; it contained nothing of value in coins, only books, ledgers, and the like concerning the organisation of the Order, and whatever post was to be sent from Middanhal to any of its garrisons or camps.


    Jerome aimed for the bowl containing thetter. He dug through a few dispatches and missives until he found his target; removing the letter that Kate had written and Quill had sealed, he reced it with his own. Also bearing the seal of the Kings Quill, it would appear genuine to anyone else.


    With a faint whistle, Jerome passed through the corridors of the Citadel, returning to his barracks. It was not hard to find a fire burning somewhere in winter, and the mes greedily ate the letter he had stolen from the Hall of Records. Satisfied that the paper had been consumed entirely, Jerome went to bed.


    ~~~~


    The following morning, the envoy from the duke of Belvoir presented himself to the dragonlord of Adalrik. You wished to see me, my lord? he questioned after his usual gestures of courtesy.


    I did. You may tell your master he has my tacit approval to act, Konstans dered.


    He will be pleased! Guilberts smile widened, as much as such a thing was possible. However, the duke should like certain reassurances.


    I just gave them to you, Konstans informed him dryly.


    More than that, Guilbert retorted. He pulled out a document, unfolding and smoothening it. This is a formal deration of an alliance between the House of Vale and my master, the duke of Belvoir.


    Konstans raised an eyebrow as he epted the parchment, ncing over its contents. Why is this necessary? Is my word not enough?


    With deepest respect, my lord, you are not the head of your house. The duke has already signed this, as you can see. It needs only the signature of Jarl Vale.


    Konstans dropped the document onto his desk. I said that we will ept the dukes intervention in Fontaine. I have no intentions of writing anything down.


    Ah, my lord, this paper merely formalises the alliance between your house and the dukes. There is nothing criminal about a pledge of friendship and mutual assistance.


    I suppose not, but why does the duke require that we write it down?


    An alliance with the lord protector and jarl of Vale will ease the minds of the other lords of Ealond, Guilbert exined. There is nothing odious about it. It will give my master the confidence he needs to take action in Ealond, and in return, it is proof that he will march against your enemies afterwards.


    All our enemies, Konstans specified. Whether northern or southern, whether in Ealond, Adalrik  or Korndale.


    All your enemies will be his, Guilbert promised.


    Very well. Leave it with me. I will have my brother sign and seal it, and it shall be delivered to you soon.


    Most splendid, my lord, Guilbert beamed. He took his leave. Konstans sat staring at the document for a moment before he grabbed his quill and signed it as Valerian, jarl of Vale.


    ~~~~


    Arndis! Arndis, are you in here? Eleanor came almost flying into the chambers belonging to the only member of House Arnling still in Middanhal.


    Right here, Arndis replied amused, stepping out of her room and into the parlour. What is happening?


    I just heard a rumour, Eleanor said, sitting down. She removed her veil, letting her breathe a little easier.


    I am not Theodwyn, Arndis told her in amused chastisement. You need not exert yourself on my ount.


    But this pertains to you, her friend exined.


    A rumour about me? How curious.


    They say that the Quill has been ordered to convene the Adalthing soon, Eleanor revealed.


    What does that have to do with me?


    Your brother is a member, is he not?


    He is. Oh!


    That must mean Sir Adalbrand ising home, Eleanor said excited.


    Really, just call him Brand, Arndis corrected her. But you are right. Or maybe he cannot? He is on campaign, he might not be able to just leave camp.


    The way the campaign seems to be going, the war might already be over and we just have not heard the news yet, Eleanor suggested merrily.


    Hardly, Arndis smiled. Though I hope you are right.


    You are lucky. There is no reason for Sir William to return to Middanhal. Eleanor gave a small sigh.


    If the campaign is over as soon as you seem to think, nothing would hold him back either, Arndis spoke with a teasing voice. I wonder why the Adalthing is being assembled outside of time, she continued contemtively.


    Most seem to think it is to have the traitors in the dungeons officially dered just that, traitors, Eleanor told her in a casual voice. I guess the lord protector is eager to have them executed.


    The colour vanished from Arndis face. I forgot about them.


    Are you well? You seem pale, Eleanor pointed out concerned.


    I  I did not sleep well, Arndis imed. In fact, I should like to lie down a little. If you would excuse me.


    Of course! Eleanor quickly agreed. I will see you at the meal, or I can have something brought to you if you are not well enough to appear.


    I just need rest, Arndis told her with a feeble smile. Once her friend had left, she returned to her room and took out a king piece from a chessboard, staring at it.

 Chapter 81: A Bloody Welcome

    Chapter 81: A Bloody Wee


    A Bloody Wee


    Middanhal


    Nearly a month after the summons to the Adalthing had been sent out, arge entourage rode into Middanhal. They were led by two Order knights, meaning their passage was not hindered or subject to toll. Furthermore, both of the knights possessed such fame as to be immediately recognised. The news quickly spread that Sir William the Unyielding and Sir Adalbrand the Dragonheart hade to Middanhal.


    Williams retinue was as modest as his nature, consisting only of his squire. Inparison, Brand was apanied by his sergeant, four soldiers acting as his guard, a bard, and an apprenticed scribe. While Middanhal was familiar with much, this was an unusual band led by the two most renowned knights of the day, and all heads turned to witness their progression. Order soldiers stopped on patrol,moners and noblemen stared, and several contingents of Red Hawks watched them keenly.


    Before the Citadel, they parted ways. William and his squire rode further on to enter the northern courtyard and the Order stables; Brand and his followers entered the southern yard, leaving their horses to the stable hands.


    You should find rooms in the barracks, he told Nichs, Quentin, and Matthew, who were enlisted as Order soldiers. My own chambers should amodate you two, he told Geberic and ukos. Thank you for your service, he finally told Egil. Give my regards to Master Quill.


    Yes, sir, the young apprentice promised. The group split up, each to their destination.


    Brand, followed by his remaining two guards, walked through corridors and up staircases past servants, nobleborn, and Red Hawks, until he reached the chambers that had been assigned to his housest year. He knocked heavily, and the door was opened by Arndis handmaiden. Milord! she eximed.


    Jenny, he nodded. Is your mistress at home?


    She is, came Arndis voice from inside. Brand moved forward with hurried steps, embracing his sister.


    You look well, he smiled, retracting his head to gaze at her.


    I am well, she replied, pulling back after a moment. Jenny, have ale fetched for our guests. The servant gave a quick bow and hurried off. Geberic, well met, Arndis told the soldier, nodding to him.


    Thank you, mdy, he replied.


    This is ukos. We picked him up in Tothmor, and he has stuck to us since, Brand exined with a wry smile.


    Mydy. ukos gave an elegant bow.


    Well met, she repeated before turning her attention towards Brand again. I am surprised to see you already. I did not imagine you would arrive before another week or two.


    I had to make it in time for the Adalthing, Brandughed. There is no point in arriving after it has been held.


    Of course, but you made it with weeks to spare, Arndis smiled.


    What do you mean? The mirth on Brands face gave way to uncertainty. The Adalthing is in two days time.


    Now it was his sister who exhibited confusion. Brand, the Adalthing is more than a fortnight away.


    The men exchanged nces. That cant be right, Geberic grunted. I saw the summons from the Quill myself. Lord Adalbrand is correct.


    Maybe a mistake was made? Arndis suggested.


    It is not like Quill to make such an error, Brand frowned. Geberic, find Quill and ask him. Sort this out.


    Right away, milord, Geberic promised. He left the room.


    I am sure there is an exnation, Arndis said.


    No doubt, Brand muttered; his expression gainsaid his words.


    Almost immediately after stepping out, Geberic returned. Somethings wrong. Theres a bunch of Red Hawks standing in either end of the corridor, and they scowled as soon as they saw me.


    ukos hand flew to his sword hilt, holding it ready. Who are these Red Hawks?


    Mercenaries working for the jarl of Vale, Arndis exined.


    He is the one who called the Adalthing, Brand considered. The Hawks we saw at the gate, in the city he has been watching my progress, waiting for my arrival.


    They all looked at each other. This is a trap, Geberic finally said out loud.


    Lock the door, Brandmanded, which ukos immediately did, bolting the door. Can we fight our way out? Brand asked with a look at his other guard.


    Theres a lot of them, Geberic admitted. They cant get to us all at once in the corridor, of course, but how many mercenaries does that bastard have in the castle? Hundreds?


    I stand ready! ukos dered fiercely.


    Geberic is right. Brand shook his head. That was a foolish notion by me. Maybe we can wait until nightfall and make our escape in the dark through the window.


    Geberic walked over to their suggested escape route. Its quite a drop, he mentioned sceptically. If you can climb down a bit though, its not so bad.


    Brand, Arndis spoke. In a few days, it will be two weeks until the Adalthing assembles. Thendfrid takes hold.


    That is why I was given the false date, Brand realised. They needed to lure me here earlier. They dare not break the sacred peace of the Adalthing.


    In other words, if we can wait them out for three days, you are protected by thendfrid, Arndis pointed out. You can walk out of here and Jarl Vale will not dare touch you.


    That door will not hold for three days, ukos pointed out.


    I need to get to the northern part of the Citadel, Brand contemted, marching over to the window. It gave him a view of his desired destination; the path to it went through one of the orchards supplying the castle with fresh fruit. The Order soldiers will not permit the Hawks to take me. They can protect me for three days, after which I can leave the city unhindered.


    How do we get you there? asked Arndis.


    I will have to make a run for it, Brand dered. I will climb down under the cover of night and flee to the Order side.


    Lets hope for clouds, Geberic muttered. Theres moonlight tonight. Youll stand out like a sheep in a coal mine, going out the window and down the wall.


    Their discussion was interrupted by a heavy knock. Sir Adalbrand, this is Lord Konstans, dragonlord of Adalrik. I wish to speak with you.


    Everyone inside the room nced at each other with a variety of thoughts appearing on their faces. Brand walked over to the door. I hear you. What do you have to say?


    Would you mind opening the door that we may discourse with civility? Konstans requested.


    I can hear you easily, Brand replied. You wish to speak, so tell me what you have to say.


    There are chargesid against you. I require you to follow me that they may be addressed. I assure you, you have nothing to fear, Konstans imed.


    His words were received with contemptuous looks, though none inside the room gave voice to their disdain. I thank you for bringing this to my attention, Brand answered from his side of the door. Will you give me some time to consider?


    It took a moment before he received a reply. I cannot. This requires that you immediatelye with me.


    I will be with you shortly, Brand promised. He turned away and approached the other people in the room. How long until nightfall? he asked quietly.


    Hours, Geberic answered.


    He will not be dyed that long, Brand considered. I need to make my escape now.


    What if you get spotted trying to climb down? They could be waiting for you, Geberic objected.


    I will go first, ukos dered. I will hold them back and buy you time.


    They were interrupted by Konstans voice from beyond the door. Sir Adalbrand. Wielding the authority of the realm, I demand you open this door now!


    Lord Konstans, Brand said cordially, raising his voice that he might be heard by the man outside, you may go to Hel and give her my regards. He turned to his men. It has to be now.


    I think it is toote, ukos murmured.


    The sound of an axe striking wood reached them. The Hawks had begun their assault upon the door. ukos and Geberic took position in front of it, swords drawn.


    Stay inside your chamber. There is no need to put you in danger, Brand told Arndis, gazing around the parlour that now seemed a prison.


    Let it not be said I cowered before these viins, Arndis dered, standing firmly next to her brother. He gave her a weak smile, drawing his own sword.


    The door splintered. A hand moved through the gap in the wood to try and unlock the bolt; ukos stabbed the hand with his sword, prompting an outcry of pain and quick retreat by its owner. The axe resumed its work.


    Milord, its been an honour to serve you, Geberic said while keeping his eyes fixed on the disintegrating door.


    You freed my home, my lord, ukos added without exining himself further.


    Brand took a deep breath. As you both showed at the battle of Polisals, no captain was ever nked by better men. He assumed a fighting stance, covering Arndis as best he could.


    The door fell to pieces. One Red Hawk rushed through, but ukos easily evaded his weapon, shed him across the shin just above his greave, and pushed him back with a kick.


    Hisrades pulled the Hawk back, and someone else tried their luck with passing through the door. With ukos waiting for him, his luck was equally poor. A third came through, a fourth. The third did not merely receive a wound, but fell to the ground dying; the fourth was engaged by Geberic and followed his fellow Hawk in death. The mercenaries pulled back and ceased sending men through the doorway to ughter.


    You should escape, milord, Geberic argued, speaking quietly. Although they had retreated, the Hawks could be heard moving around out in the corridor. Before they try again.


    He is right, Arndis told Brand. You have a chance.


    We can keep them at bay meanwhile, ukos added.


    The young knight walked over to the window and looked out. There are Hawks in the orchard below. It is toote.


    Him and Hel, Geberic swore.


    ukos renewed his grip on his sword. Let theme, in that case.


    When they did, their tactics had changed. The first soldiers had attacked with short swords meant for closebat, usually ideal for fighting in such tight quarters as this; they had not anticipated the presence of ukos, who excelled in suchbat and had the advantage of a longer sword. The next wave of Hawks came with spears.


    Their ability to wield the weapons in this space was limited, but they were not aiming for elegance; they simply used the long reach to force ukos and Geberic backwards into the room. Now several Hawks were able to press forward while using their spears to keep the defenders at a distance. The fight turned into a regr skirmish with the Hawks trying to manoeuvre further into the room to fill their numbers, and Brand and his men trying to push them back.


    Arndis picked up anything that could be thrown to use it in that manner, hurling bowls, tes, needlework, and anything else possible at the attackers.


    Another Hawk fell to ukos de, but it cost him a spear piercing his thigh, causing the former de to roar in pain. For the first time, Brand had to move in close, protecting ukos by forcing the Hawk back; meanwhile, Geberic exchanged blows, dealing and taking wounds as well.


    With his moment of respite, ukos leapt back intobat, felling the Hawk that Brand kept upied and following it up by doing the same to Geberics adversary. The bodies were beginning to pile up in the room.


    With every Hawk inside the parlour dead, the mercenaries dyed their next assault. Brand retreated behind his defenders, catching his breath. Both the men in front of him were wounded. He nced back at his sister, so far unhurt.


    Theyre not in a hurry, these Hawks, Geberic growled.


    They are waiting for fatigue and injuries to take effect, ukos muttered darkly.


    Ill dly fight three days and three nights, proimed hisrade. Well keep them at bay until thendfrid. ukos did not reply to this other than a knowing smile.


    Brand bit his lower lip until blood appeared. We will notst that long, he mumbled, licking the trickle of blood away. Is anyone out there with the authority to negotiate with me? he called out.


    I am, Konstans replied. He appeared in the doorway, standing behind his men. Are you ready to surrender?


    Will my men and sister be left unharmed?


    They will be, Konstans promised.


    What say you Hawks? Brand continued. Will you keep from seeking revenge for your fallen?


    If it gets that big bastard to stop killing more, Im practical enough to say yes, someone shouted. Others agreed with this position enough to satisfy Brand, who let his sword fall.


    Milord! it burst from Geberic. Brand! eximed Arndis.


    He raised his hands to silence them. What is the point in all of us dying?


    Very wise, Konstans assented.


    I surrender, Brand dered, stepping forward unarmed. Two of the Hawks approached cautiously, eyeing ukos and Geberic. You need not seize me, Brand told them. I shall follow willingly.


    They nced at Konstans nervously, who gave a nod. We are all men of our word here. Escort Sir Adalbrand to the dungeons, he told them. Collect your dead and get your wounded to ay brother. As for them, he added while gesturing to the remaining people inside the room, we have no quarrel with any of them.


    Brand nced over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. His two defenders stared with bitter looks and bloody appearance at their masters departure into enemy hands; his sister stood tall in the carnage, subduing any emotion that surfaced. Looking ahead, he continued to the dungeons.

 Chapter 82: Slow March

    Chapter 82: Slow March


    Slow March


    Middanhal


    Konstans returned to his quarters, but before he could resume giving audience, his brother burst into his study.


    Pardons, milord, Eolf eximed, a few steps behind. He would not wait.


    Konstans raised a hand in a disarming gesture. You may leave us, he told the servant and turned to his brother. You seem agitated.


    Men are dead! There was fighting inside the Citadel! Fighting between our Hawks and Order soldiers! The words came flooding from Valerian and were spoken with incredulity.


    Between one Order knight refusing to obey mywful authority, Konstans corrected him pointedly. The two men doing most of the fighting were not Order soldiers.


    That hardly makes it better! What gave you the notion this was a good idea?


    Adalbrand was a threat. That threat has now been removed, Konstans exined.


    By inciting fighting? Was there no better way to handle this?


    Nothing has happened that was illegal, Konstans retorted. It is my right as dragonlord to arrest someone suspected of high treason. Adalbrand was seized before thendfrid takes effect, and the question of his guilt will be put before the Adalthing. It is the right way to handle this.


    You gave me no warning! Valerian struck the table with his fist. I had to hear this from somemon soldier, heined.


    I handle many affairs of the realm without informing you, his brother replied. I sit in this room from sunrise past sunset each day, governing. Do you think you would have time to handle your precious books or see your son if not for me?


    This gave Valerian pause. I am not saying you did wrong, the jarl muttered. Merely that you should have told me before you started a battle inside the Citadel.


    I did not know one would erupt, Konstans argued. I did not expect he would resist to such a degree. Which only proves his guilt.


    You are certain he is a traitor, then?


    Without doubt. He has been proiming his victories to win favour with the people. Not to mention, our reeve in Plenmont informed me that a union of marriage between King Adrd and Adalbrands sister was being nned. This would have provided Adalbrand with an army to attack us from the south while our forces are engaged to the north, Konstans exined. A clever n that would have seeded if not for my quick intervention.


    I suppose, his brother granted.


    Are we done? I have plenty to see to before the Adalthing convenes.


    Fine, Valerian mumbled, leaving.


    Konstans waited until his brother was gone before summoning his servant. Have this brought to Master Guilbert, the emissary from the duke of Belvoir, hemanded Eolf, who bowed and epted a document rolled inside a case. Insidey the treaty signed between the Houses of Vale and Belvoir. Soon after, it was in Guilberts possession, and he could return to his mastersnds.


    ~~~~


    William knocked and awaited a reply before entering Eleanors chambers. They would not let me through. I was unable to ascertain anything with my own eyes.


    Were you not able to gather any news? Eleanor asked. She sat, unveiled, pressing her hands together; anytime she stopped, they would begin to shake.


    They im that the only dead are Hawks. Sir Adalbrand, his sister, and his men are supposedly unharmed.


    Are they still fighting?


    He shook his head. Sir Adalbrand was taken to the dungeons, I was given to understand.


    Howe they will not let you through then?


    William took a seat. Who can say? From what I can tell, this was instigated by the dragonlord. The dungeons are guarded by his mercenaries. I will take this matter up with him, he dered.


    Do you know why he was arrested?


    High treason, I was told.


    Eleanor gasped. That cannot be! He only arrived today. How could Sir Adalbrand ever be involved in such?


    I am not sure he is, William spoke darkly, and it may not matter either.


    Eleanor touched the burn scars on her cheek. Poor Arndis. She should not be left alone.


    William rose up. I will try again to demand entry and get her away. I will bring her back here.


    Always a hero, Eleanor smiled sadly.


    If only that were enough.


    ~~~~


    Theodoric sat in his parlour. Theodwyns guests anddies had been dismissed immediately upon his arrival, leaving him alone with his sister and two servants. Several dead and many more wounded, the jarl eximed, stroking his forehead. They attacked him in his own chambers!


    What do you know of Arndis? asked Theodwyn concerned.


    She seems unharmed, mdy, Holwyn reassured her.


    What else do you know?


    Only that Sir Adalbrand was taken to the dungeons. His two guards are wounded, but not severely. The charge against him is high treason, though none seems to know the evidence or any details, Holwyn rattled off.


    Perhaps we should leave, Theodoric contemted. Withdraw to my house.


    Leave? Show timidity before this crass act of violence? Theodwyn sounded appalled.


    I only have half my thanes with me in Middanhal, and most of them have been left at the house because you demand several chambers to yourself, the jarl reminded her. We are vulnerable here.


    If Valerian or Konstansy a finger on a jarl of the realm, they will find another rebellion on their hands, Theodwyn imed loudly. They would not dare move against you.


    Adalbrand is dragonborn, yet that did not protect him.


    The Adalthing is in a few weeks, Theodwyn pointed out. If you withdraw to your house, you will be far removed from all the negotiations taking ce beforehand.


    Theodorics face became wrinkled in thought. Holebert, he finally said, go to my house and fetch four thanes. He raised a finger when Theodwyn was on the verge to protest. No arguments.


    Yes, milord, Holebert bowed.


    As you wish, Theodwyn almost sneered. This is very poor for my health, you know, all thismotion. I intend to move freely and unfettered as always. I will not be cowed!


    Imagine your health when we are locked in the dungeons, her brother retorted, turning on his heel and retreating to his chamber.


    ~~~~


    Moving through Lowtown, Nichs walked with determined steps towards a specific tavern. With his bow staff, leather jerkin, and confident stride, he gave the impression of a seasoned veteran, and none gave him trouble. His destination was packed with patrons, drinking and eating; the ravages of war seemed contained to northern Adalrik, sparing the capital from shortages. Entering themon room, Nichs let his eyes search around until he found the tavern owner.


    Master Gilbert, he called out to no avail due to the noise of the room. He pushed his way forward, moving in and out between tables, until he could grab hold of the corpulent mans shoulder. Master Gilbert!


    The tavern keeper turned around, and his expression of confusion was reced by delight. Nichs, my boy! Youre back, and in one piece, it seems! He ran his eyes over the archer as to confirm his observation.


    Indeed, Master Gilbert. Leaning forward, Nichs spoke into the other mans ear. I can see youre busy, but I was wondering


    Youre looking for Ellen?


    If you can spare her.


    Gilbert grinned. It wont hurt these misers to wait a while longer for their ale. Come along! he yelled, gesturing and moving towards the back of the room. Behind the bar stood a young woman, filling mugs and removing others. Ellen! Gilbert shouted as he approached. Ill take over for you  theres someone here to see you!


    She looked up and beamed a smile at the sight of Nichs, walking swiftly around the bar to embrace him. Youre here! Come, lets talk elsewhere, she said, speaking into his ear, and he nodded in agreement. Leading him by the hand, Ellen moved through a door to enter the small courtyard of the tavern. While the sounds of themon room still reached them, they were shielded from all eyes, and Ellen greeted him with a proper kiss.


    Thats better, Nichsughed, cing his arms around her waist. Ive missed you.


    Same, in case that wasnt obvious, she replied.


    It was, but a reminder wouldnt be bad.


    She grinned and reminded him as requested. Are you back for good? Yourst letter didnt even mention your return.


    It was a rather sudden decision, Nichs exined. Were not staying, though. The lieutenant is here along with the captain, asking for support. Reinforcements and the like.


    I thought you were close to throwing all those savages out, Ellen said. Isnt it strange that yourmanders leave rather than finishing the task?


    They have their reasons, Nichs dered with confidence. Besides, its only because Lord Adalbrand went to Middanhal that I get to be here as well.


    Im grateful to him for that, Ellen said smiling. How long?


    Who knows how long with these lords and noblemen? Some days, at least, maybe weeks if were lucky.


    We should make the most of it, she told him with a glint in her eye.


    By the door, Quentin cleared his throat. Sorry to intrude.


    The reunited couple turned their heads towards him, separating a bit. Quentin? I thought you were staying at the castle.


    Somethings happened, he exined with a grave voice. Lord Adalbrands been arrested.


    Arrested? eximed Ellen.


    What for? asked Nichs.


    Nobody seems to know. They dont seem interested in us, but stay away from the Citadel, Quentin cautioned him. In fact, stay here. Ill tell Geberic we should meet at this ce. Sorry, he added towards Ellen. I dont mean to cause trouble, but well need a friendly location to stay low.


    Perhaps we shouldnt stay here, Nichs considered, and bring danger to anyone who lives here.


    Nonsense, Ellen dered firmly. If theres trouble, your friends should stay here, and so should you.


    Will your father agree?


    Ill persuade him.


    Thanks, Quentin told her. Ill fetch the others. He disappeared again.


    Ellen turned to look back at Nichs. What are we going to do?


    He pulled her into an embrace. I dont know, he admitted. What can wemon folk do when the nobleborn are at each others throats? I dont know.


    ~~~~


    It was evening when the door to the library was pushed open forcefully and Kate stormed through. Egil! it burst from her as soon as she saw him with an embrace to follow.


    Good to you see too, he coughed once she let go.


    She nced at his and Quills face. You look serious. Is something wrong?


    My friend, Sir Adalbrand, has been arrested, Quill told her.


    Im sorry, she replied. What has he done?


    We dont know, Egil interjected. I have travelled with him for months. I dont understand whats going on.


    The matters of high lords are rarely transparent, the old scribe remarked.


    Are you in trouble? Kate asked Egil while biting her lip.


    Hardly, Quill assured her. This has nothing to do with us.


    How were your travels? she asked next. You must have seen so much.


    I did, Egil answered, giving Quill a hesitant look.


    Go ahead. You are both excused tonight, he told them. But do not be loud. I have work in the scriptorium. As Quill left to continue his tasks, Egil had alreadyunched into the first of many tales.


    ~~~~


    A huge man with a great axe strapped to his back stormed through the royal wing of the Citadel. The kingthanes cast sidelong nces but did not get in the way, as it was their own captain. Berimund burst into the chambers belonging to the princes, making all of them stare at the big warrior with various expressions. Inghard had raised eyebrows, Gerhard seemed perplexed, and Hardmar appeared irritated.


    You move with the grace of a bull and make as much noise, the crown prince sneered.


    Berimund came to a halt. My apologies, my prince. I have just heard the news and desired to speak with you at once.


    What news? asked Inghard. For once he was not holding a book, but ying chess against his brother.


    The arrest of Sir Adalbrand, Berimund exined.


    It is most excellent, Gerhard proimed before turning his attention back on the game. Vale has lived up his reputation and removed a threat for us.


    You agree with Lord Konstans actions? Berimund eximed in disbelief.


    Of course, Hardmar told him curtly, leaning back into his couch. Adalbrand desires my throne. He had to be stopped.


    Berimund gave a frown. You know this, my prince?


    It was obvious, the young nobleman scoffed. Gathering followers and support, making alliances.


    You consider him a traitor? Incredulity continued to permeate the captains voice.


    It is not consideration, it is fact, Hardmar stated. Why do you think the Adalthing is being summoned? So we can execute the lot of them.


    He is your blood, the kingthane argued a deep furrow in his forehead.


    Only barely, Hardmar retorted.


    It does not concern you that a dragonborn may be sent to the scaffold? Berimund clenched his fist by his sides.


    I would send my own brothers to that same ce if they betrayed me, the prince dered casually, making Inghard and Gerhard stop their game.


    The kingthane nced behind him. By the door stood two of his brethren, staring pointedly ahead into empty air. I see, the captain mumbled. I shall not disturb you further, my prince.

 Chapter 83: Playing Blind

    Chapter 83: ying Blind


    ying Blind


    Middanhal


    Once he had surrendered, Brand walked with his head held high through the hallways of the Citadel. Despite the slow pace, the Hawks did not pull him along or push him forward, and Brand was not in chains or had his hands bound; it seemed more like a band of thanes protecting their lord than guards escorting a prisoner.


    To reach the dungeons, they had to cross from the southern side to the northern part of the fortress, where the Order had control. If Brand considered making a run for it, he showed no sign, walking steadfast along the shortest path to the cells; his word and his honour bound him stronger than iron. He descended the stairs to reach the circr guardroom, only stopping once he hade that far.


    The guards discussed briefly where to ce him while cing iron rings around his wrists; their instructions were to ce prisoners as separate as possible, and the cells already held noblemen and thanes of Isarn along with thendgrave of Elis. Finally, one of the Hawks gave a shrug, took the keys, and gestured for Brand to follow him.


    Choosing one of the empty cells casually, the Hawk entered along with Brand. He attached the chains hanging by the wall to Brands wrists, pulling a few times to make sure they were secure and sturdy. Enjoy your stay, milord, the Hawk grinned and left, closing and locking the door after him.


    Brand sank down onto the crude bench that served as bed and chair. A torch burning in the hallway outside cast a dim light through the barred window in his door. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to examine his chamber. It was quickly done; a nkety folded next to him, and straw had been spread onto the stone floor to mitigate its coldness. Gods, hear me, he mumbled with a despondent expression. Help me, for my circumstances cannot get any worse.


    A voice reached him from the adjacent cell. Is someone else there? Did the guards bring a new prisoner? someone asked. My sympathies for your situation, though I hope you are not adverse to conversation. The hours grow long in this ce. Frowning, Brand listened as the voice continued. I am Athelstan of Isarn, friend, and who are you?


    Brand let his head sink into his hands.


    ~~~~


    Early next day, Brand received a visitor. The guard unlocked the door to let in Arndis, and she hastened forward to embrace her brother tightly. I am well, I am well, he repeated, stroking her hair. You need not be worried.


    She pulled back. Of course I am worried! You are thest person who should be in a ce like this.


    Yet I am. Guilt or innocence has little bearing upon it, he told her.


    I tried to see Lord Konstans, but I could not get admitted.


    Brand shook his head. He will not see you. He has no reason to hear any plea you make.


    If he would at least tell me with what evidence they hold you  Arndis began to say.


    What would that aplish?


    We must plead your case to the Adalthing! she dered. If we can dismantle any proof they may have, the Adalthing must dere you innocent.


    I already told you, my guilt orck of same does not matter, her brother impressed upon her. All of this has carefully been nned. I was lured to Middanhal ahead of time that thendfrid would not protect me. Now they have me in chains, and Lord Konstans is far too clever to stumble on thisst step. The Adalthing is entirely under his and his brothers control. I saw thatst year, he added bitterly.


    Maybe that control can be broken. Lord Theodoric is our friend and wields influence too, Arndis suggested.


    Brand sat down, exhaling deeply. Jarl Ingmond mes me for the death of his family. There is nothing he wants more than to see my head separate from my shoulders. Between him and Jarl Vale, I would need nearly every other member of the Adalthing on my side to be acquitted.


    Then I will get them on our side! Arndis proimed fiercely. I will plead, beg, threaten, bribe, extort, and do what else I must to see you freed!


    Brand looked up at his sisters face. I am in no position to stop you. But heed my counsel, sister. Sell our house, take all the coin we have, and depart for distant realms. Do not let my downfall pull you with me. Escape while you can.


    I will not abandon you, Arndis told him firmly. I will return. Keep your spirits up, Brother.


    She caressed his head for a moment before departing; he watched her leave with a resigned smile.


    Walking down the corridor, Arndis stopped briefly in front of Athelstans cell to look through the window. He nced up, and as their eyes met, a smile was lit on his face before she continued on her way. Once she was gone, Athelstan called out, You are fortunate to have a sister such as thedy Arndis.


    Yes, I am certainly in fortunes grasp, Brand muttered, rattling his chains.


    Did you speak? I could not hear, Athelstan shouted apologetically. Brand responded with a deep sigh.


    ~~~~


    Arndis went straight from the dungeons to the chambers upied by the siblings of Theodstan. Theodwyn sent a nce at the dirty hemline on Arndis dress but did not remark upon it, instead gesturing for her visitor to take a seat. You must be so distraught, dear child. Did you manage to sleep at all?


    I am fine, Arndis replied, remaining standing. Eleanor was a gracious hostess.


    Room could be found for you here, Theodwyn offered. My brother has filled the chambers with his thanes, but I am happy to throw some of them out.


    That will not be necessary, Arndis told her, quickly changing the subject. I need your help and that of your brothers.


    Theodoric is elsewhere. I do not know when he might return, but let us speak until then.


    Arndis finally sat down and took a deep breath. I need to know if the jarl can see my brother exonerated in the Adalthing.


    Theodwyn sped her hands. He will seek to influence the assembly in that direction, of course.


    Good, Arndis exhaled. That is a start.


    It may not be enough, Theodwyn admitted. If Jarl Ingmond follows Jarl Vale, they need only to convince sixndgraves of your brothers guilt.


    He is not guilty of anything, Arndis eximed.


    Of course not, but what matters in the Adalthing is whether the lord protector can make it seem so.


    How? Arndis asked confounded. What possible reason could there be to suspect Brand of anything?


    There are  rumours, Theodwyn spoke with careful phrasing. Jarl Vale will fan the mes of such, I imagine.


    Rumours? Of what?


    Theodwyn hesitated. That your brother sought alliances in order to lead a revolt. In fact, it is said that he sought to marry you to the king of Korndale to secure the kings armies for his cause.


    That is preposterous! Arndis could barely sit still. Brand defeated the rebels, why would he be one?


    You and I know that, Theodwyn exined, but it is notmon knowledge.


    Arndis was silent for a moment, calming herself. So it is thendgraves that will determine his fate.


    Theodwyn regarded her friend with concern. My dear, it is almost time for me to take my stroll. Will you not join me? It will do you good.


    Thank you, I have no need of it, Arndis replied absentmindedly.


    At this point, the jarl entered, followed by two of his thanes. He stopped as he saw Arndis and nodded in greeting. Mydy, he said courteously, removing his cloak and handing it to Holebert, who appeared upon his masters arrival.


    My lord, she greeted him back.


    Theodoric, it is good you have returned. Arndis needs our help to secure her brothers release.


    I see, the jarl mumbled. It may not be that easy.


    Nobody expects it to be easy, Theodwyn retorted. You have swayed the Adalthing against worse odds.


    That was a different time, Theodoric countered. It is not a matter of persuading thendgraves to support your brother, it is persuading them to oppose Vale. With his tight grip on power, few will be willing to do so.


    You will try, will you not? Arndis asked with concern.


    I shall see what I can do, Theodoric promised her, though his words were spoken cautiously. We already have a rebellion on our hands, and the noblemen are frightened. It is easy to make them see traitors everywhere.


    My brother is not a traitor! Arndis interjected, standing up.


    Do not worry, Theodwyn spoke in a soothing voice. Theodoric has no intentions of giving up. Have you, Brother?


    The jarl cleared his throat. I shall see what can be done, he reiterated faintly.


    Arndis let her gaze measure him from head to toe. You have my gratitude for that, my lord jarl, she spoke politely. If you will excuse me. She gave a short bow and left with haste.


    Theodwyn sent her brother a scathing look. You could have at least attempted to reassure the poor girl.


    And lie to her? he retorted. I was as kind as I could be.


    You could have pledged your full support, that you would do your utmost to save her brother from the axe.


    His fate is sealed, Theodoric imed. I shall lend my voice to him in the Adalthing, but no more. If I negotiate with thendgraves on his behalf, suspicion will fall on me next!


    I find yourpany difficult when you act cowardly, Theodwyn dered coldly, leaving abruptly for her own room without another word.


    Theodoric stared at the door she closed behind her. I am keeping us both alive, you ungrateful woman, he muttered through gritted teeth.


    You always do what you know is best, another voice spoke. It was Holwyn, entering the parlour to ce a hand on Theodorics shoulder. We all know this.


    That does not seem to be the case for my sister, the jarl grumbled.


    I think you are right and that Sir Adalbrand is doomed. Unless unusual measures are taken into use, she proffered.


    Theodoric turned his eyes on her. No. They are looking for any excuse to tighten the noose around anybody that might seem against them. Do not give Vale or his brother any reason to lead either of us to the scaffold as well.


    As you say, milord, Holwyn dered meekly; she inclined her head and retreated a few steps, hiding her expression.


    ~~~~


    I heard the story of your victory at Polisals. It was most impressive, Athelstan called out. When he received no reply, he continued. It must have been exhrating to be hailed as the Dragonheart with the rush of battle and victory coursing through your veins. I can only imagine your state of mind on that day.


    You need not tter me, Brand retorted. You have won your own share of battles. You know the taste of victory as well as any other.


    I have, Athelstan granted. Yet none where I challenged the enemy captain to singlebat and turned the tide of the battle by felling him. You would think such only happened in song.


    I suppose, Brand assented, sounding mollified. In fact, a skald in Hthiod chose to travel in mypany, and he witnessed the battle. He must have thought as you, for he put the deed into verse.


    Hah! Athelstan eximed. I always knew they would sing your name one day. It happened sooner than I anticipated.


    I guess, Brandmented with a pleased voice.


    I wish I could have seen the sight, Athelstan dered. How you waded into battle and hacked your enemys head off.


    Brand gave a frown. How do you know such details of the battle? I did not mention this in my dispatches.


    Arndis told me.


    My sister has been paying you visits in this godforsaken hole? Brands voice quivered between disbelief and outrage.


    She has. She bribes the guards, I believe. Even her considerable charm could not grant her passage this often.


    Often? The word was bellowed by Brand. What in Hels name would shee to visit you for?


    An act of kindness, I would assume. She brings me news of the outside or ys chess against me. She is most skilled.


    I know, Brand said icily, I taught her. If I had known she spent her time so frivolously, I would have returned to Middanhal months ago. Athelstan gave no reply at first, but suddenly he roared withughter. Brand pressed his lips together, but finally curiosity took hold and he yelled out, What?


    You must have earned a lot of silver from the spoils after your victory against me, Athelstan began to exin.


    So?


    That very silver was used by your sister to bribe her way into visiting me. I could have epted it as mere coincidence that you and I are now made neighbours in imprisonment, but the evidence is mounting. The gods have a sense of humour, and the jest is yed upon us.


    Then let that be your entertainment and let me have some peace, Brand shouted, crossing his arms and ignoring further attempts at conversation.


    ~~~~


    Meanwhile, Arndis entered the wing upied by Jarl Vale and his family. She did not get far before a pair of Hawks stopped her. What is your business?


    I seek an audience with the lord protector, she answered.


    They both grinned. You thought you would simply walk in and speak with the ruler of the realm?


    How could that fail to work? the other soldierughed.


    Arndis ced her hand on her coin purse. I understand there may be a certain toll in order to pass.


    The Hawks eyed her and exchanged nces. Do you hear what I hear?


    I hear someone thinking were willing to risk our employment for a few meagre coins.


    Arndis bit her lower lip. I would make it worth


    As if our employer wouldnt notice we let someone walk right past us and into his chamber, or worse, into the room where his newborn son sleeps.


    There would be a flogging in our future. But who wouldnt happily take a whipping for a handful of silver?


    While the soldiersughed at her expense, Arndis saw someone moving down the corridor. Lady Valerie! she called out, making the shape turn around. Lady Valerie, may I speak with you?


    The woman hesitated but eventually walked down the hallway to approach the group. At her presence, the Hawks ceased their merrymaking and stood up straight with nk expressions. Do I know you? Valerie asked.


    I am Arndis of House Arnling, she introduced herself.


    Valerie inclined her head in greeting. What do you require of me? she asked, a little confused.


    I should dearly wish to speak with your father, Jarl Vale, she added politely, if such a thing is possible.


    My father rarely receives visitors. You should speak with my uncle, Lord Konstans, instead, Valerie suggested.


    I have tried, but he seems too busy to receive me, Arndis exined. Your father is my remaining hope.


    I cannot help you in that case, Valerie told her and turned to leave.


    Wait! My brother is the only family I have, Arndis pleaded. I ask humbly that you would intercede with the jarl on my behalf.


    In this case, my father does not listen to me, Valerie replied with a hint of regret. You have my sympathy, Lady Arndis, but do not expect that of my fathers.


    What of the prince? Are you not engaged to him?


    Valerie gave a frown. Our engagement has not been made official. I do not see the relevance, regardless. It is not Prince Hardmar who has had your brother arrested.


    Yet the lord protector must heed him, I imagine, Arndis imed. Prince Hardmars opinion must weigh heavily.


    Perhaps, Valerie admitted doubtfully, but I am sure his opinion is aligned with my fathers. I have even less sway with the prince, in any case. I have not met him even once save from afar, and I doubt he holds any affection for me.


    An expression of dejection fluttered across Arndis face before sheposed herself. I see. I thank you for your attention, Lady Valerie. She gave a short bow and departed. The guards waited until Valerie had gone as well before resuming theirughter.


    ~~~~


    Athelstan moved about, restless in his cell. With the chains restricting him, his options were limited; mostly, he shifted between sitting on his bench and lying down upon it, moving the nket about, or arranging the dispersion of straw upon the floor. Eventually he called out to his neighbour. Fourth pawn two steps forward. He received no answer. After waiting a while, he repeated himself. I move my fourth pawn two paces forward.


    He had to be patient before he finally got a reply. Second pawn one step forward.


    Athelstan gave a smile. Thane on ck, three steps forward.


    You tried that before. Last summer we spent in Alczar. Knight on ck, two steps forward and ind.


    I thought you might have forgotten, Athelstanughed. You cannot me me for trying.


    I suppose not. Brand cleared his throat. Your move.


    ~~~~


    With evening on its way, Arndis approached the royal wing. Instead of Hawks, she was met by kingthanes, who nced at the blue colours of her clothing. Lady Arndis, they greeted her respectfully. What brings you here?


    I desire an audience with Prince Hardmar, she informed them.


    It iste, but we can enquire whether the prince is avable to receive visitors, one of them offered.


    I was not thinking tonight, Arndis corrected them. If you would be so kind as to tell the prince that I hope to return tomorrow afternoon with his approval. He will have my utmost gratitude should he be amenable to entertain me, even but a short while.


    One of the kingthanes nodded. Of course, Lady Arndis. I will tell the prince immediately. He turned and disappeared deeper into the wing. Shortly after, he returned. The prince has agreed to your request and expects you tomorrow afternoon.


    Arndis gave a slight bow. You have my gratitude, my lords. Until tomorrow.

 Chapter 84: Joining the Play

    Chapter 84: Joining the y


    Joining the y


    Middanhal


    The next day at noon, Arndis presented herself in the royal wing. She was d in silk of deep blue colour with magnificent silver jewellery and had intricate hair, moving with the grace of Austre through the Citadel. Many of the kingthanes sent lingering nces as she passed by, reaching the inner chambers.


    Lady Arndis has arrived. One of the guards introduced her to the prince, who sat alone in the parlour of his rooms.


    Enter, Hardmar spoke graciously.


    She did so with an elegant bow. My prince, she greeted him.


    Lady Arndis, he replied with a charming smile as his eyes took in the sight. Please, take a seat. She sat down opposite him. To what do I owe this unexpected delight?


    I wish to speak with you concerning these troublesome events that transpire in your realm, my prince.


    I will always lend an ear to hear the concerns of my loyal subjects, Hardmar imed. Proceed.


    I fear that the kingdom is in the hands of people seeking only their own gain at the detriment of everyone else, including you, my prince, Arndis stated.


    Hardmar raised an eyebrow in a sceptical expression. How so?


    Jarl Vale was chosen lord protector, yet he seems too preupied with his newborn son to handle the affairs of the realm as charged. Meanwhile, the dragonlord rules as he sees fit, undermining the authority ofw and you, my prince.


    Hardmar gave a quickugh. That is a bold im, Lady Arndis. I will excuse you, as you are a woman with little knowledge of these matters. Yet given your dubious rtions, you should be careful casting aspersions on others.


    Very true, my prince, Arndis hastily agreed. I speak only from what I have seen. If you will permit me to tell you, perhaps you can see where I have misunderstood.


    As you wish. Tell me. There was a tone of boredom emerging in his voice.


    You know the events of the other day when my brother was arrested, Arndis quickly began. I cannot imagine Lord Konstans would make such a decision without consulting you on every detail and obtaining your full permission.


    Of course, Hardmar mumbled.


    I was present, my prince, and Lord Konstans did not handle this matter well. If he had informed my brother of the charges, Adalbrand would haveplied peacefully. Instead, we were assaulted in our chambers by these brigands masquerading as mercenaries and forced to fight to defend ourselves! I do not wish to paint myself as a frail flower, my prince, butbat between armed men is no ce for ady, and adys chambers are no ce forbat.


    I grant you that Lord Konstans could have handled the matter with more grace, Hardmar conceded magnanimously. Yet it was his task to arrest a suspected traitor, mydy, and he did as instructed. Your brother was wrong to resist regardless of the circumstances.


    Of course, my prince, I see that now. Will you permit another question?


    Fine.


    Why was this not handled by Order soldiers? The Order, loyal to the king, is the guarantee of peace andw in ournd. Yet these mercenaries, loyal only to gold, answer to the lord protector. Or in this case, his brother, Arndis argued. It is not the royal treasury that pays the Red Hawks, but Jarl Vales coffers.


    The jarl is lending his aid while the Order rebuilds its strength. I have no intention of letting the Hawks take the ce of the Order, Hardmar dered.


    Of course not, my prince. You are far too wise for that. It is merely that the thought of mercenaries protecting our home is disconcerting. There are rumours that the prison guards ept bribes to let anyone see the prisoners.


    I cannot believe such, Hardmar stated forcefully. They would not dare.


    They are mercenaries, Arndis repeated. As Sigvards atheling, any true son or daughter of Adalrik can only be loyal to you, my prince. But who can say with men from foreign realms, fighting for coin?


    Hardmar scratched his cheek. The Hawks may not be trustworthy, but that is no reason to doubt Jarl Vale or his brother.


    You are right, as always, my prince, Arndis assented with a meek expression. I have trouble understanding the intricacies of rule or theplicated affairs of state. After the frightful experience the other day with these sell-swords, I could not help but begin to fear.


    You have no cause for that, Hardmar reassured her. This is not the court of some savage king.


    I am greatly relieved to hear such, my prince, Arndis told him, her voice echoing this sentiment. Jarl Vale is already the most powerful nobleman in the realm with his titles, riches, and vassals. The thought of his mercenary army added to his own forces gave me pause. Hardmar was about to speak, but Arndis words made him frown in contemtion instead. It is a relief that you would grant me the courtesy of listening to my silly concerns, my prince. She sent him a smile to make a mans kneecaps falter.


    I am happy to, Hardmar replied, all signs of worry disappearing from his face.


    Arndis turned a little to nce at the nearby table, where a chessboard stood with an unfinished game. I assume you y, my prince?


    From time to time. That is my brothers current game. Young boys, finding it hard to finish even a simple game, Hardmar said in an overbearing tone.


    I have recently learned the game myself, Arndis confided in him. Some might say it is not fitting for a woman, but I confess to a certain thrill. What would you say, my prince?


    I see no harm, Hardmar dered.


    Would you do me the great honour of ying a match against me? I can only imagine I would learn so much.


    Hardmar gave a smile as overbearing as his voice. I would be delighted. He gestured towards the table and got up, courteously pulling out the chair for her. Do you know how the pieces are set up? he asked, taking his own seat opposite her.


    I believe I recall, but please correct me if I should make a mistake, Arndis implored him.


    I shall, Hardmar promised.


    ~~~~


    Half an hourter, Hardmar moved his jarl forward. Game end, he dered triumphantly.


    You are too clever at this game for me, Arndis told him. Yet I am not cross at all, for I feel I have learned so much.


    You were a worthy opponent, Hardmar said in a gracious voice. With practice, you might present a challenge to me some day.


    I cannot imagine ever possessing such skill, Arndis blushed. You do tter me, my prince.


    Not at all, Hardmar assured her with a smile.


    Unfortunately, none of thedies at court know the game or can teach me to improve. Perhaps, she began to say before interrupting herself. I forget myself.


    Do continue, Hardmar encouraged her.


    Could I impose upon my prince to y against me again? I cannot hope to find a better teacher, Arndis said shyly.


    Why not, Hardmar agreed cordially. Come see me tomorrow at the same time.


    Arndis rose and gave a deep, slow bow, sending the prince a radiant smile afterwards. I can hardly wait, my prince.


    ~~~~


    Stormdders, Brand insisted. They will arrive the fastest, and with the few archers that Alczar has, the danger is light.


    You forget the catapults upon the towers, Athelstan retorted. A few shots in the right ces will decimate your men. Siege towers or even just a shielded battering ram stand better chances of reaching the walls.


    If I have men on horseback transport thedders, the catapults will not have time strike fast enough. As you did yourself against Middanhal, I was told.


    True, I did, Athelstan agreed. Yet you still need your infantry to run across the open field before they can scale the walls. Even in staggered formations, you might lose hundreds to the stone throwers.


    It is a risk, but siege towers or battering rams are even more exposed, Brand argued, even gesturing with his hands into the solitude of his confinement.


    How so?


    If the catapults throw stones in their path, the wheels will be stuck.


    Athelstanughed in the darkness of his cell. Point taken. Which gate would you move against?


    I would feint an attack on the Kabirs Gate, making the Kabir fear for his pce and draw his forces there while actually storming the Purple Gate.


    Same here, Athelstan nodded to himself. Only a fool would assault the Kabirs Gate. Even if you took the city fortifications, the pce walls behind would keep your forces hemmed in. He coughed a few times and raised his voice so he could be heard in the other cell. What about Herbergja? Without any fleet at your disposal, he added.


    Any other restrictions?


    None. You have siege engineers, archers, cavalry, any supplies you might need, but no ships.


    Brand chewed on his lower lip. Can you mine the walls?


    Ground is too soft. Your tunnels would copse long before you reach the city defences.


    That rules out rolling siege engines across such terrain, Brand mumbled. Very well, this is what I would do


    ~~~~


    Lord Konstans desires an audience, my prince.


    Fine, show him in, Hardmar directed his thane, who nodded and disappeared. Shortly after, the dragonlord entered. What is it? asked the prince curtly.


    I was told some troubling news, Konstans began to speak.


    Why are news always troubling, Hardmar questioned sardonically. Continue, he gestured at Konstans.


    They say that Arndis, the Arnling sister, visited you for quite some time today.


    What is it to you? Hardmar gave a scowl. And how do you know? Do you spy upon your prince?


    Never, Konstans quickly imed. It was one of your subjects, concerned about you.


    A kingthane? Who betrays my confidence? Hardmar nearly bellowed.


    My prince, I must warn you against being seen with this woman. We have just arrested her brother for treason, yet your association with her may cast his doubt into guilt.


    You arrested him, the prince spoke coldly. Without warning me.


    You told me to deal with Adalbrand, so I did, Konstans replied with equalck of warmth.


    By letting your brigands spill blood inside my castle! This time, Hardmar did not control his voice. Nor will you tell me what spies you have nted in my chambers!


    I would never dare spy upon you, my prince, Konstans imed. I and others are merely worried. This woman is likely a traitor herself and should not be let into your presence.


    You think she poses a threat to me? Hardmar asked contemptuously. You think a woman might strike me down?


    Of course not, my prince


    I suppose I should be concerned, the prince continued angry. I cannot trust my own kingthanes or my servants!


    Konstans took a deep breath, holding his tongue at first. My prince, forgive me for disturbing you. I shall take my leave.


    See that you do, Hardmar dismissed him, turning his back demonstratively. Disdain ran across Konstans face before the dragonlord turned around and stormed out.


    ~~~~


    In Eleanors chamber, Arndis sat by her vanity mirror. She was removing her jewellery, carefully cing each piece into a box made for that purpose. I will need to borrow some of yours tomorrow, she told her hostess.


    But I have nothing as fine as yours, Eleanor imed.


    It does not matter, Arndis replied. I cannot appear two days in a row wearing the same. Even someone with his poor observational skills would notice that.


    Is it so important?


    I must use every advantage I can. My dress, ne, earrings, hair, everything must be used to blind him into infatuation with me.


    You are ying with fire, Eleanor remarked nervously, scratching the burn scars on her cheek.


    The greatest risk was seeking him out without knowing his disposition, Arndis told her friend while picking out new ornaments and evaluating herself in the mirror. He might have had me thrown into prison next to Brand.


    Thank the gods he did not, Eleanor shivered.


    The hardest part was manoeuvring so that he won the game without making it too easy for him.


    The chess game?


    Yes, of course, Arndis replied impatiently, discarding one ne in favour of another.


    Why was that necessary?


    If I had simply let him win, he would have been bored with the game and mypany. I needed to present a sufficient challenge to pique his interest without wounding his pride by making him lose, Arndis exined. Obviously.


    I see, Eleanor simply remarked. Arndis, you seem burdened. I worry about you.


    Arndis bit her lip, swallowing the first words that came to her. I know, Eleanor, your concern is appreciated, she finally spoke. But all I need from you is that you will lend me this ne and these earrings. My chambers have been cleaned, so I shall return to them tonight.


    Already? If you feel unsafe, you are more than wee


    Brands men will be staying there as well. Besides, it is not as if one room in this castle is safer than the other.


    I suppose not. Eleanor sent her friend an apprehensive look. Be careful, Arndis. You do not trifle with powerful people. The price to pay is heavy. She ran her fingers across her scars.


    Picking up the pieces she intended to borrow, Arndis gave her an absentminded smile. Worry not, dear Eleanor. Thank you for this. She made a gesture to indicate the jewellery in her hands and departed.


    ~~~~


    The door to Brands cell was unlocked, and a tall figure in a red robe entered. Quill, the prisoner greeted him, standing up. I did not expect this visit.


    I wish I came for better reasons or with happier tidings, thew keeper said. The Adalthing convenes in a few days. I havee to inform you of the usations levelled against you and how your trial at the Adalthing shall proceed.


    Very well. I have a question to ask first, though.


    Yes?


    Brand gazed at Quill in the darkness. The letter summoning me to the Adalthing gave me the wrong date. As a consequence, I arrived here early, before thendfrid, and I was immediately arrested. Did you betray me, Quill?


    I would never! he eximed, sounding aghast. It would be a crime against the sanctity of my office. It is unthinkable!


    Brand nodded a few times. I thought as much, but I had to ask. He sat down on his primitive seat.


    I suppose I cannot me you, given your circumstances, Quill admitted.


    What do you have to tell me about the trial?


    You stand used of high treason. The specific usations against you will beid out by the dragonlord once your trial begins, Quill began to exin.


    I cannot wait to discover my crime, Brandmented with a sardonic smile.


    Any evidence and witnesses will be brought before the assembly. Afterwards, you will be given the chance to refute the allegations, dispute the evidence, make a plea for mercy, or whatever you think is best.


    It will not be begging for mercy, I can tell you that, Brand dered.


    When both sides have spoken, the Adalthing must decide your guilt, and we will count the voices for or against. As you are the one standing used, you will not be asked, but you are still considered a member, and you affect the number of voices necessary to reach a majority, Quill borated.


    I doubt Lord Konstans would be careless enough to let that matter, Brand remarked with another joyless smile. What are they saying about me, Quill? Do people believe the usations against me?


    I think most people are confused and uncertain, the scribe stated at length. They are withholding judgement until they see the evidence at the Adalthing.


    I am curious about that myself, Brand said almost with a sneer. I wonder what they have conjured to paint me guilty.


    I am sorry that I cannot offer more aid. Quill wringed his hands. If possible, I would find out what proof they have, but as thew keeper, I am forbidden from interfering.


    Brand looked up from his seated position. The evidence will not matter. It is a question of whether enough members of the Adalthing agree with Lord Konstans that I am an enemy.


    It is deplorable to think about, Quill stated, that they would see you fall despite your innocence.


    Not to mention, if they fail to band together and protect me, if they follow the dragonlord blindly, there is nothing to protect them from suffering the same fateter on, Brand remarked. That is my only hope. That they fear what power Lord Konstans might gain in the future more than the power he holds right now.


    I must continue, Quill told him. I must inform the others who also stand used.


    Wait. What of Sir William? Does he share my fate?


    He does not. He remains free. In fact, I hear he has been demanding Captain Theobald to intervene and seeking to intercede on your behalf to anyone who might listen.


    Brand gave a half-hearted smile. He has not had much luck.


    We will meet again, Brand. Not for thest time, I hope.


    Farewell, Quill.

 Chapter 85: Snake Pit

    Chapter 85: Snake Pit


    Snake Pit


    Middanhal


    The kingthanes escorted Arndis to the royal chambers without dy once she appeared. In a ttering dress and with new jewellery, she turned as many heads as the day before. As soon as Hardmar saw her, he shed a smile and turned to his brothers. Leave. Their eyes darted between him and Arndis. Leave, he repeated with anger rising in his voice. The youths quickly got up and made an awkward departure while bowing before thedy, who smiled and returned their courtesies with more grace.


    You have such an air ofmand, my prince, Arndis ttered.


    They know who is master, Hardmar replied with a casual tone of voice. I had the servants tap a fine barrel of wine, he continued, gesturing towards the table where a bottle of wine had been ced along with two cups. Would you care for some now? I will have it served.


    I should take a cup with delight, but allow me, Arndis proposed, pouring herself. The appearance of servants can feel so crude at times. I prefer the mood as it is now, she added coyly. Having filled the two cups, one more than the other, she presented the drink to the prince.


    I will not deny being presented wine by such a delicate hand, Hardmar remarked. I have set up the game for us. Shall we? He extended his hand in invitation towards the table where the chess set awaited them.


    With pleasure. I look forward to what I might learn today.


    ~~~~


    Half an hour and half a bottleter, Hardmar dered victory, and Arndis appeared deeply impressed. You leave me confounded with your ability to see openings everywhere, she told him.


    The art lies in creating an opening where none exist, Hardmar revealed with a superior smile. But you already show progress. I almost thought at one point you might win this match.


    You should not tter such, my prince, Arndis spoke with blushing cheeks, helped along by the mixture she had applied an hour earlier. If I make progress, it is only because my teacher is so proficient.


    Now who is ttering whom? Hardmar asked with a grin, taking yet another sip from his cup.


    Truly, you have the signs of amander. You would make a great captain, leading armies in the field.


    That is true, the prince considered. That is what this game teaches, after all, how to direct troops.


    It is an enjoyable game, Arndis remarked. A pleasant distraction from the troubles of the day.


    If you are referring to your brothers predicament, you have my sympathy, but that is all I can offer. It is a matter for the Adalthing, and we must trust it has the wisdom to decide these matters, Hardmar told her with an overbearing voice.


    I trust in your wisdom, Arndis confided in him, emphasising thest two words. And so I shall trust the Adalthing.


    Very sensible.


    I only fear what shall happen to me afterwards. I have no father, my prince, and a woman left without family is defenceless. She bit her lip in an anguished expression.


    No woman of Sigvards blood will ever be defenceless at my court, Hardmar dered with grandeur. You have no reason to fear.


    A stone falls from my heart, Arndis dered, pressing a hand to where her heart resided. I knew a prince of your stature would not let anything befall me. The line of Sigvard is safe in your hands. Prince Hardmar, defender of the dragonborn. If any deserve to be titled Dragonheart, it is surely you.


    Hardmar gave a satisfied smile. If that is your judgement, I will not gainsay you.


    Again you show your wisdom, my prince.


    ~~~~


    Howe there are no defensive stone throwers on the walls of Middanhal? Brand wondered. Given that there is only a small area for the enemy to approach, a catapult on each tower would be devastating.


    That was originally the intention, Athelstan replied. He was arranging the straws upon the ground to resemble a city with fortifications and towers, and he had broken some into numerous pieces to create an army that was attacking the walls.


    Truly?


    Athelstan nodded in the dark until he responded in speech instead. If you ever examine one of the towers, you can see the markings in the ground where the machinery was meant to be anchored.


    I had no idea, Brand admitted. I will be sure to take note of that next time I pass by. They bothughed. Why are there none now?


    They were dismantled long before my time. My best guess would be that having siege engineers to maintain and operate them was deemed too costly in peace time, Athelstan spected.


    To be fair, catapults would not have saved the city from me or Sir Richard.


    They sharedughter once more.


    ~~~~


    Konstans was pacing around the room. Not his own, but the chamber belonging to his wife. Please, dear husband, you will give me a headache if you do not sit down, Mathilde dered.


    He is proving not only impossible to control, but impossible to work with, Konstansined, though he ceased walking around. I could live with him being headstrong if his decisions were not so obviously foolish and self-destructive.


    That is the nature of princes and kings, Mathilde stated prosaically. She sat in the corner of the room, following her husband with her eyes.


    Any suggestion I make, he is bound to do the opposite. The only thing that seems certain is that he is determined to do what is against his own best interests, Konstans continued, resuming his pacing.


    You exaggerate, I am sure. He is making a fool of himself, true, but that will only make the Adalthing less inclined to heed him and thus more inclined to heed you, Mathilde imed.


    It is more than that, Konstans muttered in a dark tone of voice. I see the signs of someone ill equipped to handle power. Before we know it, we have another King of Grief with all the persecution and terror to follow. Summary executions, snake pits as in the old times, and worse.


    That is a dire prediction, his wife said. It cannot be so bad.


    Not yet, but I refuse to stand by and witness the realm descend into such chaos again. He stroked his chin. I may have to make ns.


    What of the younger brother? He seems eager to please. It was the Adalthing that made Hardmar heir. They can choose another, Mathilde suggested.


    To my knowledge, the Adalthing has never set aside an heir once confirmed, Konstans considered.


    These are not ordinary times. There is no king either to dere an heir for the Adalthing to confirm.


    True, but if we were to have another election, we may open the path for King Adrd to make his im known. Given the rebellion in the north, we do not need a conflict to erupt in the south.


    You were satisfied with the work done by that mercenary, were you not? Jerome was his name?


    I was. Konstans looked at his wife thoughtfully.


    You may require his services again.


    ~~~~


    The door opened to Brands cell. He squinted as the light flooded in, staring at the shape in the doorway.


    We finally meet again, Hardmar greeted him. How do you find your new amodations?


    After life in an army camp, I find them marvellous, Brand replied. Had I known I would experience such luxury, I would have gotten arrested long ago.


    Hardmar smiled sardonically. Your spirits have not suffered, I see. You must be wondering why I am here.


    Not really.


    Ignoring him, Hardmar continued. After your arrest, I did not n toe down here.


    Your n failed.


    I would see you in all your misery at the Adalthing, after all, so why make myself endure these dreadful surroundings?


    That is harshly put.


    Yet something has changedtely.


    I find the surroundings grow on you.


    I have had a visitor of my own.


    I prefer the rats to whatpany you bring.


    Hardmar gazed directly at Brand. Your sister.


    So far, the imprisoned man had been ncing idly in any direction but at the prince, but these words made him sit up straight and stare. You lie.


    You think I could not imagine a better lie if I wanted to injure you? Hardmar smiled with one corner of his mouth. Twice in as many days. At first, I thought she came to beg for your life, but she has barely mentioned you. She seems resigned to your fate.


    Brand rxed his position a little. What do I care?


    Maybe you do, maybe you do not. Her only concern seems to be her own safety. So she hase to me, seeking my protection. I admit that I enjoy this turn of events.


    Brand scoffed. Your attempts to wound me are as dull as your mind.


    I must say, she has managed to catch my eye. I never really took notice of her before, but she can be quite beautiful, is that not so?


    Brand narrowed his eyes and his hands became fists. Choose your words with caution.


    Hardmarughed. What threats can a condemned man in chains make? Brand leapt to his feet, stretching his chains to the limit as he stood face to face with the prince. Thetter recoiled but regained hisposure when it became clear that Brand could not reach him. So close, and yet so powerless, he grinned.


    All you have, you stole from me, Brand hissed through his teeth. You drape yourself in my victories. The throne you sit upon, the crown your greedy fingers caress, you would have none of it but for me.


    Yet I have it. All of it. And there is nothing you can change about it.


    I cannot be the only one to see this. Yourck of worth will be apparent soon enough.


    Hardmar let contempt run across his face. You think you are the only man who can win a battle? Once you are a head shorter, I will do what you have failed to do. I will gather the Orders armies and march to Hthiod myself, destroying the ounder scourge. Your name will be erased from the records, and I will stand as victor over the heathens.


    The prisoner stared at his visitor. Know this, Brand impressed upon him, straightening himself to his full height. As you have gained your position by unworthy means, so you are unworthy to keep it. I may be condemned, but so are you.


    For a moment, Hardmar tensed with a variety of emotions dancing across his face. Finally, heughed. I came here thinking you might beg for your life, but this proved much better entertainment. Thank you, Sir Adalbrand. The title was spoken with a sneer. We shall meet again soon.


    The prince departed, and Brand returned to his humble seat. I hope you are right, Athelstan called out from his cell. The prince is in a nest of vipers, and they must be poised to strike at him. But he seems so venomous himself, it is possible the vipers will be the ones to suffer in the end.


    Hardling, Vale, I care little, Brand imed. As long as someone suffers.


    Athelstan was quiet for a moment. Brand, will you forgive me?


    For what?


    That I broke my oath. That I chose to follow my brother rather than my Order. That I did not stay with you at Lake Myr.


    It took a little while before he received a reply. Does it matter? Brand asked. It will not change anything. It will not alter the course of our fate.


    It changes something for me. Soon, I will be walking up the scaffold, Athelstan dered darkly. This will be one less burden that I drag with me.


    If it matters to you, Brand told him, you have my forgiveness.


    Thank you. Athelstan let out a deep breath. I hope to see you on the other side. In the Sapphire City.


    That would disappoint me. I expect at least one of us to be bound for Hel, Brand dered.


    Laughter was heard from the other cell.

 Chapter 86: Brothers Three

    Chapter 86: Brothers Three


    Brothers Three


    Middanhal


    Inghard moved his pawn forward. King under threat. Gerhard scratched his neck. His hand hovered over his king piece until he changed his mind and grabbed a knight, letting it kill the offensive pawn. Inghard immediately moved his thane into the same position, removing the knight. King under threat, he repeated. Gerhard took a few deep breaths while his hand moved around the board indecisively.


    Need advice? Hardmar offered with an overbearing voice. He was reading letters from their home at Hardburg, but nced up to look at his brothers. I am adept at teaching this game.


    You lost thest three times we yed, so I doubt you can help him, the youngest remarked while keeping his eyes on the board.


    Shut up, Inghard, Hardmar said with a sour expression.


    He is right, you are worse than either of us, Gerhard scoffed. What gave you the idea you are any good?


    It is thatdy, Inghard exined. Arndis of House Arnling. I saw the chess board after you yed against her.


    Then you should know my skill, Hardmar retorted.


    How long do you n to entertain her as your visitor? Gerhard asked. She is the sister of a traitor and not suitablepany for you.


    It is your move, Inghard pointed out.


    Do not presume to tell me what is suitable for me, Hardmar sneered. I will entertain her as long as I find her pleasing.


    Did Lord Konstans not warn you?


    Your only option is to move your king, Inghard spoke.


    What do you know of our conversations? Hardmar narrowed his eyes as he stared at his brother and stood up. You take an unhealthy interest in my affairs, Brother.


    This affects us all, Gerhard imed. It reflects poorly upon us when you spend your time with the sister of a traitor right before the Adalthing gathers.


    Never mind. You would have lost in two moves anyway, Inghard said resigned.


    Have you considered that while Lord Konstans tries to get Adalbrand convicted, your association with that woman makes him seem innocent? Gerhard questioned him.


    Spare me. Hardmars face became contorted with contempt. I saw himst night. His guilt is obvious.


    You saw him? Inghard asked with sudden interest. You visited him?


    Why? Gerhard added.


    Because I wanted to throw it in his face how his sister now fawns over me, Hardmar told them with a cruel smile. He has nothing left, and I wanted him to know that.


    How did he react? Inghard wondered.


    He made idle threats. Hardmar frowned. Why do you care?


    He is one of the most famous men in the realm, if not all the realms, Inghard replied. I have heard much about him from the Kings Quill upon my visits to the library.


    All that reading will make your mind dull, Gerhard cautioned him with a condescending voice.


    The Quill is in league with this turncoat? Hardmar eximed.


    They became friends long ago, I think, when Adalbrand was still a page, Inghard exined.


    How knowledgeable you are where traitors are concerned, the crown prince scorned him.


    His youngest brother gave a shrug. He crossed the Weolcans with an army. He defeated Sir Athelstan before even bing a knight. Who would not find him interesting?


    Enough! Hardmar stormed out of the room, mming doors as he went.


    It is still your move, Inghard mentioned. Gerhard simply toppled Inghards king with a careless motion and left.


    ~~~~


    In the atrium for the chambers of House Arnling, an armed warrior sat at all times. Sometimes it was Geberic, sometimes ukos, and quite often both. At first, they had also insisted on following Arndis anywhere she went in the Citadel, but she had rejected to be watched in such a manner. Instead, the two sentinels resigned themselves to their shared quarters, sharpening their swords and constantly checking the hallway.


    Arndis had quickly grown ustomed to their presence and paid them little heed, being upied with her own affairs. She was mending a rift in a dress with needle and thread when her handmaiden entered her chamber. Pardon me, mistress, the servant said. Someone named Mistress Holwyn wishes to be received.


    Arndis walked out into the atrium and saw Holwyn running a finger down ukos sword to test its edge. Holwyn, she greeted the visitor. Does Theodwyn wish that I walk with her? She usually does it in the evening.


    Ie for other reasons, Holwyn told her. May we speak privately, mdy?


    Of course, Arndis replied, though uncertainty could be heard in her voice. Follow me. She returned to her chamber.


    Holwyn stepped inside, closing the door after her. Forgive me the secrecy, mdy, but you never know who is listening.


    What matter gives cause for such apprehension?


    Holwyn licked her lips. I am aware that you have been paying visits to our crown prince.


    An annoyed look came across Arndis face. I have no wish to discuss this matter.


    If you merely do it to secure a benefactor at this court, I will leave you alone, Holwyn continued with a scrutinising gaze. If your hope is to save your brother, we need to speak.


    Arndis nced at the door, but stayed in ce. Continue.


    The Adalthing will convict him, I am certain of it. My master cannot prevent it, nor can Prince Hardmar, regardless of how much you charm him, Holwyn stated.


    If that is all you have to offer


    On the contrary, Holwyn quickly spoke. I suggest we take the matter into our own hands.


    In what manner?


    I will exin in detail once the timees.


    Are you acting on behalf of the jarl? Arndis face lit up in sudden realisation.


    I am, Holwyn imed. I need to know if you are willing to do what is necessary.


    Yes, whatever it takes, Arndis dered forcefully.


    Good. Tell nobody for now. Act as if every word you speak will be overheard by Lord Konstans. There is a good chance it is true, Holwyn impressed upon her. We will meet again.


    Gods go with you, Arndis replied.


    ~~~~


    With the Adalthing approaching, Konstans spent every waking moment attending to tasks. He no longer appeared at any meals in the great hall, eating only what his servant brought him. He did not give audience or receive visitors either, except for a few people on a diminutive list. While in the midst of his preparations for the assembly, Eolf entered his study to inform him of such an exception. Prince Gerhard to see you, milord.


    Send him in.


    The young prince entered with hasty steps. My lord, we must speak!


    Of course. Be seated, Konstans bade him.


    I just spoke with Hardmar, Gerhard exined. He remained standing, pacing back and forth instead.


    Concerning?


    Hepletely disregards your advice about the Arnling woman, the prince eximed, throwing his hands into the air. He seems bent on putting our ns into peril.


    It saddens me that he will not listen to reason, Konstans imed, though his voice was absent any emotion.


    He has only grown more stubborn since he was made heir. He is bing a danger to us all, Gerhard spoke anxiously.


    You are wise beyond your years, the dragonlord told the prince. It is a cruel trick by fate that you were born the second son of your house.


    I have often thought so myself, Gerhard grumbled, making fists as he walked around the study.


    Sometimes, one might wonder if the Adalthing chose the wrong brother.


    Finally, Gerhard stood still. You think so?


    It has not been my thought, Konstans replied evasively. But I may havee across this sentiment from others.


    But Hardmar is the eldest, Gerhard objected.


    Tradition is on his side, Konstans granted. Yet thews of session do not state that only the eldest son of Sigvards line can be considered an atheling.


    I never thought about that, the prince admitted. I did not know.


    It does not matter now, I suppose, Konstans mused. The choice has been made.


    Not to mention, Hardmar would burn the Citadel to the ground before he let you take his crown, Gerhard added with awkwardughter.


    We shall speak no more of it, Konstans dered. I only thought you should know. My prince.


    I appreciate that you would tell me, the youth replied, and he left the study with a thoughtful look in his eyes.


    ~~~~


    The door opened to Brands cell, and the prisoner looked up to see a youth scarcely aged fourteen. You would think I would have some peace and quiet locked away in this ce, he murmured, narrowing his eyes to ascertain the colours of House Hardling upon his visitor. Whatever you wish, be swift. I am a busy man, as you can tell.


    I merely wanted to meet you. Inghard nced around the cell. I am notfortable in ces such as this, but my curiosity got the better of me.


    If you had given me warning, I could have cleaned the ce.


    No need to trouble yourself on my ount, the prince replied, holding a box under one arm. Master Quill has spoken about you on several asions.


    Brand swallowed whatever remark had been on its way past his lips and sat up straight. You know Quill?


    Inghard nodded, watching a rat scurrying about in the corner. When I go to library. He said that I remind him of you.


    Brand had not been incarcerated long enough for his strong physique to deteriorate, and his muscles were evident under the ragged remains of his tunic. The knight let his gaze run over the pale youth, whose arms and legs seemed as soft as his hands. Is that so.


    Yes, Inghard confirmed, oblivious to any of Brands barbs. He told me how you would often visit the library as a page.


    True, Brand admitted. My childhood was spent in that tower as much as anywhere else.


    Why?


    The chained knight sent the young prince an incredulous look. You wish to discuss my childhood? My reading habits?


    For better or worse, you are the most famous knight in the realm, Inghard exined. As a child, I heard about Theobald, the de of the North. Athelstan, the Wolf of Isarn. Or William the Unyielding. Now they tell stories about you. I am curious what man hides behind the legends.


    Brand rested his head against the wall. Take a look, boy. I am what we all are when the legends are stripped away.


    Inghard frowned. How so?


    All men are in the chains of fate. Mine are merely visible. He let the manacles rattle to emphasise his point.


    Master Anselm of Monteau, Inghard pointed out with satisfaction.


    Yes. You have read him?


    No, Inghard shook his head. Master Quill quoted that to me once and told me to read his <em>Ruminations</em>.


    Quill was right. Any prince or ruler should know his principles.


    I will never be ruler, Inghard shrugged.


    A month ago, I never thought I would be awaiting execution by my own people, Brand retorted.


    I will grant you that.


    If you will not read Master Anselm, take his most important lesson to heart, Brand impressed upon him. Sharpen the sword of justice with mercy. Fill your coffers with gold, spend your silver with ease. Be steadfast to your friends, be kind to your enemies, and you shall see thetter be the former. ce your value on coin, loyalty, and wisdom in the reverse order, Brand quoted from memory, that you may trust yourself, others, andstly that, which does not hold life in its hands.


    I shall remember your words, Inghard promised. He took the small box from under his arm, revealing its patterned look. I am told you are an excellent chess yer. My brothers cannot provide me with a challenge. Would you be interested?


    Brand eyed the chessboard. Let us set it up.


    ~~~~


    One of the Red Hawks knocked on the door to Valeries chamber. Once given entrance, he stuck his head inside the door. Lady Valerie, there is a Mistress Holwyn seeking to speak with you. She is a servant of Lady Theodwyn.


    Thank you, Valerie told him and left her room, walking down to meet Holwyn. Tell Lady Theodwyn that I appreciate being invited to join her evening walk, but I am rather tired tonight.


    Ie for another reason, mdy, Holwyn told her. I have a message that I was instructed to speak only in private, she added while ncing at the Hawks who stood guard.


    Fine, Valerie eded, returning to her room and followed by Holwyn. What is it?


    Holwyn closed the door behind them. Mdy asked my master once whether he would be inclined to spare the Isarn prisoners from execution, is that not so?


    Not my exact words, Valerie replied.


    But something to that effect?


    Possibly. Why?


    It seems unlikely the Adalthing can be convinced to show mercy. Yet a path may be found.


    You speak in riddles, Valerieined.


    If you want to save Lord Isenwald, you must be prepared to use deceit. Are you willing to do that? asked Holwyn.


    How do you mean?


    Answer me first. Are you willing to risk your fathers wrath for his life?


    Valerie stared at Holwyn. Yes. Now it is your turn to give me answers.


    More than that, I have a task to give you, Holwyn smiled.


    ~~~~


    Kate was finishing her duties in the library tower when the door opened and two kingthanes stepped through. Behind them came Hardmar, heir to the realms. Kate stood with mouth agape, staring at the prince, who did not notice her. Nor did he seem to spot Egil, who froze while gazing with wide eyes. Instead, Hardmar sought out Quill and approached the scribe. Master Quill, he spoke with a charming smile.


    The library keeper had been engrossed inw books; seeing the visitor, he quickly rose and gave a deep bow. My prince, what may I do for you?


    I havee for your counsel in a legal matter, Hardmar exined.


    Quill nced at the tomes upon his reading table. Your arrival is fortuitous. I was just reading about this subject in preparation for tomorrows Adalthing. How may I serve?


    It is a question of thews of session, the prince began to exin. As I have been told again and again, I may not be crowned until I reach the age of twenty-one.


    That is true, my prince. It is an ancient custom, rted to simrws regarding the age at which a person may marry or inherit, Quill informed him.


    A custom, you say, not aw?


    It was written intow many centuries ago. I believe the purpose was to ensure a child could not be crowned king while controlled by a regent hiding behind the throne. Instead, the office of the lord protector was instated, allowing the Adalthing some control over the process, Quill borated, sharing his knowledge with delight.


    Always the Adalthing seeking to control, Hardmar remarked. His smile faltered for a moment as he gazed upon the heavyw books, and when it returned, it did not touch his eyes. Yet we dispense with suchws in times of need. Titles may be inherited although the heir is too young.


    Only to ensure that the membership of the Adalthing is full, I believe, Quill added.


    Once again the Adalthing. Hardmars voice acquired an air of condescension briefly. We also allow those otherwise too young to marry. Lord Konstans had no difficulty arranging that for me.


    The king and his dragonlord have the right to extend this privilege, though it is rarely used, Quill assented. Though not to anyone younger than the age of sixteen, and both parties in any such marriage must still be willing as customary.


    So thesews are changed as we see fit, as we need, Hardmar remarked, tapping his fingers on the books on Quills table. Now there is need to make an exception to thew preventing me from receiving my crown.


    Your pardon, my prince? Quill questioned.


    You are myw keeper, my counsellor. Procure some document that grants me exception and allows me to be crowned now, not in four years, Hardmar instructed him.


    Regret washed over Quills face. My prince, I apologise, but that is not possible. No such document exists. Thews of the realm do not allow it.


    You are thew keeper. It is allowed if you say it is, Hardmar pressed him.


    I have taken a sacred oath to uphold thews of Adalrik in all my actions. I cannot break this oath for any reason.


    Hardmars smile faded. You are a scribe. Simply take your pen and write the script I need.


    My prince, I cannot. Quills face grew stern. Thisw was instituted by the Adalthing. If you wish it revoked, you must present it to the Adalthing and gain their favour for your purpose.


    Beg, you mean, Hardmar corrected him with a sneer. Plead for them to give me what is rightfully mine. Around the room, Kate and Egil retreated as far away from the prince as they could without attracting attention. As Quill did not reply, Hardmar turned towards his thanes. Seize him, hemanded, nodding at the old scribe.


    The kingthanes exchanged nces. Pardon, my prince?


    Are you deaf? Seize the old man! Hardmar roared, turning to point at the object of his ire.


    One of the kingthanes swallowed. He is the Kings Quill, my prince. We cannot.


    Hardmar spun around to stare at his men. You defy my orders? How dare you!


    The Quills person is sacred, my prince. He may not be harmed, the warrior exined cautiously. To assault him is to assault thew of thend.


    You serve me! Hardmar bellowed. Do as Imand!


    We protect you, the thane corrected. And should the Quill assault you in any manner, my prince, I will strike him down without hesitation. But as he is not even holding a sharp feather pen nor have made any act of aggression against you, I may not touch him.


    Traitors, all of you, Hardmar breathed heavily, ncing at everyone in the room. Finally, he stormed out, and after some hesitation, the kingthanes followed.


    Master Quill, Kate mumbled with quivering voice.


    You may be calm, Quill told her and Egil. Everything is well.


    What was he going to do? asked Egil.


    We will never know, thankfully. It iste. To bed with both of you.


    Yes, Master Quill, replied his helpers. They all found it hard to sleep that night.

 Chapter 87: Who We Are

    Chapter 87: Who We Are


    Who We Are


    Middanhal


    As the day of the Adalthing arrived, unease could be felt in the air. The Adalthing was meant to convene the day after summer solstice, and meeting so early in spring felt eerie to many. This was exacerbated by the fact that the Adalthing had also met out of timest year, and repeating this felt like an ill omen to many of its members. Most of these noblemen preferred to be left in peace without the Crown interfering in how they governed and taxed their estates; gathering the Adalthing to meddle in the Crowns affairs invited thetter to meddle in theirs. Furthermore, with the grim topic of traitors and executions looming, the stage was set for a bleak assembly.


    There was none of the merriment and idle talk between the different noblemen and their families, who would usually only meet for this asion at solstice. As noon approached, the lords gathered in the hall of the Adalthing. With the absence of Jarl Isarn, his margraves, and four of the northernndgraves, the chamber seemedrge and almost empty. Jarl Theodstan and his followers congregated in the northern part, appearing very few in number. Jarl Ingmond arrived with his vassals as did Jarl Vale, and the southernndgraves moved back and forth between their groups or asionally formed their own. Other than the absence of the rebellious lords, a key difference fromst years assembly was that the throne was once more upied. Although he was not king and had no formal role in the Adalthing yet, Hardmar had taken the seat with a satisfied expression, and none had seen cause to argue against it.


    The balconies were full of spectators. The high priest of the ckrobes in Middanhal with his silver-threaded clothing was present, as was Edwin, alderman of the guilds. Sir William had found a location and stood surrounded by several women such as Arndis and Theodwyn, friends of his former ward Eleanor, who was also by his side; Geberic and ukos stood nearby. Arion, chambein to the jarl of Vale, was another in the audience, and eventually the guards had to turn people away from walking up the stairs.


    As the noon bell resonated through the castle, Quill called the assembly to order. First, the ritual had to be overseen. Each present member of the Adalthing was consecrated by the priestess of Disfara and swore the oath to uphold the Adalthing, itsws, and its decisions. With the gathering sanctified, the trials could begin.


    ~~~~


    The first brought to the room was Elis,ndgrave and former dragonlord. His imprisonment hadsted many months now, and he bore the signs. His clothing was ragged and filthy, and the lords standing near the entrance shied away from the stench as he was dragged in by two Hawks. His hair was long and unkempt, his nails ragged and torn. He raised his hands to shield his eyes against the daylight and stood a pitiful sight with chains around his wrists, which had left the skin raw and red.


    As dragonlord, Konstans stated the allegation against him. He conspired with the rebels to surrender the Citadel to them; thus, the charge was treason by aiding a rebellion against the Crown. Witness to this was Isabel of Hthiod; although absent, her testimony had been heard by Theobald, captain of the Citadel, who repeated it before the Adalthing. Elis had revealed his ns to betray the defenders and ensure the castle fell into the hands of the Isarn army, and Isabel had subsequently informed the captain. Soon after, the rebels had carried out a nightly assault, though it was foiled as Elis treachery had been unmasked beforehand.


    The charge and evidence presented, Quill turned towards Elis. You may speak in your own defence now, my lord, or if you admit your guilt, you may call for the Adalthing to show mercy.


    Elis licked his lips. I am innocent, he imed. The only evidence against me is that of a woman, who is not even present. Why would I, andgrave of the south, seek to aid these murderous northerners? He nced around the hall at the other noblemen from the south, avoiding Theodoric and his men. I am the victim of a plot to see me fall.


    It is working, someone remarked with harshughter.


    Silence, Quillmanded. The prisoner alone may speak.


    I see that my enemies are numerous and have infiltrated even this ce, Elis continued, straightening up as much as he could. I will find no justice here. I demand my guilt is determined through trial bybat instead.


    The noblemen exchanged nces. Unfortunately, my lord, trial bybat is only permitted in disputes of honour and when evidence is absent. You stand used of treason, and evidence has been brought against you. For either of these reasons, your request cannot be granted, Quill exined, making many of the lords grin at Elis despondent appearance.


    I am innocent, Elis reiterated, though his voice was growing faint. I do not deserve this.


    Enough, Konstans dered.


    I do not deserve, Elis continued, stammering to himself.


    Let us have the voices counted, the dragonlordmanded, to which Quill nodded. He began the ritual questioning, asking each member to state whether he considered the used to be guilty or innocent in the charge brought against him. All dered him to be guilty.


    George,ndgrave of Elis, the Adalthing has spoken with one voice. You are found guilty of treason, which may be punished by geld, exile, or death. Furthermore, the right of your house to inherit your title is no longer guaranteed, Quill proimed.


    Execution! Hardmar announced loudly, making everyone turn towards him. The only reward for treason is death.


    Konstans cleared his throat. The doom ced upon him shall be execution by the axe. Remove the prisoner.


    Innocent, Elis croaked as the Hawks dragged him out.


    ~~~~


    Shortly after, three men were brought to the hall. One pushed against the guards, one walked with bowed head, and one moved with dignity. Isenwald of Isarn, Athelstan of Isarn, Eumund of Isarn, you stand used of high treason. You broke the kings peace with the aim to seize the throne for your lord. You led armies against the Order of Adal in open rebellion. You assaulted the garrison of Middanhal through deceit in order to further this aim. Furthermore, Sir Athelstan and Sir Eumund, you broke your oath as knights and the loyalty you owed the king, or in his absence, the lord protector at the time, Konstans dered.


    As you have surrendered after battle as part of rebellious forces, no further evidence has been considered necessary, Quill exined. Yet you may all speak in plea of mercy, asking the Adalthing to absolve you of your crimes.


    As the first used, Isenwald spoke first. I have nothing to say, he dered.


    Thank the gods, or we would be here all year, someone jested, evoking grimughter.


    Eumund nced around the room. Give me a sword, and I would gut each of you like the fat pigs you are, he proimed with an acerbic voice. I would rather have death than mercy from any of you. He caused a murmur; many met his contempt with their own disdain, while others expressed some measure of respect.


    Athelstan spoke as thest, but before any words left his tongue, he let his eyes move slowly among the collection of lords. I am resigned to my fate. I make no apologies nor excuses for my actions. I once did more for this realm than any man standing in this hall, and I received only exile in Alczar as reward. I did more than any man here to hurt this realm, and now I shall receive death. Hero or viin, our fate in this life remains the same. He nced up at the balcony and let his gaze rest upon Arndis. I bid you all farewell, knowing you shall never see the like of me again.


    Enough, yelled Hardmar. Let us get on with it.


    Let us count, Konstans demanded, and each lord proceeded to state for each prisoner whether they favoured him to be punished for his guilt or not. As with Elis, there was never any doubt about the oue.


    Isenwald of Isarn, Athelstan of Isarn, Eumund of Isarn, the Adalthing has spoken with one voice. You are found guilty of high treason, which may be punished by exile or death. Furthermore, Athelstan of Isarn and Eumund of Isarn have forfeited their rank as knights. You shall each be pronounced a knave and have your sword broken.


    They will be dead long before that, Hardmarughed. A few noblemen joined hisughter anxiously.


    All the prisoners are condemned to execution by the axe, Konstans announced. Return them to the dungeons.


    ~~~~


    When thest prisoner was brought to the chamber of the Adalthing, murmur rose from the floor and on the balconies. The previous trials had been matters of formality; this was the one that would be discussed for years toe. Walking tall, Brand entered the hall nked by guards. His incarceration had not had time to leave as great a mark upon him as the other prisoners; although his clothes were dirty and torn in ces, he seemed unbroken in spirit and body. His strong blue eyes moved from one lord to the next, causing some to shrink. Others gave a curt nod in greeting and acknowledgement, which Brand returned. A few had entirely different reactions; Ingmond stared with unbridled hate at the chained knight.


    Quill called for silence, and once it had been obtained, Konstans could pronounce the charges. Sir Adalbrand, you stand used of high treason and rted crimes. They are as follows, the dragonlord proimed. You sought an alliance with the king of Korndale in order to lead his armies against Middanhal, either to put him or yourself upon the throne. Mutterings erupted among the audience.


    Silence, Quill demanded.


    You gathered men to your personal guard as thanes, despite not having that privilege, Konstans continued. Lastly, you vited the Knights Codex and itsmand to act in a righteous manner against your enemies by poisoning them in order to conquer the city of Tothmor.


    There was a mour of voices upon hearing the final charge. Silence, Quill repeated, there must be order in the chamber. Proceed, my lord, he told Konstans.


    In my hand, I hold a letter from my reeve in Plenmont, Konstans told the assembly, holding it high. It proves the first usation as it recounts how the king of Korndale is seeking to strengthen his im upon the throne of Adalrik through marriage to Sir Adalbrands sister, Lady Arndis. A number of eyes turned towards the woman, who looked as perplexed as any. It further exins the source of this intelligence, proving it to be trustworthy. At thest word, Brand smiled.


    We will pause these proceedingster to allow any to investigate the letter, Quill dered. Continue, my lord.


    The second charge requires little exnation. When I came to arrest Sir Adalbrand, his men fought without fear of death to defend him rather than stand aside. Neither of them are Order soldiers. One is in fact a former thane of the jarl of Theodstan, and the other a former de of the queen of Hthiod. Both have shifted allegiance towards Sir Adalbrand, defending him in the manner of thanes. Even if we set aside the perversion of these thanes abandoning their former masters, Sir Adalbrand has usurped the privilege of the high nobility to name thanes. This is a direct threat against the Adalthing, Konstans imed. Brand scoffed in response.


    On with it, Hardmar demanded. Tell us about the poison!


    Konstans gave a grim smile. In order to weaken the defenders of Tothmor, Sir Adalbrand had the water supply poisoned. I have demanded of Sir William that he stands witness, but he has refused. This caused another wave of conversation to flood over the hall with many staring at the famous knight. For his part, William showed no emotion. I have letter again exining the events and Sir Adalbrands dishonourable actions, Konstans borated, pulling out another piece of paper from his clothing. It reveals the details of the assault upon Tothmor, exins how the garrison was too weak to fight back, and how the contaminated water had to be disposed of. The honourable Sir Vilmund has signed the letter as witness of its veracity in describing these events. Bitterughter ensued from Brand.


    We shall halt this trial for an hour, Quill announced with an eye towards the water clock that stood near the throne, to allow any that so desires to read the contents of the letters.


    ~~~~


    While Brand was allowed to read the missives as the first, the remaining people present gathered into small groups and hushed conversations. As the exception, Hardmar sat alone. His eyes swept over the assembly, noting how the noblemen were dispersed or with whom they gathered, or he gazed up at the balcony.


    Arndis stared at her brother. Would your testimony have changed anything? she asked William while looking ahead.


    Nothing I could say under holy oath would have helped Brand, the knight admitted quietly.


    Frustration danced across Arndis face before sheposed herself. I understand, she spoke tonelessly.


    Eleanor gave a shiver and ced her arm inside Williams. This is all so dreadful. Next to them, Theodwyn stood silent.


    Her brother was on the floor of the hall, surrounded by his margraves. Remarks were being exchanged along with worried looks, and they seemed most of all a group under siege.


    The southern lords were livelier, many of them engaged in discussions. More than one expressed satisfaction that the first of the rebels would soon face justice, and it was only a matter of time before Jarl Isarn himself followed his sons and brother to the scaffold. Some questioned Brands guilt; Jarl Ingmond brooked no disagreement in that respect and added that the axe was far too good and swift a fate.


    Jarl Vale, lord protector of the realm, was remarkably silent. The proceedings of the Adalthing were generally led by the Kings Quill and the dragonlord, and he had not interfered with this arrangement. While his vassals were conversing loudly around him, the jarl himself mostly stared at the water clock.


    His brother made up for this, being in high spirits. Both margraves andndgravesmended him for unmasking this treachery before it coulde to fruition, and the dragonlord received their praise with smiles and grace, even making jests.


    Quill had left the hall. He appeared again on the balcony, carrying on a quiet conversation with the high priest of the ckrobes. They made sure none could overhear the words exchanged; the only thing discernible was that the ckrobe shook his head slightly before the conversation ended.


    ~~~~


    As the hour drew to its close, Quill returned to the hall and resumed the proceedings. Brand was given the floor to defend himself, now that he had seen the proof against him. My lords, he began. You have heard the usations against me, and you have seen the evidence against me. Yet Lord Konstans has been far too kind. He is too humble a man, I assume, or perhaps he feared to tire this assembly by going into lengthy details. Allow me to purge my soul and confess all the reasons I stand in chains on this day.


    My first crime was to be born Adalbrand of House Arnling, atheling of Arn, atheling of Sigvard. My ancestry, proimed in my very name, gives these mighty lords cause to fear. He let his gaze move from Konstans to Hardmar before it swept over the rest of the assembly. Some seemed to listen; others met Brands attempt to defend himself with little regard. My next crime was leading an army across the Weolcans together with Sir Richard of Alwood and Jarl Theodoric of Theodstan. As he mentioned thetter name, Brand motioned towards its wearer. Theodoric did not seem pleased or proud.


    After that, in thepany of the same lords, I had the audacity to liberate Middanhal from Isenwald of Isarn. I continued by defeating Isenhart of Isarn upon the battlefield, and having not learned from my past mistakes, I finished my spree of transgressions by defeating Athelstan and Eumund of Isarn. In fact, each of the men whom you just condemned for high treason was only in chains because of me.


    And we did nothing? one of Vales margraves jeered, which several of his brethren agreed with.


    Ignoring the outburst, Brand continued. Given two thousand men and thepany of the esteemed Sir William, he spoke with a nce towards the knight on the balcony, who nodded in return, I marched to Hthiod to face an enemy ten times stronger. I conquered Tothmor, I conquered Polisals, I drove the ounders from the realm. I did all of these things because I am a knight of Adal, and that is my charge, the only charge here today that matters. I defend the Alliance of Adalmearc against all enemies, whether they be invaders or rebels.


    If letters may prove a viin, I am sure Lord Konstans could have the entire realm vilified within days, Brand remarked. No witnesses whose character and veracity may be assessed stand here today to prove these allegations against me. Allow me to fill that gap and bear witness myself. He cleared his throat. Any rank or position I have ever held has been given to me. Knight, lieutenant, captain, all have been earned. I have never sought to usurp the rightful position of another nor privileges I do not deserve. I have made no deals with foreign kings, only demanded their defence of the Seven Realms. I have gathered no men to me pledged in oaths, only in loyalty and willing service. I have in no enemy who surrendered or were too wounded to resist, only those who struck first against these realms.


    Brand raised his hands before him, showing the chains upon them. I am feared because of who I am, not because of what I have done. Consider this. You are all men of power, he impressed upon them, power greater than mine. One day you might find yourself standing where I stand. Would you wish to be convicted based on who you are or what you have done? He let his eyes move across the room onest time. I only ask that you judge me as you would wish to be judged. He fell silent.


    Finally, Hardmar sneered. Let us get this over with.


    Brand left the centre of the hall with the statue of Disfara, clearing the space for the lords to approach and pronounce their judgement. Ingmond went first along with his margraves. He dered Brand to be guilty of high treason and all other charges, and none of his men went against him. The first twelve voices to send Brand to the scaffold. It required thirty-five.


    Vale stepped forward as the next. He was ncing around the room, and his hand fumbled a bit as it tried to grab the foot of the statue. As Quill called for his vote, the jarl did not reply at first. His face was worried as he looked at Brand and the assembled noblemen. Whispers began to appear as Valerian dyed, and Quill called upon him again. Guilty, the jarl finally dered, returning to his brother and margraves. None of thetter went against their jarl. Twenty-nine voices against Brand.


    Thest jarl to voice his support was Theodstan, who mirrored his predecessor at the statue. Exhaling deeply, Theodoric swallowed and atst called out his choice. Innocent of all charges. As he turned around to walk back, his eyes crossed Konstans and afterwards Hardmar, making the jarl hurry back to his men. Had he dered as the others, the decision would have been made. Instead, people in the hall were calcting furiously. Six more members of the Adalthing had to lend their voice to a guilty verdict.


    Only thendgraves remained now; upon his ascension as heir to the realms, Hardmar had lost his membership as an atheling, and Brand would not be participating either, though it seemed doubtful he would have voted for his own guilt in any case. Absent those northernndgraves who were in revolt, eleven in all hade to the assembly; nine of these were from the south. One by one, the remaining noblemen were called forward to make their voice heard.


    Marcaster dered the prisoner guilty and sent Hardmar a nod, which the prince graciously reciprocated. The next two followed suit. The fourth hesitated briefly before announcing that he found the used innocent. As he returned to the edge of the hall, the other southerners shied away from him. The fifthndgrave followed his peers and proimed his verdict to be guilty, as did the sixth, reaching a tally of thirty-four, one shy of a majority. With a heavy expression, Brand looked up at his sister. Arndis attempted to smile, but failed.


    The seventhndgrave stepped forward and called out his judgement. When the word resonated around the hall, Brand staggered as if the doom pronounced upon him had physically fallen onto his shoulders. It did not matter what the remaining noblemen decided; Brand was found guilty of high treason.


    Once the counting finished, Quill began to speak, but he stuttered so, he had to try again several times. Adalbrand of House Arnling, he finally spoke with quaking voice, the Adalthing has spoken with one voice. You are found guilty of high treason, which may be punished by exile or death. Beyond that, you have forfeited your rank as knight. You shall be pronounced a knave and have your sword broken.


    Hardmar leaned back on his throne, satisfaction overflowing in his smile. Konstans stepped forward. Your sentence is execution by the axe. Remove the prisoner. On the balcony, there was suddenmotion; Arndis had copsed and would have fallen if not for the quick intervention by William. As the Hawks dragged him away, Brand stared across the hall to gaze at his sister; both the faces of the Arnling siblings were drained of blood.


    Once the condemned had been taken away, Hardmar made a motion to Konstans, who gave a quick nod. The prince wishes to address the assembly, he informed the noblemen.


    My lords, they are grim matters that summoned us here today, but justice has been served, and we may all find sce in that thought. We will not dy, but see justice carried out. The executions will begin tomorrow, spread over several days, to set asting example of what happens to those rebelling against the Crown, Hardmar dered. Hearing this, Arndis retreated from the balcony with hasty steps, leaving the chamber. The prisoners shall be executed in ascending order proportional to their crime. Elis tomorrow, Arnling the day after, and one man from Isarn each of the following days, the prince decided.


    As you say, my prince, Konstans acquiesced.


    Furthermore, the prince continued, not all is ill. I have an announcement to make in this assembly, dering the intentions of mine and another house. He paused, making sure all eyes were upon him. I am proud to announce the engagement between my sister, Lady Gunhild of House Hardling, to Lord Edward of Marcaster. Cheers rose among many of those listening; Valerian and Konstans remained silent, and neither looked pleased. While it is traditionally the head of the bridegrooms household who has the honour of making such an announcement, I thank Lord Marcaster for allowing me the joy of informing you all of the bond between our houses, soon to be made formal through my sister and his son.


    Marcaster took a small step towards Hardmar, separating himself from the crowd of his peers, and made a small bow. The honour remains mine to see my son wed to such an illustrious house as yours, and the joy felt by my prince is shared by me and all those of my house.


    Congrattory and celebratory cries were heard around the hall; Valerian on the other hand drew close to his brother. What is happening? he whispered. What of Valerie?


    We are being usurped, Konstans muttered darkly, staring at Marcaster. Hardmar wants thendgraves on his side to move against us, and Marcaster wants to rece us. He turned towards Quill and spoke again, raising his voice. Our business is concluded. You may end the assembly.


    Thew keeper had been standing dazed, but the dragonlords words pulled him out of it. The voice of the Adalthing has spoken and may now lie silent. Under the eyes of the dragon, the raven, the bull, the horse, the bear, the hart, and the eagle, I dere its word to bew. The Adalthing was over.


    Valerian turned to his brother again, speaking with a hushed tone of voice. What happened? I thought the prince had agreed to marrying Valerie?


    I am as surprised as you, Brother, Konstans confessed. He was supposed to announce the engagement.


    What will we do now?


    Do nothing, Konstans told him. I will handle this.


    What will you do?


    The dragonlord let out a deep breath. Tell the workmen to raise the scaffold. We will need it from tomorrow on.

 Chapter 88: When the Raven Calls

    Chapter 88: When the Raven Calls


    When the Raven Calls


    Middanhal


    As usual, Konstans sat in his study the following morning shortly after sunrise. Unusually, he was not upied with anything. He was not receiving visitors, reading missives, or writing his own; the small hourss on his desk stood still. By the wall was arger water clock, and the dragonlord continued to nce towards it while drumming his fingers on his desk.


    He was atst disturbed by his servant. That Red Hawk is here to see you, Eolf informed him.


    Send him in.


    Jerome marched inside the room and waited until Eolf had left. Apologies, milord, he spoke.


    You had no luck?


    No matter of luck would help, the Hawk imed. I considered every angle. Approaching from the library tower, lowering myself onto the roof and go through a window, sneaking through somehow. Nothing worked. Those thanes got every inch covered. I couldnt even get near.


    Konstans muttered a curse. I must devise a way.


    I cant see how anything can be done inside the Citadel.


    Not inside the Citadel, the nobleman mumbled to himself. Ignoring Jerome, he sat silent for a while.


    Milord? the mercenary cautiously asked after some time.


    I have a n, he finally said. I have a long and arduous task for you, but your payment shall be equal in measure.


    Im at your service.


    Eolf, Konstans called out, summoning his servant. Send a message to Prince Gerhard. Inform him that I request his presence immediately. Eolf bowed in response and swiftly left. Outside on the Temple square, several workmen were busy assembling a scaffold.


    ~~~~


    Holwyn slipped into the parlour outside Arndis chamber, prompting ukos to leap to his feet. He had his sword halfway drawn before he rxed. You should announce yourself, he chastised her.


    Just keeping you on your toes, she smiled. Is thedy here?


    I am, Arndis told her, appearing in the doorway of her room. Let us talk in here, she suggested, motioning for Holwyn to follow her. What can you tell me? she asked as soon as the door was shut.


    I have set it all in motion, Holwyn confided in her. Thanks to Lady Valerie, a carriage with the insignia of Vale will be ready to transport your brother to safety.


    Because a carriage belonging to Vale will not be questioned at the gate, Arndis realised.


    Precisely.


    Can Lady Valerie be trusted? Arndis questioned.


    She has as much at stake as you do, Holwyn imed.


    What happens next?


    Leave the rest to me. With your silver and some ham-fisted persuasion, I will see your brother free.


    Arndis let out a sigh of relief. When?


    Today. The Hawks will be busy keeping order at the Temple square, and most of the Citadels inhabitants will be present to see Lord Elis lose his head.


    Arndis gave a shudder. As long as it is not Brand. Thank you, she spoke with emphasis, grabbing hold of Holwyns hands. I owe you a debt that can never be repaid.


    Thank me when it is over, Holwyn smiled. I suggest you stay in your room until then. Do not give anything away.


    I will not move one foot, Arndis promised.


    ~~~~


    Berimund moved through the royal quarters, nodding at his men as he passed them. The captain of the kingthanes continued until the innermost room, which served as Hardmars bedchamber. The prince was being attended to by servants dressing him. Berimund stepped inside and stood waiting.


    Captain, Hardmar addressed him. The prince was looking into his mirror, admiring his appearance, and also using it to nce at the big man standing by the door.


    You summoned me, my prince, Berimund replied politely.


    I did. Two of my kingthanes need to be dismissed from service immediately, Hardmar told him, returning his attention to his attire. I am tempted tomand them incarcerated, but I have decided to be lenient.


    Dismissed? Berimund repeated. Are you referring to ric and Sandar?


    I am not aware of their names, the prince retorted with derision. They were my protectors the other day when I went to the library, where they defied me and refused to follow orders.


    That would be them, Berimund confirmed. They told me of the incident shortly afterwards.


    Well? Have they been thrown out in dishonour as they deserve? Stop fiddling, fool, and be done with it! Thest sentence was directed at a servant buckling the princes belt.


    My prince, the captain exined in patient voice, as neither of them have been derelict in their duties, brought shame to themselves, or in any way dishonoured their oath as thanes, I see no cause for that.


    Anger took hold of the princes expression, and the servants almost recoiled. He turned around to face the captain, having to bend his neck backwards to stare up at him. I gave them an explicitmand, and they refused to follow! How in Hels name is that not a vition of their oath?


    Assaulting the Kings Quill when he poses no threat would be a crime, Berimund spoke withposure. To attack him is to attack the Adalthing, which may not be done.


    He is a threat! He is a traitor like the rest of you! Hardmar grabbed a cup standing on a nearby drawer and threw it against the wall.


    If that is your belief, my prince, you may dismiss him and all of us from service once you be king. Berimund bowed his head in subservience.


    Hardmar stared at the big thane, breathing heavily. I will not forget this, he swore with a malicious look. Out of my way, he snapped a momentter. I have an execution to attend. The captain stepped aside, making a full bow as the prince marched past him.


    ~~~~


    From the dungeons, two Hawks dragged Elis up the stairs and outside, reaching the southern courtyard. Already, a crowd was lining up to see thest march of the condemned. As they passed the gate, the number of spectators increased tenfold. A path was kept clear along the Arnsweg by hundreds of Hawks, keeping the people at bay and providing a suppressing effect to the riotous mood that so easily could grip a crowd.


    Elis looked as pitiful as ever; to his filthy and ragged appearance, he added a sense of despair and despondence so strong, it surrounded him like a stench. He moved with lethargic steps, and the Hawks escorting him grumbled impatiently. They had been instructed not to hurry, allowing all plenty of time to witness the traitors slow march towards death.


    ~~~~


    The Citadel was nearly emptied for inhabitants courtside, giving it an eerie atmosphere of being abandoned; for something as important as the execution of a traitor, even servants were given leave of their duties to watch thew of the realm being upheld. Light-footed, Holwyn moved through the hallways with nary a sound; with nearly every Hawk on the streets to maintain order, she walked unseen across the fortress.


    Yet as she neared the dungeons, she was spotted. Hullo, Holwyn, a voice called out to her.


    Holwyn froze in her tracks. She was disguised as man, wearing pants and with her long hair tucked underneath a cap. She had just passed the doors to the various barracks upied by the Hawks; ahead of her was the door that led to the cells. With a resigned look towards the entrance ahead, she turned around. Hullo, Brother.


    Holebert looked at her with a regretful smile. The jarl says to return to our chambers and stay there until his return.


    How did he know?


    You had me recruit one of Lady Valeries servants to be our spy.


    The one who was enamoured by you because of the whole debacle with Isarn, Holwyn mentioned. She ratted me out?


    Funny, isnt it? She overheard your conversation and told me without realising your identity. I told the jarl, who figured out your scheme.


    Holwyn nced towards the door to the lower levels. You could say you came toote. Or that I knocked you out.


    Holebert shook his head. Unlike you, I know my ce. Our family has always served the jarls of Theodstan. I will not endanger that.


    This is the only chance I will get! she implored him. It will be toote soon.


    Why do you care? Holebert asked with a scrutinising gaze at his sister. This Adalbrand is nothing to us.


    He saved us all, Holwyn argued. Theodoric risked everything to warn the Order against Isarns treachery, and it would have been for naught if not for Adalbrand. It is not right to do nothing and let him be meat for the worms.


    Doing nothing may not be right, but its smart. Theres a hunt going on for traitors, and this cant be concealed, Holebert warned her. They will scour this ce for the culprit, and someone will talk. If not Lady Valerie or Lady Arndis, then the stable hand who prepared the carriage, or the guards at the gate who let it through, or some servant who noticed something. They will piece it together, our jarl will be next on the executioners block, and you will hang.


    You may be right, Holwyn admitted, hanging her head in defeat. One hand moved towards her pocket where her sapy.


    Dont even try, Holebert told her. He gestured with his head towards the upper levels. Move. You first.


    With a bitter look, Holwyn walked past her brother towards their chambers. Well have innocent blood on our hands, she said spitefully.


    At least our hands will still be attached to our wrists, he retorted, escorting her back to their quarters.


    ~~~~


    With spring arriving, the vendors had been returning to the Temple square, transforming it to a marketce once more and bringing trade with them. Much to the chagrin of the guilds, all of this had been temporarily halted, not only to make way for the scaffold raised in the centre of the square, but also to allow a throng of people to watch. Just south of where the executioner was to ply his trade, a tribune had been raised to allow the prince the perfect view of the square, with the Temple serving as the background to the gruesome spectacle about to unfold.


    Hardmar sat on a high chair in the middle of the tribune with the lord protector to his right and the dragonlord to his left. Seated on benches extending on either side were the noblemen of the Adalthing, many of them apanied by their wives and children. The absence of most of the northern lords meant that space was ample.


    Elis slow progress from the Citadel to the Temple square had the unintended consequence of making the high lords anddies wait in the cold weather without entertainment. Wine, Hardmarmanded, holding out his cup. A servant hurried to fill out. He drummed the fingers of his free hand on the armrest of his chair impatiently. Gods, will this ever begin? he questioned.


    There he is now, my prince, Valerian told him.


    Elis shuffled his way to the open space between the tribune and the scaffold. He looked around, seeing thousands of faces staring back at him. From princes and noblemen to paupers and nobodies, Elis had the attention of everybody. He stared up the stairs to where a hooded man awaited him, and it seemed he finally snapped out of the haze surrounding his mind. No! he yelled.


    His words were lost in the mour demanding his life. Whether for reasons of revenge, justice, or simply delight in watching the fall of those once high, none had pity on Elis. The Hawks grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him up the scaffold without hesitation. Thendgrave kicked and screamed, pleaded and begged, threatened and cursed, all to no avail. Finally, one of the Hawks punched him in the mouth to silence him.


    Quill, who had been standing behind the prince, stepped forward. George of Elis, you have been condemned to death, and the raven calls for you. You may speak your final words and hope the eagle shall hear.


    Spare me! Elis implored, staring at the tribune. Every face looking back was imcable and deaf to his pleas. Save me, he mumbled weakly to the soldiers standing by his side. With indifferent expressions, they pushed him to his knees and held him in ce, cing his head on the block. The executioner hefted his great axe in his hands for a few moments and took position, gazing at the dragonlord until he received the signal to continue. The prisoner continued to beg, struggling in vain to escape. As Konstans nodded, the axe fell swiftly, cleanly, and Elis spoke no more.

 Chapter 89: No Greater Honour

    Chapter 89: No Greater Honour


    No Greater Honour


    Middanhal


    The rest of the day following Elis execution passed with normalcy; yet to a few, the sun seemed to hasten across the sky, setting and rising again all too swiftly. In his lodgings, Brand could not see or mark the passage of time any other way than when meals were served to him; he only knew that night had passed and day hade when a guard opened his cell and pushed his morning meal to him. The sun had risen on hisst day.


    Brand picked up the bowl of porridge, stabbing the slush with his wooden spoon. Noise in the hallway made him look up abruptly, fixing his eyes on the door. The sound of the key being turned was heard, and the door swung open. It was not his escort to the scaffold, but his sister. He let the bowl fall to the ground and hurried to stand, catching her in an embrace; his chains allowed him just barely to close his arms around her waist.


    I tried, she told him, pressing her face against his neck; her voice revealed her to be a short step away from tears. I tried, everything I could think of. I spent all day yesterday trying to see the prince, the lord protector


    Be still, Sister, Brand told her gently, stroking her hair. I have no doubt you did.


    You were supposed to be far away from here, she stammered.


    Enough, enough, he chided her with a kind voice. It is all out of our hands now. Come now, you should be consoling me, he continued with a sad smile.


    She looked up at him. You are the only family I have. What am I to do without you?


    What you did all those years while I was away, he reminded her. Survive. You have the same strength as I do. That is my onlyfort in this hour. I need not fear for you after I am gone.


    She pressed herself against him again. I cannot bear to hear you say it!


    Of course you can, Sister. You are thest Arnling and more deserving to be named an atheling of Sigvard than anyone else in this realm. He pulled back a bit to look at her with a wry expression. Presentpany excluded.


    She gave a hough that sounded halfway betweenughing and crying. I pity other women who do not have the fortune of being your sister.


    I pity other men, especially those who would deny you anything. Now live your life free, Arndis, have children, and tell them my story. In this manner, I shall live forever.


    I shall name my first son Adalbrand. And the next two or three, she added, prompting the familiar sound choked betweenughter and tears from him.


    It is time. Neither of the siblings had noticed that a guard had appeared in the doorway.


    It cannot be time already! Arndis eximed fiercely. It is still morning!


    They want it over with faster. It took too long yesterday, the guard exined with indifference.


    Farewell, Sister, Brand told her, embracing her one more time. Now or in an hour, it will not change anything. Let me leave lest I lose my courage.


    Arndis bit her lip. Farewell, Brother, she finally spoke. I will never forget you.


    You have to leave now, mdy, the Hawk told her brusquely.


    Brand released her from his grasp, and she stepped away. At the door, she turned to look upon him onest time. They each bowed their head towards the other, silence filling the space between them; then she was gone.


    ~~~~


    The march from the dungeons went swifter than yesterdays procession. Brand moved at a steady pace, walking tall. The reaction from the crowd upon seeing him was ambivalent. Some shouted disparaging remarks as could be expected, but they were few in number. Some cried out in disbelief or despair; most seemed dumbstruck, unable to understand that the man hailed as hero and champion by every town crier was about to meet the executioner.


    By the Temple square, everyone was waiting for his arrival. Princes, jarls,ndgraves and margraves, wives, children, thanes and favoured servants, all of them sat on chairs or the benches on the elevated tribune. Arndis arrived as thest, having gone against the advice of her friends to stay away. ukos and Geberic nked her, trying to push their way forward, but the nobility and their retinue saw no reason in yielding space to the sister of a disgraced knight and traitor.


    Berimund, his eyes constantly surveying the crowd for trouble, took note and muttered a fewmands to some of his men. Swiftly, they ensured room was made for Arndis, allowing her full visibility of the square.


    By the prince stood Quill as yesterday, ready to y his part. Egil did not apany him for this; his master had deemed it unnecessary that the apprentice learned this lesson already.


    In the crowd were Matthew, Nichs, and Quentin. Thetter two were armed with bows and Matthew had his sword, but they could not even reach the edge of the throng held back by scores of Hawks. Instead, they were perched upon the stairs of the Temple, giving them an excellent vantage point. With them was Troy; the bard stood ready to witness the final verse in his song of the Dragonheart.


    ~~~~


    Reaching the open space between the tribune and the scaffold, the Hawks grabbed hold of Brands shoulders to make him stop and force him on his knees before the prince. Thetter rose from his chair and walked to the edge of the elevated tform, making him visible to most. In his hands, he held a sheathed sword.


    Adalbrand of House Arnling, you are an oath breaker, Hardmar dered in a loud voice. He pulled the sword from its scabbard; if standing close, it was possible to see that the de had been partly filed through. The prince took hold of the sword in each end with gloved hands and broke the de against his knee. Raising the pieces into the air, he threw them onto the ground in front of Brand. Thus, your honour is broken, and I pronounce you a knave for all to know. The prince returned to his seat. Proceed, hemanded.


    The Hawks pulled Brand up to stand on his feet and pushed him towards the scaffold. With a sneer, Brand jerked his shoulders away from his guards, walking on his own up the stairs. Once there, he turned to face the tribune again.


    Quill stepped forward. Adalbrand of House Arnling, you have been condemned to death, and the raven calls for you. His voice was hoarse. You may speak your final words and hope the eagle shall hear.


    Brand gazed upon the gathering of nobles, who hade to witness his death. Last I came to this city, it was to save you all from a tyrant. You chose another to be your master, and whatever fate befalls you, it is well deserved. Now witness how thest atheling of Sigvard meets his fate.


    With those words, he willingly turned and knelt by the block. The executioner hefted his sharp axe, waiting for the signal.


    Every conceivable expression was found among the many faces of the spectators. The prince showed eagerness. The lord protector was uneasy, the dragonlord determined. Tears flowed freely from Arndis. Theodoric looked away, whereas Ingmond stared intensely. Yet the strongest reaction to this scenery came from Berimund, captain of the kingthanes. He balled his hands into fists, his eyes darting from the prince to the prisoner. No, he muttered. No. As Brand ced his head upon the blood-soaked stone, the bear-like man leapt down from the tribune and charged the scaffold.


    The morbid tranquillity of the square was shattered. Shouts arose from every direction, contributing to the chaos that now ensued. Brand rose to his feet to see what was happening. The executioner yelled for the soldiers to grab the prisoner, but both were struck by the confusion of the moment. As they noticed Berimund, they attempted to block his path and draw their swords in defence; they had as much luck as they would have withstanding the onught of a raging bull.


    Knocking the Hawks off their feet, Berimund grabbed the executioner and tossed him over the side of the scaffold. Follow me, he told Brand, releasing his battle-axe from the leather straps on his back.


    The kingthane jumped down from the tform. Troubled by the chains on his wrists, Brand followed suit with less grace. Berimund was already running towards the edge of the crowd where the Hawks were keeping the line back and maintaining order. They were suddenly caught between the constant push and pull of the mob on one side and a nearly seven foot tall warrior furiously charging them.


    Using his axe as a blunt instrument, Berimund struck down several Hawks. Run! he shouted at Brand, who wasted no time passing through the gap in the line and disappearing into the crowd.


    ~~~~


    As yesterday, most inhabitants at the Citadel were in the city for the execution, including the Hawks. Two remained as usual in the dungeons, keeping watch of the remaining prisoners. They sat casually around the table in the guardroom, helmets on the table next to cards and cups of ale. Engaged in idle talk, neither guard took much notice when a third Hawk walked down the stairs, holding a uniform; only when they noticed that behind came Gerhard, prince of the realm, did they immediately stand to attention.


    Be at ease, boys, the third Hawk told them, throwing the uniform on the table. The prince wants to speak to Isenwald. Someone lock it open.


    At once, one of the guards acquiesced, fetching the keys. He unlocked the corridor first and stepped inside to unlock the cell as well. Gerhard and his escort followed after.


    Momentster, the third Hawk returned to the guardroom. Come take a look at this, he said to the remaining guard, motioning towards the corridor.


    Whats going on? Thest guard moved towards the third Hawk; passing by, he was struck in the back of the head by a sap. Removing his helmet, the other Hawk wiped the sweat from his brow and revealed himself to be Jerome.


    I just didnt want to drag you that far, he admitted to the unconscious man and bowed down to grab him by the arms. He pulled him into the hallway and further into Isenwalds cell, who was having his chains unlocked by Gerhard.


    What  is going  on? Isenwald asked perplexed.


    Jerome dumped the second guard next to the first inside the cell. What does it look like?


    Gerhard finally managed to get the chains open. This is a rescue. I will take you to your father. You may thank meter.


    Muchter, Jerome stressed. Time is not on our side.


    What  of my uncle and brother? asked Isenwald.


    There is no time, Jerome urged. We need to move now!


    I am not going anywhere, Isenwald dered with a slow, but steady voice, unless they areing too.


    Gerhards eyes darted between the two other men. This was not part of the n, he mumbled.


    Would you rather die in here? Jerome practically yelled at him.


    Yes, Isenwald dered with defiance.


    How about I knock you down, same as them, Jerome threatened with a gesture at the unconscious Hawks. Ill throw you on a cart and be done with it!


    When we reach my father, I will tell him you left his son and brother behind to die, Isenwald countered.


    What should we do? the prince asked confused, staring at Jerome.


    Hel take me, the Hawk swore. Toote to back out now. Fine! Strip these men of their surcoats. We need two more disguises, he instructed the others and hurried away with the keys. Standing in the guardroom, he stared at the many doors leading down the other corridors. With a vulgar curse, he chose one door, unlocked it, and walked past each cell asking the prisoners for their names.


    You do not know? Ulfrik, once captain of Jarl Isarns thanes, jeered at him.


    You can stay and rot, Jerome spat, continuing to the next. Who are you?


    Ernulf, thane to Jarl Isenhart of Isarn.


    I dont need the full story. You?


    Eumund of Isarn. What is it to you?


    Its your lucky day, Jerome informed him, unlocking the door quickly. Youre going home.


    Eumund frowned in disbelief. What is this?


    Youd think people would be more grateful to be rescued from certain death, the Hawk muttered, opening his chains. Go to the guardroom and put on the uniform on the table. Hurry!


    While Eumund did as instructed, Jerome continued his search down the other corridors. This time, he did not call any names but simply cast a quick nce at the prisoner inside.


    After two false searches, he came upon his prey at least. Athelstan of Isarn, here you are. Jerome did as before, freeing the chained man within moments.


    Athelstan stretched his arms. I am being freed?


    Finally, someone who understands. Follow me, Jeromemanded. They returned to the guardroom and found Gerhard, Isenwald, and Eumund there, thetter two wearing Hawk surcoats. Isenwald threw the third one to his uncle, who put it on swiftly. Get those helmets on, Jerome told them. If I know Athelstans face, so will everyone else in this castle.


    The men of Isarn quicklyplied. What about our thanes? asked Athelstan. Should we not rescue them as well?


    Bloody Hel, no! Jerome yelled, locking the various corridor doors. We are leaving now!


    I agree, Isenwald dered with a cold voice. You  do not know what they  did, but Fathers thanes  deserve to remain here. His brother and uncle stared in surprise at Isenwald, but neither objected.


    Lead the way, Athelstan told Jerome.


    Four Hawks and one prince now made their way through the Citadel with speed. Courtside, they barely encountered any. Once they reached the Order side of the fortress, traffic increased; apart from the asional Order soldiers, there were also scribes, servants, and others employed in its service, conducting their duties as any other day. If any of them wondered at Gerhards presence or why he was being escorted by four Hawks, only three of whom had helmets, none saw it fit to ask. The small group made it to the northern courtyard without difficulty.


    Its southern counterpart and the Arnsweg beyond was filled with people to watch Brandsst march, blocking any attempt to swiftly traverse the city by that route. Inparison, the Order courtyard to the north was rtively empty. Unusually, a carriage bearing the insignia of House Hardling stood with a full span of horses, yet no driver. This raised a few eyebrows from those passing by, as the carriages of the nobility were generally restricted to the southern side. Yet as before, none questioned the actions of a prince.


    Everyone inside, Jeromemanded. And for gods sake, keep those helmets on and faces hidden!


    The other four did as told, entering the carriage with speed. Jerome climbed onto the drivers seat, grabbing hold of the reins and setting the horses into motion.


    The path from the Order courtyard to the northern gate was short, allowing for the Citadel to quickly reinforce the walls. Soon, the carriage approached Woolgate. Inside, three Hawks and one prince sat; various tells betrayed their anxiety. Athelstans leg was restless, Eumund was digging his nails into his skin, and Gerhard sat with open mouth, breathing heavily. Isenwald alone seemed inplete control of himself, appearing calm.


    In the end, it did not matter; the Order soldiers manning the gate saw no reason to even hail the carriage or question it in any way. They simply cleared the passage and allowed it to pass through. An hour after Gerhard and Jerome had appeared in the dungeons, they had escaped from Middanhal.


    ~~~~


    While the carriage was making speed towards Silfrisarn in the north, Berimund was fighting on the Temple square. The Hawks had attempted to follow Brand into the crowd, but they had lost sight of him immediately, and searching the mass of people was impossible; the situation had developed intoplete chaos. The only thing left for the Hawks to achieve was defeating the captain of the kingthanes.


    None of the Hawks had his prowess in battle, but they were numerous, and Berimund used only the blunt end of his axe shaft or the t side of the head. When he struck someone down, they got up again, making it inevitable that he would lose; his only gain was buying time.


    Finally, one of the Hawks pierced Berimunds foot with his spear, and the thane lost his bnce with a howl. At once, the Hawks swarmed over him, knocking him to the ground and taking hold of his weapon. He attempted to wrestle free with his great strength, but it was in vain; in the end, he yielded and could resist no more.


    The Hawks dragged him to the front of the tribune; unable to stand, Berimund had to be held up. Hardmar rose and approached his thane with rage infused in every step, every gesture, every motion that ran across his face. You have betrayed me, he spoke with unhinged fury. Dogs shall eat your corpse! You will rot in Hel for eternity!


    As you say, my prince, Berimund replied, remarkably calm.


    You have broken your oath, you have forsaken your honour, and now you shall die, Hardmar stated with utter contempt.


    So be it. There is no greater honour for a thane than to die for his lord, Berimund dered with a strong voice. He found Arndis in the crowd and bowed his head to her.


    Take his head! I want it on a spike! Hardmar spat enraged.


    The Hawks renewed their hold on Berimund and followed the familiar route up the stairs, cing his head on the block. The kingthane gave no resistance; he knelt cidly and did not flinch even when the axe severed his head from his shoulders.

 Chapter 90: Descent

    Chapter 90: Descent


    Fleeing for his life, Brand ran north as the only direction avable to him. Pushing his way through the throng of people, he reached the other edge and found himself on the abandoned Arnsweg. It was evident he had to remove himself from the streets and find shelter. Without hesitation and still in chains, Brand steered towards the Temple.


    He would end up straight in the arms of the Hawks if he attempted to reach the main entrance, but fortunately for him, the Temple had many smaller entrances dotted around theplex. They could only be opened from the inside, though. Reaching the closest one, Brand hammered his hands against the wood. Refuge! he yelled. Refuge!


    He continued his panicked blows, staring over his shoulder. The Hawks were stillbing the crowd, searching scattered in every direction, and none were in sight for now.


    At length, the door was opened by a ck-robed acolyte. Whats going on here?


    Refuge! Brand eximed hoarsely.


    The ckrobe widened his eyes, staring at Brand in chains. Holy  The acolyte interrupted himself. Come in!


    Brand hurried inside, and the door was shut behind him. Thank you, Brother.


    Its my duty, the ckrobe replied, scratching his head. To be honest, Ive never been in this situation before. I dont know what happens now. You haventmitted a crime against the gods, have you? I am not supposed to give you sanctuary in that case.


    You have my word, I have done nothing of the sort, Brand promised.


    Thats good, the acolyte replied relieved. Ill take you to Brother Eadric. Hell know what to do.


    The ckrobe turned and began walking deeper into theplex, followed by Brand.


    On their path, they came across several other robes of various colours, all of whom stared at Brands ragged appearance and chains; even without recognising who he was, his status was obvious. Setting a brisk pace, the acolyte wove in and out of corridors, finally going through a door to enter arge room, arranged like a study.


    Yes? asked the man sitting by one of the desks at work, keeping his focus on what he was reading. The patterned hem on his ck robe marked him as the local high priest of his colour; since the locale happened to be the great Temple at Middanhal, it also marked him as the high priest for the Order of the Dragon in all the Seven Realms and beyond.


    Brother Eadric, this man seeks refuge in the Temple, the acolyte exined.


    The high priest looked up and turned his head to see Brand standing behind the ckrobe in the doorway. By all that is holy  enter, quickly! Close the door! Brand hastened to do as instructed. Were you seening here?


    None saw me enter the Temple, I believe, the escaped prisoner replied.


    Did anyone see you before you reached my chamber?


    Some of the priests, yes.


    We must act quickly, Eadric considered. You, he said directed at the acolyte. Find the Highfather and inform him he is needed here at once. I will instruct the Temrs to close the Temple. Wait here, he told Brand, and the two priests left in haste.


    ~~~~


    Left alone, Brand noticed a pitcher of ale. Grabbing it with both hands, he drank greedily; his chains and eagerness left as much spilled as imbibed, but he sat the pitcher down with a satisfied sound. Shortly after, Eadric returned. I see you have quenched your thirst, the high priest remarked. The Temrs are closing every exit. That should buy us some time before your presence here is revealed.


    I am grateful, Brand said earnestly. I was worried you might hand me over.


    The thought crossed my mind, Eadric admitted unsentimentally. This Temple does not meddle in politics. But the Highfather explicitly tasked me to find some way to save you from the executioners block. It seems where I failed, the gods stepped in.


    He did? Brand asked with interest. The Highfather?


    Yes, but you will have to ask him why. He did not tell me.


    Brands eyes grew distant as he digested this knowledge. His attention snapped back as the door opened and an old man in grey robes entered. Adalbrand, son of Arngrim. I am surprised, which is a sign of how weak my faith is. The Highfather, leader of all the religious orders of Adalmearc, smiled broadly. Sit. You must be weary. While Brand sat down, the old priest turned towards Eadric. Has the Temple been sealed?


    It has, so we are safe for now. But eventually they will connect Lord Adalbrands disappearance with the closing of the Temple and guess his location. What will we do if they demand he is delivered to them?


    Brand stared back and forth at the two priests. We will ensure he is long gone before that happens, Septimus dered. If need be, he can be hidden at one of our shrines in the city.


    With respect, Holy One, Brand spoke carefully, I am well-known. Sooner orter, I will be discovered and handed over to my enemies. I must flee the city.


    Getting you around the city is not a difficult task for my ckrobes, Eadric imed, but both gates will be shut and under heavy guard. Same with the outer walls. I cannot guarantee we can get you outside the city without risking discovery.


    Wait, Brand asked of them, wait. Let me think.


    You have until nightfall, Eadric remarked, then we cannot wait any longer.


    I have an idea, Brand told them. I will need a message sent to Captain Theobald at once, and we must hope he is amenable to my plea.


    It is risky, Eadric spoke with doubt. We may be able to put some pressure on the good captain, but if he resists, our involvement is revealed. He looked at Septimus.


    Do as he asks, thettermanded.


    Very well. A spoken message, Eadric specified. Nothing in writing.


    Understood. I need my men to be informed as well, Brand requested. I shall require their help once beyond the city if I am to avoid capture.


    Eadric nodded. We can locate them.


    I need you to take me to the northern wall. Tonight, Brand continued.


    That can be done, Eadric considered. We will disguise you as ay brother. Anyone who sees you will assume you are making a nightly visit to a patient.


    Excellent. I will need at least forty feet of rope, Brand mentioned, and a weapon.


    Your men can bring you one, the ckrobe told him.


    I may have to fight before that. I need a sword as soon as I leave this Temple, the former knight dered.


    Any weapon in this ce is sanctified to divine service. Eadric shook his head. The only swords here are those of the Temrs, and only they may wield them.


    I will find a weapon for you, the Highfather suddenly dered. The other two men looked at him with surprise. Prepare your messages and have them sent. Time is of the essence. Have his chains removed after that, Septimus instructed Eadric. Afterwards, seek me out in the Hall of Holies, he finally told Brand. Both the ckrobe and the prisoner nodded inpliance.


    ~~~~


    A whileter, Brand appeared in the Hall of Holies without manacles, but wearing a clean linen tunic instead. The sacred space was empty save for Septimus. It gave the usually bustling hall a strange atmosphere; the statues of the gods lining the walls seemed to loom over the interior.


    Come here, the priestmanded Brand. He was standing in front of the enormous wall painting that was opposite the main entrance, depicting Rihimil in battle with the Dark Serpent. Just below was the altar dedicated to the Alfather, the only one of its kind. It was made from marble stone, a single rock hewn into shape. The sides depicted battles long forgotten, where tall and terrible warriors with eerie eyes fought. The top side waspletely smooth, except for the centre, where two hands rose in prayer.


    You must swear upon this altar to never reveal what I am about to tell you, Septimus demanded of Brand.


    The young man opened his eyes in wonder, but extended his hand to grasp its marble counterpart. I swear by this holy altar never to reveal what you will tell me now.


    Septimus gave a small nod. Good. Let us fetch your weapon.


    He led Brand out of the Temple hall and into theplex. After another journey through its winding passages, they reached the Highfathers personal chamber, about as small and sparse as the cell that Brand had upied until recently. Bolt the door, he told Brand, who did so. Push the bed away, he instructed next, and with a confused look, Brandplied. The priest took a deep breath and bent down, grabbing the rug to pull it aside. Underneath, a hatch was revealed. As Brand watched with incredulity, Septimus removed his ne bearing the symbol of his office and used it as a key to unlock the hatch. Open it. While Brand pulled the hatch open, the priest deftly lit a candle on the nearby drawer and took out a second, cing it inside his robe. Follow me.


    A dark and winding staircase revealed itself in the floor. Holding the candle, Septimus descended, followed by his youngpanion. The steps, hewn into the rock, were indented where they ced their feet, the sign of many centuries of use. Strange symbols were carved into the walls on either side of them. They resembled the figures upon the altar and seemed to tell a story of endless war. The same warriors, taller and thinner than men should be and with empty eyes, wielding swords of strange make.


    What is this ce? Brand breathed. The candle cast long shadows, flickering to illuminate the carvings before thrusting them into shadows again in an endless cycle.


    You will have many questions, and I have no answers. Nothing is known for certain, Septimus replied.


    What is depicted upon these walls?


    My best guess, the Great War.


    That was a thousand years ago, Brand pointed out.


    Almost eleven hundred, Septimus corrected him.


    This is older than the Temple, he considered, letting his fingers trace the carved figures as they continued their descent. How deep are we going?


    Until the roots of the mountains, Septimus answered, and they continued in silence.


    Time seemed to dissipate in such surroundings, and only the slow decay of the candle gave any indication of how long they had walked. Finally, when their light source neared the end of its life, the steps no longer led further down, and soon after they disappeared entirely as the floor became t and even. They walked a little distance longer and turned a corner in the tunnel. Immediately after, Septimus stopped.


    The passage expanded into a vaulted cave. With amazement in his eyes, Brand stared at an ashen tree that grew in the middle of the naturally formed chamber. How is this possible? he marvelled. Without light or water, rising from the rock?


    I do not know, the priest admitted. I only know that at times, the leaves be rustled as if touched by wind in a distantnd. Do not touch! he added sharply as he saw Brand stepping forward and extending his hand towards the branches. This ce is sacred beyond what mortal minds may understand. We may not approach further.


    Brand stopped, letting his hand fall down. What lies beyond the tree?


    In the darkness with such weak light, it was near impossible to see. My eyes are too old to see it anymore, but I saw it when I first came to this ce. It is a door without handle or lock or bolt. Where it leads, I do not know.


    Brand stared at the tree once more in wonder. This is why the surcoats of the Temrs bear a tree, he realised.


    Septimus nodded with a faint smile. They are not aware of the reason themselves, but I believe so. This tree is the reason why the Temple exists. It is my holy charge and that of my predecessors to protect it at all costs. The Temple must be never be vited, this secret must never be revealed. Do you understand?


    Yes, Holy One, though I do not see who would have reason to wish it harm. Brand nced at the priest briefly but quickly returned his gaze to the tree again.


    The ounders, among others, Septimus muttered darkly, and this gained him Brands attention again.


    What do they know of this ce?


    Little more than us, I wager, but enough. It is why they have waged war against us all these years. To them, there has never been any peace between our realms and theirs. Only a temporary cessation of hostilities. Septimus grabbed Brands arm. Do you understand?


    I do. Brand stared once more at the green-leaved ash. We cannot allow any to defile this ce.


    Good. Now, the reason we came. Septimus turned to face the exit. Next to it, leaning against the cave wall, was a sheathed sword. The priest reached out to take hold of it with his free hand. I believe this sword was ced here to ensure a weapon was always at hand to defend the antechamber. Perhaps ced here before the Temple was built. Since that has never been necessary, I lend it to you.


    Brand received the scabbard with a sceptical look. I hope you oiled it, he remarked dryly.


    That is not needed. Draw the sword, but only an inch or two.


    Perplexed, Brand inspected the sword. The hilt wasid with gold, a priceless emerald sat in the pommel, and runes were carved into the cross-guard. Even Dwarven-forged Nordsteel will lose its edge unless kept, Brand muttered, grasping the hilt and slowly sliding the sword out. It left the scabbard silently and revealed the pattern of waves upon the de. Sea-steel!


    That sword will never break or dull, Septimus dered. To wield it is a great responsibility. Do not draw it in anger, the priestmanded, or tomit an evil act. Never sully its de.


    I shall not, Brand promised.


    When you have no further need of it, you must return it to me.


    I shall.


    Good, Septimus nodded. He took the spare candle from his robe and used the dying mes of its predecessor to light it. Let us return.


    ~~~~


    They made the ascent in silence, and arranged the furniture in Septimus chamber to hide the hatch. There is one more thing, the priest told Brand. I need something. Meet me in the Hall of Holies. They separated, and Brand returned to the ornate hall. A few acolytes were cleaning and removing offerings from the various altars and gave him little attention. He crossed the room to reach the statue of Rihimil and knelt by its altar.


    Thank you, he whispered. I swear each year on this day, on Rihimils Day, I will give offerings in praise of your grace towards me. He leaned forward, letting his brow touch the edge of the cool stone.


    Rising again, he idled around for a little while until the Highfather returned, carrying a small jar and a piece of cloth. Leave us, thettermanded, and the acolytes cleared the room without hesitation. Over here, he told Brand, nodding towards the altar for the Alfather. Kneel. Brand did as instructed, kneeling in front of the priest, who opened his jar. The scent of oil faintly spread, and Septimus let it pour slowly over Brands hair until it streamed down his face.


    In Sigvards name, I anoint you.


    Born of the dragon are you.


    Our prayer upon you.


    The Lord of Dragons keep you.


    By this altar and this blood,


    The Lord of All bears witness.


    Setting the jar aside, Septimus took the knife in his belt and pricked his finger. As drops of blood appeared, he ced them upon Brands brow and finished bestowing the blessing of Sigvard upon him. Rise, he told Brand and gave him the cloth to clean his face. The priest took a deep breath. I have done all I can to aid you now. Godfrey can ask no more.


    As his face appeared from behind the cloth, Brand stared at the priest in surprise. Godfrey? The spy I met in Hthiod? He is involved in all of this?


    That sounds like him, Septimus assented with a wry smile. He believes you have the skill to push the ounders back. For his sake, I have lent you all the aid I can think of. I hope he is right.


    He is, Brand dered firmly, cing one hand upon the hilt by his side.


    In that case, let us see to your escape.


    ~~~~


    Once night held sway, ay brother and a ckrobe left the Temple through one of its discreet doors. On asion, they encountered patrols of Red Hawks, but these were scarce; most of the Hawks were scouring Lowtown under the assumption that Brand would find it easiest to hide there. Furthermore, the ckrobe knew the paths to take that kept them in the shadows, and stealth seemed natural to him. They passed between the mansions of the nobility, moving along walls and through narrow streets. At one point, the priest knocked on a door and was granted passage through the herb garden of a public house with none of the patrons inside any wiser.


    Their route was doubled in length, but eventually they stood underneath the imposing northern walls, its towers rising up against the night sky. This is where I was told to bring you, the ckrobe spoke quietly to they brother.


    He gave a slight nod. That is all I need.


    The priest inclined his head. Dragons wing upon you, he spoke in farewell and quickly made the sign of the seven-pointed star before disappearing. They brother turned to face the walls thaty between him and northern Adalrik.


    Many towers dotted the outer fortifications, adding to their near impregnable strength. Even though the garrison was stillcking in numbers, the northern walls were fully manned, mindful of the rebels in Isarn. Some of the soldiers on duty stood watch upon the towers themselves, gazing out at the open ins, others patrolled along the wall, and the remainder huddled together inside for warmth.


    In the tower rooms, the soldiers passed the time in the same ways as everywhere else, using cards, dice, and drink; if someone was blessed with a singing voice or knew how to y an instrument small enough to carry around in a pocket, they could often shorten the hours of sentinel duty and receive the gratitude of their peers for a performance.


    Inside one of the many watch posts, one such urrence had just taken ce; one of the Order soldiers on duty had yed a piece on his short flute and received apuse for it. He gave a small bow, smiling as he put his instrument away.


    I didnt realise you had wall duty tonight, one of the others told him. Someone told me you yed for them while having the Citadel watch.


    I did, the flute-ying soldier replied. I got assigned to this post just today.


    The kitchen must have poisoned a whole lot again, another remarked coarsely. I was only sent here today as well.


    Maybe the knight knows something, a third considered. Sir Fionn, who died and forced us to spend the night here?


    Please say it was a painful death, full of writhing pain.


    The kitchens cooking will usually do that.


    I know as much as you worthless bastards, the knight grunted from a chair in the corner, which is to say, absolutely nothing. He cut a piece from the apple in his hand and ate it demonstratively loud.


    What I dont get is why they assigned a knight to this tower, someone contemted with a sly expression. They dont even have that at the gatehouse. Is it because we are so much trouble we need to be watched, or is someone punishing the good knight in our midst?


    Shut your pie hole, Fionn mumbled with bits of apple flying out of his own opening.


    There was a knock on the door, which caused everyone inside to exchange nces. The guard was not to change for many hours, and everyone knew how Isarn had begun its rebellion by assaulting the garrison from inside the city, ughtering their Order brethren upon the walls. Instinctively, everyone reached for their weapon.


    Well, I doubt they would knock first if they were here to fight, Fionn dered, though he still set his knife and fruit aside to ce his right hand on his sword hilt. Open the door.


    One of the soldiers did while the others watched intently. Its just ay brother, he told the others, causing tension to reduce. You got the wrong ce, Brother, we have no wounded here, he told the man at the door.


    On the contrary, Faramod, I believe this is the right ce, they brother replied.


    The soldier took a step back with an astonished look. You know me?


    The robed man followed, entering the tower. I know you all. He took down his hood and revealed himself to be Brand.


    Captain! many of them eximed, rushing forward to get a better look and nearly stumbling over one another.


    Its really you!


    Lieutenant, you remember me?


    Sir, youre alive!


    Brand raised his hands tomand silence. I am for now. I need your help to escape the city and certain death. I ce my life in your hands.


    The soldiers exchanged looks, and eyes darted between Brand and Fionn. The knight had stayed back, but now he sent Brand a scrutinising gaze. So that is why I was sent here. All of us fought with you, he realised. Theobald is in on this, that old fox. A smile slowly spread across his face. You always had a good n. How do you intend to get across the wall?


    Brand patted his own stomach. I have forty feet of good rope under this robe.


    Let us get to it, Fionn dered. Faramod, close the door and keep watch here. You durds are with me. He motioned towards several of the others and went for the stairs.


    Quickly, the small group ascended the tower, reaching its top floor with the doors leading to the walls. A momentter, they could gaze down upon the ground below. Bit of a drop, someone mumbled.


    You, keep watch there. You, there, Fionn swiftlymanded with a few gestures, sending men in either direction down the fortifications where other soldiers might appear. Rope, Sir Adalbrand?


    Brand pulled his clothing up to reveal that many feet of rope was tied around his stomach, giving him the appearance of a portlyy brother. The soldiers grinned at the sight and untied the twine. Several of them took hold of one end. Standing between that and the inner wall, space was cramped but sufficient for their purpose. Brand took hold of the rope, tied it around himself, and looked at the men. Do not drop me, he spoke, half in jest, half in earnest.


    We always trusted you to lead us intobat and out again, someone remarked. Now its your turn to trust us.


    I always did, Brand told them emphatically. I knew if I came here tonight, you would not fail me. Farewell, good men, and know you have my gratitude.


    Time is sparse, Fionn muttered brusquely. With a nod in acknowledgement, Brand grabbed the rope and jumped up between the crions. His next step took him outside the wall.


    The rope tightened with the added strain of his body weight, and the men jerked forward and backward in response. Finding his footing against the stonework, Brand pulled at the rope to signal that they should lower him down.


    Fionn looked over the edge, watching Brands slow descent. This is more nerve-wrecking than any battle, the knight admitted with a grumble. I should have told him not to look down.


    Even without the knights sage advice, Brand continued. The soldiers began toin and move restlessly while grasping the rope, as much as their confined position allowed. How much further, sir?


    We are only halfway, Fionn told them. Hold on, you weaklings!


    With respect, sir, you could help.


    The rope is not long enough for any more to grab, the knight exined with regret. Damn! he suddenly added.


    What? several eximed.


    I thought the rope was unravelling. He is fine, he is fine.


    Sir, is what we are doing treason?


    A bitte to ask that question if it bothers you, someone else pointed out.


    If your arms hurt, it is because you spend your energy talking, Fionn told them in his brusque manner. Be quiet!


    There was some timid grumbling, but they did as the knightmanded. Suddenly the weight disappeared from the rope, and the soldiers tumbled backwards into the inner wall. Did the ropee undone?


    He did not fall, Fionn reassured the soldiers. He reached the ground. He is already away.


    What a night! someone eximed as they began pulling up the rope.


    Indeed, the knight assented. Of course, if any of you breathe a word of this to anyone, even your wives or sweethearts, I will feed you your own bowels.


    ~~~~


    A few miles north of Middanhal, a small band of men sat gathered under a great oak. A few of them wore Order surcoats, some wore tunics without distinct markings, and one was armed only with a lute. The tree stood in solitude by the road, making it distinct and an obvious meeting spot. Some of the men were constantly scouting, though the darkness of the night allowed for little visibility. The others, especially the youngest, sat huddled to keep warm.


    Maybe we should use that lute for firewood, Matthew jested.


    Troy sent him an indignant look. Do you also butcher small children for meat?


    To be fair, firewood is better use for that instrument than anything you can do with it, Nichs jested, earning him the same scornful look as Matthew.


    Thats harsh. Troy is getting pretty good, Quentin imed, and now it was his turn to receive various looks.


    Quentin said something nice about someone, Matthew stammered with open mouth.


    Thats as glowing a rmendation as youll ever get, Nichs grinned.


    Thats sure to get me entrance at every castle between here and Dvaros, Troy mused.


    Im surprised youvee along, Quentin said with a nce towards Nichs. I didnt think that girl of yours would let you out of Lowtown.


    Ellen understands, Nichs replied serenely. Shes a reasonable woman.


    Or shes already tired of you, Quentin jeered.


    Nichs widened his eyes in fear. You think so?


    Will you bleeding morons shut your ptraps? Geberic barked. This isnt a trip for leisure. By his side, ukos allowed the corner of his mouth to tug upwards, but he did not speak.


    We have been here hours, Matthewined. Are you sure you understood the message right?


    There wasnt much to misunderstand, Geberic retorted. Tonight at this oak.


    Could it be a trap? Quentin questioned.


    Possibly, Geberic admitted doubtfully, but if they wanted to capture us, they could have done so already. That ckrobe knew where to find us, after all.


    Do you think we did the right thing? ukos asked quietly of Geberic. Perhaps someone intended to lure us away from thedy Arndis?


    I didnt think of that, Geberic replied with a curse. But I cant imagine the ckrobes would do such a thing.


    There! ukos interjected. I see someone, he added in a quiet voice.


    Its ay brother, Matthew told them.


    Soon, the shape had approached sufficiently for the rest to confirm what Matthew had seen. When they brother threw down his hood, tion erupted among the men.


    Sir!


    Milord!


    Lieutenant!


    Ill be damned, Troy admitted, leaping to his feet. I have material for three different songs now.


    Brand removed the robe entirely and shivered slightly in the chill of the night. Better the cold than hide who I am, he told his men smiling. Hopefully I will never wear anothers feathers again.


    My lord, what happens now? asked ukos.


    Brand looked at each of his men in turn, letting his gaze linger upon them. You have all risked the wrath of powerful enemies to stand by my side. I will never forget this, he told them emphatically. As long as I live, you shall all have a ce at my table. When I have a table again, he added wryly and was rewarded with grins. For now, we flee the reach of the lord protector and his henchmen. He turned his gaze east. We make for Heohlond. The others voiced their assent and the small band set out.

 Chapter 91: Master and Thane

    Chapter 91: Master and Thane


    Middanhal was in uproar. Not only had Brand escaped the executioners block while standing on the very scaffold, the intervention hade from the captain of the kingthanes, adding insult to injury. That the thane had willingly taken Brands ce under the executioners axe only made things look worse for Houses Hardling and Vale. Furthermore, while his flight had been spectacr and public, Brands escape was not the worst thing to befall the rulers of Adalrik; at least they and others were confident that Brand was still in the city and would eventually be found.


    The whole city was aze after the discovery that both the sons of Isarn had fled the dungeons of the Citadel along with their uncle. Not only did Jarl Isarn have his heir and second son returned to him, his feared and famous brother was also by his side again, ready to lead the armies of Isarn once more. Unlike Brand, there was little doubt that they had fled the city already and were beyond Vales grasp. This certainty was due to the greatest blow of all; the escape had been orchestrated by Gerhard, brother to the crown prince, and the rebels had left the city in a carriage belonging to House Hardling. Not only had the realms most dangerous traitors managed to flee, their numbers had increased in the shape of the younger prince.


    Hardmar had been fuming ever since the events at the Temple square, and his ire only increased upon his return to the Citadel and learning of his brothers actions. Numerous breakable items had paid the price so far, and the kingthanes were caught in the dilemma of trying to give the prince as wide a berth as possible while still actually guarding him.


    The lord protector had been contemting the same issue. He had received news that strictly speaking, he did not need to share with Hardmar; Jarl Vale was the ruler of the realm, not the prince. After conferring with his brother, Valerian had decided to inform Hardmar nheless. Thus, in the evening of this eventful day, the two Vale brothers entered the royal chambers.


    The servants, usually present somewhere in the background, were not be found. Inghard was hiding in the library tower. The kingthanes stood positioned by the entrance to the royal quarters, as far away from the inner rooms as possible. All of them stood aside with nk expressions as Valerian and Konstans walked past.


    Reaching the parlour in front of Hardmars personal chamber, the lord protector and dragonlord was met by the aftermath of mayhem. Shards were strewn generously across the floor from jars, pitchers, cups, and simr. Books were flung across the room, chairsy toppled over, and any liquid once inside the broken containersy spilled on the ground. Hardmar sat in the midst of the destruction with the only undamaged bottle and cup in his hands.


    My prince, Valerian spoke cautiously to gain his attention. I was given this not long ago. He held a letter in his hand. It was written by your brother.


    That snake, Hardmar hissed, leaping to his feet and pushing the bottle in hisp onto the ground where it shattered.


    Konstans raised an eyebrow at seeing the wine spill before looking at the prince. Prince Gerhard writes his motivations for doing as he did.


    Let me guess, Hardmar sneered. He has joined the rebels in the hope they will put him on the throne instead of me.


    On the contrary, my prince, Konstans gainsaid him. He hopes to persuade Jarl Isarn toy down his arms with this gesture of good will.


    Hardmar snatched the letter from Valerians hand and began reading it. What nonsense, he scoffed. This is obviously a ruse of some sort. Nothing but a sword against his throat will make Isarn surrender, and only a fool assumes otherwise.


    Prince Gerhards decision was undoubtedly foolhardy, the lord protector began to say.


    Do not call him that! Hardmar bellowed. Betrayers do not deserve titles!


    Of course, my prince, Valerian added with a small bow.


    This is utter rubbish, Hardmar mumbled as his eyes nced over the letter. Why does he only mention presenting Isenwald to his father? He ran away with all three prisoners. How much thought did he put into this?


    Who can say, my prince, Konstans muttered. Regardless, however informal or ill-conceived, this is an invitation to negotiate. I intend to participate and see what may be gained.


    Hardmar narrowed his eyes sceptically while Valerian looked at his brother in surprise. You did not tell me you meant to leave, he reproached Konstans.


    It is in the best interests of the realm that this rebellion is put to an end sooner rather thanter. As dragonlord, I will pursue whatever means avable.


    As if you care, Hardmar sneered. If this is so important, let your brother go.


    Perhaps it is wisest that I go instead, Valerian agreed.


    No. You and only you were elected by the Adalthing to rule as lord protector. If you are captured or killed, it throws the entire leadership of the realm into question, Konstans exined calmly. We cannot risk that. I will go.


    You are eager to rush into a trap, the prince remarked with scorn.


    I will bring the remaining Red Hawks with me and join up with those besieging Grenwold. I will have an army three times the size of Isarns with me. I would like to see them spring any trap, Konstans dered dryly.


    Go then, Hardmar finally said with disdain. I hope it is a trap. It means either you or Isarn will suffer defeat. He turned around and pushed the shards of the broken wine bottle around with his foot. Where are the servants? he grumbled.


    Valerian turned to walk around, but Konstans remained standing. If you say so, my prince, he replied haltingly. With our numbers, victory is assured. Perhaps I will bring the scribe with me as Adalbrand did and send reports back to the town criers of my victory over Isarn.


    Hardmar stiffened and turned around on his heel. Why would you mention that name? And why have the soldiers failed to apprehend him?


    The city isrge, Konstans exined with regret. Unfortunately, taking the Red Hawks with me will dy our search, but it is necessary I bring all avable troops with me. Should it be a trap, as my prince hopes.


    No, Hardmar dered incensed. Leave if you wish, but the soldiers stay! I want that bastard found!


    My prince, please, Valerian spoke in an attempt at a soothing voice.


    The Red Hawks fight under the banner of Vale, paid by our gold, Konstans told the prince with a cold voice. They will follow me to do battle against Isarn if need be. The risk is mine entirely, my prince, as is any glory.


    I will go in your ce, Hardmar proimed abruptly. You can stay behind. I will handle these negotiations, if they are anything more than a phantasm of my foolish brothers mind.


    You have no authority with which to conduct negotiations, Konstans reminded him with a hint of a superior smile. You may be our prince, but you are not our king. If you wish to apany me, I cannot stop you, but I will be inmand.


    You are damn right you cannot stop me! Hardmar roared. I will be leading the army, and any victories will be mine! The people will hail my name as victor, me as the Dragonheart!


    Brother, Valerian cautioned him.


    If that is your wish, Konstans conceded with a vague gesture imitating a bow. The Vale brothers left, leaving Hardmar to dump into his seat with an empty cup and a bitter expression.


    ~~~~


    The following day, Hardmar summoned his court to the throne room. Once the courtiers arrived, they found the prince in the high seat with a great axe lying across his legs. He nced around the hall at those present, finally motioning for the guards to bring two prisoners forward. They were Ulfrik and Ernulf, thanes to the jarl of Isarn. With little consideration, the Hawks pushed the men to the middle of the hall in front of the throne and forced them on their knees; both had shackles around their hands.


    One of these men, Hardmar announced loudly, killed the family of Jarl Ingmond. They both use the other of the deed, and we have no witnesses. I have decided it should be handled the old way through trial bybat. The courtiers exchanged whispers and looks of disbelief, but none spoke up. Let the gods show the truth. You, he called out to the kneeling prisoners, fight.


    What? asked Ernulf.


    To the death? asked Ulfrik.


    Until one man no longer stands, Hardmar replied with a casual manner.


    The Hawks moved away, and both men immediately got on his feet. Thebatants circled around each other, sizing up their opponent;cking weapons and with chains on their wrists, their options were limited. Finally, Ulfrik rushed forward and tackled Ernulf. Both men fell to the ground and struck at the other, but the shackles kept either man fromnding a decisive blow. Trapped underneath therger man, Ernulf managed to push Ulfrik back and seized his opportunity to crawl away. He did not get far; changing tactics, Ulfrik grabbed him by the arm and shoulder to turn him around onto his stomach. With murder in his eyes, the thane wrapped his chains around his formerrades throat. Ernulf gasped for air, but Ulfrik only tightened his hold. The court watched in trepidation and fascination as the moments trickled by along with Ernulfs life. Finally, he ceased fighting andy still.


    Disentangling his chains, Ulfrik rose to his feet and faced the prince, having added blood stains to his filthy and torn appearance. Hardmar viewed him with a discerning eye. Take off his head, hemanded, lifting the great axe in hisp with some difficulty and throwing it at Ulfrik. Thetter caught the weapon with one hand, took hold with the other, and swung. As the court gasped in collective horror, Ulfrik separated Ernulfs head from its shoulders.


    Put it in a box and send it to Jarl Ingmond as a present, Hardmar told a servant, who stood staring with open mouth. Tell him it is the man who killed his family. As for you, the prince continued, looking at Ulfrik, tell me. Who do you serve?


    The thane hurried to kneel. You, my prince.


    I need men by my side who will follow mymand unquestioningly. Who will kill my enemies without hesitation.


    Still holding the axe in one hand, Ulfrik raised its bloody edge towards the prince. Without hesitation, my prince. Hey the stained weapon aside.


    Good. Swear it. Hardmar rose and walked down the steps to stand before the kneeling warrior. He extended his hand, which Ulfrik grabbed and pressed to his forehead.


    I will to my lord be true and faithful, Ulfrik proimed. Your life is my life, your blood is my blood. All my days I shall serve my lord until death may find me. He paused for a moment, looking up at Hardmar, who returned his gaze expectantly. Pressing the princes hand against his brow once more, he continued. By eagles flight from ravens cry, through falcons fall till dragons rise, this oath I swear.


    By my table you shall be seated. In life, you shall know reward. In death, you shall know honour. All my days, I will hold this to be true, Hardmar replied, and the oath wasplete. I name you captain of my kingthanes. He turned towards those of his protectors present, who looked crestfallen. Follow his example, or you will follow your former captain.


    This is an outrage! It was not any lord or thane who spoke out, but Theodwyn. She marched to stand in front of the throne, only a few paces away from Ulfrik and the prince. This brute assaulted me and otherdies of noble birth! His honour is forfeit twice, for attacking unarmed women and hostages under his protection! Yet you elevate him? Disbelief and indignation overflowed in her voice.


    Be silent, Hardmar sneered. My decisions are not yours to question.


    I do question them, my prince. The title was spoken with a heavy dose of mockery. After all, your new protector could not even win a fight against three unarmed women! she crowed, speaking as much to the court as the thane.


    I can remedy that right now, Ulfrik bellowed, grabbing the axe from the floor.


    By Theodwyns side, Eleanor appeared. She tore the veil from her head, revealing the burn scars that disfigured her face. Try us, she taunted. You and your master are not the first tyrants I have faced.


    Enough! Hardmar dered. Go find a uniform, he told Ulfrik, and take a bath. You stink. He turned towards Eleanor and Theodwyn, staring at thetter. As for you, keep wagging that tongue like a dogs tail, and I will make dog meat of you, he threatened, turning abruptly around to depart the throne room with speed. He left behind a court confounded by what they had witnessed, an incensed thane along with two noblewomen in the same state of mind, and a headless corpse lying in a pool of blood.


    ~~~~


    The barracks were bustling with activity. The Red Hawks in the Citadel had been informed they would march to join their brethren in the north at the siege, which had caused a whirlwind of preparations. There had been no word on what exactly was expected of them, so spection was rampant.


    I bet they got tired of waiting, Gawad considered. He was sewing to mend some clothes. Were all going up the stormdders at that castle the boys are besieging.


    How much are you willing to bet? Jorund asked with shining eyes, pausing from putting oil on his short sword.


    It is only a way of speaking, the southerner chided him.


    The Dwarf gave aughter. Too bad. I am quite certain youre wrong.


    How so? What else is there up north, except for the cold and some flea-infested sheep? Gawad gave a shudder as if he could feel the chill already.


    You forget to see the connection between events, Jorund informed him. Havent you heard about the escaped prisoners?


    I did, Gawad said disinterested. So what?


    Youre really not from the Realms, the Dwarf grinned. One of them was Athelstan. Everyone knows his name.


    Well, they dont in Alczar, Gawad retorted.


    He is a brilliant captain. With his return, Jarl Isarns armies are twice as dangerous. Ill bet you a barrel theyre sending us north because they expect to do battle with him soon.


    If he is so brilliant, how did he get captured, Gawad questioned.


    Good point, Jorund conceded. There was this youngd, barely a knight, they say, who beat him on the battlefield.


    Why isnt he leading the fight?


    He is busy hiding somewhere in Lowtown where the executioner cant find him, Jorund exined with a grin.


    Really? Gawad eximed, taken aback. That was him?


    None other.


    Did you hear? A third Hawk joined their conversation, standing restless. About what happened in the throne room?


    What?


    The prince had two prisoners fight to the death, the soldier told them eagerly, and made the winner the new captain of his thanes! He took the oath right then and there with the corpse still bleeding next to him.


    Gods, thisnd of savages, Gawad mumbled to himself.


    I guess there was an opening to fill, Jorund remarked.


    Why dont you try to join their ranks, Jorund? the third Hawk suggested. You wont have to march around from fight to fight, risking your life.


    Laughter burst out in response. A Dwarf in the clothes of a kingthane! Jorund howled. These drakonians would tear the hair from their heads at the mere thought.


    Besides, it doesnt seem to be that much safer, Gawad interjected. From what I hear, these kings and their protectors keep dying.


    Or like yesterday, one kills the other, Jorund added, stillughing.


    Hey, has either of you seen Jerometely? Guy owes me ten eagles.


    Both Gawad and Jorund shrugged in response. Maybe well see him in the kingthane colours, Jorund suggested.


    Lets hope not. Working for these lords is more dangerous than any battlefield, Gawad dered darkly. Best we take our silver and keep our heads down.


    ~~~~


    Hourster, Ulfrik followed his new master to the library tower; the former had been washed clean of the dungeons and wore a blue surcoat with the golden dragon upon it. Quill was sitting by a table in the library hall, reading, when the door was pushed open with excessive force. Hardmar strode into the room with his protector right behind. Seeing the prince and his henchman, Quill slowly rose and turned to face them both.


    You, Hardmar addressed the scribe curtly.


    How may I serve, my prince? Quill asked courteously.


    I want a legal document dering me worthy of being crowned as king immediately, Hardmar informed him coldly.


    From the scriptorium, Egil emerged; one look at the imposing thane made him remain standing in the doorway. Quill sent him a warning look. That is not possible, my prince, thew keeper replied with a polite voice.


    Hardmar stepped forward and stared into Quills face; he was close in height to the scribe, but not quite. You refuse?


    Thew refuses, my prince. I am its embodiment and can only act in ordance to it.


    I am your king! The words burst from Hardmar, suffused with rage. Do as Imand!


    Quillsposure did not strain the least. I cannot, my prince.


    You are the Kings Quill, you are my servant! Hardmar screamed.


    Quill straightened up, allowing him to stare a few inches down at the prince. I am Kateb al-Qasr, the scribe from Alczar, he dered in a proud voice. I am the Kings Quill, but you are not the king, and I am not your Quill.


    Hardmar had been tensing his hands into fists, and anger clouded his eyes; he took a deep breath and turned to look over his shoulder. Seize him, hemanded Ulfrik. Grab his hand and ced it on the table.


    The thane quickly did as told; Quill made no attempt to avoid this or resist. Taking hold of the scribes right arm, Ulfrik forced his hand to lie t on the table.


    Hardmar drew his knife. It is a poor quill that cannot write. Such a tool has no use but to be discarded. Using the handle of his dagger as a hammer, he struck Quills hands, breaking bone.


    An exmation of agony escaped Quill, but he did not move. Instead, he kept his gaze upon the prince as he spoke again. I am the Kings Quill, he spoke as if reciting from a book. I am the embodiment of thew. My person is sacred. An assault upon me is an assault upon the Adalthing.


    Silence! Hardmar struck again, hitting the fingers.


    I am the Kings Quill, the scribe repeated. I am the embodiment of thew.


    Shut up! Another crunching sound, apanied by a scream of despair from Egil. The others present paid him no heed.


    I am the Kings Quill. I am the embodiment of thew.


    Remove him! Hardmar shouted. Throw him in a cell until he wastes away!


    With pleasure, Ulfrik growled, hauling thew keeper away.


    In the doorway, Egil stood stunned; only the tears rolling down his face indicated otherwise. You are the new Quill, Hardmar informed him with a harsh voice. You will apany me and the army when we march out that you may record my victories. And upon our return to Middanhal, you will write the document that the old fool refused to do so.


    The prince left without waiting for any reply, leaving Egil alone in the library.


    ~~~~


    Elsewhere, Holebert and Holwyn were making a hasty departure from their jarls rooms at the Citadel, leaving the siblings of Theodstan alone in their shared quarters. While one sat calmly down, the other was animated and pacing around the room while gesticting wildly.


    You said nothing! Theodwyn eximed infuriated.


    What would that have aplished? Theodoric defended himself.


    The man who wanted to cut your sisters head off is walking around free in this castle! She turned to stare at him with furious eyes. You will simply ept this without a single word in objection?


    With my low standing at court, it would have meant nothing, he argued.


    It might have given others courage to speak up, Theodwyn countered. Or at the very least, shown that you have some kind of backbone!


    I went against Vale and the prince at the Adalthing, the jarl retorted, both his body and his temper rising. Against my better judgement, pressured by you. I made an enemy of these people, and it changed nothing! You would have me continue on this path?


    Yes!


    I should gainsay the prince at every turn, giving him every cause to despise me?


    Better than to have your own sister despise you, Theodwyn almost hissed.


    Theodoric took a deep breath, regarding his sister with cold eyes. You should mind that insolence of yours.


    I never speak a word that is untrue, she dered proudly.


    Very noble, Theodoric spoke pointedly, and very foolish. Nothing gets a man killed faster than the truth.


    At least I would die with my spine straight and not limp from years of bending so low, she said venomously.


    Her brother stared at her with narrowed eyes. I think it best you leave the Citadel. Go and live at my house in the city, or better yet, return to Theodstan. There is little reason you should remain here.


    Theodwyn scoffed. All my friends are at court. I will not be chased away. But I will take my evening walk for the sake of my health, not that you would care. Holwyn? she called out. Apany me.


    Holwyn fled, and with good reason, Theodoric told her. Take one of my thanes.


    I would not dream of it, his sister replied with disdain. I want solitude from all these brutes at court, not to surround myself with them! She turned and marched out of the room with determined steps.


    ~~~~


    In the dragonlords study, Arion was given audience with his master. He waited until the servant had left before leaning forward to speak in a loud whisper. Did you hear, milord? About the Kings Quill and the new thanes?


    I did, Konstans replied curtly. Word has spread wildly through the castle. I have already been approached twice with regards to what I will do.


    What will you do, milord?


    The dragonlord raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. The prince ims that the Quill assaulted him, and that his thane merely defended him. I doubt you will find anyone who believes that, but we are marching out tomorrow, and I hardly have time to begin a formal proceeding into the matter. It will have to wait until I return.


    Very well, milord. Arion licked his lips. Did you hear about the thanes?


    I was not present, but of course I did. Konstans returned his attention to the parchment in front of him. Decapitation in the throne room and a traitor made thane, the scandal is as great as his attack upon the Quill.


    Not that, milord, Arion exined eagerly. Apparently he does not trust the other kingthanes after the captains betrayal. The prince has already appointed up towards twenty new kingthanes, many of them former Hawks. They swore the oath just now.


    Konstans turned his gaze back upon the chambein, frowning in contemtion. I suppose given his fear of treason, it makes sense from his viewpoint. Though I think he has traded hounds for wolves.


    You bade me inform you of any changes in the princes protection. Do you require anything further?


    Konstans shook his head. It does not matter thiste in the game. We leave tomorrow. The damage with the Quill has been done. I imagine that will suffice for one day even for the prince. You make take your leave for the night.


    Very well, milord. I bid you good night.


    ~~~~


    Usually, Theodwyn would take her stroll in the orchards and castle gardens, but Theobald had decided to keep such areas locked for the night until his garrison was back at full strength. Finding herself frustrated, Theodwyn went up the floors to walk along the castle walls, taking in the fresh air. Most Order soldiers were ced on the northern walls after dark to keep watch against the enemying from that direction; with Athelstan returning tomand his brothers forces, vignce was demanded more than ever.


    Because of that, Theodwyn could walk undisturbed along the fortifications. The only soldiers on duty were atop the different towers, keeping an eye on the city and the wide Arnsweg curving alongside the castle. Soon, she found another on the wall, moving towards her; she stiffened and stood straight as the shape approached.


    You, she spat with utter contempt.


    Ulfrik gave a vicious smile. I did not imagine you would give me this chance on the eve of my departure, walking alone beyond your brothers clutches. You are as foolish as you are impudent.


    Be silent, you dog, she sneered. Return to your masters heel. She made to move forward, but he blocked her path.


    We have already taken care of the ink-stained fool, Ulfrik told her menacingly. Unless you beg forgiveness for your insults and grovel at my feet, you will be next before tomorrows over, I swear it by the Seven and Eighth.


    Mad dogs like you should be put down, Theodwyn retorted. Only a mad man would give you a position. Prince or not, I have nothing but contempt for him and you. She tried again to walk past him, but he moved to stand in her way.


    You should learn humility, or you will learn the price that every haughty hag must pay, he threatened, advancing and pressing her against the crions to prevent any possible escape.


    You dare to threaten me? she sneered. My brother is a jarl. Touch me, and I will have your head.


    Not before I have your tongue, he shot back. My former master was a jarl, and it did not save his kin from the dungeons, nor will it save you. He towered over her. Beg for mercy, you miserable crone.


    She responded with scornfulughter. Or what? It went poorly for youst time we danced, and you even had an axe.


    Not another word, Ulfrik warned her with rage shing in his eyes, tightening his hands into fists.


    I believe I still see the mark of my shoe on your neck. Her derisiveughter continued.


    Enough! he roared, and one hand shot forward against her. It was unclear whether his intention was to grab her by the cor or to push her, but it was thetter effect that came to pass. Arms iling wildly, Theodwyn fell backwards. She attempted to grab onto the crions, but in vain, and continued past them. For a few moments, she plummeted towards the ground; shended on the cobblestones, shattering her spine and the back of her head with death to follow.

 Chapter 92: Flour and Turnip

    Chapter 92: Flour and Turnip


    Hourster, still before the sun had risen, Holwyn slipped inside her masters quarters. She found her brother waiting for her in the parlour. How is he? she asked softly.


    Sadness was written on Holeberts face. He has not been to bed. He merely sits upon it, staring nkly. He does not answer when I speak to him.


    Let me try. She passed her brother and entered the jarls personal chamber. Theodoric? she called to him with a gentle voice.


    As Holebert had told her, the jarl sat on the edge of his bed staring at an empty wall. He did not stir or turn his head when Holwyn spoke his name, but he did respond. What have you learned? His voice was toneless.


    None saw the actual  incident, she told him cautiously. A kingthane was seen by that wall not long after.


    Who?


    He was spotted from afar by a guard standing on a tower, Holwyn exined with hesitation. The guard paid little notice to him. I could enquire about the movements of the kingthanes and determine his identity, possibly, but sess is uncertain. I might learn enough to piece it together, I might not.


    How likely?


    It will be harder with the prince departing today along with many of the kingthanes and the Hawks, Holwyn considered. Those would be the people to question. I could travel with the army and return to you once I know.


    I know enough, Theodoric stated monotonously.


    You do, milord?


    It was that former thane of Isarn. If not him, then one of hispanions.


    I think so as well, milord. Holwyn stared at her master, searching his face, but it remained devoid of emotion.


    My mind is settled.


    What will you do? Holwyn asked carefully.


    He finally turned his head to gaze at her. I will leave this chamber and attend court. I will ept the condolences and this story that she fell by ident. I will appear to be in mourning, nothing more.


    But? she dared to add.


    I will find the coward who dered war on the House of Theodstan, and I will kill anyone I see fit until my thirst for revenge is satisfied, he dered in a calm voice, standing up. Tell Holebert toe here. I need to dress. The choice of attire was easy; all of Theodorics clothes were ck.


    ~~~~


    Although it belonged to her husband, Mathilde was a rare sight in the dragonlords office. Her presence was a sign of how tumultuous thest days had been; she had marched through the antechamber and forced her way into his study without allowing any obstacle to hinder her.


    Calm yourself, Konstans told her to little effect.


    The Quill is in prison, Theodstans sister is dead, and Athelstan has escaped the dungeons to join his brother, she dered with a clenched jaw. Everything is unravelling.


    Athelstans escape is unfortunate, but Isarn has not nearly the army he once did. The damage is limited, Konstans imed, taking a healthy sip of his undiluted wine.


    This has made Theodstanpletely unpredictable, Mathilde argued. Before, he could be relied upon to remain passive. Who knows what he intends now?


    Who knows, Konstans repeated muttering. He will be seeking revenge. The dragonlord paused for a moment. I need to meet with him now while there is time, he eximed in sudden realisation. Before we leave. There is no time to waste. He left in haste, leaving his bewildered wife behind.


    ~~~~


    In the library tower, Egil was packing his belongings. Although the task was familiar to him, he still had his belongings spread out on his bed to determine what to pack. Along with nearly all his possessions, Kate was also in his room, looking concerned. What about Master Quill?


    I dont know, Egil admitted, surveying his ink set, feather pens, clothes, and rolls of parchment. I tried to see him this morning, but they wouldnt let me in, and I wont get any more chances before I have to leave.


    How can you leave at such a time as this? Kate questioned.


    He looked up at her. Do you think I want to travel with these madmen? They tortured Master Quill, he spoke with emphasis. I want to run in the other direction, but that wont help me or my master, so I am doing as I am told.


    Why cant you tell someone? When I saw Lord Elis receive letters from the rebels, I was also scared to talk. But I told the captain, and he made it right, Kate argued.


    Those were special circumstances, Egil countered. Master Quill is thew keeper, and they threw him in a cell, which should tell you what regard they hold thew in. If I say anything, Ill be right there next to him.


    Then at least you could look out for him! Kate almost stamped her foot in frustration.


    Anger shed across Egils face, but it quickly subsided. Just be d youre a kitchen girl and not part of any of this. Now, I have to pack, and you have your own duties to attend to.


    Egil, she asked hesitantly, what happens to the library while youre gone?


    Happens to it? Nothing, he replied absentmindedly. I imagine the kingthanes will keep it locked until my return.


    She stared at him as he picked out what to bring along on the march north; receiving no further reaction from him, she turned on her heel and left the library swiftly.


    ~~~~


    There was a knock on the door to Eleanors room, and with her handmaiden absent, she opened the door herself to find William standing outside, wearing full armour and surcoat. I just heard about Lady Theodwyn, he told her with dismay. You have my deepest sympathies.


    She stood staring at him, hesitating for a moment before she stepped forward to put her arms around him tightly. Although taken aback, he returned the embrace. I am d you are here. You are very cold, she continued. Have you been out all night?


    He nodded, and they separated; she stepped back into the room, followed by him. Yet another fruitless search for Brand. Wherever he hides, I cannot reach him, which I hope means he is beyond the reach of his enemies as well.


    He is clever, Eleanor dered. He is probably miles away by now.


    I doubt it, but let us hope so since I obviously cannot help him.


    You have done your best, she consoled him.


    I have done nothing. I could not stop his arrest, his trial, or his execution. I cannot even help him escape, William admitted bitterly. I am a knight, not a courtier. It is little wonder I should fail at every turn.


    You are being too hard on yourself, Eleanor said in a soothing voice, letting her hand stroke his brow.


    On the contrary, it is important I remind myself. Brand is the same, and he forgot. It does not matter that he wins every battle on the field. He loses every battle in these halls because he does not understand.


    Eleanor bit her lip. So what will you do?


    He took a deep breath. Bearing this in mind, I will return to my duty. I came to Middanhal hoping to solicit aid for the campaign in Hthiod. I will speak with the quartermaster and gain what troops I can, and then I will return to finish the liberation of our homnd. He hesitated briefly. You coulde with me. You have not been home in Tothmor for ten years if I recall.


    Eleanor considered it before shaking her head. Arndis has lost her brother and a close friend within the span of days. I cannot abandon her as well.


    I understand, William told her. I will leave soon, I imagine. With summer approaching, I need to take advantage of the season to finish the campaign.


    Of course, Eleanor replied, almost masking the disappointment on her face. The Order has no better knight than you.


    He stared at her with an indeterminable expression on his face. You are too kind as always, Lady Eleanor. He gave a bow and left her room.


    ~~~~


    The jarl of Theodstan strode into his own quarters, where the dragonlord awaited him. Thetter bowed his head. My condolences, my lord, upon your loss.


    Thank you, Theodoric replied with indifference. I was told you were anxiously waiting in my chambers to speak to me. I thought you had a horse waiting to take you north.


    Hence the reason for my anxiety as time is short, Konstans exined. He nced at Holebert, who had originally fetched the jarl. May we speak privately, my lord?


    There was a moment where Theodoric seemed not to care, but he nodded to his servant, who quickly departed. What do you want?


    We are both intelligent men, so I will dispense with pretence. You are aware of who is guilty in Lady Theodwyns death?


    The jarls eyes and voice changed from dull to cold. Why?


    One of the new kingthanes. Ulfrik would be my guess, Konstans told him.


    That is not what I asked.


    I want to give you the opportunity to exact your vengeance.


    Theodoric gave a sardonic smile. Grief may cloud my mood, Konstans, but not my mind. What does it matter to you?


    A member of a jarls family has been in with impunity, he exined. It cannot go unpunished.


    That sounds likely, but noting from you.


    I extend this aid to you now because I hope to rely on your aid in the future, Konstans admitted. Should, for instance, a new jarl of Isarn need to be chosen by the Adalthing rather than by our future king.


    Theodoric scrutinised the other mans face. You are a hard man to read.


    It might alsoe to pass we need to choose another future king, Konstans finally confessed. One who will not throw the Quill into shackles.


    The jarl gave another mirthless smile. Your puppet has cut his strings, has he? Now the rest of us shall pay the price.


    I grant you that matters have escted far beyond what any could predict.


    You have a hand in creating this monster that besets us, Konstans, Theodoric dered. Yet I may not hold it against you if you can deliver what you promised. State your n.


    The kingthanes, including your sisters murderer, are untouchable inside this castle. Yet all of these new savages appointed by our prince will travel with him north. An army camp inparison is susceptible to swift raids.


    I am aware, Theodoric remarked with a touch of disdain.


    I am going north to negotiate with Isarn, however futile such an attempt is bound to be. It ismon knowledge that Isarn will have troops in the area, and given hisck of honour, none would doubt that he might make such a cowardly attack.


    I assume that is not all you intend? To tell me things I already know?


    We have a great number of Isarn uniforms in our possession after defeating their army, Konstans exined patiently. My chambein, Arion, can give you ess to those surcoats.


    The mocking expression disappeared from Theodorics face, and he took a deep breath. I see.


    You will have some time, Konstans told him. The army does not travel fast, and we will be in camp for a while. He gave a deep bow. My condolences once more, Jarl Theodoric. I shall leave you in peace. As they parted, one man wore a faint smile, the other a contemtive look.


    ~~~~


    Less than an hourter, the Red Hawks in Middanhal marched out to join the rest of theirpany at the siege of Castle Grenwold. At the front of the long column rode Prince Hardmar with more than twenty kingthanes, most of them newly sworn to his service; the supplies train was in the other end. Unlike his previous journey with an army, a horse had not been provided for Egil, so he had found a seat in the back of a cart carryingrge sacks of flour. It was not particrlyfortable, but he could do worse for a seat, and riding the wagon spared his legs the walk and his arms from carrying his belongings.


    Red Hawks were marching alongside the carts, acting as rear guard. Soon, one of them caught Egils eye. The soldier missed one ear but had an expensive ring in the other along with coloured marks on his skin. While one hand held a spear as he marched, the other had a tendency to stroke the groomed beard on his chin. Eventually, Jorund noticed the young scribe staring and sent him a grin.


    Youre a Dwarf, Egil pointed out.


    As if bewildered, Jorund touched the gold ring in his ear and then grabbed hold of his facial hair. By my beard, youre right,d! I never knew! Heughed.


    I just meant, Egil stammered, Ive never seen a Dwarven warrior. Youre a Red Hawk, even.


    You dont miss anything, do you? Jorunds eyes glistened with mirth.


    I didnt think your people liked to fight.


    This evoked boisterousughter from the Dwarf. Are you mad, boy? We fight in our mothers wombs, trying to punch our way out. Show me two Dwarves and Ill show you where the fightings at!


    I didnt know, Egil admitted thoughtfully. The only Dwarves Ive seen are those at the Mint or working their craft in the shops in town.


    Ind Dwarves, Jorund remarked with a superior smile. Im from the inds, and like any true inder, travelling is in my blood. Ive been to every Realm by now and Alczar beyond. Where I lost this. He motioned towards his missing ear.


    What happened? Egil asked excited.


    I had too much to drink one night. Truth be told that happened every night, Jorund confessed with a wicked grin, but this time, these fiends notice my ring and dont know better not to mess with a Dwarf. So they followed me and fell upon me in a dark alley, cutting off my ear and my ring with it, beating and kicking me to a pulp.


    Then what?


    The halfwits made the mistake of leaving me alive. I woke with a bigger headache than usual and a nasty itch on the left side of my head, Jorund rted. It took me a while, but I found out each of those bloody ear snatchers names and I got my ring back, plus something for my troubles.


    I have never seen a man wear ear rings, Egil contemted. Only women and Dwarves.


    Its an old custom, Jorund began to exin.


    Jorund, you bow-legged, bearded bastard! A Hawk with a more borate insignia appeared. Quit your yapper and fall into line, or your only supper will be the whip tonight!


    Yes, lieutenant! Jorund replied with a stout expression. Dont worry, he spoke quietly to Egil, he is all hammer and no nail. He gave the boy a wink and hurried past the cart, falling into ce next to a couple of other Hawks.


    Egil turned his head and followed the Dwarf with his eyes. Looking beyond to see the rest of the train, something caught him by surprise. Jumping down from his cart, he ran forward past a couple of other wagons. Kate! he eximed.


    Sitting in another cart was the kitchen girl from Citadel. I wondered how long before you realised I was here.


    What on  how? Why?


    Youre not the only one who gets to go somewhere, Kate told him with a touch of defiance. The fine folks need someone to cook for them in camp same as in a castle, and Cook must be tired of me, because she let me leave. Her demeanour changed into a grin.


    Kate, this isnt a trip for leisure! Egil almost tripped over the words in his eagerness to correct her impression. It isnt like the stories you read in the books or hear in songs. There could be battles, this is dangerous!


    Would you prefer I wasnt here? Would you rather be alone?


    I didnt mean that, Egil defended himself. I just dont think you thought this through.


    I did, Kate imed forcefully. Master Quill is in the dungeons and you are gone, leaving the library locked off and me trapped in the kitchens. I am tired of being left behind.


    Egil walked next to the cart for a few moments, digesting her words. Whats in that cart?


    Mostly sacks of vegetables, I think. Turnips, by the feel of them.


    Mine is better, its flour. He gestured with his head. Lets sit there. Its morefortable. With a smile, Kate jumped down and followed him down the row of carts.

 Chapter 93: The Solace of Spring

    Chapter 93: The Sce of Spring


    The Sce of Spring


    Silfrisarn


    The band of riders that entered Silfrisarn had little inmon with the men that had fled Middanhal. The carriage with the emblem of House Hardling had been discarded and extra mounts procured instead. The Hawk surcoats and torn clothing had been exchanged for wool or leather tunics in the first vige they had reached inside the jarldom of Isarn. Some of the vigers had been sceptical when sighting the ragged group, but the peasants were won over by the noble manner of the sons of Isarn, Athelstan in particr; soon they were in part stupefied by having suchpany, in part eager to please in any way possible. With the help of proper food, the escaped prisoners slowly regained their strength and began to resemble their former selves.


    The guards upon the towers of Silfrisarn, easily recognising who was returning, shouted the news with joy. It was spread swiftly through the city, as these were the first good tidings to arrive to the city in many months; with Isarn having suffered several defeats and knowing that the siege of Grenwold was a precursor to its own, Silfrisarn was starved for good news.


    Progressing through the city, some of the riders responded to the cheers with their own; for Isenwald, it was an entirely new experience to beuded. Prince Gerhard and Jerome, the Red Hawk, had subdued reactions; they were now truly in the grasp of Jarl Isenhart, enemy of the Crown.


    Reaching the keep, the riders dismounted with expressions of relief and gratitude. Their arrival caused a greatmotion; servants dropped whatever they were holding, guards pointed and shouted, while the extended family of the jarl came running to greet their returning kin.


    Athelbold, the jarls cousin, came swifter than most others and embraced Athelstan with the warmth of a brother. Behind him came his brood, shouting and greeting the kinsmen they had been told they would never see again. Isenwaldughed freely and even dour Eumund smiled.


    It has been a gloomy winter, Athelbold dered, but the new year has brought sce. Wee home!


    Thank you, Cousin, Athelstan replied. Wee not empty-handed, but bring good tidings as well. Where is my brother?


    I left him in the great hall. Be warned. Athelbold lowered his voice. His demeanour has been foul ever since victory in this war became a fools hope. Do not expect a warm wee.


    Consider me warned, Athelstan told him quietly with an understanding expression. Let us greet your father, he spoke to his nephews, raising his voice. We have much to tell.


    ~~~~


    The jarl of Isarn sat in his great chair lined with the skin of the bear he had killed in his youth, proving himself worthy of his title. A cup and pitchery before him, both empty. As the newly arrived entered the hall, he looked towards them.


    My sons and brother return, he dered. Would that the army you lost returned with you.


    His sons nced at each other, whereas Athelstan stepped forward. Some things cannot be mended, but the fates have deemed it right that your sons should not die to the sound of cheers, surrounded only by enemies. It is a sign, he imed, and the first step towards regaining what has been lost.


    The jarl rose and approached his family. I have heard such promises before, yet here we are in Silfrisarn when we should be in Middanhal.


    Times have changed, Athelstan assured him. We do not arrive alone but have travelled with the man who rescued us from certain death, Prince Gerhard. He gestured towards the prince behind him, who stepped forward.


    The jarl looked sceptically at the youth. And did you do this out of the goodness of your heart?


    Losing the intimidated look upon his face, Gerhard cleared his throat. I hope to remedy the ills that gue our realm.


    Isenhart stared at him with a scrutinising gaze. Do you, now, he muttered.


    I will exin it all, Athelstan promised.


    Well met, Father, Isenwald spoke up. It  is good to be home.


    The jarl let his eyes rest on his sons, and his shoulders dropped as tension left his body. I am d you are home, he admitted, grasping each of them around the neck. You are sons of Isarn, and if those silkworms had hurt either of you, I would have yed them alive. Eumund did not respond but gave an awkward smile in his fathers grasp while Isenwald grinned happily.


    Boys! A new voice broke through the crowd to announce a woman pushing her way forward. My sons, my sons, she cried out, and they turned around to face her. She grabbed them, hugging them both as best she could. My boys, I thought you were lost to me, Ha confessed with tears appearing in her eyes.


    All this wailing, Isenhartined. Make your greetings and refresh yourself after the journey. Find me in my study afterwards, but do not keep me waiting, hemanded his brother, who gave a quick nod. The jarl left, leaving his wife behind to resume her outbursts of joy, hugging her sons tightly.


    ~~~~


    Less than an hourter, Athelstan and Athelbold had joined Isenhart in his private chambers. Tell me, the jarlmanded.


    Prince Gerhard brings a proposal for peace, Athelstan exined. On behalf of Lord Konstans.


    That snake, Isenhart sneered. As if he can be trusted.


    He ensured our release, his brother pointed out. We would all have been executed by now if not for this gesture of goodwill.


    He could simply have demanded leniency at the Adalthing if he wanted to spare your lives, the jarl argued. And why does this proposale from the dragonlord and not the lord protector?


    Perhaps to protect his position, Athelbold considered. This may not be popr among the lords of the Adalthing.


    This smell like a trap, the jarl dered, and gods damn me if it does not look like a trap!


    You have not yet heard the proposal, his brother reminded him.


    Fine. What deal does the so-called dragonlord of Adalrik offer?


    If the wares to an end immediately, we will all receive full pardons, and your title as jarl and member of the Adalthing remains untouched, Athelstan exined. In return, we must pay a geld equal to the sum that Jarl Vale has spent on his mercenaries.


    Of course, Isenhart scoffed, the Bookkeeper is worried about his coin.


    Besides that, we must support the lord protector in any proposals he brings to the Adalthing while his officests, including choosing a new heir.


    I can see why the lord protector would not wish to attach his name to such terms, Athelbold smiled sardonically.


    Why this demand? asked the jarl. Vale chose that brat to be prince.


    He must be regretting his choice.


    This cannot be offered in earnest, Isenhart eximed. Even if we agreed to these terms, the moment we enter Middanhal,ndfrid or not, they will put chains on our hands and a noose around our neck!


    Vale may be eager to see the war end, Athelstan spected. The mercenaries must be draining his coffers dry.


    That I can believe, the jarl scoffed. But this is clearly a trap. Either they will ambush us at these negotiations, or they will once we return to Middanhal.


    If the peace is concluded in public, sworn upon the statue of Disfara at the Adalthing, Athelbold considered, even Vale would not dare to break such a peace. Even these southerners must hold some things sacred.


    Perhaps, Isenhart replied doubtfully, but that merely means they will not let ite that far. They will ambush us the moment we leave this castle.


    Let them, Athelstan dered self-assured. We will bring our forces, and they may bring theirs. Let us see how these sell-swords fare against the sons of Isarn.


    I would ce more faith in that boast, Brother, if you had not already lost one battle on the field.


    I underestimated my opponent, Athelstan confessed. I fought my former squire without knowing it, and he took advantage of my ignorance.


    And what if that should happen again? Isenhart questioned. I will not have you throw my remaining warriors away.


    They tried to behead him some days ago, his brother dered dryly, so I think he is done fighting for them.


    Athelstan is right, said their cousin. If this is genuine, we cannot hope for better terms. If it is false, let us unmask their dishonour by ughtering their hired des.


    Isenhart nced from one to the other. We stay ready to fight at the first sign of treachery, he impressed upon them. And this prince goes with us as our hostage. If they prove false, he pays the price.


    Agreed, Athelstan assented.


    Agreed.


    ~~~~


    The jarl waited three days while his army prepared, letting his returned kin find rest in their ancestral home. On the third morrow, the soldiers of Isarn rode out. With arms and armour made from Nordsteel and led by Isenhart, Athelstan, Athelbold, and Eumund, warriors of renown, they were a fearsome sight. The citizens cheered them on; the ghosts of previous defeats were chased away by the steadfast sound emanating from thousands of boots marching through the streets. With Athelstan returning to lead their armies, the men and women of Isarn breathed easier; the war no longer seemed certain to be lost.


    From a window in the keep, Isenwald watched his brethren ride out. He looked wistful for a moment, but he soon smiled as he held his mothers arm and lent her his support. In the absence of his father, he had been named to rule the jarldom until Isenharts return, and the young man seemed to stand taller than he had ever before.

 Chapter 94: Knives at Night

    Chapter 94: Knives at Night


    I dont believe you! Egil eximed.


    I swear on my ring, Jorund asserted. They make it from snails.


    Youre lying, Kate insisted. Ive seen snails. Theyre gross and slimy, but not purple.


    The Dwarf let his bellowingughter sound. Obviously they are not like our snails, or every peasant would dye his clothing purple! These snails live only on the coast of the Mydlonde Sea, where it is far warmer than here.


    But I dont understand. Egil scratched his head. How do you get dye out of a snail?


    Its a long and difficult process, and they dont tell outsiders about it lest their secrets get stolen, Jorund confided in them. The two youths looked downtrodden upon hearing this, making him quickly continue. But I once spied the snail gatherers at work. It was a strange sight to behold!


    Tell us more, Kate entreated.


    As you wish, the Dwarf granted graciously. See, in the city of Labdah, they used to gather the snails and crush their shells, making a giant stew of the whole thing, he described. Of course, this soon turned against them. You cant milk the cow you kill.


    Of course, Kate nodded sagely.


    So the smartest people in Labdah left the city and founded a new one called Surru, in the other end of the ind sea. A ce still teeming with the little slugs, he continued. To avoid repeating the mistake, they keep the snails alive and simply prod them. It provokes the snail to cover itself in nasty, stinking slime, repelling any predator. It would work perfectly except that disgusting slime has a nice, purple tint, Jorund exined. So youll see hundreds of people walking up and down the coast, prodding the snails and gathering up their muck. You get much less than by the old method, but it keeps the snail alive to be milked next year. He punctuated his words by pretending his water skin was a slug leaving its slime all over Kate, who shrieked and moved away while Egilughed.


    Jorund, we are almost there, Gawad informed his friend and nodded towards the road ahead. In the distance rose Castle Grenwold as an imposing sight, dominating the surrounding hills by being situated on the tallest. Thendscape was lush, allowing for grazing of animals, but the immediate area around the castle was deste; neither man nor beast were found. Where that no mansnd ended, the palisade works could be found, encircling the besieged fortress. A distance further from the castle was the siege camp itself. It resembled a typical army camp except for the siege crafts assembled.


    Sure, the Dwarf responded to his friend. Time to get back into line, he told Kate and Egil with a smile. Maybe well see each other inside camp, yah?


    I hope so! Kate replied eagerly while Egil nodded. Following hisrade, Jorund hurried to find his ce and march with the other Red Hawks into camp.


    ~~~~


    While the soldiers got settled in, Konstans moved straight to the captains tent. He was followed by Hardmar, who kept a close eye on him; two of the princes thanes stuck close by as well. The captain was sitting in a chair, having idle conversation with some of his men, when the small party of noblemen strode in. Immediately, themander rose up and greeted them with a bow. Lord Konstans, Prince Hardmar, he spoke. You arrived sooner than expected.


    We made good time on the march, Konstans replied. How goes the siege? You do not seem particrly burdened.


    There have been the asional sorties and skirmishes, the captain told him. The defenders were mostly active when we first arrived, seeking to disrupt our attempts to set up the siege. That ended with thepletion of the palisades. We have sent terms of surrender but heard nothing back.


    What terms did you offer?


    Surrender within two months if they are not relieved. Our best guess is their food stores should be depleted by then.


    Fine, Konstans assented. I am here for another reason.


    I see. The missive made no mention of this, the captain spoke cautiously.


    We are not in the habit of spreading secrets by letter, Hardmar interjected with an overbearing manner.


    Of course, Your Highness, the Red Hawk replied, looking at the prince. May I enquire why you havee?


    We will be conducting negotiations with the rebels, Hardmar sniffed. As they have already proven themselves dishonourable men, we will also be bringing the army.


    What we need from you, captain, Konstans now interrupted, is to prepare the continuation of the siege with as few men as needed, so that the remainder may march with us.


    Of course, the Hawk nodded. The castle is lightly defended. I think one thousand men should be sufficient to maintain the watch. I do not imagine there is any threat of a relief force assisting the besieged if the Isarn army travels to negotiate with you  or ambush you, as you suspect.


    Indeed, Konstans agreed.


    If the castle is lightly defended, Hardmar spoke with an almost irate voice, why have you not taken it yet?


    A castle is designed for defence, even by a small garrison, the captain exined as if to a small child. If we storm it, we will have losses. You need only give the order, of course, as long as you are willing to pay the extra sum we are owed for such an attempt as per our written agreement. He looked at Konstans.


    No need, captain, the dragonlord replied. Have the army ready to march out by tomorrow, and that will be all.


    Very well, my lord, came the obedient answer. Hardmar did not speak again but restricted himself to an angry stare before storming away, followed by his thanes.


    ~~~~


    Along with the soldiers dispersing to find beds for the night, the provisions train and its many unarmed attendants also spread out to seek a ce toy their head. One of these, a driver for a cart full of water barrels, left the wagon with no further regard and moved quickly into the camp. The shape, drawing little attention, moved through the tents until finding one with a specific shield upon a pole outside; the shield had an insignia of a tree upon it.


    Stepping inside Richard of Alwoods tent, the driver was immediately noticed by the knight. What is this? he spoke brusquely. Announce yourself!


    Sir Richard, Holwyn spoke with a quick grin, letting her hood fall down.


    Holwyn, he eximed astounded. Does this mean Theodoric is recalling me? He knows how much I hate sieges, he spoke surly. I should never have agreed to act as his reeve here.


    In a manner, she replied. You are to leave camp with me, but leave your belongings. You need only your weapons, armour. And your horse, Holwyn added. I suppose it would look odd if you left on foot. If anyone asks, make an excuse. Say that you are exercising your steed or scouting the area, but do not give the real reason why you are leaving.


    I have no idea what that reason might be, Richard pointed out.


    Good. See you outside of camp, she told him and swiftly left.


    ~~~~


    A few miles south, concealed among the hills and the few trees remaining after the besieging army had chopped most of them, a band of warriors stood restlessly. They made no idle conversation or engaged themselves in any other pursuits to pass the time except scouting north towards the camp. They wore dull cloaks and helmets concealing their faces and any insignias upon their clothing. Their leader was Theodoric.


    As sunset approached, Holwyn and Richard reached the group. Theodoric? the margrave questioned. What is the meaning of all this?


    The jarl looked at his vassal. Theodwyn is dead, he dered tonelessly. Murdered by someone in that camp.


    Richards face began to turn red with boiling rage. Who? he growled, his right hand grabbing hold of his sword hilt.


    One of the kingthanes. Our prince has elevated a new brood of brutes to this rank, and one of them pushed her from the walls to her death.


    Which of them? I will carve him into pieces, Richard swore.


    I cannot know for sure. But I use the prince of being behind this, and so his misdeed falls upon all of his sworn men. All of them are guilty, the jarl proimed with his monotone voice.


    Very well, Richard epted. I will challenge each of them and cut my way through them all.


    Even you would notst through twenty duels, Holwyn inserted. It must be done another way.


    How? asked the knight.


    Holwyn pulled out red surcoats from bags lying on the ground. They had the ck swords of Isarn upon them. We take our revenge the old way, the true way. Removing her cloak, she began to put one of the uniforms on. Meanwhile, the other warriors discarded their own cloaks, revealing them to be already dressed in the tabards of the north-western jarldom.


    Richards face expressed his doubt. This is not right, Theodoric. Kill the bastards, yes, but under our own colours. Our vengeance is just. We have no need to hide it.


    If we do that, we will be denounced as traitors and it will be the end. They will besiege Cragstan, and we will all fall, Theodoric retorted. Besides, if the culprit escapes justice tonight, I need to be free to see vengeancepleted.


    This is not right, Richard reiterated. I have never fought under any colours but my own and the Orders.


    This is for Theodwyn, Theodoric impressed upon him, staring down at the shorter knight. Her blood screams to me from the ground. Every single person involved in her death must pay, and this is the way to ensure it.


    The knight exhaled. Very well, Richard relented with reluctant voice. For Theodwyn. But do not ask this of me again.


    I will not, Theodoric promised. He watched as the knight removed his own surcoat with help from Holwyn and donned the emblem of Isarn.


    Let us be on our way, the knight demanded brusquely. I have no wish to wear this attire longer than necessary.


    Theodoric nodded in approval, and the small band set into motion except for himself and Holwyn. You have scouted the camp? he asked quietly of her.


    Yes, milord. I know where to strike. She hesitated slightly. What of the prince?


    We kill his protectors tonight, including the hand that slew my sister. At some point, he must travel back to Middanhal. Spare him until then, Theodoric eximed with sudden savagery, that my own hand may plunge the knife into him! When he is isted and weakened, we strike.


    Yes, milord, Holwyn replied, put on a helmet and hurried after the other warriors. The jarl remained behind, watching them disappear into the night.


    ~~~~


    As darkness fell, the soldiers in camp had no reason to suspect this night would differ significantly from the previous. The defenders of the castle had not attempted any raids in weeks, being too few to risk losses in skirmishes. With the reinforcements, the camp seemed safer than ever. It did not have its own stockade, as the avable wood had been spent on encircling the castle or on siege engines, but deep ditches were dug to prevent cavalry from riding through, and the Hawks maintained enough scouts to spot any army of sufficient size to act as a relief force for the besieged. Their vignce did not allow them to notice a band of warriors counting only forty.


    In the dark, nothing gave away their position until the first handful were upon the sentries. Several Hawks went down within moments, though they managed to fulfil their duty and cry out for their brethren to take up arms. Rather than other Hawks, the rm was first heard by the kingthanes; the attackers were entering camp close to where the prince had chosen to raise his tent for the night. Thus, it came to battle between the thanes of Hardling and the thanes of Theodstan, neither side showing any leniency but letting the sword rule freely.


    Ulfrik was in the midst of the fighting, wielding his fearsome axe to great effect. Battling men wearing his former masters emblem did not seem to inhibit his lust for blood or slow the swing of his weapon. He felled one opponent with a roar and turned towards the next, a short warrior wielding only a sword. The de was bloodied; Richard had already imed his own victories. As the two men locked eyes, both charged the other.


    Ulfrik let his axe fly with a powerful blow against Richards midsection, impossible to parry and strong enough to bite deep into his flesh. The disguised knight crouched as he sprinted, rolling underneath the axe swing and in the position to stab his sword up into Ulfriks groin. Thetter gave a terrible scream, dropping his weapon. As Richard rose with fury in his eyes, pulling his sword out, he shed the de into the side of Ulfriks neck. Withdrawing the sword, blood poured out, and the thane sank mortally wounded to the ground.


    ~~~~


    A maelstrom of mayhem appeared across the camp. The attackers were not concentrated in one ce; some had spread out along the edge of the encampment, solely to cause chaos. Making use of what remained of cooking fires, they set tents aze and made it impossible for the defenders to discern what was truly happening. The Hawks grabbed their weapons and rallied, but in most ces, there were none to fight other than the mes quickly spreading, and they were forced to discard weapons and use water or wet nkets tobat the fire.


    With the mes keeping the Hawks upied along with the general confusion, none came to the kingthanes aid. Nearly equal in number to their enemies, the fighting was vicious and closely matched. Hardmar was not aware of this or anything else happening in camp; he was standing inside his tent, furthest from the entrance, with one of his guards in front of him. The only knowledge avable to him was the sounds of fighting and men dying in close vicinity.


    A man entered the tent quickly, and the thane nearly fell upon him with a drawn sword. Peace! eximed Konstans, showing his empty hands. It is only me! The thane rxed slightly, but kept his weapons ready.


    What are you doing here? Hardmar questioned.


    There is fighting all over camp, the dragonlord exined. I came here to help defend my prince.


    As if I would believe that, Hardmar sneered.


    Konstans hesitated. I have no thanes with me, he admitted. Unlike you, my prince.


    You came to hide, the youth dered with a contemptuous smile. It quickly faded as screams pierced the air.


    If need be, I will defend us both, the nobleman imed. He looked at the thane. Your brothers are dying out there. Why are you in here?


    Unlike you, his ce is here, Hardmar imed with a shrill voice. His remark was undercut by the sounds of weapons shing and more men dying.


    Of course, my prince, Konstans assented subserviently.


    If you are so concerned, you may go fight yourself, Hardmar dered with his customary sneer and picked up a cup, emptying it.


    My apologies for speaking out of turn, my prince. Allow me, Konstans spoke with a servile voice, picking up a bottle. As for you, he said to the remaining thane, make yourself useful and look outside. Tell us what you see.


    The warrior did as instructed, gazing outside. I see Isarn soldiers, several of them. Theyre fighting our boys. I think we are pushing them back.


    As the thane turned his back on the noblemen, Konstans poured the wine for Hardmars cup. cing the bottle on the nearby table, Konstans waited until the prince began to drink; then he drew his knife and plunged it into Hardmars neck.


    Blood and wine filling his throat, the prince was unable to make any sound. He fell towards the ground, but by then, Konstans had already withdrawn his knife, taken the four steps towards the unsuspecting thane, and done the same to him.


    Cutting the strings that held the tent opening drawn back, Konstans closed the tent and concealed the sight within. He used his knife several times more on both bodies inside, mutting them to make it seem like they suffered many wounds. Looking at the small candle that illuminated the tent, he reached out to tip it over. Slowly at first, then eagerly, the mes began to consume everything they touched.


    Using his knife for thest time, Konstans cut open an escape path in the back of the tent. The fires illuminated him briefly as he stepped out into the darkness before he was gone.


    ~~~~


    When the attack began, Kate had been sleeping underneath a cart serving as an improvised shelter. Looking out from between the wheels, she could see distant fires apanied by great noise, but there was no sign of men actually fighting near her. Gathering her courage, she crawled out and headed towards where Egil had found his ce to rest for the night. asionally, a Hawk hurried past her, but most people in this part of camp were not soldiers, but craftsmen orbourers, and they kept themselves hidden.


    Reaching her friend, Kate found him packing his belongings together. What are you doing? she whispered.


    He turned around startled. Dont sneak up on me! he chided her. I am running away.


    Are you mad?


    This camp is not safe, Egil told her. There will be more fighting. Besides, he added, I dont want to be the princes prisoner. I am leaving.


    Kate bit her lip. Fine. But I bet you didnt prepare any food. I know where its stored. Well get some and go.


    You shouldnte, Egil told her. Its dangerous where I am going.


    So is this camp. You just said that, Kate reminded him with raised eyebrows. Nowe on, lets not waste time!


    If youre sure. Lets go, Egil assented, and together, the scribe and kitchen girl made their flight.

 Chapter 95: The Wolves of Isarn

    Chapter 95: The Wolves of Isarn


    As morning came, the Hawks surveyed the damage. As it turned out, it was limited. Few of their people had been killed or even injured; in fact, most of them had not seen any fighting. Only the kingthanes had suffered; fifteen of their number had been in or grievously wounded. None of the attackers were found among the dead; either they had survived unscathed or been mindful to retrieve their dead upon their retreat.


    The assault had achieved its purpose nheless, for it became clear that their target had been the prince. His tent had burned down, and when the remaining kingthanes had discovered the mes, they had braved the fire to rescue Hardmar, only to find him dead. They had saved his body and that of the nearby thanes from the mes, which was all the aid they could give. Both the prince and the thane bore many injuries, suggesting they had been overwhelmed. Konstans had been among the first to arrive, examining the in and exining all this to the thanes and Hawks close by.


    I will bring the news to Middanhal myself, the dragonlord dered. The kingthanes may follow at their own pace to bring the dead home. However, this dastardly attack by cowards too fearful to face us in daylight must be avenged. Captain, he continued, looking at the leader of the Red Hawks, search the area. No doubt the savages that serve in Isarns army will be nearby. Find them all and eradicate them, hemanded.


    Yes, milord, the captain promised. He wasted no time organising this, sending out scouts and arraying soldiers into skirmishing bands; soon, the Hawks were scouring the countryside while Konstans rode swiftly back to the capital, bearing news that death had befallen yet another heir.


    ~~~~


    Less than twenty miles away, the army of Isarny encamped. Exercising caution, they had outriders scouting the area; they returned with reports of being attacked by Red Hawks. Soon, it seemed evident to the captains of Isarn that as feared. These negotiations were simply a ruse to lure them into battle.


    The Hawk scouts, meanwhile, returned eagerly with news that a force of Isarn soldiers had marched close to their own camp, measuring some two thousand in strength. The captain of the mercenaries summoned his lieutenants for a war council. With an army ten thousand strong, the Hawks did not fear an open attack by a force so inferior in numbers; the danger, as some pointed out, was in continued nightly raids destroying their supplies and making it untenable to maintain the siege. Or, another argued, if this relief force was allowed to break through the palisades and reinforce the defenders of Castle Grenwold with both men and provisions, it could prolong the siege greatly. As their contract with Jarl Vale stated, letting an enemy significantly reinforce a besieged castle meant they forfeited a great deal of the pay owed, and their future pay for continuing the siege would be reduced. While the Hawks did not fear an attack against their main army, it was impossible to protect the palisade works everywhere at all times against the Isarn force present in the field.


    The captain considered and made his decision, marching out with more than five thousand Hawks to punish Isarn for approaching so close. It took them an hours march to reach their enemy; by then, it waste afternoon. Mostmanders would consider it toote in the day to start a battle, but several things spoke in favour of the Hawks fighting now. They were far more numerous, allowing them to envelop the Isarn ranks as soon as battle began. The terrain was t, affording no advantage to the enemy; although there were hills directly west of the field, the Isarn army had not had time to array themselves upon it, which would have significantly strengthened their position.


    If battle was not fought today, the Isarn army might retreat out of reach or be allowed to take formation upon the hills; either of these possibilities would make it far more difficult to uphold the siege of Castle Grenwold. With these arguments presented, the captain of the Hawks acquiesced to his battle-thirsty lieutenants and gave the order to attack.


    ~~~~


    Once it became clear that fighting was inevitable, both sides presented themselves in battle lines and approached their enemy. Neither had cavalry to speak of nor archers, making this an engagement of infantry alone. The Hawks in their dark green coats were a terrible sight as their numbers filled the horizon; their ranks were far deeper than Isarns, yet their lines easily extended beyond their opponents to either side. With hope of victory dim, Athelstanmanded his men to storm forward in an attempt to breach the Hawks centre; could this be achieved, the near certain defeat might be avoided.


    Led by Isenhart and Athelstan themselves, the men of Isarn followed with roaring battle lust into the lines of the Hawks. With the jarl, his brother, and his thanes spearheading the charge, it was a formidable fighting force consisting of the best warriors in the jarldom.


    The ranks of the Hawks proved too deep. Despite their best efforts, Isarn could not punch through. The enemy captain, acutely aware of this danger, sent his reserves to reinforce his centre, ensuring that the lines would not break. Slowly, Isenhart and his men were pressed back. Their Nordsteel armour served them well to diminish the losses inflicted upon them, but nothing could protect against overwhelming numbers.


    Sunset was only a few hours away when there was a sudden turn. From the west, thousands of Isarn troops rushed forward into battle, led by Athelbold and Eumund. In this moment, Athelstans strategy became clear. He had used half his forces as bait, luring the Hawks into battle. His army seemed under strength and caught on t terrain; easy to deal with if done so now, but promising to be nuisance if allowed to escape and remain in the region. In their eagerness to fight, the Hawks had not scouted the area thoroughly, and they fell prey to the soldiers that had been hiding behind the western hills.


    The Hawks superior numbers were for naught. The Isarn reinforcements hit them in the nk, and their own reserves had already been spent to support their centre. Their nk disintegrated under the attack. Soon, it became apparent that defeat was inevitable. As their right nk fell apart, their captain ordered a retreat of the remaining forces.


    The setting sun saved what was left of the Hawks; with darkness falling, Athelstan ceased any pursuit of the fleeing enemy. It would too easily descend into disorder, making it man against man rather than army against army, and the Hawks were still near equal in numbers despite their losses. A chaotic chase might turn against Isarn, causing them to suffer as many dead as they might inflict.


    Even though the Hawks were allowed to flee, their defeat was indisputable. As his men cheered, Athelstan stood on the bloodstained grass under fallen bodies and fallen arms, victor of yet another battlefield.


    ~~~~


    Late in the night, the Isarn army returned to its camp, bringing wounded and what spoils of war could be taken with them. Some of the soldiers remained at the battlefield, keeping watch and protecting the defensive position upon the hills to deter any further fighting while the northerners were unready; Athelbold and Eumund stayed behind tomand, whereas Isenhart and Athelstan returned to camp.


    Thetter seemed unburdened, his reputation restored. The jarl was pensive, almost brooding in the dark. As they strode into the middle of camp, Gerhard came running out to meet them, followed by Jerome. What happened? asked the young prince. How did ite to battle? Why did you not negotiate?


    Lord Konstans had other ns, it seems, Athelstan remarked. Prince Gerhard, I fear you must consider yourself our prisoner for the time being. While I have not forgotten that you secured our release


    As I suspected from the start, this was all a trap, Isenhart interrupted. There is only one reward. He drew his sword.


    Isenhart! Athelstan called out sharply, reaching out for his brother, but in vain. Before anyone could stop the jarl, he plunged his de into Gerhards chest. Blood sprung forth like a fountain, and the princey dead within moments. Isenhart turned his eyes on Jerome. Brother, Athelstan shouted, finally reaching him to ce a hand on his arm. We will need a messenger to tell Middanhal their devious ns failed them, he exined, gesturing with his head towards the dead prince. Let it be this man, he added, now motioning towards Jerome, who freed your sons from prison.


    Contempt was on Isenharts face, but he finally relented, lowering his sword. This once. Let him never appear in my sight again.


    Of course, Athelstan promised.


    As the jarl stalked away, Jerome fell on his feet before Athelstan. Thank you, milord, he stammered.


    This was unfortunate, Athelstan admitted, ncing at Gerhards corpse. I do not wish it said that the sons of Isarn are ungrateful or repay kindness with death. You saved our lives, and so yours is safe. But this I do wish to be said, Athelstan continued. Do not treat wolves like sheep. Your masters have tasted the fangs of Isarn today. They will so again. Ry that message to the men you serve.


    Yes, milord, Jerome agreed anxiously, standing up. Soon after, he was escorted out of the camp to make his way south.

 Chapter 96: A Bloody Mark

    Chapter 96: A Bloody Mark


    Two youths, not too old to be called children, travelled across northern Adalrik. The food they had brought with them from camp had been devoured after a few days. Instead, they foraged for berries and wild fruit, mushrooms and even roots on asion when hunger was worst.


    Egil, were far from camp now, and we havent seen any soldiers, Kate said, walking alongside him. Dont you think we should go east? And then we can turn south.


    Not yet. They were between three and four weeks north of Middanhal. Ahead of them for many milesy only pastures for sheep, oxen, and horses until grass eventually gave way to wood. We need to go further.


    Are you sure were not just walking in circles?


    Egil made a gesture with his head upwards. The sun is to our left. Itste afternoon. That means north is straight ahead.


    Kate drank from the container they had managed to bring along from camp. Well need more water soon.


    Theres bound to be a stream somewhere, Egil considered. If it runs in the right direction, we can just follow it, and well have enough water.


    Until we have to turn east. Right?


    Right.


    ~~~~


    The next day, fortune smiled upon them. It was Kate who was alerted to the sound of a brook; they followed her ear and came upon a stream of water, allowing them to drink their fill.


    There we are, Egil remarked. Theres probably things to eat that grow around here too.


    Well keep our eyes open, Kate nodded. Id give a years pay for an hour inside the orchard in the Citadel, she added with a whining tone. Apples, pears, plums


    Stop! Youre making me hungry, Egil grumbled.


    You better keep your eyes open, then, she teased. Make sure you find enough for two! He did not reply but started walking instead, following the stream. Egil? Kate said as she caught up to him. Is something wrong?


    Were running for our lives, he pointed out.


    We were, she corrected him. Nobodys chasing us. Nobodys got cause to. I think were safe.


    Still, lets be alert.


    Of course. You just seem in a troubled mood.


    Ill be fine once we get further away from camp. He increased his pace, and they continued in silence.


    ~~~~


    Egil, we should turn back. Kate had repeated this point throughout the day, receiving varying responses. It was more than a week after they had fled the camp.


    Wevee all this way. We might as well continue, Egil mumbled, sounding weary.


    Where to? Ive seen the maps, there is nothing this far north! Kate stopped and stared at him. Theres nothing here! They stood innds near barren except for brown-coloured grass.


    There is the forest, he pointed out, nodding ahead. In the far distance could be seen the rising trees of the Alfskog.


    So?


    So I am going there, Egil told her and began walking again.


    Are you mad? Kate ran up to stand in front of him. You cant enter the forest!


    Well, thats what I intend to. He moved around her.


    But youll die! Nobody enters the northern woods and returns, Kate nearly yelled, catching up to walk by his side.


    Ive done it before, Egil dered.


    You never told me that.


    I was asked not to tell anyone.


    Im not anyone, she told him with a sour voice.


    Well, I am going there.


    Egil, thats stupid. We should turn around and go back to Middanhal. Find a way to help Master Quill.


    Kate! He stopped to look at her. I cant exin because I dont know how. I wouldnt understand if someone tried to tell me. So youll just have to trust me. You can wait by the treeline, and Ille back for you.


    No, thats not the way we y. Kate raised a finger to put him in his ce. You keep trying to leave me behind. If youre going inside to die, so am I.


    With that attitude, what could go wrong, Egil mumbled, but he began walking again as did she.


    ~~~~


    It was nightfall when they reached the edge of the forest. With the sun setting, the wood was pitch ck, and nothing could be spied past the first trees. So? Kate asked. What now?


    We enter the forest, Egil told her. Taking a deep breath, Kate began to walk forward. Wait! he called out. Were not ready yet. He took out the small knife in his belt.


    What do you mean?


    We need protection, he told her, rolling up his sleeve.


    From who?


    From whom. He squinted in the darkness, looking at his arm.


    Shut up and tell me.


    That contradicts itself. He touched his skin with the tip of his knife gently.


    Just tell me what youre doing!


    The forest has protectors. I need to make sure they wont attack us. He inhaled, exhaled, and cut into his own skin.


    Egil!


    Its fine, he gasped. I know what I am doing. He traced a strange pattern with the knife, frowning in concentration. There. Done.


    What does this mean?


    Apparently it means Im not to be killed. Egil cleaned his knife, sheathed it, and wiped the blood from his arm with his hand. Blood is disgusting, he remarked. Im d Im not a warrior. He made sure the sleeve would note loose and fall down to conceal the bloody rune.


    How does this work?


    Youll see. Lets go, he told her, and together, they entered the Alfskog.


    They had to walk slowly; there were no paths for walking other than what the animals might have trodden by chance. Roots asionally rose from the ground, causing them to trip, and they soon held on to each other tightly for support. Owls could be heard, performing the hunt; likewise their prey, such as swift little forest mice, could be noticed rustling through the undergrowth.


    A squirrel passed by not far from them, giving them a curious gaze before hurrying onwards. As they approached a clearing with a smallke illuminated by moonlight, they spotted several deer drinking; as the pair came closer, the animals fled.


    The boy and girl walked over to drink greedily from the water and fill their skins. Standing up and turning around, they saw an archer pointed a nocked arrow at them.


    It took a moment for them to realise the threat; even in the moonlight, the Elf was in nearplete concealment with the forest behind him. Had he not stepped forward into the clearing, they would never have seen him. His eyes, strange in colour and without pupils, stared at them intensely. The arrow on his bow looked sharp.


    Here! it burst from Egil, who held his arm forward. Elf-friend, I am an Elf-friend! By his side, Kate stood paralysed from shock or fear. lfwine, he added, do you understand me? lfwine, like the old tongue!


    The scout scowled and shouted something in his own speech. Another scout appeared as from thin air; she also had an arrow at the ready and pointed at the pair.


    Do you know lfwine? The word or the man? Egil asked.


    One of the Elves yelled at him, and the boy stopped. The woman lowered her bow, but her disposition did not grow gentler. She kicked Egil behind the kneecap, making him fall to his knees and keeping him immobile. Grabbing his wounded arm, she examined it briefly and exchanged further angry words with the other Elf.


    With little consideration, she pulled him up to stand. The man gestured for them to move, adding a string of sounds like a thunderous waterfall. With dread in their eyes, Kate and Egil began to walk, followed closely by their captors.


    ~~~~


    They walked through the night. The sun could be felt faintly through the foliage, but it did little to disperse the cold that lingered in the forest or the fear evident in Kate and Egils demeanour. Whenever they attempted to speak, the Elves silenced them, either with words or a smack of the bow staff on their heads. They soon learned to remain quiet and focus on the difficult march through the thick woods.


    It was finally starting to feel warmer when the Elves halted the pair; one scout kept them under guard while the other disappeared. Words were still forbidden, as the children quickly learned when they tried to speak; there was nothing to do but wait. Eventually, the other scout returned with several other Elves. The others were d in the same manner, carrying the same weapons, and a heated argument erupted between them. More than once, Egils arm was examined with little regard for hisfort. Each time he tried to interject or say a word, he was silenced with a p.


    Finally, the Elves seemed to reach a decision. Rope was collected from somewhere and used to bind Kate and Egils wrists; appearing thin, almost frail, the twine nheless held them tight. Kate pulled on her hands a few times to no avail, and a smack on top of her head taught her to stop.


    With a push, the two captives were told to start moving. No less than four scouts apanied them, leading them through the forest while keeping a sharp watch on both the children. They walked at a quick pace through the rough terrain; with their bnce impaired from having their hands tied, the prisoners stumbled more than once. Every time, one of the Elves was close by to grab hold and keep them standing up, pushing them onwards. On asion, the scouts allowed for a brief rest, giving Egil and Kate some water; they only received food at the end of the day. As they had not slept the previous night, both children fell asleep immediately once given the chance. When they woke next morning, food and water was provided once more; soon after, another days journey began. In this manner, they travelled for nearly a week through the Alfskog.


    ~~~~


    Both the youths were exhausted after seven days of journeying through the forest. They received only enough provisions and rest to keep them on their feet; if the keen eyes and sharp arrows of the Elves were not enough to dissuade attempts of flight, the sheer exertion forced upon them banished any thoughts of escape.


    Their pace only lessened when they reached some kind ofrger clearing, where thendscape sloped upwards ahead of them. One scout kicked both the prisoners behind the knees to make them fall down. With further motions and words conveying the impression that they better not move, three scouts remained behind to watch while thest disappeared swiftly.


    Time passed while they had their faces against the forest floor. The only sounds were the trickling of a stream in the distance, the wind rustling the leaves, and a bird chirping about its territory. Their watchers, standing behind them, could neither be seen nor heard.


    At length, there was movement ahead. Both children raised their heads as best they could. The one scout was returning, apanied by another. He was also an Elf, yet he seemed nothing like his brethren. It was not due to anything apparent, such as their individual heights, which were near even. Nor was it because of how they were clothed; their leather armour and his woven tunic of linen were both the attire to be expected of people living in a forest vige. It was his very presence that stood in contrast to the scouts. Speed was in their every movement to the point where they seemed as skittish as the deer that roamed the woods; their eyes constantly darted in every direction, and their fingers fiddled with the smoothened wood of their bow or the soft feathers upon their arrows.


    The other Elf was nothing like this. He walked with dignified steps, careful in each movement whether it was done by his feet, his hands, or his head. He breathed deeply, and the rising of his chest could be seen each time. He was dressed like a simple viger, yet exudedmand like a prince. He gave his attention to the surroundings as he pleased, while both the scouts and the children found their eyes drawn to him at all times. He bore no weapons, not even a small knife in his belt to cut thread or meat, and he seemed average of build; nheless, a sense of danger surrounded him as it would a lion who feared nothing and gave all others cause for dread.


    Rise, hemanded briefly as he reached Kate and Egil. He spoke the Mearcspeech with strange pronunciation, but it was understandable. They quickly did as he told them. Show. He pointed at Egils bloodied arm. Egilplied. With a strong grip, the Elf took hold of Egils arm to look closer. Anger began to cloud his delicate features. You make mockery of symbols dear to us, he proimed with an irate voice. There has not been Elf-friend for a thousand years. With ignorance you paint yourself, he sneered, pushing Egils arm back against the boy. You have gone too far. As with all your kind, death is your fate.


    Please! Egil begged. It wasnt me who did this, it was lfwine! Hes like you!


    We havent done anything, Kate protested, her voice breaking. You cant do this to us!


    Silence, the Elfmanded. Your borrowed words and false attempts to gain our trust will not avail you.


    I swear to you, lfwine gave me this mark! Hes an Elf like you! Please listen! Egil implored them. One of the scouts responded with a backhanded p across Egils face that made him tumble backwards. Some of the scouts grabbed each of the youths and began dragging them away while their lord turned to leave. lfwine, he is a friend of Godfrey, you must know him!


    The stately Elf stopped dead in his tracks. He shot an angry look over his shoulder at Egil before giving a briefmand in the Elven tongue. The scouts dropped their captives, who fell to the ground yet again. The other Elf stalked away with forceful steps, leaving Kate and Egil to exchange mystified nces.


    Moment after moment passed in anguish for the pair; as before, each time they spoke, one of their guards interfered with a harsh response. There was nothing they could do but wait.


    ~~~~


    Eventually, the Elf returned, but not alone. By his side and engaged in a fierce argument with him walked lfwine. Egil gave a deep sigh of relief and sent a cautious smile to Kate. What lfwine and hispanion discussed, they could not understand. It was evidently a tense conversation that ended with lfwine remaining and the other Elf departing in anger.


    Walking up to the children, lfwine sent them an annoyed look. He dismissed the scouts curtly with a brief word; they bowed deeply and disappeared. You, lfwine simply spoke as Kate and Egil stood up, managing to pack a good amount of disdain into the word.


    lfwine, its me! Egil! the boy eximed happily.


    I am not an imbecile, the Elf retorted. I can see that. I do question your intelligence, as you have decided to stroll into the dragons den and beg to be devoured.


    Egil, whats going on? asked Kate.


    I made the mark! Egil defended himself. He held out his arm. Like you did!


    A sneer went across the Elfs face. Those ragged lines are closer to an insult than anything else. No wonder my cousin was incensed.


    Thats your cousin?


    Egil, who is this?


    Enough, lfwine dered. Your lives are spared. Leave immediately and never return.


    We cant, Egil imed. Were hundreds of miles from Middanhal. The two of us crossing the realm on our own? We wont make it.


    That is hardly my problem, the Elf replied dismissively.


    But how am I to help Godfrey as the Kings Quill if I am dead? Egil asked slyly.


    lfwine stared at him. You little fiend, he finally dered. He let out a sigh. Wait here. I mean that. Do not move one single step. He turned around and left with speed.


    Egil! Kate stamped her foot in the ground. Will you tell me whats going on?


    That was lfwine. He is an Elf, as you can see. Well, if you know how Elves look. I guess few people do, Egil rambled.


    How in Hels name do you know an Elf?


    Rememberst year when I went to Heohlond on an assignment for Master Quill? lfwine was the reason I left.


    I thought Elves lived in marshes, stealing babies or waying travellers, Kate frowned.


    I dont know about elsewhere, but the Elves in the Alfskog just kill anyone who enters the forest, Egil exined happily.


    Kate stared at him; then she punched him on the shoulder. You dimwit! You knew they were going to treat us this way?


    Egil let out a cry of pain. I didnt! They were supposed to treat us like friends. Thats what the mark was for. lfwine gave it to me, and it means that other Elves look on me as a friend.


    Is this how they treat their friends? Kate asked incredulously. No wonder they dont get visitors.


    Maybe I drew it wrong, Egil considered, examining his arm.


    So this is why we walked for weeks? So we could get threatened and dragged around with arrows pointed in our face? What a n, Egil.


    It was good thinking, he defended himself. lfwine is an Elven warrior! Well be safe all the way back to Middanhal now. It wasnt part of the n for them to threaten to kill us, he admitted, but it all worked out! Kate simply sent him a disbelieving stare.


    When lfwine returned, he was d for travelling with thick garments and a heavy cloak. A sword was strapped around his waist, and he had various other items packed away. As he reached hispanions, he sent Egil an angry nce, grabbing his hurt arm. You did not even clean this properly, he muttered, pouring some water over the skin and cleaning the dried blood away, followed by a quick bandage. Time to leave, he dered. You will walk at the pace I set. We will not rest until I decide. You will notin about weariness, hunger, or anything else. In fact, you will be silent throughout the entire trip. Do you understand? They nodded. Good. He began walking with the boy and girl right behind him like a pair of dogs.


    Master lfwine, are you really an Elf?


    Of course he is, I told you as much.


    Gods help me.

 Chapter 97: Blighting the Song

    Chapter 97: Blighting the Song


    Why are your eyes that way?


    Why are yours not? lfwine snapped. They had left the Alfskog some days ago, and the barrage of questions had been relentless. Hel take me, it was bad enoughst time with just one of you.


    I dont think he is in a mood for questions, Egil rted with a loud whisper.


    He never is, so theres no point in waiting, Kate countered. Why do Elves swear by Hel like we do? she asked loudly. lfwine increased the pace.


    They moved through the emptynds that constituted the north of Adalrik. On asion, they encountered paltry flocks of meagre sheep, but they kept their distance. Even though lfwine had brought his blindfold, he preferred to avoid outsidepany that would force him to disguise his true nature by hiding his eyes and sword.


    While he had sess during the day with his strategy of marching too fast to allow the youths any questions, he fell prey when they made camp at night. If the area seemed deste and firewood was avable, he built a fire, suffering enquiries ranging from his method of making a campfire to whether he lived in a house or inside a tree.


    His usual response was to roll up his cloak like a nket and turn his back to them, falling asleep as quickly as possible. This led to a routine each night where they would continue to talk or bicker among themselves for a while before eventually following his example.


    ~~~~


    As none of them knew they of thend well, they simply steered by the sun, setting a course south and for the most part avoiding other people. Staying away from the main roads slowed their progress; a week after leaving the Alfskog at some point, they reached a hilly area that added further hardship to their journey.


    I need a break soon, Kate dered, out of breath. Egil did not speak, but his appearance gave the impression that he was of the same mind.


    lfwine did not look back, though he slowed his pace. It is barely past noon. You can walk for a while longer.


    Not much longer, Kate insisted. She and Egil were slogging some steps behind lfwine with their heads bowed down from weariness, staring at the grass underneath their feet. Because of this, they almost stumbled into the suddenly motionless Elf as they reached the top of a hill.


    Hey, Egil eximed as he nearly collided into Kate; his mouth remained open, but no further words came. Ahead of them stretched a meadow that in peaceful times would have been lush with grass. Now, it had been trampled by thousands of feet, and a brown, rusty colour had dyed the vegetation.


    What happened here? asked Kate with a low voice.


    There must have been a battle, lfwine surmised. Over there, he nodded, you can see where they buried the bodies. The children strained their eyes to see small mounds of loose dirt; there were scores of them if not hundreds.


    Who fought? asked Egil.


    Who can tell? lfwine shrugged and began walking down the hill.


    Should we be here? whispered Kate.


    There is no reason to linger, the Elf granted, but simply passing through should not cause offence to living or dead.


    If you say so, Kate replied doubtfully.


    Walking down the slope, many details were revealed before their eyes. Pieces of broken des or armour, shields destroyed beyond repair or use, fabric torn and discoloured. I wonder why they fought on the tnd, lfwine mumbled.


    How so? asked Kate.


    You would think at least one of themanders would have positioned their army upon the hills to gain that advantage, the Elf spected. No arrows or marks left by hooves. This was an engagement of foot soldiers.


    Youre so good at noticing, the kitchen girl spoke with admiration.


    He is, Egil nodded eagerly. It was the same in Heohlond. He could deduce so much.


    They are just simple observations, lfwine told them modestly. Besides, it is of no concern to us. We should leave this ce of death before night falls. He picked up the pace, and the youths hurried to keep up with him.


    ~~~~


    Camp that evening was made in unusual silence; neither the girl nor the boy spoke while lfwine struck fire, warding off the darkness for the night. They had all made themselves a ce to sleep when Kate finally spoke. Master lfwine, did you ever fight in a battle like that?


    Unlike previous nights, this was not followed up immediately by another question; both the children simply stared at the Elf waiting. He cleared his throat. I did. Many times. Gods grant I never have to again.


    What did you fight for? Egil asked.


    I fought We fought lfwines voice trailed off, but hispanions did not interrupt him. We defended ourselves.


    Silence followed until it became clear he would not add to his answer. Did you win?


    We won and we lost. There is nothing left. He exhaled deeply.


    How do you mean? she questioned him.


    If you are in the wastnds with nothing but a water skin and meet someone who tries to take it away, lfwine exined hesitantly. If you fend him off, but spill all the water in the process, did you win or did you lose?


    That sounds like you lost, Kate contemted.


    I think so as well.


    Is that why you live in the Alfskog? Egil wondered.


    lfwine closed his eyes. We should sleep. We have a long way ahead of us yet. The children looked at him, but when he did not stir or speak again, they did as he had done.


    ~~~~


    To reduce the time spent on gathering food, lfwine decided to enter a vige on their way, bartering for food with the few coins Egil and Kate had avable. Putting on his blindfold, the Elf yed the beggar escorting his young kinsfolk to other rtives. Anxiety had touched the vigers after the battles and armies in the vicinity, but they saw no threat from an old, blind man and two children. In fact, they eagerly questioned the travellers for news; when curiosity had been satisfied and food traded for silver, the threepanions were given leave to sleep in a barn with a roof and hay for a bed.


    Whats that noise? asked Kate. They had each found a ce to rest for the night, but the sound of small creatures scurrying about could be heard.


    Probably rats, Egil considered. There are plenty of them in an army camp. You get used to it.


    I dont want to get used to rats, she dered offended. If someone let rats live in the Citadel kitchens, theyd get a smacking, and rightfully so!


    This is a barn. Theres bound to be rats, Egil countered.


    I think its just one, but it sounds really big. Kate pulled her cloak tight around her. There!


    Where?


    Over there. I think. She bit her lip. Its hard to see in the dark, but there was definitely movement.


    Will you two be quiet, lfwine demanded.


    I just keep imagining that big rat crawling onto me while I sleep, Kateined.


    Now I am imagining it, Egil whined.


    The sound of tiny feet tripping through the hay could be heard, making both the children squirm and squeal. For gods sake! In the blink of an eye, lfwine sat up and flicked his wrist; his dagger flew through the air in the dark, impaling something against the wooden framework of the barn. Fetch my de, clean it, and go to sleep! hemanded of Egil, throwing the knife scabbard at the boy. With eyes darting between Kate and lfwine, Egil got up and moved over to where the Elfs dagger had struck. He found arge rat, impaled against the wall.


    ~~~~


    The younger travellers woke early in the morning as the oldest of theirpany held a hand to cover each of their mouths. Wake up, he whispered emphatically. Both children reacted by twitching and making mumbling sounds until they became aware of their surroundings and lfwine. Be quiet, hemanded in a low voice. Only when both of them were still did he remove his hands.


    Whats going on? Kate whispered.


    There are armed men in the square, lfwine exined, keeping his voice low. Twenty or so. They wear no emblems, so I suspect they are bandits rather than soldiers. Best we put some distance between them and us.


    They cant be looking for any of us, can they? asked Egil.


    And we dont have anything worth stealing, Kate added.


    Regardless, the Elf spoke impatiently, let us not wait to find out their motives. Get up, hurry!


    What about the townspeople? asked Egil as he stood up.


    Since they live here, I imagine they prefer to stay, lfwine replied.


    But if theyre bandits, theyll take what these people have. Probably all their food, and they might starvee winter, Kate objected, brushing some hay away from her dress.


    How can we leave with the food they sold us if their own food will get stolen? asked Egil with wide eyes.


    Merchants do it all the time, lfwine said dismissively. It is called the principle of bartering. No more talk, get going!


    But youre an Elf, Kate argued. Neither of the children had moved one inch. You can bewitch people, cant you?


    If I could, would I bother carrying around a sword? lfwine hissed. This is not something to debate!


    You can fight, Egil pointed out. Youre a better warrior than any of them. You killed all those brigands that were after us in Heohlond.


    I knew it! Kate dered eagerly. You got witching powers!


    I fought maybe six or so, not twenty, lfwine retorted. I have no armour but this leather tunic, and you want me to fight twenty men on my own? One arrow in the right ce and I am done for. Did you bring me all this way just to get me killed?


    I think you can do it, Egil proimed.


    For what purpose? There must be scores of these bands roaming thend. This is what happens when wars drag on and armies lose battles, lfwine informed them. Men get desperate, and with no tool or trade but des and battle, they turn to banditry. It will not make a difference if I fight them.


    But  Egil began to say.


    Silence! Now follow me, lfwinemanded, and he left the barn.


    Outside stood two armed men. They had been checking the outlying buildings, making sure every viger was ounted for. At the sight of the travellers, they grinned at each other. Got ourselves a few more chickens hiding in the coop!


    Theirughter died as lfwine turned his eyes on them. One of them raised his axe while the other fumbled to pull a sword from its scabbard. The Elf was faster. His knife was in his hand one moment, embedded into the axemans chest the next; by the time the other brigand had pulled his sword out, the dagger sat in his eye.


    Kate and Egil crept forward as lfwine cleaned his weapon, staring at the bodies. Theyll notice they are dead, and then theylle after us, Egil pointed out. If we leave now, well be hunted.


    Unless someone stops them now, Kate added.


    lfwine stared at them. Seven and Eighth, you will be the death of me, he swore, pulling off his cloak with angry movements. You will both stay here and stay hidden. Do you understand? he asked sharply. They both nodded vigorously. Clenching his jaw, lfwine adjusted his sword belt and walked away with forceful steps. They waited a few moments before sneaking after him.


    In the vige centre, a band of armed men were gathered. The vigers were forming a circle around them, but not of their own volition; threats and rough treatment had called them to assemble. Its a simple matter, one of the ruffians exined. My men need food for a week. Give us that, and well be off with no further harm. Some of his men eyed the women of the vige, gainsaying his promise that the harassment could be at an end so easily. Though we require more than simply food to subsist. Bring out your silver in a pile before me. Ill let you know when your payment for our protection is sufficient.


    The vigers exchanged nces. If you want food, well give you what we can spare. But with the taxes we have to pay, theres nary a silver coin in all the vige, an elderly man imed, ostensibly the town alderman.


    The bandits gave a coarseughter, and their leader stepped towards the old man, who stood next to a young woman and a small boy no more than five. Your daughter and grandchild, Im guessing, he told the alderman. Or your sons wife, perhaps. It makes little difference to me. He picked up the boy in his arms. His mother reached out in vain with a desperate expression upon seeing her child in the ouws arms; the old man ced his hand on her shoulder to keep her back. Just as this boy means little to me, the bandit added. He walked a few steps back towards his own men, making him more visible to the other vigers as well. But I imagine he means a lot to you, he continued with a louder voice, ncing at the other peasants. Is the silver you have hidden away worth more to you than this boys life?


    Enough. The word was spoken calmly; thanks to the silence that had already fallen onto the crowd, it was easily heard. Bandits and vigers turned as one to see the speaker. A tall wanderer, d only in leather with a sword and knife in his belt, stood calmly awaiting their gaze. Upon seeing his eyes that had but one colour in them, the ouws retreated several steps, opening a path between him and their leader.


    Its a ghoul, someone whispered.


    A fiend! another dered.


    lfwine strode forward without fear through the pack of bandits until he stood a few paces away from their leader. I have killed two of your men already. Leave now, or I will kill you all.


    Chief, what should we do?


    Hes a fell creature, chief, lets bolt!


    Silence, you dogs! And you, whatever demon you may be. While he spoke, the bandit put the small boy down on the ground, but kept one hand on his head; the other hand pulled out a knife. Not understanding what was happening, the boy began to cry, looking at his mother. Drop your weapons or he gets it. Encouraged by their chiefs example, some of the other brigands moved to circle around lfwine.


    With his left hand, the Elf pulled his dagger from its sheath, turned it between his fingers to hold it by the tip, andunched it at the leader of the ouws. It happened within the blink of an eye. Although not bnced for throwing, lfwines aim was close enough that the dagger embedded itself into the unprotected throat of its target. The chief dropped his own knife and his hold on the boy, clutching the wound with both hands while sinking to the ground.


    There was the briefest of moments while the ouws realised this turn of events and what it meant; outraged, they charged wielding de, axe, or club.


    lfwine was one step ahead of them. He leapt forward, crouched low, picked up the small boy into his left arm, and held him close to his own body while his right hand drew his sword. Strange wavesy in patterns along the de, and the leather strip that was wound around the pommel came loose to reveal a red gemstone; few if any took note of this as the bandits closed in from all sides.


    Clutching the boy closely, lfwine stayed in constant movement. Most attacks he evaded, asionally letting his leather protect against a weak blow. Each time his own sword struck, it removed an enemy. An axe swung out; he crouched and shed its wielder across both ankles. A club came against his head, far too small a target to hit reliably; sidestepping, lfwine cut the club-wielding hands off at the wrists. Arrows flew from a few archers in the back, but with their own people crowding around the target, it was impossible to aim at the Elf and hope to hit him. A dagger was plunged at him, too close to evade; lfwine turned his body so the de did not stab into him, but nced against his leather. Turning his sword around, he used the pommel to strike his attackers chin, sending him t on his back.


    When the first five meny dead or dying and lfwine still stood with battle fury ignited in his strange eyes, the bandits changed strategy. Some held onto their weapons, some threw them on the ground, but they all chose to flee, scattering in every direction. They left the Elf standing bruised and battered with a ring of corpses surrounding him; a bloody god of war in the midst of the carnage he had caused.


    Breathing heavily and bleeding lightly from small cuts and gashes, lfwine finally stood still. He gazed around the vige square with a perplexed look, as if it took him a moment to understand the enemy had fled. The boy no longer cried in his arm, appearing to be in shock; specks of blood were sprayed across his face. Lowering his sword and rxing his stance, lfwine put the child down on the ground and took two steps away. The mother hurried over to grab her son tightly, looking up at the Elf with fearful eyes.


    Looking at the vigers, they all mirrored her countenance and stared at the Elf, whose odd eyes stared back. You should keep those and learn to use them, he dered, pointing with his sword at the weapons left behind by the brigands. Grabbing cloth from a pouch on his belt, he stalked away while cleaning his de before sheathing it, leaving the shocked vigers to gather their wits.


    From their vantage point behind one of the houses, Kate and Egil hurried to cross the vige and catch up with lfwine. You did it! Egil dered triumphantly.


    I did. Do you have our possessions? We leave immediately, he informed them, not slowing his pace for one moment.


    Theyre in the barn, Kate told him, struggling to walk as fast as him. Why are we hurrying away? You just saved those people!


    Tomorrow, they may decide they fear the fiend more than those bandits, lfwine exined. Best we have some distance between us and them, should that happen.


    They did not argue further, but quickly collected their few belongings from the barn and set a course south. They had not walked more than a few hundred paces from the vige when a voice behind them called out. Wait! Turning around, they saw the mother of the small boy hastily approach them, clutching something in her hands. As she reached them, she extended the item towards Egil, who stood closest. Thank you, she mumbled. As soon as Egil epted it, she hastened away.


    Opening the cloth bundle, they saw that it was half a cheese wheel, bits of sausage, and some apples. See? Kate smiled. They are grateful.


    Yes, had I known my reward would be a morsel of cheese, I never would have hesitated throwing myself into the fray against twenty men, lfwine muttered sourly.


    I want one of the apples, Egil dered.


    Less talk, more walk. The trio continued south.


    ~~~~


    When it became time to make camp for the night, lfwine forbade fire; they could not risk attracting any of the unsavoury folk that were marauding the area. So they sat in darkness, the children staring at the Elf as he examined his minor injuries and ensured they were clean.


    I have never seen a sword like yours, Kate spoke with curious eyes at lfwine.


    How could you have seen it today when I bade you both stay away from the fighting, he retorted without looking up.


    They children exchanged guilty looks. Its sea-steel, isnt it? I saw the high kings crown once before he died. It had the same patterns, Egil exined.


    What is it to you, lfwine muttered.


    That sword must be worth a kings ransom, Egil continued. How did you end up with it?


    The smith gave it to me.


    Kate and Egil sat with eyes nearly bulging out. The smith?


    The Elf breathed slowly. Six items he made after unlocking the secret of the sea. A knife to test his prowess and four swords to follow, given to our champions, lfwine spoke almost like a chant, still keeping his attention on himself. Yet when he realised that his greatest work had no purpose but to kill, he took to the forge onest time and made a helmet for protection, giving it to our king that he might never die. It did not work.


    That reminds me of something, Kate considered. Swords made from the sea. The swords of sea with count of four, she continued. Thats from the Song of Sigvard!


    That may be. I have never heard it, lfwine replied, finishing his examination of his wounds.


    It tells the story of thest battle in the Great War, Egil exined. The swords of sea were wielded by the Brothers Swordsmen, Alfbrand and Alfmod. Did you know them?


    A wry smile yed around lfwines lips before it faded away. They were cousins, not brothers.


    Are the legends true? it burst from Kate.


    That depends, what are the legends?


    Alfbrand was the desinger, and Alfmod was called the Dragonyer. Wasnt he?


    lfwines fingertips ran over the ruby in the pommel of his sword. There was enough moonlight to illuminate his shape, but they could not discern his face. Yes.


    Did he do it? Did he really kill a dragon?


    Yes.


    The children stared at him with open mouths. How?


    The Elf sat with closed eyes. He ran his hand over his forehead as if wiping away sweat, though the night was cold. Fire and jaw, scales and w, he muttered to himself, suddenly opening his eyes to stare at the children. Be thankful, you little fools, that you live in a time where all the dragons are gone. He grabbed the water skin and drank greedily from it.


    What does desinger mean? Kate dared to ask after brief silence.


    lfwine exhaled. Alfbrand was the greatest champion of our people. When he moved his de, it was a song made flesh to behold. There was never a swordsman like him under the sun, and there never shall be. Noticing the children staring at him in wonder, he cleared his throat. In any case, they were warriors, and we should not regard the skill of killing with such awe. I do know that neither Alfmod nor Alfbrand took delight in battle.


    What about you? Arent you d that youre a good warrior? You saved that vige, Egil argued.


    lfwine stared away from the children. It is an ill deed to kill a child of the Alfather, whatever the cause.


    Your people wanted to kill us just because we entered the Alfskog, Egil pointed out.


    We have grown hardened, lfwine admitted. We consider it bleeding the patient to ensure his survival.


    I dont see how killing those bandits was a bad thing. Now they wont ever hurt anyone again, Kate added.


    You do not understand, the Elf told them. Death such as the battlefield we passed through is a blight upon the Song. One mans violence may not cause much disruption, but that of thousands? He held his fingertips against his brow as if suffering from headache. I can barely hear it. Its absence is like a pressure against my mind that will not relent.


    The children looked at each other confused. Master lfwine, Kate asked cautiously, are you hurt?


    He looked up at them. I am a man in the wastnd who killed five others to defend my water skin, spilling it all. He sat upright with a start, blinking a few times. I am fine. Merely thoughts of old battles resurfacing. Time to sleep. Hey down, rolling his cloak around himself. The children gesticted and mouthed words to each other, silently discussing, until they both admitted ignorance with a shrug andy down as well.


    ~~~~


    At dawn, illuminated by the sunlight, lfwine seemed his normal self. We avoid viges in the future, he dered to hispanions. We will have to gather food for the remainder of the journey. The children, who in contrast were less talkative than usual, epted his decision by nodding. In silence, they broke camp.


    They were about three weeks from the capital if they had travelled in a straight line, but because of lfwines caution, their journey was greatly extended. They had to spend an hour or longer on most days foraging for food; without a bow, hunting was impossible. Furthermore, they could not follow the brooks and rivers they encountered, as viges and towns inevitably were settled by these streams; because of this, they had to spend further time finding water. Lastly, progressing south meant entering more poptednds. As their surroundings grew lush, so did viges, fields, and herds grazing on green pastures.


    On asion, the children attempted to ask lfwine further questions about his de, his past, or the Brothers Swordsmen; he ignored them entirely, refusing to yield even the briefest answer. Day after day, they trotted southwards with Kate and Egil talking among themselves and lfwine a few steps ahead.


    Their strategy turned out to be effective if slow; travelling for five weeks away from roads, they had no further encounters since the vige. Eventually, the twin summits of Valmark and Wyrmpeak grew in size to loom ahead of them; between those mountainsy Middanhal and their destination.

 Chapter 98: The Last Prince

    Chapter 98: The Last Prince


    Of all those that went north, Konstans and a few retainers were the first to return to Middanhal. He had a bath drawn for him in the dragonlords private quarters and was in the hot water when his wife strode into the room. Forgive me, milord, Eolf stuttered, trailing behind her. I tried to exin you were upied.


    I am his wife, you dolt!


    It is fine, Eolf, Konstans waved him away. The servant bowed and left them alone.


    Mathilde found a seat on a chair. Tell me what happened.


    It went as nned. Konstans sat up, washing the dust of the road from his arms with a piece of soft cloth. The prince is dead.


    Good. We should find Inghard more pliable.


    Yes. Hopefully the cutthroat has done his task on Gerhard already, Konstans spoke casually.


    This will amuse you to hear, Mathilde smiled. Jerome returned only yesterday. He barely rested between here and Silfrisarn, so eager was he to escape our good friend Isenhart.


    Did he botch the killing?


    This is the amusing part, she continued. Isenhart killed Gerhard himself. He was enraged by our deception, and you already know how he treats hostages. Out of all people, Athelstan intervened and made sure the Hawk was spared.


    Brilliant. Konstans let a rareughter sound. Isarn killing the other prince leaves our hands clean. I could not have nned it any better.


    A shame that Gerhard had to die, Mathilde considered with a pragmatic voice. He was very amenable towards us. He would have been a good puppet.


    He would have revealed our involvement in releasing the Isarn prisoners sooner orter, Konstans pointed out, scrubbing a resistant spot of dirt until it cleared away.


    That, on the other hand, could have been nned far better, Mathilde scowled. The half-witted son is hardly of consequence, but letting Athelstan escape has made our enemy twice as dangerous.


    You exaggerate, Konstans imed with a calm voice. Isarns armies are crippled. It does not matter how great amander Athelstan is when he has no soldiers tomand.


    You underestimate him. Jerome also brought news of a skirmish between the Red Hawks and Isarns forces. The Hawks were forced to retreat.


    Winning a small encounter will hardly turn the war around for Isarn. Every soldier he loses, he cannot hope to rece anymore. As long as he has losses, every victory is also a defeat for him, Konstans stated.


    You better be right. His wife wore a sneering expression. These mercenaries are costing us a fortune. Thest thing we need is for this war to be prolonged.


    All will be well, the dragonlord imed. We have matters closer to home.


    What do you mean?


    The marriage between our house and Hardling fell through. With Hardmars death, ns will certainly have to change now, Konstans remarked with a sardonic smile. Of course, he is not the only Hardling.


    Valerie and Inghard? It will have to wait at least a few years, even if you get the boy dered of age to marry before time, Mathilde contemted.


    I had someone else in mind. He ran the cloth in his hands across his face, sighing with relief as the soft, warm cloth touched his skin. Inghard has a sister, and we have a son.


    A knowing smile spread across Mathildes face. Of course. How clear-sighted of you, my husband. I will tell Konstantine and prepare him for it.


    Let me, Konstans told her. Such an important matter shoulde from his father. After all, it marks his time to do his part for our house.


    As you say, dear husband.


    ~~~~


    Several days after Konstans arrival, a trio approached Middanhal. When the city was still some distance away, lfwine stopped. This close to the capital, he had been walking with the blindfold during the day; even avoiding the Kingsroad, there was always a danger of meeting other people. Now he removed it and turned his strange gaze upon his twopanions.


    The road must be close by, he told hispanions. You can find your way to Middanhal from here. My task is done.


    Will you note all the way? asked Egil. Much could happen between here and the Citadel.


    Yes, at least let us treat you to a meal, and you can sleep in a real bed tonight, Kate offered.


    There are many dangers in this world, lfwine smiled. You can handle what lies between here and your home.


    I need you toe with me, Egil stated with a worried look.


    Egil, hes done enough for us. If he wants to go home, we should let him, Kate interjected.


    I need your help, Egil spoke almost imploring.


    With what? lfwine frowned.


    Master Quill is in a cell. You remember him, right? the boy asked the Elf. The prince hurt him, and now he is a prisoner. He is an old man, and we have to get him out!


    Egil, I am no prince or lord to your people. They will not heed my word, lfwine pointed out.


    No, but youre the best warrior Ive ever seen. You could fight your way out! Egil suggested. Free Master Quill and get him out!


    Egil, there will be an entire garrison between your master and freedom, the Elf gently said. I am not an army.


    You killed those bandits like it was nothing!


    They were few and had no reason to keep fighting me. There could be hundreds of soldiers standing in our path. He looked at the boy with concern. Even if I could make it out alive, I cannot imagine your old and frail master would survive the same trip.


    Cant you try? Egil pleaded. I beg you, please!


    And afterwards? Where do you flee, pursued by soldiers? With a sickly man who needs to be tended to? Egil, we would only hasten his demise.


    Dont say that!


    Egil, he cant, Kate told him with sadness in her voice.


    If your master is to be freed, it will be by cunning or some simr device, not by strength of arms, lfwine dered. He let his gaze move back and forth between the children. I take my leave now. I warn you that you should never return to the Alfskog. You know what awaits you.


    We know, Kate nodded while Egil sniffed.


    Since you never listen, lfwine continued with a scolding voice, I will tell you this. Should you ever met any of my people, speak the name of Alfmod to them. They will recognise it and bring you to me. Now farewell. He bowed his head to them and turned around, moving north rapidly.


    Kate watched him leave. Did he say what I think he said?


    Who knows, Egil replied monotonously. He began a shambling walk towards Middanhal; a momentter, Kate turned from watching lfwines tall shape to catch up with the boy.


    ~~~~


    An hourter, the double walls of Middanhal rose imposingly before them; aheady Woolgate, allowing people to enter the city from the north. Kate suddenly reached out and grabbed hold of Egils sleeve. Gate toll! she eximed. Do we have any coin left? I think we spent thest we had.


    Its fine. I am the kings servant, and you are travelling with me. We dont pay gate toll, Egil informed her tonelessly.


    Are you well? Youve barely said a word since we said goodbye to Master lfwine.


    Yes.


    This close, plenty of other travellers were moving along the Kingsroad; one branch came from Theodstan and the other from Isarn to entwine before the gate. These days, there were few travellersing from the western branch, but trade and traffic remained as usual from the east. For a city of Middanhals size, having only two gates was deeply unusual; while it made the city easier to defend, it also meant that both ces were constantly crowded. The nobility was exempt from being subject to toll or guard inspection and could ride through without interruption; all others had to wait their turn. Kate and Egil, one looking concerned, the other indifferent, joined the row of people waiting to enter the great city.


    One silver per head to enter the city, the guard announced with the utmost boredom. He held his hand outstretched while his head was turned elsewhere, staring at a few pretty faces that had just passed by.


    I am the Kings Quill, Egil proimed.


    Seeing his hand devoid of silver, the guard looked outwards and finally down to see a young boy staring back and a girl of the same age nervously tripping behind him. What?


    I am the Kings Quill, Egil exined. Kindly let us pass.


    The guard grinned. Ive never heard that one before! Thats funny,d. For that, I wont p the teeth out of you. His grin disappeared. Now either sod off or pay.


    Egil kept his unblinking gaze on him. I am a servant to the king and do not pay toll. Stand aside.


    The guard scowled and grabbed hold of Egils robe, pulling the boy to him. Youre itching to get smacked, arent you.


    I am the embodiment of thew, Egil told him fearlessly, staring right into his face. My person is sacred. An assault upon me is an assault upon the Adalthing.


    The guards expression turned confused. Dont try and confound me, boy! Ill p you silly till the sheepe home! Despite his many threats, the soldier did not move to carry any of them out.


    I am the Kings Quill. I am the embodiment of thew. My person is sacred, Egil reiterated.


    Doubt spread across the guards face. Listen, I dont know what youre ying at, but the Quill is an old geezer


    Let him go, you halfwit! It was the gate lieutenant, summoned by themotion. Havent you heard? The old Quill got thrown into the dungeons. This must be his apprentice who went north with the prince.


    The soldier quickly let go of Egils robe and backed away. Sorry, he mumbled. How was I to know?


    Quiet, you moron, the lieutenant silenced him. You may pass, Master Quill. I was sorry to hear of the princes passing, he told Egil and disappeared into the gatehouse again.


    Without sparing the guard another look, Egil walked forward and entered the city, closely followed by Kate. Egil, that was amazing! she eximed. You were so fearless! How did you know to do that?


    I learned it from Master Quill, he exined in a tired voice. I suppose I should return to the library.


    Wait, didnt that soldier say the prince had passed? Kates eyes widened.


    He must have died when the camp was attacked, Egil assumed. I guess thats my luck. I wont have to forge anything.


    Forge?


    The prince wanted the master to make false documents, Egil rted. He refused and was thrown in prison. I was next.


    Wait, the prince, Kate suddenly interjected. He can help.


    He is dead, Egil pointed out. Lets get back to the Citadel.


    Not him! I mean, one prince is dead, and the other prince fled with the prisoners. So there is only the youngest prince left, right? Kates eyes beamed.


    I guess. So?


    That means he is in charge now. What the old prince did, the new prince can change. And Prince Inghard is a friend to Master Quill, she exined excitedly. He was always visiting us in the library!


    Realisation spread across Egils face. I have to get an audience with the prince!


    He sprinted towards the Citadel. An hourter, having used his authority as the kings scribe to open further doors, Egil and Kate apanied Inghard down to the dungeons. Shortly after, Kateb al-Qasr was freed from his cell, restored to his position as the Kings Quill, and could return to his library tower.


    ~~~~


    In the great Temple, affairs had returned to normal after that fateful day when the doors had been closed. The ckrobes had never given any exnation for this, and none dared ask the Temrs. Rumours swirled. The Highfather had fallen violently ill, and his death had been feared until he miraculously recovered. One of the Temrs had broken his vows and been cast out, like it had happened to Sir Damien years ago. Some swore they had seen Adalbrand, the infamous knave, pass through the halls. Others were convinced that arge treasure of gold and silver had been sent to the Temple for safekeeping.


    Two of the men who knew the truth, Septimus and Eadric, sat in thetters study. We have received another report, the high priest told his superior, holding a strip of parchment in his hand containing scribbled runes. Not only did Isarn win a battle and threatens to end the siege of Grenwold. The jarl killed Prince Gerhard afterwards by his own hand.


    Septimus sighed. Perhaps it were better if Athelstan had died on the scaffold. This war may drag on indefinitely now.


    Eadric looked at the old man. Should we seek to intervene?


    The Highfather shook his head. Too dangerous. This must y out by itself. Any news of Adalbrand?


    None of our priests have reported anything. Either he is well disguised


    Or he is keeping to the wild, Septimus nodded. I wish him gods speed in either case.


    If Adalrik is out of our hands, the ckrobe began to say, it is time to deal with Ealond.


    You are right. They did not heed my warning. Inform the Temrs and have a carriage made ready.


    Yes, Brother. When should you wish to leave?


    Tomorrow. I leave the Temple in your capable hands until I return, Septimus dered.


    Yes, Brother.


    Next day, though few inside or outside the Temple were made aware, the Highfather and ten Temrs left for Fontaine.

 Chapter 99: The Ravens Shadow Falls

    Chapter 99: The Raven''s Shadow Falls


    The Raven''s Shadow Falls


    Castle Belvoir


    In the south-eastern part of Ealondy the duchy of Belvoir along the border to Korndale. It was situated where several tributaries converged upon the river Sureste, making thends fertile and lush. Along with this came the rich trade with Tricaster across the border, making Belvoir a prosperous fief and its master one of the most powerful noblemen in Ealond. His fortress reflected this with many towers, high walls, and arge garrison; the nearby castle town had many stately houses built by wealthy merchants, its markets and workshops bustled with activity, and it had over time reached a size and acquired its own fortifications to merit being called a city instead.


    Riding through it on a magnificent steed, Duke Gaspard was followed by a grand retinue of kinsmen and other noblemen. They were returning from the hunt in the nearby forests that teemed with game, reflected by the many pheasants and even arge deer that their servants were bringing back. The townspeople hurried to stand aside for this splendid procession, but many of them cried out to the duke, wishing the gods blessing upon him. He waved in return on asion, exchanging jests andughter with hispanions meanwhile.


    The hunting party went down the main street of the city, eventually reaching its temple. Unlike its domed counterpart in Middanhal, it had a tall spire and a stained ss window above its great door that formed the shape of a raven. A novice in her brown robe was sweeping the stairs by the entrance when she looked up to see the duke and his followers approach. Dropping the broom, she hurried inside and called for her sisters.


    The high priestess of the temple was soon outside with the other ordained members of her order, bowing low as the duke reached them. The Raven Days are over! Gaspard dered. He was a handsome man with a groomed beard, as brown in colour as his cheeks were red. His fur-lined cloak and wealthy attire made an impression upon themoners as well; a crowd was already gathering to gawp at the richly dressed riders and hear their lords words. Those days of hardship always take their toll, and food bes scarce in many a home. Concerny upon his countenance. As the new year arrives, it brings an end to hardship for now. I bring this gift to the temple, he announced, motioning to his servants that were holding the deer upon a stick, that our revered sibyls may use it to feed those who cannot feed themselves. His men walked forward to ce the carcass upon the steps of the temple while the onlookers cheered.


    You have our thanks, Your Highness, the eldest of the norns replied. May the goddess bless you as you have blessed us with this gift. She gestured to some of her sisters, who grabbed the legs of the deer and began hauling it inside.


    May the new year bring you all gifts, the duke dered loudly, and his people roared enthusiastically. Waving to them, the duke turned his horse and began a slow trot, giving his people time to greet him and be greeted in return.


    That was kind of you, Father, remarked the young man who rode next to Gaspard; he had the same ruddy cheeks and clear blue eyes, though his hair was blonder and his beard thinner.


    I prefer the pheasants anyway, the duke remarked with mirth in his eyes, winking to his son before sending further smiles to the adoring crowd.


    ~~~~


    Thend was nearly t, but where it sloped slightly upwards stood Castle Belvoir. It towered over its surroundings, including the town, and dominated thendscape. The nearby river had been partly diverted to serve as a moat, increasing its defences greatly. As the hunting party approached the fortress, the call went up from the guards, and the drawbridge was lowered in response. Numerous servants hurried into the courtyard to receive the duke and his retinue; stable hands received the horses, kitchen servants took the dead fowls to prepare or cure the meat, and personal attendants brought wine and other refreshments to drink.


    Wee home, milord, dered the steward.


    All has been well in my absence, I trust? asked the duke.


    Yes, milord. I was told to ry that your wife has gone through the books for thest year, and she wishes to discuss them with you.


    Tell her we may do so tonight, Gaspardmanded.


    Yes, milord. Also, the servant continued hesitantly, Master Guilbert returned yesterday.


    The duke was quiet for a moment. Send for him in my study immediately.


    Yes, milord.


    The duke turned around. Alois, he called out.


    His son walked over to him. Yes, Father?


    Meet your mother and me tonight in my study. We will be examining the duchys books.


    Of course, Father.


    Let us attend to our horses, Gaspard continued. Father and son went over to where their steeds stood waiting. The stable boys had removed the saddles already and handed brushes to the noblemen to let them groom the horses themselves. Idle conversation ensued, mostly about their luck on the hunt, until the beasts had been properly tended to; only then did the duke allow his men to enter the castle and rx after their expedition.


    ~~~~


    While hispanions rested, changed clothes, or saw to other needs, the duke marched straight to his study. The figure inside had been sitting down, waiting, but leapt up as his lord thrust the door open and strode inside. My lord, Guilbert greeted him, bowing low.


    Guilbert, the duke responded with a nod. He moved to pour a cup of ale from a pitcher on a small table. How was your sojourn to Middanhal?


    It was a sess, my lord, the envoy reported with satisfaction. He grabbed a leather cylinder that had been leaning against his chair and opened it on the dukes desk, letting a rolled up document slide out.


    Gaspard seized the parchment eagerly and unfurled it, letting his eyes nce over it. At the bottom, it carried the signature and seal of the jarl of Vale. Excellent. This should silence the other lords. You have done well, Guilbert.


    I live to serve, he replied with a bow.


    What is your impression of the jarl?


    I never met with him, Guilbert admitted. Only his brother, the dragonlord.


    What would you say of him?


    A clever man, clear-sighted and willing to act as necessary, Guilbert described. Yet under strain from the civil war and liable to make mistakes if pressured sufficiently.


    I see. Once we intervene, the war shoulde to an end, the duke dered. He sat down by his desk, continuing to examine the treaty in his hands. Did you learn anything else of note?


    The prince seems charming. Seems, that is. I did not witness anything to the contrary, but his cordial manner felt like a mask upon his face, and I did not feel at ease when I glimpsed behind the mask.


    Is that so, Gaspard considered, stroking his chin. That will be a headache for the drakonians, not us. Once we finish this war that threatens his future rule, he should at any rate be amenably disposed towards us.


    Indeed, my lord.


    You have done well securing this, Guilbert, the duke reiterated, rolling the document together. Thanks to this, my ns may proceed.


    It was an honour. May I enquire as to when you depart for Fontaine?


    In a week or two, I estimate. Why?


    I was wondering, Guilbert spoke cautiously, if I would be apanying his lordship to the capital. I believe I may be of great service at the court.


    Regret appeared on the dukes face. I fear that would be unseemly. I will face opposition as it is, trying to legitimise myself at court. Legitimacy, unfortunately, is your weakness.


    If being reminded of his bastard background upset Guilbert, he did not show it. As you say, Your Highness, he assented with a servile demeanour.


    You will do important work for me here at Belvoir, the duke maintained. Far more important than at Fontaine.


    Of course, Your Highness. Was there anything else you required of me?


    No, you are dismissed, Gaspard told him. Turning around, Guilbert left the study with his countenance devoid of emotion.


    ~~~~


    The duke took dinner with his family and court afterwards, being served pheasants. After the winter, it was the first fresh meat anyone in the castle had eaten in months, and to augment the good mood, the wine was less diluted than normal. As the dukes cheeks were already red in colour, the effect of the drink was not visible on his appearance; heughed a great deal, yet that was alsomonce. His wife was quieter inparison, retaining a dignified disposition and only asionally adding a remark to her husbands jests. Their eldest son, mixing their blood and temper, was somewhere in between;ughing more often than his mother but with less intensity than his father.


    In any case, the sessful hunt and the return of the lord of the castle, with delicious food and wine to follow, meant for a merry meal. The harshness of wintery behind them, and while othernds might be ravaged by war, those seemed like distant realms; nothing threatened the prosperity of Belvoir.


    When all were satiated, the duke withdrew to his study, followed by his wife and Alois. The ounts of the duchy had already been brought there bymand of thedy, and she wasted no time in opening the ledgers at specific pages.


    Look here, she told her husband. These are our expenses for linen and cloth for thest year, and these are sums paid.


    They match, so why the dissatisfaction? asked Gaspard.


    I enquired with the merchants and weavers and tallied every sum. There is a discrepancy of fifty silver, she dered triumphantly. Your steward has written higher figures in these books than he actually paid out, keeping the difference.


    The dukeughed. My dear udette, you acted like a wolf with the scent of a wounded hart. Fifty silver is all?


    It is not the amount of coins, it is the principle, thedy replied offended. I told you that daleman was not to be trusted, and I was right!


    So you went to all this trouble, tracking down every merchant and craftsman, just to prove you were right? Gaspards voice danced with amusement.


    It is the principle, she reiterated fiercely. He is cheating us! While the duke appeared calm in the face of the duchess outburst, their son kept his distance.


    Darling, in the course of examining the books, do you have an estimate of how much coin we have saved since Master Livius became steward?


    I would not know, she sniffed. I did notpare with the previous years books.


    But you must have an idea, Gaspard pressed her.


    She stared at her husband. Three crowns and seventy-two silver, or thereabouts, she admitted sourly. But what he stole has to be subtracted from that!


    Thereabouts, the duke smiled amused. My arithmetic is inferior to yours, my dear, but that should leave us three crowns and twenty-two silver richer.


    It is the principle, she repeated.


    Alois, the duke called out, looking at his son. What would you suggest is done?


    The young man frowned. A servant who cheats his master is an offence to our honour. Furthermore, if it became known we have done nothing to discourage this, all our servants would be emboldened to steal from us.


    Very true. But Master Livius is the most capable steward I have had in many years. Is it worth losing his skill in running my estate to set an example? asked Gaspard.


    Alois scratched the thin beard on his chin. I would call Master Livius to my study tomorrow and tell him that starting this year, his wages will be increased with fifty pieces of silver.


    Are you mad? came an outburst from his mother.


    I would also inform him, the young nobleman continued, that I have decided not to suffer any kind of thievery or dishonesty among my servants henceforth. He is to crack down on any such behaviour harshly, and you expect that theing years books will be bnced perfectly with not a copper petty out of ce.


    You are soft-hearted like a wench, his mother grumbled.


    Gaspard smiled broadly. You are wise beyond your years, my son. Come now, udette, be thankful that our son has inherited your mind and my good looks. Imagine the disaster if it had been reverse, he grinned.


    How dare you! udette eximed, though her outrage seemed disingenuous. Tonight when youe knocking at my chamber door, home for the first time in many nights, I shall remember your words and make you bitterly regret them.


    Lock your door all you want, dear wife. I have a copy of the key, he informed her with a wink to his son, who seemed slightly nauseated at the conversation.


    I expected nothing less from a rake like you, she huffed. Alois, do not stay upte. There is a chill in the air tonight, and I do not want you to get sick.


    Mother, I just spent a week in the coldness of the forest, he tried to protest, but she was already leaving.


    That was a clever decision, my son, concerning Master Livius. You will make a great duke some day. Maybe more, his father predicted with gleaming eyes.


    You have not changed your mind, then? Alois asked apprehensively.


    I considered your objections as promised. I am still determined this is the best course of action, his father dered.


    The decision is yours to make, the son assented. I should be by your side - that should be my decision to make.


    The duke shook his head. There will be plenty for you to do in my absence. Once matters in Fontaine are decided, we march to war in Adalrik. I want you to make those preparations.


    The youth considered this briefly. As you say, Father. I shall make you proud.


    You already have, my boy. Now, let us have a ss of this brandy to chase away that night chill your mother mentioned, Gaspard suggested with smiling eyes, pouring two sses.


    ~~~~


    About a weekter, Gaspard of Belvoir was in the saddle once more. Along with his usual retinue, many hundred soldiers stood ready in the courtyard; on their march, their number would increase to the double, and it would still only be a small portion of Belvoirs full strength. Although the duke had been summoned by King Rainier to march all his soldiers to Fontaine, equipping all his levies and keeping them fed was very costly, and Gaspard was only bringing the number he felt necessary. To the inhabitants of the castle, unused to seeing armies of any size, it was an impressive sight regardless.


    As the columns made ready for departure, a norn entered through the gate and approached the duke. Seeing her, he dismounted again, allowing her to address him with more ease. My lord, she greeted him while inclining her head.


    Sister.


    Ie to wish the Raven Ladys blessings upon your venture, she exined. She lowered her voice as she continued to speak. I have received word from the Veiled. She awaits your arrival.


    Very well, the duke simply replied. His gaze fell upon one of the windows above where his wife and children were watching him, including his eldest son. You were present when Alois was born, were you not?


    I was the sibyl for all your children, Your Highness.


    Do you remember his birth words? the duke asked, waving and smiling to his family.


    Of course, the norn imed.


    Ravens shadow falls, fountain overflows, the river shall be his, Gaspard quoted from memory. In that moment, I knew he was destined for this.


    There can be no other interpretation, Your Highness.


    My son, he added to himself, smiling again. Thank you, Sister, he added, taking to the saddle again. Gods go with you, he told her in farewell. Move out! he shouted to the procession of men behind him while his personal guards fell into ce by his side. With a gentle push of the spurs into his horse, the duke began the journey towards Fontaine.

 Chapter 100: The Justiciar

    Chapter 100: The Justiciar


    Carcas was a sleepy vige in central Ealond. Nothing distinguished it from any other vige in the realm except for a temporary attraction, which had set up tent south of the brook that supplied Carcas with fresh water. One after another, the vigers visited and returned to tell the others that a seeress hade to town, telling their fortunes for just a silver piece. One farmer had been told of his good harvest toe, another that his heifer would calve withoutplications if he spoke a spell of health upon her three times a day, and a third had bought a potion that would give him eloquence to haggle at the market fair in summer.


    Some came anxiously, some came out of boredom, but regardless of the reason, most of the vige paid a visit to the prophetess and her silent protector; he was a big, but seemingly docile giant of a man travelling with her. None of the townspeople had heard him speak during their visits to the tent, and they assumed he was either mute or touched.


    Having been here for a few days, the fortune teller had been visited by everyone from the vige with the intent to do so; early in the morning, herckey was about to pull down the tent when one final guest appeared. He wore leather and a cloak meant for travelling,plemented by his heavy boats thick with mud; approaching the tent, he called out to the silent man outside. Is this where the fortune teller can be found? The big man nodded and gestured for the visitor to enter.


    The tent held various pieces of furniture, including bedrolls and a small chest. Two primitive chairs could also be found, one for any guests and one for the seeress herself. She sat, waiting for her customer, wearing a red robe in the fashion of the norns though it was adorned by many strange symbols. Cloth was wrapped around her head, concealing her lower face; big silver earrings could barely be seen underneath the scarf. Be seated, she spoke in invitation. What is your name, good master? Her voice was deeper than her slender form suggested, almost hoarse.


    I thought you knew such things, her visitor replied with a sardonic smile. He was around forty years of age with long hair tied back under his broad-brimmed hat; the tan and lines on his face suggested a life outdoors.


    I see what wille to pass, she retorted. Your name is of no consequence, to be truthful.


    Unlike yours. I am told youre the mistress risse, born with the clear-sight, and you can tell me much thats hidden from mortal eyes. Am I right?


    You are, she answered with her raspy voice. What brings you before me, traveller? To call upon my sight is a great ordeal and not undertaken lightly. I must know exactly the reason for piercing the veil of the future, she informed him, cing a hand on her forehead. If youvee for other reasons, such as to cure ailments that they brothers or sibyls cannot heal, I have many remedies as well.


    I have a question. Tell me if I am ever to marry, settle down, and have children, he asked of her.


    Her dark eyes scrutinised his appearance, and she extended her hand. One eagle is necessary for the sight to take flight.


    Of course, he assented, putting his hands on his belt. Besides a long dagger with borate sheath and hilt, it also held his coin purse, and he fished out a silver piece to put in her hand.


    Once payment was given, the fortune teller leaned back in her seat with closed eyes, cing her hand on her forehead again. She hummed a sound with closed lips, continuing for several moments. I see  I see you seated in a chair like now, but with grey in your hair. Her voice was like the growl of a beast. You sit before a fire in the hearth. A womans voice reaches you, telling you that food is ready. A boy, six or seven years of age, pulls your boots to let you befortable. She resumed the humming sound before finally gasping deeply. You have your answer.


    I have. Truth be told it was another question I sought answer to, but this will suffice, the traveller imed.


    If something else ails you, perhaps I can help, risse offered.


    I just needed to know if your powers of prophecy were genuine or not. You see, if they were, I would charge you with sphemy, abusing a sacred gift. A start went through the fortune teller, but before she could react further, his long dagger was in his hand and pointed at her stomach. As you are simply a chatan, thatll be my usation. I advise you to be calm rather than attempt to resist, flee, ormand that big lout outside to attack me. Ive already had the men in the vige surround the tent.


    You false snake, she hissed. Who are you to dare use me?


    Youre hardly one to throw stones, he remarked dryly. I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Ghiin, justiciar of the Raven Court, and I ce you under arrest as you have falsely imed to possess powers of clear-sight, epting money in return. A thorough search of your belongings and examination of you and yourpanion will determine if you are guilty of any other charges. He raised his voice to call out behind him without taking his eyes off risse. You may apprehend her. Commotion outside announced the vigers approach.


    Am I guilty simply on your word? she spat; her voice was no longer deep or raspy, but sounded typical for a woman in her thirties. Some of the men who only yesterday had paid for her counsel entered the tent with chains.


    The nearest high priestess of the Raven Court will determine your guilt, Ghiin dered calmly. I will be a witness against you, and even without clear-sight, I think I can predict the verdict. Shackle her, hemanded, keeping his knife ready on her while the men did as told.


    Being pushed outside, risse saw the justiciars cart; it carried a metal cage for prisoners with a heavy cloth covering to serve as a primitive roof and offer some protection from the elements. Upon the drivers seat sat a great dog with thick fur; its size would have made it look menacing, except it sat with its tongue lolling. Next to the cart, on the ground and also in chains, sat herpanion. You couldnt have warned me? she demanded to know angrily.


    He gave a resigned shrug. It was toote.


    Damn, big fellow can talk, one of the vigers noted.


    Quiet, Ghiinmanded, either to the prisoners, the townspeople, or all of them. He was carrying the chest from inside the tent, putting it on his cart. Pull down the tent and gather any other belongings into my wagon.


    Are you keeping it? someone wanted to know with envy in his voice.


    The justiciar turned around quickly with a piercing gaze. All their items must be examined for signs of witchcraft, Ghiin exined sternly. You dont want to risk bringing any such objects into your home, I can tell you that. As for the rest of their things, it is forfeit to the Order of the Raven. Steal any of it, and you steal from the goddess. Id strongly advise you against doing that, he said pointedly.


    The vige men mumbled and grumbled, but none dared defy the justiciar. Soon after, everything was packed in his cart, including the prisoners inside the cage.


    Standing up on the drivers seat, Ghiin surveyed the men that had aided him. Remember this lesson, hemanded them. The gift of prophecy is a sacred blessing given by Idisea to her chosen followers. Anyone who is not a sibyl, anyone who demands payment for its use, is either a fraud or a heretic. Do not give me cause to ever return to your vige, he added with a threatening undertone. Sparing the vigers no further attention, he sat down, grabbed the reins of the horse, and set his wagon into motion.


    ~~~~


    Their progress was slow as they drove on little more than dirt, trying to reach the main roads that connected the cities of Ealond. The justiciar seemed content with this, letting the horse move to its own pace and spending his time scratching his dog behind the ears.


    Master Justice, spoke his male prisoner. Where are you taking us?


    To Monteau, Ghiin replied. The high priestess there will cast judgement upon you.


    If you care about our destination, you should have done something to prevent it, the woman in the cart sneered to her shackledpanion.


    Easy, Sister, he told her calmly. It all happens for a reason.


    What reason? she asked incredulously. Are you saying its fated that I received the raven brand? As for you, you big oaf, theyll throw you in a pit to turn a mill wheel for the rest of your life!


    He lowered his voice. I am having the same dream.


    She rolled her eyes. Not this again.


    Several nights in a row. I am not surprised the justiciar found us.


    Well, it would have been nice if youd warned me, she spoke with disdain.


    He nced at her with tired eyes. Weve been doing this for more than twenty years. It was time it came to an end.


    Forgive me if I am not fond of it ending this way, being branded, she muttered, rubbing her hand as if she could already feel the burning mark upon it. Hey, Master Justice, she continued with a mocking voice, dont your prisoners get to eat?


    Sure, he replied with acent tone, tonight when we stop.


    Tonight? she whined.


    Theres bread in our bag over there, her brother told her, nodding towards a sack lying in the cart, but outside their cage.


    The woman extended her hands, but the shackles kept the bag out of her reach. Perfect. Michel?


    The giant leaned forward and stretched out his long arms, but to no avail either. Sorry, Sister.


    She let out a sigh. I cant believe this day.


    In front of them, the justiciar smiled to himself, feeding his dog a piece of meat.


    ~~~~


    Towards the end of the day, the cart rolled into a small town; its primary advantage over the viges of thend was the presence of a public house. The justiciar fished out a silver pin from his coin purse and attached it to his tunic; it was made in the shape of a raven clutching a naked sword in its talons and would be recognised anywhere in Ealond. Stay, Ghiinmanded his dog and jumped off the wagon, striding into the tavern while ignoring any protests by risse at being left in the cage.


    A handful of other people were present, mostly locals along with a portly merchant and his servants. They nced at the newly arrived but paid him no further heed, engrossed in their own conversation. Ghiin likewise cared little for the other patrons, walking up to the tavern keeper.


    Unlike his customers, the owner spotted the silver pin upon Ghiins chest immediately and bowed low with an anxious smile. How may I be of help, Master Justice? he enquired.


    I need my horse stabled and three meals. Send two of them to the prisoners on my cart, he instructed. If you have a bone or such to give my dog, I would look kindly on that.


    Of course, good master, the owner replied in a servile manner. Anything else?


    Some bread and food for my journey tomorrow. Ill sleep in themon room tonight, he added, ncing out at the room with its merry fire burning in the hearth.


    Very well, good master. The tavern keeper turned and barked a few orders at one of his servants. These prisoners, he continued hesitantly, they are not  dangerous, are they?


    About as dangerous as one of your kitchen wenches, Ghiin scoffed. They are not witches or heretics, merely foolish sphemers with little wit about them.


    As you say, the owner assented with another bow. Please, take a seat.


    Ghiin nodded and sat by the long table in the middle of the room, keeping plenty of distance between himself and the other people drinking andughing. Soon after, a bowl of stew was ced in front of him along with a spoon; the kitchen maid did this and retreated with such haste, the contents almost spilled. Ignoring her behaviour, Ghiin busied himself with emptying the bowl while staring with indifference at the empty wall in front of him.


    The merchant and his men were in a good mood,ughing and eating their fill with plenty of ale as well. Their master enjoyed telling jests in particr, letting his entire barrel-shaped body roll withughter. As he did, a strange rattling sound apanied his mirth. Finishing his stew, Ghiin suddenly held still, listening intently. Finally, he turned his head to look at the merchant. What have you got in that pouch on your belly? he asked, nodding towards the item in question.


    The other man took hold of the purse that hung in a leather string around his neck. Whats it to you? he asked aggressively, his merry mood gone. If youre thinking of grabbing your paws on it, best you look away, stranger.


    Ghiin turned his upper body towards the men, making the pin on his chest visible. They all fell silent, and the merchant grew pale. Ive heard that rattling sound before, the justiciar exined with a growling voice. It sounds like bones. Let me guess. He furrowed his brow in contemtion. The little fingers of a hanged man, snipped before dawn but after nights end, boiled and bewitched to give you an edge over the other traders.


    I dont know what you mean, the merchant stammered, sweating.


    Ghiin narrowed his eyes. Lying to me is a poor choice, he warned the man, extending his hand. Give it to me.


    The trader swallowed. Yes, Master Justice. He removed the pouch and threw it to Ghiin.


    The justiciar probed the content of the purse through the leather with his fingertips. Who sold this to you?


    An old man, travelling on a donkey. It was weeks ago.


    Where?


    Between the road of Fontaine and Montmer, came the hurried reply.


    What did he promise it would do?


    The merchant licked his lips. He told me it would protect my goods from rot.


    Ghiin stared at him intently. You fool. You invite evil into your life and carry it around your neck. Tell me this, he demanded. Do you feel that your strength is sapped quickly? That long journeys or hardbour leaves you quickly tired, and that your thirst and hunger have be harder to satiate?


    Yes! the man eximed. Am I cursed? Help me, Master Justice, please!


    Ghiin turned his gaze to the empty tes in front of the merchant. No, its because you eat like a pig, and youre slowly turning into one. Anxiousughter, suppressed in vain, erupted around the room. Ghiin held the pouch up. Im guessing these are chicken bones, and you were swindled from your money like the imbecile you are. But if you want to be sure there is no taint of evil upon you, he added, I suggest you make your offerings at the next temple of Idisea you reach. Or better yet, go to Fontaine and drink from the holy fountain. Only then may you be certain that you are cleansed.


    Yes, Master Justice, the merchant mumbled, ncing at his servants as they tried to wipe the smiles from their faces.


    As for this, Ghiin continued, standing up and walking over to the fire where he tossed the purse into the mes. They happily began to devour the leather pouch. He returned to his seat, taking a healthy swig of his ale. The locals slowly resumed conversation whereas the merchant retired to his room.


    Pardon me, good master, one of the kitchen maids spoke nervously.


    Yes? Ghiin replied.


    Is it safe? She nodded towards the fire.


    I doubt there is a lick of evil in those old bones, the justiciar reassured her. Besides, fire is the great cleanser. You have nothing to worry about. Seeing the anxiety remain on her face, he continued. If you wish to ward yourself  is there an ash tree in town? Failing that, an oak tree.


    I believe so, yes.


    Let the bones burn in the fire through the night. Tomorrow, without touching them with your hands, take the bones and bury them under the root of an ash or oak tree. That will bind any malevolence in the bones as safely as holy ground.


    Thank you, she smiled, adding a little bow after a moments consideration.


    Its my duty, he simply replied, returning to his ale.


    Shortly after, a cup of wine was ced next to him. From my master, the kitchen girl exined. As thanks for protecting us.


    Ghiin turned his head, looking at both servant and master; each of them managed to look grateful and nervous at the same time. He raised the cup and gave a nod in gratitude, emptying it. Afterwards, having finished his meal, he made a bed for himself in a corner of themon room and fell asleep mere moments after lying down.


    ~~~~


    Early next morning, the justiciar woke and gathered his belongings. Once outside, he tossed some bread and cheese into the cage on his cart. Breakfast, he told his prisoners. One thanked him while the other cursed him. His dog barked eagerly. At least someone is happy to see me, he muttered with a wry expression, scratching the beast on the head while waiting for the stable boy to bring out his horse.


    Michel sent his sister a look. What? she asked with bread crumbs falling out of her mouth.


    I had the same dream again, he confided in her.


    What else is new, she grumbled.


    It was different. It feels so urgent, he imed.


    Quiet with such talk, risse whispered with a sneer.


    They were interrupted by banging on the bars to their cage. If youre going to chatter away, you should prepare your confession, Ghiin suggested. He had put the harness on the horse, and their journey could be continued. You have a couple of days until Monteau. He sat up on the drivers seat of the cart.


    What if I want to go to Fontaine? asked Michel.


    His sister kicked him. Whats wrong with you? she hissed.


    Tough luck. Im not driving around with you for weeks when Monteau is only a few days away. Next to Ghiin, his dog ced its head in hisp, angling for more scratches.


    But there are certain crimes against the faith that only the Council of Three may judge, right?


    Ghiin sent a scrutinising nce over his shoulder. What would a peasant like you know about that?


    Michel, his sister spoke with a warning tone.


    I know that certain heresies are considered so dangerous, they must be judged by the tribunal, Michel continued. For instance, those who profess the teachings of Hraban the Revered.


    Hraban the Mad, you mean, Ghiin scoffed, giving his draught horse the signal to start pulling the cart. Only a halfwit would follow his crazed beliefs. Ive met many a moron in my time, and never one followed that heresy.


    Today is your lucky day, Michel smiled, stroking the full, ck beard on his face.


    Michel! His sisters voice reached a pitch barely audible to human ears.


    You see, I believe as he does. I believe that men may hear the voice of Idisea. I believe that the Order of the Raven has lost her blessing. I believe the justiciars have erred from the path of right.


    Ghiin halted the cart abruptly, pulling the reins back forcefully while the mare protested. For a moment he sat, staring emptily ahead while anger began to surface. He leapt down from his seat and walked over to stare into the cage. I dont know what would be worse, he confessed; his voice was steady, but the words were spoken with an edge. If youre saying that as a jest, or if you truly believe it. Either way, you got your wish. He stared with contempt at Michel. Im hauling you before the Council of Three where youll be made to repent all your errant beliefs. After that, youll get the worst punishment for a heretic. I hope youre not afraid of fire, boy, because theres a lot of it in your future.


    Michel, what have you done? whispered risse, tearing at her hair. Youll get us both burned at the stake!


    He gave her a peaceful smile. You need not worry, Sister. Youll be fine, I promise.


    How can you know, she questioned. Twenty years Ive taken care of you, and you throw it all away!


    The cart set into motion again, turning around and going north towards Fontaine. Itll all be well, Michel imed. Were going where were supposed to go. He leaned back into the straw that served as a rudimentary bed, closing his eyes.

 Chapter 101: The Heretic

    Chapter 101: The Heretic


    Steadily, the cart rumbled on northwards towards the capital of Ealond. The journey passed quietly for the most part. risse had gone through various stages of anger, pleading, and finally sullen resentment towards her brother, who had endured it all calmly. Ghiin had restricted himself to barking for silence on asion until at length this had been granted, albeit not through any of his efforts. The only creature making noise was the dog, expressing its opinion of the various woond creatures watching the cart drive by.


    On the fourth day of their journey, Michel finally broke the silence again. Today is Laugday. We could all use a bath.


    No amount of water will clean your soul, heretic, Ghiin shot back.


    Even condemned people are allowed to wash, risse imed.


    What gave you that idea? Condemned people are allowed nothing but a noose, the justiciar stated.


    Itll be a long road to Fontaine if we cant bathe on asion, Michel pointed out, stroking his ck beard. Or change the hay in this wagon.


    I let you out of the chains to see to your needs on asion, Ghiin retorted. Be content with that.


    Master Justice, Michel continued unabashed, if memory serves me, theres a vige up ahead with a lovely little brook of water. It would be a short stop to let the horse and your dog drink, and we might wash and change clothes. Surely you would enjoy that yourself.


    Ghiin looked at the dog by his side, who stared back with a begging look and whined quietly. Fine. Same rules apply as always. You go one at a time, and if you try to run, I set the hound on you.


    Of course, Master Justice, Michel smiled.


    Youre very pleased with yourself, risse muttered. Dont think this absolves you in my eyes.


    I would never dare, Michel swore. But my dreams have been strange ofte, and nothing clears the head like a good swim in cool water on a warm day.


    You cant even swim, dimwit, his sister reminded him.


    True. The big man frowned. Master Ghiin, he called out, can you swim?


    What possible reason do you have for asking? nning to drown me in that lovely little brook of yours?


    Never, Michel protested. But the stream is deceptively deep and has a current. If you cant swim, you should take care.


    Sadly for you, I am an excellent swimmer, Ghiin informed him.


    Good, Michel replied with a satisfied expression.


    ~~~~


    About an hourter, the wagon crossed a small bridge and rolled into a vige. The justiciar halted his cart and looked back at the brook they had just passed. Very well, he assented. One at a time. You first, he nodded at Michel, unlocking the cage and the big mans chains afterwards. Here, boy, he called to the dog afterwards. If he tries to run, Ghiin told the hound, you sink your teeth in him. The dog barked happily in response.


    You need not worry, Master Justice, Michel told him, getting out of the wagon. Walking down to the stream of water, he stripped to the waist, removing his boots and socks as well, and entered the brook.


    The justiciar sat on the bank, watching his prisoner enjoy the cool water in the sunshine. They were not alone; several children of the vige had been sent by their mothers for the same purpose. They eyed the strangers warily for a while until ying and swimming in the stream diverted their attention. Ah, to Hel with it, Ghiin finally expressed, watching the others amuse themselves. He removed most of his clothing,ying it in a pile. Watch my things, he told his dog, who whined back at him. Youll get your turn, he promised and entered the water. The justiciar was lean and in good shape, taking powerful strokes to cross the stream from one bank to the other and back.


    Keeping to the edge, Michel watched him with a grin. Not such a bad idea, was it, Master Justice?


    Even heretics can have the right thought on asion, Ghiin granted.


    Michel only smiled, staying where he could reach the bottom and washing his shirt beforeying it to dry on the bank. That aplished, he stood and watched the children of the vige. Suddenly he called out the justiciar. Master Ghiin, I think that child is in trouble.


    What do you mean? The justiciar ceased swimming, treading waters while gazing in the same direction as Michel.


    Out there, therge man urged, pointing.


    If this is some ploy


    I swear by the Seven and Eighth, I think she is struggling with the current.


    Him and Hel, Ghiin cursed. Stay here! hemanded Michel, swimming tond with a few strong strokes. Moving out of the water, he ran along the bank downstream. Approaching the children, he saw that Michel was right; they were visibly upset, shouting and calling for attention, but none of them old or strong enough to intervene. With a fluid movement, Ghiin dove into the water. The current, dangerous to a child, was little match for him. Within moments, he reached the girl, scarce more than seven or eight, and wrapped one arm around her, keeping her afloat. The child gasped for air, struggling and almost hitting her rescuer. Unaffected, Ghiin used his legs and free arm to get to the edge of the stream until he could find footing. Breathing heavily, he pushed the girl onto the bank.


    By now, several adults in the vige had been alerted and arrived on the scene. There was some initial confusion, but the testimony of the children quickly exined matters. Thank you, traveller! a man eximed, holding the rescued child tightly. I told my girl to stay by the bank until I came, but she never listens, do you? He ruffled her hair affectionately while she hid her face against his chest.


    Any man would have done the same, Ghiin spoke dismissively, still catching his breath. An expression ran across his face. My prisoners, he burst out, getting out of the water and hurrying back from where he came.


    Prisoners?


    Hes a justiciar, someone whispered.


    His cart stood where he left it with risse up against the bars, trying to watch the events that had just unfolded. What happened? she asked.


    Ignoring her, Ghiin moved past the cart and towards the stream. By the edge with his feet in the water sat Michel, scratching the dog behind the ears. Not much of a watch dog, are you, Ghiin growled at the hound, who had the decency to look ashamed.


    Well done, Master Ghiin, Michel told him. You saved a child.


    Someone else would have done it, the justiciar imed. I was merely a bit faster to arrive.


    I cant say, Michel admitted, speaking as much to the dog or himself as to Ghiin. All I saw was a girl struggling, never what came after. His warden frowned at hearing those words, but before he could speak, Michel stood up. I am done. I am sure risse is anxious to be allowed her turn to wash.


    Get going, then, Ghiin told him, eyeing the tall man with a scrutinising gaze.


    ~~~~


    They left the vige and continued their journey for the rest of the day. As it grew dark, they were far from any signs of habitation, and Ghiin decided to make camp by the roadside.


    Perhaps, Master Justice, we could make some different arrangements, risse suggested. If we build a fire, the night will be more pleasant. And maybe youd let my brother and me sleep on the ground instead of inside this thing fit only for beasts. She nced at the cage surrounding her.


    I should have gotten rid of you in Monteau, the justiciarined. Yourfort means little to me, he added, addressing risse. You have food and a ce to sleep thats dry.


    I contest thatst point, Michel objected. If youd let me raise our tent, wed have a nicer sleep with no trouble to you.


    Imagine if we get sick before the trial, in your custody, risse considered.


    Ghiin sighed. Youre keeping the chains on.


    Soon after, a campfire burned and a tent was raised close by. The siblings shared bread and fruit while Ghiin helped himself to some smoked ham, courtesy of the grateful parents whose daughter he had pulled from the brook. The dog ced its head in hisp with a telling look until he relented and threw a piece of meat to it.


    A while passed in silence with Ghiin sending Michel a discerning look. Finally, therge man returned the gaze. Does something trouble you, Master Ghiin?


    All the years Ive been swimming, the justiciar began to say, and Ive never had to help anyone in need. But today you want to wash, and you choose the spot, and you ask if I can swim


    Its Laugday, Michel pointed out. Nothing strange about it.


    Who told you about Hraban? To profess his teachings, you must have been taught, Ghiin continued, changing topic.


    Dont answer, risse interjected. Hes trying to trick you into confessing.


    I make no secrets of my beliefs, Michel smiled. Ill be d to answer.


    His sister sighed. Youre a really hard man to help.


    I want to know who spread this heresy, Ghiin demanded.


    An old whiterobe in the vige where we grew up. He died twenty years ago during a skirmish between the local lords. Theres not any trail to follow there, justiciar. Michels smile might have seemed mocking in spite of his gentle nature.


    Do you even know the full story? Hraban spent thest decades of his life imprisoned in Fontaine, growing madder by the day. He was nothing but ravings and ramblings at the end, they say, Ghiin told them.


    Being imprisoned for decades will do that to a man, Michel countered. Ask yourself this. If the Council of Three truly considered Hraban a sphemer, that his revtions were inspired by madness rather than the divine, why keep him alive instead of having him executed?


    Ghiin chewed on the meat in his mouth. If he really was mad, he couldnt be held responsible for his sphemous talk, I imagine.


    I have another question for you, then, Michel continued. The Fates weave the life strand of every person at birth, right?


    Gods, here we go again, risse mumbled.


    Of course, Ghiin nodded. Idisea knows the hour of every birth and death. Austre sees all deeds under the sun, and Disfara knows the hidden depths of the human heart. He spoke as if reciting verse.


    Does this mean we are fated to do every action we take? asked Michel. Are we responsible for anything we do if those acts were woven by the Fates into our destiny?


    Every man is responsible for his own actions, Ghiin stated. The Fates simply observe and record what will happen. They dont decide.


    But still it means that everything has already been decided, Michel argued. You may think it was your choice to take us to Fontaine instead of Monteau. I may think it was my choice to convince you to do so. But the three of us were always going to end up in Fontaine. It was woven in our fate long ago.


    Youre giving me a headache, Brother.


    Ghiin scratched his head. But its still my decision. I could open those shackles right now and let you run. I choose to do my duty and haul you both before the tribunal.


    Then perhaps our fate is not written in stone, Michel smiled, or woven in unbreakable thread.


    How else might fate work? The question came from his sister, who seemed reluctantly curious.


    I think the Fates weave a path for us, the gentle giant contemted. A destiny we may fulfil if we have the courage to walk that path. Every choice of significance either helps us stay on the path or makes us stray from it.


    The justiciar stared into the fire. How do we know if a choice does one or the other?


    That, Michel admitted, is a question without answer.


    Damn heretic, Ghiin muttered. I liked you better when you were a pair of chatans. Get some sleep.


    I wish you a dreamless sleep, Master Justice.

 Chapter 102: Court, Keep, and Castle

    Chapter 102: Court, Keep, and Castle


    Along the great river Mihtea, as it flowed towards the sea,y Fontaine. It was the capital city of Ealond and the thirdrgest in the Seven Realms. While Middanhal was home to the high king, the Order and the Temple, and Herbergja was the economic heart of Adalmearc, Fontaine was the city of craftsmen and artisans. Where its rivals had guilds numbering in scores, Fontaine counted its guilds in the hundreds. Materials came from distantnds, such as wool or cotton, iron or copper, dye, leather, timber, and anything else conceivable to be put to looms, under hammer, into vats, or worked upon with a variety of tools unique to each trade. Much of it was sold to the citizens, who were ustomed to a wide selection of every item avable to their households; the rest, notably dyed cloth and expensive wine, was sold in othernds with a reputation for excellent quality.


    There was one guild in Fontaine that had no counterpart in any other city, and it was another reason for the capitals fame; it was the guild of engineers. It had been founded nearly eight centuries ago by Renaud, the famous architect who built the double walls of Middanhal and its domed Temple. In some respects, it functioned like any other guild; it was an association of masters within this particr craft, regting who could work in this field, guaranteeing quality, settling disputes, and providing support for members of the fraternity. Since most of their work was overseeing the construction of buildings, quality was imperative; ws in the work meant copse and possibly death for any unfortunate soul caught by debris.


    The masters took on apprentices for their workshop, who helped draw up ns and acted as right hands while learning the trade. Unlike most other crafts, extensive study of mathematics was needed along with the usual knowledge of materials, tools, and so forth. Some apprentices were fortunate and could take their masters ce in the guild when the time came; others sought employ elsewhere. While the other realms had builders of their own, a man trained by the guilds of engineers in Fontaine was sure to find work and be well paid anywhere. In this manner, many trained engineers carried on the tradition of Renaud in building castles and fortifications; finally, some left the city with the opposite intentions, seeking work as siege engineers. Wherever defensive walls stood, siege machinery was needed to break through them.


    In one workshop, a young man sat hunched over his workbench with parchment and charcoal. Part of his work showed various runes inplicated forms, while the rest was a curious design unlike anything else. It was a stone thrower of sorts, but instead of utilising torsion, it worked through a counterweight. His face was contorted in concentration as he scribbled numbers continuously, biting his lower lip.


    Armand? a voice called out. Its owner came descending down the stairs into the workroom.


    A start went through the young man, followed by a chagrined expression as he stared at the runes he had written. Yes, master, he replied absent-mindedly.


    Look at me when I speak to you, the old engineer reprimanded him.


    Forgive me, master, Armand hurried to respond, turning to look at the other man.


    Did you deliver the ns to Master Hamid?


    Confusion took hold of Armand for a moment. Not yet, he exined. I was going to on the way home.


    You mean you forgot, his master reproached him. Very well. See that you do.


    I promise, master.


    The older man scratched his bearded cheek. You better. I am considering letting you oversee the construction of Master Hamids warehouse, but I need to know I can rely on you.


    Armands face glowed. You can, Master Lambert, I promise!


    You need strict attention to detail, the engineer spoke sternly. Every number must be checked twice. All the material must be inspected thoroughly. You must supervise everything, every nk of timber cut.


    Of course, master, Armand nodded eagerly.


    Lambert sent him a discerning look. Very well. Well talkter of Master Hamids warehouse.


    Yes, master!


    You may leave for the day, Lambert told him.


    Armand leapt to his feet, gathering his parchments. Thank you, master, he said, making sure to turn and look at the old man as he spoke. He almost took a step towards the door, stopped his movement, and gathered up the ns for a warehouse lying on a shelf above his desk. With a smile and a nod towards Lambert, he left the workshop and stepped onto the bustling streets of Fontaine.


    The capital of Ealond shared one trait with its counterpart in Adalrik; the Mihtea flowed through both cities, providing them with fresh water. The simrities ended there. In Fontaine, it was the southern part that held the most notable features, including the royal castle and the great temple dedicated to Idisea. Instead of being surrounded by mountains and having few gates and bridges to emphasise defensive capabilities, Fontainey on a t in and had plenty of entryways. Merchants and their storehouses congregated around the river, using its swiftness to transport their goods, and the many workshops depending on these materials spread out like fans from the surrounding warehouses and marketces.


    Walking hastily, asionally bumping into other people and nearly dropping his parchments, Armand made his way from the craftsmens quarters to the statelier districts belonging to the affluent merchants of Fontaine. Tall spires rose ahead of him, signalling wealth and power. At length, he stopped outside one particr house that rose several stories high, knocking on the door. His eyes admired the stonework and construction while he waited until the door was opened by a young servant girl.


    Her appearance suggested she came from Alczar and beyond, same as her master; she stared mutely at Armand, who smiled to her. Hullo, he greeted her. I have these ns for Master Hamid to inspect and approve. He extended the bundle towards her.


    Silently, she hurried back into the house, leaving the young apprentice to stare perplexed at the empty doorway. Shortly after, a stately woman appeared. You are from Master Lamberts workshop, yes? she asked; her Mearcspeech came rolling off her tongue.


    Yes, Armand smiled. The drawings for Master Hamids expanded warehouse areplete along with calctions of material, workforce, and everything else. Once more, he reached out with the parchments, letting the woman grab them.


    Thank you, she replied curtly. My husband will contact your master once he has seen them.


    Very good, mistress, the apprentice spoke with a courteous bow. She closed the door without further words. He stood gazing at the timberwork of the doorframe briefly before he gathered his wits and left.


    Wealth in Fontaine was generally determined by how close someone lived to the river. The semicircles of the city defences extended in arches north and south, and the poorest lived furthest from the waters, closest to the walls. With the slender towers of the Raven Court and the broad turrets of the royal castle behind him, Armand walked north and away from the Mihtea.


    The streets grew narrow and more crowded the further he came; in most ces, the housesy directly against each other and rose several floors into the air. Armands destination was one of these with nothing setting it apart. Entering, he greeted those inside briefly and disappeared up a flight of stairs to reach another door.


    Passing through, he walked into a small room that held a bed, a table, a few chairs, a drawer, and a small loom. By thetter sat a woman, no more than twenty years old. Armand, she smiled.


    He walked over to kiss her cheek. Hullo, my dear, he greeted her, dumping his parchments on the table.


    Anything new to tell? Her hands expertly moved the loom, pausing only for a moment as she looked at him.


    Master Lambert might let me oversee the construction of the new warehouse were going to build, he rted excitedly.


    Thats wonderful! She sent him a glowing smile before returning her eyes to her work.


    He made no promises, but if I do good work the next days, Im sure he will hold to it.


    You might be made a master sooner than we thought, she spoke happily.


    That might be getting ahead of ourselves, Armand cautioned her, sitting down on the bed after taking his shoes off.


    That smells, the womanined, wrinkling her nose.


    Nicolette with her delicate nose, he grinned.


    Nothing delicate about your feet, she retorted. Wash them.


    He sat up and nced down into a barrel between the bed and the table. Were nearly out of water.


    Ill fetch some tomorrow when the water bearer makes his rounds, Nicolette promised.


    Do you need coin?


    There are some petties on the drawer, she exined, nodding towards the furniture in question. Her nce fell on the parchments he had brought home. Are you still working on that?


    I am sure the principle is sound, Armand imed. Using a counterweight should allow for immensely more force than simple torsion.


    Youve exined that to me already, she told him patiently.


    I just cant quite get the final nail in, heined.


    Wash, she reminded him.


    He grabbed a small bucket and poured water from the barrel into a small bowl, using it to wash his feet. The models Ive built all crack under the weight even though Ive calcted it precisely.


    Nicolette ceased her work and leaned over to pick up the drawing with its runes. It does look fearsome. Seeing these numbers remind me of Brother Erwan back home, sitting in his lore house teaching letters and tell-craft.


    Feels like an age ago, Armand added.


    Do you think we could be wed back home? Our parents would be happy to celebrate us, Im sure.


    He scratched the back of his head. I wont be able to leave the city if Im to oversee the warehouse construction, he considered. Wed have to wait until after that business is done.


    She nodded slightly. Thats fine. I dont mind waiting. Itll be merrier to have the wedding surrounded by family.


    Quite right, he agreed, drying himself after washing.


    Nicolettes attention returned to his drawings of the imagined stone thrower. I envy that you get to learn so much from Master Lambert. I always liked going to the lore house.


    When Im a journeyman, therell be lots you can assist me with, he promised, leaning back into the bed. Master Lamberts wife helps him with the calctions too, Ive noticed.


    She let go of the loom to pick up his sheet of numbers. Id really enjoy that, I think. Theres an elegance in arithmetic, I find. Its so nice when everything adds up and fits together neatly.


    Armand sat up again. Youll get all the calctions you could ever wish for, he dered. In fact, would you mind looking at my work? He gestured at the parchment. I may have made an error somehow, and you have a better head for numbers than me.


    Id be happy to, dearest, Nicolette promised.


    Let it rest for now, though. This humble apprentice has missed his betrothed all day long. Heunched himself like a projectile from a ballista to envelop his arms around her, making the chair topple and both of them fall to the ground; the sound of her surprised shriek became mixed with hisughter and yelling from downstairs, voicing the other residents opinions of noisy neighbours.


    ~~~~


    South of the rivery thergest temple in the Realms hallowed to Idisea. It wasmonly known as the Raven Court, being inhabited by sisters of that order. Tall, elegant towers rose in every corner of theplex towards the sky. It was built around a courtyard, where a fountain sprung and flowed through until it joined with the waters of the Mihtea. The mysteries surrounding this wellspring were numerous, giving various exnations for why this particr fountain was sacred; if the norns knew the truth, they did not share it. Regardless, there was a steady stream of visitors each day to drink from its waters to purify themselves, paying for the privilege. It was also a prerequisite for being received into audience by the Veiled, the highest priestess in the Order of the Raven.


    All norns were believed to have powers of prophecy as servants of Idisea; this allowed them to speak the birth words when a child was born, giving a hint of what future was in store for the newborn. The Veiled was especially blessed by the goddess and would receive omens and portents. After drinking from the fountain, and for an additional fee, supplicants would be granted entrance to the highest of the spires in the Raven Court, where the Veiled would wait.


    It was not certain if the high priestess actually wore a veil; she sat behind a curtain and could only be seen as a shadow against its fabric. The visitor would enter and sit on a chair without back, staring at the curtain while nked by two temple guards armed with staffs; Idisea did not allow any in her service to wield sharp weapons meant for killing. Once seated, the Veiled would address the believer.


    You havee before the Veil, but only she blessed by Idisea may gaze beyond. Tell me, traveller, what do you seek? The voice was deep and hoarse.


    Im not actually here to ask you anything, Godfrey admitted with a wry smile. I carry a message for you.


    Then why are you disturbing me? The priestess voice turned sharp. I do notmune with the goddess on a whim!


    I do not spend thirty silvers on a whim either, the traveller replied dryly, looking at the guards; neither of them were amused. I am to ensure that this message is delivered to you personally. Your acolytes and wardens did not take kindly to that request, so I found another solution.


    What letter could you possibly bear of such importance? There was a sneer in her voice. Very well, leave it with the guards and I shall read it.


    I am to speak it, Godfrey exined. The message is from the Highfather. He warns you that you have strayed from the path. Return to it swiftly, or punishment will be severe.


    How dare you! The shape behind the curtain leapt up to stand, causing her chair to fall backwards. You threaten me in my own sanctum! I should have the guards beat you bloody!


    I do not think that is what the Highfather had in mind, Godfrey remarked.


    Another reason to have you flogged, the Veiled spoke with anger. Pretending to speak for the Highfather is sphemy!


    The two guards in the room took hold of their staves with both hands and moved threateningly towards Godfrey. He rose to his feet and did not dignify either guard with a nce, staring at the curtain instead. The darkest dreams belong to those who see only darkness in others, he spoke coldly. Your eyes are as blind to the truth as your ears are deaf to my warning. He turned around; the guards looked at the curtain waiting for orders, and before any were given, Godfrey was already gone, leaving a seething priestess behind.


    ~~~~


    A cart rolled shakily on cobbled stones to enter one of the courtyards of the temple; it bore a cage, marking it as the property of a justiciar, which was amon sight in this ce. Less typical was the fact that the barred prison was empty and the prisoners sat with their shackles on the drivers seat. Only a big hound was in the back, sticking its head forward to peer between the travellers.


    Thats madness, Ghiin stated vehemently. How can two gods be one?


    The way I see it, the Hidden is simply a name assumed, Michel exined. Before she became the Veiled, the high priestess must have had a name like any other, right?


    But there are seven gods, the justiciar argued. Not six with one in disguise.


    If you think this is mad talk, ask him why we swear by the Seven and Eighth, risse inserted.


    I would, but weve arrived. There was a tone of regret in Ghiins voice as he halted the cart. His dog gave a cheerful bark at seeing familiar surroundings, jumping down to greet the approaching stable hands. Ghiin stepped down onto the ground as well, looking back at his prisoners. Youll have toe with me, he informed them almost apologetically.


    Of course, Master Ghiin, Michel assented. risse grumbled but did not resist.


    The justiciar was leading them across the yard when a traveller came from the opposite direction. He wore cloak and hat for long journeys and had a stout walking staff in one hand; a sword was strapped to his belt, but nothing marked him as out of the ordinary. Yet by chance, as they approached each other, he nced in Michels direction, and the giant man returned the look; when their eyes locked, Michel gave an anguished cry and fell to the ground.


    The eagle flies, the raven cries, the dragon dies! The words poured like a river from his mouth, and he clenched his arms around his knees. Hide in shadows, walk in light. Spare us, spare us!


    Silence! Godfreymanded. Only Michel seemed to hear, as the attention of everyone else was upon him, but he immediately ceased the flood of words.


    Brother, risse eximed worried; she sat down to cradle his head in herp and stroke his forehead. Its fine, youre fine, you hear me, everythings fine.


    Whats wrong with him? Is he touched? Ghiin asked concerned. Sisters of the order were approaching from every direction. In the background, Godfrey slipped away.


    It happened to him as a child at times, risse exined,forting her brother as best she could. I thought it was gone.


    What can we do? enquired the justiciar.


    Just give him some time.


    Master Justice, what is the meaning of this disturbance? A norn with a stern expression stared at Ghiin. She had a birthmark with the colour and shape of a strawberry on her brow.


    These are my prisoners, brought for trial, Ghiin exined. He had a fit of some sort, but itll be fine, Sister.


    If these are deviants or sphemers, have them thrown in the dungeons where they belong!


    All in good time, Sister, Ghiin spoke through gritted teeth. Until they are in their cells, I am in charge of them.


    Make it fast, the priestess demanded with an angry look.


    A sneer ran across Ghiins face before he turned his back on the norn, bending low to examine Michel. How is he?


    He seems calm again, risse replied.


    Taking hold of the big man under his shoulder, Ghiin helped him to stand. Lets get you inside, he dered. Ill  Ill try and choose a nice cell, he promised with an awkward tone of voice. risse followed behind as they entered the templeplex.


    ~~~~


    In the southernmost part of Fontainey the Order keep by one of the marketces in the city. The fortress wasrge enough to amodate a garrison of several thousand soldiers, though it currently held only a few hundred. Unlike Middanhal, it did not also serve as the city watch, so it did not necessarily require the same numbers; its only purpose was to be the extended arm of the Order in Fontaine, acting as the physical presence of the high king. It currently had a handful of knights; the rest were scattered across the numerous cities of Ealond or had been sent to Hthiod for the campaign.


    Despite their low numbers, the Order forces maintained strict discipline, and the knights trained daily. Every day, the marshal of the realm was found among his peers and soldiers. He was the tallest of any man in the garrison with a powerful physique, making for an imposing sight thatmanded respect; in contrast, his ck eyes and white teeth easily lit up in smiles andughter, making him well liked among his men.


    The knight he sparred against this particr day was almost as tall and had the same eyes as the marshal. In contrast, he was far more slender of frame, and while the marshals skin was ck, the other knight was lighter in colour; yet, when he sent a challenging smile after striking a hit in their training match, another simrity between them appeared.


    Do not grow bold, the marshal warned his opponent; each sized the other man up, preparing for another exchange.


    None may mock Sir Martel and live to tell the tale, the knightughed; his merrymaking was merely a ruse as he immediately followed up by striking out.


    The marshal was not so easily duped and easily took the blow with his shield,shing out with his own de against the knights shin,nding a hit. I would not kill a man so clearly beneath me, Martel retorted, just cut him down to size!


    His opponent limped backwards; after a moments respite, he struck again. Again, the marshal proved superior, trapping the knights sword with his own shield, holding it in ce long enough to m his own de against the knights helmet. Thetter staggered backwards, shaking his head.


    Brother, are you well? Martel asked slightly concerned.


    The response came after a short pause. Fine, fine. You caught me by surprise. The knight took a few deep breaths.


    That will suffice for today, I think, the marshal dered while the onlookers cheered at the disy of his prowess.


    If you feel you have had enough, his opponent jested, removing his helmet and wavering a bit where he stood.


    It will do for now, Martel smiled, supporting his brother as they walked over to a water barrel and refreshed themselves.


    I heard a strange rumourst night.


    You are always hearing strange rumours, Gerard, the marshal told him with another smile before sshing more water onto his face.


    Yes, yes, but this one could be important, his brother insisted.


    Go on.


    You know that the king has summoned his vassals to renew their fealty to him?


    I remember, Martel said patiently. He began to unstrap the bracers from his arms.


    I have been told, Gerard continued with a lowered voice, that some of them are bringingrge numbers of troops along.


    The marshal frowned. For what reason?


    That is why it seems strange. I cannot imagine any benevolent cause, leaving only malevolent possibilities.


    The king is young and perhaps not popr, Martel contemted, but it is far step to outright rebellion. The nobles dislike each other as much as they dislike the king. None of them would have the support to make any attempt.


    Probably not, Gerard conceded, yet the timing would fit. Adalrik is in civil war, the Order is waging a campaign in Hthiod.


    There has been peace in Ealond for decades, the marshal brought up. I thought the strife of past years was behind us.


    There was peace because King Rainiers father knew how to rein the nobles in, the knight pointed out. His son may not have the same strength.


    What are we to do? With a few hundred men, we cannot secure the city. We should warn the king, Martel considered, scratching his trimmed beard.


    There is also the possibility that the king hasmanded these armies to gather, Gerard suggested hesitantly. If so, warning him will inform him that we are aware of his ns.


    What ns? asked Martel confused.


    What does every king of Ealond want? To control Herbergja and Tricaster. Holding those cities along with Portesur means a stranglehold on nearly all the trade in the Realms, the knight exined.


    Breaking the high kings peace, the marshal mumbled, attacking another realm, I cannot imagine King Rainier would dare to do so.


    It is also hard to imagine the nobles seeking to overthrow the king, yet one or the other must be true.


    Martel was silent for a while. What shall we do? With a few hundred men, we can neither defend the city against the nobles nor stop the king, regardless of what is true.


    A few hundred men in the right ce can make a great difference, Gerard imed. Let me investigate further. Have the men prepare to move out at moments notice to seize either the pce or the gate. Perhaps both.


    Martel nodded. I will. He gave a wry smile. They should have made you marshal.


    Gerard pped him on the shoulder. You look the part better, little brother. Visit Mother soon. She asks for you.


    I will, the marshal promised, and they went their separate ways.


    ~~~~


    Along with the Raven Court and the Order keep, Fontaines most noticeable building was the royal castle. It did not have the immense fortifications of the Citadel or the splendour of its counterpart in Plenmont, buty somewhere in between; it was a sign of how the kings of Ealond desired to present their wealth to their subjects while also being able to defend themselves against those same people.


    The king sat in the royal chambers, reading. He was pale andnky with eyes and hair of dark hue; his beard was trimmed in thetest fashion, leaving a ring of hair around his mouth but his cheeks smooth. A servant announced his entrance with a knock. Yes? the king enquired.


    The seneschal seeks audience, Your Majesty.


    Show him in, the king granted. He closed his book and looked up as the steward of his realm entered.


    Your Majesty. The seneschal gave a deep bow.


    What news?


    Duke Belvoir approaches, Your Majesty. He should be able to enter the city in a few days.


    My other vassals?


    They are all in or near the city, Your Majesty.


    Rainier nodded. Summon them in two days time to affirm their fealty to me.


    Yes, Your Majesty. The seneschal gave another bow and left his master.


    The king stood up to walk over to a window. Looking out, his gaze was attracted by the slender spires of the temple and the sturdy turrets of the keep. In betweeny great swathes of houses and workshops. On the river, boats were constantly being docked or departing. His eyes followed a ship with tall masts,zily following the slow current towards Herbergja. Returning to his seat, Rainier took out his book again and resumed reading.

 Chapter 103: Veiled Chains

    Chapter 103: Veiled Chains


    The dungeons in the Raven Court were austere as could be expected, though this was not due to animosity against those awaiting trial; they were simply cells like any other in the temple, except their upants were not any of the sisters, but prisoners. In fact, the rooms were clean and free of vermin. Compared to sleeping in a tent, it was almost hospitable, as Michel rted to Ghiin. Thetter was standing outside, looking in; the only difference between this cell and those used by the norns was that a window had been cut into the wooden door to allow supervision of the upant.


    In short, Master Ghiin, I am being treated well, yes.


    Good, the justiciar muttered. Your trial is in a few days. I have been considering your defence.


    My defence? Michels voice was amused. You are a witness in the case, Master Justice, not my counsellor.


    I know, Ghiin grumbled. I just think you should be prepared.


    That is kind of you.


    The good news is that the tribunal havent burned a heretic in more than a century. I dont think theyll start now.


    That is good news, Michel agreed with a wry smile.


    The Veiled is a sensible woman. Not the sort who wants to see crowds whipped into a frenzy.


    I see.


    Sister Rosalie is kind-hearted, Ghiin considered, and I dont think its in her to condemn any to death. That leaves only Sister Jocelyne, he continued darkly.


    She is less friendly?


    She is  stern. The justiciar chose his words carefully. Some call her Sister Strawberry, he added with a sudden chuckle. Not because of her disposition, but the birthmark on her face. In any case, she is only one voice out of three.


    I am sure it will be fine if I simply tell the truth, Master Ghiin.


    Of course, of course. The other man nodded to himself, leaning against the cell door. Still, I will search the archives to see what might be gleamed. He nced through the bars at the prisoner inside. The oue of previous trials may sway the tribunal to be lenient.


    Do as you find best, Master Ghiin, Michel smiled.


    ~~~~


    Far above the dungeons, the Veiled had passed on the sacred words of the goddess to thetest supplicant. She signalled through the curtain for a pause before the next visitor; the guards, seeing the shadow of the hand gesture, left the room.


    As she was alone, the woman on the other side of the divide stood up. She was wearing the patterned robe of a high priestess. Although grey was sprinkled across her hair, she did not seem hindered by age. She moved with ease out of the hall to enter the chambers behind. The scattered belongings revealed the area to be her personal quarters. On a desky another robe with a threaded needle as a sign of interrupted repair work. Hanging on a nail above was a veil of the sort any woman concerned with modesty might wear. A few booksy stacked on a stool by the simple bed with one of them opened up. There was no mirror of any sort.


    Sitting down by the desk, the norn pushed her un-mended robe aside to reveal strips of paper below. They were messages from her sisters in other cities or from here in the temple, bringing her attention to matters deemed important. She picked one up which had Belvoir written upon its back to signal its origin. The notice was sparse, simply informing the Veiled that the duke was on the march.


    Crumbling the note in her hand, she closed her eyes, lost in thought for a while. Grant me strength, she whispered, to see your will through.


    Veiled Sister? A voice rang out from the hall.


    Quickly snapping to attention, the high priestess grabbed the veil hanging on the wall and adjusted it over her face. She walked out of her chamber to enter the bigger room, still holding the crumbled note in her hand. What is it?


    The shadow of a robed figure met her from beyond the curtain. If you have time, I would like to speak briefly with you, Sister. The words were spoken with a servile attitude.


    For goodness sake, Sister Rosalie, step around. I have enough conversations through that piece of cloth.


    The other norn dutifully moved past the divide to look at her superiors veiled face. She was perhaps a decade younger with a face whereughter easily found a home. Forgive me, Sister, I know how little time you have between the worshippers seeking the wisdom of the goddess.


    Yes, yes, out with it. Is this about the tribunal?


    No, Veiled Sister, though I suppose we should speak about that as well. I have never participated in the trial of a heretic before, Rosalie admitted. She shifted her weight back and forth, never standing still. I am unsure how to proceed.


    We ask questions of him and any witnesses and cast our judgement based on the answers, the Veiled replied curtly. What else?


    There is a story that the Archon sent you a message, Rosalie exined with hesitation.


    You listen to stories?


    Of course not, Veiled Sister, the norn quickly expressed, swaying in ce. A guard was concerned and told me.


    That was not his ce, the high priestess spoke sharply. This message, if it was genuine, was not for his ears to hear or his tongue to speak.


    I told him as much, Sister, Rosalie nodded. I only wonder what would cause the Archon to issue a warning.


    That is not your concern.


    Of course, Veiled Sister, the younger norn admitted with deference. Her shifting from one foot to the other intensified. I am just worried. If you require aid of any sort


    I am aided by Idisea, the Veiled spoke with the curt tone of voice so natural to her. What else could I need, she asked without needing an answer.


    Of course, Rosalie repeated. Forgive me for intruding upon your reverie. She nodded in farewell and left. The Veiled turned around to stare at the small fire that heated the chamber; the crumbled note in her hand was thrown carefully into the mes to be devoured within moments.


    ~~~~


    Regardless of the season, the markets of Fontaine were busy affairs with countless peddlers and buyers alike. Thetter consisted usually of servants to the wealthy, children sent on errands, housewives needing sundries, apprentices fetching material for their masters craft, and so forth. One of the exceptions to this list was Sir Gerard, who was amon sight at the markets surrounding the Order keep. Being a knight and handsome in appearance, he drew gazes easily and rewarded them with smiles andughter. He rarely bought anything other than a strip of dried meat or piece of fruit to chew upon, maybe a draught of ale to drink, but his congenial manner made him a wee sight regardless.


    At times, he walked with men of the garrison; on other asions such as now, he walked alone with only his sword forpany. Given his training as a knight, few would find fault in his confidence; if there was a disturbance somewhere, often his very presence was enough to cool heated heads. As chance would have it on this outing, Gerard became alerted to tumultuous behaviour. Barrels of fruit and fish were overturned, hens flew frightened to all sides, and outbursts of indignation followed the trail ofmotion.


    Tracing the movements through the market with his eyes, Gerard moved swiftly to stand in the path of the disruption, which soon came into view; a young girl, aged twelve or so, was bolting through the crowded square. Constantly, she knocked people and objects over; behind her, an overweight man in wealthy clothing was in pursuit while yelling curses.


    The fugitive was running at all speed, looking only a few paces ahead. This became her undoing; when she noticed the knight in front of her, it was toote to evade. Gerards strong hand shot out and seized her by the arm. She struggled and kicked, spitting out unintelligible words to little effect; neither her small fists nor her shoes couldnd any kind of blow to trouble Gerard in his armour, and he simply grabbed hold of her other arm to keep her still.


    Soon after, her pursuer caught up to them. Thank you, sir knight, the big man spoke, panting and wiping sweat from his brow. By his looks and clothing, he was a merchant of Alczar and among the sessful kind.


    It was no trouble. Master?


    Master Hamid, at your service, the merchant spoke with a bow. He spoke thenguage with a strong ent, but easily understandable. Thank you for catching the thief.


    The girl was still struggling, but it was a token effort by now. Gerard nced down at her. She is no street urchin, by her attire, unless some kindly shoemaker has taken up residence in Fontaine.


    Ah, no, she is a servant in my household. She stole, Hamid added with a harsh nce. My wife says I am too soft with servants.


    I never heard of a sessful merchant with a soft heart, Gerard remarked brusquely before breaking intoughter.


    Hamid joined him. Very true, sir knight, very true.


    What did she steal? asked Gerard, looking at the girl again. She had be still, ncing back and forth between the men with enmity in her eyes.


    Steal?


    What did the girl steal? It must have been significant to cause her to flee from you, the knight reasoned.


    Jewellery from my wife. It was already found, so the damage is limited, thank the gods, Hamid told him.


    Gerard looked down on the girl, turning her around so she faced him. Is this true? he asked sternly. Did you take your mistress valuables?


    The girl sneered back at him. She does not speak the northern tongue, s, Hamid exined. There is no need to question her, sir knight. I will bring her home and deal with her.


    Petty theft is one thing, but stealing items as expensive as jewels is a severe matter, Gerard frowned. Guards! he called out, alerting some men from the city watch. Still holding the servant girl in a firm grasp, he changed into the tradenguage of Alczar, speaking with a heavy dialect. Is it true you stole your mistress jewellery?


    The fugitives eyes widened. You speak real words, she stammered.


    Do not evade my question, child, Gerard told her with his stern voice.


    Master Hamid said none here would understand me, she continued.


    Sir knight, Hamid interjected in Mearcspeech, there is no need. I have not actually lost any property. I do not see the need to question her.


    By now, the local guards had reached them, looking questioningly at the knight. He gestured for them to have patience and turned his attention back on the child. I understand you well, girl, Gerard told her. Noticing something with a frown, he pulled up the sleeve of her dress to reveal a badly bruised arm. Were you beaten because you stole from your master, Gerard asked her, crouching down to look her straight in the eyes, or for another reason?


    Good sir knight, Hamid tried to intervene again.


    What does that matter? the girl asked confused.


    Thew protects servants from being beaten by their master unless they are breaking thew, Gerard exined in the tongue of Alczar.


    But I am my masters property, the girl protested. How can thew protect me when thew says I belong to him?


    Gerards eyes widened in realisation. He stood up, staring at Hamid. Vague words of protest issued from thetter before he simply turned around and fled. Guards, the knight called out, pointing at the heavy man, seize him! They followed orders without dy.


    Whats going on? the girl asked confounded.


    Gerard crouched down before her again, wearing a smile. I am guessing your master bought you on the markets of Alczar and brought you with him to this city?


    She nodded. The mistress needed a girl to tend to her needs.


    But you were not happy in his household.


    The master is not a bad man, the girl spoke cautiously, biting her lip.


    But your mistress is not kind, and you wanted to run away. What is your name, girl?


    Najat, master.


    Very well, Najat. Master Hamid must have  hidden certain truths. The words in the trade speech came haltingly from Gerards tongue, but his smilepensated. Thews in Adalmearc, where you are now, are different from Alczar.


    How so?


    Since the foundation of our realms, it has been thew that no man, woman, or child who sets foot upon the soil of the Seven Realms may be a thrall, Gerard exined; it took him a while to manage formting the full phrase.


    Najat frowned. What does that mean?


    Your master bought you as his ve in Alczar, but such is ouwed here. The moment you arrived in Adalmearc, you were free.


    Confusion was etched on the girls face. I am free?


    You may go anywhere you wish. If you are smart, you should go with me.


    The girl almost scowled at him in suspicion. Why?


    Because Master Hamid will be made to pay punishment, Gerard exined, working his way through the words of the trade speech. Some of which will be your coin as  as a way to make right what happened to you. Come with me, and we will make a statement to the servants of the Kabir of this city.


    A careful smile crept onto Najats face. She poked her little hand into Gerards, looking at him with eyes as dark as his. I dont think I mind this ce is so cold, she considered, if people are as nice as you. The knightughed heartfelt in response.


    ~~~~


    In the afternoon, the Veiled concluded another session and sent the supplicant on her way. Rather than admitting the next one, one of the guards approached the curtain. The chief justiciar seeks an audience, Reverend One.


    Send him in and leave us.


    The guards both nodded, walking out of the chamber. A momentter, a man in in clothes entered; only the sword and long dagger, meant for fighting rather than any innocent purpose, distinguished him from the people seeking the Veileds counsel. On his chest was the raven pin that all justiciars wore, except his was made of gold rather than silver, signalling him to be their leader. He knelt before the curtain. Reverend One, he greeted her.


    Master Ivo. You may approach, the norn granted. The justiciar stood up and walked around the divide to be faced with her veiled appearance. What is it? she enquired.


    The knights are investigating.


    Us or the king?


    Both, in a sense, considering Duke Belvoirs movements are connected to both, Ivo exined.


    What have they learned?


    Nothing substantial, I believe, the justiciar replied. The very fact that they are chasing two trails that ovep should confuse them. Long enough for our ns to conclude.


    If you did not consider them a threat, you would not have brought this to me, the Veiled pointed out.


    Ivo spoke with hesitation. There is a chance they uncover our intent and warn the king.


    The norn walked a few paces to stare into the small fire in the chamber; her veil hid the expression of contemtion upon her face. We cannot take that risk. She turned back towards the justiciar. We must intervene.


    Is it necessary? asked Ivo. They are knights of the Order. Good men.


    You knew this was the oue when you brought this to my attention, the Veiled reproached him. Besides, I am not speaking about the marshal. That would be too bold even for us. Simply target the man conducting their investigation.


    His brother, the chief justiciar rified. A sworn knight.


    Behind the veil, the norns eyes stared at Ivo. His fate is necessary. It is no different than if he died in battle protecting this realm. Idisea will look kindly upon his sacrifice.


    Of course, Reverend One.


    See it done.


    At once, Reverend One, the justiciar dered.


    ~~~~


    Fontaine was littered with taverns. At one of these establishments, a short and dour-looking fellow sat with a mug of weak ale. What do you want? he muttered as a man joined him at his table.


    Putting his hat down, Godfrey smiled at hispanion. Always such a cordial wee from you, Garrick.


    You want courtesy, you pay coin.


    In that case, we can dispense with civility. I have a task for you, Godfrey informed him.


    I dont imagine youd be here otherwise.


    This might take a year or two. You will be paid throughout the duration.


    Dangerous? asked Garrick.


    Of course.


    Of course, the surly man repeated.


    The assignment is in Alczar.


    Garricks response was to raise one eyebrow. You want to send me half across the world to the savages?


    No more savage than Herbergja or Fontaine, I assure you, Godfrey stated. The task is easy. You will collect information from others of my associates and pass it on.


    You mean Ill be your spy.


    If that is what you wish to call it, Godfrey admitted with a sly look.


    Thats going to get me killed, I wager, Garrick imed.


    The pay is equal to the dangers involved. It is a fairly simple task, though. You will simply hear what some people have to say and pass it on to the ckrobes in Alczar.


    I wondered when they would get involved, the stocky man snorted. Youre always tangled up in their business.


    We have mutual interests, Godfrey admitted. In this case, we both know you and find you a reliable choice.


    If I wanted to take marching orders from the ckrobes, Id still be a temple guard.


    His tallerpanion nced at the mug of diluted ale. You are not in need of coin, then.


    Not that much, came the grumbling reply.


    A shame. It was ten silver a day merely for asking a few questions in the right ces.


    ces where the only answer I get is a stabbing.


    The job requires someone who can handle a de, Godfrey granted. The pay reflects that.


    Garrick wetted his lips. Ten silver a day, you say?


    Godfrey nodded. Indeed.


    Hispanion emptied his tankard. Im not paying for the trip myself.


    Of course not. It will be arranged.


    Garrick sat staring down his empty mug. Himils balls, he finally eximed. Fine. Ill do that.


    Excellent. Godfrey smiled and withdrew a letter from an inner pocket. Some instructions for you. When you are ready to travel, seek out the ckrobes here in town. He pulled out a small rod with runes inscribed upon it. Hand this over, and it will exin everything to them.


    This better not be a message that gets me into trouble, Garrick mumbled.


    Nothing you cant handle, Im sure. Godfrey grinned and stood up, cing his hat on his head. A pleasure as always.


    Pleasures all yours.


    ~~~~


    You wont believe what happened today, my dearest, Armand dered as he entered the small room he shared with his betrothed.


    What happened? asked Nicolette. She was busy as usual working at the loom.


    He grabbed a nearby pitcher and drank some of its content. Gods, its getting warm already. I wish Laugday was soon. Anyway, he continued, sitting down on their bed. Master Lambert went to Master Hamids house today to discuss the warehouse ns.


    Did he suggest you oversee the construction? Nicolette asked eagerly; her hands stopped their work as she turned to stare at him.


    Armand shook his head. You wont guess the truth. When the master went there, Hamid was not at home. His wife exined he was conducting some business in town, so Master Lambert waited. Suddenly, Hamid burst into the house, frightening all.


    Why? Nicolettes eyes were wide with wonder.


    He garbled away in Suthspeech with his wife, so Master Lambert understood nothing until a guard patrol arrived moments after, Armand rted.


    The city guard?


    The same, Armand nodded. Though somehow the Order is involved. A knight showed up at some point too.


    Nicolette stared at him. Howe?


    Apparently, Hamid brought ves with him to Fontaine, Armand revealed dramatically.


    What, really? ves? Nicolette shivered.


    Poor sods were free the moment they arrived in Ealond, but he obviously kept that from them, he continued, telling the story with relish. That sly peddler kept them working for free. Some of them had bruises from being beaten, but not by Hamid, Armand revealed with a dramatic whisper, but from his wife!


    No! Nicolette gasped. What a shrew!


    Indeed, unlike my sweet, dear betrothed, Armand grinned, pinching her cheeks.


    Armand! she chided him, pushing his hands away. What about the warehouse? she abruptly continued.


    His merry demeanour changed. Probably not going to happen. Hamid will be facing arge geld, and his trading privileges may get revoked. He gave a little sigh. Therell be other opportunities.


    Of course there will, my dear, Nicolette told him, turning back to her loom. You should show Master Lambert your ns, by the way. She gestured to the pile of parchments lying on the table.


    Not until I have thempletely done, Armand dered.


    I finished them, she informed him as her hands deftly began to weave.


    He frowned, staring at her back. You  finished them? Standing up, he crossed the small space from the bed to the table to examine the illustrations of his stone thrower with a counterweight.


    She nodded, turning to look over her shoulder. You asked me to look at your calctions, remember?


    I did, but His voice fell quiet as his eyes nced over her changes.


    Your arithmetic was correct, so I went through everything else. Ipared the numbers written on your drawing. The angle and cement where the logs attach, the different weights and so on.


    Armand returned to staring at her. You went through everything? he reiterated in disbelief.


    You have to adjust the angle, lengthen the support beams, and make the chains for the counterweight run this way, Nicolette exined with a smile. See? This should transfer the strength of the falling counterweight much better. She turned her eyes from the ns to herpanion. Am I wrong? I tried about ten differentbinations until I got it right. I think I did, she added, pointing out thest set of figures scribbled down.


    Armand spread out the parchments almost feverishly. His hands iled around,paring notes and runes. Youre right, he muttered. Wed have to build a model to test it, but I think youre right. He raised his head to look at her with shining eyes. Youre right.


    She smiled. Im very d, dear. I enjoyed the challenge.


    Ill take this to Master Lambert tomorrow, Armand dered. But I cant tell him about you, or hell sack me and make you his new apprentice, heughed. If this works, youll never have to spend a moment at that loom again!


    Until then, I better finish this shirt, Nicolette said sensibly, returning to her work with a satisfied smile.


    ~~~~


    In the evening, thest remnant of traffic hurried towards the gates of Fontaine to enter before they were locked for the night. Duke Belvoir and his retinue were an exception; his followers numbered in the hundreds at least, and finding lodgings in the capital would be an arduous task. Instead, the dukemanded his small army to make camp onest time on the road between Belvoir and Fontaine.


    Tomorrow morning, send a messenger, Gaspard informed one of his aides. Tell the king that I await his summons to present myself to him.


    Yes, my lord.


    Dismounting, he left his horse in the care of an attendant. While his men raised his tent and set up camp, the duke stared at Fontaine. To one side, the distinct towers of the Raven Court greeted him; to the other, the royal pce met his gaze.

 Chapter 104: The Brevity of Fate

    Chapter 104: The Brevity of Fate


    It will be another few days before the trial, Ghiin informed risse. Sister Rosalie, the youngest member of the tribunal, asked for time.


    What for?


    She wanted to understand the old heresy better, I believe.


    So she can better use my brother. Even through the door, risses scowl could be felt.


    Michel will receive a fair hearing, Ghiin imed.


    Better if you had never dragged us here, she retorted. We wouldnt be in this mess.


    You confess heresy to a justiciar, dontin about the consequences, he countered. Ive talked with the sibyls about the charge against you also.


    Well? Dont keep me in suspense, sheined.


    Youll receive a sentence the day after Michel. Ive been reasonably mild in my statement, Ghiin stated. Youll not be punished. Much, at least. Though you should find yourself another upation after this.


    Or else expect the justiciar on my trail, Im sure, risse scoffed.


    Ive also requested that youre allowed to be present for Michels trial as his only family, Ghiin continued.


    Oh. I guess thats kind of you. The admission came reluctantly.


    Master Ghiin! a voice called out indignantly. A norn came striding through the corridor. Besides the customary red robe, she also had her hair covered entirely, leaving only her face visible; it had a stern expression and a strawberry birthmark.


    Sister Jocelyne, the justiciar mumbled. You seem upset.


    I have been told you are consorting with prisoners, the norn expressed with disdain.


    Simply informing her of a few details, Ghiin remarked, looking like a dog being scolded.


    The other one, the heretic! Jocelynes face was aglow with anger. Going so far as to advise him!


    Same as here, just informing him, the justiciar defended himself. The truth will judge him, which is all I have advised him to do. Tell the truth.


    The goddess will judge him, Jocelyne sneered. Through me and the tribunal. You are her hound, fetching the prey back to your mistress. Do not presume otherwise.


    Ghiin swallowed, staring at the norn. Yes, Sister.


    Good. I expect you will keep your distance until the trial, Jocelyne dered. She marched away with determined steps.


    I am so relieved, risse said to the empty air in her cell, knowing Michel will get a fair trial with her as a judge.


    Ghiin made some grumbling sounds but no intelligible reply.


    ~~~~


    Gerard left the royal pce after a fruitless conversation with the kings seneschal. No wiser than when he had woken up this morning, the knight made his way back towards the Order keep. As was his wont, he slowed his pace to stroll through the markets, exchanging pleasantries and jests with the peddlers. He stopped in one ce to buy some dried mutton, chewing on it leisurely. At another stall, he bought a white ribbon suited for a young girls hair, stowing it inside his surcoat after paying the shopkeeper with a smile and three petties.


    The general noise of the market was disrupted by loud shrieks and people crashing into stalls. Whipping his head around and with a hand on his sword hilt, Gerard located the disturbance. A ruffian with a vicious knife had assaulted a man, shing both his body and the strings of his coin purse. Thief! Murderer! and other outbursts were shouted as the assant fled.


    Without hesitation, the knight sprinted forward, pursuing the brigand through the winding paths of the marketce. Despite his armour, Gerard kept up the pursuit, remaining less than twenty paces behind. The thief nced behind constantly, each time finding the knight hot on his heels.


    The fugitive reached the end of the market stalls and turned a corner, running down alleyways. Gerard was close by, not letting him get out of sight. As the streets grew narrow, flight became harder; the thiefs path was constantly obstructed.


    Turning down a particrly dark alley, the bandit finally stopped. Surrender, Gerard called out, drawing his sword, or I cannot guarantee your safety.


    The thief turned around to face the knight, holding his dagger. I wouldnt expect you to, he growled. Several men appeared at both ends of the alley, all of them armed.


    A sneer travelled across Gerards face. I am a knight of Adal, scum, he spat. You best surrender now.


    The attackers gave no response to this other than approaching from both sides. Gerard swung his sword back and forth to keep them at bay; while the narrow alley made it impossible for them to encircle him, it also made it difficult for him to wield his sword properly.


    The brutes eyed him carefully, exchanging nods and gestures; the knight faced three or fouring from either side. Unlike his long de, their daggers were well suited for this fight. Only the question of who would risk the first attack from Gerards sword kept them back.


    After long moments, one of them came within striking distance. Gerard shed at him, and he retreated quickly, having aplished his goal; from the other side, one of hispatriots threw himself at the knight to tackle him. Prepared for this, Gerards stance kept him standing, and he used the pommel of his sword to smash the bandit in the back of his head. The attacker fell to the ground with a groan, but as before, he had bought enough time. Hispanions swarmed forward before Gerard could bring the sword back.


    The knight fell down under the sheer weight of their assault, and they pinned him down. One held his sword arm to the ground while the others stabbed their knives through the openings of his armour. Rihimil! Gerard called out. Help me! Any further words drowned in blood. When the assants left, dark spots stained the star on his surcoat, dying the white ribbon in his pocket red.


    ~~~~


    Meanwhile, Armand assembled the courage to approach his master with a wealth of parchments and scribbles in his arms. Master Lambert? he spoke, clearing his throat.


    What is it, boy? Did you finish inspecting the oak?


    Yes, master. Its something else, he replied nervously.


    Well, what is it? Lambert squinted his eyes, looking at what Armand held. This again?


    I think my ns are finished, master. I believe my counterweight stone thrower is done.


    Youll need a better name than that, the old engineer mumbled through his beard. Very well, lets see it.


    Armand dumped the papers onto the desk in front of the master, who picked them up, one by one. Muttering to himself, Lambert went through them all. Slowly, his expression changed from a frown to incredulity. Are you sure these calctions are right?


    Yes, master. I checked them, as did my wife-to-be. She has a good head for numbers, Armand added with pride.


    Lambert put the final parchment down and looked at his apprentice. A weapon such as this would be able to throw boulders of unprecedented size across unprecedented distances, he dered astonished.


    Yes, master, Armand beamed.


    Have you shown these ns to anyone?


    Only my betrothed, master.


    Good. They are valuable. Armand, I should bring this to the attention of our guild master.


    You think so? Armands eyes widened in surprise.


    Lambert stroked his beard. This has implications that need consideration. Sign the sketches with your name, Armand, to prove ownership. I will take them to the guild master immediately, and we will proceed from there.


    Thank you, master! Armands eyes shone with delight.


    Its nothing, Lambert mumbled, watching as his apprentice took a quill, dipped it in ink, and wrote his name on each piece of parchment.


    ~~~~


    The Raven Court had no shrines for other deities; worshippers seeking any of the other divines would have to go elsewhere. The Order of the Dragon had a modest temple not far from the keep, allowing the Order knights and soldiers a ce to seek out their patron. A handful of ckrobes maintained the ce, carried out the rites, and sent messages to their superior in Middanhal about the affairs of Fontaine.


    In one of the inner chambers, Godfrey sat with the high priest of the temple. His staff leaned against the wall while a cup of water kept his hatpany on the table. Who was Sir Gerard?


    Half-brother of the marshal. Both of them were sponsored into the Order, the ckrobe exined. Had the wit to be marshal, many felt, but Sir Martel was chosen.


    Not the wit to stay alive, Godfrey muttered. When did it happen?


    It cannot have been long ago. One of my brethren saw them carry the body into the keep just a stones throw from here, and decay had not yet begun.


    Youre certain the norns are to me?


    Brigands do not attack a knight, the priest pointed out.


    Of course not, but he might have attracted other enemies.


    Possibly, but not that we are aware of. And the timing of his attack fits with his investigations.


    Godfrey let out a sigh. If this is true, the Veiled has gone too far.


    Agreed. We will investigate further, but regardless, I will write to Brother Eadric, the priest dered.


    As you wish. Godfrey took a deep breath. I need to speak with Sir Martel. Whether this will make him more or less amenable, he considered, I suppose I will find out.


    ~~~~


    The dungeons were not the only part of the Raven Court situated underground. As the norns were in charge of seeing the deadid to rest, they needed cold chambers to store the bodies and prepare them for burial. They might not always go through such trouble for paupers and the like, but a knight merited every final honour. Lying on a b, Gerards brown skin had begun to acquire the hue of death. His surcoat and armour had been removed by the Order soldiers in the keep, leaving only the inner garments for the norns to strip. Once his body was naked, cloth and water were applied to wash his wounds clean.


    You are not on duty tonight, Jocelyne remarked as she entered the chamber. She scratched the birthmark on her forehead and adjusted the hood that covered her hair, leaving not a single strand visible.


    I requested this honour, Rosalie replied. Her hands pressed the cloth across Gerards skin with movements as soft as her demeanour. Her usual shifting about in ce seemed gone in favour of focus on the task at hand. I heard tales of this man, she added with pity in her eyes. I cannot fathom why he would be in in such a senseless manner.


    That is a lesson to us all, Jocelyne dered. Those seated highest among us may still fall in the most undignified way. Seeing her sisters slow progress, the norn grabbed some rags and soaked them in water. Here, she muttered almost aggressively, joining the other norn in washing the body. Or you will never be done.


    Working this duty, Rosalie contemted, you encounter so many fates. Children, old people, rich, poor. Some die through idents that could easily have been avoided. Her eyes lost focus and her hands nearly came to a halt, rubbing the same spot over and over with little strength put into the motion.


    Your point? Jocelyne asked curtly, deftly moving across the torso that held the most wounds and dried blood.


    How can it be their fate to die? If a brick falls from a rooftop and hits a man in the head, he might die. If he had paused just moments before, maybe to admire the sight of something, he would have lived, Rosalie considered. I dont understand how Idisea determines our fate, she admitted.


    You are not the Veiled Sister, Jocelyne reminded her. You need not know the will of the goddess as long as you follow the instructions given by her servant.


    But I am one of her servants, Rosalie argued. Soon, we will sit on the tribunal to judge the heretic.


    What does that have to do with all this talk about fate? the other norn scoffed.


    Hraban spoke extensively about fate, Rosalie exined. Maybe that is what attracts people to his heresy.


    Hraban the Mad, Jocelyne sneered. Do not forget that part. They were wrong to have let him live, not to mention allow any of his ramblings to survive. They should have cut him down the moment he began spouting his falsehoods.


    But do you not find it curious that he was kept alive? asked Rosalie. She returned her attention to the work, scrubbing one of Gerards cold hands. If it truly was sphemy when he imed to hear the voice of Idisea, why did they not dare to see him dead?


    It was not a question of daring, Jocelyne sniffed, cleaning the other arm. They were simply soft-hearted. They had no idea that this and other heresies might spread. It was only after the madness of Hraban that the office of the justiciar was created. Heretics, heathens, and frauds had free reins before that.


    Rosalie gave a chuckle. I doubt it was quite as bad. This is the first trial for heresy in decades.


    Jocelyne turned her heard sharply to stare at her fellow norn. Because we do not allow it to take root. Make no mistake, Sister. Her voice had enough edge to cleave stone. As members of the tribunal, we have a sacred duty. Washing the dead is all well and good, but that is when we will truly serve the goddess.


    Perhaps, Rosalie replied, shifting back and forth on her feet under Jocelyns gaze. She moved the cloth across Gerards peaceful face. For me, I feel closest to the goddess when carrying out acts of service such as this.


    Jocelyne made a scoffing sound but no other reply, and they poured the burial oils upon the fallen knights body in silence, finishing the preparation.

 Chapter 105: Blood, Water, and Wine

    Chapter 105: Blood, Water, and Wine


    The following day, a messenger from the king summoned Belvoir to be received in audience. The messenger found the camp partly deserted, as most of the soldiers had filtered into the city already, but the duke was present to receive the summons with a smile. Commanding his retinue to saddle up, Gaspard rode ahead of the column. Surrounded by his most trusted attendants, the duke led the cortege towards Fontaine.


    With his banners proiming his identity, the guards andmon folk quickly parted before Belvoir and his men; they rode through the gate of their choice and entered the city with ease. While some people watched their progression with indifference, others gawked openly, particrly those who recognised the insignia of Belvoir and wondered what the dukes presence in Fontaine meant.


    Reaching the pce, Gaspard and his men dismounted in the courtyard. Only upon my signal, he instructed the warriors by his side in a quiet voice. We wait until my men are in position. They all nodded their assent and followed the duke into the pce, eventually entering the throne room. In the far end upon the eponymous seat sat Rainier, king of Ealond. Looking pale to the point of sickly, he was a stark contrast to the duke, who confidently strode through the room while courtiers whispered and stared.


    Approaching the throne, Gaspard walked just close enough that the royal guards became uneasy and shifted forward one step, ready to protect their liege. With a wry smile, the duke came to a halt and gave a deep bow before the king; his attendants, nking him, followed suit.


    Duke Belvoir, the king greeted him. He stroked the thin beard surrounding his lips. Despite his frail looks, his voice was strong and easily heard in the hall. I am pleased you havee as Imanded.


    I have, Your Majesty, Gaspard responded. He nced over his shoulder to look at the crowd that had gathered.


    You have brought your armies as I alsomanded, Rainier continued slowly with his gaze fixed on his vassal.


    I did. We stand ready. In contrast to the king, the dukes voice wavered, his attention elsewhere; while Rainiers eyes were locked on him, Gaspards swept the crowd once more.


    I did not expect you would bring them into the city, the king continued. I would have thought they would remain outside in camp.


    Unrest took hold of the dukes men upon hearing this, their eyes darting around the room; tension could be felt in the air by every member of the court present. They are, Your Majesty, Gaspard replied frowning.


    Strange. I have received reports that many of them, albeit in the guise ofmon folk, have been spotted throughout the city. Some by the gates, some by the Order keep, some by the bridges, and some, the king spoke slowly, in this very pce.


    Weve been betrayed, one of Belvoirs men muttered. Several of them reached for their sword hilts, though none drew des just yet.


    Calm yourselves, Gaspard hissed to them. Your Majesty, if these men are wearingmon garbs, how can they be known to be soldiers in my service?


    The king gave a superior smile. I will grant you that, Duke Belvoir.


    Some of my soldiers may have left camp in search of provisions or entertainment. If so, I assure you they will be punished, the duke promised.


    That isforting to know. However, Rainier continued, I require an exnation for this as well. He gestured to his side. From the throng of courtiers, Guilbert stepped forward to stand near the throne. He held a parchment roll in his hands.


    Upon seeing his envoy standing in the throne room, Gaspard paled. What is this? he croaked.


    Proof that you conspired against me, Duke Belvoir, the king informed him. Thankfully, this loyal subject warned me.


    That is a lie! the duke eximed. His soldiers all drew weapons, making the pce guards step forward with lowered spears. Quickly, the dukes protectors were encircled by their royal counterparts.


    Lay down your weapons and surrender, Rainier demanded, and I will show mercy.


    Mercy from a serpent, one of Gaspards warriors spat. All of them stood ready to fight, except the duke himself. All colour had drained from his face. His eyes shifted between the king and Guilbert constantly, and he seemed paralysed.


    Milord! one of the beleaguered soldiers called out. Do we fight?


    Gaspard swallowed. His previous confidence had evaporated. The pce guards took another step forward, tightening their ranks; their spears left not the smallest gap. Staring down at the metal tips pointed at him only five paces away, resignation flooded the dukes countenance. We yield, he mumbled. His hands unsped his belt, letting it and the scabbard by his side fall to the ground. His men stared at him and each other in disbelief, but Gaspards surrender sapped any will to fight. One after the other, they threw their weapons down.


    Arrest them, the king ordered his men. At spear point, the guards led the prisoners away. Gaspard sent a final look towards Guilbert, who returned it coldly. The court, which had been deadly silent during the confrontation, burst into chatter upon seeing the foremost nobleman in the realm brought low. Letting his gaze sweep over the men and women, the king raised his hand tomand silence.


    I sit upon this throne as my father did before me, Rainier proimed in a loud voice, not mentioning that his grandfather had been a lowly count. It is mine by right. By challenging this, Duke Belvoir hasmitted the most egregious of crimes. Treason. The king paused, slowly moving his gaze to make it appear as if he was staring at each of his courtiers individually. Unlike those who would usurp my rightful crown, I am not tyrant, he dered. Duke Belvoir will be given a fair chance to exin his actions, and evidence will be brought that none may be in doubt of his guilt. The king nced to his side at Guilbert, who replied with a short bow. I bid you all remember this day. Let it be a lesson to any who might conspire against theirwful sovereign, Rainier concluded, standing up. As he stepped away from his throne and walked out of the room, every single man and woman in the hall bowed low before him.


    ~~~~


    At the Order keep, the mood was sombre. The man regarded by many as the premier knight of the realm had been in in an ignominious manner by brigands and left to die in an alley. While daily activities continued as usual, talking urred in a suppressed fashion among the remaining knights and soldiers. Even the servants felt the oppressive atmosphere that permeated the castle, behaving with less cheer than usual.


    A cart carrying barrels of apples drove into the courtyard. The driver and a henchman jumped down from the cart and began to unload while the guards scarcely gave them a second nce; one of them exchanged a few words with the driver while the helper began to roll one of the barrels inside the actual keep. As soon as he was inside and away from prying eyes, he abandoned the barrel; checking his surroundings one more time, Godfrey ventured deeper into the castle.


    On asion, the faintest sound of footsteps falling, clothes wrinkling, or anything of the sort announced the approach of another. Each time, Godfrey found an alcove, a corner, or anything like that to hide in. Whether soldier or servant, none of them noticed the stealthy wanderer, regardless of how close they walked past him; each time Godfrey became aware of someone else, his own presence remained hidden.


    Moving upwards, Godfrey came several floors up the main tower of the keep. The further up he came, the fewer people he encountered, making his progress faster, and he began to rx. Entering yet another corridor, he stared at the various doors ahead of him. They all looked the same, none of them giving any clue as to whaty behind. A start went through him, and he turned around to see a young servant girl holding a broom staring at him.


    Returning her gaze with a perplexed expression, Godfrey gathered his wits and cleared his throat. Pardon me, young mistress.


    I dont speak your silly words, Najat replied in Suthspeech.


    Forgive me twice, in that case, Godfrey told her, pronouncing the words in her native tongue as if he had been born and raised in Alczar himself.


    Her mouth opened in surprise. You speak the same as me.


    Indeed, young mistress, Godfrey twinkled. I am an acquaintance of Sir Martel, the marshal. Do you know of him?


    She nodded. Hes real kind. But right now, hes also real sad, because his brother got killed. Sorrow overtook her own expression. Were all sad about that.


    Godfrey nodded a bit, crouching down to be at her eye level. I heard about that. In a way, that is why I am here. I need to speak to Sir Martel.


    Will you make him feel better? He needs that, Najat told him.


    Godfrey gave her a reluctant smile. I honestly cannot say. I think right now, nothing can lift the sadness in his heart. He carefully reached out a finger to prod Najat on the left side where her own hearty inside. The slight tickle made her giggle despite the heavy topic of their conversation. But one day, I hope he will look back and feel better, knowing he did the right thing on this day.


    Najat seemed to ponder his words, biting on her lip. You went up too far. Sir Martels room is the floor below. First door on your dominant hand.


    Much obliged, kind mistress, Godfrey told her with a smile. Standing up, he gave a slight bow; a little flustered, Najat returned the gesture.


    The marshal of Ealond stood by the window in his chamber, staring at Fontaine. The charge of his office was to maintain the high kings peace throughout the realm, regardless of whether the warmonger was a simple baron rebelling against his liege or the king of the rivends himself. Having only a few hundred men at his disposal, it did not seem like there was much Sir Martel could actually do. Behind him, hanging upon an armour rack, was a chain shirt with broken rings and bloodied metal.


    There was a knock on the door. I do not wish to be disturbed, the marshal called out while keeping his gaze out of the window. The cracking of the door being opened could be heard. Martel swung around. I thought I made myself clear, he growled.


    You did, Sir Martel, Godfrey admitted. s, the Realms cannot indulge you.


    The knight narrowed his eyes, scowling at the intruder. If you think I need to wait for the guards to throw you out of this window, you are mistaken.


    Godfrey nced at Martels imposing physique. I have no doubt of that. From inside his coat, Godfrey pulled out a parchment scroll. Ie for another reason. The Order is leaderless and thus bing powerless.


    Who are you? the marshal growled, crossing the room to stand in front of Godfrey and stare him down.


    Who I am does not matter inparison to what I have to say, the shorter man retorted, raising the scroll in front of himself. Grant me a moment of your time to listen. If you disagree, you may toss me out of as many windows as you desire afterwards.


    ~~~~


    Belvoirs men had been distributed throughout the dungeons of the royal pce; the duke himself was chained up in a separate cell and kept apart from anyone else. He had been almost docile since his arrest and subsequent incarceration; that ended when the door to his prison was opened and Guilbert stepped inside.


    You! Gaspard spat out.


    Guilbert kept himself by the door, beyond reach of the chained prisoner. He held a handkerchief in front of his nose, shielding it from the smell and slightly muffling his speech. I have been sent on behalf of the king to offer his mercy to you.


    Why did you betray me? the duke roared, struggling against his shackles.


    You betrayed the king, Guilbert corrected him. I am a loyal subject.


    I showed you every kindness! the prisoner eximed. Where others would have kept you hidden or sent you away in shame, I treated you like family!


    A contemptuous smile appeared on Guilberts face, and he removed the handkerchief that the duke might see it. Like family. Such choice of words. You treated me with the kindness shown to a hound expected to fetch for its master and be grateful for the privilege! I may be a bastard, Gaspard, he sneered, but I am no dog!


    I let you dine at my table, I trusted you!


    You used me when it suited you, Guilbert retorted. Sent on tasks for dubious goals fitting for my low birth, allowing you to cast me aside if ever needed.


    I would never have done such a thing, the duke protested. I am not a miserable wretch like you!


    You are the one in chains. Between us, I would call you the wretch, his former servant argued.


    Gaspard sent the other man a disdainful look. If our father could see you now, it would tear him apart!


    His half-brother stared at him. That is the first time you have ever acknowledged our kinship in words or deed.


    And thest. If it kills me, by the Seven and Eighth I swear, I will avenge your treachery, Gaspard dered.


    You will not. You will be dead by tomorrow, Guilbert dered tly.


    The kings position is not so strong he can execute me at will, the duke imed.


    The treaty between you and Jarl Vale is proof of your guilt, among other things.


    That document does not prove any intention to take the throne, Gaspard countered. Pledging to support Jarl Vale in ending a rebellion is not against thew.


    Maybe not explicitly, but seeking an alliance with foreign rulers does cast suspicion upon you, Guilbert imed. We will find more proof if need be, but the king is prepared to offer you terms.


    I will not make this easy for him, the duke stated.


    You should if you have any regard for your family.


    Alois has done nothing! eximed Gaspard.


    He is the son of a traitor. We all bear the burdens of our fathers transgressions, Guilbert told him with a sardonic smile. Yet if you admit your guilt publicly, Alois will be allowed to inherit your title andnds.


    How can you do this? The duke wrung his hands together, making the chains nk against the stone floor. Alois is your blood!


    It is toote to remind me of that, Guilbert remarked. This is the kings offer. If you refuse to cooperate, not only will you still be executed, Alois will be made destitute.


    You fiend!


    You have the rest of the day to consider your answer. I shall return for it tomorrow morning. Stashing his handkerchief, Guilbert turned and left the cell.


    ~~~~


    Every guild had a meeting hall in Fontaine. Some of the smaller or less prestigious guilds shared one; in fact, the water bearers and tallow chandlers shared their location with the fishmongers, much to their chagrin. As one of the wealthiest and most prestigious associations, the engineers guildhall was among the grandest in the city. Apart fromrge chambers to conduct meetings and hold feasts for the members, it also held living quarters for the current master of the guild.


    Most apprentices only entered the building twice during their tutge. The first time would be when they were taken on by a master, signing the papers and paying the fee associated therewith, and the second time when their apprenticeship waspleted and they were acknowledged as journeymen within the trade.


    As an exception to this, Armand he entered the guildhall, staring around with curious eyes. By his side was Master Lambert. Through there, the old engineer told his apprentice, motioning at a set of doors. Ill see you afterwards, he mumbled.


    Thank you again, master, Armand smiled, opening the doors to pass through them.


    In the next chamber, he was met by a man beckoning for him to follow. This way. While appearing to be a house servant, he wore clothes meant for being outdoors; his grim appearance and silent behaviour did not invite any questions, and Armand followed him quietly.


    Moving through the building, the dour-looking man eventually opened another door and gestured for Armand to step through. The apprentice did so, entering a study of sorts. In the middle was a table with a bundle of parchments upon it. Next to it, a man in fine clothes sat. As if his garbs did not dere his wealth, a gold chain ran across his stomach.


    Master Donatien, Armand gasped. I did not expect


    You know who I am, the other man smiled. Behind them, the door was closed.


    I do. I mean, I recognise the chain of your office. Armand nced at it.


    Then it serves its purpose, the alderman chuckled. Please, be seated.


    Looking dumbfounded, Armand sat down. I thought I was meeting the guild master.


    That was the n, but your design is of such interest to the guilds, he involved me.


    Are you familiar with the art of engineering, master alderman?


    Donatien gave a shrug. I have a meagre understanding of it.


    I was hoping to discuss the model  Armand began eagerly, but he was cut off.


    Are these numbers correct? Will your stone thrower be able to hurl boulders of this weight across such distances?


    Armand paused, looking at the parchments indicated by the alderman. Yes, Im certain of it. It can be proven once we build it, but the arithmetic is correct.


    I was told your betrothed helped you in that regard.


    She did, Armand smiled. She has a mind for that.


    Was she involved in designing the weapon?


    She helped with some details, though the design is my invention, Armand exined.


    I see, the alderman nodded. May I offer you wine?


    Armand nced around the room. I couldnt ask you  I mean, allow me to serve


    Not at all, Donatien smiled and stood up. Turning his back to Armand, he walked over to a small drawer, upon which stood several cups and a pitcher of wine. While the apprentice looked at his sketches again, the alderman poured the wine. Picking up the goblets, he ced one in front of Armand and sat down with the other.


    Thank you, the apprentice mumbled flustered.


    No trouble at all. Let us drink to your design, Master Armand. The alderman raised his cup, and Armand followed suit, taking a healthy sip. He grimaced slightly at the taste of the undiluted wine, but did not remark upon it.


    Perhaps I should speak with my guild master, Armand suggested carefully.


    Unfortunately, we are faced with a dilemma, Donatien informed him with regret in his voice. The situation isplicated, but I feel that I owe you an exnation.


    About what?


    Bear with me, Donatien requested. You could not be aware of this, but the guilds are always in an anxious rtionship with the king.


    The king?


    Donatien nodded. The kings of Ealond depend on the wealth that the guilds create. Yet our king, whether the current one or his predecessors, are always greedy for more. In my time alone, both King Rainier and his father before him have attempted to raise taxes upon us several times.


    I see, Armand imed, though his confused expression gainsaid his words.


    Fortunately, we always have means to prevent this. Simply put, we starve Fontaine of trade and divert it elsewhere. We direct our ships to make port in Herbergja rather than Portesur. From there, we send it north through Vidrevi to Middanhal rather than to Fontaine. In this manner, we deprive the king of other taxes until he relents.


    Thats clever, Armand assented.


    Of course, this requires Herbergja to be in the hands of the kings of Thusund and not Ealond. If King Rainier controlled both the major ports on the maind, we would be at his mercy.


    I see, Armand reiterated, frowning.


    The main reason that the kings of Ealond have never taken Herbergja is that the city is so difficult to besiege. The river mouth makes it difficult for siege engines to approach onnd, and our king does not have the fleet to attack the city on sea.


    Forgive me, master alderman, but what does this have to do with me?


    Our king is gathering men and provisions. He is nning a campaign, Donatien exined. I would not imagine he stands any chance of taking Herbergja, the alderman considered, until I heard about your weapon.


    You think the king wishes to use my stone thrower? Armand asked excitedly.


    With its range and strength, it could seed against the walls of Herbergja where battering rams might not, Donatien admitted. For this reason, the guilds cannot allow your weapon to exist.


    Armand sat with an open mouth. Youre not here to help me.


    On the contrary.


    The apprentice gathered his wits and began doing the same to his sketches. Ill find someone else, he coughed, standing up and piling the parchments together.


    You will not, Master Armand. Regret filled the aldermans voice, making the apprentice look at him.


    What do you mean? he asked, followed by a coughing fit.


    The wine. I am sorry, but we cannot risk it. The king would have the guilds in a stranglehold, Donatien exined as Armand fell to the floor, gasping for breath. As alderman, it is my duty to protect their interests above everything else. Even one of our own members. Armand tried to speak, but he could only manage a wheezing sound. A few momentster, the sound stopped, and the apprenticey still. The alderman walked over to the door and knocked.


    His grim servant entered, holding a linen sheet. Its done, he remarked prosaically, unfolding the sheet on the floor.


    You know what to do, Donatien remarked.


    The servant nodded and rolled Armands corpse onto the fabric, wrapping him up. Hell be found in a day, maybe two. His woman?


    Keep an eye on her for now. The alderman collected Armands sketches where they had been dropped on the floor and left his servant to his task.


    ~~~~


    A peddler was leaving Fontaine, driving a cart containing his supplies and trade goods. Some of it were spices, mostly pepper, while the rest werebs, buttons, ribbons, and the like, which he might sell to the viges dotting thend beyond the city. By his side on the drivers seat was a wanderer, who had been given a ride in exchange for a few pieces of silver and the promise of good stories.


    I know just the one to tell you, Godfrey imed, adjusting his hat. His walking staffy behind him in the cart. Have you ever been told the reason why the fountain inside the Raven Court is sacred?


    Youll have to do better than that, the peddler told him in a good-humoured manner. I have heard at least a dozen stories on that ount.


    But this one is true, Godfrey specified, raising a finger. Do you know of Eirik Wyrmbane?


    The driver frowned. I cant say that I do. Name sounds foreign.


    He was an inder, hispanion exined. Upon the very site where the Raven Court now lies, he did battle with a fearsome creature that would rival Hel in terror.


    The peddler grinned and nodded a few times. Tell me more, friend.

 Chapter 106: Hraban

    Chapter 106: Hraban


    Master Guilbert is here, Your Majesty.


    The king nodded. Show him in.


    Guilbert entered the kings study and gave a flourishing bow. Your Majesty.


    What did Belvoir decide?


    I am happy to inform Your Majesty that the duke has epted your magnanimous offer, Guilbert replied with a satisfied expression.


    Rainier stroked the thin beard on his chin. I did not think he would, given his excessive pride. I underestimated you, Master Guilbert.


    His family, especially his son, is his weak point, Guilbert exined with a sly expression. Enough pressure applied, and I knew he would cave.


    You have done well. The executioner will have work to do.


    I live to serve. Guilbert offered another bow.


    I will be pleased if this matter can be resolved swiftly. It gives me time tounch my campaign before summer begins. Will Alois of Belvoir be a problem? the king asked.


    He can be pragmatic, Guilbert considered. I think he will consider himself fortunate if his fathers treason only costs him his father and not his title as well.


    Can he be trusted not to betray me the moment my back is turned?


    If he considers Your Majesty to be vulnerable, he may strike, seeking vengeance. The boy is quite attached to his father, Guilbert revealed.


    He will have to be removed, Rainier decided. I cannot have Belvoir in hostile hands. One of my cousins may be suited to assume the title of duke. I will need those forces to take Herbergja.


    Your Majesty knows best. Guilbert gave another bow. What of the sibyls?


    How certain is their involvement?


    It is beyond the shadow of doubt, Your Majesty. The sibyl in the town of Belvoir sent and received messages between the Raven Court and the duke. I doubt the duke would have dared this ill-conceived attempt of a coup without the Veiled standing ready to legitimise his rule and crown him king.


    Rainier was quiet for a moment, contemting the situation. Punishing the sibyl at Belvoir within or outside the limits of thew should not be difficult. Punishing the Veiled Sister, on the other hand, may not be in my power.


    Unless damning evidence can be found, Your Majesty. If the sibyl at Belvoir confesses and implicates the Veiled, you have cause to arrest her, Guilbert suggested.


    Evidence is not the issue, Rainier lectured him. The sibyls have a strong hold on Ealond. Moving against them is no easy matter. Perhaps that will be one of your tasks, the king considered. Find a way to force the Raven Court under my control.


    I would be delighted, Your Majesty. Guilbert bowed his head. May I ask a question that may broaden my understanding of my masters affairs?


    You have earned that privilege, Rainier granted graciously.


    Why the trouble of negotiating with Belvoir to make him confess his guilt? The treaty between him and Jarl Vale alone would turn the other nobles against him.


    The king smiled sardonically. Negotiating that treaty was ingenious, Master Guilbert, and I foresee great use of your skills in the future. If I revealed it now, it would certainly be damaging to Belvoirs reputation as well as Vale, Rainier exined, but I would gain nothing further from it. As long as only I know of this treaty, it can be used as a bargaining tool.


    Understanding illuminated Guilberts face. When Your Majesty takes Herbergja, Jarl Vale will object and seek to undermine your conquest. Making the treaty public at the same time will tarnish his reputation.


    Indeed, Rainier smiled. He will be revealed as a conspirator who sought to steal my throne and give it to another. Neither the Order nor the rulers and noblemen of the realms will heed his words.


    Most impressive, Your Majesty.


    Your skills as a negotiator will be needed when the timees. Continue to serve me well, Master Guilbert, and I will remember your name when I need a new seneschal some day.


    Guilbert bowed deeply. The honour alone of serving Your Majesty is a privilege without measure.


    I am aware, Rainier assented. You are dismissed. After more bowing and scraping, Guilbert left the king alone.


    ~~~~


    A few days after Armands demise, his betrothed entered the meeting hall for the guild of engineers. Having never been there before, she nced around nervously until a man with a brusque demeanour appeared. Are you Nicolette? he asked.


    I am, she replied cautiously. I was told the guild wanted to meet me concerning my  about Armand.


    Follow me.


    Nicolette did so while her eyes darted in every direction. On asion, they passed a clerk in the employ of the guild or some of its members, engineers discussing their work; others were engrossed in arguing about thetest events, such as the execution of the duke of Belvoir.


    Passing through the halls, Nicolette reached the same chamber where Armand had once sat. The table itself was empty, but the alderman sat next to it. Behind her, the door closed. Mistress Nicolette, Donatien greeted her.


    Master alderman, she replied. I did not expect


    When I heard of what happened to your husband-to-be, I decided to be involved myself, Donatien exined.


    That is kind of you, Nicolette spoke, though she sounded uncertain.


    Dreadful business, the alderman added with sympathy in his voice. I am told Armand  that was his name, was it not?


    It was.


    I am told he showed great promise, Donatien continued, and even invented his own siege machinery.


    He did, Nicolette nodded repeatedly. He was smart.


    His master told me that you aided him in this.


    Oh, my contribution was small. I merely helped with some adjustments.


    I only ask because I imagine your situation is now difficult. The aldermans voice and face both expressed his concern. If you were able to recreate this weapon, the guild would no doubt pay you for it.


    Im not an engineer, Nicolette replied. I merely used the basic principles of counterweights to adjust Armands design. How it precisely worked, I dont know.


    Donatien nodded to himself. I see. My apologies, you must feel uneasy. May I offer you some wine?


    Thats kind of you.


    The alderman got up and poured two cups of wine, cing one before her. You may not be aware of this, but when a guild member dies, his seat in the guild is offered to his wife. Assuming she is skilled in the same trade, of course.


    Nicolette took a sip of her wine. Thank you, master alderman, I feel better, she told him, putting the wine down. I was aware of that, she continued, but Armand and I werent married. Nor do I really know anything about engineering work.


    But you have the mind for it, Donatien pointed out. Having lost Armand, the guild feels it would be a shame to lose you as well. I have spoken with Master Lambert, and he is willing to teach you as his new apprentice.


    Me? But I cant afford the fee, Nicolette admitted.


    Donatien made a dismissive gesture. In light of what you have already lost, the fee will be waived. You may begin next Disday.


    Really? Tears begin to appear in her eyes.


    Of course, dear child. The guild needs people like you to prosper. You may not have been married to Armand yet, but given your betrothal, that seems a mere formality. We take care of our own, Donatien told her, drinking from his own cup.


    Thank you, Nicolette told him with a few houghs.


    I am happy to help, Donatien imed. The wine may help clear your throat, he added with a smile.


    Nicolette smiled through her tears, emptying her cup. What should I do now?


    Return the way you came and find the clerk in the records hall, Donatien instructed her. He will see that you are inscribed as an apprentice. The alderman stood up and opened the door for her.


    Thank you, Nicolette repeated before she walked out of the room.


    Once she was gone, the aldermans servant entered. You sure I shouldnt deal with her?


    Donatien shook his head. There doesnt seem to be any need. She will be observed. And Master Lambert has strict instructions never to teach her anything rted to siege machinery, he added with a dry voice.


    Very well, master.


    The alderman poured himself another cup of wine and drank heavily. Im d this business is dealt with. Have the carriage made ready.


    Yes, master.


    ~~~~


    For days, Michel had been incarcerated in the dungeons of the Raven Court. Despite this, his demeanour remained friendly and courteous; he greeted the guards as they entered his cell and unshackled him, leading him away. They walked for a long while with the prisoner between them, not speaking a single word as they went up countless flights of stairs to reach the chamber of the Veiled.


    The curtain had been removed, and a small tribune had been raised instead with three seats. In the middle sat the Veiled Sister, her face covered as customary. She had Sister Jocelyne on one side and Sister Rosalie on the other, forming the tribunal of the Order of the Raven.


    Besides the guards apanying the prisoner, two other people were present. Ghiin, appearing as a witness, and risse, rted to the used. Thetter moved over to embrace her brother; one of the guards stepped in her path. Let them have a moment, Ghiin demanded, and the temple guardsplied, stepping back.


    risse gave Michel a tight hug, and he patted her on the head. It will all be well, Sister, he told her.


    For once, you better be right, she sniffed.


    Michel smiled, pulling away. He looked towards Ghiin. Master Justice, he greeted him.


    Michel. The justiciar nodded back.


    Take care of my sister, Michel requested.


    Enough. Let this trial begin, the Veiledmanded. Ghiin pulled risse to the side, letting Michel stand alone in the middle of the room under the gaze of the three norns. Michel from Jaler, you stand used of heresy as a follower of Hraban the Mad. Do you deny this?


    I do not.


    Gods, risse eximed with a lump in her throat.


    Silence, Jocelyne sneered. Anger was flushing her cheeks as red as the birthmark on her forehead.


    Your sentence will depend on the extent of your heretical beliefs and whether the Council of Three believes there is any hope of redemption for you, the Veiled continued. You will answer all our questions, after which Master Justice Ghiin will bear witness. Do you understand?


    Yes, Michel replied.


    Tell the truth, Master Michel, Rosalie encouraged him, sping and unsping her hands in constant motion. It is your best friend.


    I shall, the defendant promised with a smile.


    Who instructed you in the heresies of Hraban? enquired the Veiled.


    A whiterobe in my home vige, whose temple acted as a lorehouse for the children of the town. He has been dead for many years.


    The justiciars will investigate further, rest assured, Jocelyne dered with a disdainful look.


    Exin the full extent of your knowledge concerning Hraban and his sphemies, the Veiledmanded.


    I imagine theres one youre particrly interested in hearing about, Michel considered. I believe that Hraban heard the voice of the goddess.


    The hall fellpletely silent for a moment. sphemy, Jocelyne hissed with barred teeth.


    No man has ever heard the voice of Idisea, the Veiled dered forcefully. Only the sisters of Idiseas order has this blessing.


    That is what you believe, Michel granted, bowing his head, yet I disagree. I think your predecessors did as well. That is why they dared not kill Hraban, but locked him away, recording all he said.


    Silence! Jocelyne shrieked. You are here to answer our questions, not spout your falsehoods!


    Sister, please, Rosalie implored her.


    Nor do I think he was the only man to ever hear the voice of the goddess.


    More heresy! Jocelyne was nearly frothing at the mouth. They should have killed Hraban where he stood.


    Revered sisters, Ghiin spoke up. The used deserves a fair hearing.


    Perhaps we should let him speak until he has finished his confessions, Rosalie suggested.


    Order will be restored, the Veiled demanded, and themotion subsided. As for you, heretic, you will not speak unless in direct answer to us.


    I dream of ravens, Michel proimed, raising his voice. He seemed to stare beyond the tribunal at something none others could see. Ever since I was a child, and now, every night in my cell. A raven flies across thend, and its ck feathers blot out the sun.


    Quiet! the Veiled demanded.


    The eagle has flown ahead in flight, the prisoner continued, and now the cry of the raven is heard. It shatters my ears. An agonised expression was upon his face. The rivers of Ealond turn to blood. Everyone inside the chamber looked at him mesmerised, except for the Veiled and Jocelyne; the former seemed intimidated and thetter infuriated. Dragons blood, dragons blood, death across thend! Thest words reverberated across the chamber. A ship lost at sea, weve strayed from the course. The ravens cry continues every night, but we do not heed its call, Michel finished, gazing at the Veiled.


    Jocelyne leapt to stand in front of the tribune. Are we to simply sit and listen to this repulsive speech? She sent her sisters a furious look. Hraban was left to live, and centuriester, we are still dealing with his false teachings. Only the sisters of the Order of the Raven have the blessing of prophecy, she stated loudly, turning to face Michel. She strode across the chamber, staring up at the used.


    Sister Jocelyne, please, Rosalie pleaded, wringing her hands.


    Return to your seat, the Veiled told her, though her voice was weak.


    You would take our ce? Jocelyne sneered, looking straight into Michels face.


    I have no desire of that, he informed her. I simply told you what was necessary to say.


    Jocelyne stared at him. You are beyond redemption, she stated coldly. The next moment, she pulled her knife out of his stomach.


    Due to the obstructed view, the others did not readily understand the reason why Michel sank to the floor. The truth only became apparent when the bloody dagger in Jocelynes hand reflected the sunlight shining through the window. Michel! risse screamed, throwing herself at her brothers body.


    Jocelyne, what did you do? Rosalie eximed. She hurried forward to reach the dying man.


    I had to, Jocelyne dered. The dagger fell to the ground, making a loud ringing sound. The guards stared in shock, unprepared for this turn of events.


    On the floor, Michel gasped for breath, trying to speak; no words escaped his lips. Help me! Rosalie demanded, trying to stem the bleeding with her hands. As the only one to react, Ghiin moved to aid her. The Veiled simply sat in her seat, looking at the spectacle.


    I had to do it, Jocelyne reiterated. He would have been like Hraban. I had to protect our faith. Behind her, risse rose from the ground like an avenging spirit; in her hand was the knife. She renewed the stain on the de by plunging it into Jocelynes back.


    With a shriek, the norn fell to the ground. The guards finally woke from their stupor and they hurried forward to seize risse, who simply dropped the knife and gave no resistance. Rosalie looked helplessly at her fallen sister; her hands were already soaked in Michels blood. Together, norn and heretic took their final breaths while the Veiled sat in her seat, paralysed.


    Ghiin was the first to pull himself together. Standing up, he grabbed hold of risse with his bloody hands. Protect the Veiled, hemanded the guards. Ill get her to a cell. Neither guard protested, letting the justiciar take hold of the prisoner and lead her out of the chamber.


    With speed, Ghiin moved through the Raven Court, pushing risse ahead of him. Theyll recover soon enough and wonder what happened to you, the justiciar told her. You dont have much time if you want to escape.


    Youre letting me go?


    Tomorrow, Ill be hunting you. Today, Im giving you a chance for Michels sake.


    They turned a corner and practically ran down a flight of stairs. Neither spoke as they moved through the temple. They drew many stares, but none saw reason to question the actions of a justiciar. Eventually, they reached the courtyard that led into the city.


    She deserved it, risse stated spitefully. She killed him because he was right.


    It doesnt matter now, Ghiin dered. Get going. He nodded towards the entrance into the yard. I take no responsibility for what happens next. risse sent him a final look, but she did not speak again; silently, she turned and hastened to cross the square, leaving the Raven Court.


    It took her another hour to hurry through the city and reach the nearest gate. Without looking back, she left Fontaine. Had she cast a nce behind after leaving the gate, she would have seen the duke of Belvoirs head on a spike, ced as a warning to all that would betray the king.

 Chapter 107: Adeline

    Chapter 107: Adeline


    While the execution of Duke Belvoir caused upheaval in Fontaine, routine quickly returned. Several weekster, the city seemed the same as ever, and the arrival of a carriage with ten protectors aroused little attention. Only those few who recognised the surcoats of the guards stared in wonder; it was an ashen tree on ck, signalling the Temple in Middanhal and marking the wearer as a Temr knight.


    As the carriage and riders entered the yard of the Raven Court, the sisters were among those who knew the tabard of the Temrs. All eyes turned towards the carriage, realising who was inside. The door opened, and a small, old man in grey robes stepped out with a kind smile.


    While one of the Temrs spoke with the norns present, bidding them to summon the Council of Three, the remainder formed a protective circle around the Highfather. He crossed the courtyard to drink from the sacred fountain, bending down with some difficulty. One of his protectors helped him to stand up afterwards. Thanking the Temr, the priest adjusted his robe and sat down upon the stonework surrounding the fountain.


    The Temrs remained in a circle around the Highfather; while their expressions were nk, their great swords and imposing presence kept everyone at bay. In contrast, Septimus sent smiling eyes in every direction from inside his ring of protectors.


    After a while, the Veiled appeared along with Sister Rosalie, the former hiding her face as customary. By now, the courtyard was full of servants, norns, acolytes, guards, justiciars, and anyone else who dwelt in the Raven Court, and all were staring at the little man in the grey robe. The Temrs pushed people back and let Septimus approach the sisters leading the Order of the Raven. As he stood before them, Rosalie knelt, kissing his hand. After a moments hesitation, the Veiled did the same, and she quickly stood up again. A tall woman, she had to look down to lock eyes with the Highfather. Archon, she greeted him, we had no word of youring.


    I saw no need to kick up dust, Septimus smiled. You are Sister Rosalie? he questioned the second norn.


    I am, Holy One, she beamed, almost shaking with excitement.


    He nodded a bit to himself. Only two of you.


    Sister Jocelyne has not yet been reced, the Veiled exined stiffly. Her demise was so tragic and sudden, we are still in mourning.


    Of course. Septimus nodded a few more times. Strange business. The return of Hraban, murder in this very chamber.


    The heretic did not im to be Hraban, the high priestess corrected him impatiently. He merely espoused the same false beliefs.


    I see. Same unfortunate result.


    It was terrible, Rosalie interjected, nodding vigorously. Both their deaths should have been avoided.


    I agree. In fact, I believe I sent you a warning. Septimus voice grew harsh, and the onlookers exchanged nces. Rosalie stepped back several paces while her superior straightened her back.


    This was an internal matter, the Veiled retorted tight-lipped. It concerns only me as high priestess of the sibyls.


    Septimus gave another nod, ncing around the room. I will admit that. He returned his gaze to the Veiled. Your meddling in the affairs of this realm are very much my concern, on the other hand.


    Gasps of disbelief could be heard across the courtyard. Archon  the Veiled tried to intervene, but she was immediately interrupted.


    You conspired to cause changes on such a scale, the upheaval would have shaken the foundation of the Alliance of Adalmearc, Septimus spoke, raising his voice. It rang across the courtyard. Did you not consider the reprisals against our faith? Not to mention that you set aside your sacred duties as servants to the divines, tainting your office with profane dealings. All kindness was gone, and the little man seemed fused with anger.


    I have done nothing of the sort! the Veiled defended herself with a shaky voice. Where is the evidence?


    I know! Septimus roared, which seemed incapable for a man of his stature. I know of the messages sent in the dead of night, of ns made, of the blood that stains your face! His finger was pointed in usation at her.


    The norns hands shot up to her veil as if she could physically feel the stains underneath the fabric. Its a lie, she imed, her voice growing weak. Its all a lie. I did it all for the faith.


    You did it for your own ambition, Septimus dered. Adeline, he continued coldly. I havee to disrobe you. The crowd erupted in murmurs, but none intervened; the Temr stood like a fortress surrounding the Highfather and the Veiled, discouraging any from approaching.


    No! came the outburst from the Veiled, but there was no mercy to be found. Septimus gave a short nod, and two Temrs grabbed hold of the norn, tearing the veil and red robe from her. Left only with her linen dress underneath, they pushed her to her knees in front of Septimus; transformed from a kind, old man in in robes, he stared down upon her naked face like a vengeful god.


    Adeline, you have forsaken your holy vows, he began, stretching out his hand to hold it over her head. He continued with a chanting voice. By the Seven and Eighth, this doom I proim upon you.


    No, she sobbed, grabbing the torn veil from the ground and pressing it against her face.


    Let no shrine in thisnd offer you sanctuary. No shelter may you find. The river shall not ke your thirst, the field will not satiate your hunger, the forest will give no sour. Never shall you rest where the eyes of the dragon, the raven, the bull, the horse, the bear, the hart, and the eagle are upon you, Septimus continued. He ceased chanting and continued with an icy tone. Adeline, I name you oath breaker.


    The Temrs let go of the disgraced norn, and she copsed onto the cobbled stones, dissolving into tears. Without another word, Septimus entered his carriage, and his guards mounted their horses. They departed from the courtyard, leaving every person stunned.


    ~~~~


    While the fate of Duke Belvoir had given Fontaine something to discuss, his execution had not impacted the city as such; to most residents of Fontaine, the duchy of Belvoir was in the other end of the realm and of little interest. The Veiled Sister being disrobed was another matter; every man or woman in the capital held one of two opinions. Either it was felt that the Highfather had overstepped his authority and like a foreign invader vited Ealond as assuredly as if he had murdered the king, or people were convinced he had done so with good reason. Usually, those reasons were aided by wild stories concerning debauchery in the Raven Court. The conspicuous death of a heretic and a member of the Council of Three prior to the disrobing of the Veiled only fuelled these rumours further.


    No doubt Fontaine could have discussed this matter for at least two or three more weeks, had not other news reached the capital. These tidings arrived from Belvoir, and the good citizens of Fontaine finally had a reason to care about the duchy. It turned out that while Duke Gaspard had brought a number of soldiers with him during his ill-fated attempt to usurp the throne, he had left most of his army back in Belvoir. Furthermore, few of his soldiers had actually been apprehended in Fontaine; when the revolt failed, most had simply found their way home in the following weeks. Measured in arms, Belvoir was the most powerful of the duchies of Ealond, and despite Gaspards failed ns, this strength remained. His son, Alois, had shown himself aware of this.


    After making an example of Gaspard, the king had been gathering his other vassals and their armies to Fontaine, preparing a campaign. Reluctantly, the guilds were supplying provisions of every sort, and spection was rampant as to the kings intentions. While preparations were still underway, Rainiermanded part of the army to march east swiftly under themand of trusted, loyal vassals. It eventually became clear that while the king had another campaign in mind entirely, he had decided to upy the region of Belvoir while his remaining armies gathered. This would prevent any kind of unrest and allow his choice for the new duke to assume the position and consolidate it, keeping thergest fief in the realm on hands friendly to the king.


    As it turned out, the current duke, albeit new to the title himself, had surmised as much and gathered his own armies. While mostly unproven in war, Alois did not seem hindered by this or in any way timid. He had ambushed the kings forces sent to wrest control of the duchy from him, routing thempletely with few losses. As summer began, those were the news that reached Fontaine and King Rainier, making all forget about the Highfathers visit the city; Alois, the new duke of Belvoir, was in open rebellion against the throne.

 Chapter 108: The Price of Bread

    Chapter 108: The Price of Bread


    Seven men walked east in the shadow of the Weolcan Mountains. A young swordsman set the course, followed by two warriors with equal arms. Behind followed two archers with longbows of Hthian make. A bard and a sergeant of the Order, too young that he should ever have been conscripted, brought up the rear. Conversation was sparse; each man had a haggard look in his eyes, only asionally reced by hunger. Every time they came across a small brook flowing down the mountainside, they drank greedily and filled every container at their disposal. Satiating their stomachs with water could only chase the hunger away temporarily, though, and famished expressions soon returned.


    Milord, we cant keep this up, Geberic spoke quietly, having taken a few extra paces to walk alongside Brand.


    I am aware.


    Unless lucks on our side and wee across game, weve got nothing to eat.


    I am aware, Brand repeated curtly.


    Of course, milord, Geberic muttered.


    They continued the march in silence for a while longer. Eventually, Brand nced behind and was met by the resigned faces of his men. This is the fastest way to our goal, Brand exined in a low voice that only Geberic might hear. And in this rocky terrain, it will be hard for any to pick up our tracks.


    I never doubt you have good reason, milord, the old man-at-arms imed. And I know the men, theyll neverin. We all chose this. But, he continued hesitantly, a bow staff doesntin either when its being pressed too hard. It just breaks, and then its of no use to anyone.


    Brand continued to stare ahead as he asked his question slowly. Are you breaking, Geberic?


    Never, milord, he protested. You tell me to go to Hel, even if its just to get rid of me, Ill keep marching until I get there. But between you and me, he added in a whisper, I got my doubt about ukos. He looks tough, but hes a real grouch when he doesnt get enough sleep.


    Brand gave a weak smile. Noted.


    ~~~~


    Their march continued for another hour before Brand called another rest; as the men sat down, some more gracefully than others, their leader stared west at the sun slowly approaching the horizon. Hidden from his sight behind the towering Wyrmpeak was Middanhal; it had been more than a week since their escape. Patrols of Hawks had been scouring the area, but thanks to the mountainous terrain, their pursuers had no trail.


    Turning his gaze north, Brand stared into the jarldom of Theodstan. It covered the eastern part of Adalrik, running along the entire border to Heohlond, touching the Weolcans in the south and the Alfskog in the north. While none would ever im it to be fertilends, it had pastures for grazing and forests.


    ncing at his men, Brand cleared his throat. We move out, he told them. Without looking back or waiting, he set into motion; his course was north rather than east. Exchanging looks, but never questioning their captain, the band followed him deeper into Theodstan.


    ~~~~


    The next days, the group walked north-east, reaching greener surroundings. Having run out of provisions, their progress was noticeably slowed; instead of constantly moving forward, they spent much of the day foraging for berries, mushrooms, or roots while Quentin and Nichs did their best to hunt. Although both were expert marksmen, neither were experienced hunters. Sneaking up on game was never a skill they had needed before, and in the course of an entire day, they rarely managed more than a squirrel or asional rabbit.


    I found these, Matthew eximed happily, showing a handful ofrge mushrooms as the group made camp.


    Those are poisonous, Geberic informed him tly. Matthew let them fall to the ground where he stood. What about you? he enquired, nodding at Troy.


    I found some berries, the bard began.


    Where are they?


    Well, as I was about to pluck them, I saw a rabbit.


    So? Did it fight you for the berries?


    No, no, Troy hastened to say, but I started to imagine how a good rabbit stew might taste.


    Hel strapped to a bell, Geberic swore, you ask a simple question and get his lifes tale. This isnt a tavern, string peddler, did you get anything?


    I gave a good chase, I really did, Troy defended himself. I almost had it, but it jumped down this hole, and I couldnt reach it. I had chased it for so long, I couldnt remember the way back to the berries.


    It ran into its warren, not a hole, Geberic told him brusquely. Only a cobblestone boy would be dumb enough to think he could chase up a rabbit on foot.


    They were blueberries, I think. Or raspberries, maybe, Troy frowned. I honestly dont know how most berries look.


    Shut up, Geberic growled.


    Any berries this early would not be ripe in any case, Brand inserted. Let us not waste breath over it. He sat on a fallen log, dividing up a handful of wild pea pods that ukos had brought back. The Hthian sat with his back against a tree, dozing off; a sleeping man was not a hungry man, as he had told the others.


    The final members of the band returned; triumphantly, Nichs threw a small partridge onto the ground. Feast on this, my friends, he told them exuberantly.


    Nichs, I could kiss you, Geberic yelled as he picked up the bird and began to pluck its feathers.


    Im spoken for, but let Quentin have it, the archer grinned.


    His hunting partner did not share in the merriment; instead, he walked over and sat down on the log next to Brand. Were not alone in this forest, Quentin said quietly.


    Who did you meet?


    I didnte close enough to find out. I just heard voices and made a hasty retreat. Could be poachers like us, he considered. Could be the local lords forest men. Could be Hawks looking for us.


    Did they discover you?


    Quentin shook his head. I cant imagine they did.


    Good.


    The archer looked at the bird in Geberics hands being plucked. If we make a fire to roast that, someone might see.


    Brand gave a short nod. Thankfully, eating it should give us the strength to keep a quick pace tomorrow. Rest, Quentin, he told him.


    Fat chance Ill sleep tonight, the other man muttered. Yet despite his misgivings, with his share of the partridge in his stomach, Quentin snored peacefully throughout the night.


    ~~~~


    As dered, Brand kept the pace quick the next day with few breaks and only an hour spent before nightfall to forage; the result of their search for food reflected this. Being so early in spring, the yields of the forest had not had time to ripen yet. Their stomachsined, but every man kept his mouth shut on the topic of food, and a few songs by Troy provided a diversion from their predicament.


    Theyre following us, Quentin rted to Brand, sitting next to him; the men were arranged in a circle, listening to Troy as night fell and their meagre rations were being consumed. Its not a coincidence.


    Any idea about their number or identity?


    The archer shook his head. Hard to tell their numbers. I heard several voices, so at least three, but they might be up towards ten, I couldnt say. Id guess around five or so. As for who they are


    Brand frowned. Yes?


    I saw what looked like gold and blue.


    Brand stared at him. Are you certain?


    Bloody Hel, Geberic eximed, making Troy lose his grip; disharmonious tones struck out from his lute. Are you saying the prince sent kingthanes on our trail?


    Looks like it, Quentin admitted.


    The mood grew sombre. Thats not good, Nichs finally pointed out.


    Kingthanes, Hawks, I care not, ukos dered. They bleed like any other man.


    Thats sort of it, Geberic countered. Kingthanes are really good at making others bleed.


    Sir, can we escape them? asked Matthew. All eyes turned towards Brand.


    The former knight smiled ruefully at his sergeant. You need not worry, boy. You should all rest.


    Nobody is expecting me to fight, right? Troy asked concerned. Quentin rolled his eyes.


    Nothing will happen tonight. Rest, Brand reiterated. I will take first watch. The men murmured but acquiesced, lying down to find whatfort they might on the forest floor.


    As for Brand, he stood at the edge of their small circle, keeping eyes on the dark forest surrounding them. Geberic joined him. A word, milord? he asked quietly.


    Go to sleep.


    ukos is handy with a de, and the archers are sharp, Geberic stated, ignoring themand. Fighting this close in a forest, arrows arent that useful, though. The bard is obviously not much to rely on, nor the boy. As for me, Ill fight, but Im no match for a kingthane.


    I am aware, Geberic.


    Im not sure we stand a chance against five kingthanes or more, but some of us can buy time. Even if its just ukos and me, Geberic suggested. Hell do it, you know the mad bastard wont back down. We can distract the kingthanes, lead them on a merry chase. Or wound them badly enough that they cant pursue you further. Give you time to escape into the mountains, maybe. He nodded towards the south.


    Nobody is sacrificing themselves, Geberic. Brand had been staring into the forest, but he finally turned to look at his man-at-arms. Trust me.


    Always, milord. The words came without hesitation, but Geberics face remained clouded with doubt as hey down to rest.


    ~~~~


    At dawn, the group woke. A few birds were chirping in greeting, making the archers prepare arrows in case they spotted a tasty target. Breaking camp was done quickly as they had barely any belongings to gather. All turned expectantly to Brand, waiting for the course to be set.


    We have one advantage over the men pursuing us, he told his followers. As they are following our trail, we know exactly where they will be.


    An ambush? asked ukos, resting his left hand casually on his sword hilt.


    Brand nodded. If ites to fighting, yes.


    How do you mean? frowned Geberic.


    These men are sworn to protect Sigvards blood. Their very oath prevents them from harming me. I believe I can dissuade them from fighting us, Brand exined.


    His men exchanged questioning nces. What if you cant, sir? asked Matthew.


    Then we fight.


    After giving away the advantage of surprise? eximed Geberic.


    Thats pretty much our only advantage, Quentin muttered.


    I have faith in you, Brand smiled. Should all odds be against us, console yourselves with knowing that I am the only ouw here. Should I surrender myself, the rest of you are free to leave.


    Thats hardly an option either, Geberic protested.


    My lord, ukos spoke brusquely, I did note all this way merely to watch you be dragged back to Middanhal.


    The decision is mine, Brand dered.


    We shouldnt give them warning, Quentin argued. We should begin with me and Nichs sending an arrow in the first two of them, even the odds. The others assented to this.


    Brand raised his hand to silence the discussion. I understand your reservations, but these are not mercenaries or hired brutes. They are kingthanes, men of honour who have be trapped by their oath to an unworthy master. Their captain died to save me from death, and I hope his men will remember this. He took a deep breath. I owe the good captain that I at least try to spare the lives of his men before we ughter them in ambush.


    Honour gets a lot of men killed these days, Geberic muttered.


    Enough, Brand dered sternly. We must assume they will reach us soon. We need to take positions.


    ~~~~


    Seven kingthanes were making their way through the forest. Their mood was easy with asional mirth expressed; heavily armoured and exceedingly skilled, they had little cause to fear anything that might be encountered in these woods. Their blue surcoats with a golden dragon upon it, an emblem recognised throughout thend, was another sign that they were not to be trifled with.


    Several of them wereughing at a jest when their leader stopped dead in his tracks. Ahead of him stood a tall, pale man, nearly young enough to be called a youth if not for the weary expression upon his face; his clothing wasmon and dirty after sleeping on the ground for days, and he had merely a leather tunic to protect his body in a fight. The only thing of note was the sword hanging by his belt that held an emerald as its pommel jewel. My lord kingthanes, Brand greeted the speechless warriors. Youe searching for me. Before you draw weapons, you should know that you are surrounded by my men. We may resolve this peacefully, but if you force my hand, I will give themand to see you all in.


    Hiding behind the surrounding trees, his small band held their weapons ready. Most of them sweat already from anxiety, and Geberic held a steadying hand on Matthews shoulder; only ukos wore a grim expression, ready for battle. Nichs and Quentin both pulled their bowstrings back, their arms trembling from the effort. Regardless of how each man felt, surprise flooded their faces by seeing the kingthanes kneel before Brand, all as one. My lord, spoke their leader, it is true we havee seeking you, but not to draw arms against you.


    You havee to kneel, Brand stated simply, his expression nk.


    I am ric, continued the kingthane. My brethren and I believe as our captain did that there is but one atheling left in all of Adalmearc, and our oathpelled us to seek you out. We havee to renew that oath, swearing fealty to the only one worthy of such vows.


    Careful, Geberic could not help but yell out, giving away his position. It could be a trap!


    Disregarding the warning, Brand stepped forward to approach the kneeling kingthane and stretched out his hand. ric took hold of it with his own hand, pressing both to his forehead. I will to my lord be true and faithful. Your life is my life, your blood is my blood. All my days I shall serve my lord until death may find me, ric proimed. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before continuing. By eagles flight from ravens cry, through falcons fall till dragons rise, this oath I swear. From the trees, Brands men stumbled forward, confounded and unable to look away.


    His expression still indeterminate, Brand gazed down upon the kneeling thane. By my table you shall be seated, he swore. In life, you shall know reward. In death, you shall know honour. All my days, I will hold this to be true.


    ric kissed the hand of his master and rose. My brothers would swear the same oath, he told Brand, stepping aside. One by one, the words were repeated by each of the kingthanes. As they were all done and no longer kneeling, they surrounded their new lord, exchanging nods. We stand ready to follow you, my lord, ric dered.


    Good, Brand replied. He turned to look east. Heohlond awaits. The small group, now double in number, set into motion.


    ~~~~


    The increase of people upset the marching order that hitherto had existed, further troubled by the rough path they took through the forest. The kingthanes did their best to keep close to Brand, though none could disce ukos, who was ever at his leaders side. Eventually, the kingthanes settled for spreading out along the small column.


    Milord, ric asked, may I enquire as to our destination?


    Does it matter? Geberic questioned him sharply.


    I am of most use when I know the days ahead, the kingthane countered.


    We are going as far east as the hignds will allow us, Brand replied.


    Very good, milord, ric responded. A momentter. What awaits us in the hignds? Friends or enemies?


    My mothers n.


    Our good captain is son of Deirdre of n Ln, Geberic remarked loudly.


    In flight from fathersnds, our band of heroes sought mothers kin, Troy recited. Needs work, he admitted.


    A few of the kingthanesplimented him nheless, making Geberic grumble; he was eventually forced back in the column, bringing up the rear with Matthew. Keep a sharp eye on them,d, he muttered. Nothing but trouble.


    They brought us food, Matthew countered, chewing on half a loaf of bread and smiling as crumbs dotted his face.


    When Heles, shes in a beautiful dress, Geberic mumbled.


    What?


    Never you mind.


    Why are you so bothered by them? the boy asked. If any Hawks try to find us, we got seven kingthanes with us! Theyll chop them to pieces.


    There are a lot more Hawks fighting for Vale than there are thanes on our side, Geberic argued, picking a few berries from a bush as they passed it. He put them in his mouth and chewed them with a sour face.


    Seven kingthanes are better than none, Matthew countered.


    Geberic gave a sigh, spitting out the unripe berries. Its not that simple, boy. These kingthanes may have done us a disservice.


    How so? frowned Matthew.


    You heard the oath they swore Lord Adalbrand, right?


    Of course. What about it?


    The thanes oath, Geberic exined. I swore it myself to Jarl Theodoric many years ago. But thatst part, all that about eagles and ravens and other birds, he continued haltingly.


    Yes, I didnt understand that, Matthew admitted.


    Me neither, but its not part of the thanes oath. Its something only the kingthanes swear when pledging themselves to the service of the king, Geberic borated. The boy by his side digested his words silently. These kingthanes didnt just join us, they proimed Lord Adalbrand their choice of atheling for the throne. Were not mere ouws anymore, boy, were rebels against the Crown. To Vale and his ilk, were usurpers. Any chance of leniency is gone now. Enjoy that food,d, youve paid more for it than you know.


    Matthew stared at the blue backs of the kingthanes, chewing on thest pieces of his bread.

 Chapter 109: Highland Hospitality

    Chapter 109: Hignd Hospitality


    In the following days, the travellers marched swiftly. There were no markers denoting the border between Adalrik and Heohlond, but eventually, the group entered a vige to barter for food; not having to hunt or forage would speed them on their journey. While buying provisions with the silver they could scrape together, the vigers confirmed that they had reached n Camerons territory; they were in the hignds.


    Some of the men breathed easier upon hearing this. Thew of the Adalthing only ruled Adalrik, and the might of its lord protector ended at the borders; should any be pursuing them into Heohlond, they would be in breach of thew, not Brand and his followers. Others did not share this feeling of relief; an enemy could still be hunted outside the confines of thew, someone pointed out.


    At the end of the days march, when ukos took first watch, he was approached by Geberic. Can we talk?


    We already seem to be, ukos answered.


    Geberic looked towards where Brandy sleeping. Does the captain seem strange to you?


    He is leading us as always, ukos spoke dismissively.


    True, but he hardly talks. He seems changed, Geberic imed with concern. I remember him when we crossed the Weolcans. We were in worse straits than now, Id argue, but he never seemed affected. Now, hes not his usual self.


    Geberic, hispanion spoke with patience, you were at Polisals with me and the captain.


    So?


    We charged headlong into the enemy,pletely surrounded. We should have died, ukos dered tly. By some divine miracle, we won the battle instead. The captain risked his life without second thought to defeat the ounders and free Hthiod.


    Whats your point?


    After doing this, hees home to his own people, and they try to chop his head off as a reward. Of course the captains changed, the heathman spoke brusquely. I am only surprised he did not take it worse.


    Sure, I know that, Geberic defended himself. I just meant  gods, Ive been taking orders from him for a while now, and it feels natural. But sometimes I look at him and realise, hes only some twenty-odd years. Half my age, barely old enough to be a man.


    Age has nothing to do with it, ukos told him. His fate made him a captain, same as ours made us his defenders.


    Fate, Geberic snorted. You believe that?


    Some twelve years ago, I was a Kings de, the Hthian began to rte. The king died on my watch, and I spent a decade keeping order in a tavern, throwing drunks onto the street for a few silvers a day. Out of nowhere, I became a Queens de. Finally, I could look people in the eyes again.


    Cured your blindness, did it?


    ukos ignored the remark. When the ounders took Tothmor, I stayed behind to cover my queens escape. I should have been captured, but I evaded them. I fought their upation for months, he continued his story, until that went bad as well, and I should have been killed. Just as we should both have died at Polisals. He gave a shrug. Fate has kept me alive and will do so until it is my time to die. You live and you die as decreed by greater powers than us.


    Geberic stared at him. Thatspletely useless advice.


    It was not advice, ukos informed him, keeping watch of the surrounding darkness. Think what you want. I follow the captain because protecting him gives me purpose. I care not what your reasons are.


    I thought you went with us for the chance to kill ounders, Geberic remarked with a sly expression.


    That as well. If you are going to sit here anyway, you can take the watch, the heathman dered, moving to lie down.


    Fine, Geberic grumbled. He ended up spending more time looking at hispanions than his surroundings until one of the kingthanes relieved him of duty.


    ~~~~


    They kept the same course with the Weolcans on their right. On asion, they came across other travellers or shipments of tin and stone from the mines and quarries by the mountains. Few engaged with them; the sight of fourteen men, most of them in heavy armour, deterred others from approaching. When they entered a vige on asion to trade for food, it always took a while to convince the local residents that they intended to pay for the bartered goods; they usually ended up showing and even handing over the silver before the vigers would ept that the band of warriors came in good faith.


    For two weeks, they marched since entering Heohlond. The further east they went, the more deste thend became, and settlements were rare toe across. At one point, a boy herding a flock of goats watched their progression with curiosity, staring at their swords and surcoats. Matthew, Brand called out, go ask the boy if he knows of any viges nearby where we might trade. Or at least any streams close by to fill our water skins.


    Eagerly, Matthew walked up to the boy, who was a few years younger. They exchanged a few words; suddenly, Matthew drew his short sword, making the rest of the group exchange worried looks. Quentin and Nichs had already run forward when they saw Matthew give the sword to the goatherd, who shed it around in the air. Laughing, he gave it back to Matthew, who sheathed it and gestured for the hignder boy to follow him.


    He says theres water straight ahead if we walk for half an hour, Matthew exined proudly.


    Thank you, Matthew, Brand told him and turned his attention on the goatherd. Where is your vige, young master? We have silver to buy food with.


    Back that way. The boy nodded in the direction they hade. Ye must have walked too close to the mountains, else yed have seen it.


    Any settlements ahead of us? Brand enquired. Perhaps by the water you mentioned.


    Nay, the goatherd told them. Theres Garmagh, of course, but naught but ghosts in that ce.


    A start went through Brand. How can we reach it?


    Keep going. When ye hit the water, follow it north.


    Thanks, young master. Brand inclined his head towards him as a gesture of gratitude. We have reached thends of n Ln. Let us move onwards, he spoke, directed at his followers. Matthew waved and some of the men tussled the hignder boys hair before he returned to his goats.


    Do you expect to find anything in this abandoned vige, milord? asked one of the kingthanes.


    We might at least sleep under a roof, another suggested.


    My mother lived in Garmagh, Brand exined quietly, causing his men to fall silent. I wish to see the ce, Sandar, that is all.


    Of course, milord, Sandar mumbled. The group continued east without speaking further.


    ~~~~


    Approaching Garmagh, the goatherds tale seemed true; nothing but empty buildings greeted the travellers. Some of them were burned to an extent, while others appeared derelict. The men walked into the town square and nced around.


    Im guessing this was ravaged during the war, Quentin contemted.


    It must have been bad if nobodys been tempted to move in since, a kingthane considered.


    From what I heard, everyone was ughtered, Brand remarked.


    Unless that field worked itself, someone did move in, ric interjected, pointing at a patch ofnd that despite the frozen ground had painstakingly been tilled and prepared for seeding.


    That would be the owner, Nichs added, motioning towards a tall woman that stood between two of the buildings.


    Everyones attention immediately turned towards her; some kept their hands on their weapons, but none drew steel. Brand took a step forward, gesturing for his men to remain calm. Gods peace, he called out.


    Not much peace today, the woman replied curtly. She looked to be in her early thirties with the dark hair and pale skin typical of hignders. In her hand, she held a bucket containing milk, which she sat down on the ground. What do you lot want? Her other hand rested casually on the meat knife in her belt.


    We would spend the night in some of the empty houses if it causes no trouble, Brand exined. In truth, we only came this way to satisfy my curiosity.


    The woman raised an eyebrow. What in Hels name would make any curious to see this gods-forsaken ce?


    My mother was Deirdre of Ln, Brand exined, and I believe she lived in this vige.


    There was a brief silence as the woman chewed on her lower lip. Deirdre was my cousin. I reckon that makes us kin.


    I reckon it does, Brand confirmed with a vague smile. I am Adalbrand, son of Arngrim.


    My names Gwen, she told him. If ye want to stay, I dont mind. She nced at the nearby building, which was the only one showing signs of habitation. I got some fish I was going to clean. I dont know how many mouths theyll feed, she considered.


    We have food of our own to share, and we can gather more, Brand quickly suggested.


    Plenty of more fish in the brook, Gwen offered. Theres some fishings in the shed over there.


    Brand turned to look over his shoulder, and Geberic nodded several times. Yes, milord. He barked various orders, setting the men to task. Brand picked up the milk bucket and followed Gwen into her home.


    ~~~~


    The remainder of the day was spent searching for food, filling skins and buckets with water, and other pursuits of simr nature. Despite their remote location, the kingthanes insisted on posting several guards to maintain close watch over the whole vige.


    Nervous lot, Gwen remarked. ukos had built a fire inside her hut from her dwindling stock of firewood, which she now used to cook her fish.


    Theyve had some bad luck in the past keeping people alive, Geberic muttered. Along with Brand, he, ukos, and Matthew were the only people inside Gwens home; the others were scattered outside or in the other buildings.


    They are simply cautious, Brand corrected his man-at-arms.


    His sergeant, meanwhile, stared around the small hut curiously. On the wall hung a sword in its scabbard, big enough to be wielded by two hands. Is that yours? he asked.


    It is, Gwen dered. It was my fathers, but I stole it one night.


    What, really? Matthew asked surprised. He sat on the floor, staring at Gwen.


    She nodded. My father owned most of thend surrounding this vige. We lived in the big house that sits to the right of here, the one that is mostly burned down.


    Why did you steal the sword?


    Matthew, Geberic interjected with a stern voice, mind your ce.


    I dont mind, Gwen told them, prodding the fish in the fire. There was war, and I wanted to be part of it. My father would have none of it, so I stole away in the dead of night, taking his sword with me.


    Thats incredible, Matthew dered with an awed voice.


    Hardly. It meant I wasnt here when the Order soldiers came. Gwens voice grew cold. I was the only one fighting, and by some cruel twist of fate, everyone else died.


    I am sorry, Brand told her with genuine sympathy.


    It wasnt your fault, she replied tly, turning away from the fire to face them. Food is nearly ready.


    Im starving, Matthew eximed. Geberic cuffed him behind the ear.


    Take half and distribute it among those standing guard, Brand instructed Matthew. You will get your portion afterwards.


    Fine, Matthew grumbled, earning him another p on the head from Geberic. Fine, sir, he corrected himself. He waited as Gwen cut up the fish into smaller bits, taking half of it and going outside.


    The others began to eat in silence. I met your father, Gwen spoke up, looking at Brand.


    When?


    Some twenty years ago. He was still a squire, I think, in service to a knight. They were going to Lochan. I cant for the life of me remember who the knight was or why they were going there.


    What was he like? asked Brand.


    Handsome. I was just a smallss, he looked impressive to me with his big horse and armour, she revealed. He and the knight continued to Lochan, but while his master was there, your father came back to stay here in Garmagh until it was time for both of them to leave.


    What happened afterwards?


    He dered his intent to return and marry your mother. Nobody said a thing until he was out of earshot, but everyoneughed as soon as he was gone. Gwen smiled to herself for a brief moment. Deirdre didnt, of course. She didnt say a thing. A yearter, he returned, now with golden spurs. They were married by a whiterobe at Lochan soon after, as I remember it.


    Thank you, Brand told her earnestly.


    Its nothing, she mumbled. Theres still some fish left.


    Outside, Matthew made a round distributing the cooked food. Thanks, Sandar told him, eating it quickly while Matthew continued. Looking around, the kingthane located ric and approached him.


    You are not at your post, the other thane informed him.


    I doubt were in danger from anything but ghosts, and my sword wont do much against them, Sandar replied calmly. I wanted to ask you something.


    Get on with it, then.


    Are we in the right ce?


    ric nced around. We cover every entrance to the square. Id say so.


    No, Sandar replied irritated, being here with Lord Adalbrand. This ce is so remote, even crows would think its a bit much. What are we doing here?


    Following our lord, ric told him cidly.


    But where to, for what purpose? Sandar asked with frustration. If he wants to hide in Heohlond, he doesnt need seven kingthanes to protect him. In fact, were just drawing attention.


    ric took a deep breath. We broke an oath toe here, Sandar.


    I know that.


    Only our new oath can remove that stain from our honour.


    I guess so.


    If Lord Adalbrand wishes to live out his life in some deserted vige in Heohlond, Ill stay by his side and make sure he gets to do that, ric dered.


    Thats a long time doing nothing, Sandar objected.


    It is keeping my oath to a man who is worthy of my oath, ric retorted. Prince Hardmar is a scoundrel and a viin, to put it mildly. If doing nothing is the worst thing that Lord Adalbrand asks of me, I will count myself lucky to have exchanged Hardling for Arnling.


    Fine, Sandar relented.


    Get back to your post.


    ~~~~


    The men woke the next morning to the rhythmic sound of an axe splitting wood. Those who had slept on the floor in Gwens home noticed that their leader was missing. Going outside, they saw the archers and Troy emerge from another building along with some of the kingthanes. A few of thetter, those who had keptst watch, were staring with almost pained expression at Brand wielding an axe, chopping firewood.


    Really, milord, it would be no trouble for us, one of them offered.


    My kin, Brand replied between axe strokes. My duty to repay the hospitality. Another stroke. The custom of the hignds.


    Let our lord do as he wishes, ric told his brethren. A few them shrugged and returned to their sleeping quarters to get properly dressed.


    As Brand finished, he saw Gwen staring at him. I noticed you had little fuel left, he told her, putting the axe aside to gather up a bundle of logs.


    I wasnt expecting anything, she told him, picking up a handful of firewood herself.


    You were an excellent host, Brand smiled faintly. You deserve good guests.


    I didnt do much, she protested as they walked inside and stacked the firewood by her firece.


    Never underestimate small kindnesses, he remarked, returning outside. His men were chewing on what remained ofst nights supper turned into breakfast. Can you tell us the route to Lochan?


    Follow the stream north, Gwen advised. Youll reach a bridge and the road that goes east to Lochan.


    My thanks. Outside, Brands men gathered to depart. Farewell, Gwen of Ln.


    Fare you well, cousin.


    ~~~~


    An hour north of Garmagh, they reached the aforementioned bridge. Crossing the stream, they set on the path towards Lochan, seat of n Ln. Keeping to the dirt road, they began to encounter more traffic, mostly farmers and peddlers. Seeing a smallpany of armed men, other travellers were rarely inclined to strike up conversation, but Brands men made up for that by conversing freely with each other. It was a pleasant day, and all had slept well, undisturbed by the ghosts of Garmagh.


    As the shadows grew long, Lochan began to rise in the horizon. Even for the hignds, it was small, a town rather than a city. It had wooden palisades for walls instead of stone and no castle or keep; there was only a long hall in the centre, rising above the huts and houses surrounding it. Nearbyy the smallke for which the town was named.


    The band increased their pace, hurrying to reach the settlement before nightfall. As they approached the gate, a guard called out to them. Halt a moment! Who are ye?


    We are but travellers, ric replied brusquely. Are we forbidden entrance?


    Nay, but most travellers journey with goods or wares to trade. Yee only with swords, making me think thats yer only trade.


    Brand took a step forward. I am Adalbrand, son of Deirdre of Ln, he spoke in a loud voice. I seek the hospitality of my kindred.


    The guard could be seen briefly consulting with hispanion. Very well, he finally spoke, but were peaceful folk. Any of ye break our peace, kinship wont see you safe.


    Consider us warned. Brand inclined his head in recognition and motioned for his men to follow him.


    Entering the town, they drew stares from all sides. Mothers pulled their children aside and men sent them lingering nces, filled with suspicion. Few of them bore swords or weapons, though, and Brands retinue seemed untroubled by the local sentiments. As for Brand himself, he set a brisk pace and kept his eyes on the hall at the end of the main road.


    Although fashioned from wood and not stone, the building left no doubt that it was the seat of a nobleman and his family. Its front door wasrge enough to be called a gate and stood open; servants and people tending to affairs could be seen entering and leaving in steady numbers. All quickly moved aside as Brand walked up the few steps, apanied by eleven stern warriors, a boy ncing around, and one bard clutching a lute.


    Inform your master that Adalbrand of House Arnling seeks an audience, Brand told a servant, who swallowed and hurried away.


    No guards, ukos muttered. Trusting people.


    Just wait until they meet you, Geberic remarked.


    After a short while, a servant dressed in finer clothes appeared. Milord, he addressed Brand, I am the steward of this house. My master bids you wee into the hall. Hemands that you only bring two of your attendants with you.


    Only two? ric bristled.


    Brand raised a hand to silence his thane, looking over his shoulder. ukos, ric, with me. Geberic, keep them out of trouble. He turned towards the steward. Lead the way, good master.


    Moving from the parlour down corridors, they soon entered the main hall itself. It was elongated in shape and had a long table in its middle with benches around. At both ends were hearths, though neither were lit at the moment; the table end farthest from the main entrance had high-backed chairs rather than benches. The hall was not empty; apart from a few servants, several armed men stood scattered throughout the room, and more continued to arrive. By the chairs stood a man in histe fifties, slender and well dressed. This is Lord Ciarn, the ri tuaithe of our people, the steward presented him.


    Wee to my hall, Ciarn spoke. If youe in peace, you shall know peace in thends of Ln.


    Brand gave a bow. You have my gratitude, Lord Ciarn. I am Adalbrand of House Arnling, and I havee seeking your hospitality.


    Your name is known to us, even in this part of the highnds, the lord revealed. Yet it is your mothers name you havee to invoke, I would assume.


    It is, my lord. Brand nodded in acknowledgement. My mother was Deirdre of Ln, born in this very hall if memory serves me right.


    It does. Ciarn nodded himself. Her first years were spent here until she followed her father to your familysnds to the west. While she bore no direct rtion to me, she was of this tath. None will deny this.


    I am d, my lord. Brand hesitated. I find myself in need of aid, and so I turn to bonds of blood.


    Given the stories we have heard, I can only imagine what has driven you to the edge of the Seven Realms, Ciarn remarked. I would tell you to seek your familysnds within our tath, but you will find little help there, s.


    Indeed, my lord, Brand assented.


    Ciarn took a deep breath. Let it not be said that Ln turns away its own. You shall have a ce to sleep under my roof tonight, Adalbrand of House Arnling, as shall your men.


    Brand gave a deep bow. My deepest gratitude, my lord.


    The lord of the n waved his hand dismissively. No gratitude is needed to fulfil the obligations of kinship. You and your followers may seek out rest, and tomorrow you can tell the tale that brought the Dragonheart to Lochan.


    Brand gave another bow and retired with his protectors; the nobleman and his warriors watched them leave, every step of the way.

 Chapter 110: Arn Alone Sword Hilt Held

    Chapter 110: Arn Alone Sword Hilt Held


    At breakfast the next morning, space at the table had been cleared for the many guests. Brand was ced near one end, by Ciarns right hand at the seat of honour, while his men were dispersed along the sides. Opposite Brand sat a whiterobe while the sons and daughters of Ciarn took the remaining nearby seats.


    You must bring a tale worth telling with you, Lord Adalbrand, the lord spoke as the worst of hunger had been sated. Now that rest and nourishment has been provided, I hope you feel prepared to share what has brought you to Lochan.


    Many eyes turned towards Brand expectantly, who inclined his head. A small price to pay for the kindness shown to me and my men. It all started upon my return to Middanhal in early spring, he began to rte.


    This porridge could use some salt, Sandar remarked, poking his portion with a spoon.


    Ever the malcontent, another thane mentioned.


    Dont take it to heart, Sandar replied with a disarming smile. In fact, after weeks on the road, this ce is like a pce to me. The captain was right to bring us here.


    Dont get used to it, ric told him.


    Why not?


    I doubt theyll be happy feeding another fourteen mouths unless we do something in return. Since they have no need of warriors that I can see, ric exined, I imagine well politely be asked to leave one of these days.


    Ill enjoy it while itsts, in that case, Sandar dered, shovelling porridge into his mouth.


    Ive been in lots of battles, Matthew stated proudly. Around him sat a few boys and girls his own age or younger. We won all of them because my lord is the best captain there is.


    Dont outgrow your breeches just yet, Geberic warned him. I dont recall you ever swinging that sword in a fight.


    Of course I have, the sergeant protested with a grimace.


    Have you ever killed anyone? asked one of the children, staring with wide eyes.


    No, Matthew muttered, making Gebericugh.


    Eat your meal, boy, and put some flesh on those bones.


    Ive not seen a decent bow since we got here, Quentin mentioned while ncing around with suspicion in his eyes.


    Nichs sent him an odd look. So?


    Its a bad sign, his friend imed. These people dont respect archery.


    Nichs could not help butugh. How do you figure? Because you havent seen any bows?


    Quentin nodded towards the rest of the table. They were seated at the end opposite the lord of the house. They put all the de boys further up the table than us. Even the bloody bard sits better than us.


    I think, Nichs remarked mildly, that has more to do with you taking ages to wake up in the morning, and me being kind enough to wait for you.


    I dont like it, Quentin dered, ncing around again. Its not natural.


    A harrowing tale, Lord Adalbrand, Ciarn spoke. It is disheartening to hear how dishonourable behaviour corrupts the holy city. We are fortunate to be far removed from such, enjoying the peace of our ownnds, he added with a strict look towards his sons.


    Hammer and quill! It boils my blood to hear of such injustice, the whiterobe at the table dered in a loud voice. Even the best ofws do not suffice when broken by those charged to uphold them. By Hamaring, I find it intolerable! He emphasised his exmation by mming his hand into the table, causing bowls and cups to jump around.


    Yes, thank you, Brother Caradoc, the lord spoke, wiping errant porridge from his cup. Your enthusiasm for justice is admired by all.


    Can nothing be done? the whiterobe asked of Brand.


    As you said, those meant to uphold thew are those guilty. Short of marching an army to the steps of the Citadel, I do not foresee the situation changing, the young nobleman replied with regret.


    There is already war in Adalrik, Ciarn quickly interjected. We should not wish for matters to escte. Especially not if it might spill into the highnds. War is all too recent a memory for us.


    War is like the tide, the whiterobe growled. It is only a matter of time before it returns.


    That may be true for Adalrik or even the other tuatha, Ciarn spoke curtly, but while I am ri tuaithe of this ce, Ln will not make one move to seek battle.


    We all wish for peace to return, Brand imed. My own sister remains in Middanhal. For her sake if nothing else, I pray for an end to war.


    Perhaps if you settled here, she should join you, Ciarn suggested. In fact, I gave it some thoughtst night.


    What are your thoughts, my lord?


    Many farms lie deserted in the highnds after the war, the nobleman exined. That includes your familynds. They are not extensive, but with work and plough, grain will grow. I would be happy to lend you seed, oxen, lumber, and what else you might need, even hands to help build your hall.


    That is a most generous offer, Lord Ciarn, Brand admitted.


    The nobleman shook his head lightly. Thend is yours by right, and the whole tath will benefit if you put it under plough. Famine is always a threat if the harvest is not good. We need more fields growing food for us. Not to mention, he added with a wry smile, our neighbours will be less inclined to trespass, knowing you and your men hold Garmagh.


    I had not considered this, Brand confessed. In truth, I thought anynd that ever belonged to my mothers family would long have been lost.


    Many viges are empty. Even in Lochan, houses be derelict, Ciarn rted. For this reason, I would not hesitate to offer your galligh a ce in the tath, he added, nodding towards Brands men. Blood of the highnds means less than a willing heart in this case.


    I am grateful, Brand told him. I will give your suggestion due deliberation.


    Do that, Ciarn nodded. Until then, you remain as my guests. You are wee in Lochan.


    ~~~~


    After breakfast, the drakonians and heathmen split into smaller groups, each having its own purpose. Some went to investigate Lochan and locate its taverns or handle minor errands. Nichs and Quentin found bored guards or townspeople to make bets with concerning feats of archery, while Matthew explored outside the city inpany with the lords youngest son. ukos and ric stayed by Brands side, following their captain wherever he went.


    Have either of you ever been to Heohlond before? Brand asked them.


    No, ukos simply answered.


    I never left Adalrik, ric admitted.


    There is little to impress men ustomed to Middanhal or even Tothmor, Brand considered. But the ce is orderly and not crowded, he added, ncing around as they walked down the street. Given how remote we are from the rest of Adalmearc, I imagine life is peaceful here.


    How are your boots, milord? Anything to cobble? a hawker called out. ukos sent him a menacing look until the cobbler shied away.


    It is rather quaint here, ric remarked. There doesnt even seem to be a marketce, merely peddlers lining the streets or the asional workshop. There will probably be many things we cant necessarily get here. I doubt they have a decent armourer or de smith.


    We will certainly have a hard time getting our boots cobbled while ukos is with us, Brand mused.


    He came too close, ukos growled.


    At the centre of town, the trio reached a buildingrger than its neighbours; unlike them, this one was built of stone. Its great doors wore intricate carvings, and the arched doorway was simrly ornamented. Hamarings temple, ric observed.


    Brand entered the altar room, making his protectors do the same. A whiterobe wearing the garments of an acolyte was sweeping the floor. Oh, milords, he eximed. I did not expect He did not manage to finish the sentence.


    Brands eyes strolled past him to take in the sights of the hall itself. Regardless of your expectations, you may be at ease. We require nothing. I simply came to see the temple. The stone walls were bare, which along with the open doors made the room cold; on the other hand, any kind of tapestries or carpets would have obscured the countless carvings etched everywhere. Floor, roof, walls, every inch was covered in depictions of countless scenes etched into the stone.


    This is breath-taking, ukos stated.


    ric bent down to let his finger follow a warrior, whose full size was about a grown mans arm. He was d in magnificent armour, leading a valiant fight against numerous, less detailed foes. The legendary King Caradoc, my namesake, a voice boomed.


    ric leapt to his feet and ukos turned on his heel to face the entrance; Brand, already facing it, nodded in greeting. Brother Caradoc. We were admiring your temple.


    The whiterobe, who had broken fast with them at the hall, walked inside. He pushed the sleeves of his robe up, revealing strong, hairy arms underneath and the fact that he seemed to wear little else underneath his religious garments. Hammer and quill! Always so warm in this room, he grumbled, turning his attention to the visitors. I am pleased these little carvings made by my brothers caught your fancy, he added with a grin.


    It must have taken decades, ric considered.


    Centuries, Caradoc corrected him. The temple has a book detailing the life of each priest in this temple and what additions he made. ording to the book, the first stone wasid in the year seven hundred and twenty-two, the priest borated, and the first carvings were begun three yearster.


    Those are impressive records, ukos granted.


    Every temple of Hamaring has one. Knowledge is strength, the whiterobe replied, reciting an adage of his order. What use is a bear without strength?


    Still good for a fur coat, Brand remarked casually.


    Caradoc stared at him for a moment. Hah! Ill remember that one. He gestured towards the altar. I am guessing you came to see where your parents were wed?


    Brand had been ncing idly at the etchings, but he whipped his head to stare at the whiterobe. Pardon me?


    Caradoc nodded towards the altar, upon which stood a great bear on its hind legs, raising its paws. This is where your father and mother married. I wed them myself some twenty-odd years ago.


    The confusion cleared from Brands face. Of course. I had been told as much, yet somehow did not connect the pieces.


    Ive tied a lot of young folks in my time, but an atheling of Sigvard, Caradoc grinned, that one sticks to your memory.


    It is a beautiful ce for a wedding, be it for nobility ormoners, Brand remarked.


    Aye, Caradoc nodded. Who knows, he continued with a twinkle in his eye, if you ept Lord Ciarns offer, you might stand where your father once stood.


    Perhaps, Brand replied politely. He inclined his head in farewell and turned, leaving the temple.


    Quite a character, ric said once they were outside.


    Whiterobes tend to be, Brand added.


    I killed several of them in Tothmor, ukos remarked, making both of hispanions stop to look at him. They were plotting against the queen. We gave them the chance to surrender.


    I wonder what the records at the temple in Tothmor show, Brand considered dryly. They resumed walking.


    I was wondering, milord, ric began hesitantly.


    Yes?


    Are you considering Lord Ciarns offer?


    Brand smiled. Are you worried that I will make a farmer of you, ric?


    I suppose my hands can wield a plough as well as a de, the thane considered. I have no concerns, milord, I follow the course you set. I only wish to know because I expect the men will be asking me sooner orter.


    Tell them to be patient. The course will be set in time, Brand replied. In any case, I consider it too soon.


    For what, milord?


    For waging campaigns or sowing fields. The thaw has yet toe.


    ~~~~


    A few days passed for the drakonian exiles in Lochan. Lacking any purpose, the men sought one where they could. ukos and the kingthanes sparred with each other and the lords galligh. As for Geberic, sometimes inpany with Nichs and Quentin when they were not busy impressing the locals with disys of archery, he made a virtue of learning the location of each tavern in town,paring their prices, beverages, and the temper of both patrons and staff.


    Well skip this one, Geberic muttered to himself, followed by the heathmen. They had left their bows and arrows at home and seemed ufortable.


    Whats wrong with this one? protested Nichs as Geberic led them down the small, winding streets of Lochan.


    I strongly suspect they skimp on the hops when brewing, he responded. Ah, this one. Full mug for three coppers.


    Ill drink anything thats wet at this point, Quentin grumbled.


    The three men entered a small establishment that was little more than a big room with tables and chairs. A few barrels stood against the wall next to shelves filled with tankards. Along with disinterested nces from the men already drinking, they were met with the sound of a lute ying. Huh, I didnt expect that, Geberic admitted.


    This cant be a reputable ce if they let Troy ply his trade, snorted Quentin.


    A woman appeared from the back room, putting clean cups onto the shelves. Whatll be for ye, good masters? asked the brewster, looking at the newly arrived.


    Three ales, Geberic told her, and they sat down at an empty table to listen to Troy ying.


    Nobodys talking, and it aint because they dont like strangers, Quentin remarked with a suspicious nce. The other patrons were all listening to Troy intently.


    Ive never been to a tavern where nobody talked, Nichs considered.


    The brewster ced three cups on their table and took a round through the others, grabbing and refilling as needed. Geberic seized the tankard in front of him and took a heavy sip. That hits the spot, he uttered with satisfaction.


    Troy finished his song and received apuse from the locals. Slightly confused, Nichs pped along. They seem to genuinely like it, he said perplexed.


    The bard bowed before his audience. A short break before Ill do another, if it pleases the people, he spoke with mirth and was met by roars of agreement. As general conversation began across the room, Troy moved over to his friends. Fancy seeing you lot here, he smiled.


    These people seem quite happy with your tune, Geberic told him.


    Troy was beaming. They do, dont they? This town is incredible. In Hthiod, youre lucky to be allowed indoors at any public house, and theyll watch you like a hawk, thinking youre a thief. Here, these stone faces crack into wide smiles and they listen happily.


    The hignders have a reputation for music, Geberic nodded. Best bard I ever heard at Cragstan came from the other side of the border.


    The owner of the establishment ced a cup overflowing with drink on the table in front of Troy. If youre going to sing, best you bathe your tongue in beer, my dear father always told me, sheughed before returning to her duties.


    Much obliged, Troy grinned, tasting his drink. Bitter, he acknowledged. They didnt spare the hops on this one. Geberics eyes darted from his own cup to Troys with suspicion creeping into his expression.


    What song were you ying, anyway? asked Nichs.


    Arn of Old, Troy replied. The captain suggested I tried my luck with it, and he was right. Its been well received every ce Ive been.


    The captain suggested that one? It sounds like he might be getting a little lost in the past, Quentin scoffed. Nichs looked at him without understanding, prompting him to continue. Arn of Old? The captain is an Arnling.


    Right, right. I never thought about that, Nichs admitted.


    I think, Troy interjected, the captain suggested it because it has a whole army of hignders marching to Arns rescue, fighting for him in Adalrik.


    Yeah, that one is always popr in the hignds. I didnt realise you knew the story, Geberic said to Troy.


    The minstrel sent him an offended look. I just sang the song, he retorted with a scowl, of course I know the story!


    I didnt think you bards listened to yourselves when you sang, the man-at-arms exined with a shrug. Only exnation for how some of you sound.


    Troy grabbed his beer and emptied it. Im not the one paying for my drink in here, he replied smugly. Now if you will excuse me, he continued, standing up and grabbing his instrument, I have work to do, which unlike yours doesnt involve maiming people, but leaves them happier than before.


    The others watched him return to the middle of the room, strumming his lute. That description would also fit a few women I know, Geberic remarked casually, and hispanions burst out inughter.


    ~~~~


    Some days after his arrival in Lochan, Brand was walking the entire circumference of the palisade walls with two thanes at his back as usual. The young captain stopped on asion to inspect a certain area, asking questions of the few guards on post before continuing.


    Strange that Lord Ciarn or his forbears have not considered stone walls, Brand mused. There must be quarries nearby that could supply the material.


    Maybe they dont feel its necessary, one of the thanes suggested. If I recall, Lochan surrendered without fighting to the Order during the war rather than resist.


    That would exin why the town was spared, Brand considered, walking at a leisurely pace.


    Milord! Another thane came running along the wall from the direction of the hall.


    What is it, Sandar? asked Brand with a frown.


    Some travellers brought news, the warrior replied, catching his breath. They say there was a battle in Adalrik, or a skirmish of some sort.


    What happened?


    The Hawks fought Isarn and lost. Not only that, but they killed Prince Hardmar!


    The other thanes looked at each other in amazement. I cant believe it, one of them remarked.


    We made the right choice being here and not there.


    Im d that little  Sandar caught himself, ncing at Brand.


    Thetter was staring out from the palisade onto the open fields that surrounded Lochan. He took a deep breath. As sure a sign as any, Brand muttered before turning to face his men. Gather the others. We need to make our preparations.


    ~~~~


    The rest of the day, the drakonians were busy. Troy went from tavern to tavern, ying the same few songs as instructed by Brand. His thanes sought out the galligh in Lord Ciarns hall, measuring their thoughts and intents, while Geberic was sent into town. As thetter returned to his master, he found Brand in conversation with Doran, eldest son and heir to Ciarn. The man-at-arms waited at a respectful distance until he saw the noblemen part.


    Geberic, Brand called out for him to approach.


    Any luck, milord? Geberic nodded in the direction that Doran had left.


    I think so. He is young. Close to my age, Brand added with a smile. And he is eager to see more of the world than this corner of the Realms. I dare say others think the same.


    Did you ask him?


    Brand shook his head. I thought it best to remain discreet. There is a good head on his shoulders  no need to point anything out to him.


    As you say, milord.


    Did you see the whiterobe?


    Aye, milord. He was only too happy to talk of the war, Geberic exined. He feels slighted by the Order, Id say, and Middanhal. Feelings run cold towards drakonians and Adalrik among him and his flock.


    Brand nodded. I thought as much. Good. We should be ready for tonight.


    ~~~~


    That evening, the topic of every conversation was the death of the crown prince. Some of the hignders found it exciting news; others saw it as tragic tidings. None were gripped with outright sorrow; they were not drakonians, and in Lochan, they felt far removed from Adalrik.


    I say fair riddance to him! eximed Brother Caradoc. Its clear this prince held little regard for the rule ofw.


    He should have stayed out of battle if it was too much for him, dered the eldest son of Ciarn casually.


    Mind yourself, Doran, his father chastised him. Until you have proven yourself in battle, you should not speak of it.


    When will that be, Father? the young manined, grabbing his cup of ale to drown his disappointment.


    Never, if I have my way, Ciarn told him with a stern look. What say you to this news, Lord Adalbrand? Do you rejoice in the death of your enemy or mourn the fall of a kinsman?


    I would say the good prince and I were too far removed for any bonds of blood to matter. Certainly it did not matter to him when he shouted for my head to leave my shoulders, Brand considered. I will grant that the knowledge of his demise sowed thoughts in my mind with decisions to reap. But before I speak further, I have a small request.


    Speak it, Ciarn told him graciously.


    I have in mypany a bard. As I know the value ced on song in the hignds, I would let him perform his skill for your court tonight, Lord Ciarn, Brand offered.


    A fine proposal, the lord spoke, and the others assented loudly. Let him y!


    Themand was sent down the table to Troy, who grabbed his lute, stood up, and bowed before the local lord. In recognition of the valiant nature inherent in the hignders, I wish to perform Arn of Old. Apuse and cheers rose in response. Troy took another bow in recognition, smiling, and began ying.


    Heed my harrowed tale of pain, hale and hallowed king felled, Troy sang. Adalrik and athelings in, Arn alone sword hilt held.


    The hignders sat or stood in rapture, whether they were nobility, galligh, or servants. Barely a breath could be heard; none spoke or touched cups, knives, or food to cause the least sound. They listened in terror as King Sigtrygg and his second son was in in foul ambush, followed up by the jarl of Vale usurping the throne, executing the kings heir. Their hearts soared upon hearing how Arn brought an army of hignders from Heohlond,ing to the aid of the northern jarls and rallying them to his cause. Exuberance filled the room as the song came to an end with Arn taking his rightful ce upon the Dragon Throne and a hignder queen by his side.


    As the audience pped and voiced their appreciation, Troy took his seat after a final bow. Brand, on the other hand, rose to stand. I have been well received by the tath of Ln, he began to speak, receiving murmurs of approval. Heohlond is where my mother was born, and I do not doubt that a long and happy life could be mine in thisnd. He paused. Yet Heohlond is also where my father died, fighting injustice. Though it cost him his life, he fought those who would oppress their brethren. Like Arngrim before me, I feelpelled to fight. He stressed thest word, and his voice rose in strength as he continued. Like Arn before me, I will leave the hignds with every warrior willing to take up arms against usurpers, kin yers, and oath breakers! His gaze swept over the assembly. I make no demands, no requests. Peace is the right of every man, and I ask of none to follow me. If need be, my sword shall fight solely on the field.


    All of his men leapt up, some with slowerprehension than others. I am with you, captain!


    Ill follow you!


    To death, theirs or ours!


    This spurred a number of the hignders to do the same, including Ciarns eldest son. As the hall broke out in mours of war, only the lord remained seated, sighing in defeat.


    ~~~~


    The following morning, the local priest of Hamaring stood outside his temple. He wore a chain shirt under his white robe and a war hammer in one hand, a sack of supplies in the other. With him stood a woman his own age and his young acolyte.


    Be good to your mom while Im away, boy, Caradoc instructed him, holding him around the neck affectionately.


    I will, Father, the acolyte promised.


    Theres a goodd. Mind the temple as best you can, the priest added.


    You mind youe back in one piece, Caradoc Whitesark, the woman impressed upon him.


    Id never dare otherwise, the whiterobe mumbled with a smile. I fear you more than the Hammerhand.


    This is no time for acting merry, she scolded him, but the sting of her words was softened when she sniffed and had to wipe her eyes.


    Come,e, wife, Caradoc chastised her gently. They didnt get me thest time, and they wont this time either. He ced a kiss on her lips. Youll see me again before you know it.


    A procession of warriors was leaving the hall down the main street, headed for the gate in the other end of town. Caradoc marched over to join it, only turning back once to wave to his family.


    Brother Caradoc, Brand greeted him with a nod.


    Lord Adalbrand, the whiterobe replied. Lord Doran, he added upon seeing Ciarns eldest son among Brands thanes.


    I did not know you had a mind for war, the young nobleman mentioned.


    Hah! Ive crushed more skulls with this hammer than youve plucked flowers, the whiterobe dered.


    I have never plucked a flower in my life, Doran pointed out a tad offended.


    By that count, Im right, Caradocughed, as did most others within earshot. Besides, the honour of the highnds is at stake! Arngrim of House Arnling was the first decent drakonian I ever met in my life, and Im proud to march next to his son.


    Brother Caradoc, Brand spoke with a light tone, you are wee in ourpany.


    The band, more than three times the number that had followed Brand to Lochan, marched along the only cobbled road in thends of Ln. It led west, connecting their seat with that of the neighbouring n and the rest of Heohlond; on asion, dirt roads spread out like legs on a caterpir, reaching viges and the tin mines in the south by the mountains.


    When afternoon came, it was time for another rest. Some of them dug out what provisions they had brought, sharing them; a few went foraging or hunting, promising to catch upter in the day or tomorrow if need be. Meanwhile, Brand held a small counsel with Geberic, ukos, and ric.


    Find out if any have rtives or rtions in other towns and ns, Brand instructed them. We need to spread the word, especially in the north. It is doubtful whether any from n Cameron wille, but the northern ns suffered most in thest war.


    Theyll be eager for revenge, Geberic agreed. Should we send official messages to the other lords? Lord Ciarn may have rooted feet, but that doesnt have to be the case for others.


    Brand shook his head. I do not wish to be seen encouraging the hignd lords to attack Adalrik.


    Without proper support, we will run into trouble, ric cautioned him. We have few provisions, and harvest is still months away.


    True, Brand granted, but I have no qualms about approaching the lords of Adalrik. As long as we can manage until we cross the border.


    My lord, ukos spoke up, gesturing to direct Brands attention.


    A woman approached the men; unusually, she wore a great sword by the hip. The de was so longpared to her own height, she had to hold the sword hilt pushed forward to keep the tip of the scabbard from scraping against the ground.


    Gwen, Brand greeted her with a smile. I did not expect this.


    One of your men passed by Garmagh earlier today, she exined. He told me you were returning to Adalrik. To war.


    I am.


    Iming with you, she dered.


    I would have thought you had seen your share of war, Brand admitted.


    Living with only ghosts forpany gets tedious, Gwen admitted. Besides, you cut firewood for me, she continued haltingly, ncing away. I reckon were kin, and this is where I should be.


    Brand smiled. I reckon it is. He nced at the small gathering of warriors. We continue, hemanded. Adalrik awaits us.

 Chapter 111: Hand, Head, and Heart

    Chapter 111: Hand, Head, and Heart


    Most of the religious orders in Adalmearc had theirrgest temple in a major city; the Order of the Bear was one of two exceptions. Originally, their temple in Cairn Donn had served as headquarters, but three centuries ago, the whiterobes had built a monastery south of the city upon a teau in the Weolcan Mountains. Refusing to use anybour other than their own members, the priests had spent decades hauling stones up the mountain paths to their chosen location; simrly, only brothers of the Bear had been used to hew the stones into ce and construct the actual tower.


    The conclusion had been an architectural feat to rival any done by the guild of engineers in Fontaine, as the finished tower stood precisely two hundred feet. The reason for its location and height was simple; here, the whiterobes could make unparalleled observations of the night sky, mapping the stars and ensuring the calendar of Adalmearc followed their celestial dance. It was in this tower that Caradoc Whitesark had been educated as an acolyte in his youth, and three decadester, he made his return.


    He made thest stretch of the journey inpany with a convoy of donkeys and their driver transporting food to the temple. The cortege moved up the long, winding paths along the mountainside; passing around a bend and reaching the teau, they found the massive tower looming above them. While continuing his casual chat with the driver, Caradoc gave a hand in unloading the goods from the beasts; several whiterobes issued from the tower to perform the same task, and they greeted Caradoc heartily.


    Whats your name and home, Brother, and what brings you here? one asked.


    Caradoc from the temple at Lochan, he replied, shaking a few hands. I need to speak to Brother Conall. If the old wolf is still alive, he added with augh.


    He is, and age might have dulled some of his fangs, but not his wits, another jested. Youll find him at his tell-craft.


    Much obliged, Caradoc told them and ventured inside.


    ~~~~


    Although built like a tower stretching upward, the temple of Ardbeann was wide enough to amodate hundreds of people, not to mention the wide range of exploits pursued by the whiterobes. At the lowest levels were the kitchens, butchery, and living quarters; passing through them, Caradoc greeted familiar and new faces alike before reaching the staircase to ascend upwards.


    Next came the workshops. One floor held those found in any city, where whiterobes with the right skill served as tailors, cobblers, parchment-makers, leatherworkers, and so forth. The floor above was where inquisitive minds tinkered with metal, wood, fabric, and leather, creating many ingenious contraptions and ever improving upon them. The finest clocks in all of Adalmearc were made here, and the sale of these devices provided a stable ie for the whiterobes. Since it was necessary to have the foundry, smithy, and tannery outside on the teau, these floors hadrge windows with rope systems on the outer wall, allowing for material and items to be quickly transported up or down; it wasmon among the novices and acolytes to use this transportation device for mischief, and more than one aspiring whiterobe had cracked his head on the ground below.


    Before proceeding further, Caradoc paused at a fountain to quench his thirst. An array of pipes collected meltwater from the mountain and funnelled it into the tower; with clever use of the pressure created by the water flowing down the mountainside, every floor had a constant stream of cool, fresh water for any purpose.


    The next floors were the libraries, considered the treasure room of the monastery. A few books detailed the history of the temple and the order, and there was one or two books of poetry and verse. The remainder were repositories of knowledge meticulously gathered over many centuries by the whiterobes. Above all, they contained intricate patterns detailing the movements of the stars and how to calcte their positions throughout the year. This had necessitated advanced arithmetic to be developed, and many other books were dedicated to this study. After that followed metallurgy, masonry, and other crafts that required a knowledgeable head to bebined with skilled hands, and much of the lore contained in these volumes was put to use in the workshops and foundries below.


    The final levels just below the roof of the tower were dedicated to tell-craft. At night, the whiterobes would stand atop the tower, observing the sky. During the day, they would return to the floor just below the roof,paring new observations with old and using arithmetic to predict not only how the constetions moved, but also anticipate sr and lunar eclipses, meteor showers, and everything else in the heavenly firmament.


    As Caradoc arrived, he found several whiterobes at work scribbling runes, calcting figures, andparing star maps. All of them had beards and hair as pale as the cloth they wore; considered the finest work that a brother of the Bear could carry out, astronomy and arithmetic were only for the whiterobes held in highest regard.


    Brother Conall, Caradoc called out. He spoke with a subdued voice as befitted the chamber where minds were concentrating to the fullest; due to their advanced age and apanied loss of hearing, none heard him. Brother Conall, he repeated, approaching the other man.


    The leader of the whiterobes raised his head from theplex figures on the parchment that he had been examining. Despite his frail and aged looks, his gaze was sharp. His brow furrowed in thought. Brother Caradoc, he spoke slowly, digging the name out. I thought you were in Lochan.


    I was until recently, Brother, Caradoc replied, sping the high priests hand carefully. I came to speak with you.


    The high priest put down the quill in his hand. It must be important if a simple missive does not suffice.


    It is, though I was travelling in this direction in any case, Caradoc admitted. In Lochan, I met the son of Arngrim. He sought refuge against the viins that rule Adalrik, but now, he seeks to return. He calls upon every hignder of worth to follow him.


    If thats your wish, Ill not stand in your way, Conall told the other priest.


    Thank you, Brother, though I did note for permission. I came to request that the Order of Hamaring stands behind Lord Adalbrand, Caradoc eximed, raising his voice. Some ten years ago, a tyrant ruled in Middanhal and savaged ournd. The time hase to avenge this and dethrone another tyrant! At this outburst, the other whiterobes raised their heads to send disapproving nces his way.


    Conall breathed heavily. It is hardly the purpose of this order to engage in war, he spoke slowly. We are not warriors, nor am I a lordmanding soldiers.


    Any man who can take up arms is a warrior, Caradoc countered. I fought in the war against the drakonians as well as any gallch!


    I am sure you did, the high priest replied. But our brothers are here to pursue knowledge or serve our god. Neither of those purposes are met by going to war.


    We must also serve the people, Caradoc retorted. The honour of the highnds was stained by the blood of every one of our people ughtered by the Order. When the hunteres, the deer may flee, but the bear has no fear!


    Quiet! another priest demanded.


    Still, the hunting hounds will bring the bear down, Conall pointed out. We are few people in the highnds, and fewer whiterobes still. Would you have our order lose every brother fighting for revenge?


    I would have our brothers fight for honour.


    Conall was silent for a moment. I will notmand any of our brethren to risk his life fighting against one drakonian to aid another. But, he continued with his frail voice, I will let you plead your case.


    My thanks, Revered One.


    And well you should be grateful, Conall sniffed. Ill have to address them in the dining hall. He stood up with some difficulty. All the stairs I need to walk, in my age.


    Caradoc lent him an arm for support. I would think you took this trip each day. Where else would you sleep and eat but at the lower floors?


    I have food brought to me, and I sleep in an alcove in the next room, Conall revealed as they moved to the stairs and began a slow descent. I havent been to the lower levels in months. Consider this pilgrimage to the hall below my contribution to your cause. Caradoc gave a heartyughter in response.


    Will you be quiet!


    ~~~~


    Thergest room in Ardbeann was the dining hall, allowing the approximately two hundred whiterobes to take their meals together. The only drink was water; anything else would necessitate transport up the mountain path. Inpensation, the whiterobes ate their share in meat, bread, and green. About half a century ago, attempts at nting a small orchard on the mountainous teau had seeded, allowing for fruit, and the temple had always had a pigsty and a chicken coop to provide meat and eggs.


    As the meal approached its close, Conall rose up to stand. All eyes turned towards him, and silence befell the room. You are probably all wondering why I took the trip down to eat with you tonight. His crisp voice echoed through the room. It certainly wasnt for the pleasure of yourpany. Scatteredughter came in response. News has reached me, and if they have managed to travel all the way to the top floor, Im certain you lot heard it long ago. Theres war in Adalrik. He paused, inhaling deeply. This war has been going on for more than a year, and you may wonder why I bring it up now. However, as I have been out of breath for thest hour thanks to those damnable stairs, Ill let Brother Caradoc exin.


    Thank you, Brother Conall. Caradoc rose to take the floor. Some weeks ago, a young nobleman of Adalrik came to Lochan, where my temple is. He sought the refuge of his kin, for his mother was of the tath of Ln, and the despotic rulers of Adalrik sought to take his head. They saw him as a threat for two reasons, he exined, letting his voice bellow. His sess on the battlefield, fighting rebels and ounders, and his lineage, for on his fathers side, he is dragonborn. He is Adalbrand, son of Arngrim, a name known to many here. Voices murmured and heads nodded in agreement. Arngrim died trying to stop the savagerymitted against ournd, our people, as the Order ughtered viges and butchered innocent men, women, and children. Old King Sighelm was a tyrant, Caradoc shouted, and our people paid the price for it!


    Hear, hear! Fists and cups were mmed against the tables.


    It is time to reim our honour, Caradoc dered. Lord Adalbrand marches to Adalrik against the usurpers in Middanhal, and I march with him. To show the drakonians that the highnds will not suffer in silence. To repay the blood they spilt upon our fields. To make the voices of the tuatha heard!


    Many responded with cheers and shouts, but one whiterobe stood up and raised his hands to silence the crowd. And what do you expect from us? he asked. That we abandon our duties to die in Adalrik, fighting for this Adalbrands cause?


    His cause is ours, Caradoc imed. We fight for justice and to see honour restored in Heohlond.


    Another rose as well. We are priests of Hamaring. Our heads are for knowledge, our hands are for crafting. Each of us has a purpose here, he told the assembly. I fail to see how it serves our god or this order to fight in foreignnds.


    Our brother has a point, a whiterobe argued, pointing towards Caradoc. Many of us stood aside when war raged in the highnds, and our people died.


    What good does it do the dead to fight now?


    Nothing, but it tells the living that the Order of the Bear will protect their honour, their homes, and their lives, Caradoc eximed.


    What does our high priest say? someone demanded to know, looking at Conall. Do you encourage that our brothers throw their lives away?


    Silence befell the room as Conall slowly stood up. Each of us has a purpose here, as our brother said. He gestured to one of the previous speakers. This very tower exemplifies this. Hands carved and carried the stones to build it. Minds calcted its shape and size. Now it lets us use our eyes to ever understand the stars better. He paused. Some of us, like myself, have spent a lifetime standing at the top of this tower, gazing at the night sky. Yet the hands at the foundation that clean the pipes, allowing us all water to drink, fulfil as important a role. We must all serve how we serve best. Hands, minds, eyes, all are subjected to the heart. He let his gaze sweep over the assembly. Let each brother serve as he sees fit, whether it is in this temple, in the cities of the realms, or upon the field of battle. Imand none to leave and none to stay.


    Thank you, Brother Conall. I depart tomorrow with every man willing to fight, Caradoc dered.


    So be it. Tomorrow, our brothers may leave, never to return. Tonight, we shall have no further argument, the high priest determined, and his brethren bowed their heads in eptance.


    ~~~~


    At sunrise, nearly twenty whiterobes gathered outside the tower of Ardbeann. All had weapons of some kind that relied first and foremost on strength and were wielded by two hands, whether hammers, clubs, or axes. The priests looked expectantly at Caradoc.


    Where to now?


    The army should be encamped north of here on the road to Cairn Donn and Cragstan, he told them. Theyre a sluggish bunch, he grinned, moving slowly. I cant imagine theyll have gotten far ahead of us since I left.


    Army, even? someone remarked. From what I heard, this Adalbrand has less than a score of men.


    When he arrived in Lochan, true, Caradoc borated. But our people areing from all the highnds to fight as if Arn himself was giving the call. Our numbers must be counted in the hundreds rather than in scores.


    Enough talk, someone growled. Lets get a move on. Grabbing hold of weapons and what else they brought along, the whiterobes began the descent down the mountain path.

 Chapter 112: Two Reasons

    Chapter 112: Two Reasons


    The day after leaving Ardbeann, the group of whiterobes reached the small army following Brand. Spread out across the rocky terrain, it was a mixed affair. Tents of undyed colour were scattered through the area, pitched in clusters without pattern or thought. Here and there, banners proimed the identity of a minor house from one of the ns, though none of the emblems belonged to any of the ruling houses. Despite the disorganised appearance, the priests were hailed by guards as they approached the camp.


    Whos there?


    Hammer and quill! A bunch of norns, cant you see? one of the brothers shouted, making the othersugh.


    Its me, Caradoc Whitesark, muttered the eponymous priest. Ive brought those of my brothers back whos ready to fight. Wheres the captain?


    How should I know? The guard gave a shrug.


    Lads, this mancks proper respect for Hamaring and his followers, Caradoc dered with a threatening voice. He advanced upon the guard, hefting his hammer; behind him, his brethren raised their weapons menacingly.


    Sorry, the soldier stammered, I dont know where the captain is. Probably in the middle of the camp.


    Caradoc broke intoughter. I figured as much, boy. Just keeping you on your toes. Its the duty of any good priest. Still grinning, the whiterobes moved past the guard to enter the camp and announce their arrival.


    ~~~~


    Thank you, Brother Caradoc, Brand told the priest after hearing his report. The men will be bolstered seeing you and your peers in our ranks.


    d to help, the whiterobe replied brusquely. They were standing inside Brands tent, generously gifted by one of the minor lords who had joined his cause. Wheres your shadow? That Theodstan fellow. Well be in his home soon.


    Geberic is in Cairn Donn, Brand exined. That is why we stopped early today. We are buying what supplies we can before the next stretch of the journey.


    Until we reach Theodstan, Caradoc nodded. How will the good jarl react upon seeing hundreds of hignders descend upon his jarldom?


    We will find out soon enough, the young captain smiled.


    My lord, ukos spoke as he entered; he and another kingthane had been standing guard outside.


    What is it?


    Geberic is back, and he is not alone, the heathman exined quietly. From the looks of it, he is apanied by someone of high rank.


    Brand walked to the opening of the tent and nced outside. First, his eyes caught the banner of n Cameron progressing through the camp; looking down, he saw twenty heavily armed warriors surrounding an old man in rich furs. The whole procession was led by Geberic. While still some thirty paces away, Geberic gestured for the others to wait and approached Brand alone. Milord, he spoke with a subdued demeanour.


    Who is this? Brand nodded towards the old man.


    That, milord, is the r ruirech himself, Geberic exined, causing every man to react with surprise.


    That is King Brin? Brand asked incredulously.


    None other. His men approached us in the city and said the king demanded a meeting with you. They followed us back here, the man-at-arms borated.


    We better give the king what he desires. Let hime, Brandmanded, retreating into the tent.


    Momentster, the tent was more than crowded. In the back stood Brand, nked by ukos, Geberic, one of his kingthanes, and Caradoc. Opposite stood Brin, king of Heohlond, and as many of his sworn men as could fit inside. Appearing to be in his seventies, the monarch stood straight and did not seem burdened by his years. Perhaps, the king began to say in a hoarse voice, we might speak privately, Lord Adalbrand.


    My king, one of his men eximed in disapproval.


    Brin raised a hand dismissively. I doubt the noble Lord Adalbrand will cut me down during a civil meeting. If his men can trust that I will not knife their captain during our informal conversation, he continued with a sardonic smile, I think we can extend the same courtesy.


    Of course, Brand agreed. Your galligh may rest easy. No harm wille to you by my hand or any of my men.


    You heard him, the king added. Leave us. All of you. His protectors exchanged nces but finally did asmanded; Brands men did the same, leaving the two groups to stand outside, staring menacingly at each other.


    I regret I cannot offer you a seat, my lord king, Brand spoke politely. We have only the barest of necessities in my small band of followers.


    Your army, you mean, Brin corrected him. Your army consisting of my subjects. He gave Brand a scrutinising nce, having to raise his eyes to look the captain in the face. Are you surprised by my visit, Lord Adalbrand?


    I had expected some form of reaction once we entered thends of your tath, Brand confessed, but I did not imagine my lord king would appear personally.


    The monarch gave a joyless smile. You know our words. No wonder you have fooled these people into following you.


    Each man in this camp hase because he believes it is the right thing. Same goes for the women, Brand added, and a genuine smile flickered across his face.


    Regardless, Brin continued, I came to give you a warning. I will not ept my people going to war against Adalrik.


    They are not, Brand argued. My enemy is the jarl of Vale and his ilk.


    He is the lord protector, the king spoke pointedly. He is Adalrik. He has levies, the Order, and mercenaries on his side. While you have a ragged band of malcontents. I would not care if all of them die on some gods-forsaken field in the lownds, except for how it reflects upon me.


    How would it reflect upon you, my lord king? Brand asked courteously.


    As if I have no control over my own kingdom. As if the tuatha do as they please. As if when the oireacht assemble, another tinaiste than my son should be chosen. Confusion touched Brands face briefly, and Brin gave another mirthless smile. I see you have not learned all our words yet. Perhaps you should stay longer in the highnds than a few weeks.


    If that is why you came, consider your warning delivered, Brand told him.


    You will not heed my words, the old man contemted. You will continue ahead, ignoring all the ill omens until you are utterly defeated.


    Brand could not help butugh. Forgive me, my lord king, I mean no offence. But I have never known defeat on the battlefield, and I do not intend for that to change.


    The king gazed at him intensely. I have heard the tales. In part, that is why I came myself rather than send an envoy. I wanted to measure the man who brought the famous Athelstan of Isarn so low. No doubt these men praise you for that, Brin scoffed. Many of them would have lost someone when Athelstan won the battle of Cairn Donn.


    It counts in my favour to some, Brand admitted.


    Brin nodded. I have taken my measurements, and I shall rest easy tonight. I have no doubt you are most capable at winning battles, Lord Adalbrand. The title was spoken with little reverence. But you have no knowledge of winning wars and the peace that must ensue. You gather peasants to your cause, spiting the lords whose fields will not be worked when summeres. Nor will the lords of Adalrik look kindly upon the man leading an army of invaders to ravage theirnds and renew an already costly civil war. Making friends of farmers and enemies of noblemen is a poor strategy for any ruler.


    If you will allow me a question, my lord king. Have you read Master Anselm and his treatise concerning governance? asked Brand.


    I have little need for books to teach me this subject, the king spoke with disdain. I have ruled as king longer than you have been alive, boy.


    Allow me nheless to share his wisdom, the captain requested. Afterwards, my lord king can tell me if the old masters words ring true.


    Get on with it, then.


    Master Anselm exins that if an enemy is within your power, there are only two reasons for letting him live, Brand stated. The first is if he cannot possibly be of any threat to you, and you wish to appear magnanimous.


    The second?


    The second reason for letting him live is if killing him would only create more enemies.


    I see your point, but I imagine you will exin it to me nheless, the king remarked with a sigh.


    Brand gave a sardonic smile of his own. If you had the power to stop me, you would have done so by now. You realise the danger in opposing me, the son of Arngrim and the victor against Athelstan, which are only two out of many reasons why your people support me. Thus, you havee in a feeble attempt to discourage me from any course of action that would upset your tenuous rtionship with Adalrik, because discouragement is your only weapon against me.


    Brin took a deep breath. You have a king in your tent, boy, and rather than attempt making an ally, you let your arrogance rule your behaviour. You best return to your books, for you have much to learn. I bid you farewell, Lord Adalbrand. We shall not meet again. The king turned to walk out of the tent.


    Not unless it is on the steps of the Temple in Middanhal, Brand spoke quickly.


    Brin stopped abruptly and nced over his shoulder,ughing hoarsely. If that is the case, I will bend my knee dly. But my instinct tells me that if I ever see you in Middanhal, he continued with a contemptuous smile, it will be because your head gazes down upon me, mounted on a spike above the gate. The king left, and his men joined ranks to escort him out of the camp.


    Brands own men filtered into the tent. What did he want? asked ric, who had arrivedte and been pacing outside anxiously, hearing his lord was unguarded.


    Just empty words. Did we get supplies in Cairn Donn? Brand asked.


    Aye, enough tost us a week, perhaps. Longer, depending on what we might gather, Geberic informed him.


    Good. We can take our time marching out of Heohlond. There is still a chance for more of the brave hignders to catch up and join our ranks, Brand considered.


    Aye, Geberic grinned. Never thought Id march alongside a band of stone-lickers, but damn me if it doesnt feel good to see more of them arriving each day.


    Get used to it. We have only just begun, his captain dered smiling.


    ~~~~


    The next day, Brands army set into motion once more, continuing their march west. Thend they passed through could hardly be called fertile, and for the most part, they encountered only brown grass and the asional goat, the only beast that could subsist on such feed. As they progressed, this began to change. Flowers appeared, scattered across the hills. This was not merely because the hignder army was reaching Theodstan and gentler soil; it was a sign that spring had arrived in full force, finally. Soon, crops would grow on the fields, the animals would give birth to offspring, and food would be abundant. The season of summer, and with it the season of war, was fast approaching.

 Chapter 113: People of the Stone

    Chapter 113: People of the Stone


    Underneath the keep in Cragstan, countless hours had been spent digging into the rock below, allowing for a crypt to be hollowed out. Here rested the jarls of Theodstan and their kin. As space was scarce, all couples shared a sarcophagus, and small children rested with their parents. At first, it was merely one chamber, meaning that closest to the entrancey men and women from before Theodstan was even a jarldom, going back more than a thousand years. Additional chambers had been opened up over time; in the deepest of these sat Theodoric.


    All of the stone coffins were simrly made, carved in in form, while the lids were engraved with the names of those inside. To one side, his parents rested together. Next to them was an empty plot, waiting for the day Theodoric would join them. On the opposing side, sleeping inside her stone prison,y Theodwyn next to her husband. Thetter had been dead for many years, and a few weeks earlier, Theodoric had brought his sister that the two atst could be reunited.


    Isenhart sent a messenger three days ago, Theodoric exined into the empty air. He felt bold enough after histest victory to demand I submit to him. I thought about ying for time, the jarl admitted. The old Theodoric would have bought as many days as possible, dying any answer. This Theodoric, he continued, spent the shortest amount of time possible telling the messenger to go straight to Hel, preferably with Isenhart in tow.


    He smiled. I could hear your voice as I said it. It was phrased exactly how you would have done it. He sat on the floor, leaning up against the stone that embraced his sister. I imagine they will not care. Middanhal is what matters. I have not raised my banners either, so it should be obvious I pose no threat. Though part of me would relish watching Isenhart run his thick head against the walls of Cragstan. I would consider our home the strongest castle in all of Adalrik.


    He paused. Are you disappointed in me, Sister? Were you expecting that I would call my troops to assemble and storm Middanhal until I could ughter each man involved in your death? His lips twisted upwards for a moment. You probably would have expected nothing less. But it isplicated, he imed. I suspect many could have given you the push to send you to your death. A thane to that spiteful little brat, most likely, but which one? What if he had another do it, like one of the Hawks? What if it was someone else entirely, someone I wronged years ago who finally decided to strike back?


    Theodoric sighed, letting his head rest against the cool stone behind him. If it truly was the doing of Hardmar, he is beyond my reach. His thanes are scattered. Some at least are dead by my hand, but I know not if any of them were guilty. I would dly punish your killer, Theodwyn, whoever he might be, wherever he might be, if only I knew. He cleared his throat. I have made such questionable decisions, he admitted. Konstans yed me like a lute. While I was blinded by grief, he fooled me. I am confident he had the prince in, but I can only reveal this by admitting that I was also present that fateful night. If I lift a finger to use him, the remaining fingers point the me at me.


    All my mistakes have be ghosts to haunt me. I convened the Adalthingst year, thinking to set myself up as a ruler, only to hand the realm to Konstans and the Hardlings on a tter. He breathed in slowly and exhaled again. I feel adrift. I could not tell you who I would rather see defeated in this war, Isenhart or Valerian. I miss your advice, however infuriating it could be to have your overbearing voice in my ear. I would trade every coin in Theodstan just to have you infuriate me one more time. The jarl fell silent; no further words followed, only another sigh.


    Theodoric remained in the crypt for a while; in the darkness, it was hard to tell how much time passed when his reverie was finally disturbed. Milord?


    What is it, Holwyn, he enquired with a weary voice.


    Something you need to know, she began hesitantly. Theres an army not far from the Crag.


    Theodorics head turned sharply to look at her. Under whose banner?


    Thats what mystifies us, milord. They dont seem to be marching under any.


    A peasant army? No, that does not make sense, Theodoric considered. Thosezy bastards have nothing to revolt about. Send scouts to find out what they want, hemanded, standing up, and have every able-bodied man within ten miles assembled and outfitted for war.


    Your steward has already seen to both, Holwyn told him reassuringly. He merely sent me to inform you.


    Very well, Theodoric granted. Summon Richard and Brogan. I will meet them in the hall.


    Yes, milord.


    ~~~~


    Richard, margrave of Alwood and vassal of Theodstan, had gone to Cragstan since the armies of Isarn had raised the siege at Grenwold. With the Order leaderless and Vales forces in disarray, there had been none to give him new orders, and the knight was not in any hurry to return to Middanhal; instead, he followed the example of his liege, keeping out of the conflict for now. After Theodwyn had been buried, Richard had stayed in the city; Alwood was among the smallest fiefs in Adalrik and held nothing of interest to its lord beyond letting him buy new horses when needed.


    Because of this, he was avable to counsel Theodoric, arriving to find the jarl already there with the captain of his thanes. How was this not discovered earlier? Theodoric demanded to know.


    We were keeping watch to the west, in case Isarn or Vale would send any forces against us, Brogan exined defensively. How could any know that an army of hignders would suddenly appear?


    Certainly we were caught unaware, the jarl spoke with gritted teeth. Do we know of any tension between King Brin and the lord protector? Does he have cause to join Isarn upon an assault against Middanhal? he asked Holwyn.


    No, milord. The r ruirech seems on good terms with Jarl Vale. It is possible he is responding to a call to arms from the lord protector.


    That would make sense, Richard interjected. Athelstan gives the Hawks a beating, so Valerian calls in new allies.


    I suppose, Theodoric granted, though his voice was tinged with doubt. If this army is marching against Isarn, it would have been polite for King Brin to at least give me warning before he marches through mynds.


    We will find out soon enough, Richard spoke cidly. Once the scouts return.


    One thing speaks against your interpretation, Brogan interceded. If this army belongs to King Brin, regardless of whether hees as friend or foe, why is not being led by the banner of n Cameron?


    Richard frowned. Fair point.


    Milord, another man called out as he burst into the hall; it was Theodorics steward. Your scouts return with a message, he rted.


    So soon? I thought this army was miles away, the jarl frowned.


    Apparently, your outriders met a messenger from the army not far from Cragstan. With your permission, milord, I will send him in. We need not fear his intentions, I believe, the steward exined with something resembling a smile.


    His frown deepening, Theodoric nodded nheless. Very well, I look forward to some kind of exnation.


    The steward disappeared, and momentster, Geberic strode into the hall. Faces lit up in surprise or excitement upon seeing the former thane of Theodstan. Geberic, you old dog! Brogan greeted him, hurrying forward to sp his hand.


    Geberic, Richard eximed brusquely, of all the bastards in the world, your name is far down the list of who I expected toe through that door.


    Good to see you as well, the man-at-arms grinned before giving a bow before Theodoric. Milord.


    Geberic, it has been a while. I am pleased to see you unharmed.


    Not as pleased as I am to be unharmed, came the swift reply, apanied by a wry smile.


    Last I saw you was in the Citadel, keeping watch of Lord Adalbrands sister. I suspect his escape, the arrival of a hignder army, and your presence are connected, the jarl surmised.


    Ever clever, milord, Geberic acknowledged. Supported by the ns, Lord Adalbrand hase to right the wrongs done to him.


    He is wee to do so, Theodoric granted, as long as it is done elsewhere. I have no interest in seeing Theodstan turned into a battlefield.


    I am no envoy, milord, Geberic rified, merely a messenger. Lord Adalbrand requests an audience with your lordship. He is willing to go to Cragstan, should your lordship promise free passage.


    The jarl nced at the men assembled. I promise Lord Adalbrand free passage in and out of Cragstan, in the presence of these honourable men.


    Excellent. Geberic gave a small bow with a satisfied expression. I shall return immediately and inform my lord.


    ~~~~


    Hourster, Brand rode into Cragstan; he was apanied by Geberic, ukos, and his seven kingthanes, riding on every horse their small army currently possessed. Dismounting in the courtyard of the keep, the steward weed them and led them into the hall. As before, Theodoric stood waiting with Richard and Brogan; a number of his thanes were also present.


    Jarl Theodoric, Brand greeted him courteously.


    Lord Adalbrand. The jarl gave a curt nod.


    Brand, as I live and breathe! Richard shouted. He had been conversing with some of the thanes but now pushed his way forward, grabbing Brands hand to shake it vigorously while pping his back.


    Richard. I am pleased to see you as well, Brand smiled.


    When I heard what those ck-jawed viins in Middanhal wanted to do Richard growled without finishing his sentence.


    There will be timeter, Richard, where you might conscript our guest to indulge your fantasies, Theodoric told him a tad sharply. For now, we have matters that warrant discussion.


    We do, my lord jarl, Brand agreed.


    I assume you havee to request passage through mynds? Theodoric posited.


    That would be a start, Brand considered. In truth, I havee to request that you join me.


    Eyes exchanged nces across the hall. If the prospect of being a rebel and having my head severed from my neck intrigued me, the jarl responded overbearingly, I would have joined forces with Isarn long ago.


    You seem doubtful of my chances, Brand remarked neutrally.


    I suppose during negotiations, I should wrap my words in courtesy. As it is, I have grown weary of the courtesy of courtiers. Meaning is veiled inyers, and insults have their barbs underneath silk. These days, I find that in truth suffices for my needs.


    Then truth you shall hear. We have both suffered injustice at the hands of Jarl Vale and his brother, Brand dered. Many of the others present, whether his or Theodorics thanes, murmured in agreement. We may be rid of Prince Hardmar, but the real tyrants remain in power in Middanhal. We have fought together in the past, Jarl Theodstan. You have followed my campaigns in Adalrik and Hthiod. Do you truly doubt I can defeat these churls on the battlefield?


    I am sure you can score victory after victory while you have soldiers at your disposal. But with each battle, victorious or not, your numbers will be whittled down, Theodoric argued.


    I intend for my first victory to be so decisive, a second will not be necessary, Brand retorted.


    Hah! Richard eximed, earning a stern gaze from his liege.


    Let us assume that is possible. You will still be faced with assaulting the imprable walls of Middanhal, and unlikest time, I imagine they will be waiting for you, the jarl remarked dryly. Besieging the city is impossible, storming the walls is hardly better, and all the while, you will have a hostile army in the shape of Isarn nipping at your heels.


    Another thing that can be solved. Together, we will unite the entire North against Jarl Vale and have the forces to assault Middanhal.


    Trusting Isenhart is no better than trusting Valerian, or his brother for that matter, Theodoric imed. Isenhart has already proven he will break anyw, any oath, to get what he wants.


    He will not be constrained byw or honour, Brand replied patiently, but by equal strength. He should know how he will fare if he dares to fight me.


    So confident in your fortunes, Theodoric spoke sardonically, considering a month ago, your head was on the executioners block.


    Exactly. Here I stand, at the head of an army. This is only the beginning.


    It may be toote to build this alliance you seek, Theodoric confessed. Some days ago, a messenger arrived from his camp, demanding that I swear him fealty and join the war, Theodoric rted. I rejected his demands. Knowing Isenharts temper, he will not take that well.


    I grant you that, but it proves that Jarl Isarn is aware we should stand together against ourmon foe.


    What I question is what we stand to gain, Brogan suddenly interjected. Heads turned to look at the captain of Theodstans thanes. Right now, enemy fights enemy while we remain untouched. I see no problem in letting these jarls tear each other to pieces! Why should the men of Theodstan die for your vengeance?


    An excellent question, Theodoric assented.


    Last year, you rode day and night to warn the Order army at Lake Myr, Brand reminded the jarl. You marched alongside me across the Weolcans because the realm was under threat, and you felt it your duty to help.


    And I only seeded in making things worse, Theodoric dered. Besides, I did those things to stop Isenhart. The very man you would now ally with.


    I admit, the situation grows ever strange, Brand confessed. Let me ask you this. What do you want? Are you content sitting in this keep, watching lesser men tear Adalrik to pieces?


    Lesser men, the jarl scoffed. I am no better man than Valerian or Konstans, than Isenhart or Athelstan. I used to think so, but that was merely my vanity lying to me. The only difference between them and me is that I am not embroiled in all this death and endless warfare. If I join you, even that difference will be erased.


    Theodoric, Richard protested. You cannotpare yourself or any man here to those dastardly jarls! They fight only to keep their bony grip on power! We, at least, have nobler motives.


    Nobler motives, but the same oue. Men die, Richard, and never those who instigated all of this, Theodoric spoke with a resigned voice.


    Brogan nodded vigorously. Let Isarn and Vale bleed each other dry if they must. Theodstan has no stake in this.


    That could take years, Brand argued, a tad impatiently. Imagine the damage caused if North and South remain divided this way. No salt from Hthiod would reach your jarldom. You cannot sell your wool in Middanhal. All the goods that make life bearable flows through the capital. Your people will not thank you for this.


    My people are grateful for your concern, Theodoric remarked sharply. He took a deep breath. What you ask is no small thing. Isarn is already watching me with doubtful eyes. I could end up with two enemies, both of them stronger than me.


    You are not alone. You have the hignders at your back and the bestmander in the Seven Realms, Brand stated.


    The man speaks the truth, Richard interceded. I am not half-bad leading assaults either, if I say so myself.


    These hignders. They march under no banner. King Brin did not send them, nor did any of the ns, Theodoric surmised.


    True. They are here of their own ord. They fight not because they must, but because they are willing.


    Admirable, but also dangerous. It may not take much for some of them to reconsider, and should just a few decide to leave, they may draw the remainder with them, the jarl considered.


    Once they have their first taste of victory, none of them are leaving, Brand imed.


    Theodoric took a deep breath. I need to consider this matter further. I will not give you any answer tonight.


    Of course, my lord jarl, Brand epted.


    It iste. You may share my table tonight, and we have rooms for all your men. Tomorrow, we may discuss this matter again, Theodoric offered.


    Most kind, my lord jarl. Brand gave a bow.


    Tonight, you experience the hospitality of Theodstan. The jarl made a gesture towards his steward, who nodded in understanding and retreated. I hope you like mutton. It is what we have every night.


    ~~~~


    The next morning, Theodoric stood upon the walls of his keep. He had the city of Cragstan spread out before his gaze; thanks to its small size and elevated position, he could easily see his jarldom beyond. Rolling hills with pastures, asionally broken by cliffs and rocks, met his eyes. Theodstan was stonend; while the region wasrge, it was inhabited by few. They were the people of the stone, and thus the jarldom was named. Whether few or many, they were Theodorics people; he was their ruler, and thus he was named.


    Brand approached him cautiously on the parapet. Good morrow, my lord jarl.


    If it is good, only time can tell. I have pondered your request.


    I am eager to hear more.


    Theodoric inhaled slowly and exhaled. I am hesitant tomit myself to any course of action. It makes no difference to me whether Vale or Isarn rules. Throwing my soldiers into this fight to dethrone Vale, only to have Isarn take his ce  it seems pointless to me.


    What if Jarl Isarn was not to rece Jarl Vale? Brand asked. What if youmitted to a course of action that elevated you in their ce?


    Theodoric sent him a sharp look. You mean to make me lord protector in Valerians stead? No, of course not. The jarls eyes narrowed in thought. You mean to make me dragonlord. Your dragonlord.


    I do. You are fit for the task, and it is a just reward for standing by me in this hour.


    Theodoric let out a deep breath. That presupposes not only victory, but that Isenhart will agree to these terms.


    He need not be aware of what we n once Middanhal is ours. For now, we unite with him against amon enemy, Brand exined.


    Theodoric turned away, looking over the parapet. It is tempting to sit back and watch Isarn and Vale tear each other apart. They are too close in strength that either side can gain victory anytime soon.


    Brand joined him to stand by his side. Yet at one point, one of them will, and he shall look upon you unfavourably.


    I think before ites that far, one or the other will be sufficiently desperate to force me to choose sides, Theodoric continued his deliberations. I suppose you and your army give me the best bargaining position.


    Do I understand you correctly, my lord jarl? Are you prepared to join the war?


    Theodoric gave a slow nod. I am, on very specific conditions that must be met. I will send an envoy to Isenhart and entreat him to enter an alliance with us. If he epts that we fight together, I will raise my levies and march alongside you. Should he refuse, Theodoric warned, regardless of what reason, I will withdraw to Cragstan and wait this war out. I am not going to throw my men against the walls of Middanhal solely for your vengeance or ambition.


    I would not expect such a thing either.


    Along that vein, if you lose your hignder army, I will also retire to Cragstan, Theodoric specified.


    I do not imagine that happening.


    I imagine you do not, which also concerns me and leads me to another condition. My army is mine tomand. While I acknowledge your gift as a captain, you should not expect me to simply fall to heel, Theodoric specified. If I disagree with your strategy or tactics  if I feel it endangers my army unnecessarily  that will be another reason for me to march back to Cragstan.


    That is only reasonable, Brand smiled. I agree to your terms.


    Very well. I will send an emissary immediately to Isenhart.


    Brand stretched out his hand towards Theodoric. And then, we go to war.


    Yes, the jarl agreed, sping the outstretched arm. To war.

 Chapter 114: Northern Men, Northern Steel

    Chapter 114: Northern Men, Northern Steel


    The fortunes of war had changed for Isarn. The Red Hawks had bitterly tried to defend their siege of Castle Grenwold, but constant harassment from Isarns forces had made it untenable. Supplies from Middanhal could no longer be expected to arrive; soon, the besiegers had felt they were beleaguered themselves and were forced to break camp, lifting the siege. As they began a march back towards Middanhal, the harassment continued, constantly costing lives among the Hawks. Under strict orders from Konstans not to engage in actual battle, the Hawks could do nothing but defend themselves in these skirmishes and hasten back towards the safety of Middanhal. As Drakevins Day arrived, all forces loyal to Vale had retreated inside the double walls of the capital.


    This meant that atst, control of the North had returned to Isarn. The jarldom was no longer under threat of invasion, and all enemy forces had been driven from thends of his alliedndgraves. After a dark winter and long months that had portended defeat, the northerners sang songs of victory once more.


    ~~~~


    In the Isarn camp some fifty miles north of Middanhal, a row of prisoners was marching out. With shackles on their ankles, their progress was slow. All of them were Red Hawks taken captive during thest months of fighting. Being mercenaries, Isenhart had little respect for them; rather than allow them to be ransomed, they were being sent to the iron mines of southern Isarn. In this manner, they would be put to use in aiding the war; theirbour would retrieve the ore that the Dwarven smiths of Silfrisarn refined and forged into Nordsteel armour to equip Isarns allies.


    Eumund was overseeing the departure of the prisoners when his kinsman Athelgar hailed him. Eumund, thetter called out. Your father summons you to council.


    Again? I thought we had decided to leave Theodstan for now. He turned to join Athelgar in walking towards the middle of the camp.


    From what I gather, this has nothing to do with Theodstan. Scouts returned with news.


    What news? asked Eumund.


    I was not told yet. I assume you will hear at the council. Some of the thanes have a card game going on. Join us after the council if you wish, he suggested.


    Why not, his cousin agreed.


    They reached the jarls tent and split up. Eumund walked inside to find both his father, his uncle Athelstan, and his fathers cousin Athelbold waiting; thetter was reading a letter but looked up as Eumund arrived. They were seated on simple chairs, forming a half-circle inside the tent. Finally, Isenhart grumbled as his son took a seat. Let us begin. I have been told that an army is amassing in Theodstan.


    While he refuses to join us? So he must be nning to assault us, Eumund argued.


    It could simply be a deterrent against the possibility of our attack, Athelbold countered.


    Quiet, Isenhart growled. There is more. This is not Theodstans army. Although they march under no banner, our spies have discovered the armyes from the hignds.


    Heohlond? Athelstan frowned. Does this mean King Brin is entering the war?


    So it seems. The numbers are small. A thousand men at most, Isenhart rted.


    An advance guard, perhaps sent to reinforce the Hawks, considered Athelstan, the jarls brother and his foremostmander. If we had not been so swift to beat Vales forces back, these hignders would have arrived undetected by us.


    Perhaps it is not King Brin who sends this force, Athelbold interjected. Else they would be travelling under the mark of n Cameron, surely.


    They could be from another n, Eumund pointed out. That would exin why they hide their origin. They have not officially joined the war, but simply sent their warriors to Adalrik.


    It makes sense that Vale would scramble to find new allies now that his mercenaries proved so unreliable, Isenhart snorted. The question is if they are simply marching through Theodstan, or if thetter is makingmon cause with our enemies.


    That should be easy to determine, Athelstan dered. Jarl Theodoric refused to join us. If his levies march with this hignder army, we must assume we face an enemy to the east.


    Isenhart grabbed a cup standing on a small table. Give me your advice on what to do next, hemanded and took a swig of wine.


    We should attack the hignders immediately before any more of them arrive. Scatter them and destroy the threat, Athelstan stated.


    Agreed. Athelbold, the jarls cousin, gave a nod.


    What afterwards? Middanhal is the prize, Isenhart told them. The longer we dy our siege, the more time we give Vale to shore up his defences.


    It is too dangerous to attempt a siege if Theodstan has joined our enemy. Especially if another army from the hignds marches into Adalrik. We will be attacked from both sides, Athelstan warned.


    A small force can besiege Cragstan and keep Jarl Theodoric enclosed. We need not take the city, merely prevent him from fighting, Athelbold argued. That will also allow us to bolster our provisions with what we can plunder from Theodstan.


    What of the hignders? If we detach troops to maintain a siege of Cragstan, they will be vulnerable to any relief army arriving from Heohlond, Isenhart contemted. We will have to invade Heohlond afterwards.


    I think we can do this swiftly, his brother imed. If King Brin is behind this, we march to Cairn Donn. It will not take us long, and the citys defences are surmountable. If Vales new ally is another n, we force the king to respond. Given he would have lost his throne and head if not for my victories in the hignder war, we should find him more amenable than Theodstan has been.


    The jarl sat thoughtful for a moment. Get the army ready. We march against Theodstan tomorrow.


    Hismanders rose quickly. It will be done, Athelstan promised. He and Athelbold left Isenhart and the tent. My sympathies once more, cousin, he added, gesturing towards the letter in the other mans hand.


    It is what it is, but thank you, Athelbold muttered before they separated.


    ~~~~


    Whilst Athelstan went to issue orders, Athelbold went in search of his son. He found thetter sitting outside another tent along with several of Isenharts thanes. They sat on the ground with a folded cloak in the middle, acting as an improvised table. Stacks of copper petties and silver eaglesy on top, and the men were dealing cards while jesting andughing. Athelgar.


    The youth looked up and noticed his father. What is it?


    I must speak with you, Athelbold told him, nodding for his son to follow him.


    Athelgar gave hispanions a chagrined look. If you sorry lot of wretches look at my cards, I will have the jarl string you up, he impressed upon them and received onlyughter in return. Getting up, he walked over to join his father. What is amiss?


    Your mother is ill. Athelbold waved the crumbled letter in his hand.


    All ease vanished from Athelgars face. Gravely?


    The jarlinna would not write otherwise.


    Are you leaving?


    Athelbold shook his head. We expect battle soon, so my ce is here. But you are her eldest child. It willfort her to have you by her side.


    I will leave immediately, Athelgar dered. Anything I should do?


    Just provide your mother withfort, his father instructed. And if the worst should happen, he added, swallowing,fort your siblings. The youngest will not understand.


    Of course. I shall write you when I am home, the youth promised.


    Athelbold ced a hand around his sons neck, patting his shoulder with the other hand. Good. Gods willing, I will be able to go home soon.


    Until then, Father.


    Soon after, Athelbold watched his son ride out of camp with a thane as attendant, moving west towards Silfrisarn.


    ~~~~


    The Isarn army would have been heading out in any case, but preparations for the march were swiftly amended; instead of besieging Middanhal, Isarn would be seeking an open battle with the hignders. In some ways, this made matters simpler; the main camp, strongly fortified and at a location unknown to the enemy, could remain upied for the time being. There was no need to pack everything up and move it towards Middanhal. On the contrary, speed was of the essence to catch the hignder army unaware and before reinforcements might arrive.


    Thus, instead of having the next days to gather everything and send it on wagons along the main road towards Middanhal, the majority of the army had to be ready to move out the next day. Furthermore, their path was directly east, crossing into forests and over hills rather than roads. A forced march in arduous terrainy ahead, calling for provisions to be packed into sacks and anything else that could be carried; the wagon train with any other supplies would have to follow at its own pace on roads more lenient to wheels.


    The changes in preparation were handled with speed andpetence by the Isarn army. After more than a year of campaigning, they had be experienced soldiers. Leaders such as Athelstan, Eumund, and former men-at-arms from the Order had spent winter instilling discipline and routine through rigorous training, which had yielded results. The army of Isarn was bing a formidable fighting force, equipped with the finest steel avable in Adalrik, and the day after the jarls council, they marched east against Theodstan.

 Chapter 115: Broken Quills

    Chapter 115: Broken Quills


    While northern Adalrik was overrun by armies, Middanhal itself seemed undisturbed by war for the most part. The Order garrison was slowly returning to strength, patrolling even Lowtown and maintainingw throughout the city. Goods still flowed through the southern gate, allowingmerce to proceed nearly as usual. Some things were bing scarce, such as stone, wool, or iron, but few people took notice of such shortage yet.


    As long as parchment, paper, ink, and quills were plentiful, tranquillity reigned in the royal library. Pushing the door open, Egil entered and greeted Kate with a weary expression. The former ced a heavy tome on one of the tables, and thetter abandoned her letter practising to take a look.


    <em>History of the Rivends</em>, she read aloud. Its bigger than I thought.


    Imagine me, I had to haul it all the way from the temple, Egilined, catching his breath after the stairs. Not to mention, those whiterobes were loath to even lend it to me.


    Did they give you any trouble?


    They just made a fuss. They cant deny the Kings Quill anything. Or his apprentice. Besides, theyll get it back once I am done copying it. Egil sent a nce towards the door of his masters chamber. Is he still sleeping?


    Hes still inside if thats what you mean. I dont know how much he actually sleeps, Kate replied.


    I see. Egil took a deep breath, picking up the book. I might as well get started on this.


    Are you ready for this work? Kate questioned him. Its awfully big. Have you ever copied a book before?


    No, but theres nobody else to do it, is there? Egil snapped. Weck this book in our collection, and its my responsibility to amend that.


    I know, Kate mumbled. I just thought maybe you should start with something smaller.


    Small or big, its the same work. Put letters on the page. The boy hauled the tome with him into the scriptorium, and Kate returned to her bench.


    ~~~~


    Soon after, the door opened to admit Prince Inghard. You may stay out here, he told the kingthanes apanying him; they nodded briefly and turned to face the corridor with bored expressions while the young prince stepped inside, holding a book in his hands.


    Kate hurried up to give a bow as deep as she could without falling over. My prince, she spoke.


    Kate, he greeted her with a smile. Egil, he added as the scribe joined them in the hall.


    My prince. Have you finished it? Egil asked, gesturing towards the book in Inghards hands.


    I have. It enjoyed it immensely, the prince confessed. He handed the book over to Egil. Sir Etiennes story reads better than any y from Fontaine I have ever watched.


    Its hard to imagine one person going through so much, Kate added, nodding eagerly while Egil ced the book on a shelf. I only wish it had gone into more detail about his time as a prisoner in the South.


    Yes! Inghard eximed. It feels like this was only half the story. And I wonder what happened to him after Tricaster.


    Well, Egil said smugly, turning to face the other two. Thats actually possible to find out.


    No, really? asked the prince. How?


    The Order keeps records of everything, Egil exined.


    And he means everything, Kate emphasised. Eight hundred years worth of scrolls.


    Some of them are really fragile, the scribe admitted with a guilty look.


    We read through them one day, she continued. The Order records where the knights go, she borated, and after the siege of Tricaster, the records say that Sir Etienne returned to his fief.


    It mentions his death some twenty yearster, in his home, Egil concluded.


    Incredible, Inghard told them with a smile. Somehow, it feels good to know that he found a peaceful life afterwards.


    A chamber door opened slowly on creaking hinges. Do we have a visitor? Quill asked with an unsteady voice as he appeared in the hall.


    Master Quill, Inghard greeted him along with a bow.


    My prince, the elderly man smiled, bowing slightly in turn and hiding his hands inside the sleeves of his robe. A pleasure to have you here.


    I came for another book. Something simr to the story of Sir Etienne, Inghard requested.


    Quill gave a nod. I believe we can handle that. He made as if to move, but changed his mind and stopped. Egil, he spoke with a quiet voice, the shelf just behind you should have an excellent ount of King Erhards war against the ounders. <em>The Field of Blue</em>, I believe the title is.


    Egil turned and his eyes ran over the spines until he grabbed a book. Here we are, he mumbled, handing it to Inghard.


    Thanks, the prince replied, taking hold of it with both hands.


    It is your library, Quill reminded him with a gentle smile. I am only happy its owner has such interest in it.


    How could I not? Inghard sent the old scribe a beaming smile of his own. I will be back as soon as I am finished. The prince nodded briefly to them all and left.


    Did the whiterobes send us that book? Quill asked.


    I collected it myself today, Egil told him.


    Good, good. I will get started soon, the librarian mumbled. Our histories are iplete without it. I will begin work soon, he reiterated, turning around to face his chamber door. One of his hands extended from to grab the edge with bent fingers that could not stretch out; with a slightly pained expression, Quill pulled the door open, passed through it, and closed it behind him.


    Kate sent Egil a concerned look. Hell be fine, Egil imed, barely pronouncing the words properly. I better get on with it. He returned to the scriptorium, picking up his feather pen and resuming his work.


    ~~~~


    Every member of Theodorics court had departed from Middanhal, leaving his extensive quarters at the Citadel empty. Arndis had swiftly convinced the steward to let her take over along with Eleanor, letting the two women and their servants make use of the bigger rooms. This meant that while Theodwyn was gone, manydies of the court still gathered in the same parlour with Arndis as the new centre of attention.


    I am told you had something of interest to tell us? Arndis spoke with encouragement, directed at one of the young women present. They sat on couches arranged around a small table. None of those present belonged to any of the highest nobility, but several had rtions among the margraves or even thendgraves.


    My father said that Lady Gunhild should arrive any day now, the young woman replied nervously, looking around at the expectant faces.


    I imagine Lord Marcaster is not mistaken in such cases, Arndis granted.


    Never, insisted the daughter of the aforementioned nobleman. One of his thanes was delivering a message to Hardburg and left around the same time as thedy and her retinue. He hastened ahead to bring my father the reply.


    What message did your father send?


    Oh, I do not  he does not share such with me, the woman admitted, biting her lip.


    Of course not, Arndis spoke soothingly, and Eleanor, seated next to the girl, caressed her arm. You are wee in our midst regardless. With a relieved expression, the girl was on the verge of speaking, but Arndis continued before she could. It will soon be time for the evening meal. I imagine you all wish to attend to yourselves beforehand, she suggested.


    Of course, several of the young women agreed, and with various farewells and promises to sit together during supper, they left.


    Once alone, Arndis and Eleanor sat down again. What do you think Lady Gunhilds arrival means? asked thetter.


    If Lady Alexandras chambermaid can be trusted, and I will grant you that is doubtful, Arndis contemted, I surmise that Lord Konstans overtures to Lady Hardling have been heard, and she is willing to see her daughter wed to the House of Vale. I am guessing that was the reason for Lord Marcasters messenger to Hardburg. The poor man must have deduced the same as us and scrambled to salvage his alliance with House Hardling.


    Do you think he will have any luck doing that?


    I cannot see that happening, Arndis revealed with a casual voice. With the loss of two sons, House Hardling will be looking for the strongest alliance they can, which is Vale.


    Poor woman, Eleanormented. I cannot imagine what losing two sons in such a short span of time must feel like.


    She must be distraught, no doubt, Arndis granted, but war rages. Many mothers have lost sons, and many more will before this is over.


    Of course.


    Have you heard from Sir William?


    Not yet, but I do not think he has reached the siege camp yet. Add to that, it will take a letter weeks to travel back, Eleanor pointed out.


    Part of me thinks he might be safer there than here.


    He is a strong warrior, yet I worry nheless. He was reluctant to admit it, but he received a gruesome wound during the battle for Tothmor, Eleanor confessed. It turned out to be the cause of why he was absent at the battle of Polisals.


    Hopefully, the fighting will be at an end soon. Once the siege of Lakon is won, all of Hthiod should be freed, Arndis remarked. She hesitated before continuing. Have you considered returning to Hthiod?


    Eleanor shook her head. I have no family or friends there. Middanhal is my home.


    I am d. Let us get ready for supper, Arndis suggested. The women parted, each to her room.


    ~~~~


    Bloodied and with harried looks, the rearguard of the Red Hawks marched through the northern gate of Middanhal. They were thest troops to retreat; with their entry to the city, northern Adalrik had effectively been abandoned to Isarn. As they passed through the gatehouse, some of them looked back upon the city defences, noticing an unfamiliar sight. Along with Order soldiers, Red Hawks guarded the gate and the walls; with the threat of an assault upon Middanhal far more likely than before, Captain Theobald had relented and allowed the mercenaries to bolster the garrison upon the fortifications. The general popce, having no reason to inspect the defenders upon the northern walls, had taken no notice of this; it was obvious to the soldiers, on the other hand, and the implicationsy heavily upon them.


    How many do you think weve lost? asked Jorund. The Dwarfs customary conviviality was reced by concern.


    I dont know, Gawad replied with a tired voice. Ask the quartermaster.


    Its probably less than I imagine. Its always less, Jorund considered.


    "Probably. They marched along the Citadel walls on the wide Arnsweg; Order soldiers peered over the crions to look at them. At least for now, the Hawks had not been added to the outer fortifications of the Citadel.


    Its not like we lost a battle. Other than the first one, Jorund yapped on. It was just skirmishes and harassment. Hispanion did not reply. What do you think?


    About what?


    Our situation, thepany, all of it.


    Gawad sighed. I havent slept properly in a week, Jorund. The only thing I think about right now is a bed inside these walls, where I assume the chance of nightly raids is none. Ask me again in ten hours, preferably after youve given me a tankard full of ale, and not the cheap kind that you use when you want to be disgustingly drunk.


    Jorund sent him a stare. Thats more words than youve spoken all day.


    And these are thest Ill speak before sleep, Gawad dered. True to his word, the Hawk did not utter anything else but found the nearest bed in the barracks, falling into deep slumber immediately.


    ~~~~


    Konstans was busy at his desk when the door burst open and his brother strode through. Yes, Valerian? the dragonlord asked calmly.


    I have just been informed in full by the captain of the Hawks, the lord protector dered; his voice revealed a turmoil of emotions. He told me that youmanded him to retreat! Abandon the siege and any pretence of fighting Isarn.


    That is correct. Konstans dipped his quill into ink and continued writing.


    I never gave any such order!


    No, I did. You just said so yourself, Konstans exined patiently.


    The Hawks are paid with my gold! I give them orders! I told them to take Castle Grenwold and continue onwards. Bring an end to this war. Each week it drags on, they drain my coffers, Valerianined.


    You can be rich, or you can be alive, Konstans dered dryly. I assume you do not need much time to decide which you prefer.


    How does this help us? We are cowering behind our walls. How can the Adalthing respect us when we cannot stop this rebellion? the jarl asked. How can you sit so calmly behind that table while our enemy marches against us?


    Konstans threw the quill down in an angry gesture, breaking the tip. Are you expecting me to stride out of the gate and take up the fight against Isarn? Throw myself into the fray?


    No, Valerian replied, taken aback. But you ordered a retreat. We look like we are losing.


    Brother, it is painfully obvious we do not possess anymander of Athelstans mettle. If we are to meet Isarns army, we need more than twice the men he has, the dragonlord specified.


    I suppose we can scrape that together if I raise more levies, Valerian considered hesitantly.


    Not those peasants, Konstans spoke with disdain, picking up his feather pen and inspecting it. I am writing a request to the Silver Spears. If they set sail as soon as they receive this, they should arrive within two months.


    Another mercenarypany? Valerian asked incredulously.


    We need professional troops, his brother stated.


    I am already being bled dry by the Hawks, the jarl moaned. The royal treasury will have to pay. Or else I will have nothing left!


    Konstans took a deep breath. Maybe that is eptable. But keep it quiet. The Adalthing will not be pleased if we are spending the kingdoms gold on mercenaries. From a drawer, he took out another feather pen and resumed writing.


    I am not one to spread such knowledge, Valerian rebuked him, offended.


    Yet Lord Marcaster sent a messenger to Hardburg, hoping to save his alliance with Hardling. There was no reason for him to do so, unless he knew that we had made an offer of marriage between Gunhild and Konstantine, Konstans pointed out with a sharp voice, looking up momentarily at his brother.


    I did not tell anyone except perhaps my wife, Valerian mumbled. She would not reveal anything I shared in confidence, I am certain.


    Of course not. Konstans remarked, finishing his letter. If we are done here, you could make yourself useful and approach Ingmond. He is not contributing anything. Given Isarn is responsible for his familys death, you would think he would put effort into seeing this rebellion crushed.


    I will speak with him, Valerian promised, retreating from the room.

 Chapter 116: Negotiations at Night

    Chapter 116: Negotiations at Night


    Peaceful days followed in Theodstan after Brands negotiations with Theodoric. The jarl had not called a general conscription yet, but had a small force at the ready; they were the soldiers hastily assembled when the army of hignders had first been discovered. His thanes were training them to make the most of the quiet days. Brands sworn men were doing likewise, teaching the hignders as best they can. Besides that, they were foraging in the area and waiting to hear back from the emissary sent to Isenhart; it would take several days for any messenger to find Isarns army, receive a reply, and return. Until then, they were making the most of the time avable.


    Captain! Caradoc Whitesark ran through the rows of men and women fighting, reaching Brand, who was overseeing the training.


    Yes?


    We have been attacked, the whiterobe panted. One of our foraging parties. Two dead. The other three are back at camp with minor wounds.


    Lead me to them.


    Caradoc turned back the way he came, walking with hurried steps; Brand followed straight behind. Soon, they reached the edge of the area that could loosely be called their camp. Two men and a woman sat, looking harrowed. All of them had cuts or gashes, mostly on their arms or legs.


    They stood up as they realised Brand had joined them; he gestured for them to be at ease. Who were they?


    Isarn, one replied. ck swords. I recognised their emblem.


    Brand exchanged looks with Geberic, who had also arrived. Who attacked first?


    They did, milord, no doubt about it. We didnt even know they were present before they were upon us, the woman exined. It was an ambush, in and simple.


    It was good you escaped, Brand told them. Rest and see to your wounds.


    Yes, captain.


    Turning back into camp, Brand began issuing orders. Geberic, ride to the jarl. Tell him what happened and that he needs to send another messenger under a g of truce. Isarns army is not in the west, it is here.


    Yes, milord.


    Gwen, he continued. Choose five men you rely upon and investigate the area between here and where our people were ambushed. If you see any sign of enemy soldiers, retreat at once.


    Yes, cousin.


    ric, double the guards around camp.


    At once, milord.


    Caradoc, tell every man to be ready for battle. We do not move out, but if our camp is attacked, they must be prepared.


    Yes, captain.


    ~~~~


    The first envoy from Theodoric was travelling on the road south and west, seeking to find Isenhart and present a proposal of alliance. Unfortunately, the Isarn army had marched through hill and forest, far from the Kingsroad and hiding its progress. Unaware of any attempt to contact him, Isenhart had moved his army only twenty miles from Cragstan. They were now preparing camp for the night; their forward scouts had found the enemy and drawn blood, meaning a surprise attack was unlikely to seed. Instead, Athelstan had decided to let the men rest that they might fight with full strength tomorrow.


    To march with speed, they had brought no tents or furniture of any kind; because of this, Athelstan was sitting on the ground with his cousin, Athelbold, studying an old map disying the local terrain, when Eumund called out to him. Uncle! Our men have met a messenger from Theodstan under the g of the horse. You shoulde quickly.


    Athelstan rose up, walking towards his nephew. Where is he?


    He is being presented to my father now, Eumund exined, as his uncle and Athelbold joined him. Our men met him after scouting the enemy camp.


    They found its location?


    They did, Eumund nodded. Their numbers have increased since the first report from our spies. They are closer to two thousand hignders now.


    Moving through the primitive camp, they came upon thetest dispatched messenger from Theodstan; he was carrying a g depicting a horsehead, signalling his status as a peaceful emissary. He was in conversation with the jarl, who nodded curtly. Wait here, Isenhart told him and turned to look around until he spotted his advisors. With me, hemanded, beckoning them to follow him. They walked some distance until out of earshot of Theodorics messenger.


    What did he say? asked Athelstan.


    Apparently, Theodoric has changed his mind, Isenhart snorted. He wants to ally with us against Vale. When I asked about the hignder army, I was told a rather ludicrous story.


    Athelbold frowned. How so?


    They im that Adalbrand of all people is leading an army of hignders, who have joined his cause of their own volition.


    Brand is alive? Athelstan eximed; relief touched his eyes briefly.


    So they say, Isenhart scoffed. And while he has been my enemy until today, he is now eager to ally with me. Along with Theodstan, who refused to submit but has already changed his mind.


    It might not be impossible, Athelstan considered. Underestimating Brand is always a costly mistake.


    Adalbrand was taken to be executed the very day you escaped Middanhal, his cousin expressed with a doubtful face. It seems unlikely he should have escaped that fate.


    I and both my nephews did, Athelstan retorted, ncing at Eumund. Brands mother was a hignder. He might very well have sought refuge with her n, who in turn have sent their army with him home.


    If that is so, Athelbold considered, where are the banners of his n? Why is this army hiding its name and nature?


    There can be no cause for that other than they n deception against us, Isenhart stated with growing anger. Just like Vale and Hardling did!


    A look resembling despair flittered across Athelstans face. But why would they lie about Brand? What possible gain could there be iming he is alive and free?


    Who is the onlymander to ever defeat you, Uncle? asked Eumund quietly.


    Athelbold nodded. If I wanted to buy time and convince Athelstan of Isarn to retreat, I would use that name.


    Of course, Isenhart growled. They grow their numbers while we idle. Hignders, Theodstans levies, and Vales mercenaries all gathering to crush us, the jarl murmured.


    Athelstan took a deep breath. I suppose it would be too strange if Brand escaped not only the scaffold but also Middanhal, he spoke doubtfully.


    This is not the first time that Vale has attempted to lure us into a trap with false words of negotiations, Isenhart continued brusquely. He looked at his brother, his son, and his cousin. This time, we spring the trap.


    I agree, Athelbold uttered while Eumund nodded.


    We will turn their falsehoods against them, Isenhart dered, turning to walk back. Followed by his kinsmen, the jarl reached where Theodorics messenger awaited. I have an answer to your master.


    Yes, my lord jarl?


    Tell Jarl Theodstan that I agree to cease hostilities for now. I shall withdraw my troops from hisnds as a gesture of good faith, Isenhart proimed, and await further message from him regarding how, where, and when we may negotiate further.


    My lord will be pleased, the emissary replied, giving a bow and leaving camp.


    ~~~~


    Near sunset, a messenger arrived in Brands camp from Cragstan. He was immediately led to the captain to deliver his message. The jarls emissary was well received by Jarl Isarn, the thane spoke. Isarn are withdrawing their forces, and my lord will soon begin discussions of a formal alliance with Jarl Isarn.


    Thank you, Brand told him, and the thane left to return home. Meanwhile, Brands men crowded around him.


    Thats fortunate, ric dered. We will avoid a needless battle.


    Itll not be that easy to convince Isarn to join forces with us, Geberic muttered. Hes more stubborn than a mule. We could be here for a long while.


    I did have an impression of Jarl Isarn as being particrly obstinate. Strange that he would agree so easily, Brand contemted. He made no demands of hostages from us or proof of our good intent. He narrowed his eyes, ncing around the camp. Our position is not particrly defensible.


    We chose it to be near water, ukos reminded him. We had no reason to expect fighting.


    We still dont, Geberic added.


    If I were our enemy, I would have us thinking exactly that, the captain told the others. Gather my lieutenants and men-at-arms. All of them.


    ~~~~


    Night fell. The moon was weak, and the sky was partly clouded. Conditions could scarcely have been better for the soldiers of Isarn that moved quietly through the forest area. They halted as they reached the clearing where the hignders had made camp. Torches burned here and there, allowing the guards some visibility in the dark night. Besides the asional movements of the sentinels, the camp was quiet.


    Athelstan raised his hand, signalling to the men behind him to stop; they were at the edge of the forest, and stepping forward into the open would reveal their presence. Themander nced southwards; east of his position, Athelbold was supposed to wait with his contingent of men, and to the west, Isenhart and Eumund with theirs.


    It was impossible to spot the otherpanies; Athelstan had no recourse but to wait until it was safe to assume they had reached their position. Given that they were all moving slowly through a thick forest at night, none of them familiar with the terrain, it was easy to imagine one of the contingents getting lost or dyed.


    Tensiony heavy on each soldier wearing Isarns surcoat; some had brought spears, and others had chosen to bring only a sword for the closebat that would ensue. Gripping shields, they breathed deeply in an attempt to stay calm before theing bloodshed. None of them thought to look anywhere but straight ahead at the camp.


    It was past midnight when Athelstan finally gave the signal to advance. The first ten or twenty paces, the Isarn soldiers attempted to maintain stealth; they were still at least fifty yards away from camp when they were discovered.


    To arms! Were under attack! To arms, to arms!


    From three sides the soldiers of Isarn roared forward, flooding the clearing with steel. As soon as they reached the edge of camp, they met resistance. Rather than sleeping warriors, the camp was prepared for their arrival; from every tent issued men and women d forbat.


    The men of Isarn were not only battle-hardened, but drilled like Order soldiers for fighting in formation; thetter was unfortunately for them of no use under these circumstances. Battle was chaos inside the camp with countless skirmishes erupting across the area, and the hignders had the advantage, fighting on familiar ground.


    Brand stood in the centre of camp. While he wore armour and helmet, his sword was sheathed, and no shield was strapped to his arm. Tonight, he was a captain, not a warrior, and he calmly surveyed the battlefield as best he could. They had built a small podium that allowed him to gaze above the tents. His sworn men surrounded the tform, and unlike their captain, their swords were ready. Even though he was the youngest and least experienced member of thispany, Matthew had been given this honourable assignment too. Troy was there as well, clutching his lute and failing at keeping the fear from showing on his face. Lastly, by Brands side stood also Brogan, captain of Theodstans thanes.


    You were right, he admitted brusquely. I did not think Isarn so deceptive. Several of Theodorics best warriors were scattered throughout the camp, ensuring that veteran fighters were present everywhere.


    War makes animals of all men, Brand mumbled. Connor, he called out, gaining the attention of a thane. Take yourpany and reinforce the west.


    Aye, milord! You heard the captain! he roared with thest part addressed to his soldiers. They spread out in a previously determined pattern, bolstering the defenders in the western part of camp.


    Brands eyes did another sweep of the fighting. It is time to end this. Sandar, he called out. Send the signal. Sandar nodded; the warrior was holding a torch, which he now used to light a big fire nearby. The wood burned merrily, letting mes blossom swiftly and fiercely.


    The sudden fire was easily spotted in the night, even among warriors hiding further inside the forest. Charge! ukos yelled. Along with a hundred men, he dropped down from the tree branches where they had been hiding. They rushed through the wood, reaching the clearing to attack the Isarn soldiers in the back.


    From another side, ric led a simr assault. The attackers became the defenders as their ambush was ambushed. With the hignders attacking them from behind, confusion reached its climax, and any remaining semnce of order among Isarns warriors evaporated.


    Athelstan had retreated a few steps from the fighting, standing with a bloodied sword and seeking to examine the battle. His limited field of vision hindered him; all he could see were men dying. Watch out! a soldier shouted next to him. Athelstan swung around to find a screaming hignder charging him. He let his shield deflect the iing blow and struck back; his sword had little trouble piercing the leather tunic protecting his attacker, who fell to the ground.


    Others by his side had not reacted as quickly; several of the soldiers around him fell to this surprise assault. Soon, Athelstan was engulfed in fighting. Its Athelstan! someone yelled, recognising him. The hignders swarmed towards him; all of them had either fought at Cairn Donn against him or lost rtives in that battle.


    Pressed from all sides, Athelstan found himself surrounded by enemies and his situation most dire. Regardless, he continued to fight coldly, calcted, and there was no trace of panic upon his face. While his enemies had limited training and poor equipment, Athelstan was an experienced knight d in the strongest armour known in Adalmearc. Keeping his attackers at bay, the captain of Isarns forces had the mental fortitude to locate his own troops fighting nearby. In a skilful dance, Athelstan pushed his enemies back, outmanoeuvring them until he broke through their ranks and joined his own men.


    With me! Athelstanmanded. Move as one! Shields together! His presence and voice brought rity to the Isarn soldiers fighting in disarray. They closed ranks, protecting each other, and moved to link up with other groups. Some of their brethren, who had been farthest ahead, retreated from the camp to the safety of numbers; others tried but fell before they could get that far. Retreat! Athelstan called out. Orderly retreat! To me!


    Any who heard hismand and couldply, did so; the remainder were surrounded inside the camp, deserted by theirrades and struck down. On the other fronts, Isenhart and Athelbold surmised the same as Athelstan had done; their nightly raid had been turned against them, and nothing further could be gained. Only the dark woods held some promise of safety, and each of the Isarnpanies pulled back, cutting down the hignders standing between them and the forest edge.


    ~~~~


    It was morning when the army of Isarn returned to its temporary camp. The soldiers were exhausted, and many of them suffered from injuries. This was not an excuse to becent, on the contrary; guards were chosen among those unscathed, keeping a tight watch of the surroundings. Athelstan had no intentions of being caught unawares twice in the same forest.


    While the men saw to their wounds, themanders of Isarn assembled to hold council. How did this happen? growled Isenhart. Despite having fought and marched through the night, he showed no sign of weariness; his rage kept him not only standing but pacing. There must be a spy in our midst!


    Or they did not believe us when we imed we would retreat, Athelstan remarked with a tired voice. He stared out into the distance.


    It could have gone worse. They did not have the numbers to properly envelop us. We had losses, Athelbold told them, staring at each of the other men in turn, but so did they.


    We could not bring our dead back, Eumund pointed out, meaning we have given them valuable armour and weapons. Our enemy is better equipped today than yesterday.


    What if they told the truth? Athelstan interjected. What if Brand is alive and he is leading that army?


    Cousin, we have discussed this. It is irrelevant, Athelbold reproached him.


    Everything I know about warfare, I taught him. He would have guessed my intentions and known how to react, Athelstan continued unabated.


    If that brat is alive, I will see him dead, Isenhart swore. Without him, I would be sitting upon the Dragon Throne in this very moment! His exmation made his brother whip his head around to send him a disturbed look.


    It does not matter, Eumund argued. We have lost the element of surprise. We are exposed.


    True, Athelstan conceded. The hignders excel at fighting in this terrain with all the hills and forests between us and Cragstan. It will be a slow push forward, giving Theodstan further time to assemble his armies. We have to retreat.


    Retreat? The word burst from Isenhart with indignation. Allow this hignder rabble to send us scurrying home?


    We will be caught between hammer and anvil, Athelbold told the jarl. While we fight step by step to reach Cragstan, Vales army will begin to bite at our heels.


    Eumund nodded. We must retreat until we know the full extent of what we face. We cannot tell how many more of the hignders will join that army.


    Isenhart looked as if his eyes would burst from his face; upon seeing all of his counsellors in agreement, he became less agitated. Very well. We will retreat. But one day, I will make every hignder in Adalrik pay in blood for this night, he swore with malice in his voice. Hismanders spoke nothing but simply dispersed to prepare the army to march.

 Chapter 117: Promises

    Chapter 117: Promises


    More than a week of restitution followed after the nightly assault. The hignders rested, tended to their injuries, and distributed the spoils of the battle among Brands adjutants. Sharp watch was kept throughout the surrounding woods, but there were no further signs of the Isarn army; it had retreated beyond Theodstan to lick its wounds. Brand personally went with the scouts, examining traces of the enemy along with thend itself, deepening his understanding of the terrain as he had been taught to do by Athelstan years ago. When he went back to camp, he was prepared to give battle in this area to any army, whether Isarn or Vale.


    Returning to the clearing, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong. Several of his lieutenants came running towards him, clearly agitated. Brand dismounted from one of the few horses avable to the ragged army, sending them all a concerned look. What is amiss?


    The warriors looked at each other. You tell him, Gwen, youre the one who found out.


    The woman cleared her throat; her hands were nervously ying with the rings on her Nordsteel chain shirt. The hignders are deserting.


    What? rm flooded Brands face.


    A rumour is spreading, or maybe its true, Gwen began to exin. The r ruirech has send word to remind us that he alone may lead the tuatha to war. Anyone who follows you is in breach of thew of the highnds. Any who does not immediately return will forfeit theirnd and livestock.


    As Gwen spoke, the colour faded from Brand until he looked sickly. How many have left?


    Hundreds and hundreds more. It started yesterday. Even now, people are packing, ric borated.


    Brand hastened into camp with a frantic expression; everything around him confirmed the news. Many tents were gone, and more were being pulled down; the foraged food along with what Theodoric had sent as a gesture was being stuffed into sacks. Stop! Brand yelled. Those nearby nced at him, but none reacted otherwise.


    Captain, Geberic spoke quietly as he approached, its no use. Weve been trying to convince them since yesterday to at least wait until you returned. They wont listen.


    They cant risk having their farms taken, Gwen added. Their families will starvee winter.


    You cant abandon us! Brand eximed desperately. We have only just begun! The hignders paid him no heed.


    They continued to leave throughout the day.


    ~~~~


    When morning came, the sun shone on a near empty clearing. Fast was broken mostly in silence. Brand did not eat but gazed at those who remained. All the men who had followed him into exile from Adalrik were still present as were a handful of hignders; most of them were either whiterobes or people from n Ln. He did not speak while the mealsted. Many sent him silent looks, but all others were quiet as well. Finally, Brand rose.


    Geberic, ukos, Matthew, Nichs, and Quentin, he called out. And Troy, he added. As he named them, they raised their eyes at the captain, and the remainder of those present followed suit. You followed me into exile from Adalrik. Do you follow me now?


    Aye, milord, Geberic confirmed. The others nodded and voiced their agreement.


    ric, you and your fellow thanes. Do you follow me still?


    Yes, milord, they all hastened to say.


    Brother Caradoc. You and your fellow priests choose to remain?


    We serve our god by being here. What does themand of a king matter to us? smiled the whiterobe.


    Lord Doran. You and those of your tath are still here?


    Yes, my lord. We assume my father will not be punishing anyone from Ln as long as I am here, the young man grinned.


    Any chickens I had left have long since been pilfered anyway, Gwen remarked with a shrug. Youre our nsman.


    Aye! The remaining hignders shouted in unison.


    Brand gave a smile that seemed born of both mirth and sorrow. In that case, I will not abandon hope. He nced around. But we cannot remain here in this open position. We need walls around us, should Isarn return. Gather anything worth bringing along. We go to Cragstan today. The warriors set to work immediately, and once the camp had been scoured, they began their march towards the city. All in all, they numbered around fifty.


    ~~~~


    The city guards spotted them from a distance, alerting the keep. Thus, when Brand and his people entered the courtyard, Theodoric stood waiting for them. I heard, the jarl muttered with a low voice. Are these all that remain?


    They are, Brand replied, turning to look back at them. Few in number, but hearts stronger than a thousand men.


    I would rather have the thousand men, Theodoric remarked. At least this few will not be a burden to feed. You may stay at the Crag until you decide what to do next. Should Isenhart march against me, I will have use of you and your warriors.


    Of course, Brand nodded.


    Do not expect me to march against him or Vale, for that matter, the jarl continued; he spoke quietly that only Brand might hear. My army alone is no match for either of them. I warned you of this.


    You did, Brand acknowledged. I will not demand that you cast yourself against stronger foes. But a respite behind your walls will be wee. I need to consider my next move.


    As do I, Theodoric admitted. I stand isted. Before, I assumed Isarn and Vale would be too busy fighting each other to spare me a second thought, but now Isenhart is a vengeful man.


    For what it is worth, I am grieved at what I have cost you, Brand told the jarl. I have done you wrong.


    Theodoric sent him a surprised look. Words I did not expect. Yet I will not hold you to me, he admitted reluctantly. I should have stood by your side, not only at thest Adalthing but also the year before. Much would have been different.


    Enough of such speech, Brand dered with an encouraging voice. We will get lost, dwelling on the past. Tomorrow is another day.


    Theodoric seemed disinclined to agree, but he spoke no reply; he merely gestured for Brand and his people to enter the keep itself.


    ~~~~


    Several days passed without notable events when one fine morning, Nichs and Quentin ventured just beyond the city gate to practice their archery. Jesting with some of the guards that left the gatehouse to watch their craft, it took a while before any noticed a retinue of horsemen moving swiftly along the Kingsroad; soon, they rode up the hill upon which the cityy,ing close enough that their colours could be identified. Their cloaks were red, showing them as servants to a jarl; the other hue upon their surcoats was gold.


    No less than twenty-one men rode into Cragstan, of whom twenty were thanes to Jarl Vale. As thepany entered the courtyard of the keep, they all dismounted, and stable hands hurried to take care of the exhausted mounts. Only then could the steward of the keep identify who rode at the head of this column.


    Lord Konstans, he eximed with a stutter.


    Where is your master? I seek an audience with him at once, dered the dragonlord of Adalrik.


    Of course, milord, the steward managed to reply, bowing deeply.


    ~~~~


    An hourter, Theodoric left his study with Konstans still inside. The jarl walked down the corridor and entered another room where Brand sat waiting. What does he want?


    He has heard of Isenharts failed attack, Theodoric exined. He assumes, quite rightly, that there is now outright enmity between me and Isarn. He offers the protection of his forces, should Isenhart attack again, in exchange for my aid.


    Brand gave a slow nod. I suppose it was inevitable. You have made an enemy of one side, forcing you to join the other. At least that is how he reasons.


    He is right, Theodoric admitted. Isenhart sees me as a threat, and I have too few men to resist him in the long run. Taking Cragstan may be too costly for him, but he can freely ravage and plunder mynds. Unless I have a strong ally to deter him. Thest sentence was spoken cautiously.


    I would be hesitant to trust Lord Konstans, Brand warned him. You saw his power and ruthless ability to use it at the Adalthing just a few months ago. From nothing, he conjured up usations against me and evidence to match. I went frommander of the Orders armies to a prisoner ted for execution, all upon his word.


    Believe me, Theodoric impressed upon him, I know fully the extent to which Konstans may manipte events. When he showed up here, I was half-tempted to have him thrown in chains.


    I would not stop you, Brand remarked.


    But he has willingly walked into the dragons den because he knows I cannot hurt him. I already have Isarn against me. If I make Vale my enemy as well, all of Theodstan will pay a heavy price. The nobleman swallowed, ncing at Brand. My ancestors were jarls when yours were kings, Lord Adalbrand. I will not be thest of my line.


    Are you prepared to let your soldiers die in service to Vale? Brand asked sharply.


    Surprisingly, he does not demand that. Vale intends to use mercenaries to win this war. Quite right, Theodoric granted. Peasant levies will not defeat Athelstan.


    I could, Brand proimed fiercely, as I already have.


    The jarl raised a hand in a disarming gesture. I am aware. That does not mean I can refuse Vale. He asks only for provisions and fifteen crowns a year while this war continues, he exined. In return, my people may remain home, and Vales mercenaries will defend my jarldom should it be necessary.


    How can you trust Vale would risk his army? If Isarn invades, what guarantee do you have that your gold has bought anything but empty promises?


    If Isarn plunders Theodstan, he will take the very supplies that are promised to Vale. Furthermore, Theodoric continued, I will not pay the gold until next year. Vale is desperate for allies, the jarl considered. His offer is reasonable by any means. He took a deep breath. I cannot say no to this.


    Brand sat silent for a while. You have a duty as a jarl to protect your jarldom. If I have not overstepped the bonds of any friendship that may rest between us, I would only ask onest request of you.


    Yes?


    Brand took a deep breath. Set a final condition. Lord Konstans must repeal the doom upon me and see me reinstated as a knight.


    Theodoric frowned. That is unusual to demand.


    It is myst hope. I am an ouw, my lord jarl, exiled from thend that I have fought to protect. At least as a knight, I will have honour and dignity, not to mention purpose.


    The jarl nodded slowly. I will make this demand on your behalf. But Konstans is shrewd. He is bound to realise this means there is a bond between us. Perhaps he will even guess that you are in this very castle, in this very hour.


    Then let us not pretend. I will go with you and state my case to him directly, Brand suggested.


    That is a bold move.


    Victory is oft won by boldness alone. If hiding my presence is impossible, let us not attempt it.


    Theodorics face was warped in thought for a moment. Very well. Come with me.


    As the door to the jarls study opened, Konstans gave it an idle look; when he saw Brand walk through it, he rose to his feet with an astonished expression. You!


    Lord Konstans, Brand greeted him with curt politeness.


    There is an addition to our negotiations, Theodoric pointed out.


    You harbour an ouw, my lord jarl, the dragonlord stated, staring at Theodoric.


    That is in itself not a crime. While Lord Adalbrand is in Theodstan, he is under my protection.


    As you wish, Konstans conceded. How does this affect our agreement?


    I have a final condition, Theodoric exined. You must rescind the death sentence hanging over Lord Adalbrand and see him reinstated as a knight of the Order.


    Konstans sent Brand a discerning look, eventually sitting down. That is no small request.


    Nor is it unjust, interjected Brand. I led the Order to numerous victories. I have earned my golden spurs.


    Theodoric raised a hand in a gesture to calm Brand, but Konstans did not seem perturbed. I will be forthright with you. I have no interest in seeing you on the scaffold in Middanhal.


    Both the other men in the room looked at him in surprise. That is not the impression I receivedst we met.


    Executing dragonborns is not very popr. We all saw how Captain Berimund reacted, Konstans stated dryly. Besides, with the death of both princes Hardmar and Gerhard, the public killing of another atheling will only cause further instability in the realm. I do not seek your death, Lord Adalbrand.


    Do you ept my condition, in that case? asked Theodoric.


    Konstans shook his head. It is not that simple. Your guilt was decided by the Adalthing, he spoke, addressing Brand. A king may show clemency, but I am only the dragonlord. The Adalthing would use me of abusing my power if I disregarded its verdict and did as I pleased.


    Brand stared straight at him. Given that they dance to your tune, I find that hard to believe.


    Theodoric cleared his throat, looking at Brand, but Konstans did not seem to take offence. I am getting restless looking at you two standing up, the dragonlord imed. He gestured towards the empty chairs. Hesitantly, the other men in the room sat down. Better, Konstans smiled. Here is my suggestion. The Adalthing is only weeks away. You may present your case, asking for your crimes to be forgiven.


    I havemitted no crime! Brand eximed, gripping the arm rests of his chair tightly. I deserve to have my honour restored in full, not to beg for mercy!


    It does not matter what you deserve, Lord Adalbrand, Konstans told him calmly. There would have to be a new trial against you, but there would be no new evidence or witnesses to bring forward.


    You could be a witness, Brand argued. Say you were wrong and that I am innocent.


    And damage my own prestige irreparably? Let us remember who is asking whom for a favour, Konstans spoke while raising a finger. You have greater need of us, Jarl Theodoric, than we have of you. I am already overlooking that you are harbouring a convicted traitor against the Crown. I am willing to pledge my brothers support in the Adalthing to have your guilt forgiven, Lord Adalbrand, and that is as far as I will go.


    That seems a vague pledge, Brand retorted.


    Jarl Ingmond hates you, Lord Adalbrand, which is entirely your own doing. Many of thendgraves may feel the same. With my brothers margraves and Jarl Theodorics, you have most of the support you need in the Adalthing. But I will not make promises, Konstans specified. You have a cunning ally, he continued, nodding towards Theodoric. If you cannot gain the remaining ten votes, do not me me for the animosity that you have inspired in the Adalthing.


    Adalbrand, Theodoric spoke quietly, he has a point. You should remain here at Cragstan in safety. I will speak to the Adalthing on your behalf and see your spurs restored.


    I am to cower like a wolf trapped in its den while my fate is decided by other men? Brand asked angrily, standing up.


    Konstans gazed up at him. Again, I remind you of your negotiating position. You have nothing to offer in return. I do this simply as a gesture of good will towards the jarl. He nodded towards Theodoric.


    A fine gesture that holds no real guarantees, Brand almost sneered. Give me another guarantee, and I will acquiesce.


    Adalbrand, Theodoric spoke in warning.


    I admit, your audacity amuses as much as it astounds me, Konstans spoke. Go on.


    I want your written guarantee, signed and sealed as dragonlord, that I will be allowed to depart Adalrik in peace to seek my fortunes elsewhere. Regardless of whether the Adalthing restores me to my knighthood or not.


    Adalbrand, you ask too much, the jarl protested, standing up to stare Brand directly into his face.


    If Lord Konstans truly does not seek my head, it is of no consequence to promise, Brand responded sharply, meeting Theodorics gaze.


    Thendfrid will hold sway soon, Konstans mentioned, looking up at the other two men. Ouw or not, as atheling you will be protected until the Adalthing ends.


    After which you will have free reins to hunt me down, Brand retorted. I want safe passage out of Adalrik after the Adalthing ends. Or, he added slowly, I will seek out Jarl Isarn and offer him my services. I will cross the Weolcans again if I must, bringing steel and death to all of Vale!


    Adalbrand! Theodoric yelled sharply.


    Konstans sat silent, staring at Brand. Very well, he finally agreed. I have my seal with me to sign the treaty with the jarl. It is no matter to write a guarantee that you may depart this realm unharmed. But, he added, standing up, any such promise will not protect you in the event of your return to Adalrik. Nor will your status as dragonborn.


    Fine.


    Furthermore, Konstans continued, looking at Theodoric. It will be twenty crowns a year that you will pay, not fifteen. All that you have demanded of me, including theck of respect I have been shown in this room, has a price.


    The jarl took a deep breath. Agreed. Even as he spoke, he looked upon Brand with indignation.


    Konstans broke into a smile. Excellent. Swift negotiations are always preferable to me. If you have ink and parchment brought, we can have it all written, signed, and sealed immediately. The sooner I can return to Middanhal, the better. I must prepare for the uing Adalthing. As must you, I surmise.


    Within the hour, Konstans and his thanes left Cragstan. In his possession, he carried a treaty between Vale and Theodstan, stating the terms of their alliance until the end of Isarns rebellion. Behind him, he left a written promise that Adalbrand of House Arnling would have safe passage to leave Adalrik throughout the summer of the year one thousand ny-eight.

 Chapter 118: Allies

    Chapter 118: Allies


    Theodoric departed a few days after Konstans had done so. As the dragonlord had predicted, time was suddenly pressing the jarl; the Adalthing was about three weeks away, and Theodoric had a vote to win that would require nearly all the southernndgraves swayed to his side. It was time for favours to be returned or granted, promises made or kept, and vows exchanged or renewed.


    Brand and his men stayed behind. While thendfrid offered protection for any member of the Adalthing for two weeks before solstice, he was not going to arrive early, tempting fate or repeating his previous experience when travelling to the assembly. With Theodorics permission, Brand was dying his departure as long as possible.


    Because of this, the young captain was still at Cragstan when Geberic entered his room after knocking. This is going to sound strange no matter what, the greybeard admitted, scratching his neck.


    What is it?


    That spy from Hthiod is here to see you.


    Who?


    Godfrey, he calls himself. Given his nature, probably one out of many names. Geberic scowled at the mention of such viinous behaviour.


    Various expressions flowed across Brands face. Send him in.


    Godfrey entered immediately before Geberic could even fetch him. Well met, he smiled. Geberics scowl only deepened.


    Leave us, Brandmanded.


    Milord, came the objection.


    Leave us.


    With a final grumble and growl against Godfrey, Geberic departed. The wanderer stepped further inside to sit down on the bed. Things are quite a mess, I hear.


    Brand sank into a chair. I am not sure if you know the full story, but matters can only be worse than you imagine.


    I believe I know everything. Septimus told me of your escape from Middanhal, and  other sources have informed me of your deal with Lord Konstans.


    Brand sent him a disbelieving look. How could you possibly know? And so soon?


    Godfrey gave an overbearing smile. If you think a conversation between the dragonlord and a jarl can be kept secret, you have much to learn.


    I do, Brand admitted. Part of me wants to burst into the Adalthing and demand each of those snivelling cowards to beg my forgiveness, or I will do my utmost to see them all hang. Unfortunately, he continued, I must instead remain silent while Jarl Theodoric speaks on my behalf, begging them to forgive me for crimes I nevermitted.


    At least you have learned to listen to the second of those two voices, Godfrey encouraged him.


    Not an easy feat. Brand gave him a closer look. I have a memory vague in my mind, as if it happened in earliest childhood and not a few months ago. Tell me, I ask you ardently, what did I see below the Temple?


    Godfrey gazed back tight-lipped. Matters we should not speak of.


    I dream of a tree, Brand exined. When I wake up, there is a moment where I think I see it. Ash tree, with branches that move though no wind sways them.


    Godfrey let out a long sigh. Septimus was wrong to inflict this upon you. Suffice to say, the Temple harbours a secret. It is my task above all to safeguard it. Whether you want to or not, you have been recruited for the same purpose. He motioned towards the sword of sea-steel that still hung by Brands side. That was not lent to you lightly.


    Brand nced downwards surprised, as if only noticing the weapon now. I will be honest. I have not had asion to use it once.


    Perhaps that makes you worthy of it after all, Godfrey considered. When I heard that Septimus had both shown you the antechamber and lent you that de, I am not sure what made me angrier.


    Brand stared at him intently. I thought at first that you served the Highfather. Now I suspect it is reverse.


    There is hope for you yet, Godfrey remarked dryly. He took a deep breath. I came here for a specific reason. The siege of Lakon has been lifted.


    How so? asked Brand sharply.


    A relief force of ounders arrived from the Reach. Sir William withdrew the Order forces along with the dalemen.


    They did not lose a battle?


    No.


    Brand let out a small sigh of relief. At least the army is intact.


    I have to return to the Reach, Godfrey told him. Matters areplicated beyond exnation, but I believe we have a chance to strike against the ounders and their Godking.


    Why do you tell me this?


    You are smart enough to know.


    Brand nced at the empty wall. You want me to return to Hthiod. To fight the ounders.


    There are plenty of men in this world who can swing a sword. I need you tomand the fight.


    Am I to risk my life for men who would see the executioners axe on my neck?


    Yes, Godfrey told him sternly. No different than every soldier in that army, risking his life to protect all the peoples of the Realms. When he lies dying on the battlefield, do you think his name is known by any of them? His voice grew fierce. Do you think he will be remembered? What makes you so specialpared to every man that serves under you?


    Brand sat silent. Every answer Ie up with seems like folly, he finally admitted.


    Godfrey exhaled deeply. I cannot force you. In the end, the choice is yours. But you were born for this, Adalbrand. He stared directly at the young captain. I believe this whole-heartedly.


    Hispanion returned the gaze. Call me Brand. He gave a weak smile. I have grown so used to it, being called Adalbrand makes my hair bristle.


    Godfrey smiled back. Very well. He paused for a moment. The choice is yours. Unless you object, I will travel with you back to Middanhal. While I need to hasten south soon, I will stay in the city until the Adalthing has convened.


    Of course, Brand nodded. We leave in a few days, once thendfrid has begun.


    ~~~~


    As decided, some fifty people departed Cragstan barely two weeks before solstice and the gathering of the Adalthing; with a leisurely pace, they would arrive shortly before the assembly. For the most part, thepany suffered from a subdued mood; the exception to this were the whiterobes, whose cheer seemed indestructible.


    One thing that bothers me, one priest mentioned, is the colour of our robes. It is the least practical colour for doing anything, especially fighting!


    True point, someone else conceded. I spent half a day after the battle trying to get rid of these blood stains. Those Isarn boys may not fight well, but damn me to Hel if they dont bleed well! Raucousughter followed.


    Maybe Hamaring prefers it this way, Caradoc mused. A priest whose robe is always clean is a priest who never does an honest days work, he put forth.


    What youre saying is that the best sacrifice you can give Hamaring are the stains on your robe, another brother argued.


    There is some truth in that, Caradoc acknowledged.


    That must be why they call you Caradoc Dirtsark behind your back, came the witty retort.


    Listen to this court jester! Caradoc growled. The stitches on his bear are barely done, he murmured, referring to the emblem upon the whiterobes chest, and already this cub is challenging his elders!


    If we dont put our strength to the test, do we truly possess it? came the ponderous retort.


    True, Caradoc conceded. Tonight, Ill test my hammer against your face. His words were met with good-naturedughter.


    ~~~~


    Thepany moved on foot; while Theodoric had offered to lend Brand some horses, thetter had declined, resolving that he would walk same as his warriors. For the most part, his thanes formed a circle around Brand, walking at the head of the column; as they drew close to Middanhal, Brand dismissed them from his presence and bade Godfrey join him instead.


    What is on your mind? asked Godfrey as he caught up to Brand.


    Brand stared at the white walls and towers in the far distance. If I am tomit myself to the campaign in Hthiod, I want to understand why. This sword by my side, for instance. He touched the hilt hanging by his waist. You know its origin. You know what it was meant to protect. I would not be surprised if you even knew who ced it there, ages ago.


    You may be right about all those things. Or maybe I am just a traveller, grown a bit touched from solitude, Godfrey suggested with half a smile.


    Brand gestured towards Middanhal ahead. What lies underneath the Temple? What are we all risking our lives to defend?


    Godfrey took a deep breath. I cannot say, for I have not the words. How would you exin moonlight to a blind man?


    Is that what we all are? Blind men, stumbling around in the dark?


    Godfreyughed briefly. That is often how I feel. He grew serious once more. There is a Song being sung, Brand, and if it were to stop, the consequences would be disastrous. That is the best way I can describe it.


    Brand waited a while before answering. Very well. I will let that satisfy me. There is something else, he continued. You strike me as a man capable of keeping a secret.


    That is a fair assessment, Godfrey admitted with a wry expression.


    I cannot tell any of my men. Or Gwen, Brand added with a faint smile. I would simply be putting the burden on them, not to mention undermine their confidence in me.


    What troubles you?


    Brand exhaled deeply. I have made so many mistakes. I fled this city earlier this year, and now I am marching back because I have run out of options.


    I have known other people in worse straits than you, my friend.


    But this is my own doing, Brand continued. The king of Heohlond warned me, and I was too arrogant to listen.


    You met with King Brin?


    I did. Do you know him as well?


    Only by name. He is a clever man, I am told, Godfrey rted.


    He is, Brand admitted. He knew I was blinded by pride. I paid him no heed when I should have tried to make him my ally, and in return, he took my army from me with but a word.


    I heard.


    I did the same with Jarl Isarn, Brand confessed. When I guessed he came to attack our camp, my only thought was how to punish him for it. I drove him into retreat. If I had made it in I knew of his intent, he would not have attacked. We would havee to terms rather than fighting.


    Or perhaps not. Jarl Isenhart is a tempestuous man, Brand.


    As if this was not bad enough, I all but forced Jarl Theodoric to abandon my cause as well, having lost all other allies. Brand gave a prolonged sigh. My fate rests in the hands of others, because my own have let everything slip.


    You have made one clever move, hispanion pointed out.


    Which is?


    You have made an ally of me. Godfrey let his smile linger as they continued on their march.

 Chapter 119: Home

    Chapter 119: Home


    Even war could not subdue the festivities of summer solstice; Middanhal was packed with people. In the days preceding, hefty bartering and bribing had taken ce among the Red Hawks between those desperate to be off guard duty and those eager to profit on the former. His purse considerably lighter, Jorund was among the Hawks leaving the Citadel on the morning of Summer Day. He was not wearing his surcoat with its red hawk nor weapons or chain shirt, but a fine cotton tunic instead underneath a light cloak.


    Leaving the southern courtyard, he moved west to reach the quarter squeezed in between the Citadel and the mountain of Valmark. Smithies and workshopsy here for the most part, many of them supplying the Order with equipment. The neighbourhood had another peculiarity; most of its residents were Dwarves. At a nce, they might easily be mistaken for Men; only the gold or silver ring that all of them wore in one ear set them apart.


    As Jorund moved among them, he was greeted happily by most of the residents, whether Dwarves or Men; today was a day of feast for all. He returned their well-wishes fondly, passing through the main streets until he reached his destination.


    It was thergest house in the neighbourhood and resembled a guildhall in structure and size. It had the distinction of being the only building owned by Dwarves in Middanhal; they were otherwise forbidden from owning property, but royal dispensation had been obtained in this particr case. Above the big door were carved the runes that few but Dwarves still used as letters; they proimed this the dwelling of the dvalinn. Walking up the stairs, Jorund knocked on the door.


    A Dwarf opened. What do you want?


    Summers greeting to you on this day, Brother, Jorund spoke politely.


    Summers greetings, the servant replied.


    I am Jorund of Dvaros, he exined. I have no kin in Middanhal to celebrate the solstice with, and so I havee seeking the hospitality of the dvalinn.


    The other Dwarf sent him a measuring look, from his cotton tunic to the golden ring in his ear. Step inside, and well have a look at you, the servant finally said, stepping back to allow Jorund entry. Lets see them, then.


    Jorund unsped his cloak, let it fall to the floor, and pulled off his tunic afterwards. His bare chest was revealed to contain numerous runes drawn into the skin, which the servant quickly examined, tracing his finger over the lines. Very well, Jorund of Dvaros, son of Hkon, born to Gunna, I will announce you to the dvalinn. Wait here.


    Jorund gave a nod and put his tunic back on as the servant left. Picking up his cloak and folding it, he spent some time looking at the parlour. It was richly decorated with carvings and ornaments everywhere, much in the style of the temples to Hamaring. Runes were interspersed with figures, both telling the stories of dvalinns past.


    He will see you now, the servant dered, interrupting Jorunds ruminations. Thetter followed the former from the parlour, passing into the main hall of the building.


    It had one long table with numerous chairs; servants were flitting about, preparing for the feast. In the far end stood a few Dwarves that were not upied with this task; their rich clothing also distinguished them. The doorman approached them with Jorund in tow.


    Master, he spoke, gaining the attention of the others. This is Jorund of Dvaros,e to seek your hospitality.


    The dvalinn nced at him. Your name has been confirmed, I am told. Master Jorund, wee to my hall.


    When he was addressed, Jorund made a deep bow. My lord dvalinn, he spoke in greeting. I am honoured to stand in your presence.


    Dvaros is far from here, but you are wee among your kind in Middanhal, spoke the lord of the hall.


    My thanks, Jorund replied. I should not wish to spend this celebration apart from my brethren.


    Another Dwarf standing by the dvalinn sent Jorund an inspecting look. What brings you here? It is unusual to see a Dwarf arrive without having family or friends in the city.


    The answer came with slight hesitation. I serve in thepany of Red Hawks. I have spent thest years in thends surrounding the Mydlonde Sea.


    A superior look came over the dvalinns advisor. You have sold your service, in other words.


    I have seen the world, Jorund retorted, experienced wonders and even brought a few of them with me back. Such as this. From a pocket, he withdrew a small bundle. Unwrapping it, he revealed a yellow gemstone inside. This is a topaz. It is rare in the Realms, even in the South, and they jealously guard the secret of its origin. I was told there is an ind in a sea far from here, which is the only source of it. Jorund extended the gem with a small bow. A token of my respect, my lord dvalinn.


    The lord epted the precious stone with one hand, stroking his finelybed beard with the other. Your respect is deep-felt, Master Jorund. Be wee tonight at my table.


    The Hawk gave a final bow. My thanks, my lord dvalinn. I shall see you tonight.


    ~~~~


    On solstice day, there was no toll for entering the city. Many took advantage of this, and heavy traffic into Middanhal was always to be expected. Even so, the arrival of Brand and his retinue drew attention. Several of the Order soldiers manning the northern gate recognised him; some even saluted him. None attempted to hinder his passage; thendfrid was in effect, protecting every member of the Adalthing. It did not necessarily extend to those in his following, though, and the former kingthanes now sworn to his service hid their faces under hoods; none of them were interested in being recognised.


    Walking east from the gate, they reached the nobles quarter in Middanhal, passing magnificent and opulent mansions. At length, they reached the family home of House Arnling. The gate was open; inside, the ce was bustling with activity by men in green surcoats, unloading crates from carts.


    Looking around in disbelief, Brand moved forward until he was noticed. Outsiders not allowed, a brusque Red Hawk shouted at them. Get out of here!


    Brand stared him down. You are standing in my house, he proimed. You will remove yourself, good master, or be forcibly removed.


    The Hawks began clustering around theirrade while Brands men simrly nked around their captain. Youre the condemned prisoner who fled, one of them guessed. And stupid enough toe back. Several of them hefted their weapons ready.


    I am under the protection of thendfrid, Brand dered. That means to attack me until the Adalthing has convened is to attack the Adalthing itself. You will all hang if you so much as spill one drop of my blood.


    Youre trying to evict us from our quarters, a Hawk pointed out. Were just defending ourselves, as is our right.


    Youre willing to fight rather than vacate my home? Brand questioned.


    I dont think you have more numbers than us, someone imed. You want us to leave, you make us.


    Consider this. There are many ces in the city where you might quarter. But this is my only home, the young nobleman dered. I was born in this house, as was my father before me. I have far more reason to fight for this ce than any of you. Behind him, his thanes stood ready; the whiterobes held their weapons with a grin.


    Enough. A Hawk appeared from the back. This isnt worth spilling blood over. Well get assigned new quarters. Pack up your things and leave.


    We just finished unloading half the carts, someoneined.


    Quiet, the same Hawkmanded. Tell your men to be at ease, he requested of Brand. Solstice is no day for fighting.


    I will agree to that. Brand gestured to his warriors, who rxed and put their weapons away. Meanwhile, the Hawks began to gather their belongings.


    Too bad. I was curious what kind of fight these red birds put up, Caradoc remarked prosaically.


    ukos.


    Yes, my lord?


    Find my sister at the Citadel. Escort her here when she is ready to leave, Brand instructed him.


    Yes, my lord.


    ric, take your men and watch the Hawks as they leave. Make sure they leave behind anything that is not theirs.


    Yes, milord.


    Brother Caradoc?


    Yes?


    If I recall, one of your brothers is an apt cook.


    True, more than one of them have a gift in that regard.


    Good. See what food can be gathered. Today is solstice, and we should celebrate as best we can.


    Aye!


    ~~~~


    Kate entered the tower, carrying an assortment of cakes and fruits. I just got what I could find, she told Egil.


    Thats fine. Master Quill will enjoy any of that, the apprentice replied.


    Are you sure? He doesnt seem to enjoy anything these days.


    He always likes solstice, Egil dered firmly. He went over and knocked on Quills chamber door. Master? The tournament will begin soon. Kate and I were thinking we should go watch it together. There was no reply. After knocking again, he opened the door to find Quill lying on his bed.


    I am sorry, Egil, the scribe said. I do not feel well.


    We have oatcakes, his apprentice mentioned. Some cherries too, and raspberries.


    That sounds delightful, Quill admitted, taking a deep breath. But I think the crowds will be a bit too much for me.


    Kate appeared in the doorframe. We could just stay here. Food tastes the same whether we eat it here or there.


    Thats a good idea, Egil added. Well just eat over by the table.


    Quill looked at them both. Finally, he got up. I suppose thats fine with me.


    They moved to sit at the table, and Kate arranged the food she had brought with her from the kitchen. Just take anything you would like, master, Kate told him.


    Egil cleared his throat. Kate, didnt you tell me you wanted to start reading this book? He grabbed one thaty on the table and held it towards her.


    Do not touch the books if you are eating, Quill admonished them.


    I didnt  Kate cut her sentence short as she caught Egils facial expressions, encouraging her. Right. She got up and moved away from the food on the table, opening on the first page. Taking a deep breath, she began to read aloud.


    With Kates attention on the book and Egils attention on her, Quill slowly reached out with bent fingers to pick up a berry. His hold on it shook a little, but neither of the children seemed to notice him; with a quick motion, he managed to reach his mouth with his fingers, feeding himself. With a satisfied expression, though he kept his eyes away from Quill, Egil took hold of an oatcake and began eating.


    ~~~~


    At the Arnling estate, it took the Hawks more than an hour to clear out. Brands men set to work as soon as they could, making the house ready for a celebration. It turned out that Henry, the old steward, was still present; the Hawks had kept him to act as their servant. Now, he was allowed to return to his former role if only for a short while. Directing their efforts, Henry had the dining hall cleaned and prepared for guests.


    It was this sight that met Arndis when she arrived at her home, apanied by Eleanor, their handmaidens, and ukos. I will find the captain, thetter promised, disappearing deeper into the house.


    I have never been to your house, Eleanor remarked. I scarcely knew you had one.


    I lived here all my life untilst year when we came to court, Arndis rted.


    Did you never consider leaving the Citadel ande back here? There must have been times that you felt unsafe in the castle, I imagine.


    I suppose, Arndis contemted. But the thought never entered my mind. She let her nce move over the entrance hall. This ce was slowly suffocating me. I will never live under such confining circumstances again.


    Arndis! eximed a voice. As she recognised its owner, thedy broke into a smile. Soon after, she was embraced tightly by powerful arms.


    I am so happy to see you, she whispered to her brother.


    No more than I am upon seeing you, Brand imed. He let the embrace linger before finally pulling back. And you do note alone.


    You remember my friend, Eleanor.


    Of course. Brand gave a small bow.


    Lord Adalbrand. She returned his courtesy.


    I believe I told you to call me Brand. He smiled before gesturing to their handmaidens. Be at ease. Your mistresses are well attended. Go as you please and enjoy the evening. They did as he bade them, one with a shy smile and the other with a bashful face. Brand meanwhile took Arndis and Eleanor under one arm each. Come! There are some who will be happy to see you, and others I am anxious you should meet.


    Brother, what of everything that has transpired? How did you escape Middanhal, and where have you been all these weeks? Howe you have returned? Arndis enquired with an anxious voice.


    Brandughed. All in good time. There will be asion to tell you everything tonight. We shall have a feast with a meal fit for my band of heroes. Troy shall y his songs, and I suspect the whiterobes will be making merriment as well.


    Whiterobes? questioned Eleanor. Lord Adalbrand, what is this band you travel with?


    You shall see, he smiled. First, Sister, you should meet Gwen. As he called her name, the hignder turned and approached them.


    This is her, I reckon, Gwen uttered.


    It is. Arndis, this is Gwen, our kinswoman from Mothers n, Brand introduced her.


    They gazed at each other. Arndis was dressed exquisitely with a tasteful selection of jewellery to emphasise her natural beauty; Gwen was wearing armour, her sword hung by her side, and her hair was cut sensibly short.


    Arndis broke into a smile. What a lovely surprise! she eximed. She reached out to sp Gwens hands. I had no idea any of Mothers family remained. We wrote to Heohlond but received only disheartening news.


    I was away, Gwen mumbled, looking down to see Arndis slender hands grasp her own. Now Ivee here instead.


    Splendid idea, Arndis smiled. You must sit with us and tell us everything about Mothers family while we eat.


    If you wish, Gwen muttered.


    Tonight will be the best solstice celebration this house has known, Brand dered. His men yelled their agreement from the different rooms of the building.


    ~~~~


    It waste afternoon when Jorund returned to the dvalinns hall. He was dressed as before, though he had added silver rings to his hair, keeping it neat. Pulled back in a tight ponytail, his missing left ear was starkly visible. It drew some stares, but as most he met were Dwarves, all viewed him with sympathy; stories of brigands stealing earrings from Dwarves were amon way for mothers to make their children behave.


    The doorman let Jorund in without a word, taking his cloak and beckoning for him to enter and join the other Dwarves already busy in conversation. The feast hall itself was ready; banners depicting the many houses of the Dwarves hung on all the walls. Jorund stepped up to one that showed an axe wreathed in mes.


    House Fireaxe, spoke the dvalinn, who had stepped up to stand next to Jorund.


    My lord dvalinn. Jorund greeted him with a small bow.


    Your house? asked the lord, nodding towards the banner.


    Indeed. Though I am not of the dvalinns lineage if that was what you meant, Jorund rified.


    It does not matter. Tonight, we are all one house, the dvalinn dered graciously. Come, take your seat by my side, and tell us of our kindred in Dvaros.


    Jorund did as bid, and soon after, food and drink were served in copious amounts. Seated at the dvalinns right hand, the neer had a ce of honour; opposite him at the dvalinns left hand sat thetters advisor. What was your name, stranger? asked the dvalinns counsellor.


    Jorund of Dvaros, at the service of your house. To whom do I speak?


    I am Ragni, born in Middanhal, where I have lived all my life, he spoke pointedly. I count the first dvalinn of House Starkstone among my ancestors. He gestured towards the banner that hung behind the present dvalinns chair, depicting a tower. But you have not only left Dvaros, Ragni continued. You have ventured far and abroad. His words were not spoken inpliment.


    Dvaros is a great city, Jorund replied, pouring leek soup into his bowl. Especially for any of our people with a hankering towards stonework. But as with anywhere else,cency lurks on its streets, sinking its hooks into any Dwarf. I am but forty years old, yet I have more deeds to my name than any of my kinsmen who remained behind.


    Deeds performed for the sake of Men, Ragni added with a scoff.


    Tonight, we will sing, Jorund began to speak. All over the Realms, our people will leave their home, singing of what was lost and what we hope to regain. He stared at the counsellor. Staying indoors means you will miss the celebration.


    Peace, dered the dvalinn, who hitherto had been helping himself to the many courses. Eat, my fellows! The day is waning. Flush your throats with ale and wine, hemanded with a jolly expression. Soon, the song shall begin.


    ~~~~


    Godfreyy on his back atop the highest tower in the Citadel, staring up at the sky. Despite guards constantly patrolling, he remained undetected. As the sun set, the first stars began appearing. How fortunate you are, he muttered. Regardless of what happens here, you remain far removed. Sometimes, he admitted, I long to be like you. Other times, I know I could never ept such a lot.


    In the distance, singing reached his ears. With sunset, the Dwarves had begun their song. Slowly they moved out from their houses, joining each other on the street to let their singing entwine. They sang of loss with deep voices, enough to stir the heart to sorrow; they sang of hope with rising voices, enough to spur the spirit to joy. Godfrey stood up, looking over the edge to see them in the distance. Next solstice, the Dwarves sang, they would be home.


    You and me both, I hope, Godfrey whispered.

 Chapter 120: Kingmaker

    Chapter 120: Kingmaker


    Next morning, Brand went to the Citadel, apanied by his sister and a few protectors. Not only the guards stared; so did all the nobility with their retinue, arriving to participate in the Adalthing as well. Brand paid them no heed but strode inside and located Theodorics quarters. The jarl greeted them with a strained smile. I have done my best, he dered. Holwyn was present as well, standing withdrawn. She exchanged looks with Arndis, but neither spoke.


    What are my chances? asked Brand bluntly.


    You have mine and Valerians voices, Theodoric considered. Many of the southernndgraves will follow him out of habit. I have spoken to everyone that I thought might be doubtful or susceptible to Ingmonds influence.


    He is actively working against me?


    He will not rest until you are dead, I imagine. Fortunately, Theodoric continued, he does not have nearly the pull that Valerian does. I am hoping thatbined with my efforts, enough will have joined our side.


    Brand gave a nod. Very well. Let us to it.


    They began walking towards the chamber of the Adalthing. Brand, Arndis spoke as she put her arm in his, what will you do if your sentence is not lifted?


    I will have to leave Adalrik. Brand exhaled slowly. I think I know what lies ahead of me, but the decision is not easy.


    Are you sure Lord Konstans will honour his word? What if this was a trap to lure you into his grasp? asked Arndis worried.


    He signed a written promise and sealed it. It is as good asw, Brand reassured her. It is toote to alter course regardless. My only concern in this moment is for you, and what will happen if I am made an ouw once more.


    You need not worry. I have coin hidden away and friends to aid me, Arndis reassured him. I can take care of myself.


    I am d that is the case for at least one of us. I will see you after the assembly, he added as they had to part ways; Arndis went to the balcony reserved for spectators, while Brand followed Theodoric into the hall itself.


    Slowly, the chamber filled with people. Noblemen and their attendants, the priestess of Disfara for the ritual, and finally Quill. When thetter saw Brand, he lit up in a smile, but he kept some distance between them and his hands inside his sleeves. I am relieved you are unharmed, thew keeper rted.


    Not as much as I am, Brand jested. I am pleased to see you back in your rightful ce. I was told of what happened.


    Just some temporary difort, Quill imed, coughing slightly. No matter what happens today, Brand, I am d I got to see you again.


    As am I.


    As thest to appear, Prince Inghard entered to sit upon the throne; Konstans walked right behind him and took up position by his side. Quill, meanwhile, moved to stand near the middle of the hall and begin the ceremony to open the Adalthing.


    Once the rites had been observed, the dragonlord stepped forward to speak. Once again, we meet to discuss matters of the realm and seek peaceful resolution to issues that could otherwise lead to strife. This chamber is the greatest safeguard to the stability and protection of Adalrik, he dered, and a symbol of our unity.


    Hear, hear! Many of the noblemen, especially from the southern part, let their agreement be known.


    In that spirit, I am honoured to announce the betrothal between my son, Konstantine of Vale, and thedy Gunhild of House Hardling. Further apuse filled the hall.


    And so the noose is tightened, Theodoric muttered under his breath.


    We begin with a matter debated at thest Adalthing, Konstans continued. Adalbrand of House Arnling was deemed guilty of high treason and condemned to death. You all know what happened, so I see no reason to dwell on it. A few in the crowd dared to smile at this. The jarl of Theodstan hase before this assembly to request clemency on behalf of the condemned. I will let the jarl speak.


    Theodoric stepped forward from the cluster of his margraves. Thank you, Lord Konstans. It is my firm belief that Lord Adalbrand does not deserve death nor exile. Last year, I crossed the Weolcan Mountains by his side. I fought with him at the battle of Bradon. After this, he went to fight the ounders on behalf of the Order, driving them from Tothmor and Polisals. My lords, do we reward such service with death? How can we ask our knights to fight for us and for Adalmearc?


    Theodoric let his gaze move over the crowd. Not only our realm, but all the Seven Realms depend on the Order for peace and protection. Lord Adalbrand is the greatestmander to emerge in our lifetime, and we have need of knights like him more than ever! Enemies threaten from beyond and within, and we throw our greatest weapon away? History will judge us, my lords, and judge us poorly. Finished, he turned to give a bow to the prince and stepped back.


    I will speak! demanded Ingmond. The jarl had been alternating his stare between Brand and Theodoric during thetters speech.


    Of course, Konstans granted, gesturing towards the space in the middle containing the statue of Disfara.


    This oath breaker has been stripped of rank, Ingmond spoke venomously. His sword has been broken. Only the intervention of other despicable oath breakers saved him from the scaffold. All of Middanhal saw this traitor escape his just punishment, and we are to reward this? We are to show every knight in service to the Order that oath breakers can be forgiven, and adherence to the Codex is merely a jest? the jarl sneered. There is a doom, not upon this disgraced knight but upon this realm, he imed with a loud voice. Its name is divine vengeance, and it hangs over our heads until we rectify this injustice! Only the traitors blood may wash it away.


    Theodoric stepped forward quickly. I grant you that blood is of importance. Lord Adalbrand shares the same ancestor as the man we would elevate to the highest seat in Adalmearc. He nced at the young Inghard. Executing the dragonborn, spilling the blood of Sigvard in a public square undermines the very fabric of our realm.


    To Hel with Sigvards blood! yelled Ingmond, receiving shocked and outraged looks from most others.


    Enough, Konstans dered. You have both been allowed to speak. We should continue with the counting, he proimed, looking at Quill.


    I should like to speak. Brand stepped forward, causing murmur among the crowd.


    By all means, Konstans assented with a superior smile. I am eager to hear.


    My lords, Brand spoke in a clear voice. My prince, he continued, inclining his head towards Inghard. My friends, he added, ncing at Quill and towards the balcony at his sister and those few of his men present. I havemitted errors of judgement in the past. I will not deny it. But it is the future, not the past, that brings me before you today. The ounders have raised the siege of Lakon, as I assume most of you know. They are not petty raiders or simply organised brigands. They are an army, bent on conquest. Less than half a year ago, all of Hthiod was under their control. We drove them back, but now they have returned.


    Brand paused, letting his words sink in. Do not presume that they will settle for Hthiod. The armies that the Order faces are too numerous. Korndale will be next, or Ingmond. He looked at the jarl, who stared back fiercely. After Ingmond, all of southern Adalrik lies open. One day, my lords, they will stand before the gates of Middanhal. He took a deep breath and walked up to the statue of Disfara, cing his hand on the hem of the goddess dress. Restore my freedom and my rank, my lords, and I swear to you that I shall drive the ounders from Adalmearc. I will pursue them into the Reach. I will end this threat once and for all, as a knight of Adal fighting for Adal.


    Some of the lords reacted with silence, some with whispers, and a few with open disdain. Very well, Konstans dered. It is time we let our voices be heard. Master Quill.


    Thew keeper nodded and took position. My lords, you have been asked whether the Adalthing should grant clemency to Adalbrand of House Arnling, lifting the death sentence upon him. Thirty-five voices must speak in his favour. Lord Raymond, how do you speak?


    The jarl strode forward. I speak against mercy of any kind, he growled. His margraves followed him.


    Lord Valerian?


    The jarl of Vale took his ce by the statue. I speak in favour of the condemned, Valerian dered.


    That is seventeen votes, Arndis whispered anxiously to Eleanor.


    Lord Theodoric?


    I am in favour of clemency.


    Twenty-five, Eleanor counted. Only ten more are needed.


    One by one, Quill addressed the remaining members. One by one, they walked forward to touch the statue of Disfara and let their voice be known.


    I am against clemency.


    I speak against.


    I hold with the original verdict.


    Let his sentence be carried out.


    No mercy for traitors.


    I stand against him.


    Let the oath breaker die.


    Only a few of the noblemen spoke against their peers. When thest had spoken, Quill cleared his throat. The Adalthing does not speak with one voice. The request to pardon Adalbrand of House Arnling is rejected. His hands shook slightly, and he hid them again inside his sleeves again.


    Konstans moved forward. We must obey the will of the Adalthing. Even so, I have heard Jarl Theodstans words that the public execution of a kinsman to our prince, however remote their kinship, would be an ill sign. Therefore, I ameliorate the sentence upon the condemned from death to exile. Let him depart from our realm and cause no further disturbance. After this magnanimous deration, Konstans sent Brand a condescending smile.


    Some nodded in agreement with this while others were dissatisfied; as for Brand, he broke from the crowd. So be it, he spoke. Regardless, I shall do as I have dered. With or without you, I will see Hthiod free and the Reach burn. By the Seven and Eighth, I swear it. Walking tall, he strode out of the hall.


    ~~~~


    While the Adalthing continued discussing other matters, Brand walked with a furious pace through the hallways. He pushed a door open and strode onto the parapet, breathing heavily of the fresh air. The city spread before his gaze, but he paid it little heed, staring upwards at the sky. There was a faint touch of rain falling.


    I am sorry. You deserved better. Behind Brand, Godfrey approached.


    Still staring ahead, Brand exhaled and ced his hands on the crions in front of him. I knew to expect this. Still, somehow I thought that they would see reason. That all I had done would yield some manner of good will towards me.


    Godfrey walked up to stand beside him. Children are born on the streets of almost every city I have been to. Their lives are gone before they ever had the chance to do anything to deserve such a fate. He gave a mirthless smile. In a grim twist of irony, the only cities where such would not happen are those under the rule of the Godking.


    The Godking, Brand repeated. I have marched against him before, butst I had the Order and an army. Now, I have nothing.


    You are not alone in this, Godfrey told him. You have more friends than you realise.


    Not in Middanhal.


    Godfrey cleared his throat. I heard you assembled an army of hignders and brought them to Adalrik. I imagine your intention was to defeat those usurping power in Middanhal. Exactly like Arn did.


    I confess that is the truth.


    Godfrey turned his head to look at Brand. But Sigvard took up arms against the ounders. It was him who led your people to victory in the Great War.


    Brand returned his gaze. I never knew it was the ounders that Sigvard fought.


    Godfrey gave a slow nod. Of your two illustrious ancestors, it is not Arn but Sigvard that I see in you.


    Brand let out a deep breath. ttery, he spoke in usation.


    Godfrey allowed a wry smile to show. Whatever it takes.


    It is not needed. I already dered my intentions, and I will not retreat. Brand straightened his back. To Hthiod once more, and the Reach beyond.


    Do not be discouraged, hispanion added. The path may look the same, but you tread upon it a new man.


    I prefer how it wasst year, the young man said with a joyless smile, when I had an army.


    You will assemble another. One that follows you, not your rank, Godfrey pointed out.


    Let us hope it is enough.


    ~~~~


    Leaving the walls, Brand went to his sisters quarters at the Citadel. He found her together with Geberic. There you are, milord, thetter eximed relieved. ukos went after you, but I just realise that he doesnt know the castle. Hes probably lost somewhere in the dungeons by now.


    Brand, Arndis spoke gently, are you well?


    Yes. I need to tell my men. And Gwen. They should have a few days to prepare if they wish to follow me to the Reach.


    You intend to go through with this? his sister asked.


    I do. I am exiled from Adalrik, Brand reminded her. I cannot stay here. But in Hthiod and beyond, there is much I can aplish.


    Very well. I have matters to attend to as well before you leave, Arndis dered. I wille by the house tonight, and we may dine together.


    As you wish, Brand acquiesced, looking a touch confused. His sister gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and left the room. Do you know where she is going? he asked Geberic.


    The man-at-arms shrugged. Youre asking a man of my age, who has never been married, what goes on inside the mind of a woman? Might as well ask a harlot whats it like to be a norn.


    Let us find ukos and be on our way, Brand dered. Before he set into motion, he turned to look at hispanion. Geberic, you were a sworn thane to the jarl of Theodstan.


    Now thats something I am familiar with, the greybeard snorted.


    Why did you leave his service? Brand stared at him. Asking to be released from your vow, it cannot have been easy.


    The hardest thing Ive ever done, probably, Geberic confessed. I saw you, milord, when we crossed the mountains, when we fought at Bradon and at Cudrican. I saw youmand.


    That was it?


    How could I go back to serving a jarl after knowing how it is to serve a king?


    Brand gave a faint smile. Let us go. We are pressed for time.


    ~~~~


    When the Adalthing finally concluded, Theodoric retreated to his quarters, dismissing his attendants; only Holwyn remained. Not what we hoped for, she remarked.


    It was a fools errand. I should have known Konstans would not have allowed it. Even worse, he made me waste my time negotiating with thendgraves and made me pay for the privilege, Theodoric eximed bitterly.


    You think that was simply his goal? To increase your yearly payment for his protection? Holwyn asked.


    I think he saw a quick opportunity to strengthen his position and weaken mine. If I pay those extra gold crowns to him, I cannot spend them on defending Theodstan.


    Hoarding gold sounds more like his brother, but I see your reasoning.


    Valerian has be as much a pawn as any of us. Did you hear Konstans announcement?


    Concerning his son and Lady Gunhild?


    Theodoric nodded. His grandchildren will be dragonborn. Something that none of our previous kings would ever have allowed. Not to mention, two princes are dead, and the third is fastened to strings pulled by Konstans. He is the kingmaker of this realm, make no mistake.


    What will we do?


    The jarl took a deep breath and exhaled. We will return to Theodstan and ride this storm out. This war that engulfs us, all this strife, it is far from over.

 Chapter 121: What the Future Holds

    Chapter 121: What the Future Holds


    The day after the Adalthing, Nichs was in Lowtown. He was wearing the finest clothes that he could get hold of on short notice. The sleeves were a bit too long, and the weave was slightly tattered in ces; other than that, he looked grander than he ever had before in his life. By his side stood Ellen, wearing her mothers best dress. They were in the yard of her fathers tavern; the man himself stood behind, sniffing and wiping his eyes. Quentin and a few others from Brands followers stood scattered along with some neighbours to act as witnesses, though the locals kept their distance from Nichs armed friends; a couple of hens, a cow, and a pig were also watching with disinterest. Lastly, a geolrobe was present, conducting the ceremony.


    As these threads are entwined, so your lives be one. Stronger together than apart, the priest proimed, tying the strings around the couples wrists together.


    I cant believe it, Quentin mumbled. Nichs, a married man.


    I cannot believe he wanted us present, ukos remarked.


    Me, its obvious. Im his best mate. As for you, its because youre one of the few other heathmen in ourpany. Dont tter yourself, Quentin said pointedly.


    ukos looked around the small yard in which the wedding was taking ce between haystacks and animal pens. I would never dare to presume.


    Congrattions! shouted the father of the bride, making the Hthians turn their attention back on the couple. The ceremony was over, and Nichs and Ellen had turned around to receive the felicitations of their guests.


    Thank you, Master Gilbert, Nichs smiled, as his father-inw shook his hand vigorously.


    You look just like your ma, sniffed the tavern keeper, embracing his daughter afterwards.


    The boys and I scraped some coin together for this, Quentin mumbled. He held an elongated item in his hands, wrapped in cloth. With ukos help, the fabric was removed to reveal a statuette of Austre. It was exquisitely carved in wood and depicted her wearing a green dress while pulling back her bowstring with an arrow at the ready. We figured shed be happy to keep an archer like you safe. And itll remind Ellen of you until youre home, he exined awkwardly, looking away.


    Its marvellous, Nichs dered with an admiring voice while Ellen nted kisses on their cheeks.


    Youre wee, Quentin muttered.


    Brother Caradoc offered to make one, ukos added, but we had a feeling Austre would end up a lot more muscr and wielding a hammer instead of a bow.


    ukos made a jest, and we havent even served the ale yet! Nichs eximed in wonder.


    Time to remedy that! Pa, our guests are thirsty! Ellen called to her father.


    At once, at once! Soon, food and drink were served, and the celebration continued throughout the day.


    ~~~~


    The day before Brands departure, his sister went to their family home once again. She found his band busy with their preparations, though all had time to stop and greet her courteously. Do not let me interrupt. I simply seek my brother, she told them.


    He is in the library, mdy, a thane pointed out.


    Much obliged. She sent the soldier a smile and continued inwards into the house.


    The library at the estate of House Arnling was mostly called so out of tradition. Its shelves were empty, as over the years, the books had been sold. Brand stood in the middle of the room; at the sound of footfall, he turned. Sister, he smiled.


    What are you doing here?


    Just curious. I might never see this ce again, Brand exined, ncing around. It was never home to me for long, but I feel reluctance to leave nheless.


    You will see it again, Arndis promised him. It will be here when you get back.


    He reached out to touch her shoulder affectionately. You always tend to be right.


    She untied a small bag by her belt. Until then, you will have need of this.


    Coin? Arndis, you should keep your silver. You will have plenty of need for it.


    It is not silver.


    With a doubtful face, Brand took the bag. Pouring some of its content into his hand, his expression turned to amazement upon seeing gold. Arndis, there is a small fortune in crowns here!


    I know. I put it there myself, she remarked.


    How?


    I invested the spoils of your victories over Isarn. The same after the battles in Hthiod, though those investments are still tied up in goods. Also, I have retained a small sum, Arndis borated. While the civil war drags on, tin prices will plummet. I intend to buy as much as I can when prices are lowest. Once Isarn has been defeated and trade to Vidrevi is re-established, our coin should have doubled many times over.


    Brand stared at her impressed. I was going to ask if you wanted to join me in Hthiod. I am sure the queen will wee you at her court along with Eleanor, but I see now that would be a waste of your gifts.


    My business affairs necessitate that I am in Middanhal, but I appreciate your thought, she told him. She nodded towards the gold in his hands. I realise it is limited how many soldiers this can equip, but in time, I can send more. She closed his hands around the coins. Use it, Brand. Prove them all wrong. Let them know that House Arnling still stands tall.


    I will. If it kills me, by the Seven and Eighth, I will.


    Good. Though do try to stay alive. I prefer you that way.


    He gave a faint smile. I will do my best.


    ~~~~


    Konstans sat in the dragonlords study, watching a Red Hawk pacing around the room. I wasnt warned that the jarl was a madman, Jeromeined. He had been in hiding ever since returning from Isarns camp. He cut down the prince without a second thought, right in front of my eyes!


    Youin a lot for a man who not only escaped unharmed, but also made a sizeable amount of coin, Konstans remarked. On the desk between themy a small bag with a handful of gold crowns inside. You did not even have to touch the prince yourself, Isenhart did the task for you. Easiest coin you have ever made. He motioned towards the gold.


    Jerome finally stopped, eyeing the bag. I suppose. Just as well. The other Hawks dont trust me anymore. They think I was off on some pleasant journey while they were fighting, and I cant tell them the truth now, can I.


    No, Konstans replied pointedly. You cannot.


    At least this is enough to get me started somewhere else. Jerome grabbed the bag and tied it to his belt.


    What if I had another task for you? One that pays double of what you just received.


    Jerome hesitated. Gold is no use to a dead man.


    With what you have, you can lead afortable existence, I am sure. But with three times the amount of coin, Konstans argued, you will have servants, fine clothes, and all your desires. I will even have my brother elevate you to the rank of beorn.


    Thats possible? Jerome frowned.


    For the lord protector? Of course.


    Jerome swallowed. Whats the task?


    You know of Adalbrand? The disgraced knight.


    Ive heard of him.


    He is going on a campaign in Hthiod. Even the Reach, he ims, Konstans exined with contempt.


    And hes a problem for your lordship?


    He is. Thankfully, war is dangerous. I do not want there to be any possibility that he ever returns to Adalrik.


    Jerome licked his lips. And when Ie back with the news that he never will?


    The gold is yours.


    It shall be done, Jerome promised. He gave a short bow and left.


    From a neighbouring room, Konstans wife appeared. Let us hope this finally settles the question of this upstart crow, she sneered. He has been a thorn in our side for too long.


    I doubt the name Adalbrand will trouble us further, her husband spoke calmly.


    All this could have been avoided if you had not granted him safe passage, Mathilde reproached him. Why would you do such a thing?


    It secured our alliance with Theodstan. We needed allies, Konstans exined. We lost our strongest ally when Duke Belvoir died, and thanks to the rebellion by his son, the Order will not be receiving any reinforcements from Ealond either. Not to mention, Adalbrand was under Theodorics protection. Had I refused, the little worm would have slunk back to Heohlond in hiding. This smoked him out. We know where he is going, and now, we also know he will not be returning.


    I suppose, Mathilde relented. The sooner it is done, the better. If he wins any more victories, he will only be a greater danger to us.


    I doubt he will have any sess, Konstans remarked dismissively. The Order army will not follow a disgraced knight, and there is enmity between him and Prince vius, meaning that the soldiers of Korndale will not follow him either. Adalbrand is little more than a brigand with a band of ouws.


    Very well. As for the other matter you asked me about, Mathilde continued. I will have to return to Valcaster.


    You cannot ask any of the sibyls here?


    She gave an overbearing smile. They are not fond of remedies to ensure only sons are conceived. Being all women, I suppose they feel threatened.


    I thought it was a sibyl in Valcaster who gave you that same remedy before you became pregnant with Konstantine.


    She shook her head. No, just a wise woman that one of my handmaidens knew. I will have to consult the same woman. If she is still alive after all these years.


    Very well. You should go soon, so you will be back in time for the wedding.


    I will. And once Konstantine has a son with the Hardling girl, Mathilde considered, what do we do with Inghard?


    Nothing for now. Our position is precarious as it is. Let a few years pass without murder, he snorted. Once Konstantine and Gunhild has a son, and we are sure the boy is strong and healthy, we can consider removing Inghard. Sigvards dynasty has ruled for a thousand years  I will make certain oursst for ten thousand, he swore.


    His wife smiled, bowing down to kiss him. Have I mentioned how handsome you are?


    Power does that to a man, he replied, throwing his arms around her to return the kiss forcefully.


    ~~~~


    The next morning heralded the day of departure for Brand and those choosing to follow him. As the rumours spread, volunteers had showed up to join his campaign, swelling his numbers to at least double. The final addition came just as Brands column was about to leave the Arnling estate; several carts loaded with supplies and equipment drove up, guarded by Order soldiers and led by a knight.


    Sir Fionn! Brand eximed as the knight dismounted. They sped each others arm.


    Still in time, I see, the warrior replied with a grin. Ie with the blessings of both Captain Theobald and the quartermaster, he exined. They both want to see the war in Hthiode to a sessful conclusion.


    I never had a chance before to thank you, Brand told him earnestly. You took a risk that night at the walls, seeing me to safety. I owe you.


    Nonsense. One knight protects another, Fionn spoke gruffly. Now you can win this war, Sir Adalbrand, and I will be happy to help.


    I am d to hear it. Brand turned to look over his shoulder. Geberic, make sure these carts find a ce in our train. He raised his voice. We are moving out!


    Aye, captain! You heard him, move! Slowly, the cortege set into motion.


    ~~~~


    Returning from market, Egil entered the library and ced his purchases on the table; most of it was food of different kinds along with a wineskin. Master Quill, I am back, he called out.


    Good, good, the scribe responded. Will you pour a cup for me? I feel a little uneasy.


    Of course, master, Egil replied, doing as he was bid.


    Quill took a deep draught. Much better, he sighed. Boy, I forgot, he continued. I have not added the decisions of the Adalthing to the annals.


    You told me yesterday. I prepared the book, Egil exined, pointing towards the scriptorium.


    Good. You are a goodd, Egil, Quill told him. I just need to rest, and I will take care of it. With a hand that slightly shook, the librarian put the cup away and went to his room.


    Egil watched him leave. Once the chamber door closed, the apprentice went to the scriptorium. By one of the writing desks, an enormous tomey open. One page was already filled with letters while the other was nk. Egil moved over to sit down in front of the book. Grabbing the nearby feather pen, he dipped it in ink and let any superfluous fluid drain away. Taking a deep breath, he ced the tip against the empty page and began writing.

 Chapter 122: City of Coin

    Chapter 122: City of Coin


    Alczar had many names. In thenguage of its own people, it was the Fortress. The poets called it the jewel of the Inner and Outer Seas. To the merchants, it was the City of Coin. For the ships leaving Herbergja to cross the Storvik, traverse Drake Run, pass around the Fortnn, and sail for weeks on open waters on the Outer Sea, Alczar was most of all a relieved sigh at the sight of safe harbour.


    Alczar rested upon red cliffs that jutted into the waters like the prow of a ship, guarding the precarious passage between the Outer and Inner Seas, much the same manner that Middanhal did between the peaks of the Weolcan Mountains. A ship arriving from the west would see its walls rise along the cliffs, near impossible to assault. The western docks were thergest and busiest; upon approach, such a ship would have to lower its sails and ease its way into the harbour among the many other vessels.


    With trade between Herbergja and Alczar unmatched, scores of inder ships arrived each day. The shipments in their holds and the silver coins in their purses were vital to the lifeblood of the city; the former supplied countless necessary materials that could not be found so abundantly nearby, and thetter ensured enough coin in cirction to keep trade flowing freely.


    As soon as a ship moored by one of the piers, daybourers and ves scurried aboard to begin unloading crates, jars, barrels, and so forth. The captain would speak with one of the harbourmasters aides, paying the mooring fee and providing all relevant information. The sailors meanwhile would attend to any final tasks before they could be given leave.


    One ship, named Disfaras Eye, unloaded more than goods as it anchored in Alczar. Once the ship was safely fastened, a passenger disembarked with speed, carrying only a heavy bundle slung over his back. He blinked a few times against the sharp sun, ncing around. In every direction but the one behind him rose the cliffs and buildings of Alczar, and there was a mour of voices speaking either Nordspeech, Suthspeech, or a mixture of both.


    Everything good, Master Garrick? The captain of the ship approached his passenger after his business with the harbourmasters aide had concluded.


    It is, captain. Thanks for a smooth journey, Garrick told him.


    Spring is a pleasant season for sailing, replied the experienced sailor. Id advise you to keep your wits about you, he added. The docks in any city tend to draw unsavoury people, and more so in Alczar than anywhere else.


    I wont be hanging around, Garrick exined. I have a letter for the ckrobes living here. Do you know the way to their temple?


    Its little more than a shrine, but aye, I do. Follow the big street into the city, the captain pointed, until you reach the maswar.


    The what?


    Its a big, open square, you cant miss it. The shrines a little north of there. The streets around the maswar are like a maze, mind you. Youll need to ask directions again once you get there, or if you got a copper, pay an urchin to take you. Keep a grip on your purse if you do, the captain grinned, because those little bastards got more tricks for stealing coin than a ships got rats.


    Appreciate the advice, Garrick said along with a farewell gesture. Keeping one hand on his sword hilt and the other on his belt, near his purse, he walked towards the bustling streets of Alczar.


    ~~~~


    In the southern neighbourhoodsy plenty of public houses, some less reputable than others. The most ill reputed of all was the Broken Tooth. It had expanded over the years, taking over the adjacent buildings until its size resembled a guildhall rather than a tavern. This was not by coincidence, as it served as the home for the ck Teeth, the gang of criminals that ruled the underworld of Alczar.


    The resulting architectural monstrosity resembled a maze when it came to the basement or the upper floors. There was nary a straight corridor, and roomsy scattered in ways that contradicted intuition. This was all on purpose, to fool the unwary and trick the stranger. Operating outside the confines of thew meant that the ck Teeth were a distrustful lot. The only area resembling normalcy was the ground floor, which had one giant space apart from the attached kitchens. Numerous tables stood spread around the room, allowing for several scores of patrons to consume their spirits along with the tea that was a customary evening treat in Alczar. One end of the space was elevated, separating it from themon area, and furnished with soft couches andrge pillows; when she deigned to show her presence, the queen of the thieves held court upon this perch, surrounded by a few henchmen and attendants.


    Despite it being only noon, the ce had plenty of patrons already. Some of them lived in thepound or had dealings with those that did. Being apany of rogues, many were also busy bragging about the fruits ofst nightsbour.


    I tell you, the old merchant had coins stashed in every conceivable ce. In the drawers, between the ledgers on his shelves, even underneath his chamber pot! I pulled out birds and coppers from every crack, one thief rted.


    I think youre pulling your stories out of a certain crack, another jeered. He was thin to the point of being gaunt and had long, sinewy arms. A few scars ran across his hollow cheeks.


    Youre the one always full of it, came the counter. How long have you been talking about Dr al-Imra? I dont see your hands full of silver.


    Funny you should say that


    Disbelief burst from several of the rogues. Dont even try! You didnt!


    One of them turned towards arge fellow, hitherto silent. Walid, tell us it aint true. The aforementioned hulk of a man simply shrugged.


    Come on, then, another said, directing attention back towards the sinewy thief. What was inside the lockbox?


    What box? asked a neer to the conversation.


    Several groaned. Now youve done it.


    Have you never been here before? Tahmids told that story from apple to tree at least three times.


    Ive heard it four.


    But never with this ending, Tahmid interjected. So if you wouldnt mind shutting your teeth holes, Id like to tell it in full.


    Go on, then.


    Youve all heard the boasts made by al-Hadid, I assume, Tahmid began.


    Whos he?


    A lock maker, another listener exined.


    The best lock maker in town, Tahmid corrected. He imed to have made a lockbox for the master of Dr al-Imra that could not be picked. Not even by yours truly, Tahmid, the best thief in Alczar.


    He mentioned you by name? The question was asked with incredulity.


    If he knew about me, he would have, came the reply. Naturally, the master of Dr al-Imra would put his most precious belongings inside this impregnable lock and keep it in his innermost sanctuary.


    Bloody Tahmids a storyteller now, someone snorted.


    Given that Dr al-Imra trains the mamluks of even the Kabir himself, it is to be expected that their pce is tighter than a chickens arse. Guards everywhere, from the outer grounds and every step towards the masters bedroom deep inside the harmlik itself. But where others see the impossible, I see a challenge, Tahmid smiled.


    Well, I hear a windbag.


    Last night, I went inside Dr al-Imra.


    The other thieves looked at him with surprise, incredulity, or both. Really?


    Tahmid raised one hand. I swear by t. Got over the wall and inched my way forward. Damn mamluks were swarming the ce. It took me an hour just to cross the grounds.


    Where did you go?


    Into the harmlik, of course, Tahmid replied overbearingly. He was leaning back in his seat, smiling at the undivided attention sent his way. Took me another two hours. Finally, I reached my prize. With al-Musharaf sleeping in the bed next to it, I saw the loveliest little chest, made entirely from steel. It glittered in the faint moonlight.


    What then?


    I stepped up to examine the lock. Ill tell you boys, it was the most intricate thing Ive ever seen. It would make your little necks turn and snap trying to figure it out. I put in my picks to rummage around a little, and it was unlike any other lock Ive ever tried. Tahmid stared around the table, keeping them in suspense. I realised that even I, the best lock pick in Alczar and possibly the entire Inner Sea, would need hours to figure it out.


    The thieves returned his gaze with bated breath. So what did you do?


    Tahmids lip curled into a superior smile. I picked up the lockbox and took it with me!


    Laughter erupted around the table. Must have been a heavy haul.


    Enough to make Haktar sweat, the thief swore. Took me hours and hours to get out undetected and haul that thing all the way back here.


    Did you get it open?


    Tahmid grinned. Would you like to see it?


    Yes!


    Walid, get it from my room. By his side, the brute turned to nce at him with disapproval. Come on, Im sick to my stomach of carrying it. Just get it, you big oaf. Walid chewed on his lips but remained silent, leaving to do as bid.


    Did you get it open? someone asked.


    Good old master al-Hadid has outdone himself, Tahmid admitted. When I got it back here and had both time and peace to study it, I still found the lock impossible! The tumblers seemed in a different ce each time I pricked them with my picks.


    Maybe someone should pay al-Hadid a visit, one of the thieves mumbled.


    I tried the hook picks and the half-diamond picks. I pulled out the cleaver, the cats tail, the four-fingered monkey, Tahmid enumerated.


    Get to the point. How did you get it open?


    Tahmid gave a sly smile. Wheres the fun in telling you? I have a better idea.


    Walid returned, carrying a steel box in his arms; while clearly heavy, Walid did not seem burdened in the slightest. He ced the object on the table, which croaked slightly under the weight. Several hands pulled the lid open to peer inside. Its empty! eximed one of the thieves with obvious disappointment.


    I wasnt going to leave the spoils inside for anyone to see, Tahmid replied irritated. But youve all seen that I opened it, despite al-Hadids boast. Ill wager a hundred birds that none of you slick-fingers got the skill to pick that lock like I did.


    A hundred?


    Tahmids gone mad, promising a hundred silver away!


    Even Walid grunted in surprise while Tahmid smiled again. Looking at you lot, thats a safer bet than finding lice in a sailors crotch.


    Why do you want to pay us for picking the lock? one of hispanions asked suspiciously.


    I dont intend to pay you bastards a single petty. And when you all fail miserably, you got no choice but to admit Tahmid is the best thief in town.


    For a chance at hundred silver, Ill admit anything.


    One moment, good masters, Tahmid told them, closing the lid. He dug out his picks, inserted them, and while they all scrutinised his movements, he turned the lock. All yours, he smiled.


    Immediately, the rogues began pushing and shovelling, mouring to be the first to take a crack at al-Hadids most famous work of craftsmanship.


    ~~~~


    The little boy pointed at an unassuming building with a dragon sigil carved above the door, and he turned around to send Garrick a wide smile while sticking out his hand.


    Ill be damned, Garrick eximed, digging out two copper petties. You dont speak a lick of the kings tongue, but sail my ship if you didnt know exactly where to take me. He dropped the coins into the urchins hand. The boys small fingers snapped shut like a bear trap, and he ran off whileughing. Checking yet again that his purse was still with him, Garrick entered the shrine for Rihimil.


    It looked slightly different than those in Adalmearc; the room was entirely square, and the altar was ced precisely in the middle. The warrior statue was not marble, but baster, but there was no doubt that it was the ck Knight. Garrick pulled out a leather string he wore around his neck; its pendant was a simple wooden carving upon which was written the rune for Rihimil. Holding the pendant, Garrick bowed down to kiss the foot of the statue. Thank you for a safe journey, he prayed.


    Straightening up, a start went through him; the darkness of the room had concealed that he was not alone. In a ck robe stood an acolyte, looking at him. Apologies, master, the youth spoke. I didnt mean to frighten you.


    I wasnt frightened, Garrick grumbled. You just took me by surprise, is all.


    Regardless, you are wee in this holy ce, the acolyte continued. If you are new to the city and require help of some sort, we will dly offer it. We can also ensure any letters bound for Adalmearc is sent swiftly on your behalf.


    I dont got any letters to send, but I do have one for your master, Garrick replied, pulling out a bundled piece of parchment. Theres an anointed priest in this ce, right?


    There is, the acolyte told him and extended his hand to take the letter.


    Garrick pulled it back, out of reach. Ill be delivering it myself. I got business to discuss with him anyway.


    If this bothered the young man, he did not let it show. Very well. Follow me.


    He led Garrick into an adjacent room, where an older priest sat with the silver dragon of Rihimil on his chest. Thank you, boy, he told the acolyte, who left them.


    Whats your name, Brother? Garrick asked.


    I am Brother Cuthbert, the priest answered, looking expectantly at the neer.


    This is for you, Garrick said, handing over the letter. I also have this. He took out a rune-stave.


    The priest grabbed both wood and parchment, letting his eyes run over runes and letters. Youre Garrick?


    None other.


    Did Godfrey instruct you?


    I think he expected you to do so.


    The ckrobe nodded. Its quite simple. We have contacts throughout the city that gather useful knowledge. It would seem odd for some of these personages to visit our temple, especially on a regr basis.


    You need someone to go between. Who wont look odd visiting your shrine.


    Youre quick. Good. Yes, as a northerner, none will think it odd that you visit us from time to time.


    That implies someone is keeping this ce under observation. You really think thats the case? Garrick asked with doubt in his voice.


    Most assuredly, Cuthbert replied dryly. Which is why you should not linger. Take this, he continued, pulling out a short piece of paper, This has an address written upon it. Get one of the street children to show you the way, but beware your purse.


    I know, Garrick nodded, taking the note, they got more tricks for stealing than a dogs got fleas.


    That ce is at your disposal to live in. Before you leave, your assignment is this.


    Already got work, eh?


    In the southern medinas  neighbourhoods, Cuthbert added, theres an unsavoury tavern called The Broken Tooth. Tonight, Ill send my acolyte to take you there. Your task is simply to wait until the Prince of Cats makes contact with you.


    The prince of what?


    Cats, Cuthbert added irritated. I thought you were quick. Keep to yourself. The Prince knows to expect a northerner. Youll be contacted and informed what you need to know.


    And if nobody approaches me, what do I do?


    Return the next night, and the next, until the Prince finds you.


    Garrick raised his eyebrows. Hes an actual fellow, this kitten of yours?


    And not to be trifled with, the ckrobe urged him. He is the ruler of the underworld and the most feared man in all of Alczar. Do not speak of him in jest, do not mock him, and never threaten him.


    Garrick squinted. And youre sending me to meet with him?


    You need not worry. He is bound to our cause. Enough questions. You know all that you need to know. Cuthbert stood up, signalling an end to their conversation.


    Fine. Ill be seeing you, I suppose.


    Yes, but not too soon. Wait at least four days. As Garrick left the room and the shrine, Cuthbert called out loud enough that the street could hear, Rihimil keep you, my son!


    ~~~~


    Crossing Alczar, Garrick eventually found his amodations, which was a single room amidst a number of others in a shared building. A jar of water was present along with the most basic of household items, but that did not include food. After some investigation, Garrick learned that none of his neighbours spoke Mearcspeech, but with an exchange of gestures, he persuaded one of them to let her small daughter take him to the marketce.


    It was afternoon, and the heat had dominance of the streets. Walking in his heavy boots, Garrick sent an envious look at the sandals worn by people around him. Thankfully, his young guide knew to stick to the shade, leading him through the clustered medinas, whose narrow alleys allowed little sunlight to reach the ground.


    Approaching the docks, the girl made a few sharp turns until arge, crowded space extended in all directions before Garricks eyes. Souk, she told him, saying the word a few times slowly with an overbearing grin.


    Souk, he repeated. Im guessing that means the ce where honest men get swindled out of their coin. Or marketce, for short. She grinned at him and extended her hand. Once a copper had been ced in it, she ran towards a stall to buy something to eat.


    Keeping a tight hold on his remaining coin, Garrick ventured forth. Some things were familiar, such as the smell of butchered meat or different types of cheese; cows, sheep, and goats were the same whether in Adalmearc or by the Mydlonde Sea. The same held true for most of the bread he could spot; wheat was wheat. What stood out to the Mearcian was the assortment of fruits. There was a wealth of them, many of which he had never heard of. Some of the vendors had little time for the foreigner, but others relished exining their names to Garrick, usually with an avnche of other words in Suthspeech to follow. Garrick simply nodded, repeating the names to himself.


    The most striking differencepared to the marketces of Adalmearc was the barrage of smellsing from heaps of spices, creating patterns of colour to please the gods themselves. In Fontaine, a handful from one of these piles, be it pepper, cinnamon, or something else, would cost a days wage or more. Here, servants and wives bartered endlessly before filling small pots with saffron, cloves, nutmeg, or anything else they desired to vour their meals with.


    After consideration, Garrick decided in favour of a few loaves of bread and a variety of fruits, some familiar, some strange to him. Tracking down his small guide, she led him back to their house. Bidding the little girl farewell, Garrick returned to his room, where he ate his fill. There were no temples with bells in this city announcing the passing of the day, but the waning light suggested that evening was still an hour or two away. After washing down his meal with a swig of water, Garricky down on his bed and sought sleep for a while.


    ~~~~


    As evening came, there was a soft knock on Garricks door; it continued for a while until it finally stirred him from his slumber. Opening the door, he found the young acolyte from Rihimils temple.


    Its time to leave.


    I figured, Garrick grunted. One moment. He poured some water down his throat followed by a few figs, buckled his sword around his waist, and left the room after locking the door. Silently, the ckrobe turned and led him out of the house onto the streets of Alczar.


    The city was less hectic than it had been during the day. Fewer people were moving about, the pace was slower in general, and most citizens congregated at teahouses and other establishments. At just about every corner, Garrick saw locals seated around small tables, enjoying conversation and sweet-scented tea fromrge mugs. They nced at him disinterestedly as he passed by; northerners were not a rare sight in the city that connected Adalmearc with the trade routes of the Mydlonde Sea.


    The further south they moved, the rougher seemed their surroundings. The buildings were built by coarser hands, the cobbled streets showed the asional sign of disrepair, and the inhabitants carried long daggers rather than knives in their belts. Keeping a hand on the pommel of his sword, Garrick hurried after his guide and kept his gaze from lingering.


    Turning yet another corner, the ckrobe stopped. Best I stop here before anyone sees us together. Follow down this street another three hundred paces. To your left, youll see arge tavern. The noise and lights will tell you that youre at the right ce.


    Garrick peered down the street. As you say.


    Remember, you may have to wait several nights before the Prince approaches you. He likely only stops by once or twice a week.


    I know, I got it, Garrick said dismissively, still looking down the street. Its not like I got other ces to be. There was no reply from the acolyte; when Garrick turned around, he found himself alone. ckrobes, he muttered indignantly to himself and continued on his path.


    The Broken Tooth was busy like any other night. People in various states of inebriation littered the street outside, and Garrick had to weave his way forward to reach the entrance and step inside. The enormousmon room spread out before his gaze. Looking to his left, he saw a richly dressed woman seated on a sea of pillows and surrounded by guards and sycophants; to his right, he saw the barkeep.


    Got some ale? he asked.


    The woman stared at him, neither understanding his speech nor impressed by his appearance. She pulled out a mug and filled a hot liquid in it. One hand extended the tankard; the other extended itself with open palm.


    Right, Garrick muttered, dropping a few petties into the empty hand. When her demeanour did not change, he doubled the number of coins before she finally pushed the mug across to him. Much obliged.


    He stood aimlessly until he located a chair by a small table, both of them unupied. Seizing the spot, Garrick sat down with his back against the wall, inspecting his surroundings once more. Drinks, both of the intoxicating kind and milder varieties, were naturally consumed at every table. Games of cards or dice were yed in several locations, typically with small stacks of copper or silver traded back and forth ording to the whims of fortune.


    More curiously, one of therger tables near the middle of the room held a metal lockbox of the kind usually kept in bedrooms or studies to protect valuables. Several stood congregated around, apparently attempting to unlock it, though none seemed to have a key; the asional groans of frustration were heard, and the onlookers wore smug expressions.


    The mood was torn by themotion of shouts and men tumbling around. A couple of brutes came in, dragging a third man between them. A few gashes showed that he had not surrendered without a fight, receiving a ck eye among other bruises for his resistance. The patrons shouted in glee, none having sympathy with the captive; several of them spat in his direction as he was dragged through themon room, all the way to the other side.


    The ruffians threw him to the floor in front of the dais upon which the bejewelled woman sat, like a beggar before a queen. She eyed him with disdain and spoke harsh words along with a quick throw of the head. The captive attempted to form some manner of reply, but a boot to his mouth silenced him, and his captors picked him up again. The room fell silent while he was being hauled further back and through a door, disappearing down the descending darkness beyond.


    The woman let her gaze sweep over the impromptu assembly. Her left hand caressed the pendant of her ne, an enormous sapphire of immeasurable worth. She addressed the men and women with further harsh tones and swiftly returned to her seat. Taking a sip of his tea, Garrick leaned back in his chair until he felt the wall pressing against him.


    ~~~~


    The hours passed, and the tea in Garricks cup dwindled at the same, slow pace. More than once, he had it refilled and returned to his watch post, observing themon room but never letting his gaze linger on anyone or anything. It was long past midnight when one of the locals finally dropped into the empty chair opposite Garrick with a grin.


    Waiting to meet someone? Tahmid asked in Nordspeech.


    Aye, Garrick eximed relieved. I was starting to wonder if Id have toe back next night.


    Wonder no more, the rogue told him with a smile that revealed one of his teeth was painted ck, making it look broken.


    So youre him, eh? asked Garrick, leaning forward to continue with a whisper. Youre the Prince?


    An expression ran across Tahmids face. Ah, no, Im not  him. He is, whats the word, he is shy. Not happy to meet people he doesnt know.


    Garrick chewed this information for a moment. But do you know what hes meant to tell me?


    Not quite. I am but a humble messenger, asked to go between.


    I know the feeling, Garrick snorted.


    Suspicious people we work with, but suspicions keep us all alive, friend, Tahmid smiled. Im to take you to him. Wait a while, drink your tea, and leave the Tooth. Go down your strong side


    My strong side?


    Tahmid raised his right hand. Go this way once youre outside. Ill be waiting down the street for you. Understood?


    Clear as day.


    Tahmid sent him another broad smile. See you soon, friend.


    Shortly after, Garrick left the Broken Teeth and turned right. He had not walked far before Tahmid silently fell into ce next to him. Himils balls, youre quiet, Garrick eximed as he noticed the other man.


    It helps in my work, Tahmid smiled. I ask you to speak more quietly.


    Oh, right, Garrick mumbled. I didnt think about it.


    Thats why I was sent to pick you up.


    Cautious fellow, this Prince of yours.


    Tahmid licked his lips. There are few in Alczar who speak of him. None do so openly. This way. He gestured for them to turn down an alley.


    Just like the bloody ckrobes, getting mixed up in suchpany. Garrick shook his head in disapproval. Say, what was all thatmotion earlier? That guy who got pulled in.


    Who? Ah. He was a thief. He stole.


    Garrick frowned. I would have thought  I mean no disrespect, but


    He stole from his fellow thieves, Tahmid borated. In a band such as ours, there can be no tolerance for that.


    I guess so, Garrick conceded. His next words were left unspoken as a club hit him in the back of his head, and he slumped to the ground.


    Careful, Tahmid whispered through gritted teeth, switching to Suthspeech. He leaned down to examine the fallen northerner. You better not have killed him.


    Walid stepped out from the shadows. I know how to knock a man out.


    Hes breathing, Tahmid stated with his hand in front of Garricks face. Hurry up, lets get him tied up.


    His bigpanion brought out some rope and rags. I got a bad feeling about this, Tahmid.


    Well its toote now! Tahmid eximed exasperated, stuffing the cloth into Garricks mouth to form a gag. Besides, hes going to fetch us at least a hundred birds.


    Thats what you saidst time, Walid remarked sadly.


    Maybe eighty, Tahmid admitted. Hurry up. Lets get him to the vers before its dawn.


    Walid finished tying the cord around Garricks body and stood up. I got a bad feeling, he reiterated. Somethings off with this one.


    Thats what your mother said, but she still kept you. Now shut up and move. With his sad expression, Walid slung Garrick over his shoulder and began walking.

 Chapter 123: The Prince of Cats

    Chapter 123: The Prince of Cats


    The Broken Tooth had two cers. One contained food supplies, barrels of beverages, and what else a tavern might need. The other basement held shackles, cages, and devices of torture. Surrounded by these instruments in the dim light of torches, the Mistress of the ck Teeth stood out in her bright, expensive clothing and jewellery.


    How could this happen? she raged.


    Forgive me, Mistress, mumbled the torturer. He must have had a weak heart.


    Amal paced around the room. Did he at least say anything before he died?


    Her henchman stared at the rack, upon which a corpsey. Nothing coherent, Mistress. He merely pleaded that I stop, and I had barely begun. Shortly after, he was gone.


    Amal grabbed the dead mans jaw, turning his face towards her own. How dare you, she muttered with gritted teeth, pushing the head away from herself. You failed, she continued, looking at the torturer.


    I am deeply sorry, he imed, wringing his hands. I could not know.


    Ill decide your punishmentter, Amal sneered, stalking past him to leave the cer.


    Once she was gone, the torturers snivelling expression disappeared. He walked over to the rack and began unfastening the straps on the body. Forgive me, old boy, he spoke quietly to the corpse, but we couldnt risk you talking. He patted the dead man on the cheek a few times, whistling as he continued undoing the buckles.


    ~~~~


    In one of the countless warehouses surrounding the harbours of Alczar, two men entered to find Tahmid waiting for them. He was apanied by Walid, who used his size and heavy weapons to appear intimidating. Jumping down from a crate, Tahmid pushed its lid open to show it filled with swords. As promised, my good masters, Tahmid dered.


    The mens attire suggested they were servants of high rank; the emblem with a falcon on their chest showed them to be in service to the Kabir himself. One of them reached down to take out a sword and pull it a few inches from its scabbard. He ran his thumb over the edge and gave hispanion a nod.


    How did you manage to get arms of Nordsteel into Alczar? asked the other servant.


    Tahmid smiled. Sidi, you must allow me some secrets. Suffice to say, there are plenty among the northerners who would like to earn extra coin. He nced at the man inspecting the weapons. You are satisfied?


    With the quality, yes. The quantity is low.


    Smuggling puts a limit on how many goods can be moved, Tahmid exined with regret. But I can arrange for more shipments, as long as you are prepared to pay in advance.


    The two officials exchanged nods. Do it. As many as you can obtain within the year. Itll be toote next year.


    Tahmid smiled and gave a slight bow. With pleasure. As for my payment?


    One of the men threw a heavy bag of silver to the rogue. Therell be another in a few days to get the next shipment prepared. He paused for a moment. What of the northern spy?


    All taken care of. You wont see him in Alczar again, Tahmid assured them.


    Good. You have done the exalted Kabir a great service. One of the officials went to the warehouse gate, gesturing for workers to enter and begin hauling crates.


    It was my pleasure, sidi, Tahmid said subserviently. He motioned for Walid to follow him, and they quickly left. Once outside, Tahmid gave a small handful of coins to Walid. See? Thats silver in your hand, friend.


    I dont like it, Walid muttered. Grabbing people from the Tooth, smuggling weapons from the North Youre doing all the things the Mistress forbids.


    The Mistress, Tahmid scoffed. Weve made more silver in a week than weve done in months! Besides, you heard them. Were serving the Kabir. Dont tell me youre afraid of Amal.


    Im not, Walid replied. Im afraid of the Prince.


    Tahmid gave a snort. Are you scared of ghosts now?


    The Prince is real, Walid simply said. Hes the reason Amal is the Mistress.


    Says who? Amal? Tahmid spat on the ground. Thats all she has left. Rumours and lies while she clings to power. He ced the purse of silver inside his tunic. Shes keeping us from making a real earning, and theres plenty others of the Teeth who think the same!


    I dont like it, Walid muttered.


    ~~~~


    There was always a great number of northerners present in Alczar. Most were sailors on the countless trade vessels ploughing the seas between here and Herbergja or Portesur, and they usually sought out the temple for Disfara when observing religious duties or in need of divine aid. Even so, the shrine for Rihimil had its share of daily visitors, especially drakonians, as all citizens of Adalrik felt particr affinity for this deity.


    At the end of another day receiving offerings and tending to the faithful, Brother Cuthbert bid his acolyte goodnight and retired to his small, private room. It was one of the few privileges that his rank afforded him as leader of this shrine; his acolyte slept in the open chamber adjacent to the altar room.


    Cuthbert had only blown out his candle andin down when a voice whispered to him in the darkness. We need to talk.


    The priest sat up in his bed with a start. Whos there?


    Quiet. You know who I am.


    Cuthbert swallowed, looking around in the dark. Yes. Why have youe?


    A few nights ago, your man entered the Broken Tooth. He has been gone since.


    What happened?


    A good question, the voice assented. He was betrayed. Pointed out and removed. The Kabirs men knew who he was from the start.


    But how? asked Cuthbert. Nothing distinguished him from the others whoe to our shrine.


    How indeed. Only someone in your confidence could have revealed his true nature.


    The priests mouth fell open, and he looked at the door. No. It cant be.


    It was.


    I dont believe you! Hes my acolyte, hed never betray our order.


    Yet he did. Whether it was the promise of silver or the threat of violence, he ratted you out, the voice dered firmly. He has been doing so for a long time, I suspect.


    I dont believe it, Cuthbert reiterated hoarsely.


    If you wont deal with him, I will.


    No, no! Ill send him away, Cuthbert promised. Hes been corrupted by Alczar. He was too young. Theres no need to kill him.


    Not how I would have done it, the voice considered, but you clean your house how you see fit.


    What happens next? asked the priest.


    I do some cleaning of my own. But all of this, including mying here, has aroused a lot of attention. The Kabirs men are watching this ce like hawks. They saw me enter, and theyll watch me leave. I risk too much bying here. I cant do so again.


    Ill find a recement for the man who was supposed to have met you.


    Let at least two months pass before he goes to the Tooth. Things need to quiet down.


    Very well, Cuthbert assented.


    Tell Khalid this is thest favour Ill do for him, for Adalmearc, the voice dered. The Prince of Cats will not remain beholden to anyone. Once war breaks out, I am done.


    Understood. A breeze entering the room told Cuthbert that the small window had been opened, and he heard quick movement as the voice disappeared.


    ~~~~


    Later that night, not long before sunrise, Amal was awakened by a hand sped over her mouth. Her eyelids shot open, and her hand jerked out to grab a knife. As her arm bent backwards, it was intercepted and the de kept from stabbing the intruder. Amal, its me.


    She blinked in the dark, rxing her body, and the hand was slowly removed from her mouth. What in Haktars name are you doing? she hissed.


    Your ship is leaking, the voice told her calmly. If you dont act soon, itll be sinking.


    I am handling it, Amal replied coldly.


    Are you? A few days ago, a shipment of weapons was smuggled into Alczar, despite my ban. Your people dont respect you, Amal.


    It is to be expected that some dont respect the rules in a band of thieves, she defended herself. Im finding the guilty parties soon.


    I gave you one of them not one week ago, the voice said. He should have revealed his fellow conspirators by now.


    There was a small set-back, Amal mumbled. He died on the rack before he could say anything.


    What kind of imbecile kills the victim before he can confess anything?


    It was a mistake, obviously. He had a weak heart, apparently.


    A sigh could be heard. Did your torturer tell you this?


    Of course, who else?


    Then he is part of the conspiracy. No torturer worth his salt would begin with anything so extraneous as to cause death, even in the weakest of men. Clearly youve never been tortured by an expert, the voice remarked dryly.


    I havent, no, she sneered, but with little bite in her voice.


    Get yourself a new torturer and put the old one on the rack. That should help your investigations.


    Itll be fine. I have this matter under control, she imed. Ill hunt the rest of them down.


    The voice made no reply; its owner had disappeared from the room.


    ~~~~


    Days after Garricks disappearance, everything seemed normal at the Broken Tooth. Several of the patrons were gathered around Tahmids prize, the strongbox made by al-Hadid. So far, none had managed to learn its secrets and how to unlock it. Frustrated, yet another of the thieves threw her lock picks on the table. I thought I had it!


    A valiant effort, Tahmid dered with an overbearing voice. But s, only an effort and nothing more. It would seem my hundred silver are safe.


    The other rogues nced at each other with obvious chagrin. Im not letting this chunk of metal get the best of me! one of them imed. Out of my way! He pushed forward, digging out his lock picks to try his luck.


    Grinning, Tahmid dropped into a seat next to his usualpanion, Walid. Fetch us something to drink, will you? he asked.


    Depends on whos paying.


    Tahmid dug out a silver piece and flipped it to Walid. Here you are, my boy. Make sure its from the barrel, not the pitcher with all the leftovers poured together.


    I know, I know, Walid muttered as he left.


    While hisrgepatriot was gone, Tahmid let his eyes survey the room. They soon came to rest upon a short, slender man in his fifties entering the Broken Tooth. The neer exchanged words here and there while ncing around the room, staying inconspicuous. Nothing about his appearance was noteworthy. His clothes were typical, and his belt held nothing, not a coin purse or even a knife. Only his movements and gestures betrayed his dexterity and swiftness, which to other rogues were tell-tale signs of a skilled thief. This in itself did not set him apart from the other patrons; most of them were experienced in that craft. The only thing that might give an observer pause was the consideration that he had grey hairs in a profession that rarely allowed for old age.


    When Walid returned, Tahmid nodded towards the new arrival. Do you know him?


    I might have seen him before. I couldnt tell you his name, Walid replied, putting down two mugs.


    He seems quite at home, yet Im certain Ive never seen him here, Tahmid considered, taking a deep sip from his drink. That bothers me.


    Youre not thinking of making a mark of him, are you?ined Walid. It hasnt even been a week since the northerner.


    Be careful where you mention that, Tahmid warned him while looking around.


    Because the Mistress would have our hides if she knew, Walid murmured with a dark look at Tahmid.


    Youre a ray of sunshine tonight, Tahmid retorted, taking another sip. Ive put more coin in your purse than anybody else in the Teeth could have!


    Coins no good if youre a dead man.


    I got better things to do than listen to you whine, Tahmid dered, emptying his mug in one gulp. Sort yourself out! Theres plenty of muscle in this room whod dly take your ce. He got up and left themon room, stalking upstairs. Left behind, Walid got a second ale, drinking by himself and looking dour.


    Well met. Youre Walid, I am told. The very man previously observed by Tahmid slid into the seat opposite Walid.


    What do you care, came the brusque reply.


    I am Jawad, the stranger introduced himself. Perhaps you recognise this? He showed a silver coin in the palm of his hand, but it was of strange make. It did not have the eagle of Adalmearc or the falcon of Alczar as its symbol; instead, a jagged de was printed upon it.


    Youre one of Amals dogs.


    Jawad gave a smile. One way to put it. I have her trust.


    So what are you sniffing around me for?


    It hase to the attention of our Mistress that not all obey her edicts, Jawad began to exin. People under the protection of this ce being assaulted, robbed, or worse. Timber, iron ore, and weapons smuggled into Alczar from the northernnds despite her ban.


    I wouldnt know anything about that, Walid dered.


    Im sure. But your friend does. In fact, hes deeply involved in all of this.


    Listen, I dont know what youre after


    The truth, Walid, thats all.


    So why are you talking to me and not the Mistress? If you already know.


    I like to be thorough. All I need from you, Walid, is that you confirm Tahmid has broken ourws.


    If you think Im going to rat him out, youre a fool, Walid growled with contempt. If I stab Tahmid in the back, the other Teeth will stab me, he argued, only theyll use actual knives.


    Nobody will know it was you.


    As if, Walid scoffed. Anything I say is only useful if I say it in front of everybody. Amal needs proof to use anyone.


    Amal does, Jawad spoke quietly, but the Prince of Cats does not.


    An expression ran across Walids face. Im not falling for that.


    Some nights ago, a man was lured away from the Tooth and never came back. Unfortunately, he was under the protection of the Prince.


    I wouldnt know anything about that, Walid imed.


    He was seen leaving this ce inpany of another. Someone short. Seeing as you are rather noticeable, I know that wasnt you. So Im guessing your role was to carry out the ambush, while Tahmid was the one who lured him outside.


    I would never break the peace of the Tooth! Walid dered, loud enough that people nearby turned to look. You cant just use me. Theres no evidence Ive done anything wrong, he continued in a lower voice.


    No, but the Prince doesnt need evidence. He can be indiscriminate at times. Jawad leaned forward. He wants to know who did not show him proper respect. I can give him two suspected names, or one guilty name.


    Ive done nothing wrong, Walid maintained.


    The Prince wont care. Hes out for blood. The choice is yours.


    Walid licked his lips. Youre right, it was Tahmid. He made the n to ambush the foreigner and sell him. But I aint saying that again, and youre keeping my name out of it!


    Of course, Jawad smiled.


    Else Ill know who toe for, Walid growled.


    The smile evaporated from Jawads face. My dear friend, youd never be given the chance. Now, I suggest you spend the rest of this night elsewhere. Immediately, he got up himself and left.


    Moving through the crowd of patrons, Jawad approached the elevated area of themon room. The guards sent him menacing res while thepanions of the leader barely spared him a look; the head of the thieves herself clenched her jaw.


    Jawad showed his silver token. I should speak with the Mistress. Surprised, the guards stood aside. The old rogue walked past them to step onto the elevation. The smell of incense reached his nose; sprawled on couches and pillowsy the favourite servants and henchmen of the Mistress, many of them wearing delicate clothing and jewellery. Seeing Jawad approach, their stares floated between him and the woman in the centre.


    The woman, roughly his equal in age, raised a hand to wave her attendants away. Leave us, shemanded. A few of them grumbled and sent the neer a dirty look as they dispersed. He ignored them all until they were gone, sitting down by her side. What is it? she asked.


    As I suspected, Tahmid is the guilty party.


    Amal bit her lower lip. He has been very aggressive ofte. ying up his reputation, courting the other thieves. Im starting to think he might be aiming for my position.


    Its always the greedy ones.


    How do you know?


    Jawad gave a slight shrug. I bluffed hispatriot, Walid, mentioning all the unsanctioned activities. I figured that Tahmid would be involved in at least some of it, and Walid admitted that Tahmid was behind assaulting the ajama. He looked back into themon room at Walid. Have someone keep an eye on him. We dont want him warning his friend.


    Amal nodded. The question is what to do about Tahmid.


    Ill arrange his death. Soon.


    Thats not without issue, Amal argued. If Tahmid dies simply because he is a threat to me, the other Teeth will not tolerate my leadership. Theyll riot.


    They wont if Tahmid is found guilty of stealing from you.


    Hed never be that stupid.


    Jawad smiled. Unless we arrange it.


    Amal sent him a scrutinising look. How will you do this?


    Jawads eyes lingered on the great sapphire in her ne before he turned his head to stare at the lockbox in the middle of the room. Even several days after, the masterwork of al-Hadid had defied every lock pick among the ck Teeth. Thats an interesting strongbox. Tahmids pride, I have been told.


    Yes, nobody else can figure out how to open it. It would take even you hours, Id wager.


    Jawad smiled. Thats what Im counting on.


    ~~~~


    The following night, Jawad went back to the Broken Tooth. He found the ce busy as ever; themon room in the Broken Tooth never slept, and it was frequented by patrons at all hours. In his usual, inconspicuous manner, the old rogue made his way upstairs.


    After a while, Jawad returned from the upper floors to enter themon room once more. ncing around, he searched until he spotted a particrly vicious-looking man with arms like masts. The brigand was having ate night, drinking with much fervour and gambling with little luck.


    Jawad slid up next to him; despite standing up while the other man was sitting down, their height difference was negligible. Dice arent your friends tonight, I see.


    The ruffian slowly turned his head to re at Jawad. Be gone, gnat. Intoxication was heavy on his breath.


    I hear that guy over there, Battar, isnt your friend, either, Jawad continued undisturbed. Im told he took all your winnings the other night. But I could be your friend. He added in a quiet voice. As could this pouch of twenty silver. He hefted the purse under the table, out of sight from others.


    His conversation partner stared at him with narrowed eyes. What do you want?


    I dont like that guy either. But look at me, Im hardly a challenge, Jawad admitted, shrugging his scrawny shoulders. So Ill give you these twenty birds, and all you have to do isnd a punch on a guy you already dislike.


    The brute squinted for a moment before his face lit up in a grin. Deal.


    Jawad handed over the pouch, still keeping it below the table, and sauntered away. Momentster, themon room erupted in chaos andmotion as a fight broke out. Several others were dragged in, furniture splintered, the guards rushed over to separate thebatants, and everybody else was busy spectating, cheering, and cing bets on the oue.


    Meanwhile with everyones eyes elsewhere, Jawad moved to the table with al-Hadids infamous lockbox upon it. He fiddled with it for a few moments while ncing around, ensuring none were watching him. The sounds of fighting and shouts followed him as he soon after left the Broken Tooth.


    ~~~~


    Next morning, Tahmid descended from the stairs of the Tooth. Like most members of the ck Teeth, he resided permanently at the inn, eating his meals and spending most of his time there. He was busy with a te of porridge when Jawad sat down opposite him.


    Do I know you, friend? asked Tahmid. His tone was cordial, but his eyes were not.


    You do even if we have never met, hispanion replied. My reputation tends to precede me.


    Tahmids eyes nced over Jawads unimposing presence. Doubtful, he mumbled with a spoonful of porridge in his mouth.


    I am the Prince of Cats.


    Tahmid coughed, and his spoon fell onto the table. He sized up Jawad once more. Youre lying.


    It doesnt matter if you believe me, Jawad remarked casually. In fact, nothing you say or do matters anymore. I simply wanted you to know why this is happening to you. You crossed me.


    Tahmid stared at Jawad while his expression flickered between disbelief, suspicion, and dread. What have you done? His eyes darted around the room while his hand sought towards the dagger in his belt.


    Jawad did not reply but stood up and walked away. Tahmid stared at him and finally resolved to get up. Before he got any further, the assorted crew of brigands employed as guards spilled into the room from the upper floors. They quickly moved to block every exit, herding people away and keeping them inside. From the top of the stairs, Amal descended. She walked through the room as whispers and voices multiplied, reaching the elevated part of the room.


    Last night, she spoke where everyone could see her, someone stole from me. My sapphire ne, my most precious belonging taken as I slept. Her fingers moved over her chest where it usually adorned her. You all know the rule about thievery within our association. Her cold eyes moved over the faces of the crowd. It cannot be tolerated. None dared speak, and she continued. The guards are searching the rooms upstairs. You will all be searched as well. Nobody will leave the Tooth until it is found.


    Tahmids eyes moved between Amal and Jawad. Is guilt proven if the ne is found in someones room? It would be an all too easy way to frame someone, he imed. If any of us stole it, would they hide it here? No, he continued, turning towards the crowd, theyd be far gone by now.


    Tahmids right, several murmured. Nobodys dumb enough to steal and stay.


    Unless, Jawad interjected, they knew theyd never make a clean escape. The ck Teeth has eyes and ears everywhere, right? If some disappeared the same night as the theft took ce, theyd not get far.


    And who are you to make such statements? Tahmid asked aggressively. Ive never seen you before. Your teeth are white. Youre not one of us, he said pointedly, gesturing to the crowd.


    Jawad is an acquaintance of mine, Amal proimed. Hell be searched the same as everyone else.


    To which I make no objections, Jawad consented. In fact, the only one who seems concerned is you, Tahmid.


    All eyes turned towards the aforementioned thief. Tahmid made a big show of patting his pockets. No ne here, Im afraid. This evoked a few grins from the crowd.


    Im told youre a good thief, Tahmid, Jawad said, addressing the spectators as well. If you did steal the ne, youd have a brilliant hiding spot for it, Im sure.


    How can you allow this outsider to use me? Tahmid asked Amal with outrage. Im one of the ck Teeth, you all know me!


    Amal raised her hand. Ill hear him speak. If his usation is false, you may decide his punishment.


    Mollified, Tahmid smirked. Very well. Go on, Jawad. He spoke the name with a sneer. Let me guess. You stole the ne and ced it in my chamber. Did you hide it in my water jar? You wouldnt be so droll as to hide it under my mattress, I hope. That would just be embarrassing.


    Youd find the perfect hiding ce, Im sure. Somewhere in in sight, where nobody would think to look, Jawad continued. His head slowly turned until he looked at al-Hadids lockbox. Like there.


    Tahmid gave a snort. Youre getting desperate. That thing hasnt been opened for days. Its as empty as your head.


    If thats the case, you wont mind unlocking it and letting us see, Jawad smiled.


    The used thief looked around the room, suddenly having the expression of a cornered animal. From all sides, faces stared at him in anticipation. This is a trick, he mumbled. Youll make some kind of switch, make it seem like it was always there.


    Ill be all the way over here, Jawad assured him, taking a few steps backwards.


    Tahmid, open the lock, Amalmanded. Some of her guards stepped closer towards him.


    Fine, he dered. But once its shown to be empty, I want his lying tongue cut out.


    That seems reasonable, Jawad assented.


    Tahmid walked over, taking out his lock picks. He poked around for a few moments until an audible click was heard. Immediately, one of the guards opened the lid and stuck his hand down. All eyes were fixed on him as he withdrew a ne with a huge sapphire pendant. Impossible, Tahmid stammered. You! You put it there! he yelled at Jawad.


    How could I? Even the best of thieves would take hours to learn how to unlock that, Jawad pointed out. The strongbox has been in in sight for days. Has anyone seen me tinkering day in, night out? The onlookers shook their head, murmuring denials of such an urrence.


    You did it! Tahmid shrieked as the guards seized his arms. Hes a liar! Hes  Someone clubbed him in the back of the head, which had a calming effect upon the rogue.


    Throw him in the cer, Amal told them with disdain in her voice. She held up her ne for everyone to see. Always remember, we take from them! She gestured to the city thaty outside the tavern. Never from each other!


    Hear, hear! Angry looks followed Tahmid being dragged to the basement. Meanwhile, Jawad retreated into the crowd and slipped away.


    ~~~~


    Later in the day, Amal had dismissed her attendants and retired to her chamber. She felt a breeze move through the room. Do you ever use the door?


    Jawad smiled. The less I am seen, the better. Besides, it keeps me in practice.


    I assume you didnte just to be congratted for your ruse?


    No, though you are right. I deserve praise for that, he imed with a grin.


    How did you do it? Amal asked. How were you able to get the ne into al-Hadids lockbox? It seems like magic.


    Jawad licked his lips that were still smiling. Im tempted to let you believe that, but the temptation to exin my brilliance is greater.


    I forgot how insufferable you can be, Amal mumbled. Go on, tell me. How did you manage to unlock it?


    Simple. I went to al-Hadid. I had him make an identical lock for me to practise on until I knew its secrets by heart.


    Clever. The admission was spoken with reluctance. Is al-Hadid dead now?


    What for? asked Jawad with a frown. That would be a waste of his skill. He helped me willingly in exchange for observing my efforts. Im visiting him next week to test his improvements.


    What will happen if he seeds in making a lock you cant pick?


    I suspect that will be thest lock he ever makes.


    He has no idea who you truly are, does he?


    Of course not.


    Amal stared at him. I cannot tell if you are Jawad ying the role of the Prince, or if Jawad is the mask.


    Good. Enough idle talk. Your position is still not secure.


    I thought Tahmid was the ringleader. Regardless, hell give up the rest under torture.


    If they are known to him. Your ship has been leaking for a long time, Amal. Too many unsanctioned activities have been taking ce. Tahmid could not have been involved in all of them.


    Amal drank some wine from a cup, hiding the nervous expression on her face. That seems like a stretch. Having a single group responsible seems the more obvious answer than two separate groups.


    I always adored your optimism. Jawads cold smile gainsaid his professed feelings. Im sure it will help you root out any dissidents. Before Amal could respond, he turned and leapt out of her window, disappearing over the rooftops.

 Chapter 124: Jawad

    Chapter 124: Jawad


    Dr al-Imra was counted among the Hundred Houses of Alczar, making it one of the preeminent trading houses of the city. It was owned by the family al-Musharaf, who made their wealth known by living in a splendid pce with stables and beautiful gardens. As the principal trade of Dr al-Imra was training ve boys into mamluks, thergepound also contained extensive living quarters for the host of people owned or employed by the family in various capacities.


    Each morning, the master of the house woke early. Leaving his chamber in the harmlik, he walked through the corridors of his pce, greeting servants as he passed them. Once he entered the courtyard, he would pause and watch the mamluks conduct their morning exercises. On asion, he might exchange words with the master of arms in charge of the training, demanding corrections or offering praise before he continued on his way. The manner of his gait and the sword by his side suggested that, although not a ve soldier, the master of Dr al-Imra knew his own trade.


    His morning walk always ended at the stables, where he would procure a mount for a ride to his possessions in the city. While a stable hand prepared a steed for him, the master toured the stalls, inspecting his horses and making idle talk with beasts and servants alike.


    You seem less energetic than usual, he remarked with concern as he patted his favourite mare on her muzzle. And your eyes have a bit of shine to them. Boy, how much did she eatst night? he asked the nearest servant without looking at thetter.


    Im as old as you are, Faisal, the other man replied with a quiet mutter, which prompted the nobleman to whip his head around.


    I wondered how long until you made your appearance.


    Jawad approached the nobleman, pretending to be busy caring for the horse. I didnt want to show up before I had results.


    Youve solved the issue?


    Jawad nodded. Your lockbox will be returned today along with all of your items that I could find. Theres gold inpensation for the rest.


    And the thief?


    His days of thieving are over. His days of doing anything, in fact.


    Very well. You have held up your end of the bargain as always. But you could simply have delivered all of this in a message, Faisal al-Musharaf pointed out.


    Jawad lowered his head, hiding his smile. You hold the highest rank of all my friends.


    It warms my heart to be named thus, the nobleman replied, trying to tempt his mare to eat by offering the creature half an apple.


    I have heard the Kabir has sent his two favourite sons to Labdah.


    This is no secret. They left only yesterday, I believe.


    Given past hostility between our fair city and the Emerald Tower, how should this move be understood? asked Jawad.


    Presumably, the intent is to open trade once more, though I cannot imagine Labdah will be amenable towards that.


    Jawad nced through the stable doors at the ve soldiers practising weaponry. You have more men in training than usual.


    The Kabir has increased his demand. Though he has not sent many mamluks to Labdah, if that was your thought, Faisal told him. The princes have mostly brought mercenaries with them. It makes you wonder what the Kabir needs with so many mamluks.


    And so many mercenaries. Jawad abandoned his pretence of tending to tasks. Ill take no more of your time. Youre eager to continue with your day, Im sure.


    Come by some evening for tea. You are wee to enter by the main entrance.


    Jawad smiled. You know me better than that. He made his exit, leaving Faisal to care for his horse.


    ~~~~


    A city of trade, Alczar was dominated by warehouses and mercantile buildings. Clerks with records, ves carrying packs, and drivers leading camels or donkeys filled the surrounding streets, transporting goods in a constant flow between the harbours, the gates, and the countless storage rooms.


    Along those employed in and by the wealth of the city, an odd pair walked. One was short and slender, the other big in every way. Walking empty-handed, they stood in stark contrast to the busy trains of barrels, packs, and crates being hauled by those around them.


    It was around here, Walid muttered. Lumbering down the street with the grace and awareness of a blind elephant, he had already knocked several bearers to the ground; it seemed he preferred to go through obstacles rather than around. In contrast, Jawad was small and lithe, weaving in and out to avoid traffic, and few seemed to even notice his presence.


    Youve said that four times this morning, Jawad grumbled. I thought Tahmid used this location repeatedly.


    It looks different at night, Walidined.


    Youre not even looking at the warehouses were passing by. Jawad dodged a donkey with baskets of fruit on its back.


    I wont recognise it by looking at it.


    Pray tell, how? Does it have a distinct odour? Will it whisper your name as you pass by?


    No, mumbled Walid. I meant, its not the warehouse itself that I know.


    I suppose knowledge is hardly your strongest suit, Jawad conceded. But in this case, it may be your saving grace.


    How so? Another bearer fell victim to Walid as thetter pushed forward.


    Youre clearly not a man of ambition. If you were, you would be sharing Tahmids fate as we speak.


    I warned him, Walid imed. I told him it wouldnt go well.


    Even a blind rabbit can smell the foxing, it would seem.


    There! Walid raised his finger towards their left at arge building. Thats where Tahmid delivered the weapons.


    Dont point, Jawad said quickly, pping his hand down. Are you sure?


    I remember that carcass, Walid exined, now pointing to the ground at the remnants of a dead bird. By the look of it, the creature had been dead for days, crushed into the dirt by a cartwheel at some point.


    That exins your preupation with looking into the ground rather than ahead where youre walking, Jawad admitted. Very well. Lets go. He began walking again. Youre certain Tahmids buyers wore the falcon crest?


    I think so. Not a lot of others wearing birds on their clothes.


    Not much I can do about that, Jawad conceded, mumbling to himself.


    What?


    Never mind. Your part is done.


    Walid shot hispanion a nce. This settles it, right? The Prince isnt going toe after me.


    Never fear. Youre too dumb to pose a threat, and too useful to simply discard. Go home, Walid. Jawad disappeared between the rows of animals and men, invisible as he crawled along the strands of trade covering Alczar like a spiders web.


    ~~~~


    North of the maswary an alley, much the same as all the other alleys in this medina. It had a few shops selling hot food or cool water, a well-reputed shoemaker, children ying on the street, and neighbours leaning out of windows to exchange news. Its only object of curiosity was the shrine to Rihimil, upied by a northern priest and asionally attracting other northerners to visit. Thanks to this, one or two reeves employed by the Kabir sat in the aforementioned shops at all hours, keeping watch while pretending to be engaged in conversation.


    At one end, Jawad stared down the length of the alley. His gaze moved from the shrine to the Kabirs men, watching all entering or leaving the small temple. Girl,e here, he spoke softly to a nearby child ying with a handful of rags stuffed into the shape of a doll.


    Aged around eight and more curious than afraid, the girl approached Jawad. Who are you?


    He opened both his hands to show the child; each of his palms held a coin. One was a silver eagle, the other held the jagged de of the ck Teeth. Do you know these coins?


    She looked from one to the other. Yes. She took a step back.


    This coin is yours if youplete a task. Jawad threw the eagle to her, and she dropped her doll on instinct to catch the valuable piece of silver. This coin is a warning to you. He held up the symbol of the ck Teeth. Forget me as soon as it is done.


    Whats the task?


    Jawad produced a rune-stave from his sleeve and extended it towards her. Go to the temple where the ajama in the ck robe lives. Give it to him.


    The girl eyed both the rogue and the rune-stave with suspicion. Thats it? And I get to keep this silver? She clutched the coin.


    Thats all.


    Hesitant, she reached out and grabbed the piece of wood, pulling her hand back instantly. Turning on her heel after picking up her doll, she walked quickly down the street. Jawad watched her from the corner until he saw her enter the shrine. Once the girl was out of sight, so was the rogue, just before the Kabirs reeve turned his head.


    ~~~~


    Alczary upon a great rock, protecting the southern tip of the city from any approach. Further north, sandy beaches allowed for the two harbours that earned Alczar its trade, but beyond, the coast grew ragged once more. Reefs and sharp cliffs made the border between sea andnd hostile to ships, which consequently kept a healthy distance upon their journey to the city.


    A few enterprising locals provided the exception. With knowledge of how to sail the shallow waters, avoid the rocks, and reach coves hidden from sight, they had ample opportunity to smuggle goods into Alczar. The harbourmasters made thorough inspections of all wares entering the city by ship, collecting fees and tolls to fill the Kabirs coffers. Inparison, the guards at the gates paid little heed to peasants driving carts with what appeared to be wool, cotton, fish, grain, or the like.


    One moonless night, a boat rowed towards the shore. The darkness did not hinder the helmsman; he steered with firm hand past rocks and reefs until the vessel nearly touchednd. The oarsmen jumped onto the beach and pulled the boat the final feet ashore.


    A few other men, d in dark clothing, approached from between the cliffs. Some nods were exchanged in greeting before the men began hauling crates from the boat to a nearby cart.


    A short figure entered the water as well, but not to perform manualbour. Avoiding the other men, he approached the helmsman instead.


    Jawad, growled the smuggler. Whats amiss to bring you here?


    The rogue threw a purse of silver to the other man. Nothings amiss, but I need your services. Thats your coin for this run, and payment for bringing extra cargo with you back to Labdah.


    The sailor stowed the silver away inside his coat. Well, I got room in the boat. Whats the cargo?


    Me, Jawad replied, climbing aboard.

 Chapter 125: Hospitality

    Chapter 125: Hospitality


    Many settlements encircled the Mydlonde Sea; together, they were known to the Mearcians as the South Cities. Alczar was familiar to most; in part because it was thergest and most prosperous, in part because ity closest to Adalmearc. Gadir was famous for its incense, Surru for its pearls and purple dye. Labdah did not have the wealth or size of its rivals, but it was considered the oldest of them all. When Alczar was little more than a trading post, the jewellers of Labdah were renowned for their work with gems. Before Gadir was named, ships from Labdah crossed the seas to reach Adalmearc. At a time when only birds settled where Surru stood today, the alchemists of the Emerald Tower had long perfected their knowledge for creating elixirs and potions to cure or cause any ailment.


    Even if Labdah had been surpassed by its rivals in terms of trade, the harbour remained the heart of the city. The rest of its districtsy spread out like a semi-circle surrounding the docks. This included the bustling marketces with a thriving ve trade. Nearly daily, ships arrived to disgorge the unfortunate souls from their holds. From the docks, they were trotted in chains along one of the great avenues that cut through the various districts until they reached the vendors at the marketce. Here, guards herded them together in pens to be inspected by prospective buyers.


    Sitting in chains with his fellow sufferers, Garrick stared emptily ahead of him. He was surrounded by words he did not understand in a foreign city. On asion, the other ves he was shackled with stood up to be examined, and he simply followed their movements, standing up and sitting down as they did. Men and women, usually in expensive clothing, would move down the rows while letting their eyes run over the goods for sale. They would feel the muscles, tap the teeth with their fingernails, stare them in the eyes, and abruptly move on to the next one. Now and then, heavy purses of silver would be exchanged while shackles were unlocked, letting someone leave the row.


    Hanno! eximed one of the ve traders with a broad smile; the Suthspeech from his tongue came harsher and slower than it was spoken in Alczar. I have saved the finest for you.


    I never heard you use that line before, his customer muttered as his eyes swept over the ves for sale. You can spare me the honeyed words. Im not looking for a champion today, just some meat to fill the ranks.


    For the games, yes, yes, but you dont want to serve the audience a carcass, do you? The ve trader beamed a smile. Look at this! He gestured towards one of his items for sale. Captured near Surru aboard a pirate vessel. Hes sure to be a fighting man!


    Hanno shook his head. No honour among pirates. He cant be trained.


    This one, a mamluk from Alczar. Hes worth three times as much as Ill ask of you.


    Hanno gave the ve soldier a scrutinising look. How much?


    Two hundred, good master, and thats a bargain.


    Ill give you one hundred and fifty.


    Hanno, the trader protested. I paid that much myself! One hundred and eighty.


    One hundred and sixty, you dog, and itll be twice as much as you paid, Im sure.


    You are merciless, but I ept.


    Any other decent prospects? asked Hanno, eyeing the remaining ves.


    I have a man who was in the royal bodyguard in Gadir. Or perhaps someone younger? A child that you can mould as you see fit.


    What about him? Hanno gestured towards Garrick. Whats his profession?


    You have an excellent eye, the trader dered. He doesnt speak the civilised tongue, but he is one of the fearsome knights from the far north, trained from birth to be a warrior!


    Hanno took in the sight of the various scars that adorned Garricks body. You, he spoke in the Mearcian tongue, whats your name?


    The northerner blinked. Im Garrick.


    Are you a warrior? asked Hanno while the ve trader looked on anxiously.


    I am. Seven years in the Order, and more than that as a temple guard for the ckrobes. In fact, if you send word to them in Alczar


    Hanno turned towards the merchant. Hes no more a knight than my grandmother. Ill give you a hundred silver for him, despite your lies. If you try to haggle, itll be eighty.


    The trader licked his lips. He is yours for a hundred, good master. He nodded to his helpers, who began unshackling Garrick from the other ves. Shortly after, he and the other purchases were pushed along to follow their new master.


    ~~~~


    Life at the harbour of Labdah paused briefly when a galley, grander than most, made berth by the docks. It was built for speed, not cargo; it had two rows of oars andy high in the water rather than being burdened down. It also possessed a mast to catch the wind when beneficial, and above the sail unfurled the falcon banner of Alczar. Everyone watched as a princely procession left the ship, led by two men; a hefty number of blue-d soldiers followed them. They were greeted on the pier itself by a delegation from Labdah, offering them a wee and horses. The young noblemen returned the greetings and mounted the horses, beginning their entry into the city itself; around them, the dockworkers and ves resumed their tasks.


    Father thinks this town is worth an alliance? remarked one of the lords leading the column with poorly concealed contempt.


    Father thinks their ships are worth an alliance, the other corrected him. So should you, Jalil.


    I understand the situation perfectly, Jalil retorted. But Surru would have been an infinitely better choice for an ally. Even Gadir could offer more than Labdah.


    It is not as if we have free choice, his brother argued. Labdah has what we need, and they are more amenable to our influence.


    I am surprised. It has not been more than some five years since our fleet thrashed them on the waves. You would think the Elder Council would have more pride than to enter dealings with Alczar, Jalil considered.


    Undoubtedly, many of its members do. Fortunately, we only need one.


    Riding down the street, the Emerald Tower rose to their left. Ity at the centre of the city, visible from nearly anywhere thanks to its location and height. In the sun, its green stonework shone clearly. You think the snails will let us inside their precious tower? asked Jalil.


    I doubt it, and do not refer to the men of Labdah in that manner, his brother reproached him. We are their guests and must conduct ourselves ordingly.


    Calm down, Saif, came the casual response. I know what to do. And Father told me he expected me to see this through. You should have as much faith in me as he does.


    Saif gave a heartyughter. Did he now?


    What is so amusing? asked Jalil with a scowl.


    Father told me to make sure you would not ruin our ns, Saif grinned.


    As if I would believe that, sneered his brother.


    Why not? It sounds exactly like him, pitting us against each other.


    They passed a row of shackled ves, barely affording them a nce as they trotted down the street on the way to their destination. The princes of Alczar were the guests of one of the twelve members of the Elder Council, and his pce would be their home during their stay.


    As the procession reached the estate, the host himself stood upon the steps to bid them wee. My lords, I greet you most cordially.


    And fair greetings to you, Lord Hiram, Saif replied as he dismounted.


    Yes, well met, Jalil hurried to say.


    Their host was dressed almost entirely in green. While his words were warm, his voice was cold; his mouth smiled, but his eyes did not. Please, enter and seek shade. We shall take bread and salt, and there will be drinks cooled with ice from the mountains.


    Most gracious, Saif spoke.


    Indeed, Jalil added.


    We have much to discuss before the Evenday, but there shall be time for that, of course, Hiram continued as he led his guests inside the reception hall of his pce; the attendants apanying the princes, all of them armed, dispersed to the chambers prepared for them.


    Have our sisters been told of our arrival? asked Saif.


    They have. They will join us for the meal, Hiram promised. But you have had a long journey. Please, chambers and baths are avable. Once you are refreshed, we shall eat.


    ~~~~


    On bare feet and in chains, Garrick marched across the city to enter the estate of a merchant. Its size was modest, suggesting an owner enjoying prosperity within limits. It had several curious features to set it apart from the dwelling of a typical merchant, such as being ced far from the docks, where most other traders had their homes and warehouses. The walls surrounding this ce were higher and the gate better guarded; there was an open stretch ofnd on the inside of the walls, suggesting their purpose was as much to keep people in as to keep them out.


    Reaching the open courtyard, orders were barked to make the newly arrived ves stand still. Their chains were removed, and Hanno, their owner, addressed them. Garrick, unable to understand a single word, nced around instead. Wooden men meant for practising weaponry stood near one of the walls with weapon racks close by. Other instruments for training could be found as well. A guard stepped forward to hit Garrick in the back of the head, presumably for being inattentive; growling, the northerner returned his eyes to Hanno.


    One of the newly acquired ves made some remark. Upon a simple gesture made by Hanno, two guards seized him. With an expedience born of routine, they strapped him to the wall and tore the clothes from his back, leaving it exposed. One of them grabbed a whip with obvious, cruel delight, and upon a nod from Hanno began administeringshes.


    While the ve cried out in pain, Hanno turned to address his new purchases again. After tenshes, the punishment stopped, and the guards untied the wounded man to bring him inside.


    The other ves broke away from the line, moving towards arge trough of water. Before Garrick could follow suit, he was intercepted by Hanno. How much do you understand of ournguage? he asked the northerner.


    Nothing, Garrick admitted.


    Ajama, Hanno uttered with annoyance.


    My name is Garrick.


    Hanno gave him azy p across the cheek. Your name is what I say it is. In fact, being ajama, that is a fitting name for you. It will save me exining your situation over and over. He looked at Garrick touching the reddened skin on his cheek. You are not the first defiant ve to walk into this house, and you will not be thest. Do not entertain any foolish notions of escape or disobedience, and you will do well. Now go and wash yourself with the others. Hanno gestured towards where the other ves were crowded around the trough and turned on his heel, walking inside.


    ~~~~


    Like most pces in Labdah, Hirams estate was built like a hollow square. In this way, the central courtyard with its gardens was shielded from the dust and noise of the city, andrge sails could be raised across the open space to provide temporary shade. Where the shadows fell, a table rose with offerings from across the Mydlonde Sea and beyond. Fruits of any kind, meats from many birds, and cooled wine stood prepared for the guests of Lord Hiram.


    At the end of the table, the master of the pce awaited the arrival of his guests. The princes of Alczar greeted him as they entered the courtyard, wearing exquisite attire and sweet fragrances after the baths. Please, my lords, Hiram said in invitation, gesturing for the seats on either side of him. Jalil moved to stand at the right side while Saif took the left, leaving two seats remaining.


    Three more people arrived. Two were young women of obvious standing; the third was a mamluk, following them with one hand upon the hilt of his sword.


    Lady Dalia, Lady Jana, Hiram greeted them. Please, be seated.


    Sisters, Saif spoke with a smile. Salim, he added in a nod to their guardian, who responded mutely in the same manner.


    Saif, dearest, one of the women said to him, kissing his cheek and taking the seat by his side.


    It is good to see you, said the other, sitting down next to Jalil. Once the women had taken their seats, the men sat down as well, and attendants began serving the meal.


    This is my taster, Hiram told the princes while gesturing to a well-dressed ve standing behind him. He has been trained at the Emerald Tower, naturally, and he guarantees the safety of everything upon this table, whether it is the wine, the fowl, or even the smallest grape. The taster inclined his head in response. Please, eat, Hiram bade them. They all took a few pinches of salt, scattered it on a piece of bread, and ate it at the same time.


    With the ritual observed, general conversation ensued. You both look well, remarked Saif, looking at his sisters. I see our host has taken excellent care of you.


    We havecked for nothing, dered Jana, sitting opposite.


    Except forpany,ined Dalia. She had an obvious beauty that left none unaffected; it was only marred by the childish tone in her voice. We are so close to Alczar, yet you are the first visitors we have had from home in years!


    We have been very well, both of us, Jana said sharply with a look at her sister.


    When may we meet the Elder Council? asked Jalil of Hiram, ignoring the other conversation.


    Soon, my lord. In a few days time. Before the Evenday and all its  activities. Hiram cleared his throat.


    Our father expects the matter resolved by Evenday at thetest, Jalil stressed.


    I will argue in favour of a reply being given by then, Hiram promised, but surely if we must dy a day or two, it will not cause any problems.


    A day lost here and there may unsettle other ns, causing even further dy, Jalil imed, pulling the meat of a bird apart on his te. The exalted Kabir has certain expectations for Labdah that must be met.


    I can assure both you and your father, my lord, that I shall not fail to deliver on my end, Hiram replied pointedly, turning his attention to the remainder of his guests.


    ~~~~


    After a coarse scrubbing and receiving a worn tunic made of linen, the new ves at Hannospound were treated to a meal. They were not alone; at least a score of others marched out of the main buildings to line up. They each received a te of vegetables and a bowl of lentil porridge; for those first in line, there was also a ration of freshly baked bread. The hierarchy was clear, even to an outsider; the new ves waited untilst, and they had to settle for just the smell of the wheat bread pervading the area.


    There was not enough room either on the benches for all of the ves; some, like Garrick, resorted to eating standing up, while a few of the neers tried to grab a seat. This caused shoves and angry words to be exchanged. When it was on the verge of escting, several guards stepped in and dealt out blows on arms and legs with the staves they wielded. It quelled the fighting, forcing the newly arrived ves to give up any hope of sitting down, and the meal continued.


    Afterwards, the ves filed out to take positions by the training equipment scattered around the courtyard. Someughed and jested, others seemed dour in disposition. Garrick wavered, moving towards the others before halting himself, standing indecisively under the roof where the meal had been taken. Ajama! Hanno called out. It took a moment for Garrick to react. Thats him, Hanno remarked to hispanion and disappeared.


    The man left behind sized Garrick up. They were about the same in height and build; both of them stood out from the rest of the ves by virtue of their skin; one was paler, the other was darker. Youre the northerner, remarked thetter in Mearcspeech. I hardly needed Master Hanno to point you out.


    You know how to speak my tongue, Garrick stated with surprise.


    We are not all witless snails from Labdah here, came the reply loaded with disdain. I am from Alczar, and my name is Majid.


    Im Garrick.


    Youre Ajama, corrected Majid. A foreigner, one who does not understand. You will carry that name until Master Hanno feels you have proven otherwise, which I suspect will be never.


    Ill prove you wrong.


    Youll get the chance now. Tell me, Ajama, do you know the reason you have been brought here?


    Garrick looked around at the other men training weaponry. To practise fighting, obviously.


    To practise fighting on the sands, Majid stressed. Master Hanno trains warriors of the sand. You are to fight in the arena in the games held at Evenday.


    Thats soon!


    It is. Master Hanno does not expect much of you, either. See, in Labdah, the rules for fighting on the sands areplex. We are not savages like in the pits of Gadir, Majid exined with disdain. There are many different games, and the most prestigious of them all demands that warriors fight in pairs. One of these warriors must be unproven and unknown to the sands. You see your part.


    You and I are to pair up, I take it.


    Majid nodded. In this particr tournament, I will be the champion representing Master Hanno and his patron, Lord Hiram. Your task is to avoid dying or getting in my way while I bring us victory.


    I cant wait to risk my life with you by my side, Garrick snorted.


    You think you are the first man with fighting experience to think himself ready for the sands? Majids disdain was obvious on his face. Nothingpares. Do not presume to think youll be prepared.


    Garrick looked at guards scattered around the courtyard, ready to reward any gestures of disobedience with thesh. Keep underestimating me.


    Majid grinned. Did I mention that we will be fighting chained together?


    What in Hels name for?


    One of many things you will learn. Let me begin with this lesson. The tall southerner leaned forward to stare down at Garricks face. I am not your friend. I am not responsible for you. On the sands, we fight together, but in this ce, you stand alone. If you cannot do this, you will be pushed down, never to stand again. Learn this quickly.


    Himil, youre a friendly sort, Garrick muttered. Majid only responded with a contemptuous smile.


    A man with harsh features and what seemed an ill temper shouted at them in Suthspeech; from his lean body, he looked like a warrior of the sands, but his clothing marked him as above them in status. Majid responded quickly, bowing his head, and turned to look at Garrick again. Our weapons master. Enough talk! We are to begin practising. Come, Ajama! It is time you prove me right. He beckoned towards the training equipment and walked onto the courtyard. They spent the rest of the afternoon practising.

 Chapter 126: Doves and Falcons

    Chapter 126: Doves and Falcons


    The next morning, Garrick and his fellows were rustled from bed at dawn. They began the day with a thorough scrubbing of their bodies; given the high risk of scratches and small wounds, it was imperative to keep clean. Afterwards, they lined up for food, keeping the same pecking order as established yesterday; asst time, only the veterans among the fighters received bread and could sit down while eating. Each time one of the new ves tried to im a vacant seat, he was pushed away. Those that persisted received an elbow to the chest or face; once again, the guards had to intervene to prevent an outright brawl from breaking out. With the hierarchy among the ves reconfirmed, the meal was finished. The experienced fighters began their training straight after, practising well-known patterns while taking care not to push themselves beyond their limits.


    As for the neers, they were herded to the rooms serving as the sickhouse in thepound. The physician awaited them, questioning each ve about any physical weaknesses, examining their bodies if needed, and ensuring that yesterdays training had not unduly exerted them. Advice was given out along with a raised finger and demand for caution; one was to spare his ankle, another his knee, a third was told to keep a looser grip on the hilt, and so forth.


    To Garricks luck, the physician spoke a few words in Mearcspeech. Pain? he asked.


    Garrick shook his head. None. Just sore.


    Sore?


    Yeah, tired. My legs and arms. Theyre tired after yesterday.


    Take more breaks. Sharp pain?


    No, I told you, no pain anywhere.


    Many scars. Old wounds still hurt? The physician traced his finger over a few of the faded marks on Garricks chest.


    No, theyre all healed.


    Good. Get wounds when you train,e now. Not wait.


    I wont, Garrick promised.


    Good. The old man nodded towards the amulet that Garrick wore around his neck. Your god?


    Garrick closed his hand around the wooden pendant. Yes. Rihimil.


    Warrior god?


    Yes, he is.


    Good. Pray before fight. Go now. Train. The healer waved him off to examine the next.


    ~~~~


    At Hirams estate, the daughters of the Kabir had an entire wing at their disposal. This allowed them private bedrooms, a parlour for receiving visitors, and a dinner chamber where they took breakfast under the watchful, silent gaze of Salim, their mamluk protector.


    You would not mind staying home today, would you? asked Dalia. I want Salim to take me to visit Maharbal.


    I could have guessed, Jana replied. It is fine. I will stay and talk with Saif once he returns from hunting.


    It is good that our brothers are finally here to provide you with somepany. Since you do not seem so keen to spend time with Lord Hiram, Dalia cautiously said, peering at her sister while sipping cold soup.


    He is a fine man, Jana remarked tonelessly, breaking bread into small pieces. We simply do not have much to converse about.


    But Jana, dearest, what will you do when the two of you are married?


    I do not see how that would change much. I doubt Lord Hiram would begrudge me to continue living in this part of his estate. He does notck space.


    You would live as strangers? asked Dalia, sounding slightly horrified.


    Is that much different from the rtionship between our father and our mothers?


    Perhaps, Dalia granted reluctantly, but that is bound to happen to lesser wives. You will be Lord Hirams only wife! And he adores you, I know it.


    Jana coughed. Sure. She swallowed a ss of cider.


    I only want you to be as happy as I am with Maharbal, Dalia expressed with concerned eyes. If only you could feel the way I do, you would understand!


    Thank you, Dalia, her sister replied curtly. You need not worry yourself about me.


    I know you are not a stranger to such emotions, Dalia continued with a sly look. As I recall, before we had to leave Alczar, you were quite infatuated with a boy.


    Yes, thank you. I am done eating. Give Maharbal my regards, Jana said in hurried fashion, getting up.


    But you hardly had anything! Dalia called out, left behind to watch Janas swift retreat to her own chambers.


    ~~~~


    Under the eyes of the weapons master, Garrick was made to practise his swordsmanship. Besides a blunted de, he was given a round shield to fight with. Majid served as his opponent, armed with a shorter de and bigger shield.


    Move your feet faster! Majid roared at him, making a sweeping blow aimed at Garricks ankle.


    The blownded.


    Dont just block, push my sword aside! he reproached the northerner.


    Garrick attempted to do so, but found only air.


    Use that opening! hemanded.


    Garrick swung out, but missed.


    Toote! Look out! Majid pushed the edge of his shield against Garrick, knocking the wind out of his opponent.


    Wheezing for breath, Garrick tried to strike back.


    Too slow! Again!


    Garrick sneered and did so, hitting only shield and receiving a blow to his shoulder in return.


    Enough, Majid finally dered. As Garrick caught his breath and drank deep from a barrel of water, Majid left to confer with the weapons master.


    Looking around the courtyard, Garrick saw his own exertions reflected by the other pairs of fighters. There was a marked difference between those with experience and the neers. Only the mamluk who had been bought at the same time as Garrick was able to hold his own against his opponent. Seeing the northerners gaze upon him, the mamluk made a crude gesture towards Garrick.


    His observations were disrupted by the return of Majid. The weapons master and I agree.


    I cant wait to hear this, Garrick mumbled.


    You are out of practice, clearly, Majid told him. Like a knife grown dull fromck of use. Your reactions are slow, and you hesitate before each attack. You wouldst mere moments on the sands, which provides poor spectacle for the audience.


    Thats more important than whether I survive, I take it.


    Majidughed. You need not be concerned with that. You offer so little resistance, no true warrior of the sands would kill you. Theyd simply knock you down, and youd be smart to stay down.


    I thought these fights were to the death, Garrick mumbled.


    Did I not tell you? You will stand upon the sands in Labdah. Youre not fighting in the pits in Gadir!


    Well, until a month ago, I wouldnt have been able to tell the two apart!


    Then you better learn quickly! Majid impressed upon him. The games begin in but a few days, and by then I will have your dull edge sharpened! Nothing will keep me from being champion this year, or may Haktar curse us both!


    Commotion disrupted all activity in the yard. Hanno appeared with several guards. He spoke a few words, and his men crossed the enclosure with determined steps towards some of the fighters. Anxiety erupted among those in their path until the guards singled out one of the ves, seizing him.


    He was dragged to wooden poles that served only one purpose in the yard; they had stains of miscolour upon them from years of dried blood. Once the victim was tied up, one of the guards began the flogging. The ve screamed in pain while the others stared with a variety of expressions; sympathy, fear, disdain, or indifference could all be seen.


    While the punishment took ce, Hanno gave a brief speech to the audience. Whats he saying? asked Garrick.


    This ve spoke of escape, Majid exined. He tried to make ns with someone else to flee. The other ve told Master Hanno. He licked his lips. A good reminder not to trust anyone in this ce.


    Meanwhile, theshes continued.


    ~~~~


    A carriage left Hirams estate to cross the city. Its destination was another pce, no less grandiose. As the visitors arrived, they were weed and seen to with customary routine; while stable hands took care of their horses and equipment, wine was served in the reception hall.


    I shall inform my master of your arrival, the steward dered, leaving Dalia to take a seat with her ss of wine while Salim sent watchful looks in every direction.


    Soon after, a young nobleman appeared. Dalia, darling!


    Maharbal, my dove!


    Ever silent, Salim looked away pointedly with a strained expression.


    Had I known you wereing, my dearest, I would have prepared a celebration, Maharbal imed.


    I thought a surprise would be sweeter, Dalia told him. They touched hands and cheeks in greeting; as their touch lingered, Salim cleared his throat until they broke away. You must excuse Salim. He has been in a bad mood for days, she said in reproach.


    Good Salim, what on earth is the matter? Maharbal asked the mute warrior.


    He is grumpy that our brothers have arrived from Alczar, because it means his task in Labdah will soon be done, and he must return home, Dalia replied on his behalf.


    Yes, I heard of their arrival. Atst, Maharbal smiled. I have already informed my steward to make the preparations for a wedding.


    Afterst years dy, I was starting to lose hope, Dalia admitted, biting her lip.


    Lose hope? Never, my blossom, Maharbal told her, squeezing her hand. Since Salim was currently looking away again, the young man was not chastised for this. They could never keep us apart forever.


    How right you are!


    Now let us step inside and befortable. I am sure Salim would prefer us sitting down and less  excitable, Maharbal spoke with a smile as he turned and gestured for his guests to follow him. Tell me of your brothers. Are you happy to see them?


    It is funny, Dalia said as she and Salim walked into one of the many chambers for entertaining guests. I was so thrilled for them to arrive, but already life at Lord Hirams estate seems dull again. Both of them are busy, and Jana seems sullen  you know how she is.


    Your brothers are busy preparing for their meeting with the Council, no doubt, Maharbal considered, taking a seat after Dalia had done so. Salim remained standing behind her. I look forward to meeting them.


    That is true, you will meet them for the first time! Dalia pped her hands in excitement. I forgot you were on the Elder Council. I always think of grave, old men with long, white beards when I hear that name. You are much too young and interesting.


    Maharbalughed. My father would have fit your description. s that I had to inherit his seat already. I bless him for his wisdom, though, in seeking an alliance with yours.


    What if he had not? Dalia asked with sudden concern. Would we not be engaged? Would we never have met?


    Fear not, my blossom, Maharbal reassured her. I am sure our fates would have been entwined regardless.


    With deep exhtions, Salim kept his eyes on the wall, studying the intricate tilework.


    ~~~~


    Hannos fighters spent the afternoons with its unbearable heat in rxation between sparring. Their bodies and any possible injuries were tended to, and they ate hearty meals to fuel their training. Porridge from barley and oat, beans and other vegetables kept them better fed than most ves or even free men in Labdah. There was a variety of fruit as well, but like with the bread, there was only enough for some to eat their fill.


    Unable tomunicate much with the other fighters, Garrick stuck to Majid during the meal. Id kill for some meat, he grumbled.


    Meat makes you a slug, Majid chastised him. He was sitting on a bench while eating, whereas Garrick stood against the wall. You must be quick.


    Quick enough to run away from this food, Garrick muttered, stabbing his porridge with a spoon. Dont you ever miss meat?


    Ill grant you that. In fact, when I am free, Ill probably eat a whole cow, Majid grinned.


    You expect to be free?


    Of course. When I am made champion of the sands, Majid exined. Has nobody exined this to you?


    If you havent, who would?


    Right. Well, the winner of thest game at Evenday, in which well fight, will be granted his freedom, Majid borated.


    And we fight together, Garrick added. So if we win


    Majidughed, looking up from his seat at hispanion. Dont leave harbour without sails. Only the experienced fighter may be champion. The masters dont buy ves to immediately let them win their freedom, he grinned.


    Oh.


    It has taken me twelve years to rise to the position of being Master Hannos champion. Twelve years I haveboured for this. With luck, you may one day aplish the same.


    In twelve years. Garrick pulled a face. Why do you call him master? Theres nobody here wholl understand you.


    Why should I not?


    He made you a ve! He makes a profit on your captivity!


    Master Hanno didnt make me a ve. War did, Majid corrected him. I was taken in battle, and my own refused to ransom me. I could have been sold to the mines or the fields, but Master Hanno saw potential in me. Here, I am treated better than many free men in Labdah, and I have the chance to earn my freedom. Why should I not respect him?


    You have risked your life for twelve years, all so he can make coin! Garrick argued, pointing down at Majid with his spoon.


    So does a soldier guarding a merchants caravan, Majid countered. In the mines, I would have been put to work until death. Here, I have purpose and a future. Here, I am valued.


    Id rather be poor and free, Garrick dered. What will you do when youre free, then? Apart from eating a cow, he added with augh. Return to Alczar?


    I imagine so. These men of Labdah are not fond of men from Alczar. Defeating them in war will do that.


    Garricks eyes darted towards the guards before looking at Majid again. Would you be able to bring a message along?


    Majid shook his head. Such is forbidden.


    Just send them word that Im alive, Garrick implored him.


    Enough! The exmation made those nearby turn to stare at Majid, even if they did not understand the words exchanged. Do not forget this mornings lesson, he spoke through gritted teeth. In the yard, the flogged ve still remained, bound to the poles.


    Nearby stood the mamluk, who was a neer like Garrick and thus equally low in the hierarchy. He walked over to exchange words with Majid in Suthspeech, who eventuallyughed. With a contemptuous look towards Garrick, the mamluk licked his porridge spoon and walked away.


    What did he say?


    He asked why I dont let my friend sit next to me, Majid exined.


    What did you answer?


    I told him youre not my friend.


    Throwing me to the wolves? That fellows got a bad eye on me, Garrick growled.


    I told you. You stand or fall on your own in this ce. If he can gain the respect of others by pushing you down, he has every right to do so, Majid told him.


    Fine. Let him try, Garrick dered. Ive had plenty of men trying to kill me in my day, and Im still standing.


    Majid gave a sardonic smile. Few men like him, I wager. He is a mamluk  already years ahead of you in training.


    What in Himils name is a mamluk? You keep using that word.


    Your primitive tongue has no word for it. Majid licked his lips. He is a  a ve made soldier. Taken as a child, he has been trained all his life to fight. For him, life in this ce is nothing new.


    Garrick looked in the direction that the mamluk had gone. I was a man-at-arms in the Order. I dont fear someone whos lived his whole life a thrall.


    You should. Id bet my coin on him. Majid rose up. Its not just about training. He understands the rules of this ce, and he has the strength of will as required by those rules. You, youre too timid.


    Go to Hel.


    Majid smiled without warmth. Enough talk! Back to training. Evenday is soon.


    ~~~~


    Like any estate of its size, Hirams pce grounds contained extensive gardens and orchards with a variety of trees to provide shade. Surrounded by pear trees, Saif and Jana sat on a bench. As spring had barely arrived, nothing was yet in bloom, and the evening sun illuminated their faces with its remaining warmth.


    How was the hunt? asked Jana.


    Excellent. Father sent Lord Hiram his best falcon, and it proved a worthy gift. Lord Hiram was most pleased. We shall have a taste of its prey at next meal.


    Sounds wonderful.


    Where is Dalia? asked Saif.


    Visiting her intended, Jana replied. Where is Jalil?


    Who knows. Exploring Labdah, I imagine, or possibly with Lord Hiram.


    I see.


    Saif sent her an inquisitive look. You seem  strained when hearing his name. I noticed the same each time he spoke to you during the meal.


    I have no cause to be, Jana told him. I am treated with the utmost courtesy.


    You may have no cause, but it seems to be the case nheless. You are not happy here.


    Labdah is not Alczar. I miss home, that is all, Jana exined with a mirthless smile. I would have liked to see my mother again before it was toote.


    I am sorry you did not get the opportunity, Saif expressed with sympathy. But Lord Hiram seems to treat you well.


    He does, even if I suspect he has eyes for Dalia.


    Saifs demeanour darkened. Has he said anything to that effect?


    Not in the slightest, Jana was quick to reply. I could certainly be wrong. Enough about me! Tell me of yourself and Alczar, please.


    I would be happy to. My mother bade me send you her regards.


    She has always been kind.


    To you because you are no threat to me, Saif said wryly. She is not pleased that Jalil was sent with me to Labdah.


    She cannot honestly think your position is threatened?


    I am quite sure that has been the only thought in my mothers mind ever since our father had more sons than me, he remarked dryly.


    But you are the eldest and born to our fathers first wife. Surely none can take your ce. Least of all Jalil.


    I appreciate your confidence, but Father seems less certain. He has always found ways to make Jalil and mepete against each other. This journey to Labdah is simply another test, Saif exined.


    At least you are not facing the strongestpetition.


    This made Saifugh. I hope you are right. Jalil prides himself on his swordsmanship, but when does a ruler have need for such? Thest time Father saw battle was twelve years ago.


    They still speak of those battles here. Sentiments towards Alczar are hostile, Jana spoke. You will not find the Elder Council to be friendly in your negotiations.


    Wee well prepared, Saif assured her.


    Indeed, your retinue is farrger than I expected. You certainly have a high number of guards.


    As you say, this city is hostile.


    You should be worried about the wine in your cup rather than a de in your chest, Jana cautioned him. I have never seen any of these people eat or drink anything unless their own taster could guarantee it was harmless.


    That is unpleasant to think of. I shall be d to be back in Alczar once the negotiations are concluded, Saif admitted. I mean


    Jana raised a hand to calm him. I have had several years to grow ustomed to the thought. Alczar, Labdah  my life will be much the same regardless.


    Once the negotiations are concluded, I shall extend an invitation to Lord Hiram to visit Alczar, Saif proposed. It will strengthen our ties and lessen any lingering animosity. He will have to bring his new bride, of course.


    Jana gave a hollow smile. Of course.


    ~~~~


    The fighters finished their training in simr manner to how it was begun, by cleansing their bodies. Whereas it was a coarse scrubbing in the morning, baths were at their disposal in the evening, providing them with one of their fewforts. A loud, whistling sound from the weapons master gave the signal to conclude the training and enter the baths; as soon as they heard it, the veteran fighters visibly rxed and seemed joyful from anticipation alone. Stowing their blunt weapons and equipment, they hurried towards the baths; the neers followed their example.


    The bathhouse for the ves was a structure of its own with several chambers to fulfil its purpose. Worn from their exertions, the fighters first entered the cold room of the bathhouse directly from the yard. They stripped naked, cing their dirty tunics in a pile to be washed, and proceeded to line up for the troughs of cold water. Garrick stood patiently waiting behind the veteran fighters when a hand on his shoulder pulled him back. A foot extended behind his ankle sent him tumbling to the ground while all othersughed; among the southerners, none had sympathy for the Mearcian, and the other ves moved past him to begin their own washing.


    You stand or fall on your own, Ajama, Majid reminded him, moving to the next chamber. Forced to wait among thest, only sweaty rags and dirty water was left when Garrick could finally clean himself. Having done his best, he continued to the warm room, which had a pool of heated water. Once more, he was forced to stand and wait until his turn.


    When atst he could lower himself into the hot water, he gave a sigh of relief, stretching his arms and muscles. The other fighters did likewise, all enjoying the rxing effect of the heated pool. It was tempting to remain in the warm water, but a bath attendant kept sharp watch, ushering the men to the next room.


    The third chamber was the sweat room. The air was kept hot, and the men, already warm from the water in the previous room, quickly began to sweat as they walked around. A pool was ced here as well, but its water was unheated; once the fighters felt they were done sweating, they would enter the water to cool themselves before leaving the bathhouse.


    As before, Garrick entered the sweat room as thest. The other fighters were already done, leaving one after the other; the exception was the mamluk, waiting in the pool. Keeping eyes on him and distance between them, Garrick remained wary. The other fighter gave a scornful smile, seeing Garricks apprehension. He emerged from the water and stared at the northerner; retaining his expression, the mamluk relieved himself in the pool before leaving the bathhouse as well.

 Chapter 127: Sage Advice

    Chapter 127: Sage Advice


    As Labdah had no single ruler, there was not a royal pce either. And while the members of the Elder Council each tried to outdo their peers in disys of opulence and luxury, their meetings were held in a small, unassuming building. Its only virtue was that ity in the middle of the city. Besides that, it was one of its oldest buildings, second only to the Emerald Tower. It was in fact nothing more than a single,rge hall, serving as a gathering ce. It held no furniture other than a twelve chairs lined up next to each other. Upon them sat the Elders of Labdah.


    Despite what the name suggested, there was no age requirement to be among their number; only wealth and inheritance mattered. The Elders received their seat when their fathers died and retained it for life as long as they could pay a yearly sum, ensuring that Labdah would not suffer the indignity of having a pauper sitting on the Council.


    The Council did not meet regrly, but instead when matters required their attention. Summoned by Hiram, he and the other members sat on the twelve seats, staring at the great doors being opened.


    My lords, I present to you Prince Saif and Prince Jalil of Alczar, a herald announced, and the young noblemen entered. They were nked by mamluk guards and many ves carrying twelve chests.


    Be wee to our city, spoke one of the councillors. He wore a golden chain upon his chest with a great emerald as its pendant, surrounded by many smaller green gems.


    Thank you, Lord Mago, Saif responded. We havee to show Alczars respect to all the twelve lords of Labdah with these gifts. He gestured towards the chests.


    You will find delightful wine from the far north in each of them, Jalil added. That is, if your tasters will leave any of it to you. A few of the councillors smiled at the jest, including Hiram and Maharbal, whereas others looked upon the princes with barely concealed hostility.


    You can rest assured each of your gifts will be given scrutiny, Mago told them with a sardonic smile. As we have gathered at the request of Lord Hiram, is he to exin the purpose of this audience?


    We shall do so ourselves, honourable Lord Mago, Saif exined. On behalf of our father, the exalted Kabir of Alczar, we wish to begin negotiations to open trade between our cities.


    Trade that has been closed since your city dered war upon ours, Mago said pointedly.


    Five years has passed, Saif dered. We believe it is time to bury the past.


    As we had to bury our dead, sneered one of the councillors.


    War will always bring casualties. Peace may bring prosperity, Jalil interjected. It is that which we now offer.


    Labdah has always been prosperous, argued another Elder. We have no need of Alczar.


    Perhaps we should allow the princes to exin their proposal, suggested Maharbal. I would like to hear their offer.


    You would, came a sneering response.


    My lords, this is an audience. We will hear the emissaries, dered Mago, gesturing towards the princes.


    The exalted Kabir is prepared to give concessions on purple dye, gemstones, and perfumes. Every trader from Labdah will be given permission to buy and sell these goods, paying nothing but the same tariffs that our own merchants must pay, Saif exined. A few of the Elders stuck their heads together to exchange whispers.


    And what does the Kabir expect in return? asked Mago.


    The exalted Kabir has certain wishes regarding the purchase of timber, ships, and rted materials, Saif replied. All at a reasonable price, of course.


    Of course.


    All that can be discussed in detailter, Jalil inserted. You will find our proposal impossible to refuse, I assure you, my lords.


    The Council will consider and discuss your proposal, Mago informed them. We shall convene again to give you an answer whether Labdah is willing to open trade negotiations with Alczar.


    May I request we meet on the eve of Evenday? It would be an auspicious day. After the games are concluded, naturally, proposed Hiram.


    That is unusual, objected another councillor.


    Having the vote will take only a brief time, and knowing the result will give me peace of mind, allowing me to make future ns. I would be in your debt, Hiram continued, directed at Mago.


    Very well, I shall grant it, Mago replied. We convene after the games of Evenday.


    Our thanks, Saif expressed with a bow before he and Jalil left, leaving twelve chests behind.


    ~~~~


    At the morning meal, Garrick looked towards the few empty seats on the benches. One of them was next to Majid. ncing at the other fighters standing up while eating, Garrick took a deep breath, straightened his back, and walked over to the benches with determined steps, sitting down next to Majid. The veterans looked at both of them; when Majid did not react, neither did they.


    Having conquered his seat, Garrick eagerly dug into his food with a firm grip on both bowl and spoon; seeing him shovel the porridge into his mouth caused a few smiles. He was halfway through his portion when someone grabbed him by the neck of his clothes and yanked him backwards. He fell to the ground,nding on his back with porridge scattered all over him. Dispersedughter could be heard. Looking up, Garrick saw the mamluk calmly take his seat.


    Everyone watched in anticipation as Garrick stood up. He picked up his now empty bowl and moved to stand next to the mamluk. Hey, fellow.


    The mamluk slowly turned his head to stare at Garrick and spoke in Suthspeech.


    I dont understand you, Garrick told him. I just wanted your attention. I dont hit a man from behind. His fist struck the mamluk on the throat, and the man copsed, gasping for air.


    This sparked all manner of reactions, most of all amusement and excitement. One fighter, apatriot of the mamluk, jumped forward with clenched fists.


    Come at me, Garrick roared. With his own fist inside the bowl like a primitive glove, he used its wood to strengthen his punch on the other mans chin. Both man and bowl fell to the ground.


    The guards intervened; some carried the mamluk to the physician, while others restrained Garrick. They had little need; his point made, Garrick willingly followed them.


    They took him to a small room without windows and left him, bolting the door from the outside. He needed only wait a brief while before it was opened again to admit Hanno inside. Hitting a man on the throat can kill him.


    Not the first time Ive done that. If I wanted him dead, Id have hit harder.


    Hanno looked at him with scrutiny. Regardless, if you ever kill or maim one of my fighters, Ill have you whipped bloody. Bear that in mind next time you consider how hard to hit.


    Of course, Garrick promised with a nk expression.


    Since you were provoked, well let that be the end of it. See the physician and make sure your hand is not damaged. Then back to training, Hannomanded him.


    Very well. Garrick stood up.


    Without warning, Hannos hand struck him across his face, harder than he had done so on Garricks first day. I am your master, and you will address me as so. The sooner you get ustomed to your new life, the better.


    Garrick licked his lips; one of them was bleeding. Yes, master, he uttered with reluctance, leaving for the sickhouse.


    ~~~~


    Moving from her personal chambers, Jana passed through the parlour, where Salim sat. Upon seeing his charge, he straightened up and sent her a questioning look.


    I am merely going for a walk in the gardens before the dinner tonight, she told him.


    He pointed towards himself with another question in his eyes.


    Why not. I would not mind thepany.


    He got up and joined her. Together, they passed through corridors and reached the gardens that extended around the estate. The ground was mostly barren, but a few stubborn flowers bloomed early. Walking at a leisurely pace, they kept mostly to the trees that offered shade from the afternoon sun.


    Salim made a few gestures.


    I know, Salim. I do not want you to leave either.


    An apology.


    It is hardly your fault. You belong to my father. The decision is his.


    The apology was repeated, followed by a question.


    I do not know. I think my father wants to wait until the Elder Council has agreed to open negotiations. Once that is done, I imagine the wedding will be soon after.


    A reassuring remark.


    Thank you. Who knows? Perhaps I could ask that you be my fathers wedding gift, she suggested with a mournful smile.


    Salim grinned and gestured again.


    You tter yourself, she told him. Though I will admit you are a good listener. You never interrupt.


    Barkingughter emitted from Salims mouth until Jana joined in.


    Abruptly, she turned to hug him tightly. Thank you, Salim. You have made Labdah bearable.


    With her head against his chest, he could not speak further to her, so he simply responded by stroking her hair.


    ~~~~


    Returning from the physician, Garrick found Majid waiting for him, wearing a smile and carrying shackles in his arms. I dont know what frightens me most, those chains or that grin, Garrick muttered.


    A few days ago, you were born anew as a fighter of the sands. Today, we get to watch you stumble as a newborn, Majidughed. Its time you learned how to fight in chains.


    I cant wait.


    Manacles were locked around his and Majids ankles. Between them ran about ten feet of chains. Opposite stood two others of Hannos fighters, armed with spears. The weapons master called out, and they began.


    To the side, Garrick could glimpse movement and hear the chain on the ground move. Ahead, a spear was thrust against him. He hurried to block with his shield. Seeing an opening, he readied his sword and stepped forward  only to stumble as the chain pulled him backwards.


    Withughter resounding around him, Garrick steadied himself, defending against another spear assault. Each time he attempted an attack of his own, the chain hindered his movements. His opponent, wielding the longer reach, did not suffer the same problem. Sneering, Garrick tried another futile blow, lunging forward only to miss again. His reward was a blow to the head with the blunt end of the spear; if not for his helmet, he would have been unconscious on the ground.


    The weapons master barked an order, andbat ceased. Majid turned towards hispanion in chains. You did what we all did the first time. Frustration builds, and you attack without thought.


    Hes got a bloody spear! Garrick yelled. Why cant I have one?


    There are rules, Ajama. Master Hanno has chosen, quite sensibly, the northern style for you. You fight with their long des and round shields, with their markings on your face and skin, Majid exined.


    What, like some damn inder? Im not even from Thusund!


    It makes no difference to the crowd. They expect certain things, certain ways. It would have been best if you were blond, but itll do. Not many fight in the northern style on the sands, and the crowd will be thrilled to see you.


    I bet the rest get to fight in the style with spears, Garrick grumbled.


    Majid gave him a grin. Back to it, Ajama! And learn fast. Tonight you will be put to the test.


    ~~~~


    To celebrate the auspicious moment of ties between Alczar and Labdah being renewed, a feast was held at Hirams estate. Apart from his foreign guests, several of Elders were invited, including Maharbal, and many of the merchants that Hiram conducted business with.


    For a celebration of this size, three things were required. Entertainment, copious amounts of food and drink, and sufficient people to serve it. Additional guards had been hired as well, ensuring the safety of Hirams high-ranking guests. All in all, the corridors of his pce were swarming with people.


    You! a guard called out. Down the hallway, a servant turned around slowly. What are you doing here?


    Just bringing this wine to the hall before the banquet, came the reply. He gestured with the small barrel in his arms.


    I havent seen you before, the guard continued, narrowing his eyes.


    Im a nephew to old Tylos. He said you needed more servants for tonight.


    The guard scrutinised him once more. Youre going the wrong way, he said. Halls that way.


    Much obliged.


    And keep out of here! the guard warned him.


    I certainly shall, Jawad promised, leaving with his barrel.


    ~~~~


    Thergest hall in Hirams pce was packed with dignitaries, all of them sumptuously dressed. Countless tables stood filled to the brim with all manner of dishes, the goblet of every guest overflowed with wine, and a troupe of dancers and musicians in the middle of the hall provided amusement for all.


    The guests of honour, the sons and daughters of the Kabir, were seated on sofas near their host along with the few Elders who hade. Saif was engrossed in discussions with another guest while Jalil entertained several with tales from Alczar. Dalia had only eyes for her betrothed, Maharbal; Jana made polite conversation. Like the queen of a beehive, Hiram was at the centre of all this activity, exchanging gestures and smiles, raising his cup of wine in acknowledgement, and everything else required of a host.


    When the musicians stilled their instruments and the dancers rested their feet, Hiram finally rose and raised his hands for silence. Good people of Labdah, honourable guests from Alczar, I bid you all wee to my halls! Everyone responded with various noisemaking. Evenday approaches, and true to custom, it shall be celebrated with games! Cheers issued from the crowd. To do my part ensuring the games are worthy of our great city, I have chosen to patronise several warriors to fight on the sands. To give you all a taste tonight, my client, Master Hanno, has brought his best fighters to perform for you. Good men and women of Labdah, please enjoy the spectacle I bring you!


    Confident and at ease, Majid walked with self-assured steps into the space vacated by the dancers; chained to him, Garrick followed suit with less certainty in his gait. Patterns were painted upon his face, and the head of a horse adorned his round shield; his helmet had guard for both nose and eyes in the inder fashion. From the other side, another pair stepped into the circle to face them. Garrick gave a slight groan at seeing the spear aimed at him.


    Of all the games, this is the most ancient custom, Hiram dered. Champion and beginner, veteran and squire, bound in chains! Let the brotherhood of the sands be tested and see who has the stronger bond. Fight!


    As the crowd cheered, the warriors fell into position opposite each other. In an instant, any conceit or attention towards the spectators was gone; all four focused on their counterpart. The tensionsted for a moment before it was shattered at the sound of spears and swords against shields.


    The confined space and their shackles kept their four men close to each other; Garricks frustration at fighting a spearman was mirrored by said opponent, who did not have the room to make full use of his reach. This resulted in a stalemate; neither couldunch an effective assault on the other.


    Garrick risked a nce towards Majid and found him locked in closebat with a flurry of blows being exchanged; his opponent immediately sought to punish his moment of inattention. Wielding the spear like a staff, the blunt end came against his head, and Garrick barely had time to raise his shield in deflection. He struck out with his sword, more on instinct than anything else; the shorter reach of his de posed no threat to his foe.


    The spearman made further jabs against Garrick, seeking to strike at his legs, arms, temples, or anywhere the shield would not protect. Forced to defend, the northerner danced a merry pattern to avoid being struck, causingughter among the onlookers.


    With his situation looking futile, Garrick changed strategy. As the tip of the spear came against him, Garrick dropped his shield while evading, using his now free hand to grab the shaft of his enemys weapon. He pulled it closer, aided by his opponents momentum from the strike forward. With sudden despair on his face, the spearman found himself up close against Garrick, who aimed a kick against his stomach. Already out of bnce, Garricks opponent fell backwards and looked up to see a de pointed at his chest. From every corner of the hall, the cheers of the crowd flooded towards the centre.


    Garrick turned to find Majid with a grin, having vanquished his own enemy. You couldnt have helped? he shouted over the noise.


    This was your first fight, Ajama. I wouldnt dream of interfering, his partner told him with a smile. Now raise your weapon and salute the audience! Without them, we are nothing.


    ~~~~


    A magnificent spectacle! Jalil dered.


    Agreed, Saif added.


    Hiram nodded to them both, graciously epting their praise. I am pleased you think so. You shall see even better at the games.


    What do you think, my darling? Maharbal asked of Dalia. Should I do as Lord Hiram and be patron of fighters such as these?


    Only the interesting ones. Like that northerner! Or someone from the south. Those from the Inner Sea are boring, she dered.


    What do you think, Sister? asked Saif.


    I think the spearman was a fool who squandered his advantage against the ajama. He will not fare well at the games, Jana replied.


    This is so typical, Dalia interjected. You can never show or tell anything to Jana. She is incapable of simply enjoying it. She always looks for something to criticise.


    It depends on thepany, Jana muttered.


    I have never seen men fighting while chained together, Jalil said loudly. What custom is this?


    It is our oldest tradition when ites to the games, Maharbal exined. Behind him, Jawad came up to fill his cup, scrutinising the nobleman as he did so. None seemed to notice his presence.


    Born of an old legend, Hiram borated. Our people came to Labdah, it is said, fleeing another tribe. Reaching the sea, they could flee no further and had to fight. They chained their warriors together, to remind every man that there could be no further flight. We honour our ancestors each year through our games in this manner.


    Most exciting, Jalil stated. I cannot wait to see the fights!


    It is undoubtedly the finest of the games, Maharbal spoke. The shackles change everything.


    Lord Maharbal is correct, Hiram assented. The chains impose a physical bond between the fighters, much like the bond they must build in order to fight side by side effectively. It has always left me to wonder one thing.


    What is that? asked Saif.


    What would happen if such two were to fight each other.


    ~~~~


    After their performance, the fighters were led to the servants quarters. Baths and cloth for cleaning were prepared, letting them recover after their fight.


    You fought well, Ajama, Majid acknowledged, wiping sweat from his body. You fought smart. Thats how you win on the sands.


    I didnt serve seven years in the Order for nothing, Garrick grinned. Though it was quite different than this.


    Something we all have to learn. Fighting on the sands is not like anything you have known before.


    Right now, my thoughts are on water, not sand, Garrick jested, submerging himself into a bathtub with a sigh of satisfaction.


    Youve earned it this night, so enjoy. Tomorrow, we must earn it all anew, Majid told him and focused on his own efforts to be clean.


    Who is this man that he summoned us for his amusement? Garrick asked.


    Lord Hiram. He is patron of our master and sits on the Elder Council. He is both rich and powerful, Majid exined.


    Never heard of patrons before in this sense.


    Lord Hiram helps Master Hanno gain influence. In return, the victories and glory won by Master Hannos fighters reflect upon Lord Hiram, Majid borated patiently.


    So he is like a nobleman, and Hanno is his vassal, Garrick contemted.


    Master Hanno, Majid corrected him. Yes. He lowered his voice. Between you and me, Lord Hiram has need of polishing his reputation.


    Garrick sat up in his bathtub with piqued interest. Oh?


    Many years ago, Lord Hiram was not an Elder, but he had close dealings with one of them. Nobody knows the details, but this Elder began to suffer ill luck in his trades. As his partner, you would expect Lord Hiram to suffer alongside him, but instead, he prospered to the point that when the Elder was found dead by his own hand, Lord Hiram had the coin to buy his debts and his seat on the Council, Majid spoke quietly.


    So thats why hes throwing coin at someone like Hanno, Garrick considered.


    Majid nodded. There is no faster way to earn the peoples favour than through the games. Rising from his bathwater, Majid moved away and began to dry himself while humming a tune.


    A servant entered with a bucket of hot water and began to slowly pour it into Garricks bath. Dont be startled.


    Despite the request, that is exactly what happened to Garrick upon hearing Mearcspeech. You


    Quiet, Jawad mumbled, ncing at Majid. I must be brief. I am a friend of the ckrobes. I aim to free you.


    Gods be praised, Garrick whispered.


    At the night of the Evenday celebrations, Jawad instructed him. When people are distracted. Be ready. Draw no suspicion until then. Just survive. Understood?


    Yes, Garrick assented. Jawad emptied the rest of the bucket and left.


    Did you say something? Majid asked loudly from the other side of the room.


    Nothing at all.


    ~~~~


    The hour waste when Hirams guests began to retire. They were not expected to return home; naturally, his pce had luxurious guest rooms to amodate all. Among them was Maharbal, Elder of the city and Dalias betrothed. Stumbling into his poorly lit room, a servant waited to help him remove his clothes.


    Swaying slightly from drink, Maharbal stretched out his arms to let the servant do his work. Lord Maharbal, I presume. My master wished for me to convey a message.


    Really? I just left him, Maharbal mentioned, blinking with his eyes. He could have just told me.


    Forgive me, I serve another than Lord Hiram. My master is an associate of yours, or rather, your illustrious father. After his sad passing, you have continued your dealings with my master, thereby retaining the same profits  and debts.


    Maharbal squinted in the dark. Amp oil burned on the nearby drawer, which was not enough to illuminate the man before him. This is hardly appropriate. A written message or a messenger sent to me in my own home would be the correct way, he sniffed. Who is your master?


    He keeps to the shadows, but he hopes you would know him nheless, sidi. When war broke out between Alczar and Labdah, your father was quick to see the benefit of maintaining trade despite hostilities.


    You are talking about smuggling, Maharbal dered before mping his lips together. Hardly a topic for civil conversation, he added with a hiss.


    Hence my appearance at this hour, the servant pointed out.


    So, your master is  him? The Prince of Cats?


    He is. I havee to remind you of debts owed to him, sidi.


    What debts? Goods and coin are sent both ways in equal measure. He is owed nothing, Maharbal imed.


    In terms of that arrangement, this is true, the servant admitted. Recall, sidi, some years ago when the Kabir was looking for allies among the Elders of Labdah. With the aid of my master, strings were pulled, and you were chosen to be the intended husband for Lady Dalia.


    Maharbal swallowed. There is no need to involve her in this.


    I agree. I simply require your help, sidi, as repayment of the help my master gave you years ago.


    And what manner of aid might a master such as yours demand? The question was spoken nearly with a sneer, but Maharbals expression did not match the confidence in his voice.


    ess, sidi. You will provide me with letters of introduction, marked with your seal, and you will bring me along to certain ces.


    Maharbal nced over the man in front of him. In the dark, he could discern little; only the voice told him that the servant was some fifty or sixty years of age. How do I know you are not lying?


    Who but the Prince and his servants would know of your arrangement? Besides, those who im to serve the Prince are rarely given time to regret their mistake.


    Maharbal bit into his lip. Fine. I will do as your master wants.


    Excellent. I shall seek you out in your own pce soon. Do not be rmed if I arrive unannounced. I prefer the shadows. With a barely visible smile, Jawad retreated out of sight.


    ~~~~


    As night descended upon Labdah, six men carried a litter through the streets towards the very centre of the city. Another six guards kept the way clear, allowing for easy progress all the way unto the Emerald Tower. The green stones reflected the pale moonlight, colouring it and drawing attention to the building. Outside its grand doors, the litter stopped, and the bearers lowered their burden to allow Elder Mago to leave. Once on his feet, he adjusted his clothing along with the great emerald ne on his chest and took a bundle from his litter. Nodding to his guards, he proceeded alone into the Tower.


    Inside, he walked up the spiral staircase thaty in the middle of the structure. On every floor, he passed by doors guarding knowledge forbidden for outsiders. Each of them had symbols of alchemy upon them. At times, sounds reached him. Voices spoke incantations, yelled in arguments, or at times gave screams. Every now and then, strong smells would assault his nose, ranging from sulphur to perfume. Despite these signs of others, Mago saw none upon his progress.


    Near the top, he knocked softly upon one of the many doors of the Tower. Enter, came a voice so soft, it was barely audible.


    Mago did as bid. I hail you, sage of the tower.


    Hail, Eldest. The other man was so advanced in age, his skin seemed like leather upon his bones. His head appeared as little more than a skull with a long beard. The only sign of vitality from him was his eyes that glistened in the candlelight.


    Mago extended the bundle in his arms. I would ask you to examine this for poison.


    Putting on a pair of gloves, the alchemist received the bundle and unpacked it. Insidey jewellery and small sks with different liquids. Gifts for you?


    Mago nodded. From Alczar.


    Poison is far too subtle for those peacocks, scoffed the sage. If they wanted you dead, they would use a de, Im quite sure. He picked up one of the bottles and brought it to his worktable. The walls were lined with shelves upon which stood countless liquids, powders, and jars containing everything imaginable. Eyeballs, shrivelled hearts, ws and fangs, and many other things that could not be identified.


    That is no reason to be careless, countered Mago. The Elder of the city took seat upon one of the few pieces of furniture in the room.


    Nor was there a reason for you toe in person, the alchemist pointed out, pouring different liquids together.


    I want you to read the gold, Mago admitted.


    The old sage sent him a look. You are really worried.


    There is more at stake than merely opening trade between our cities, the Elder considered. They have need of us, it seems, but I do not understand the urgency. I want to know if their offer can be trusted.


    Let us read the gold first. I can finish the examinationter, the sage suggested, gesturing for Mago to approach while he prepared a few things. You have a coin?


    Of course. Mago took out a gold coin stamped with the falcon of Alczar.


    The alchemist took out a needle and a small sk. Payment first. Obliging, Mago stretched out his hand and let one of his fingertips be pricked. Blood began to drip, which the alchemist caught with the sk. Sealing it and putting it away, he took the coin from Mago and ced it in a bowl, letting more of Magos blood drip onto the gold. He found a jar containing paste and used a bit of its content to put on the small wound, stemming the flow of blood.


    Releasing his hold on Magos hand, the alchemist opened another bottle and carefully let a few drops spill onto the bloodied gold coin. It hissed and began to melt the metal. Soon after, the coin was nothing but liquid, and the sage swirled it around the wooden bowl with his hand. He stared intently before looking up at Mago. The omen is bad.


    That is all I needed to know, the Elder replied. I will convince the Council to deny Alczar.


    Will it be that easy?


    Hardly, but I am not Eldest without reason, Mago dered. They have Maharbal and Hiram in their pockets. Hiram has always desired this, he continued, touching the emerald pendant on his chest. He cannot have been hard to convince. But the rest of the Council will not bend so easily to this upstart Kabir and his sons.


    As you say, the alchemist assented, putting his jars and bottles into order. And if the princes will not ept a refusal?


    I will be back to purchase your skills once again. All men must eat and drink, after all, even princes.

 Chapter 128: Building Ships

    Chapter 128: Building Ships


    In the house of Hanno, the new fighters were bing ustomed to their routine, especially as they found their ce among the veterans, and fewer arguments broke out. When such happened, it was settled in the training yard, and few held grudges afterwards. An exception was the mamluk, who stared with ill intent upon Garrick whether they were bathing, eating, or training.


    Ignore him, Majid suggested. They were taking a break from this mornings practice, refreshing themselves with cool water. You have the respect of the rest, which is more than I expected from one of the ajam.


    Having many friends is good, but it only takes one enemy to bring you down, Garrick muttered, sshing water onto his face.


    Yet its your friends that betray you, never your enemies. You cant defend against the de you never seeing, Majid countered.


    Youre so cheerful. Im d were not friends, Garrick retorted, softening the remark with a grin.


    As you should be! Was I your friend, Id hide the truth about your pitiful performance. Luckily, I am happy to tell you that you might improve.


    Lucky me.


    You still hesitate before you strike. It must be instinct, Ajama, instinct!


    Im going to do my best that we might win on Evenday, Garrick promised. Since that seems my best chance to be rid of you.


    Whatever motivates you, Majid replied; his grin appeared behind the rag he was wiping sweat and water from his face with. Who knows? In years time, you may be the champion winning freedom and fame on Evenday.


    Years, Garrick scoffed. Ill y this game for now, but Im not sticking around that long.


    You wish so badly to return to your northernnds? Is someone waiting for you?


    No, nothing like that, he admitted. Well, at one point, there was a girl back home.


    Majid grinned. There always is in these stories.


    I joined the Order for a campaign. Get some silver, enough to start a new life somewhere. It was just meant to be for a summer or two.


    I take it that wasnt what happened.


    Garrick shook his head. Campaign dragged on for years. Letters stopped arriving from home. I never went back  stayed with the Order for a full seven years and became a temple guard after that.


    All I hear, Majid began to say, is that you have nothing waiting for you at home. That in fact, here on the sands you may for the first time in your life aplish something of worth. Before Garrick could reply, the veteran fighter put his helmet back on. Back to training! Words wont win us any fights.


    ~~~~


    In the parlour of their private wing, Jana sat reading a book. It was slightly worn, as she had brought it with her from Alczar and read it many times over the years. In the vicinity, Dalia was pacing around. At the door leading out of the wing, Salim stood watch.


    Perhaps I should retire to my chamber, Jana considered, closing her book.


    What? Why?


    Dalia, have you ever tried reading with someone circling you?


    Do not be silly, dearest, you know I never read.


    That was foolish of me, Jana admitted, standing up.


    No, do not leave me! Dalia moved to block her path. If you leave me alone, I shall go mad!


    It seems toote for that, her sister remarked.


    I need yourpany to distract me! Besides, you have read those boring old poems time and time again. It is no harm for you toy those aside andfort me in my time in need. Some might even say it is your duty, Dalia sniffed.


    I shall overlook yourment on al-Tayir, Jana told her pointedly. And while I will regret asking, I ept my fate. What has you in such a state?


    It has been more than an hour since Maharbal came to visit, and he is still with Lord Hiram! Exasperation filled Dalias face. Salim, will you please go and find out if they have finished their discussion?


    My dear, I am sure Maharbal wille here the moment they are done. There is no need to inconvenience Salim, Jana pointed out. By the door, Salim waved his hands in front of him, indicating that he was only too happy to leave. Very well. Go on, Jana told him. Traitor, she mouthed at him; with a relieved expression, Salim left the chamber.


    I simply cannot understand what would take them so long! Dalia eximed in frustration.


    They are both Elders of the Council with an important decisioning up. Of course they have matters to discuss, Jana reminded her.


    I thought it was a simple matter. Why would the Council be opposed to cordial rtions between Labdah and Alczar? You and I will marry two of the Elders, it seems a formality by now. Dalia sat down on a sofa, looking perplexed.


    Two of the Elders out of twelve. That is very far from securing our father the alliance he wants.


    Alliance? I thought this was simply about putting the wars of the past behind us, Dalia said with confusion.


    You do not know our father very well, do you.


    I never spent much time with him. Dalia gave a shrug.


    As long as I can remember, Father has been obsessed with Adalmearc.


    Those wild men from the north? Laughter issued from Dalia.


    Annoyance moved across Janas face, disappearing again. Those wild men have the best steel in the world, and their knights are a match for our mamluks in war.


    Surely that cannot be a problem. I would wager Salim could handle any of these knights in a fight.


    Maybe, Jana granted, but for each Salim, the Realms have ten knights. Anyway, that is beside the point.


    Does this lecture have a point, then? asked Dalia.


    Their ships control the trade between theirnds and our city. Furthermore, most goods in our city must be sold to Adalmearc  they are far more numerous than the cities around the Inner Sea. If the northerners wanted, they could extinguish all trade and starve us of coin, Jana exined patiently.


    But they would hurt themselves as well! Dalia pointed out eagerly. They would not receive any of the goods we sell to them!


    True, but those are luxuries. Silk, cotton, spices, and the like  the Realms would survive without such trade. Left without the coin from northern trade, not to mention northern timber and iron, Alczar wouldnguish.


    You say luxuries, but really, can you imagine living through summer without wearing silk? Dalia assumed a superior expression. Or imagine having food without spices! People would riot, I am sure.


    Jana took a deep breath. I think I hear Maharbal in the hallway. You should go and see. Without hesitation, her sister leapt from the sofa and hurried to look.


    ~~~~


    Hiram sat in a soft chair, leaning back. A ve appeared, serving a cooled drink on a tray. There is no need for this excitement, Hiram dered, taking a sip from the ss offered to him.


    How can you be so calm? asked Maharbal. The Council is meeting soon, and at least half of them are opposed to our proposal! He was too agitated to sit down or even stand still, walking around the luxurious chambers where Hiram received visitors.


    We only need the other half, Hiram dered calmly.


    We need more than that! I sincerely doubt that Elder Mago would decide a tie in our favour, given he is among those opposing us, Maharbalined.


    Of course, I simply meant it matters not if some oppose us, the other nobleman rified with slight irritation. We have the support we need.


    How can that be? I have discussed the meeting with several of the Elders, and they all seem staunchly opposed.


    As I instructed them to be, Hiram exined patiently, else Mago would find out and pressure them to support him instead. I do not intend to show my ledger beforehand. Better to keep the old man in the dark.


    You are certain it is Elder Mago and not you who are being deceived?


    Yes, Hiram dered confidently. Now calm yourself. I have the matter well in hand.


    Our future depends on this. Neither of us can expect the Kabir to let us wed his daughters if we cannot secure this for him.


    In that case, I suggest you trust me, Hiram told him brusquely. Would that be all? I do have preparations to make before the meeting.


    Maharbal swallowed before inclining his head. Very well. I trust you, Lord Hiram.


    Good. May I suggest you go and visit your betrothed? I am sure she would be delighted.


    I shall follow your suggestion. With a slight bow, Maharbal turned to leave. Outside in the hallway, Jawad removed his ear from the door and resumed his pretence as an unremarkable servant to Maharbal.


    ~~~~


    In one of the courtyards, the princes of Alczar were exchanging blows. As the des were blunted, there was little danger involved; the worst that either received was a few bruises. At length, Saif raised his hand. Enough, he called out, catching his breath.


    Have you had enough? While his breathing was also bboured, Jalil had the energy to smile.


    No need to over-exert ourselves, little brother, Saif replied, speaking the familial term with gentle mocking. We have important days ahead of us.


    I am hardly exerted, Jalil bragged, swinging his sword in a few circles. But as you wish. They both handed their weapons over for one ve to stash away, while others approached with cloth and cups of wine. I am d this is soon over. This city has little excitementpared to Alczar.


    What city canpare with Alczar? asked Saif, wiping his sweat away. He gave the cloth back to the ve and took the cup of wine. Though we may be unfair. The games at Evenday promise a spectacle to remember, I am sure.


    His brother mirrored Saifs movements, wiping himself dry before letting the cloth fall to the ground, where the ve immediately removed it. I suppose. I will admit, the thought is exciting, but I am unsure if it will truly satisfy. From what I hear, they do not fight to the death. He emptied his goblet of wine in one draught, holding it out again that it might be refilled. I imagine that dulls the affair. You cannot expect the fighters to truly give their best if their lives are not at stake.


    I am not sure about that, Saif considered. At Lord Hirams feast, the fighters gave us a splendid spectacle, and that was merely for our benefit. Imagine when they actually fight on the sands in front of the entire city.


    I did not expect to learn anything from these poison peddlers, Jalil admitted, sipping from his wine again, but perhaps we should consider hosting games in Alczar.


    If you think you can persuade Father. I imagine he has other things on his minds.


    I can be persuasive, Jalil imed. Not to mention, Father will not be the Kabir forever. I do not doubt his sessor will see the wisdom of my ideas. His self-satisfied smile left no doubt as to whom he imagined the Kabirs heir would be.


    Do not sail before the ship is built, little brother, Saif warned, turning on his heel to leave the yard.


    At least I am building mine, Jalil muttered, staring at his brothers back.


    ~~~~


    At the end of another training day, Garrick returned to his cell after he had washed and bathed. He knelt by the cot serving as his bed, sping the pendant he wore around his neck.


    Rihimil, he prayed, clutching the wooden carving of the god, I have always revered you above all others. Grant me victory, I beg of you. See me through the trials ahead. Keep your wing over me through this Evenday, and I shall bring you tribute on that day all my years. Let me have a second chance, and I shall cherish it. Give me the opportunity to atone.


    Keep praying, sneered a voice by the door. It was the mamluk, staring down on Garrick with malice.


    Even a dog can learn to speak, I see, Garrick retorted, standing up quickly and balling his fists.


    I am no ignorant ajama like you, the mamluk spat. You are amb among wolves, and you will be devoured. On the sands or elsewhere, it does not matter.


    Keep barking. Youre nothing but a thrall, the northerner spoke in contempt. You were born in chains, and you will die in chains.


    The mamluk smiled with disdain. The rats of the street are also born free. I was trained by the finest warriors in Dr al-Imra while you suckled on your mothers teat! I despise you, Ajama, as I despise all the ajam. You will not leave this house alive, this I swear to you.


    Whats going on? yelled a voice in Suthspeech. A guard came walking down the hallway, raising his staff in warning. Get to your cell!


    The mamluk inclined his head with a subservient smile. He had time to send a final sneer towards the northerner before disappearing to his own room. The guard appeared in the doorway, speaking brusque words to Garrick.


    Yeah, Ill go to sleep, he replied with weariness, sitting down on his cot. The guard continued on his round; lying down on his bed, Garrick let his fingers run over the smooth wood that hung around his neck.


    ~~~~


    When midnight had barely passed, guards and ves crossed the city, bringing Elder Mago to the Emerald Tower once more. As always, a ne filled with green gemstones rested on his chest, signalling his rank as leader of the Council and Eldest of the Elders. Wearing it, none barred his entry into the Tower, and he ascended its inner staircase; two ves, each carrying a small chest, followed him.


    After passing the many levels indecipherable sounds and smells emitting from behind every door, Mago reached the top chamber. He knocked.


    Enter.


    I hail you, sage of the tower, Mago spoke as he stepped inside, followed by his servants.


    Hail, Eldest. I have finished examining the gifts sent to you. The alchemist gestured towards the various items given to Mago by the princes of Alczar. But you havee for another purpose.


    I have. Mago gestured for his servants to ce the chests in their arms on the ground. Leave us. While their tongues had been cut out and they were forbidden from learning how to write, all to ensure they could not reveal their masters secrets, Mago had not be Eldest of the city by being careless. He waited until he had seen the ves go down the stairs before he closed the door and turned to face the sage again.


    What is this? The aged man nodded towards the small chests.


    Mago opened one of them, revealing various objects of great value. Various items of clothing and jewellery, a dagger in a sheath set with gems, and sks of spirits. Once the Council rejects the proposal from Alczar, the visiting princes will each be given a chest of gifts to soften the blow.


    The alchemist raised an eyebrow. I hope you dont intend for me to poison the brew. Any novice could do that.


    Far too obvious, Mago smiled. Besides, I do not want the princes dead. It would be too easy to deduce our involvement, and the Kabir can hardly overlook the death of his sons. I wish to send a warning, not a deration of war.


    What did you have in mind?


    Some manner of concoction to make them violently ill. A reminder that we could have done far worse, and the Kabir should look elsewhere than Labdah.


    The alchemist approached the gifts. He leaned down to inspect them, though avoided touching any. Something absorbed through the skin, he considered, looking at the clothes and jewels. That should be simple.


    Excellent. The Council will make its decision on Evenday. Afterwards, I imagine the princes will be kindly asked to return to Alczar. Mago gave another smile. I will require it ready by then.


    As you wish, Eldest. The sage straightened his back as much as his advanced age allowed. You are certain the Council will vote with you, then?


    It is guaranteed. Hiram believes he has swayed some, but he is an upstart, Mago sneered. His schemes areughable and easy to see through. Half the Council has promised to support him, yet they are in my pocket. He patted his robe as if the Elders were hiding inside.


    As you say, Eldest.


    You doubt me.


    The alchemist gave a cough. I would never, Eldest. I am no Councillor, merely a sage. As I have been for many, many years. His voice came so crisp, it sounded like a chain rusted with age.


    Longer than I have been the Eldest, you mean.


    Longer than you have been on the Council, the sage added. Longer than you would care to know.


    Mago stared at the alchemist, surrounded by the countless trophies of his arts and hidden knowledge. I need it by Evenday, he reiterated, turning around to leave.


    Outside, hearing the conversation reaching its end, Jawad retreated from the door and made his escape from the Emerald Tower.

 Chapter 129: Evenday

    Chapter 129: Evenday


    While Adalmearc celebrated summer solstice and mourned winter solstice, the triumph and defeat of light, the South Cities reserved their festivities for the days of equinox when light and dark were in bnce. The Evenday in spring was particrly revered, bringing new life. Revellers filled the streets at all hours, and no work was done if it could be avoided. Even veszed about as the entire city let loose of all restraints.


    Master Hannospound was one of the few exceptions. Every area saw frenzied activity; today, his fighters would earn their keep and prove themselves. The first games wouldmence before noon, and thest would take ce long after. Hanno had fighters participating in most of them, and all had to be ready and prepared for departure at the same time.


    First time on the sands. Nervous? Majid asked smiling, strapping on his greaves.


    Ive been in battle before, Garrick reminded him, putting on bracers. Ive fought people actually trying to kill me. Ill be fine.


    Youve never fought with a thousand eyes staring down upon you, Majid retorted. It will be nothing like what you have known.


    You keep saying that, but I didnt flinch when we fought the other night, Garrick argued.


    You did well, Majid acknowledged. Just stay on your feet. Dont take any risks. I can handle every opponent were up against, as long as I dont have to drag a dead man by the chain.


    Dont you worry. Ill take care of myself, Garrick imed. You do the same.


    Trust me, I will. I am this close to freedom, Majid dered.


    Why does it matter so much to you? You seem awful satisfied being a ve, Garrick taunted him.


    I ept my lot while working to improve it. Is that so hard for you to grasp?


    How can you ever ept being a ve? Under someone elses boot?


    Most of my life has been this way. When I was a soldier, my life was not much different. I lived in the barracks, ate what I was given, trained daily, and followed orders, Majid pointed out. If I had tried to leave, I would be branded a deserter. Freedom was a stranger to me then as now.


    But you choose to be a soldier, Garrick argued. I never chose this. I was tricked, assaulted, and sold like cattle! Prodded by strangers and measured like a horse. They made an animal of me, heined. No man should endure such a fate.


    Yet thousands do, Majid replied prosaically. You can continue toin about it, or you can w your way up. I made my choice long ago, and today, my reward is in sight. You are free to choose to do the same.


    ~~~~


    At Hirams estate, an entire procession of people prepared to depart. Besides the nobility, most servants and ves would be going to the spectacle as well. An ample number of guards was also included. Since the stable hands and bearers were not working today, there was neither horses nor litter avable. As a result, everyone was walking.


    I could do without this tradition, Daliained as they set into motion.


    Walking once a year will not kill you, Jana chastised her.


    But it is so far to the theatre! My shoes are not at all suited for walking that far.


    Then why are you wearing them?


    They are the only pair that is suitable with this dress, Dalia exined with a superior attitude.


    Of course.


    Just ahead of them in the column, their brothers spoke with lowered voices. Everything prepared? asked Saif.


    Naturally. I would not walk with such leisure otherwise, Jalil replied, slightly indignant.


    Just making sure. The meeting with the Council is tonight.


    I am aware, Jalil told him with irritation. Until then, perhaps we can enjoy the games. He increased his pace to fall into step with Hiram, soon engaging him in conversation.


    ~~~~


    All of Labdah was celebrating Evenday, including at the docks. Whether natives or foreign sailors, everyone was happy to indulge an excuse for revelry. Even the ves hauling goods to and from ships took part. All across the piers, men and women wereughing, drinking, and enjoying the mood. An exception were the tavern keepers; most of them worked half the day, providing a steady stream of drink to get the festivities started.


    Jawad slipped into one such establishment; although early, the ce was already full. He approached the proprietor, a stocky man with sweat on his face from running around the room. Fasih.


    Seeing the old rogue, the tavern keepers demeanour changed. He put down everything in his hands and nodded towards the backroom. Jawad entered, quickly followed by Fasih. Yes, chief?


    Jawad gave him a piece of paper. A message for Amal. Make sure it leaves today. Things are going to change fast in Labdah, I suspect, and our operations with them.


    You got it. Fasih epted the missive with a meaty hand. You found out everything you needed then, chief?


    I did. You can withhold any payments to Maharbal.


    We aint on friendly terms with him anymore?


    We are, Jawad rified, but it wont matter much longer.


    Fasih frowned. We wont need him? Is this to do with the Council and the emissaries from Alczar?


    Jawad nodded. If ties between Labdah and Alczar are restored, so will trade, and there will be little profit in smuggling goods between them. If the current situation holds, it means Maharbal and his faction have be isted on the Council, Jawad exined. In which case, he will be soon be ousted. Either way, we have no further need of him.


    As you say, chief. Anything else?


    Have a boat ready to take two passengers to Alczar. Eitherte tonight or possibly tomorrow, though I aim for sooner rather thanter.


    Very good. Fasih nodded. Youre going through with it, then?


    I am.


    Hes important to you, this northerner?


    Jawad shrugged. Ive never met him before recently. But he works for the Prince, and the name of the Prince must be respected.


    Aye. Fasih nodded again, fervently. I hope the master knows all the ways were doing his work in Labdah.


    Ill be sure to mention your name to him, Jawad promised.


    ~~~~


    While the Evenday celebrations could stretch on for days, the games were only held on the actual day. This meant a steady stream of people leaving the city to reach the theatre thaty outside the walls.


    Im not looking forward to this heat getting worse, Garrick mumbled.


    Oblivious to his remark, Majid grabbed his arm and attention. Look! Your future and fortune lie ahead. He pointed at a great structureing into view as they left the city gate. Hewn into the rock, the theatre of Labdah loomed in the distance. It was rumoured to be thergest of its kind, able to amodate many thousands. For more than twelve centuries, it had seen countless fights on its sands. Underneath these tribunes, a now forgotten Elder of the Council had enmed the popce to war against Adalmearc eight hundred years ago. Many still spoke of the trial against Hamilcar, the captain used of treason following the defeat against Alczar. Today, another chapter in the history of the great theatre would be written.


    Nearby, a small town of tents rose, allowing the fighters a ce to prepare. Weapons and armour were being inspected, oiled, and polished everywhere. Every warrior fought in a distinct style, easily recognisable by their equipment. The style of Alczar was among the mostmon, and passing through the area, Garrick saw numerous shields simr to Majids. The spearmen of Gadir were also popr. Here and there, an emerald warrior could be seen carrying a tower shield. The crowd adored this style as it was an homage to Labdah, but few trainers chose it for their fighters; not many warriors could handle a shield of such size with the swift manoeuvres needed to win in the arena. Reaching Hannos tent, Garrick saw no fighter in the northern style but himself.


    The first game is about to begin, Majid remarked to Garrick. A few of Hannos warriors had already prepared themselves and departed.


    When is our fight?


    Itll be some hours. We participate in the grandest spectacle, my friend! Fifty warriors upon the sands at the same time. The excitement of the crowds is like a lightning bolt coursing through your veins. You have never felt anything like it, I promise you, and you will crave it ever after, Majid told him.


    Looking distracted, Garrick did not reply at first. I wasnt honest with you the other day, he finally admitted.


    How so?


    When you asked if I had something waiting for me back home. I didnt quite tell you the truth.


    Ajama, such matters are between you and your god.


    No, I want you to know. Someone should know, Garrick dered. Its been eating at me. He continued in halting fashion. Remember the girl I was going to marry? She got pregnant. I was a daybourer, barely making coin for myself. So I joined the Order to get some quick silver, provide for them both.


    That doesnt seem like anything to shame you.


    Garrick shook his head. As the campaign dragged on, I sent less silver home. Spent it on myself. When it was finally over, I didnt go home for several years. I became a temple guard until they wouldnt have me either. I only returned once my coin was gone and I had no better prospect.


    Majid inspected his weapons, letting Garrick speak without interruption.


    By then, she had found someone else. Not much of a surprise, and I hardly me her. As for the boy, hed never met me before. The old soldier exhaled. All the years I was gone, I cant really im to be his father, and I dont think her new fellow cares much about thed either. Hes going to end up like me, working himself to the bone for a few petties, or join the Order and bleed in the mud somewhere.


    Ajama, you should not fill your head with these thoughts before a fight.


    Thats why I epted the task, going to Alczar. It was enough silver that I could buy him an apprenticeship. If I could make sure he got a trade, hed get a better life than me, Garrick said. Perhaps that would atone for my failings.


    Those are good intentions. Let thatfort you, Majid suggested, and put your mind towards the sands.


    But he doesnt know that, Garrick interjected. In his mind, I went away again. Hell think I left him, like the first time. I dont want that on my conscience. He finally looked at Majid. One way or another, I have to leave. I wont stay twelve years hoping to one day be champion.


    The other warrior sent him a stern look. Tomorrow, you can set the city on fire for all I care. But today, Ajama, today you will fight!


    ~~~~


    Warriors left and returned over the next hours. Some in triumph, some in defeat, all with wounds. At some point, the mamluk left while shooting a menacing look towards Garrick; when he returned, he was subdued, and the physician began treating his wounds.


    Im guessing that bastard didnt win, Garrick said with glee.


    Keep your thoughts on your fight, Majid cautioned him. Keep your head where it belongs.


    Garrick examined his equipment. Besides his armour, he had been given a sword with a long de, a helmet that covered around his eyes, and a round shield. Why does my shield have a horse head on it? Thats the symbol for peace, he pointed out to Majid.


    Why does a horse mean peace? the other man asked confused.


    Garrick frowned. You know, Im not sure. It must have something to do with Disfara. A goddess, he added.


    If I dont know, the crowd wont either. As long as its sturdy.


    Garrick struck the steel edge of the shield against the ground a few times. It looks to be. An official exchanged words with their master and quickly examined Garrick, who red back at him. Whats that for?


    They are checking their records. You must be new to the sands, remember? It would be a breach of sacred rules if not. One champion, one beginner, Majid reminded him. Hanno walked over to speak a few words in Suthspeech, and Majid nodded. We are next, Ajama. Prepare yourself.


    Garrick closed his fist around his amulet. Rihimil, protect me, he muttered, squeezing the wooden carving.


    Your god? Majid asked, checking the many straps of his armour.


    Rihimil, the ck Knight, Garrick confirmed. I served in his temple once.


    ck? He is like me, not pale like you?


    No, I think its his armour. Never thought about that, Garrick admitted with confusion.


    Too bad. You might have made a convert out of me, Majid grinned. Here! We mustplete your appearance. He brought out a jar and began to smear some of its contents on Garricks face. There. Thats how a northern warrior should look.


    Ive never seen an inder look like this, Garrick retorted.


    Neither has the crowd, but they expect it nheless. Come! It is time you stand upon the sands.


    With chains connecting their ankles, the two fighters followed Hanno. Passing through the town of tents, otherbatants joined them. Those staying behind saluted them in various ways. Majid responded with a nod to each; Garrick simply breathed heavily.


    Just survive, the Mearcian told himself. You can do that. Just survive.


    They finally stepped onto the sands. In a semi-circle, the tribunes spread around them, and the cheers from thousands of spectators rose in greeting. Majid waved his sword in the air while Garrick craned his neck to stare all around. It seemed the entire poption of Labdah hade to see them fight. The sand crunched beneath their feet; above, the sun shone down to be reflected in their armour. When all twenty-five pairs of fighters had returned the greetings of the crowd, they spread out across the arena, turning to face each other.


    Ajama! Do like me, Majid bid him and bent down to let the grains of sand run through his hands. Greet the sand. Let it know who stands upon it. You will do this many times before yourst fight, he told Garrick.


    Seems like silliness, the northerner mumbled, but he did as suggested.


    All the tribunes were the same except those at the very top; seats and canopies had been installed to allow the nobility of Labdah to enjoy the games infort. Mago, Eldest of the Council, nodded to a horn blower by his side. A sound issued from his instrument, and the fight could begin.


    Fifty warriors shouted in bloodlust. Some charged forward with expert coordination, others stood fast. Ajama! Majid called out. One pair came at them, and Garrick found himself in desperate defence. His foe ran into him like a battering ram, knocking both of them to the ground. He stabbed as best he could, but his long de could not find its target in such closebat. His enemy had a shorter sword and thrust it down; in the nick of time, Garricks shield came up to take the blow.


    Blood sprayed over him as Majids weapon pierced the enemy fighter from behind, and hisrade used one foot to push the corpse away from Garrick. On your feet, Ajama!


    Just survive, he mumbled, repeating Jawads words to him as he got up. He saw the other fighter, Majids first opponent, sitting disarmed on the ground. Just survive.


    Another pair approached, more cautiously. Garrick and his counterpart measured each other; he faced a spearman. The tip came jabbing at him, which he blocked with his shield. He tried to advance, but found himself held back; at every attempt to move forward, the spearman skilfully attacked, forcing him to step back and defend. Finally, he attempted the same manoeuvre as in Hirams pce. When his enemy lunged forward to stab the spear at him, Garrick dropped his shield and reached out to grab the shaft, pulling it towards him.


    It had worked in the cramped space of Hirams hall; here, the spearman had enough distance to bnce himself and stop his own momentum. With both hands, he tore the spear out of Garricks grip. Despair wed across the northerners face as he saw his discarded shield on the ground.


    Majids de came swinging into the spearmans helm, making a dent and sending him tumbling to the ground. Stop acting the fool! Majid cried out to Garrick, who hurried to pick up his shield. Just defend yourself! The spearmansrade alreadyy on the ground with arms stretched out in surrender. Theye!


    Another pair of enemies. An emerald warrior charged Garrick, and they exchanged blows. Trying to find a way past the tower shield seemed impossible; it covered the wielder nearly from head to toe. Daring a look towards Majid, he was also hard pressed; he faced a warrior in the same style as himself, apparently of equal skill.


    Garrick shifted slightly until the sun was behind him, making his opponent squint against the harsh light. With this small advantage, Garrickunched himself forward but immediately dropped to the ground, stabbing his enemy in the foot. The emerald warrior gave a cry of pain and stumbled backwards, out of reach, while swinging his sword to keep Garrick at bay. That was not needed; on his feet again and with one enemy in retreat, Garrick turned to sh Majids opponent across the back.


    Majid did not waste the opening and sent him to the ground. Two against one, they turned on the emerald warrior, circling around him like wolves finding a wounded deer. A feint from Garrick drew his attention, letting Majid move in close; one momentter, hey down in defeat.


    Across the sands, few remained standing. None were eager to rush into the next fight; all appraised their remaining opposition. In response to this, the roar from the crowds lessened while anticipation built. Garrick pushed his helmet up to wipe the sweat from his brow. What now?


    We make someone else than us the target. Majid nodded towards another pair. Keep pace. They began walking with the chain between them rattling like a snake across the sand.


    Their chosen opponents noticed the threat and turned to defend themselves, thereby making themselves vulnerable from another angle. This was not lost on another pair of fighters, who moved to take advantage of this. Two pairs against one left nothing to chance.


    Majid shouted a few words over the din to their temporary allies, and an agreement was reached. All of them moved to face the third pair on the sands, repeating their strategy. As before, istion proved disastrous. One of them managed to surrender; the other had the choice ripped from him with a sword through his chest.


    Only two pairs remained. Just survive, Garrick mumbled.


    Just keep yours at bay, Majid instructed him. Dont fall, dont leave me vulnerable. Stay on your feet, keep your weapons in hand. Itll be over soon.


    For the first time since the fight had begun, Garrick faced a mirrored opponent; his enemy held a long de and round shield in the northern style, same as himself. Blue eyes met his own of the same hue; it seemed likely he stood against another Mearcian.


    His opponent lunged forward tounch an attack; on the sands, they were all enemies, Mearcian or not. To the side, Majid engaged his own counterpart likewise.


    Sword and shield shed repeatedly; Garrick was constantly pressed back, having met his match. The chain around his ankle stretched out, objecting to any further retreat.


    Ajama! Majid called out upon feeling the chain pull at him, threatening his bnce.


    Blows rained down against Garrick, forcing him further back. The shackles stretched, encouraging his enemy to press on. Sun red into his face, sweat poured into his eyes, defeat loomed over him. With a quick stroke, his foe struck a gash across his right arm, making Garrick drop his sword. In a desperate act, Garrick threw his shield against his enemy. It bought him a moment, which he used to jump to the side. The chain between him and Majid stretched out and became a snare to entangle his enemys legs, and he fell to the ground.


    Immediately, Garrick fell upon him, seizing his dropped shield and bashing its edge into the throat of his enemy. His windpipe crushed, the man gargled and suffocated. Getting up, pulling his chain free and picking up his sword, Garrick stalked towards thest remaining foe. Attacking from behind, he shed him across the hamstrings. With an anguished scream, the fighter fell to his knees, dropping his weapons in surrender.


    Ajama! Majid roared in wonder. We did it! We won!


    We won? Garrick asked in a daze. He stared around the arena and saw it to be true. He raised his bloodied sword in triumph. We won!


    ~~~~


    Those are your champions, are they not? asked Saif of Hiram.


    They are indeed. Master Hanno has proven worthy of my patronage, Hiram said pleased. As his patron, I have the fortune of naming one of them as champion.


    You decide between these two? asked Jalil.


    Custom is the experienced fighter receives that honour, Jana exined. She was the only woman among them; Dalia sat with Maharbal. Along with his freedom.


    Customs change, Jalil imed. Letting such a skilled warrior go free seems a waste.


    That particr pair is interesting, Hiram dered. It is no coincidence they fight in the style of Alczar and Adalmearc. The taller one is from your city, and the other hails from the North, I was told.


    And the taller was the experienced fighter, correct? asked Jalil.


    Indeed. But was he the better? It seems almost auspicious that Alczar and Adalmearc should fight on the sands. But a real fight has only one winner, does it not? Hiram looked at the princes seated by his sides.


    In this case, they worked together, Saif pointed out.


    Lord Hiram is right. War has only one victor, Jalil dered. Smiling, Hiram rose from his seat.


    The multitudes of spectators were still in a frenzy after the game; it took a while for them to notice the expensively d man at the top of the tribunes, raising his hands to gesture for silence.


    Good people of Labdah, what games we have had today! Hiram dered. The crowds roared back in agreement. I am Lord Hiram, Elder of the Council and patron of the fighters who stand victorious upon the sands this day! He paused with a beaming smile. It is tradition that the champion of the chained games shall be set free. While I strongly believe that Labdah stands upon the traditions of our ancestors, I also believe that Labdah should stand with its friends. Before us, we have a warrior of Alczar and a warrior of Adalmearc. Who is stronger?


    Hiram waited to let the question take root. There is only one way to know! he continued. Let the sands decide! Two men stand before us  only one may be free. Only one may live. To the death! Let the sands decide! he repeated with a roar.


    Both Majid and Garrick had worn smiles while Hiram spoke. Now, their smiles faded as the truth became apparent.


    Fight! yelled the crowd.


    You said we had won, Garrick said confused. You promised!


    This is unheard of, Majid mumbled.


    Fight!


    I dont want to fight you, Garrick dered, but he kept his sword angled towards Majid.


    Fight!


    Im sorry, Majid muttered. Ive waited too long for this.


    Fight!


    Garrick leapt forward without warning, raising his de. As he struck down, Majid parried every blow, quickly recovering. The northerner swung in an arc, aiming to cut Majids throat. Thetter leaned backwards with cold-blooded calction, and the tip of Garricks sword passed by within an inch of his skin. Before Garrick could stop the momentum of his swing, Majid closed the distance and plunged his short de into flesh.


    Garricks sword fell from his hand, and he sank to the sands. He sought to speak to no avail. By the time Majid knelt by his side, only dead eyes stared up. Im sorry, Ajama, Majid told the dead man. He reached out and grabbed hold of Garricks pendant, pulling it free. You deserved better. Clutching the carving of Rihimil in one hand and his sword hilt in the other, Majid rose to receive the adtion of the crowd and his freedom.


    The people certainly do not mind this departure from custom, Saif remarked casually.


    It proved beneficial today, Jana admitted. But abandoning tradition means abandoning its protection.


    Labdah has far too long been in the grip of tradition, Hiram dered with a touch of scorn. Twelve men cannot steer a ship or ride a horse. This is how it should be. He gestured towards the arena. One champion. Today, the sands showed us the truth.


    It would not have looked well if the northerner had won, Jalil pointed out.


    There was no danger of that. He was far less skilled, Jana argued. I am sure Lord Hiram had taken that into ount.


    Of course. Hiram smiled. This disy of Alczars strength is a good omen for our negotiations tonight with the Elder Council.


    Jana stared down upon the arena where the bodies of the in fighters were being retrieved. A bloody omen, to be sure. But already, the sand was being reced, removing all traces of bloodshed.


    From the tribunes, Jawad watched Garricks corpse being dragged away, and he gave a sigh.

 Chapter 130: Negotiations

    Chapter 130: Negotiations


    With the gamespleted, the theatre became empty and the streets full. Soon, Labdah was a maelstrom of drunken revelry. Music was yed everywhere by anyone with the slightest skill, and countless songs filled the air in honour of this mystical time where night and day was even.


    Few ces celebrated with more fervour than Hannos house; the presence of a champion ensured that. With strong wine in their cups, all were certain to enjoy the evening. Everyone in Hannos household wanted to offer their congrattions to Majid; one after the other, ves and servants, the other fighters and the old physician, and even the guards passed by the courtyard to hail the champion, now a free man.


    Majid received their praise calmly, expressing his gratitude; he drank sparsely. As thest, Hanno appeared as well, greeting his former ve with a small purse of silver. Thank you, Master Hanno, Majid said.


    Youre wee, Master Majid, Hanno replied before moving back into his house.


    The former ve was quiet for a moment before he stood up and poured some of his wine onto the ground. Hail to you, Garrick, he said. May your god bring you home. Around him, the celebration continued undisturbed.


    ~~~~


    One ce in Labdah remained outside the grasp of festivity. In the gathering hall for the Elder Council, there was a slow trickle of people arriving. With the games concluded, the twelve Elders made their way to cast their vote and decide whether Labdah and Alczar should be on friendly terms. Most of them were apanied by a servant and a few guards; one Elder had his taster present as well, handing him grapes. The mood was light; mostly, people were eager to return home and join the celebration.


    Mago, leader of the Council and recognisable by the emerald pendant around his neck, was quietly talking with everyone present. He moved from one person to the next, measuring their intentions and exchanging thoughts, opinions, and promises. When Hiram arrived as thest, apanied by the princes of Alczar, Mago weed him with a satisfied look. We are all here. Let us take our seats and begin. The twelve Elders sat down. Hiram took his ce at the end of the row, near Maharbal; Mago sat in the centre. Wee back, my lords of Alczar, he told Saif and Jalil.


    The princes had appeared with several guards in tow; they inclined their heads towards Mago. Our thanks.


    I will continue straight to the point, Mago spoke loudly. We will take a vote as to whether Labdah should begin trade negotiations with Alczar. If this esteemed Council deems it so, we will appoint three Elders to negotiate on behalf of the city, as is custom. The other members nodded and mumbled their assent. Let us begin. Mago extended his right hand in invitation.


    The Elder seated to the far right spoke up. I am against.


    The next Elder continued. As am I. I vote against. More and more of the councillors joined them. In the end, only two on the council were in favour of the proposal.


    Our decision is obvious, Mago dered. I thank the Council for having performed its duty. On behalf of the Elders of Labdah, I must decline the proposition put forth by our guests from Alczar. Hearing this, Hiram left his seat and walked down to stand next to the princes. This evoked questioning nces and mutterings from the other Elders; even Maharbal sent him a confused look. Lord Hiram, it is not our custom for any Elder to abandon their seat while the Council is assembled, Mago chastised him sternly.


    Today is not a day for customs, Hiram replied. Behind him, the doors to the hall swung open. More than a score of blue-d warriors burst inside, drawing steel.


    What is this? demanded Mago to know.


    Brigands!


    Assants! Help!


    The soldiers made short work of the guards present. Some of the Elders tried to run; they were caught immediately and put to the sword. A few fought back with predictable result. Maharbal rose from his chair and tried to call out to the princes; he was run through before he could finish. Stunned, Mago did not move; a de to the stomach left him dead soon after, still in his seat.


    Just as swiftly as it had begun, the assault was over. More than a dozen bodiesy scattered across the hall, servants and masters alike. An eerie silence descended upon the building; the soldiers cleaned and sheathed their weapons before gathering outside.


    Surrounded by the carnage, neither Saif nor Jalil spoke or moved. Hiram, on the other hand, walked up to Magos corpse and took the emerald pendant to hang it around his own neck. Exhaling, he turned with a smile to face the men from Alczar.


    A blue-d warrior, dressed in better armour than most, entered. We are prepared, milords, he told the princes.


    Captain, this is Lord Hiram, Saif exined, gesturing to the man in question. Once we depart, you will take orders from him.


    Milord, the captain spoke.


    This is the captain of the Sapphire Sons, Saif continued to Hiram. Captain, you may proceed.


    At once. I leave the contingent here to escort you home. I must warn you that until the remainder of mypany arrives, I will not have enough men to patrol the streets.


    When will they arrive? asked Hiram.


    The ships should be in harbour within the next days. Until then, we will seize the gates, the docks, and the estates of the Elders. The captain nced at the dead men. There should be no significant opposition beyond that.


    Good. Proceed, captain, Saif reiterated. The mercenary leader saluted them and departed.


    With the festivities, I doubt our men will meet much resistance. The city is yours, Jalil told Hiram. As you can see, Alczar delivers upon its promises.


    In full, Hiram assented. I do have one further request not previously mentioned in our negotiations.


    Jalil frowned. More conditions? Do not forget whose gold is paying these mercenaries.


    Saif raised one hand to calm his brother. What is it?


    Hiram looked back upon the corpse of Maharbal. Since your sister is no longer engaged, I should wish to amend my alliance with your father. We will proceed with the marriage as intended, but let it be between me and thedy Dalia. I find her  more to my taste.


    Jalil shrugged. I care not.


    Agreed, Saif expressed.


    Hiram smiled broadly. Excellent. Let us return to my home. The next days will be pregnant with fate.


    ~~~~


    Screams filled the streets. Warriors in blue stalked through Labdah, killing any opposition. The city guards, only used to fighting drunks and thieves, were ughtered. The same happened to any ordinary citizens that dared resist until bodies piled up.


    The estates of Labdahs elite were not exempt from the mayhem. While built with garden walls and reinforced gates, the pces were intended to protect against thieves or brigands. The Sapphire Sons, ustomed to besieging fortresses, had little trouble forcing their way in. Harder fighting ensued, but numbers won out, and the blue-d warriors put many to the sword while also helping themselves to plunder, getting their pay in advance.


    The only pce untouched belonged to Hiram, but even here, the sounds of battle reached into the marble halls. In one wing, Dalia was clutching Jana around the waist, hiding her face. In front of the sisters stood Salim with his sword drawn and mute fury in his eyes. They were otherwise alone; any servants were hiding, while the guards patrolled the outer grounds.


    Commotion could be heard in the hallway beyond the chamber; Salim shifted his stance, raising his weapon. The doors burst open to reveal Hiram; behind him, several warriors wearing blue cloaks could be seen. Forgive me the intrusion and that I have note to see you sooner, he spoke. I only just arrived home. You must be unnerved by all that is happening, but I assure you as my guests, you are safe. Despite Hirams words, Salim kept his sword in position.


    Lord Hiram, Jana began to speak as she extricated herself from Dalias arms. Can you tell us what is going on? It sounds as if the very city is under assault!


    There is fighting going on, the nobleman confirmed. Nothing for you to be concerned with. As said, you are both safe. I have brought extra guards to keep the pce secure, and in any case, we are not under threat.


    Why not? asked Jana.


    Please remain in this chamber until I say otherwise. For your own safety, Hiram instructed them. He turned to leave.


    What about Maharbal? Dalia added suddenly. He went with you to the Council. Where is he? Hiram paused briefly, but did not turn back; he continued his departure. Maharbal! Dalia called out like an animal in distress. She received no response except that the warriors in blue shut the doors behind Hiram.


    ~~~~


    As night and festivities ended, Labdah woke to a changed world. The stains of spilled wine mixed with spilled blood upon the streets. Fearsome, unforgiving warriors in blue surcoats locked the city and permitted no entry or exit for days. Ships could not depart or make berth, the marketcey deserted, and cries of woe were heard for the in.


    For three days, Labdah held its breath, waiting for any opposition to materialise. It never did; there were no leaders or citizens of prominence left to take charge, and the city guard was either disarmed or cut down. Many looked towards the Emerald Tower, but its doors were shut; it was impossible to say if the sages even knew of what had transpired.


    On the fourth day, after a ship had arrived carrying nothing but blue-d warriors, something resembling normalcy returned. The gates were opened, ships were allowed to leave, and the most daring or desperate peddlers began hawking their wares. Themon inhabitants began appearing on the streets again, which the Sapphire Sons now patrolled.


    From Hannos house, Majid appeared. As a free man, he had no further ce in Hannos household; with his small bag of silver and nothing else, he wandered down the street. He saw few others; when he did, they hurried past him without making eye contact. The Sapphire Sons scrutinised him, on the other hand, but as he was not even armed, they saw little reason to stop him.


    Reaching the harbour, Majid found a spot to sit and observe the ships. Normally the busiest part of the city, the docks seemed quiet; the hundreds of ves and workers that otherwise would be busy loading and unloading goods stayed away.


    Well met, Master Majid.


    He turned to find a short, slender man in his fifties, who without a sound had taken seat next to him. Are we acquainted?


    Not yet. My name is Jawad. He sent the former fighter a smile. Like you, a native of Alczar. I am quite eager to return, given the events of thest few days. As are you, I imagine.


    Alczar abandoned me to very, and part of me despises the city for it, Majid muttered, but there is nothing for me in Labdah either. It makes no difference whether I go or stay.


    I saw you fight on the sands. You clearly have skills worth selling, Jawad considered.


    I have no interest in fighting for coin ever again, Majid dered forcefully. Besides, what is it to you? Who are you to appear by my side, whispering these things?


    Jawad raised his empty hands before him. A simple servant sent on an errand to Labdah. I failed, unfortunately, and do not wish to return with nothing. I have a task back in Alczar that requires a clever man, able to take care of himself.


    That sounds dubious, Majid snorted.


    It does not involve hurting anyone or breaking anyws, Jawad imed. I have gained passage on a ship departing soon to Alczar. I can easily arrange for another passenger. All I ask in return is that you listen to my proposal, and you can make your decision once we are ashore again.


    Majid turned his stare from Jawad to the harbour and the city thaty behind it. I dont know


    Unless you prefer to stay in a city where mercenaries from Alczar just ughtered all its leaders, Jawad remarked casually. They may not take too kindly to people with our origin.


    Majid swallowed, keeping his hand on his small purse of silver. When does the ship leave?


    ~~~~


    In the spirit of returning home, the Kabirs galley had set sail as well. It carried three passengers of noble blood and their retinue. Jalil had gone below deck immediately, seeking sleep in a cabin. Jana had remained on the deck, staring at Labdah, her home for the past several years, as it dwindled in the distance.


    Saif had moved around the ship at first, but after discovering that the crew had everything in hand and there was nothing aplished by his intervention, he had gone to stand by Janas side. You have been quiet for days.


    Salim stood nearby, silent but watchful as always; he sent Jana an inquisitive look, to which she shook her head. That cannot surprise you, Jana told her brother.


    I understand this is a sudden change, but I thought you would wee returning home to Alczar.


    Jana nced at him with incredulity. You think that is what bothers me?


    What else?


    Saif, you and Jalil conspired with Hiram to murder half a score of people, including Dalias betrothed. We shared a table with Maharbal, and you had him killed.


    It was necessary, Saif imed. Father knew the Council would never deal with us. We would never convince twelve men, but one man was possible. We needed Labdah in the hands of someonepliant.


    We have everything in Alczar, Jana eximed. All the trade in the world flows through our city. What does Labdah have to warrant this bloodshed?


    Ships, Saif replied quietly. In exchange for our aid, Lord Hiram will let us make use of Labdahs ships to transport our troops.


    A question was on Janas face, but it disappeared as the answer came by its own ord. We are going to war with Adalmearc. Or rather, Father is, and he will drag all of us with him.


    Yes. Saif nodded. We have no choice. Like you mentioned, we have had everything thanks to trade, but no more. Adalmearc has banned all sales of timber and iron ore to us. We cannot build ships or forge weapons. Eventually, we will be too weak to defend ourselves. We must strike now while we have the strength.


    We are nning war because Adalmearc refuses to sell us wood and iron, Jana reiterated. Or are they refusing to sell to us because we are nning war?


    Saif stared down upon his hands clutching the railing. Father has nned this for years. We cannot alter the course now. It is why you and Dalia were sent to Labdah. Father knew this day woulde.


    Was this always the n? Jana asked, staring at him. Killing all the Elders but one? Or did Father decide to hasten his schemes, regardless of the cost?


    I do not know, Saif admitted, avoiding her gaze. We have aplished many things in Labdah, more than just the fleet. Father considered all of this, I am sure.


    Aplished? What are all these great aplishments?


    Eleven of Labdahs greatest merchant houses are destroyed. Trade will dwindle to a trickle, and Labdah will be poor. Especially as Lord Hiram will soon have to impose punitive taxes on all to afford the mercenaries keeping him in power, once we no longer pay for them. Labdah will never again be a rival to Alczar. In fact, I foresee further strife in its future. I would be surprised if the rule of Lord Hiram has a peaceful end, Saif spected.


    And it only cost Father some gold and one daughter. You realise that if Hiram falls, his wife will fare no better?


    I am aware, Saif replied curtly. I take no pleasure in it. Be grateful it is not you.


    Why is it not me? Why was Dalia sacrificed in my ce?


    Saif hesitated. Lord Hiram desired it, and I granted it. I think he found her more pliant.


    She was always the prettiest of us all, Jana considered. Poor Dalia. Now it became her downfall. Saif made no remark, so Jana spoke again, staring at him once more. You are a changed man, Saif. You were not this callous when I knew you.


    You were a child, Saif retorted. Now your eyes are opened. You think Jalil would have hesitated to carry out this n? If I show any weakness, Father will know, and our dear brother will take advantage of it. If I do not stand ready to do what I must, we would end up with Jalil as the next Kabir.


    Would it make any difference? Jana did not wait for a reply but went to her cabin. She remained there for the duration of the voyage to Alczar.

 Chapter 131: Disorder

    Chapter 131: Disorder


    North of Lakon, a skirmish was fought. The winter had been quiet, but with the return of spring came also war. The ounder army, after raising the siege of Lakon, had remained in the vicinity to defend their holdings in southern Hthiod. Further northy the Mercian camp, likewise defending the part of Hthiod under their control. In between, scouts and patrols met in constant challenge, testing the readiness of their enemy.


    Most of these minor battles took the same form. On one side, scores of the red-clothed Anausa fought with bows and short swords in close, chaoticbat across the barren moor. Their opposition was far more difficult to determine. Hthian longbowmen stood at the back, supporting Order soldiers, some hignders and dalemen, and even a few whiterobes wielding great hammers. It seemed men from all over the Realms had gathered to fight the ounders, but in such low numbers that the fight was even. Neither side was eager to press forward; the closer the fight moved to the enemy camp, the greater risk of enemy reinforcements. As dusk fell, both contingents felt the point had been made and regrouped in order to retreat. The wounded were pulled back, and the skirmish concluded.


    ~~~~


    The Mearcian camp resembled a field sown by an inebriated farmer. Tents rose into the air in scattered constetions across the area. Somey solitary, others clumped together. The Order army attempted some imitation of organisation, whereas the Hthian levies under their king had made camp with little forethought. One small part had the strangest assortment of warriors; they were a mixed group of drakonians, Hthians and hignders, who had followed Brand into his exile. The dalemen, divided under the leadership of several lords, had simply raised their tents where they saw fit.


    In what could reasonably be called the middle of the camp, Williams tent stood. Nominally the captain of the army, he had called for a council of war. Count Hubert, representing his king and the Hthians, had already arrived, as had Prince vius of Aqu for the dalemen. The captain and the count were in easy conversation, while the prince mutely kept to himself, when a knight entered the tent.


    Sir Vilmund, William spoke questioningly. I bade Sir Ewind to appear, not you.


    I am aware, captain. The other knights and I felt that another should meet with you.


    You felt? William repeated brusquely. What manner of insubordination is this?


    None intended, captain, Vilmund imed. With spring arriving, battle seems inevitable. But many of the knights, including myself, doubt the legitimacy of the orders we might receive.


    How dare you impugn Sir Williams honour! eximed Hubert, jumping out of his seat.


    It is not the captain but his counsel we call into question, Vilmund retorted. You have an ouw and oath breaker acting as your lieutenant, he continued, addressing William.


    Sir Adalbrand is the bestmander in the Realms, the captain argued. I would be a fool not to heed his advice.


    He has no right to that title, Vilmund spoke with utter contempt. He is not even in the Order. His de was broken and he pronounced a knave. The honour of every knight under yourmand is forfeit if you follow this man.


    You follow me, William proimed. That is all you need to know.


    As the Codex proscribes, any knight is bound to refuse an uwfulmand, Vilmund continued.


    Every order is given by me and thuswful, William dered with a clenched jaw. It is not the ce of any knight to question it.


    That is not our view. As long as the ouw pulls your string, captain, Vilmund said, speaking the title slowly, do not expect the knights to agree with you. Without being dismissed, he turned and left the tent.


    Hitherto silent, Prince Aqu rose from his seat. I see this council is nothing but a waste of time. As I have no interest inmitting my soldiers to a fight, especially not without the knights on our side, I think that concludes our meeting. He left as well with haste.


    Sighing, William turned towards Hubert. At least you are not in a hurry to leave.


    Boy, you know I am itching for a battle as much as anybody, the count told his old pupil. If you decide it, I will convince the king to march the Hthians south alongside you.


    William shook his head. We cannot risk an engagement if our cavalry refuses to fight. I should have them all flogged! The question is whether it is merely Sir Vilmund and a few malcontents, or if many of the knights are on their side.


    While I agree ardently with flogging men refusing to fight, we must consider what was said, Hubert admitted. The knights hate Adalbrand. For reasons I have never understood, Prince Aqu mes him for being the reason that King Adrd sent him here. Even Leander is spiteful towards him for having kept reinforcements in Adalrik that were meant for Hthiod. The old count exhaled. He certainly has a gift for making enemies.


    Brand has been the architect of all our victories, William said despondent. Tothmor and Polisals were freed because of him. His gift for strategy is invaluable.


    But is it more valuable than five hundred knights? Hubert asked pointedly.


    William breathed heavily. He is my friend. I failed him in Middanhal. How can I fail him again?


    And to all the soldiers out there, you are their captain, Hubert retorted. You cannot afford to fail them either.


    ~~~~


    Leander emptied his cup. I swear, if we ever run out of wine, I am leaving. This has been the dullest winter of my life, worse thanst year spent in Korndale.


    Troy sipped with more caution from his own. Part of me should desire excitement, but I cant say I mind things being dull. I only take exception to having spent another winter in camp. Winter is meant for cities. He shuddered.


    It serves you right for trotting off with a band of fortune seekers, Leander admonished him, pouring another cup.


    When I trotted off, they were a respectable band led by a knight, Troy defended himself. How was I to know hed be dered an ouw?


    Ill fortune follows that man like a dog follows the butcher, Leander mumbled.


    I dont regret it, Troy dered. Seeing the hignds was the best experience of my life. The beauty of thend, and the people there know to appreciate bards.


    I bet if you drank all their wine, their tune would change.


    Ill have you know they were happy to serve me.


    I always knew they were a strange lot. Leander took a healthy draught from his goblet.


    Troy sent him an inquisitive look. Leander, are you well? You seem  unsettled.


    Half mynd is in the clutches of murderous savages. Should I be fine?


    No, of course not.


    That damnable priest told me things would get better when we returned to Tothmor, Leander mumbled into his cup. Another robe proving to be a damned liar. He threw his head back, emptying his wine.


    What are you talking about?


    Nothing. Leander paused, putting his cup on the small table in the tent. I had a letter yesterday from Tothmor.


    What did it say?


    The sibyls have examined Theodora. She is pregnant.


    The queen? Troy eximed.


    Who else? Leander asked with irritation.


    Of course. I am just surprised. Isnt that great news?


    I suppose.


    Have you told the men? Theyll be overjoyed, Troy imed.


    Because this means an heir?


    Well yes, I suppose.


    That is all that child will be, Leander mumbled. An heir. A piece on the board.


    Neither you nor the queen will look upon him or her that way, Troy insisted.


    Does it matter what I do? The way it seems, I will be here when that child is born. It might be years before I return to Tothmor. I could die in battle tomorrow and never meet it.


    Count Hubert wont allow that, Troy dered. Dont throw away the olive before its been cured. Before you know it, this war is over and your child will have its father home.


    Troy, Leander asked with a tired voice, what do you or I know about fathers? Troy did not have any immediate response. Leander reached out to pick up the wineskin. I am tired. I will try to sleep.


    Of course. Well talk another time, Troy said. He got up and left while the king poured himself another cup.


    ~~~~


    Brands tent contained two cots and a table. On thettery a crude map of southern Hthiod and the Reach beyond the Langstan; Godfrey and Brand sat on the former opposite each other.


    I didnt see much activity yet, Godfrey told him. But I did not venture much beyond Rund. The city here, he borated, pointing at a settlement.


    I remember seeing it in the distance during my own sojourn into the Reach. About a week south of the wall, correct?


    Godfrey nodded. Any reinforcements or supplies will be sent to Rund first and then north across the Langstan to reach Lakon or the ounder army.


    What are the chances they might enter Hthiod from the east? They did so in the initial invasion.


    It seems unlikely. Thend east of Hthiod is hilly. It will take them much longer to enter Hthiod than if they approach from the south, Godfrey exined. He pointed at the map again. The ounders consider everything beyond the Langstan to be invite. A small force in this area could cause untold damage.


    The idea appeals to me, Brand conceded, but leading my men into the Reach is not lightly done. We will be in hostilends with an entire army between us and home.


    If we dy going on the offensive much longer, the opportunity may slip from our hands.


    How so?


    There is a reason the ounders did not advance further after taking control of Hthiod. Did you ever wonder why so many of their troops were pulled back? Godfrey asked.


    Brand frowned. I assumed for supply reasons.


    Godfrey shook his head. An insurrection was instigated in their cities, forcing the Godking to pull back troops to quell the riots.


    Brand scratched his cheek. How great a threat does the insurrection pose against this Godking?


    It is a distraction at best, Godfrey admitted. His rule is absolute and cannot be challenged for long. Soon, he will turn his full attention, not to mention his full armies, against Adalmearc once more. If we are to take advantage of the disarray among the ounders, we must act now.


    Their conversation was disturbed by the arrival of William. Entering the tent, the captain nced at Godfrey. Brand gave thetter a nod, who left. I see your spy has returned, William remarked once they were alone. Not the most auspiciouspany to keep.


    Many would say the same of me.


    I grant you that, William admitted. When judgementes easy, it rarelyes fairly.


    All too true. What brings you by? Something you wish to discuss?


    William took a deep breath. Some of the knights are refusing to fight. Prince Aqu is stubborn as ever. We may only have the infantry and the Hthians with us to take Lakon, along with your band, of course.


    Knights refusing to fight? Brand frowned. That is unheard of.


    It is not cowardice. They question my leadership.


    A knowing expression spread across Brands face. Because of me.


    Yes. I cannot say how far it spreads. We will know once we march out.


    William, facing the ounders on the field without cavalry is preparing for defeat.


    You defeated Sir Athelstan on those terms, the captain countered.


    Because I had fifty Temrs and favourable terrain, Brand reminded him. Not to mention, I knew exactly how Athelstanmands. We have none of those advantages here.


    Perhaps we can outmanoeuvre them, William suggested. We move to threaten Lakon. They will have to intercept and give us battle on terms we dictate.


    Or they will march north and threaten Tothmor, ravaging thend. We need the ounders contained in the south, Brand argued. He paused for a moment. We need them weakened.


    How can we aplish that? It will be difficult to raid their supply lines, and Lakon offers them much protection.


    Brand took a deep breath. We must send forces into the Reach. They will not expect us to attack them there. After all, we have never done so before.


    I see the merit of your proposal, but choosing whom to send must be done with the utmost care. Only our best and hardiest can be expected to prevail if we are to send them deep into hostile territory without reinforcements or support.


    You need not worry. All my men knew I expected to lead them into the Reach on this campaign. We will simply be marching there sooner than expected, Brand said with a wry smile.


    You cannot be serious! I will not be sending my best lieutenant on such a dangerous errand. I would rather go myself, William dered.


    I have no doubt you would, but if you did, this army would fall apart. Just the fact that youe here to my tent to discuss strategy is more fuel for the knights animosity against me, Brand pointed out.


    William stared at him, looking crestfallen. I need you here to help memand the army.


    If I stay, you will not have an army tomand.


    Sending you to near certain death cannot be the answer, the captain maintained.


    William, I have always admired how reasonable you are. This is the obvious solution. The shadow cast upon your leadership is gone. I cany the groundwork for our campaign into the Reach, scouting thend while whittling away at the ounders. My warriors are tougher than stone and well-suited for this kind of fighting.


    William stood in silence. Damn you, he muttered. I hate how you can always sway me.


    You bear this burden admirably, Brand remarked with a p on the shoulder.


    Let the quartermaster know what you need, William told him. Come see me before you depart.


    I will, and I shall. Do not worry, Brand said with a light heart. I will return soon enough. We shall meet again before you know it.


    William left the tent, and it took only a moment for Godfrey to return. That seemed important?


    Brand exhaled. We will leave for the Reach as soon as we are ready. Sir William is in agreement.


    Godfrey nodded. I will leave ahead of you and gather what intelligence I may.


    See that you do.


    With another nod, Godfrey departed from the tent, and soon after, the camp.


    ~~~~


    Of all the motley bands in the Mearcian camp, Brands followers stood out the most. Their count was one hundred, give or take, and they had little inmon except being under Brandsmand. A handful were whiterobes from the hignds, providing spiritual aid to the rest of the Mearcians and hammer blows to the ounders. Many hailed from Adalrik, following the only man they considered a true atheling of Sigvard, even if that road led them to the Reach. Some were Hthians, seeing the dragonborn as the best leader in the fight against the invaders. Lastly, ordinary hignders besides whiterobes could be found, and their number included both men and women; they came mostly from n Ln, of the same name as Brands mother and following their nsman into battle.


    As Troy returned from Leanders tent, he found the others upied in casual ways; most of them watched one of the hignders sparring ukos, known to be the strongest swordsman among Brands followers. You cannot hesitate, he admonished his opponent. She was panting for breath, holding a sword with both hands while ring at ukos. If you are going to fight without a shield, you cannot allow your enemy the opportunity to strike first. Gwen, kinswoman to Brand, raised her sword and swung it over her head with a loud cry. ukos quickly stepped back, out of its reach. Better, he acknowledged, stepping forward to touch her leg with the t of his own de. But you also need to hit, or you remain just as vulnerable.


    To Hel with your advice, Gwen grumbled, rubbing her smarting thigh. Despite her outburst, she readied herself and renewed her attack, continuing the sparring.


    Troy sat down next to Geberic, who was cleaning his boots. Quiet around here.


    Theds are enjoying the mild weather, I suppose, the gruff drakonian replied. Quentin and Nichs are out shooting, Im guessing, and gods know what Matthew and Baldwin are up to. Ill have to teach that boy a thing or two if hes ever going to make a proper sergeant.


    I think that race has been run, Troy said with a good-natured manner. Anyone making the meal?


    Thats all you bards think about, Geberic grumbled. Food, drink, and song.


    True, and doesnt it sound wonderful?


    Geberic stopped his cleaning. Fair point.


    Nearby sat another heathman, idly carving a small stick into chips. He was quiet in nature, but he had an eerie ability to procure any kind of goods through barter, ensuring his poprity among his peers. They knew little about him except that his name was Jerome from Tothmor. All assumed that like others, he was simply a heathman who had heard the tales surrounding Brand and hade to fight under the captains leadership for his homnd. None of them knew that he was a former Red Hawk in service to Konstans, dragonlord of Adalrik, who had promised to fill Jeromes hands with gold if he made sure Brand never returned to Adalrik again.


    Patiently, Jerome continued his work making kindling while keeping an eye on the captains tent and those who guarded it. At all times, one of the former kingthanes now sworn to Brands service remained by the opening, keeping vignt day or night.


    Along with Jerome, all the men sitting nearby looked up to see Godfrey stride past them, leaving Brands tent with his walking staff in hand. Their inquisitive looks followed the wanderer as he left in haste. Behind them, Brand appeared. Geberic.


    Yes, milord! The man-at-arms snapped to attention.


    Tell them all to make preparations. We break camp tomorrow or the day after. We will need provisions for several weeks.


    Yes, milord. Soon after, bustling activity reced leisure among the hundred followers of the Dragonheart, all of them appearing to be loyal.

 Chapter 132: Beyond the Wall

    Chapter 132: Beyond the Wall


    The Langstan rose thirty feet into the air, making it visible from some distance. As it came into view, Brands people poked each other and spoke in excited terms. Everyone knew of this mighty feat of stonework that ran the length of Adalmearc to the south and partly to the east, but few had seen it before this day. It protected the Realms against raiders from the southern wastnds and the Reach, and it served as early warning against enemies invading in greater numbers. For eight hundred years, it had marked the boundary between Adalmearc and the rest of the world, promising safety to its people staying within its border. No longer trusting in that promise, and for the first time in the history of the Langstan, the Mearcians moved to leave its safety behind and fight beyond the shadow of the wall.


    ~~~~


    As they marched south, they kept to the west in order to hide their movements from the ounders. Thus, they were near the border to Korndale upon their approach the Langstan. For many miles in either direction, the wall was unmanned, as this part was contestednd since the invasion. Further west, inside Korndale itself, the Order kept watch should the ounders move in that direction; to the east, the ounders did the same. In between, the watchtowersy deste.


    The bands goal was one of these, and they headed towards the nearest. ukos chose ninepanions and went ahead. One of them soon returned, dering it empty and safe.


    Brand entered the small door at the foot of the tower, allowing ess from this side of the wall. All the towers were built ording to the same principle. On the lower floor were numerous cots, a weapons rack, and room for other supplies. Nothing remained of arms or provisions; both had been scavenged at the onset of the war. As his warriors moved ahead to prepare the descent, Brand walked across the room. There were no bodies to be found; either side had long since collected their dead. Only signs of struggle remained. In one cot, Brand noticed stains so dark, few would have guessed it had once been blood. It spoke of men taken unaware, killed in their sleep. In silence, Brand turned and walked upstairs.


    The upper floor contained furniture and a rudimentary kitchen with a hearth. It was otherwise empty, apart from the telling stains upon the floor nks or sprayed across table and chairs.


    Milord?


    Brand blinked as Geberics voice reached him. Yes?


    The ropes are ready. Shall we make the descent?


    Go ahead.


    The Langstan held no gates; the wall was not built with the intention that any should cross it. The watchtower gave ess to the top of the fortifications, but descending down the other side was more arduous. All had to be lowered down with ropes, holding their weapons and supplies in their arms meanwhile. As this took ce, those who had gone first began scouting the surroundings. They returned with reports of an emptynd; as far as the eye could see, they were alone. Aste afternoon arrived, thest of their number reached the ground. Small as it was, their invasion force had entered the Reach, the first to do so in eight centuries; bloodshed awaited.


    ~~~~


    For the ounders, theck of a gate in the Langstan had likewise posed a problem. They needed to move not only warriors but also horses and wagon trains inrge numbers to be able to wage war. Their solution had been to build arge dirt ramp on either side of the wall, about ten feet wide. This improvised bridge across the Langstany directly south of Lakon. The reason for this was simple; further south, the ounders maintained a small outpost. In ages past, wells had been dug to supply fresh water, first to raiding parties andter to invading armies. All reinforcements and supply trains passed through this point to replenish their water before continuing further north, using the ramps to enter Hthiod. Messages and missives sent from the ounder army within Adalmearc also passed through here on their way to the capital and reverse.


    As such, the outpost was a vital link in the chain that connected the realm of the ounders with their forces stretching north, but that was also the full extent of its existence. There was no town, no vige or farms nearby. There was not even a permanent structure other than the wells, only a few tents and a lean-to, providing a primitive home for the few soldiers looking after the horses kept avable for post riders.


    At its loneliest, less than five soldiers might be stationed here. On asion, the number swelled from the reinforcements marching north to the war. On one particr night, as the cool night of early spring descended, some two hundred men made camp by the wells. A few kept guard, mostly for the sake of routine; the Mearcians were known to never cross the wall, and any rebels against the Godking would be in the cities, not this far from civilisation. Safe in this knowledge, the ounder soldiers drank their fill of water, tended to the few horses belonging to theirmanders, and rxed with the asional games of card or dice. The next day, they would cross the Langstan and be in hostilends, but tonight, they enjoyed the calm.


    ~~~~


    There were about ten archers in Brands following, but at least two of them were among the best marksmen in Adalmearc. Each acting as a kind of lieutenant, Nichs and Quentin lead the other bowmen into position. As there were barely any guards, it was all too easy to unleash their arrows in coordination and kill all of them at once, without a sound. They simply sank to the ground in the dark at the edge of camp, their brethren none the wiser. Most of them were already asleep.


    As the Mearcians approached, having surrounded the camp, they kept quiet at first. Like messengers of death, they stalked through the camp and swung their weapons to gruesome effect. The ounders were so taken unaware, the first sound of something amiss did note from their dyingrades, but from the Mearcians finally giving in to bloodlust. With terrible howls, they cried out in triumph as they slew the ounders, and finally thetter seized weapons. By then, it was far toote. The few soldiers remaining were surrounded and cut down. It had not been a battle, it could not be called a skirmish; it was nothing more, nor less, than a massacre.


    ~~~~


    Once all two hundred oundersy dead, Brand walked among their corpses in the camp. The sword by his side, made of sea-steel and lent to him by the Highfather, had remained in its scabbard; in fact, there had not been asion for Brand to draw it since he had first received it.


    Geberic appeared by his side. It went as well as it could, milord. We didnt lose a single sword arm, just a few nicks and cuts. Theres a few Id rmend are allowed to rest for the next days.


    Brand nodded. As you see fit.


    Theres plenty of food here. We wont have problems with provisions, Geberic continued. Uniforms as well. Everything we need to y a few tricks on these dogs, should we want to.


    ukos appeared, sttered in blood. At some point, they will notice that these men never arrived. Not to mention theck ofmunication if we keep this up.


    That was always going to happen, Brand remarked.


    Of course, captain. I merely meant that time is limited now.


    Naturally. Geberic, have the men begin removing the dead. We need them buried out of sight. Tell ric to organise patrols, both to the north and south.


    I will take one of those going south, with your permission, captain, ukos requested.


    As you wish. Choose the remainder among those willing, but bring along at least one archer.


    Will do, captain. ukos gave a nod and disappeared.


    How many do you think we killed tonight, Geberic?


    Id wager between one and two hundred, milord.


    Brand nced around; his people had begun stripping the dead of their armour and hauling the bodies away. So many.


    Aye, milord, a good victory and a fine start! Ill be off and tell ric to send out patrols, with your leave.


    What? Of course. Brand nodded absentmindedly. As Geberic left him alone, the young captain remained standing in the middle of the camp, watching the signs of battle and death slowly being erased.

 Chapter 133: The Potters Brother

    Chapter 133: The Potter''s Brother


    Rund was little more than a garrison city on the western fringe of the Godkings domain, controlling the surroundingnds and providing a staging point for raids into Hthiod. This meant that a sizeable part of the poption were soldiers or officials in direct service to the Godking, and its remote location had kept it untouched by the insurrection troubling hisnds.


    Thus upon his approach, Godfrey found a peaceful city ruled by discipline. The guards at the gate spied him from afar, standing ready once he reached their post. Documents, one of them ordered. Godfrey fished out parchment from an inner pocket and unfolded it. It was dirty with many creases, but the letters were readable, and the seal of the regions sasab was visible.


    Whats your purpose? asked the other guard while the first inspected his documents.


    I am here to visit my brother and his family, Godfrey replied. I have permission to travel. He nodded towards the parchment in the soldiers hands.


    His name?


    Vsh. Potter by trade.


    Your reason for visiting?


    Our father died some months back. I am bringing some of his ashes to my brother. From his pouch, Godfrey withdrew a sealed jar.


    That could have been sent by courier.


    The sasab approves of my work, Godfrey exined. He granted me this favour.


    How long will you stay?


    A week.


    Whats your brothers name?


    Vsh.


    Whats the name on this document?


    Javed.


    Whats your brother do?


    Hes a potter.


    The interrogation continued for a while longer. All the while, any relevant information about Godfreys identity, journey, and stay in Rund was noted down by a scribe. Finally, once the guards were satisfied, he was sent on his way.


    Progressing down the main street, Godfrey entered a city marked by order. The houses were arrayed neatly along straight lines, built from red-brown bricks and generally standing a few stories tall. In betweeny other pathways or fruit trees. A few children, too young to have been assigned a trade or profession to learn, yed outside under the watchful eyes of the very old. He passed by the workshops supplying this district with goods of every kind needed by the inhabitants. Ahead of himy the temple of the me for the neighbourhood; before Godfrey reached it, he made a turn into one of the alleyways.


    Continuing along this path, it was apparent that Godfrey knew the city. All the buildings were built alike from the same material, ced in repeating patterns that would make any stranger lose their bearings quickly. The only measure of his progress was when he passed workshops of the same sort as he had done earlier, indicating he had reached another district.


    He stopped outside a potters house. The workroom had one wall missing to allow heat and dust an escape, letting Godfrey peer inside with ease. Well met, Vsh.


    A man sat at the wheel, turning it with his feet while his hands deftly shaped the y. Without interrupting his work, the potter looked up. Javed. Youre back.


    Keen eyes as always.


    I take it youve told the guards youre staying here.


    Indeed. Godfrey pulled out the jar of ash. The remains of our father, should they ask.


    ce it over there. The potter gestured towards a table with his hand covered in wet y. How long will you be staying?


    I will be here a week. Then I shall find other amodations.


    Vsh exhaled. I guess thatll be fine. But no longer. My wife has been suspicious ever sincest time, since she knows I dont actually have a brother. And who knows what the boy might overhear.


    Ill not raise any suspicion, I promise you.


    Javed, its not likest time. I dont know where youve been, but all these reports of riots, the Servants of the me are nervous even here in Rund. Its not just the Anausa patrolling. Even the fravashi have been seen. The potter shivered as he spoke of the shadow warriors.


    I will be careful, Godfrey promised.


    A young boy, aged no more than eight, entered the pottery. Uncle!


    Godfrey turned to look at his supposed nephew. Zayen, he smiled, ruffling the boys hair.


    Papa didnt say you wereing!


    Papa didnt know, Vsh muttered.


    Did you bring me something? Zayen asked with anticipation.


    Who knows?


    Uncle! came the drawn-out, slightlyining reply.


    With a wink, Godfrey withdrew a small wooden carving of a horse from his pouch. Would this do?


    Its beautiful! The boy embraced Godfrey around the waist before eagerly picking up the carving.


    Zayen, go inside and wash, his fathermanded him. As the boy disappeared inside the building, Vsh turned to Godfrey. Hes a smart boy. Smart enough that when they examined him, he was chosen for education.


    You and Myrod must be proud.


    Smart enough to one day guess the truth like I did years ago, when you visited my father and didnt look a day older than you do now.


    Godfrey sent him a sharp look. Your point? he asked in a low voice.


    Will Zayen have a choice? Or will he be caught up in your schemes like I was, simply the next in our family?


    That is not how you said it all those years ago. Godfrey nced at the empty street. You wanted to be involved in my schemes, as you call them.


    I was young. I took that risk for myself, but now I have a son to consider.


    Godfrey was quiet for a moment. Very well. We all have our responsibilities. When a week has passed, youll never see me again.


    Washing the wet y from his hands, Vsh gestured towards the inside of his home. Very well, he repeated. Let us have something to eat. You must be hungry from your journey.


    ~~~~


    Godfrey waited until darkness fell. His sword, hitherto hidden underneath his clothing, was strapped around his waist, and a dark cloak was on his back. While Vsh and his family slept, Godfrey silently left the house.


    The streets were empty; few had permission to be outside after nightfall. Keeping to the shadows, Godfrey moved unseen through the uniform pathways of the city. From time to time, patrols of red-robed soldiers marched past, walking through the city like spiders on a web. Whenever the faint sounds of their footsteps reached Godfrey, he would press up against the buildings and hide in the dark. Fires burned slowly by each crossroad where the streets met, but Godfrey always managed to find shadows that could embrace him until the path was clear once more.


    He made sure to steer clear of the temples of the me thaty scattered across the city, one in each district. Whereas the ordinary buildingsy close enough to keep him concealed, the templesy in the middle of their respective district with an open square that only contained a statue of the Godking. Even at night, a great fire burned on either side of the entrance to each of these temples, chasing the shadows away.


    Godfrey continued through the symmetrical streets. When he finally paused in between two buildings, nothing obvious indicated the reason. Letting his fingers search along one of the walls in the dark, he fumbled a bit until he found a loose brick. It willingly followed his grip, proving to be only half in size. In the hollow of the wall, Godfrey reached a hand inside to pull a bag out before recing the brick.


    Continuing on his way, Godfrey wove in and out between the houses while avoiding more patrols. On asion, thetter was apanied by a Servant of the me. In those cases, the Anausa were not simply keeping watch; they were being led with a specific purpose. On one asion, while Godfrey kept out of sight, he observed a priest in his fire-coloured robe direct the soldiers to a house; the door was promptly kicked in, and the Anausa swarmed inside while the residents cried out in terror. This did not provoke any reaction from the neighbouring buildings; the street remained dark and empty. Quietly, Godfrey stepped backwards until he could take another path leading him in a semicircle around the patrol.


    He walked for nearly an hour before he stopped again, once more outside an unassuming building. The main door was unlocked, and Godfrey quickly stepped inside. It was a typical house, divided so that several families might dwell together. Moving up one floor, Godfrey knocked on one of the doors insistently while constantly looking to his left and right. Manzik, he spoke with a hushed voice.


    At length, the door opened. Kaveh, its you, came the surprised expression. Hurry then, inside, the owner urged in a quiet voice, and Godfrey did not linger outside. Showing up after curfew, the other manined. He was in his forties and dressed for sleep. Around the roomy writing utensils, which along with the ink stains on his fingertips revealed him to be a scribe. Considering his modest living quarters, a minor official at most. What if my neighbours heard?


    I would not be so clumsy, Godfrey brushed him off.


    I have not seen you in some years. I thought the Servants got their hands on you. He lit a small candle, providing sparse light in the room.


    Godfrey smiled. Never you worry about me.


    Im not, but I worry about myself. Im guessing youre here for the same reason asst.


    Indeed. Godfrey nodded. Any information you can glean about troop movements.


    Manzik sat down in a chair, sipping from a cup of water. Kaveh, you must understand, things are tense. The Servants are paranoid of rebels. Nobody is above suspicion, not even the shahrban, and certainly not one of his clerks.


    Godfrey sent him a piercing stare that made the scribe squirm. You want more coin.


    I think its only fair that the price reflects the danger, he defended himself. And I want it in advance.


    Godfrey took out the small bag he had retrieved earlier that night and poured out half of its content onto the nearby table. A dozen iron coins fell out, all of them marked with intricate patterns and the mask of the Godking. Youll get half now. This should do.


    The scribe squinted in the faint light, stacking the coins after size. Fine, he muttered. Come back in two nights time. Ill have your information.


    Excellent. Ill be back. With a quick movement, Godfrey reached out and extinguished the candle, disappearing out of the room before the scribe could barely react.


    ~~~~


    The night remained young when Godfrey returned to the streets, keeping out of sight as before. He moved in and out, plotting a course that avoided the spire of each district; whereas all other buildings had t roofs, allowing for rainwater to be collected, the temples of the mes were distinguished by their tower rising up against the horizon.


    At some point, he changed strategy and moved straight towards the tallest spire. Its height made it visible from any location in Rund, regardless of distance. Ity in the very centre of the city, around which the districts were built, making it the eye of a maelstrom. Only here the monotony of buildings was broken. The major temple of the me dominated the area, both in size and height. It was nked by the offices of the shahrban, ruler of the city, and the main barracks of the Anausa. In front of them all was an open square akin to the ordinary districts, containing only a great statue of the Godking carved from marble. In the moonlight, the eyes of the statue glittered green beneath the masked face.


    With the utmost care, Godfrey moved along the edge of the square to reach the barracks. Finding a dark corner, he settled into the shadows and waited. At length, the doors of the barracks opened to send out a patrol. Godfrey waited as the soldiers disappeared down the street; keeping watch of the sentinels posted on the t rooftop, he made his way along the barracks wall to reach its small gate. Retrieving a piece of chalk, he left an borate mark upon the red bricks of the wall by the doorframe. Anyone entering the barracks would notice it, though for those looking with idle eyes, it would seem simply like dirt.


    This innocuous gesturepleted, Godfrey began moving away. He was nearly at the end of the square when he froze in his tracks. His head moved slightly as if following a noise, and his eyes closed with an expression of difort upon his face.


    The bronze gate of the temple swung open. A shape issued, d in dark leather and steel. Although bright fires burned on either side of the entrance, the figure seemed nheless wrapped in shadows. His face was masked in cloth, but underneath, his eyes shone yellow. des of different lengths were strapped to his belt; with his hands on their hilts, he walked onto the square.


    His eyes slowly moved across the open space, and beneath his mask, he could be heard taking a deep breath through his nose. Slowly walking forward without the faintest noise, he turned his gaze in Godfreys direction and inhaled once more. Moments passed while the shadow warrior assessed his surroundings; finally, he seemed satisfied and turned back into the temple.


    From deep within the darkness with his cloak huddled around him, Godfrey emerged and hurried away.


    ~~~~


    The following morning, as Vshs family were eating breakfast, a heavy knock was heard on their door. As soon as Vsh opened the door, three of the Anausa pushed past him to enter their home.


    Youre Vsh the potter? one asked brusquely, to which he nodded. Your wife and son?


    Yes, master.


    Their names?


    Myrod and Zayen, Vsh replied. The leader looked at another guard, who gave a nod. The third, meanwhile, had gone into the pottery workshop.


    You have a visitor, correct?


    Yes, master.


    Who is he?


    Javed, my brother.


    Where is he now?


    From the workshop, Godfrey walked in, yawning. Did you start breakfast without me?


    The soldier scowled at him. Thats him, I take it.


    Yes, master, Vsh replied.


    The red-robed warrior turned towards the table, where the boy sat, looking with wide eyes at the spears and swords in the room, while his mother stood behind him with a hand on his neck. You, boy. You know this man? He gestured towards Godfrey.


    Of course, Zayen told him. Thats my uncle.


    Whats his purpose here? the guard asked Vsh.


    Our father died recently. Javed brought some of the ashes.


    Where is it now?


    Vsh turned to point at a shelf, containing among other things a jar of ashes. There, master.


    The soldier gave a grunt in acknowledgement. Meanwhile, the third of theirpany returned from the pottery. Nothing out of the ordinary, he reported.


    You have permission to stay one week, the leader of the guards told Godfrey. Make sure to report to the shahrbans offices if you need an extension.


    Of course, good master, Godfrey replied.


    Were done here. All for the Godking, the soldier muttered with a monotonous voice.


    All for the Godking, Vsh replied with haste while the three guards left.


    As the door closed, the potter and his small family all looked at Godfrey. Unpleasant, but quickly done with.


    Zayen, get to the house of learning, his mothermanded him. Your practice begins soon. The boy obeyed quickly, putting on a small cloak to ward against the morning cold before he disappeared. How often can we expect this? she asked once the boy was gone.


    Ill be gone in a week as said, Godfrey told her.


    From our house or from Rund? she asked sharply.


    Ill be gone, Godfrey repeated, and the records will show that Vshs brother has left the city. You will not be disturbed further, I promise.


    Myrod sent her husband a look, and he shrugged in response. Fine. Let me get you something to eat. I expect youll be running around all day. She sent Vsh another look. Dont you have pots to make?


    ~~~~


    At noon, Godfrey entered a small establishment serving food and drinks. The ce was nearly full, serving the midday meal for many of those working in the area. Getting ale, he managed to find a few empty seats in a corner and upy one. Next to him, two old men were engaged in a game, some variant of chess, and Godfrey passed the time observing them y.


    There was a constant flow of customers arriving and departing, and half an hourter, another man entered and approached Godfrey. He wore ordinary clothes and was unarmed as the Godkingsw decreed of any peaceful subject, but his gait and behaviour betrayed him to be anything but ordinary. He moved quietly and with grace, weaving through the packed ce without touching others or attracting attention. His eyes took measure of the whole room, noting every person present. Only when he sat down opposite Godfrey did his gaze cease to wander and became fixed on the man in front of him.


    They both reached out to sp hands. I saw your mark this morning, Kamran said. Now that he was sitting down and dressed in his in clothes, nothing indicated that he was one of the dreaded ckboots, the raiders and spies in service to the Godking.


    Im d to see you, Godfrey replied. They both spoke quietly while leaning forward, letting the loud noise of the busy room mask their conversation. I didnt doubt you and the others would escape Tothmor, but its good to have sight of you even so. Arman and Dariush?


    Both are safe. They are north of the great stone, serving Jenaab Arash as scouts in Lakon. I was sent here to root out any rebels.


    Good. I was hoping at least one of you might be here.


    Kamran nced to the side. What is it?


    Sooner orter, patrols will not be returning from north of Rund, Godfrey exined quietly. I imagine the sasab will send you and other syag to investigate first.


    Probably.


    Dy as long as you can. Buy as much time as possible.


    Kamran nodded slightly. As you wish. He leaned closer. Has it begun? Have the drnderse?


    In small numbers, but more will follow.


    The ckboot let out a small sigh. Atst. Soon we may be free.


    Let that thoughtfort you, Godfrey suggested. We still have a long road ahead.


    Of course.


    I am meeting a contact tomorrow night. Let us meet the day after, if you are in the city.


    Very well, Kamran assented. Here or the other ce?


    The other ce. The usual arrangement concerning time and dys.


    Understood.


    Until the morrowes, Godfrey said in farewell.


    Until the morrowes.


    Godfrey got up and left; after waiting a short while, Kamran did the same.

 Chapter 134: In Crimson Colours

    Chapter 134: In Crimson Colours


    Close to evening, a procession of fifty soldiers marched on the road north of Rund. Thend around them grew dry and dusty as they progressed, and they were sweaty at the end of each days march, despite the coolness of their robes. Several days after leaving Rund, they reached the small outpost just south of the Langstan with its promise of fresh water.


    The ce was empty except for some horses and a few soldiers standing near the animals. Many of the Anausa removed their helmets and wiped their brows, sitting down or digging out rations to eat, while others crowded around the wells to fill their water skins. Idle conversation was exchanged along withughter, smiles, teasing, and gruff responses.


    One of the soldiers shouted a question to the men guarding the horses. When he received no reply, he approached until he could poke one of them in the chest, who responded by copsing to the ground.


    Like lightning from a clear sky, arrows descended and felled several ounders. Scores of Mearcians issued from the few tents, buildings, surrounding brushes, and other ces erected for concealment. Led by ukos with murderous delight on his face, thirty Mearcians fell upon the ounders from one direction; ric and thirty otherspleted the ambush from the other side. Meanwhile, arrows continued to fly, finding their targets in unprotected skulls.


    The ughtersted a quarter of an hour before all the oundersy dead. A handful of the Mearcians had injuries, a few of them severe, but none to threaten life. The whiterobes put down hammers and took out herbal remedies and bandages instead, getting to work on their woundedrades. Under Geberics supervision, the Mearcians gathered those in by injuries to the head, stripping the bodies of their pristine uniforms. Others dragged the corpses away, preparing a mass grave. The youngest of the band, including Matthew, were sent to calm the horses; the noise of the assault and the smell of blood had made some of them skittish. Stroking their muzzles and leading them to water, they soothed the beasts while the Mearcians continued to clear away the signs of carnage.


    ~~~~


    Aware of the constant danger that the Mearcians would seek to retake the Langstan, thus severing the ounder forces in Lakonia from the Reach, the Anausa kept a strong watch upon the wall. Sixty men guarded the ramps that served as an improvised bridge for their troops and supplies to pass the Langstan, and they had garrisoned every watchtower for ten miles to the west. Along with their constant patrols across southern Hthiod, they would have ample warning should any Mearcian forces approach from the north.


    Because of this, the ounder sentries took little heed upon seeing nearly forty soldiers marching on the dust road to approach their position on the Langstan from the south. The contingent was dressed in the red robes of the Anausa and wore their customary weapons. On the nearby watchtower, the sentinels watched their progression with little interest, as did the guards on the wall itself and at the foot of the ramp, huddling their cloaks around themselves to shield against the afternoon rain. One of thetter called out to the column as they reached his position; he promptly received a spear in his stomach as a response.


    A handful of the Mearcians, kingthanes all, rushed up the ramp to act as the spearhead of the assault. Behind them, theirpanions quickly surrounded the ounders on the ground and butchered them. Upon the wall, the kingthanes spread in either direction, mowing down their opposition. Discarding their spears, they drew swords to enter the watchtower and fight in close quarters, clearing it of enemies. A few archers followed them throughout their entire progression, thinning the opposition.


    A score of ounders had been on the ground north of the wall. They ran up the ramp upon realising that battle was afoot, but swift though they reacted, it was already toote. The Mearcians established a shield wall at the top of the ramp, letting their spears hold the ounders at bay while the remaining archers cut down their numbers. A few of the ounders, realising the futility in assaulting the shield wall, retreated and used their own bows instead. Seeing this, Doran gave themand to break formation and push down the ramp, overwhelming thest of the enemy.


    The rest of the Mearcians, except those severely hurt in previous shes, arrived soon after and set to task. The whiterobes had new injuries to tend to; nearly all the kingthanes had sustained many wounds, bearing the brunt of the assault. The dead were plundered for their equipment and the bodies removed. Most importantly, scouts were sent north to provide eyes into that region, and a small band under ukos marched west along the Langstan; this had only been the first watchtower to be reimed.


    Once satisfied that all his orders were being carried out, Brand joined his men digging graves.


    ~~~~


    Each patrol dispatched by the ounders through Lakonia consisted of twenty soldiers. That was more than enough to handle any small bands of enemies that might have slipped past the vignce of the ckboots, who scouted along the edges of ounder-held territory. These patrols were rarely eventful; southern Hthiod was sparsely popted close to the Langstan, and much of thend was dry, nearly barren. Along with the asional vige or farm, the Anausa encountered little else than olive trees.


    Further north, near the Order camp, they remained vignt; even with the ckboots keeping sharp watch, there was always a possibility of a skirmish. Near the Langstan, however, the Anausa spoke freely with each other and seemed unburdened by the state of war, especially on days of sunshine and clear skies.


    Their easy conversation was interrupted when they spotted another patrol. Idle spection upon seeing their counterparts turned into doubt. Hands reached for weapons, doubt was reced by suspicion, and finally, fighting ensued. The Mearcians charged with spears first, drawing swords afterwards as the skirmish became chaotic. Half the ounders tried to stem the advance while the other half drew bows.


    Blood was spilt on both sides, but the Mearcians were battle-hardened beyondpare, and they cut their opposition down. Thest of the ounders threw down his weapons and attempted to flee. Two arrows struck his back, sending him to the ground; without words spoken, Nichs and Quentin had reacted in unison.


    Their purpose done, the Mearcians quickly prepared to return to their brethren. Two of their number were badly hurt; a few cloaks were made into improvised stretchers. With a slow pace, the band set a course south, back to the Langstan.


    ~~~~


    At night, the Mearcians filled their bellies without reservation. They had seized more provisions than they could ever need from the ounders, and they had no interest in trying to cart the sacks and barrels around. Instead, they simply ate their fill. They had meat and fish to roast, flour for baking, and vegetables of every kind, providing for a sumptuous meal that many of the Mearcians had rarely known before. With Troy providing song and music and the weather mild, the warriorscked for nothing.


    ukos has returned. They cleared three towers before they turned back, Doran informed Brand. No losses, but they all seem wounded. Our scouts have found hills both north-east and south-west of the outpost. As the water runs through both, either would be ideal for setting up camp. On that note, we have also found three tents in total. I can have the men set one up for you and arrange better sleeping quarters. The young hignder, who was not only Brands nsman but also heir to n Ln, fell silent and awaited Brands reply in calm fashion without any air of pretence. Gone was any trace of the hot-headed warrior eager to prove himself that he had been onlyst year.


    We take to the southern hills for our camp, Brand decided. If needed, it will allow us to retreat further west. Use the tents as a sickhouse for those too wounded to move about. If you give them to Brother Caradoc, he can see them put to use.


    Yes, captain.


    When you do, ask him about our number of wounded.


    I already did, captain. We have thirteen soldiers who should not be fighting any time soon, and about a score with lesser wounds that will need a few days of rest.


    Good. The archers?


    They all have full quivers. With the ounders so fond of bows, finding arrows is childs y.


    Good, Brand reiterated. We rest here for tonight and move to our new camp tomorrow.


    Very well, captain. I will see to it. Doran inclined his head and left at a brisk pace.


    Dispersed around campfires, most of the warriors were busy shovelling food into their mouths, only taking breaks to exchange jests andughter. Brand sat at the edge of one such circle, silently eating the meat and bread provided him. Behind, one kingthane stood guard; even in camp with no sign of danger, ric insisted upon this measure at all times.


    Cutting smoked fish into pieces with his knife, Jerome nced at the captain from time to time. Even though others were near and with a kingthane by him, Brand radiated a sense of seclusion.


    Hes a quiet fellow, the captain, Jerome remarked.


    By his side, Matthew sat, happily gnawing on bread. Hes got a lot on his mind, no doubt. Ive known him to talk more at other times. Im his sergeant, you see.


    Are you really, Jerome remarked, not looking surprised in the least to hear this.


    Been that since the start, Matthew continued, his attention on his food.


    You must know him well.


    Oh, I sure do. His words came muffled as he stuffedrge morsels into his mouth.


    Do you think he will be leading any assaults himself? Ive not seen him draw his sword yet.


    Of course he will, Matthew replied, slightly indignant. When its necessary, the captain doesnt shy away from fighting. At Polisals, I saw him charge the enemymander straight on, killing him to turn the battle in our favour.


    Jerome nodded slightly, scratching his beard while the other hand fidgeted with his knife hilt. You must be thrilled to be in his personalpany. Fighting by his side and all that.


    Just doing my duty, Matthew said, straightening his back.


    I hope I get the same chance as you. Prove my worth to him.


    Im sure therell be an opportunity, Matthew dered with a magnanimous voice. Theres plenty of fights toe.


    Matthew! The sergeant snapped to attention as his captain called out his name. Have you practised today?


    No, sir!


    Get to it soon.


    Yes, sir. Matthew emptied his te and stood up. I must be off. But maybe I can put in a good word for you when the captain needs men for something.


    You can do that?


    Of course, Matthew smiled. He listens to me. See you around. The young sergeant left, and Jerome finished his own meal in silence.

 Chapter 135: Storm

    Chapter 135: Storm


    A few nights after his arrival in Rund, Godfrey once more skulked through the streets. With sword and cloak, he passed from one district to another, remaining unseen. He made his way to a building previously visited, soon after knocking on the door to one of its rooms. Manzik, he spoke quietly.


    The scribe opened, gesturing for Godfrey to enter quickly. As thetter did so, Manzik closed the door. You have my payment?


    Of course. Godfrey pulled out a coin purse. Your information is worth it, I take it.


    Youll be satisfied, Manzik promised. He turned towards the table in his room and began rummaging through pieces of parchment. Let me just find it. One moment.


    Godfrey frowned. You wrote it down? He narrowed his eyes. Why would you risk  He interrupted himself. You snake.


    The clerk turned around. Kaveh, I am not sure what you are implying


    Godfrey did not bother to hear more. He pulled his sword from its sheath with one hand and tore the door open with the other, stepping outside to enter the corridor. An expression of difort flew across his face, and he whipped his head around to stare down the hallway.


    From the stairs, a warrior cloaked in shadows appeared. He seemed barely visible except for the yellow of his eyes, focused on the de of sea-steel in Godfreys hands. Wrath, rage, storm, and song, he growled. What a prize that will make for my master. Already, each of his hands held its own de.


    Go to Hel, Godfrey muttered, pivoting on his heel. He leapt into Manziks room, sheathing his sword and mming the door. While the scribe babbled incoherent words, Godfrey took two steps towards the window. With one hand, he tore the shutters off their hinges and jumped through without hesitation. Hended with little grace on the ground outside, grunting upon impact.


    Over here! a voice shouted.


    Sneering, Godfrey got on his feet and began running, sharply pursued by Anausa soldiers and one shadow warrior.


    ~~~~


    While the Anausa spent the next hours spreading across the city in a search for Godfrey, thetter melted into the shadows of the night at first opportunity. Soon, he was moving under concealment. A few minutes of hiding here, two quick leaps across an alley there, and he was beyond their reach.


    Even so, he kept a quick pace walking back towards the home of Vsh and his family. It took him a few hours to pass through the districts, being forced to choose a longer route to circumvent the searching soldiers, but atst, the familiar building beckoned. Godfrey peeked in every direction and scurried across the street to reach the workshop. He stopped just shy of the door, closing his eyes and jerking his head abruptly. Exhaling slowly, he backed away, turned around, and vanished once more into the night of the city.


    Inside in the kitchen, a shadow warrior sat with yellow eyes trained on the door.


    ~~~~


    Godfrey woke after sleeping a few hours on a roof. Sunrise was close. He made sure his cloak and clothing concealed his sword, as such were forbidden for the Godkings subjects to carry, and quickly made his way to the street before the inhabitants underneath this roof woke as well.


    Once more, he moved through the city from district to district, passing monotonous buildings on end. He entered a tavern, indistinguishable from most others, and paid for food and drink with a few iron coins. People came and went like the tide, entering the ce for a while and departing after their meal. Godfrey endured both the quiet and the bustling hours in the same manner, sitting cidly at a table with a drink in front of him.


    Hours passed until noon approached and Kamran entered in his disguise as an ordinary citizen. He signalled the woman tending the tavern for something to drink and sat at the table. Javed, he mumbled. Is everything in order?


    The man I bribed turned out to be untrustworthy, Godfrey replied. In hindsight, I shouldnt be shocked.


    It was you we chasedst night. I thought so, but neither the fravashi nor the priest told us much. Im d you got away.


    I always get away. Godfrey shrugged. Whats worse is that I must start anew finding someone who to provide us with information.


    I could attempt it, Kamran suggested.


    They grew silent as the tavern keeper ced a mug on their table. Kamran dug out a coin and gave it to her; once she had returned to the circle of noise surrounding them, Godfrey spoke again. Far too dangerous. We cant risk any suspicion falling on you.


    As you say.


    Something else. Were any prisoners brought to the barracksst night? A potter and his family.


    Not a family, I think, Kamran rified. But I remember guards being sent to bring in a potter. I dont remember his name.


    It must be Vsh, Godfrey muttered. The man I was staying with. One of the shadow warriors was waiting for me in his house.


    Kamran shuddered slightly. Two of them on your trail. You must be careful, Javed.


    Ill be fine. But their presence here indicates that matters have been quelled in the cities. I think the Godking is preparing to send his armies north again.


    All the more reason we must learn what intelligence we can. Are you certain I shouldnt attempt to infiltrate the shahrbans offices?


    Completely. But there is something you can help me with meanwhile.


    Yes?


    I must free Vsh. I need your help if we are to escape unseen.


    I will think of a way. Maybe we can put you both in crates with arms sent to the smaller barracks in town.


    Something of the sort. He wont be in any state to sneak past the guards.


    Kamran exhaled. Probably. When I left, they had already begun the interrogation.


    Which is why we must do it already tonight.


    As you say. Kamran nodded. How do you get into the barracks? Should we do as in Tothmor?


    Godfrey shook his head. That only worked because the city was about to descend into chaos. Here, theyd know you brought me in. My disappearance would raise questions for you.


    How do you want it done, then?


    Godfrey nced at Kamrans in garbs. Im going to need your clothes.


    ~~~~


    At night, a ckboot crossed the great square in the centre of Rund. To his lefty the main temple of the city; a few priests and priestesses in their me robes could be seen walking in and out. Other than that, the area was empty. With cloth around his face, the ckboot walked past the statue of the Godking, keeping some distance between himself and the Servants of the me. Approaching the barracks, he looked up and locked eyes with the sentinel standing on the roof. They exchanged nods, and the ckboot continued past the doors.


    He stepped inside arge room that served as the kitchens. One third of the room contained equipment for making food, while the rest of the locale had tables and chairs where meals could be taken. During the day, it was constantly busy, and even at night, several guards upied the room. Seeing the ckboot enter, one of them got up from their game of cards.


    Who are you? They didnt say a syag was returning.


    Because the nature of our work is constantly reported to doormen, Godfrey snorted, removing the cloth masking his face.


    No need for lip, the soldier replied. You know we have to ask.


    Im Dariush. Ive been with the boys up north, harassing drnders, but I was sent back here. Apparently, you fellows are having trouble with some traitorous scum, and they need a big boy toe handle it. Godfrey winked with an insufferable smirk on his face.


    Got documents?


    Of course. Godfrey dug out a piece of parchment that gave his name and status.


    Hey, if youvee from the north, you must know how the war is going, asked one of the soldiers at the table.


    Its been quiet over winter, Godfrey told them, walking over to lean against a chair. Were waiting for reinforcements to make a push. You boys heard of any on their way?


    They shook their heads. Not a peep, but they wouldnt tell us, would they.


    Nor will they when we get sent out. Why give me time to say farewell to my girl when they can just wake us up at sunrise and tell us to be off.


    Dont worry, shell forget about you the moment were through the gate, someoneughed.


    Here, the first soldier said, giving Godfreys document back to him. Beds are upstairs, you know how it is. You had something to eat yet?


    Godfrey nodded. Im settled on that front. Just need some sleep before its back to work tomorrow. He yawned. See you boys around.


    Good night, Dariush, one of them called out, and as Godfrey left, they resumed their card y.


    Leaving the kitchens, Godfrey progressed deeper into the building. He passed the asional guard, sometimes a soldier walking to or from somewhere, exchanging nods and greetings each time. Moving downstairs when possible, he came across the storage for provisions and water, the armoury, and finally he could descend into the dungeons. None of the guards questioned his presence; interrogating prisoners was typical work for the ckboots.


    The actual dungeons were quite small; it was never the intention for the barracks to hold many prisoners, or hold them for long. In fact, half the space was taken up by racks. Chains along the wallsy empty, waiting to be put to use. Godfreys eyes quickly surveyed the room; it was dark apart from amp oil, fighting desperately to spread some light into the room.


    Stepping further in, Godfreys eyes fell upon one of the racks, which held the only other person present. Grabbing themp oil from its perch, he hurried forward and held the light until it fell upon the other mans face. It was Manzik.


    Godfrey let his eyes nce over the straps that held the former clerk bound. This was unexpected.


    Whos there? Please, no more! Manzik begged. His body bore the signs of interrogation.


    You need not fear. I have note to hurt you.


    Who  Kaveh? Is that you?


    None other. The fates are not without a sense of humour.


    Kaveh, please! They forced me to give you up. Please help me!


    Godfrey leaned forward and let his eyes pierce into Manziks. You lie. I can see the greed in you. How much did they offer for a rebel? More than you could resist.


    Its not true, Manzik pleaded. They tortured me, but I didnt say anything.


    Godfrey gave a sardonic smile. You said nothing because you know nothing. Only my name, and I wear them like hats.


    Please, you must release me before they take me to the temple!


    Release you? I ought to kill you for your betrayal. Godfrey moved one finger to prod Manziks exposed throat. But I will tell you a secret. He leaned down to whisper into the ear of the man strapped to the rack. There arews, of higher authority than you can imagine, holding me back. I am simply not allowed to harm one of your kind. He stood up straight again and took on the appearance of a vengeful spirit. Nor am I obliged to help you.


    Please, please, Manzik begged with tears. Dont let them drag me to the altar.


    Godfrey looked at him in contemtion. Perhaps I can be persuaded to release you if you tell me what I need to know.


    Anything!


    Another man was brought here, same time as you. Vsh, a potter of trade. Where he is now?


    Manzik wetted his dry lips. Release me, and Ill let you know.


    Derision was in Godfreysughter. I think Ill leave you here. Youre more trouble than youre worth. He made to turn away.


    Wait! They questioned him through the day. I saw it all. They finished with him hours ago. They


    They took him to the temple, Godfrey continued.


    My restraints, Manzik urged him. Please, release me.


    Godfrey turned his head askew, staring at Manzik. I think not. That seems an unnecessary risk.


    But  you promised!


    Terrible when you cannot trust in those you have dealings with, Godfrey remarked, grabbing a rag and stuffing it into Manziks mouth to silence him. Turning on his heel, he left without dy.


    Upstairs, he reached the armoury and slipped inside, where Kamran waited, still wearing ordinary clothing. Javed, Im sorry. I couldnt find you in time to warn you.


    Godfrey raised one hand to calm him. Understandable. I was too slow. I should have known they would finish with Vsh quickly. Poor man didnt know anything of value to them.


    What about his family?


    With the fravashi watching, we cannot risk approaching. Especially not while we have so much work to do.


    Javed, the moment you have the intelligence to satisfy you, you should leave. The Servants and the fravashi are tightening their grasp around the city, Kamran exined concerned. I cannot keep them off your trail.


    I dont expect you to. Buy the drnders time, hide their trail, Godfrey instructed him. That is all I require of you.


    As you wish. But we should meet daily while I am in the city, the ckboot suggested. We need to keep close contact.


    Agreed, but somewhere private. I know a room belonging to a scribe who wont be using it again, Godfrey exined dryly. It should be a few weeks before the shahrbans offices assign it to another.


    Very well, I remember the location. When should we meet?


    Around sundown, I think. Ill lie low for the day.


    Do you need any help leaving? Kamran gestured towards the surrounding barracks.


    Godfrey shook his head. Dariush can handle himself. With a faint smile, he turned and left the armoury; after waiting a while, Kamran did the same.

 Chapter 136: Rain and River

    Chapter 136: Rain and River


    Weeks after their arrival in the Reach, the Mearcians had established a camp in the hills south of the Langstan. The elevated terrain kept them shielded from hostile eyes, and a pleasant brook nearby supplied them with freshwater. Their numbers were diminished, but not due to casualties; given the need to both hide from ounder patrols while also finding new enemies to assault, many of the Mearcians were sent across the area to scout. Those that remained prepared for the next battle, rested their injuries, or busied themselves with chores.


    Matthew! Geberics voice rang out in growling fashion. Why are youzing about?


    Theres nothing that needs doing, the boy replied sullenly. He was lying on his back, enjoying the sun.


    Geberic moved to cast his shadow over him. Youre a sergeant to a captain, theres always work to do. Is his de sharp and oiled?


    He told me that was taken care of, and I shouldnt touch his sword, Matthew exined with a satisfied smile.


    Have you polished his bootstely?


    Yes, Matthew imed. A look from Geberic made him hurry to speak again. Well, hes wearing them right now, isnt he? Its not like I can polish them while hes walking around camp.


    In that case, find Lord Doran. He needs people to fill the water barrels.


    I did that yesterday, Matthewined.


    And youll do it every day if need be, Geberic roared at him. Get going, boy, before I whip your hide!


    Grumbling, Matthew got on his feet and moved through the camp, reaching the middle with several water barrels nearly the height of a man. Seeing his approach, Doran called out to him. Matthew, good. I need you to take at least two trips today, since it still has not rained.


    I figured. Sighing, Matthew picked up a yoke that had a bucket suspended on either end. He slung it over his shoulder and began walking towards the brook.


    ~~~~


    People from the camp could be found by the brook throughout the day, fetching water, bathing, or washing clothes. On asion, a few tried their luck fishing as well; not from ack of provisions, as the Mearcians had plenty taken as plunder, but from a desire to eat fresh.


    A man, one of the few inders in the band, stood on the bank with a spear. His eyes were trained on the flowing water, and his body kept still like a statue. There was a sh of silver in the brook reflecting the sunlight, and his arm shot forward, hurling the spear down. One momentter, he waded into the water to retrieve the spear and a fat pike on its tip. With a satisfied grin, he returned to drynd, walking back to camp.


    I wouldnt mind some fish, remarked Sandar. He was bathing along with a few of the other kingthanes.


    Plenty of spears, someone remarked. Nothings stopping you.


    Im not good at that. You do it, Hrodgar.


    The other man snorted derisively in response.


    Its not the same as in the Citadel, said a third of the kingthanes, but you cantin. We got bread, meat, and even a barrel of ale on asion.


    You dont know Sandar, Hrodgar imed. He always finds something toin about.


    Thats hardly fair, protested the man in question. Would I prefer to be in a city with a tavern and some honest, Mearcian women? Sure.


    They stared at him. But? one of them asked, encouraging him to continue.


    What?


    You sounded like you were going to continue.


    Sandar scrubbed his arms. I wasnt.


    Youre incorrigible.


    True, I wouldnt mind sleeping in a soft bed. Withpany. And wine.


    But? came a second attempt. But you are at least happy to be doing your duty? But you follow orders dly? But you know that honour and oath matter most?


    But nothing, Sandar replied with irritation.


    Incorrigible.


    You ever think about Middanhal? asked Hrodgar. Whos the captain now? Is the new prince any better than the old?


    Not really, Sandar said, getting out of the water to lie down and dry in the sun.


    Sometimes, replied the third man in theirpany. But I have been a kingthane for twenty years, and Ive never felt more at peace than I do right now. Theres honour in serving, they always tell us, but the honour of a thane can never exceed that of his lords. If I die in thisnd, at least theyll say of me that I died with honour.


    Ill drink to that, Hrodgar remarked with a wry smile, bending down to cup some water with his hand and lead it to his mouth.


    ~~~~


    The whiterobe prodded Gwen in her side as shey on the ground, making her wince. Stop that, she growled.


    The priest straightened up and looked at Brand. See? That wounds not even close to healed.


    Im fine, Gwen insisted. What good am I, lying about like this?


    Crouching by her side, Brand sent her a disapproving look. What good will you be if you disturb that wound and need another two weeks of bedrest?


    Thats hardly going to happen. Gwen tried to sit up, but a firm hand from Brand on her shoulder kept her down.


    Gwen, I can spare you for a few days. I cannot spare you for weeks. You will remain at rest until the brother says otherwise.


    Tyrant, she grumbled.


    Captain! Jerome came moving quickly towards them.


    With a vague smile, Brand stood up and turned. Yes?


    Jerome nced at the kingthane ever present at Brands side. Brother Caradoc asked me to find you. Some trouble, though he didnt tell me what.


    Very well. He turned his head to look at Gwen. Remember my instructions, he told her with a stern voice before departing.


    With quick steps and followed by both thane and heathman, Brand moved through the camp until he reached a small cluster of tents. Everyone in this part of the camp were either whiterobes or wounded, all of them taking orders from the hignder priest, Caradoc Whitesark. Like most of his brothers, his white robe was covered in dried blood by now.


    Arriving, a curious scene met them. A soldier sat on the ground in front of a tree stump; a whiterobe stood behind him, holding him fast by the shoulders, and Caradoc stood by the side, carrying a hatchet in one hand.


    Brother Caradoc, you had need of me?


    Lord Adalbrand, I need you to take sense into this muttonhead! He gestured towards the soldier on the ground.


    What is it?


    He got two of his fingers sliced some days ago, and now the wounds are rotting. We need to cut.


    Im fine! imed the soldier.


    Brand crouched down to look him straight in the eyes. Wigstan, show me.


    With reluctance, the warrior ced his right hand on the tree stump. The little finger and itspanion were bandaged, and the cloth had a dirty, red colour. A faint smell, sickening in nature, emerged from the hand. Itll be fine, captain, it just needs a few more days. He tried to move his shoulders free, but the whiterobe kept him locked in ce.


    That rot spreads, youll lose the whole hand, you damn fool! roared Caradoc.


    I dont want to have only half a hand, captain, Wigstan pleaded. I have a girl at home, waiting for me. What if shell be disgusted by me?


    What if I lost two fingers? asked Brand.


    Pardon, captain?


    Would you think less of me if I lost two fingers?


    Of course not, Wigstan dered.


    Brand ced his right hand on the tree stump. I will let the good brother take two of mine if you will do the same.


    Captain, thats You know I cant let that happen. All the others will beat me purple!


    I cannot let you lose your hand, Wigstan, or worse. I need every warrior in this camp. You can swing a sword without two fingers, but not without your hand. Certainly not if you are dead. Brand stared with a calm demeanour at the other man.


    Captain, please, Wigstan pleaded.


    Brother Caradoc, is your axe sharp? asked Brand.


    The whiterobe hefted the hatchet. Sharper than a snakes wit.


    No matter what, your fingers are lost, Wigstan. The only question is whether I must lose mine as well to persuade you. The choice is yours.


    With a pitiful expression, Wigstan gave the slightest of nods. Fine. Get your hand away, captain. But for gods sake, do it quick.


    Bite down on this, Caradoc instructed, giving a thick piece of leather to Wigstan.


    You wont miss, right? the soldier asked before the leather went into his mouth.


    Miss? Boy, dont insult me! With swift, determined motions, the whiterobe grabbed Wigstans wrist and let the axe fall. Two fingers rolled away.


    Jerome, Brand spoke as he stood up. Throw those in the fire, will you?


    The heathman stood bewildered a moment until he caught on. Yes, milord, he hurried to reply, picking up the fingers with a touch of disgust upon his face while the priests made sure the new wounds were treated and tended to.


    ~~~~


    Just outside of camp, Nichs and Quentin could be found. They stood with the shorter bows favoured by the ounders. Some distance away, they had set up a target made of folded cloth. Quentin put an arrow on the string, took aim while pulling back, and released. The arrow flew in an arc to strike the target.


    Lowering the bow, Quentin tugged on the string a few times. Not quite as powerful, Id say, but damn urate.


    Nichs readied an arrow and shot it as well; itnded so close to Quentins, their barbs touched. Its a good bow, he assented. It wont prate a target in good armour, but itll do well against most. The ounders dont seem to wear as heavy mail as our boys do, so it makes sense they didnt think their bows needed to be stronger than this.


    Lucky for the de boys, they do wear heavy mail, Quentin remarked. He sent a few more arrows flying in rapid session. Good draw. It doesnt snap on the release.


    You didnt pull it back all the way, Nichs argued, giving it a try himself. Huh, it really doesnt.


    I told you.


    Nichs lowered the bow with an apprehensive expression. Quentin, do you think Ellen will be there when we get back to Middanhal?


    Himils balls, this again?


    Its on my mind.


    Of course shell be there. Whered you imagine shed go?


    Thats not what I meant, Nichs told him, slightly irritated. She wont be getting any letters until we return to Adalmearc. What if we winter here? Itll be over a year. Shell think Im dead.


    Were not wintering here, Quentin told him dismissively. We got no tents, barely any fuel, and only the supplies we can plunder. Not to mention, once the ounders grow wise to what were doing, these hills will be swarming with enemies. The savages may be dim-witted, but even they will know of our presence before winter.


    Still, itll be a long while before she hears from me. What if she grows tired of waiting for me to return?


    Yes, what if? Are you going to leave us?


    Of course not, Nichs protested. Im not deserting.


    So no matter what she does, youll be staying here. Why worry about it, then?


    Nichs chewed on his lower lip. I cant help it.


    Quentin gave a sigh. Lets get back to camp. Maybe some food and song will change your tune.


    ~~~~


    Matthew shuffled into camp with the yoke across his shoulders. Reaching the water barrels, he put the yoke down, careful not to spill the contents of the buckets. His burden removed, he unsped each bucket and poured them into the nearest barrel. Just as he was done, something lightly touched his face. It happened again, bing a pattern. Looking up, he saw clouds and stretched out his hands. Raindrops met them.


    Matthew lowered his eyes to see the rain falling into the great water barrels, slowly filling them. Really? he eximed in defeat.


    Dejected, he went through camp until he reached where the captains men were gathering for a meal. Stew was boiling over the fire, and Troy was strumming his lute. y On the Field of Blue, Troy, someone requested.


    Quentin isnt here, and I havent learned the words yet, the bard admitted with embarrassment.


    Ill sing it, Jerome suggested. I always liked it.


    Very well, Troy assented and began the tune. Haltingly at first, Jerome soon found his voice, even as his eyes darted towards Brand.


    The captain had been sitting a small distance away, secluded in prayer; it was Rihimils Day, the day of his miraculous escape from execution in Middanhal. His obeisance done, Brand joined the others, receiving a te. Doran took a seat next to him. ukos and his band are back. They cleared three towers and left two sentries. He wants to return with a new group tomorrow and clear at least two more.


    Brand smiled. I am sure he would. Tell ukos he is to rest for a change. He is not to leave camp tomorrow. When he inevitablyins, tell him toe see me, and I will repeat mymand to his face.


    A hint of a wry smile appeared on Dorans face. Very well, captain. He is right, though. Three miles is too close to the wall crossing. We should push the ounders back further.


    Brand nodded. We should. I will lead a patrol myself. Find me fifteen rested warriors tomorrow, including two archers.


    Pardon me, captain. The kingthane guarding Brand at this particr hour suddenly spoke up. If youre going out tomorrow, Id like to join. My de is getting rusty.


    Brand turned his head to give the thane a slight nod. As you wish, Leofric. He looked at Doran again. Fourteen warriors.


    Understood. We have supplies for at least a month, Doran continued, and that is excluding the watchtowers that ukos cleansed today.


    Very well. Organise a train to collect it tomorrow, Brand ordered. How many horses do we have?


    Five, captain, and two carts.


    Good. Brand turned his head slightly up towards the skies; they responded with the droplets of water that were raining down. I assume water is not an issue. Nearby, Matthew coughed.


    Not at all, captain.


    Thank the gods for small blessings. Brand smiled, setting aside his te. He moved to the primitive bed that provided him rest at night,y down, and fell asleep in the soft rain.

 Chapter 137: A Light in the Dark

    Chapter 137: A Light in the Dark


    Godfrey slept in Manzik the scribes room when there was a knock on the door. Stirring, he got up and grabbed his sword in its scabbard.


    Its me, Kamrans voice spoke.


    Letting go of the weapon, Godfrey opened the door to let him in. How is the situation?


    The same. Theres no sign that theyre any closer to discovering you than before  or any of us, for that matter.


    That is reassuring. What about Vshs wife and son? Are they still being watched?


    I do not know, Kamran admitted. I have not been involved with that.


    What would you assume?


    Kamran gave a shrug, sitting down. Hard to tell. The knowledge that a de of Ruin is in the city has put the fravashi in an uproar. On one hand, this might make them patient as the desert for rain. On the other hand, they seem eager to punish any rebellion and make a show of force.


    Godfrey sat down on the bed, scratching his cheek. Well be here a while regardless. Lets wait a bit longer until they grow tired, and then well arrange for Myrod and Zayen to be taken elsewhere.


    As you say.


    Ill go to the shahrbans offices tomorrow and get documents for them both. Godfrey patted the deted coin purse in his belt. Ill have little left.


    I can attempt to bring you more coin, Kamran suggested.


    If you can. Else Ill have to steal some, Godfrey suggested. Regardless, what other tidings do you bring?


    Not much. There is talk of Jenaab Sikandar bringing an army to Rund soon, but there has been talk of that for a long while. I and others of my brotherhood are being sent beyond the cityter this week to hunt the drnders.


    Do you think you can avoid discovering them?


    Kamran looked doubtful. Maybe. I fear they are too many to hide well.


    Let us hope for the best. We are slowly strangling the Godkings armies in Hthiod. If this canst another two months, our position will be strengthened greatly. Perhaps enough to dy the Godkings advance another year.


    Two months is a very long time, Javed.


    I always aim high, Godfrey said with a smile. He sped Kamrans arm. Until the morrowes.


    Until the morrowes.


    ~~~~


    In the evening just after dusk, Godfrey left the shahrbans offices in the centre of the city. Safely tugged away inside his clothing, a few documents hid themselves; his coin purse, on the other hand, was empty. Stepping out on the square, he saw people arriving from all directions. He turned his eyes towards the middle and the pyre erected in front of the statue of the Godking. Earlier, it had been empty. Now, a woman stood tied to a stake and gagged. Next to it, a small pedestal was ced; a Servant of the me had taken position upon it, so that he was visible to the crowd.


    Behold the sphemer! he cried out, gesturing to the woman. Her sins are many, but chief among them is rebellion against the Godking! In her ck heart she plotted treason, and even now she refuses to repent!


    sphemer! shouted many in the crowd. Those most willing to witness the spectacle had pushed to the front, and they were eagerly watching and shouting their disdain for all to hear.


    Only the divine mes of our Godking may purify her spirit! His eyes reflected the same fire mentioned in his words and woven into his garments. Only death may offer her release!


    His words fuelled a frenzy in the crowd. Death! Death! Death!


    This woman is Myrod, married to Vsh the potter. Never let her name be spoken again! As the mes devour her flesh, may they burn away all memory of her name, her life, and all that she was!


    Burn! Burn! Burn!


    The priest turned to face Myrod and was given a torch by a soldier. Even a traitor and sphemer may serve a purpose. Know that your sacrifice proves our devotion to the Godking. Soon, the god in the mountain shall awaken, he dered. Raising one fist in the air, he threw the torch onto the pyre. All for the Godking!


    All for the Godking!


    Godfrey turned away and left the square. Myrods muffled screams followed him for a long while.


    ~~~~


    The next day at noon, Kamran appeared in Manziks room again. I bring bad tidings.


    I know. I happened to be present.


    Death by fire, Kamran muttered. Their cruelty knows no bounds.


    We can do nothing further for her, Godfrey dered. The same is not the case for Zayen.


    Im not sure. The boy has been taken to the temple. They will make a Servant of him.


    Godfrey exhaled, staring into the air. I feared as much. He is a bright boy.


    He is beyond our reach.


    Not beyond mine. Godfrey raised his head to look at Kamran. I will get him.


    Javed, Kamran objected, you always urge us to avoid risk! The fravashi, the Servants  you cannot hope to avoid detection!


    Kamran, you need not concern


    Javed, he repeated, I know you have powers at yourmand that confound even a syag like me. None other has evaded the fravashi the way you have. But


    Kamran. Now it was Godfreys turn to interrupt. Both his parents are dead because of me. The Servants will beat obedience into the boy until he is a mindless ve. He turned to look at the closed window as if his eyes could pierce the obstacle to see beyond. Hundreds have died upon the streets or the altars because the Godking ordered them to die, and because I ordered them to resist.


    You cannot me


    I can. Every life lost is a burden I must bear, and I do so willingly. But I will not bear more than I must. I will see the boy freed.


    Kamran stared at him, silent for a moment. What do we do?


    I will get the boy and hide him here. You must find a way to get him out of the city. Come collect him tonight.


    Kamran let out his breath. Very well. See you tonight.


    Tonight.


    ~~~~


    Godfrey dove in between two buildings, looking around. Seeing himself alone, he bent down and tried to pry one of the cobbled stones loose from the ground. It did not move in the least. Frowning, he tried its neighbour with sameck of sess. Straightening up, he began stomping on every stone on the path, moving methodically forward. Finally, one of them budged slightly. With patience and long nails, Godfrey slowly made the stonee loose until he could lift it up.


    It revealed a hole, from which Godfrey pulled out a simple sack. He dug his hand inside and took out a robe; it was red in colour with patterns of fire woven into the fabric. He dusted it off a few times; it was clearly old and worn. Looking around once more, finding himself still alone, Godfrey began removing his own clothes.


    ~~~~


    None might enter the temples of the Godking of their own ord, save the priesthood of the me and the fravashi. The ordinary citizens were only allowed inside if summoned or dragged inside by the Servants, and few returned. Because of this, most only knew the temples from the outside with the fires burning on either side of the gate. Dressed as a priest and walking with determined steps, Godfrey crossed the square to enter the great house of worship in Rund.


    Past the gate, he stood in a long hallway. On either side of him, the mask of the Godking had been carved into the wall to stare down at him. At every pace, another set of masks watched his progression to the end of the passageway, where arge brazier burned. The fire provided plenty of light, but being the only source, it also cast long shadows throughout the space. Moving in this intery of light and shadow, Godfrey reached the brazier and had to walk either left or right.


    Peering in either direction, Godfrey chose left. He immediately ran into one of the Servants. Who are you? asked the priest brusquely. Ive not seen you before.


    Indeed, Brother, I am newly arrived from the seventh district. My Keeper sent me here.


    What for? The Servants eyes nced over Godfrey with suspicion.


    She thought I had been  remiss in some of my duties. I am to present myself for re-education.


    The priest gave a cruel smile. Well deserved, no doubt. Your robe is dirty and worn! His expression turned contemptuous. Is this how you approach the altar of the Godking?


    Godfrey turned his head down, looking like a shameful dog. Forgive me, Brother.


    It is not I that you must beg forgiveness from, the Servant sneered. Come with me! He grabbed hold of Godfreys arm and dragged him deeper into the temple.


    They ventured through narrow corridors same as before with braziers to summon shadows and the mask of the Godking staring down. At length, they reached the very centre of the building. It was a small room, entirely square. Ity directly beneath the spire that stood the tallest structure in Rund. From every corner hung torches, shining light upon the centre. It contained a stone b, carved in such a manner to mirror the shape of the room; upon it stood a blood-red statue of the Godking.


    Wait here, the priestmanded Godfrey. He left the room. A momentter, Godfrey moved to the edge of the door and peered outside. Seeing nobody, he took a step forward; hearing the rustling of robes, he immediately jumped back inside the room and adopted an expression of idleness.


    The Servant returned. In one hand, he had a knife and bowl; in the other, he held chains to drag a man with him. The prisoner looked pale to the point of sickly and malnourished. Pulling on the chains in his hand, the priest made the shackled man stumble to the ground.


    He held out the knife and bowl to Godfrey. Let me see you perform the sacrifice, he demanded with a harsh voice.


    Godfrey epted the tools, staring down. The knife was clean, reflecting the light from the torches. He looked at the prisoner as the light fell upon him. Besides showing the signs of torture, the dancing mes revealed him to be Vsh. No sign of recognition suggested that the potter knew his executioner. Brother, I cannot, Godfrey began to exin. I have not cleansed myself in a long time. I am not worthy.


    Are you serious? The Servant stared at him with wild eyes.


    Im afraid so, Brother.


    Pathetic. The priest grabbed the knife with one hand; the other took hold of Vshs hair, holding his head close to the altar stone. Watch, you worm. With a steady hand, he cut the throat of the condemned, spilling his blood. All for you, my god, my king, the Servant whispered with half-closed eyes. He ran the t side of the de against his cheek, smearing the warm blood against his face. We beseech you, awaken from your sleep! Lead us, your faithful, we beg. Taking the bowl from Godfrey, he pulled up the dying victim to increase the bleeding, catching some of the red liquid. Slowly, the priest poured it onto the statue. All for the Godking!


    All for the Godking, Godfrey repeated with less enthusiasm.


    No longer enraptured, the Servant turned his head sharply towards Godfrey. Help me clean this up. Once you are done, I think a night in the tower without food or water will do you good. Tomorrow, when you have had time to reflect upon your many failings, the Keeper will have to decide your fate.


    Yes, Brother.


    ~~~~


    The tower of the temple contained a spiral staircase, ending in a small room right underneath the roof. It had no windows, only the mask of the Godking etched into the walls. Other than the hatch in the floor, it contained nothing but a smallmp oil burning a fickle me. In the dark with nothing but the fire to focus on, acolytes of the me were sent here to contemte their weaknesses and prepare them for service in the priesthood. It was also a typical punishment for Servants who had neglected their duties. Few experienced it twice; if punishment were needed more than once, usually only sacrifice upon the altar would suffice.


    Staring at the oilmp, Godfrey sat on the floor. Minutes passed by, one by one, coalescing into hours. It had been early evening when he went inside the temple; it was past midnight when he finally stirred. Blinking repeatedly, he stood up and stretched his body. He opened the hatch and stepped through. There was no guard of any sort. It was unthinkable that any would seek to leave the tower before being permitted; the punishment for this was not in doubt. Undisturbed, Godfrey descended down the staircase.


    Reaching the second floor, he left the stairs and began a slow search of the building. These were the living quarters of all residents of the temple, much like the structure of the barracks; creativity was not encouraged among the Godkings subjects. All regardless of rank or age slept in these halls, twelve beds per room. Godfrey silently passed through each of them until he found his mark. With one hand, he covered Zayens mouth; the other shook the boy awake.


    Mumbling, Zayen squirmed to be free; his eyes were wide open in fright. Zayen, its me, Godfrey whispered, leaning closer.


    The boy finally became calm, and Godfrey removed his hand. Uncle, he whispered.


    Put this on. Godfrey handed him the tunic hanging by the bed while Zayen got up. Dont speak. Ill exin when we are outside.


    Doing exactly as he was told, Zayen put on the tunic and took Godfreys hand. Thetter led him out of the hall and back to the staircase; there was only one way in or out of the temple. With hasty steps, they walked through the empty corridors, where light and darkness flickered in constant dance, until they approached the entrance.


    A start went through Godfrey just as they entered thest hallway before the exit. In the opposite end, a shadow warrior walked in through the gate. Beneath his mask, his yellow eyes were set on Godfrey.


    For a moment, nobody moved. Reacting first, Godfrey picked up Zayen, turned, and bolted. Snarling, the shadow warrior took up pursuit.


    With the entrance blocked, Godfrey had no recourse but to flee deeper into the temple. He passed by the altar room, returning to the spiral staircase. He already gasped for breath from sprinting; under his arm, Zayen was crying. Reaching the second floor, a few Servants could be seen sticking their heads out of the halls in search of themotion. Godfrey continued further up.


    He reached the hatch and pushed it open forcefully, breaking the bolt. Once more he was in the upper room inside the spire, surrounded by only walls. At the foot of the stairs, the shadow warrior closed in on his prey.


    Holding Zayen back, Godfrey punched straight at a brick in the wall. It flew out. Inserting his hands into the hole, Godfrey pulled back on the remaining stonework. He groaned in exertion as the wall began to crumble. The bricks fell to the ground, widening the gap.


    He crouched low to sling Zayen onto his back. Hold on tight, he told the boy, cing Zayens little arms around his neck. Keeping a firm grip on the boys hands, Godfrey took a deep breath and jumped through the hole in the wall.


    Hended on the lower roof of the temple, feet t on the ground. Without hesitation, he took several leaps forward, jumping from the roof to the street below.


    Wincing, Godfrey stood up. Turning his head, he saw the shadow warrior standing in the gap newly formed in the spire, returning his stare. With Zayen still on his back, Godfrey disappeared into the city.


    ~~~~


    Godfrey returned to Manziks room that had served as his home in thest few days. Zayen was walking by his side; the boy had not spoken since the temple.


    Take a seat, Godfrey bade him, gesturing to the bed. Maybe you should sleep. Zayen sat down as directed and did nothing further. Are you thirsty? Godfrey took a cup and filled it with water before giving it to the boy. He epted it into his hands, but did nothing else. Staring at him for a moment, Godfrey eventually sat down next to him.


    They told me my parents are dead.


    Godfrey swallowed. Yes.


    That they were traitors to the Godking. Tears began to fill the boys eyes.


    Godfrey ced one arm around Zayens shoulders. Your mother and father were good people. Never doubt that. They did not deserve what happened to them.


    Then why did it happen?


    Godfrey licked his lips. The Godking rules your people, Zayen, but he is not a good or kind ruler. Nor is he a god, regardless of what he pretends.


    How can that be? At the temple, the Servants told me how he created the world and gave us life.


    Those are lies, Zayen, all lies. Nothing that the Servants have told you is true.


    But if hes not a god, then why does he have all the temples? They said my father  my father was sacrificed the boy lost his voice. Couldnt you have saved him? Or my mother?


    Godfrey swallowed. I wanted to. But if I had intervened to save your parents, I would not have been able to save you, my boy. They would have known to watch you.


    I wish you had saved them, Zayen dered through tears. I wish they had given me to the Godking instead of them.


    Godfrey pulled him closer, letting the boy cry against the Servants robe that he still wore. No, boy, none should be given to that monster. The Godking is no god, but he is a tyrant. His rule is close to absolute, and he kills without mercy to keep it so. He deserves only our deepest contempt.


    I dont understand anything, Zayen sobbed.


    Godfrey stroke the boys hair. Long ago, more years than I care to think, your people were free, Zayen. They worshipped truth and lived in peace. But a great enemy came to them, seducing them. He turned truth into lies and stole the fire, making it his symbol. Sorrow filled his voice as he spoke. He has remade your people in his image, causing untold agony in the process.


    Why? asked Zayen with a distorted voice.


    Godfrey stared into the air. A lust for power, I fear.


    Why did my mother and father go against him? Why did they have to  his voice broke off again.


    Because under his rule, people will continue to die. His hunger for sacrifice can never be satisfied. There will never be peace until he is gone.


    How can that ever happen? He rules the world!


    No, boy, that is what he wants you to think. Beyond the borders of hisnds, there are people fighting him openly. The world is far bigger than what they preach in the temples.


    The Servants mentioned that, Zayen assented with a nod. He had pulled back a little, and he cried less. That the enemies of the Godking live at the ends of the world. They are savage people, eating their children and living in filth.


    Nothing more than lies, Godfrey assured him. Granted, some of them could use more regr bathing, he continued with a wry smile. But they are good people, living free from the tyranny of the Godking. One day, so shall your people as well.


    Uncle, I have another question.


    Yes?


    Why do you keep saying your people? Zayen asked.


    After a moment, Godfrey gave a smile. Good question.


    Youre not my uncle, are you?


    I am not. But I wish I were.


    Me too. The boy finally drank from the cup of water he had been holding.


    There was a soft knock on the door. Its me.


    Giving Zayens shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Godfrey stood up and opened the door. Kamran walked in. Seeing the ckboot, Zayen gave a shriek and dropped his cup.


    Zayen, its fine, Godfrey hurried to say, moving back to the boy. This is Kamran. He is a friend.


    Hes a syag, the boy mumbled with wide eyes.


    He is, and one of my dearest friends, Godfrey told him. Every day, he risks his life fighting the Godking, just like your parents did.


    Approaching cautiously, Kamran knelt by the bed. Well met, Zayen. I am sorry about what happened to your mother and father.


    The boy gave no reply to this.


    I am going to take you away from this city. Well find a ce for you far from here, where the Servants will never get to you. Do you understand?


    I think so.


    You will have to trust me and do exactly as I say. Can you do that? asked Kamran.


    Zayen looked at Godfrey, who nodded. Yes, he mumbled.


    Good. We should not linger, Kamran dered.


    One moment. Godfrey opened one of the drawers in the room and pulled out a folded document. This may help. It has the boys description, but the name is left nk. It has already been signed by the shahrban.


    Kamran stuffed the paper inside his clothing. Itll be many days before I return. I am to scout the hills for at least a week.


    Understood. I will be here on your return, most likely. One more thing. From another drawer, Godfrey pulled out the wooden horse that he had given Zayen upon his first arrival. This is yours. With a mute expression, the boy epted the figurine.


    Kamran stuck out his hand towards Zayen; hesitantly, the boy took hold of it. Dont worry, Kamran said. Youre safe with me. He looked up at Godfrey. Until the morrowes.


    Godfrey watched the pair depart. Until then.

 Chapter 138: Rage

    Chapter 138: Rage


    Before sunrise, fourteen men and women chosen by Doran stood assembled in the Mearcian camp. Along with the sergeant Matthew and the kingthane Leofric, they gathered around Brand. The group was mixed and representative of the band as a whole, consisting of a few more kingthanes and other drakonians, some hignders and heathmen, and even a daleman. All of them wore the red colours of the Anausa and their shields.


    Our goal is to clear three watchtowers east of the crossing. This will give us more warning, should the enemy move down the Langstan or otherwise threaten our control of the crossing from that side, Brand exined. Any questions? The warriors shook their head, indicating their readiness to depart. The captain turned towards Doran, who was nearby. You havemand in my absence. He looked at the assembled soldiers once more. Let us move out.


    They set into motion with Brand at the head of the column; among others, the rear was brought up by Jerome.


    ~~~~


    Keeping a good pace, the group reached the Langstan before noon. Making use of the ounders ramps, they ascended onto the wall and followed it east. All the towers west of the crossing had been cleansed of enemies; it was time to push back the ounders control in the other direction.


    The first of the eastern towers was empty; ukos in his zeal, leading a band much like this one, had done that days ago.


    A mileter, Brands warriors reached the next tower, also cleared by ukos and his warriors. They were hailed by two sentinels, left behind.


    Anything of note? Brand asked as they all convened on the upper floor of the tower.


    Its been quiet, one of the guards replied. Weve not seen any signs of the salt-lickers.


    Good. Upon our return, you will be relieved of duty and maye with us back to camp.


    Aye, captain. Well keep the watch until then.


    Brand gave a small nod to his followers. Move out. The seventeen men and women arrayed themselves like a patrol and marched out of the tower, following the wall eastwards.


    ~~~~


    The ounders closest to the crossing kept their vignce; they spotted Brand and his soldiers at a long distance. The stolen uniforms did little to ay suspicions; the ounders had grown wise to the fact that Mearcian soldiers could be close by. They hailed the approaching warriors, who had no response; none of them spoke the same tongue as the ounders. The rm was raised and all pretence abandoned.


    Rather than wait, the ounders opened the door between the wall and the tower and charged forward with spears lowered. Meanwhile, many of their brethren used their bows atop the tower, sending arrows down. The few archers among the Mearcians returned the favour, but the angle and crions meant they had little chance to hit.


    The attackers lowered their spears as well, leading to a stalemate as neither could gain ground. This suited the ounders, keeping the Mearcians on the wall and exposed to arrows from above. Acting quickly, a Hthian longbowman jumped onto the crions next to him. The extra elevation would not avail him against the ounder bowmen, but it did afford him line of sight above the heads of hispatriots. With speed, he sent several arrows against the door opening, hitting more than one ounder and disrupting their spear wall. His position also made him an obvious target, and ounder arrows flew against him. One of them hit and sent him hurling down, but the damage was done.


    Upon a quick nod by Brand, Leofric at his side was spurred into action. He threw his spear forward like a javelin. It was too heavy and unbnced to have any deadly effect, but it further disturbed the ounders formation. Meanwhile, the kingthane drew his sword and leapt into closebat. He felled one soldier and pushed the others back, creating an opening behind him.


    Taking advantage of this, Brand entered the fray, wielding the sword of sea-steel. It cut spears in twain with ease. The rings upon chain shirts burst when struck. Flesh, blood, and bone offered no resistance. For the first time since their sojourn into the Reach, the soldiers saw the Dragonheart in battle and how his de wrought devastation. Enemy after enemy fell to his strikes. Spurred by the sight of this, the Mearcians roared and charged into the watchtower.


    With the ounder formation broken, their ability to resist had been lost as well. They were simply no match in closebat for the experienced Mearcians. Once the upper and lower floors had been cleared, a handful continued up the stairs to kill the remaining enemies on the top of the tower. The remaining encircled Brand, staring with reverence as he cleaned his sword and sheathed it.


    ~~~~


    All in all, twenty oundersy dead, and the Mearcians had lost none. The victory still bore a cost. The longbowman whose arrows had opened the way into the tower had taken an arrow to the chest, leaving him unable to fight on; he would have to remain here until the band returned for him on their way back. Besides him, several of the others had taken wounds, most notably Leofric, who had gone first into the assault. He disdained any notion of being left behind, and in the end, sixteen warriors continued towards the next tower.


    As before, stolen uniforms did not fool the ounders for long. Arrows flew as the Mearcians approached with raised shields. This time, the door remained closed; instead, these ounders relied solely upon their archers for the initial attack.


    Several of the attackers dropped their spears to climb up the outerdder hewn into the stone. Meanwhile, Brand summoned a warrior to the front who had brought a great axe. While dressed in red for the moment, he was a whiterobe and knew how to handle the tool in his hands. With speed, he began reducing the door to kindling.


    As his axe thrashed the nks, spears were thrust through the gap. The priest roared in anger, aiming his axe once more. He struck where the hinges sat, finally destroying the door.


    Over the protestations of his thane, Brand leapt intobat as the first. With his shield protecting him, his sword hacked spears to pieces and let him carve a path forward. Seeing the de of sea-steel, the ounders cried out in terror; some turned to flight. Those remaining were cut down without mercy as the Mearcians spilled into the room.


    Some hurried upstairs to help those that had scaled the tower; nked by Leofric and Matthew, Brand descended to the lower floor, finding it empty. The door stood wide open; in the distance, a few soldiers in flight could be seen northwards over the open ins.


    Brand rushed up the stairs once more and found his remaining archers. With me, he yelled at them and ran past them onto the wall itself. Once outside the tower, he pointed to the fleeing figures. Shoot!


    The archers followed his order readily, sending arrows into the air at speed. They flew gracefully up, reaching the peak of their flight before descending down. All of them struck into the ground. Sorry, captain, expressed one of the archers. Theyre too far away.


    Brand simply nodded and leapt up thedder to reach the top of the tower. Climbing over the parapet, he saw that the fighting was done. Numerous bodiesy across the summit. Their faces were frozen in various expressions. Some held fear, others fury; most seemed simply surprised that their life hade to an end.


    Surrounded by all this death, the Mearcians stood calmly, tending to their needs. Many had wounds that required binding. Gathering all his warriors, Brand assessed their situation. Two of the men and one woman were judged to be unfit for further fighting, leaving him with twelve warriors.


    Youre not thinking of going back, captain? asked Jerome, seeing a frown upon Brands face. The heathman was unhurt; he had been at the back during both fights. You wanted three towers cleared.


    Two should be enough, Brand considered.


    Were here, captain, Leofric argued. Lets do what we came for.


    Lets finish them off! Matthew dered forcefully. There was blood on his de today, for the first time. The others nodded and murmured their assent. Leaving three behind, the remaining twelve and their captain continued along the Langstan.


    ~~~~


    Once more, the ounders were not deceived by the Mearcians wearing red robes. Arrows meet them as soon as they were within range. This time, Brandmanded none to attempt scaling the tower. As before, the whiterobe with his axe was called to the front, making short work of the door.


    First man through, Brand wielded his fabled de with the skill of a knight. He did not aim to strike killing blows but rather push the ounders back, allowing his soldiers entry. They flooded the room, tearing the ounders ranks apart. Chaoticbat erupted everywhere as the ounders on the roof rushed down the stairs, joining the skirmish.


    Embroiled inbat, Brand kept several enemies at bay, to his left, right, and front. Behind him stood Jerome. Dropping his spear, the heathman drew his dagger suited for closebat, staring at Brands back. He stepped forward, preparing a strike.


    Matthew pushed into the heathman. Where Jerome had stood, an ounder spear struck Matthews shield. Recovering, Jerome fell onto the ounder and thrust his dagger into his enemy, killing him. Quickly getting on his feet, he saw the remaining ounders being pressed into a corner of the room. The Mearcians asserted themselves, closing ranks and taking control of the fight. Brand retreated a few steps, not taking part in the final ughter. Their eyes met for a moment, and Brand nodded to Jerome in recognition, one soldier to another; sheathing his dagger, Jerome returned the gesture.


    The battle done, the Mearcians gathered on the upper floor. Captain, one of them said, gaining Brands attention. She did not speak again but simply pointed to the ground and Leofrics body. Brand walked over to kneel next to him. The wounds and blood upon the kingthane pronounced the truth.


    I saw him, captain. He went deep into their ranks, like he did at the other towers. There was no holding him back.


    He fought like the best of us.


    Tend to the living, Brand dered. See to your wounds. Jerome, go to the roof and keep watch.


    Aye, captain.


    The soldiers dispersed to do as bid. Meanwhile, Brand and a few others found tools and went outside to dig a grave.


    ~~~~


    It took nearly an hour before the hole was deep enough to be a suitable grave; if too shallow, it invited wild animals to dig up the body and feed upon it. They lowered Leofric gently down along with not only his, but every weapon taken from the ounders. As a final gesture, Brand tore away his own tattered, red-robed uniform. Seeing this, his followers did the same until all stood as Mearcians and none in stolen garments.


    Here lies Leofric, Brand spoke. He was mighty in battle, mighty in spirit. Strong of arm, strong of arms. Disdain he held for dread, contempt he had for cowardice. There was a brief silence before Brand spoke again. He leftfort and coin to follow oath and honour. From the hills of Heohlond to the heaths of Hthiod, he fought beside me. In Mearc and Reach, he stood by me. While I draw breath, his name shall rest upon my heart. Brand finished by cing his fist upon his chest, and the others mirrored his salute.


    The whiterobe in theirpany stepped forward. Sleep, Leofric of Middanhal. The raven hase for you. Your spirit shall soar with the eagle until the Sapphire City beckons. He pulled out a raven feather and threw it into the grave. Let none disturb your rest. Under the eyes of the dragon, the raven, the bull, the horse, the bear, the hart, and the eagle, this will be.


    This will be.


    With the burial done, the Mearcians began their march back to camp. It waste in the day, and it would be night before they reached home.


    I owe you thanks, Jerome said to Matthew, falling into pace next to the boy. You saved me back there.


    Its fine, Matthew replied with a beaming smile. We fight together. Were all the captains men.


    That we are, Jerome muttered.


    What a speech! For Leofric, I mean.


    It was quite something.


    Matthew stared ahead at the object of his praise. Id be lucky to have him say such words about me.


    Wouldnt we all.

 Chapter 139: What is Written

    Chapter 139: What is Written


    More than a month after his arrival in Rund, Godfrey sat enjoying food and drink at one of its many taverns. Manziks room had long since been reimed by the shahrbans offices and delegated to another, more faithful servant, leaving Godfrey homeless. Since then, he had drifted from ce to ce, avoiding the shadow warriors and ckboots pursuing his trail.


    Surprise filled his face as he looked up to see not one, but two ckboots approach his table. They were dressed in the garbs of their trade, which meant everyone else looked and kept away.


    Arman, Godfrey eximed, standing up. They quickly sped hands and took seats. Well, we cant meet here again, he remarked, looking around at the other patrons, who did everything to avoid meeting his gaze.


    There was not time to be inconspicuous, Arman exined. I just arrived this morning.


    What is amiss?


    I have been sent by Jenaab Arash to coordinate an attack against the drnders raiding our patrols, Arman said.


    I have done my best to make the sasab dy, Kamran inserted. But with these news, the fravashi will not wait any longer.


    There are rumours that the drnders are led by a de of Ruin, Arman added. In the hands of the bloodline born to Sigvard, no less. The fravashi im certainty of this, and they have been restless ever since.


    They would know, Godfrey conceded. Very well. We have gained what we could. The drnders must be warned. I have ns for their captain. He must survive.


    Time is brief, Arman warned. The fravashi will be killing the drnders north of the great stone and take possession of it. When the remaining drnders attempt to flee back across the wall, they will be killed as well.


    The fravashi from Rund will ride out to destroy their camp, send them fleeing north, Godfrey realised. Hammer against anvil.


    Exactly. Kamran nodded. I have already been ordered to leave the city and scout ahead.


    Javed, if this son of Sigvard is so important to our ns, he must be warned now, Arman urged.


    Yes. I will leave at earliest opportunity.


    That will be toote, Kamran dered. It will have to be me.


    Kamran, Godfrey protested. Dont be a fool. It is far too risky to send you.


    Its the only way. I already have orders to leave the city, whereas every guard in Rund is searching for you.


    Ill find a way, Godfrey mumbled.


    I am sure you will. Tonight, when it is dark, and you can sneak across the wall. That is many hours wasted that could make the difference, Kamran pointed out. I can leave through the gate in this very moment, and none will question me.


    They will kill you on sight, Godfrey argued.


    Javed, hes right, Arman interceded. This is greater than any one of us. We have all been prepared to die since the day you lead us to the light.


    Godfrey bit down on his lip. Very well. Go quickly. I shall follow when I can.


    Kamran rose to his feet. Until the morrowes. With those words, he disappeared.


    I must go as well, Arman dered. They will expect me to follow the soldiers when they move out.


    Of course. Fate willing, we meet again soon.


    Until the morrowes.


    ~~~~


    Being inside hostilends, the Mearcians kept a strong watch surrounding their camp. Their patrols were numerous, although each consisted only of two warriors, as injuries and deaths had made its toll on Brands fighting force. One such pair leisurely made its way through the hills, enjoying the gentle weather and casual conversation.


    only one card left, and only a thane will win the game for me.


    You told me this story yesterday.


    I did?


    Yes! Twice, you halfwit.


    Well, its a good story. The soldier cleared his throat. So there I was, one card left, and I needed to draw a thane.


    Well met, men of the Mearc, a voice called out to them in Nordspeech.


    Himils balls! The pair turned abruptly to see a ckboot calmly staring at them. They lowered their spears immediately.


    I wish to surrender.


    The Mearcians exchanged looks. What does that mean?


    Please, take my weapons and lead me to your camp.


    This cant be right.


    I assure you, Kamran said patiently, if I wished you harm, I would simply have ambushed you. On the contrary, I wish to warn you of impending danger.


    I dont trust him. We should kill him.


    I can also hear and understand you, Kamran pointed out.


    This aint right, repeated the other soldier. Ounders arent supposed to talk, theyre supposed to die.


    Might I suggest you take me to your leader, should you be uncertain how to proceed?


    The pair looked at each other again. No tricks out of you. Hand over your weapons!


    As youmand. Kamran unbuckled his belt and hung it upon one of the spears pointed at him. Shall we proceed? I believe your camp is in that direction.


    This is all kinds of wrong, one of the Mearcians muttered as they set off.


    ~~~~


    Everything was peaceful in the Mearcian camp. Nearly one third of the inhabitants were gone; a score had been sent north to ambush a group of ounders, and others were spread across the area on patrols or as sentries. The remainder busied themselves with the usual chores, fetching water, preparing food, mending clothes, and so forth.


    Serenity was shattered when a ckboot entered the camp, nked by two warriors. He carried no weapons, but his hands were not tied either, and his demeanour made him seem at ease. From all sides, the Mearcians moved towards the ounder, many of them with drawn weapons.


    What in Hels name are you doing? came a roaring voice. With fury on his face, ukos stalked towards the pair and their prisoner. A de was already in his hand.


    He surrendered, milord, they exined.


    And you morons brought him here?


    What else to do?


    Anything but give him the location of our camp, ukos yelled. He scowled at Kamran. We will have to kill him as soon as we are done interrogating him. We cannot take any risk he escapes.


    In fact, I should seek to speak with yourmander, Kamran interjected.


    Holy Hel, it speaks, ukos eximed. You must consider me a fool if you think I will let you within a hundred feet of our captain. He spat on Kamran. But knowing you speak the true tongue makes this easier. He raised his de to ce it against the ckboots cheek.


    Unflinching, Kamran met his gaze. I know you are not a fool, ukos of Tothmor. That is why you will let me speak to yourmander.


    ukos mouth dropped open, and his de fell down on Kamrans shoulder. You filthy bastard. How in Hels name do you know mine?


    ukos, Queens de, leader of a resistance group until you were betrayed and failed, the ckboot began to say. ukos fist punched him on the mouth, and he fell to the ground. You were lured into an ambush, Kamran continued, wiping away the blood from his split lip. Led by a traitor, Hugh of Esmarch. You fought one of the fravashi. Outmatched and wounded, you fled into a tavern.


    Go to Hel! ukos yelled, but he stood still as if spellbound by Kamrans words.


    You were bleeding. You hid in the cer underneath the kitchen.


    How do you know that? The words came more like the snarl of a beast than the speech of a man.


    It was I who used the oilmp to cover the scent of your blood from the fravashi, Kamran recounted. It was I who saved you.


    Why? ukos yelled. Why? he repeated with fury seeping from his voice. It cant be.


    Javed teaches us that when we save a life, we save ourselves. Still lying on his back, Kamran stared up at ukos. I did not think your courage deserved death.


    Milord, what do we do? someone asked ukos. There was a ring of spectators, watching with bewilderment.


    I do not believe in gods, ukos, but I believe in fate. It is time you repay me by taking me to yourmander, Kamran stated calmly.


    ukos let a deep breath; his empty hand trembled until he clenched it into a fist. Pull him on his feet, hemanded. We will take him to the captain. But one false move and I will gut you like a fish, you hear?


    That is reasonable, Kamran assented as someone grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up to stand.


    On your way, ukos growled, pushing the ckboot forward with a de against his back.


    ~~~~


    Brand sat on a tree log in discussion with his aides when half the camp seemed to approach his position. Even stranger, a ckboot walked at the head of the procession.


    ukos, what is this? he asked, seeing the warrior walking behind the prisoner.


    This  man surrendered to us, ukos exined. He wishes to talk to you. He reached out to p a hand down on Kamrans shoulder. That is close enough.


    Brand stood up. Behind him, a kingthane kept his hand on the hilt of his sword and eyes locked on the ckboot. I admit I am curious. Does he speak our tongue?


    I do, Kamran confirmed. You must be Lord Adalbrand, wielder of the de of Ruin.


    In the hands of my warriors, all des carry ruin, Brand said with half a smile. Speak up! What is your purpose? Are you alone?


    I am, my lord. I have been sent by Javed. The one you call Godfrey, I believe, he added.


    An expression moved across Brands face. Speak.


    Your location is no longer secret. Forces are moving towards this camp in this very moment. The same is the case for your soldiers guarding the long stone, Kamran dered. His words caused ripples through the listeners, and the open hostility on their faces changed into concern.


    He could be lying, ukos pointed out.


    Both my presence and my news should indicate that neither your camp nor your movements are hidden. You must retreat at once before it is toote, Kamran stated.


    Brand stared at him and took a step closer.


    Milord, came a warning from his thane.


    Describe Godfrey to me, the captain demanded.


    Kamran licked his lips. He is  not young, but he does not look old. He does not have a beard. Maybe stubbles. His eyes are  dark, I think. You cannot look into his eyes for long.


    Brands own eyes lingered on the ckboot a moment longer. I believe you, he finally said, causing further tension in the crowd. He looked past Kamran at ukos. Gather every horse and the kingthanes. We ride to the crossing. ukos gave a nod and left immediately; nearby, Matthew grabbed his equipment with excited eyes. Turning his head, Brand looked at Doran. Break camp. Once the patrols return, march for the Langstan. We will keep the crossing open for you. You havemand in my absence.


    Yes, captain.


    Bring him along, but do not harm him, Brand specified with a gesture towards the ckboot. Our enemy is the Godking, not his people. Hearing this, Kamran inclined his head slowly. After a moment, Brand reciprocated. Around them, the Mearcians broke into hectic activity.


    ~~~~


    Twenty warriors in disguise moved north of the Langstan, tracking an ounder patrol. Their prey had equal numbers, but the Mearcians were not concerned; the element of surprise and the ferocity of their leaders had proven decisive every time. Led by a kingthane, they marched quickly to reach their target.


    When they finally did, the actual ounders slowed down, turned, and waited. As the Mearcians approached, the imminent battle caused tense demeanours, and they gripped their weapons tight in anticipation. Reaching their enemies, they lowered spears and charged with the thane in the lead.


    A warrior stepped forward among the ounders; he wore a mask of steel. Instead of spear and shield, his weapons were only des. He leapt forward, evading hostile weapons. The kingthane, unprepared for this, was cut down within moments.


    With surprise turned against them, the Mearcians held out a moment longer, shing against the ounders. Another two fell to the shadow warrior by precise strikes, and another two. Finding themselves in a hopeless situation and outnumbered, the Mearcians dropped weapons and fled.


    Rather than pursue, the ounders took out their bows and let arrows take flight. Several of the Mearcians tumbled to the ground, never to rise again.


    Once they were beyond range of the archers, the shadow gave a quick order, and the ounders formed a column, taking up pursuit.


    ~~~~


    Gasping for breath, seven survivors finally stopped their frantic escape. They had ced enough distance between themselves and the ounders that for now, thetter were not in sight. Most of them copsed onto the ground, breathing with greed.


    What was that  thing? asked someone with spare breath.


    Some manner of fell creature, mumbled Jerome. He stood bent over, as exhausted as any other.


    More importantly, what do we do now? asked another.


    Go west, came the suggestion. They wont pursue far.


    I cant believe Im about to say this, Jerome muttered. He straightened up to look at the others. We have to go south.


    South? Theyll catch up to us!


    That creatures presence wasnt a coincidence, Jerome pointed out, still out of breath. Theyll be taking the Langstan, probably the camp, too. We have to warn them.


    If theyre headed for the wall, well die if we go there as well.


    Our people will die if we dont, Jerome countered. Enough talk. Lets go!


    He turned south and began to move again. Inspired or shamed by his example, the others followed suit. In the far distance, they could see the towers of the Langstan beckoning.


    ~~~~


    An hourter, seven stragglers reached the crossing of the Langstan. They were met by five Mearcians keeping watch.


    What happened, brothers? they called out in shock upon seeing the ragged band.


    Theyve figured us out, someone replied. They had this  this beast with them in the shape of a man. He tore through us like cattle.


    Rest now, a guard suggested while others brought water for them to drink. Youre safe.


    Were not, Jerome dered in between sharp breaths. Ill bet myst copper theyreing here to keep us trapped. We must warn the camp.


    Hes right. The captain should know what happened.


    Ill go. One of the watchers ced his shield and spear against the parapet, turned south, and ran down the ramp towards the hills.


    The rest of us should prepare. We need weapons, Jerome pointed out. He had only his short sword by his side; the same was the case for the other survivors. One of them picked up the spear and shield left behind by the runner.


    We have a few more spears inside the tower and a bow. Any of you an archer? asked a sentinel.


    Ill take that.


    Get to the top of the tower. Youll have better


    Theyre here! Arrows!


    The Mearcians scattered. Those with shields quickly raised them; the rest hid behind crions or ran inside the tower.


    Theyreing! someone roared. Formation!


    Because of the ramp, the ounders had direct ess to the wall. The Mearcians had no choice but to stand side by side in the open, preparing themselves for the charge. Arrows flew both ways; one of the attackers fell as did one of the defenders, caught without shield. The remaining ounders stormed up the ramp, led by the shadow warrior.


    He sought out one of the poorly armed Mearcians. Instantly, he was up close, stabbing his victim. A spear came against him, striking into his leg. Snarling, the shadow grabbed the shaft of the spear and pushed it from his wound. With haste, the shadow pulled the spear towards himself, bringing its wielder within range of his long dagger that found another victim.


    The line of defenders broke. In the chaos that ensued, the shadow warrior excelled. Unhindered by his wound, he moved andshed out with speed and precision.


    Seeing those yellow eyes fixed on him, Jerome raised his sword; in response, the shadow stalked towards him on the wall. Witnessing death approach him, Jerome staggered backwards; his de hung low, anticipating defeat.


    A horse came thundering up the ramp, throwing the shadow aside. Nine more followed as Brand and his retinue arrived to the fight. The captain impaled an ounder with his spear; the force made the shaft break, and he threw it aside, drawing his sword.


    Sneering, the shadow rose to his feet. His sight set on Brand with de in hand. With a leap, the shadow tumbled forward, cutting the forelegs of Brands mount and diving away. The horse reared in pain and fell to the ground, trapping its rider underneath.


    The shadow warrior readied his des and leapt forward once more. Before he could strike down, Matthew appeared at his masters side, raising his shield in defence. Deftly, the shadow struck below Matthews guard. Surprise filled the boys face, and he stumbled backwards.


    Underneath the horse, Brand struggled to free himself. As he finally managed to pull his legs out, the shadow was upon him. His knife came against Brands stomach in a blow promising an agonising death. Pushing his feet against the dead horse, Brand slid backwards on the ground, and the knife struck into his thigh instead.


    With a grimace born of pain, Brand used his other leg to kick the shadow in the chest, throwing him back. Finally free, he got on his feet, raising the sword of sea-steel.


    Wrath, rage, storm, and song, the creature spoke in Adalspeech; his voice came distorted underneath his steel mask. Death awaits!


    Despite his previous injuries, the shadow seemed unhindered. Heunched a fierce assault against Brand with both his des. In contrast, Brand had only his sword, and his movements were dulled by his wounded leg. As the fight raged around them, the Dragonheart was forced back, step by step, in a desperate defence.


    From the edge of this maelstrom of steel, Jerome kept back. He stared at Brand embroiled in the bitter duel. Once more, he found himself positioned behind Brand with a de in hand.


    Rushing forward, Jerome shed his sword against the shadows arm. It caused no injury other than consternation as the shadow turned and struck back, but it was enough. The brief distraction allow Brand to thrust his sword into the side of his enemy. Eagerly, the sea-steel bit whatmon iron would not.


    With a terrible shriek, the shadow staggered backwards. Dark liquid flowed from the wound as Brand pulled the sword back. His countenance hidden beneath his mask, the shadow turned and fled. As the ounders witnessed this, their morale broke as well.


    Their horses dead and their bodies exhausted, the Mearcians did not pursue. The small space upon the wall seemed to hold an impossible number of corpses, both beast and Man. Sword sliding from his hand, Brand fell to his knees seeing Matthew among them.


    ~~~~


    It would be a while before the remainder of theirpany joined the Mearcians at the wall. Making the most of the waiting, they prepared their fallen brethren for burial.


    It would take too long to dig individual graves, but they could not bear to simply pile the corpses together in a single mass grave. Instead, the Mearcians decided to build a pyre. Furniture from the tower and anything else that would burn was brought down from the wall. They built the fire on the Mearcian side, deciding the ashes of their dead should fall on familiar soil. Somemp oil ensured that the pyre would burn with strength.


    They ced the dead side by side onto the fuel; as thest, Brandid Matthew down gently. The boy wore his Order colours; it was the same surcoat he had donned years ago when first conscripted, no doubt having lied about his age. He had worn it at Lake Myr, across the Weolcans, in every battle by Brands side, and finally in the Reach. Now its journey ended as his had done.


    Brands face was devoid of expression; he spoke not a word, and none dared speak to him. Instead, their work done, the Mearcians settled onto the wall, keeping watch; some looked north should the ounders return, others looked south in anticipation of their brethren arriving from camp.


    When thetter happened, they were greeted by a sombre mood and the sight of a battlefield. Lengthy exnations were unnecessary; their journey into the Reach had been a challenge to the Godking, and a response was to be expected. Having judged Kamrans words to be true, Brand gave the briefmand to let him be freed. With a silent gesture of respect, the ckboot left in peace and in haste.


    Theirpany assembled, the Mearcians could begin the funeral. They gathered in a circle around the pyre with all eyes on Brand. Wigstan, he began to say. Kevan. Jason. Morgan. Ciara. Brogan. Ryan. Hrodgar. Damon. Sinad. He took a breath. Matthew. Your names  your names are written on my heart. All of them. He ced his hand on his chest.


    Next to him, Brother Caradoc stepped forward to finish the rites. Soon, the pyre burned. Brand kept his gaze upon Matthews face as the fire erased every facial feature once so familiar. Around the circle, the others paid tribute in their own manner. Some prayed, some wept; some gave their own sacrifice to the mes.


    It did notst long; knowing that the smoke would attract unwanted attention, the Mearcians did not linger. Keeping to the shadow of the Langstan, they marched west.

 Chapter 140: Seal and Seat

    Chapter 140: Seal and Seat


    The Mearcians continued their march until nightfall. Despite the miles they had traversed, the Langstan remained empty; the Order only maintained control further west. Using its ancient stonework for their own purpose, they erected primitive tents made from spears and cloak ced against the wall.


    In the middle, Brand held council. He sat on a tree stump, asionally rubbing his leg; it had been a long march with an injured thigh. His lieutenants sat around him on fallen logs. All of them were quiet, looking at their captain.


    What happens now, milord? Geberic finally asked.


    When Brand did not reply, others did. We still have most of our fighting force, ukos pointed out. We can still harass the ounders on this side of the wall.


    They will be expecting us, ric countered. Our only advantage was stealth and surprise. Both are lost.


    What else are we to do? Go back to the Order camp and sit around, spear in hand? ukos asked.


    We wanted to hurt the ounders enough to challenge them on the field, Doran mentioned. Perhaps we should return to Sir William and assess the situation. Maybe the time is right to give battle.


    See now, those are words worth hearing! ukos assented.


    The knights still wont fight, Geberic argued. We cant fight a battle without them.


    Enough, Brand uttered; the others fell silent. We have had a long and trying day. Sleep as you can. Decisions are for tomorrow.


    The others mumbled their acquiescence and left Brand alone, save for the thane keeping watch.


    Scarcely had the others gone before Jerome approached, having watched the meeting from a distance. May I speak with you, milord? In private.


    Of course. Brand nodded to his guard, who walked away. What is it?


    Jerome shifted his weight from foot to foot. It took him a moment to phrase himself. Im probably the only one who went with you for selfish reasons, he finally said.


    I dont think that can be said of anyone.


    Its true. I was a mercenary, milord, fighting for silver far from home. Im a heathman, but I didnt think twice about the war in Hthiod. I didnt care.


    Something changed, I surmise.


    It took longer than youd think, milord. Maybe it was underway for a while, but today, seeing that evil creature, Jerome exined. I finally understood. This war isnt about gold ornd. Its  bigger than anything else Ive known. Ive seen strange things in the deep South, but nothing like this. This war, its more important than me.


    We all have our parts to y, Jerome. Every soldier with the courage to fight is important.


    Thats not what I mean to say, milord. I need you to understand why I see things differently today than I did yesterday.


    Brand frowned. Is something the matter?


    Jerome took a deep breath. Lord Konstans of Vale offered me a purse of gold to ensure you never returned from the Reach, milord. Once he realises I have failed, hell send someone else. You need to be warned.


    Brand straightened his back and looked up to stare at Jerome. I see.


    Id ask you didnt tell the others, milord. Let me just take my things and leave. I dont want them looking at me with contempt in their eyes, Jerome asked, his voice thick.


    You will stay where you are, Brandmanded him sternly. As long as you are in my camp, Lord Konstans may assume you still intend to carry out your task.


    I hadnt thought of that, Jerome admitted.


    Speak of this to none, Brand continued. But inform me immediately if anything catches your suspicion.


    Yes, milord.


    Good. Get some sleep. We will all need to be rested.


    Yes, milord. Jerome walked away with heavy breaths, leaving Brand to stare into the dark. Despite his own words, the captain found little sleep.


    ~~~~


    The following morning, Brands lieutenants gathered. None of them spoke; they simply stared at their haggard leader in anticipation.


    We will return to the Order camp, Brand informed them. Sir William can inform of us of the current situation and the effect our raids have had. Seven and Eighth willing, the ounders will be sufficiently weakened to consider battle and besieging Lakon.


    Very good, sir, Geberic assented.


    We keep a course northwards for now even if it adds days to our journey. No need to risk discovery by patrols.


    I will tell them to move out, Doran dered. Brand gave him a nod and gathered his few things in preparation for the march. Around the camp, the others did likewise; given how light they travelled, it took only a brief while before they could form a column and set out.


    Does this feel strange to you? Nichs asked Quentin. Like were running away.


    It feels that way because it is that way, Quentin retorted, walking by his side. We were a hundred soldiers invading our enemy. It was always going to end with us in retreat.


    I guess, but I feel like a dog with its tail between its leg.


    We must have killed hundreds and hundreds of those scum, Quentin pointed out. And all in all, we lost maybe thirty of our number. Youre just feeling downtrodden because things went ill towards the end.


    I suppose youre right.


    Besides, this is good for you. When we reach the camp, you can get a letter sent to Ellen.


    Nichs seemed to regain some of his cheer. Thats right. So she wont forget me.


    Because women tend to forget about the men they married within a year.


    Actually, weve been away for a year and


    Gods, spare me, Quentin eximed exasperated. Im never marrying if this is the result.


    I dont think youre in much danger, Nichs remarked gently.


    ~~~~


    Due to their hasty departure, the band had few provisions. The surroundingnd was far from lush and provided little opportunity for foraging, especially not in spring. Following brooks and streams to ensure freshwater was avable, the group marched on despite the pangs of hunger. When it became too dark to march on, the soldiers were encouraged to seek rest at once; a sleeping man was not a starving man, for a while.


    A few sentries remained alert, as did Brand. He did not seem to make much effort in pursuit of sleep either; he sat on a rockrge enough to act as an ufortable seat. The cold wind made him pull his cloak around him, but it appeared to be mostly by reflex; inevitably, the cape would soon after slide down, leaving him exposed to the elements, starting the cycle anew.


    Captain. One of the sentinels approached with another man in tow. Your spy is back.


    Brand looked up to find Godfrey staring back. I did not expect you.


    Thats how it usually is with me. You received my warning, I take it.


    The ckboot? We did.


    What of him? Is he safe?


    Brand gave a vague nod. We let him go unharmed.


    Thats good. Godfrey breathed easier. We should speak. Alone.


    Brand looked over his shoulder; a thane sat up against a tree, struggling to stay awake that he might guard his captain. Stay here, Brand told him and rose up to follow Godfrey to the edge of camp. Speak up.


    Are you hurt? Your leg.


    Nothing of importance. The wound was nearly healed, causing only a slight limp.


    It was bound to happen. The de by your side, the blood in your veins, Godfrey muttered. To the ounders, these are omens both good and ill.


    How so?


    They are signs, memories of past defeats. Though some would see them as challenges of the Godkings might. They think this means he will return. From his stronghold under the mountain, he will awaken to wage war.


    Meanwhile, we are divided, fighting amongst ourselves, Brand remarked with a sardonic smile. Imand less than seventy warriors. Not much of a challenge.


    That can swiftly change. Even now, the Godking fears you enough to send his shadows against you. They will shed your blood and steal your de.


    Let theme. These shadows, I fought one of them upon the wall. This sword sent him into flight. Brand rested his hand upon the hilt by his waist.


    Next time, they will not be so brazen. They will sneak into your camp. They are creatures of shadow, Brand, as the name says. You cannot hope to guard against them at all times.


    What then? Am I to cower the rest of my days? Brand asked bitterly.


    I have a better idea. You must leave for now. Our enemies will lose track of you until time is right for you to return.


    Leave? Brand eximed. You must be mad. This war is far from done.


    What can you aplish here? You left the Order camp because your presence merely caused division. Until you are reinstated as a knight, there is little you may achieve.


    And that is within your power? Having my honour and spurs restored to me? Brand asked with derision.


    It is, Godfrey imed undisturbed. But it will take time. Months. I must cross the Realms to forge new alliances and rekindle old friendships. Brand, if you trust me, I can deliver an army to you. An army to not only fight this war, but win it!


    Despite Godfreys forceful words, Brand seemed unmoved. How do I exin to my people that we are abandoning the war? Where would we go?


    I have already considered that, Godfrey replied with a sly smile. It requires a bit of an exnation.


    Very well, go on.


    Alczar is nning war. Whats more, I believe their preparations are soonplete, Godfrey stated.


    How certain are you?


    Absolutely. I have seen their shipyards. Theyre building a fleet to sail north and amassing mercenaries to use it.


    That is grave news, but how does this matter? Do you intend for me to travel west and fight another war?


    Not yet. I have built awork of spies in Alczar, much as I have done in the Reach. Knowledge of the armies arrayed against us, their ns for invasion, this will be critical if the Realms are to survive.


    I do not see how that pertains to us here and now.


    I need someone to travel to Alczar and retrieve the intelligence. Someone familiar with the city andnguage that he will not draw attention. You spent your youth in Alczar, did you not?


    You cannot be serious! I am no spy, Brand said with indignation.


    For all their bad reputation, spies are useful, Godfrey remarked dryly. You had no qualms about using my information. Information, I might add, which gave you advance warning just a few days ago.


    Be that as it may, I am amander, a warrior. My ce is on the battlefield. You are the spy, Brand pointed out. This is a task for you.


    Yes, but I already have a task. I must patch the Order together that we stand a chance against all we face, Godfrey retorted, his voice gaining an edge. I have wheels in motion and many matters requiring my attention. Do you have a n to aplish this?


    Brand stared at him with anger flickering across his face. If I did, I would not be in the wilderness with only seventy warriors at my call.


    Then you should trust me. Have I not proven true to my word each and every time in the past?


    Brands jaw was clenched, but his reply came with softening voice. You have.


    None of this is coincidence. Alczar will strike while our attention is in the east, causing a severe blow. Once the western realms are burning with war, we will be too weak to resist the Godking. An alliance born in Hel has been forged between the two, Godfrey exined patiently. I am sure of it.


    Brand nced around before his eyes settled on hispanion again. I cannot leave my people. They will think I have abandoned them. What would I even tell them?


    That you have a task only you can fulfil, on your own. They had enough faith in you to follow you into the Reach, Godfrey pointed out. They will wait for your return.


    Brand shook his head. A captain does not simply walk away, leaving his soldiers behind. You must find someone else.


    There are none who can y the part convincingly  your youth spent in Alczar makes you perfect for this. Besides, this solves our other issue of your safety. The shadows will not know to pursue you this far.


    Because spying is such a safe trade, Brand remarked.


    This will be. You need only enter the city and meet my reeve. I will arrange for your passage to and fro. It will take a few months, during which you will be gone from all hostile eyes. When you return, I will have youmanding the Orders armies once more, I promise you. Godfrey kept his piercing eyes on Brand.


    Turning away, Brands gaze found Jerome sleeping by the edge of camp. What use will this information be? We have no armies in western Adalmearc.


    It will be passed to my associate in Thusund. If the inders and the Order know what they face, gods willing, they will stop Alczars fleet from even entering Drake Run.


    How certain are you that Alczar ns war against us specifically? Brand asked hesitantly. Their aim could be the other South Cities.


    Brand, we can argue until dawn. I can inform you of every bit of knowledge I have assembled with pain-staking care. In the end, it all relies upon the same question. Do you trust me to do what I ask of you?


    Exhaling slowly, Brand nodded. I do. But I cannot bear the thought of leaving my people behind. How can I meet their eyes when I tell them this?


    You were born with strong will for a reason, Brand. You have the strength to bear such burdens. Besides, travelling alone to undertake a task that will ensure victory, Godfrey dered, that reminds me of Sigvard himself.


    You can spare me your bait, Brand retorted, but his voice carried no sting. I have already epted.


    Sorry. Force of habit, Godfrey smiled. His voice and expression became grave. I know great sacrifices are asked of you. I wish I could promise you they will be rewarded, but the fates do not weave justice. Good men suffer, evil men prosper.


    Your ability to motivate people is without equal.


    Sorry. Again. The smile returned to Godfrey. I will travel a bit of the distance with you and ensure you have all needed instructions. When we meet again, most likely in Portesur or Herbergja, you will be a knight once more.


    Very well. Brand looked up at the night sky. I will try to rest while time permits.


    A wise decision.


    ~~~~


    When morning came, Brand did not give the order to break camp as yesterday. Instead, he bade his lieutenants assemble everyone. Stepping onto a rock to make himself visible to all, Brand let his eyes sweep across the men and women gathered. Their expressions were tired, their clothing dirty, but when he spoke, he had their full attention.


    We havee far, he began. Some of you have been with me since before we crossed the Weolcans. A few, including a pair of Hthian archers, responded with noise. Some of you fought at Bradon or Cudrican with me. Some of you were at Tothmor or Polisals. A few more joined in. Some of you chose exile over dishonour and went to Heohlond with me. The kingthanes gave weary cheers. Some of you left Heohlond to follow bonds of blood. The hignders raised their hands in greeting. Regardless of when you joined this band, you all went into the Reach with me. All of them responded upon hearing this.


    We marched where none of our people has dared to set foot. We taught the enemy fear, Brand impressed upon them. One day, they shall sing of the hundred heroes, he proimed, raising his voice. And none shall sing your praises louder than I will. That is my solemn promise to you. All of your names are sealed upon my heart, and you shall be seated at my table. Always. The soldiers cheered again with what strength they could muster.


    Nowes the part I wish I never had to say. Worried looks were exchanged. While all of you must return to the Order camp, I cannot follow. Disbelief overcame the crowd.


    No!


    Why?


    You must!


    Brand raised his hands to gain silence. My presence in the camp would only cause disruption. But another task lies before me, and it cannot be done with strength of arms. I swear to you, I shall return. One day, I shall walk amongst you again. This I swear, by the Seven and Eighth, I swear it. But for now, I must ask you all to trust me as you did when you followed me into the Reach. Murmur could be heard, especially among Brands closest followers and lieutenants. Several of them nced at Godfrey.


    Where are you going? yelled one of the hignders.


    I cannot say. I can only ask that you keep faith in my return.


    I have faith, captain, someone dered. It was Jerome. He nced around as if to challenge any to gainsay him.


    What are you going to do?


    I cannot say that either.


    Ill wait, captain. Youve never led us astray before.


    Aye, I will as well.


    And me.


    Brand smiled without joy. I know you will. Never have I known warriors of such heart. Never shall I feel alone again, knowing you await me. His expression did not seem to agree with his words. Sir William will wee your hardypany and treat you well for my sake. Until I return.


    Until you return! several shouted as Brand stepped down.


    He turned to face his lieutenants, addressing Doran. Keep thepany together in my absence. Write to my sister in Middanhal for coin. That will help you see to their needs.


    Yes, captain.


    Good. Break camp. You should be underway soon.


    As you say, captain. Doran saluted Brand and hurried away, organising the march.


    Before Brand could say anything to the others, Geberic spoke up. Its that spy, isnt it? He looked towards Godfrey. Hes given you some information that you cant ignore, and now youre chasing off.


    There are many considerations in y, Brand said curtly. I will meet you all in the Order camp.


    Not me, Geberic replied, quickly adding, Im going with you.


    I appreciate the sentiment, but your presence would only endanger me at my destination. I must be alone.


    Then we will follow you as long as we can, ukos interjected. I am a Kings de. I need a king to fight for. Besides, I have had my fill of killing ounders for the time being.


    ric nodded towards him. As he said.


    Behind them, Gwen pressed forward. I didnte here to fight a war. I came here to stay by your side. Im going the same way as you.


    You cannot follow me all the way, Brand told them. Seeing them all stare at him, he continued. I suppose I will not mind thepany some of the way. They grinned.


    We should leave, Godfrey told him quietly, having approached.


    Brand gave a nod. Gather your things.


    They did so with speed; momentster, they were ready to leave. While the remainder of thepany prepared to march north, Brand set a course westwards. As he took the first step, those left behind beat their fists against their chests in ast salute. Dragonheart. Dragonheart. Dragonheart. Brand turned to send them a final look; with a smile leaning towards sorrow, he set on his path once more, followed by five others.

 Chapter 141: Nieheim

    Chapter 141: Nieheim


    Far to the south-east of Rundy a solitary peak. It had many names in the tongues of the ounders, Elves, or Dwarves. Among the Mearcians, it was known of old as Niheim, though none of their tribes had ever beheld this mountain with their own eyes. To them, it was a name of legends, long since faded from memory. To the ounders, it was the dwelling of their living god.


    Because of this, the mountain was sacred and forbidden. This did not mean the dwelling was empty; only that few were allowed into the presence of the Godking. The Servants of the me, many ves to serve the god, and guards chosen among the strongest and most devout could be found in Niheim. All others had to be content with seeing the summit on the horizon.


    From afar, the mountain might seem ordinary; upon approach, the work of mortal hands could be seen. Towers rose from teaus, flying banners with the red-golden fire of the Godking on ck. Beside those, only a gate revealed that the mountain had been delved. It seemed wrought by giants, made with steel and cunning. It rose to the height of many men and looked impervious to anything, whether the beating of rams or the fire of dragons. The surface was decorated with carvings, showing the Godkings victory over warriors tall and short.


    On most days, the gate was shut. On the ins outside, caravans and the like would gather, erecting a city of tents. Every other week, the earth would tremble as the giant doors opened by some method unseen. All those outside would hurry to bring their goods past the gate, leaving the in deste until the next caravans arrived, beginning the cycle anew.


    Immediately beyond the entrance, themoners would find themselves in a great, natural cave, which hammer and chisel had expanded over the centuries. Along the cavern walls ran streams of luminous material found inside the rock, illuminating the ce. Here, the wagon trains were emptied. Provisions of many sorts, fabric, ssware, tools, and much else were taken by ves and distributed further into the mountain. The wagon drivers were not allowed beyond; as soon as their carts had been emptied, they were made to turn and leave under the watchful gaze of the guards. Only those summoned by the Godking could proceed, such as themander of his armies, Jenaab Sikandar. This did not mean he was immediately allowed further in; in the halls of the Godking, even the mightiest among the ounders had to wait.


    Meanwhile, a stream of ves hurried to move barrels and crates in every direction. Precious metals and gems were brought to the treasury; all such valuables in the realm of the Godking belonged to him personally. Most food went to the lower levels along with coal for great furnaces; day and night, iron was mined, smelted, and hammered into weapons for the Godkings army by a great number of thralls, both Men and Dwarves.


    Most of the fabrics and sundries went to the other areas of the mountain, popted by the Servants of the me and privileged ves. Some went to the upper levels that gave ess to the outer towers,manded by the guards. The most costly materials  silk, candles made of beeswax, pearls, and such  were sent to the heart of the mountain. This was the Godkings residence, where few ever went.


    It contained several rooms; between them and the rest of the mountainy another hall used to grant audience. Like its counterpart near the entrance, it had once been a natural cave. The key difference was that nothing of natural rock remained in sight; in the audience hall, every inch was covered by marble and precious stones, reflecting the eerie light that spread through the mountain.


    At the far end stood a throne, elevated many steps. It was constructed entirely from gold and silver, the metals weaving together and spreading out to climb up the wall like a spiders web. Upon the throne itself on those rare days of audience, such as today, sat the Godking.


    Even in his great seat, it was clear that he was taller than all others. His garments flowed with the finest cut and cloth, sewn with gems and silver thread. He carried no weapons, no guards stood near him; the Godking required neither for protection. In this hall, he could not be touched. He carried no crown but instead a mask upon his face, showing a beautiful face. Slits allowed him to gaze at the world beyond; his eyes were entirely uniform, having only the colour grey.


    The hall was of such size, it seemed built to house a great court, but the Godking was alone save for a few personal ves, hiding behind pirs until they were needed. When he felt inclined, he gave a small nod, and the doors opposite opened.


    First to enter came a whole procession of Servants; behind them walked Sikandar. The Servants moved to the first set of pirs and prostrated while chanting. Hail to you, god and king! At the next pirs, they repeated the gesture. You who raised the sun and brought low the moon! Sikandar followed, throwing himself on the ground each time they did. Eternity lies in your palm. The stars rest upon your brow!


    When they had finally progressed to stand before the throne, they threw themselves down onest time, remaining on the ground. The Godkings mask stared upon them, letting the moments pass. Rise, Sikandar, hemanded. His voice was deeper than his thin body frame suggested; it seemed to reverberate through the hall. While the Servants stayed down, Sikandar rose, keeping his head bowed. Have you fulfilled your task?


    Yes, Divine Majesty. The faithless scum has been eradicated and peace restored to your cities.


    That is well. Imend you for your loyal service.


    Thank you, Divine Majesty. Even as he spoke, Sikandar kept his eyes down, staring at the lowest steps of the throne.


    I have another task for you. Renew the assault upon the godless horde beyond the great stone. Assemble all my armies and crush them. Prepare the way to their city upon the hill.


    I live to serve, Divine Majesty.


    Rise, my Servants. All the priests and priestesses of the me did asmanded. Let this message be spread among the faithful. When the city upon the hill is within sight of our devoted warriors, the one, true god shall awaken. The Servants gasped. Yes. I shall walk amongst them and lead them forth to final victory. All shall be as Imand.


    All for the Godking! shouted the men and women in fire-red robes. They fell back onto the ground, prostrating themselves once more. All for the Godking!


    Behind them, Sikandar mumbled the words as well, keeping his eyes upon the floor. Upon the throne, the Godking sat silent, letting their adoration wash over him.


    ~~~~


    Once the audience was finished and his subjects dismissed, the Godking returned to his chambers. Walking through the atrium, he took a ss on a tter extended by a ve with bowed head. A flicker of his hand sent them all from the room, leaving him alone to remove his mask. He emptied the ss with its concoction of wine and vinegar, in which a pearl had been dissolved.


    Enter. What do you have to report?


    A shadow warrior crept inside from the corridor. Master, the dragonborn escaped along with the de of Ruin.


    The Godkings hand slowly squeezed the ss until it broke into pieces. As he unclenched his fist, the shards fell to the ground without a trace of blood. Was nothing gained?


    Master, he was wounded. We have tasted his blood and strengthened the scent. We will continue the search.


    Do so.


    The shadow bowed his head and walked backwards out of the room, ensuring that his masked face was turned towards the Godking at all times. Paying the shadow no further heed, the ruler of the ounders ventured further into his chambers.


    Most of his rooms were luxurious beyond measure. Thick carpets made the floors soft and the walls warm; every piece of furniture was carved with utmost skill from wood imported from the eastern realms. Silk was the predominant choice of fabric, found in such quantity that it would make for a kings ransom. But one chamber had none of these luxuries.


    The walls and floor were bare, showing stonework. It held neither soft beds nor chairs, only tables and shelves. As the Godking entered, his naked face surveyed the room. The shelves held many jars and cons, containing unmarked powders and liquids; some had books written in mystical script as thest remnant of otherwise long-forgotten lore. On the table stood peculiar instruments and objects, and knives of strange designy upon it. The floor in the middle was free of furniture, having strange runes written upon the stone; in between were metal rings and shackles. Currently, they held a boy, no more than fifteen years old. His torso was stripped naked, and his eyes were blindfolded; enough of his face remained visible to reveal an expression of abject terror.


    Ignoring the boy, the Godking walked over to a shelf hanging over a table. From the former, he picked out several sks, cing them on the table. From thetter, he picked up a curved dagger and turned around to face his prisoner.

 Chapter 142: Broken Swords

    Chapter 142: Broken Swords


    One month after parting ways with Brand, Godfrey walked on the Kingsroad that connected Adalrik with Vidrevi. It ran from Middanhal north-west to Silfrisarn and continued further west in the shadow of the Weolcan Mountains until it reached Trehaf by the sea. Before that, one branch went directly north towards Hareik, the capital of Vidrevi. It was this path that Godfrey followed. Ahead of him, the city rose in the distance. Even from afar, he could spot the high oak in the middle of the city rising up; byw, no other building could be raised to rival its height.


    The city was built all from wood with only a few exceptions. The first was the outer walls; in this case, the builders had to concede to the strength of stone. The second was the cobbled roads that ran as the main thoroughfares throughout the city. The third was the Order keep. Thus, as Godfrey stepped past the gate, he saw only buildings made from timber. Despite this, fire was not considered a great hazard. Hareik was the stronghold of the greenrobes, who held trees, nts, and other living things as their domain; every nk of wood in the city had been treated ording to their skill, making it durable and resistant to mes.


    The road ran straight from the gate to the great temple in Hareik. Godfrey followed this path, watching the tree rise up before his eyes. Its crown spread far, blossoming green. The temple itself built around it was a marvel; like all the dwellings of the greenrobes, it was built entirely from wood without the use of a single nail or other metal.


    The templey surrounded by extensive gardens, growing herbs of all sorts to avail many a need. Greenrobes of all ranks worked them every day. Godfrey approached one of them, waiting until she noticed his presence and stood up. What can I do for you, traveller?


    I should seek a brief audience with the gydja, he told her. You may tell her that it is Godfred, bearing a message from Middanhal.


    Of course, she acquiesced, hurrying inside. Godfrey remained in the garden, ncing around. Besides him, others were present, enjoying the splendour and rich scent of the ce. Young noblewomen apanied by old nursemaids, talking lively to each other. Couples meeting to share a moment together. Poor people, hoping for alms. In the gardens of Austre, all manner of people met.


    The greenrobe returned, gesturing for Godfrey to follow her. They entered the temple itself past the guards, who wielded bows and long daggers for weapons as befitted the servants of Austre, the great huntress. Passing through the building, the priestess led Godfrey to a row of small chambers. Godfrey went to the far end and walked inside, entering the private room of the gydja.


    A woman of some years, hair between ck and grey, looked up to send him a smile. The high priestess of Austre was at work embroidering a robe with a leaping hart, but she set the needlework aside to stand up. Godfred, how pleasant, she remarked, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek.


    As always when I find myself in these halls, the pleasure is mine, he remarked.


    Thank you, Sister, the gydja told the greenrobe at the door, who had escorted Godfrey inside. She nodded and left them alone. What brings you to Hareik? You always have business.


    Sadly the truth, or I woulde here more often. I bring a letter from the Highfather. Godfrey fished out a folded piece of parchment, handing it to the priestess.


    She opened it and let her eyes run over it. Reaching the end of the brief missive, she frowned. It is an easy task to gather the seeds my sisters request, but I am confused by thest part. The letter says that a travellingpanion will be provided  does he mean you?


    Not quite. There is a man in Hareik whom the Highfather wishes to entrust with the task of bringing the seeds to the Temple. If you can have the seeds prepared for journey, I will seek him out and have him present himself to be of service, Godfrey exined.


    I suppose that will be fine, though some of these seeds are delicate. One of my sisters will be needed to take care of them during the journey. I hope thispanion is an experienced woodsman if he is to be responsible for the safety of my sister.


    He will prove more than adequate to the task, gydja, I am sure of it.


    The priestess looked sceptical, but she made no further objections. Very well. Return tomorrow and I shall have everything arranged.


    Godfrey smiled. Excellent. Before I leave


    You wish to visit the sanctum?


    His smile widened. You know me too well, Sister.


    You know the way. I will make sure you are not disturbed, she promised with a kind voice.


    He bowed his head. My gratitude, as always.


    Turning, Godfrey left the chamber and moved deeper into the building. The temple was built like a hollow shell around the great oak in its middle; this meant that although he was moving deeper inside, Godfrey eventually found himself walking on grass again as he entered the innermost part of the temple. Ahead of him rose the mighty oak, tall enough to rival any tower. Its roots ran across the area and deep into the earth; its crown left the ground covered in shade.


    Godfrey walked over to sit down and lean against the tree. With the building surrounding him, all was quiet; there was not the briefest sound of the bustling city outside. The only disturbance came when a sparrownded on his knee, chirping away. Smiling, Godfrey broke off a small piece of bread from within his pouch and held it in the palm of his hand. The sparrow flew up tond on his thumb, pecking into the bread.


    I am tired, he told the little bird. I miss home. The sparrow gave no reply; it was too busy eating.


    ~~~~


    Hareik had its share of taverns. On the surface, nothing distinguished the establishment known in the neighbourhood as the Oak and Arrow from others. It had a few rooms for travellers, a courtyard and stables, kitchens and storage, and amon room with a hearth and sleeping drunkards. Usually, these would be roused from sleep at some point and thrown out. The sole exception was a man in his early fifties, who always slept in themon room; sometimes he did so on the bedroll by the hearth, sometimes with his head on the table in drunken stupor. His only belonging of note was a great sword, meant to be wielded by two hands and resting in its scabbard against the nearby table. He seemed average of height and build; perhaps once he had been in good shape, but copious servings of ale had begun to take effect.


    Despite it was early evening, he was already deep in the cups. He hung over the table, constantly swaying like a sapling in the breeze, and his eyes were out of focus. He kept picking up his tankard, trying to drink its contents except it was already empty. The other patrons in the tavern did not seem to pay him any heed; in fact, they kept a certain distance.


    This changed when up towards ten men entered the ce. They were in high spirits; by their breath, gait, and speech, they were no doubt influenced by actual spirits. Today was Ausday. For some, it was the one day of the week when they rested and did nobour; for others, it was a cause for carousing.


    Barkeep! Lets have some ale! shouted one of them. Their rowdy manner attracted attention from both patrons and servants.


    Fine, no need to string your bow. Itlle, replied the matron of the house, grabbing cups for her husband to fill.


    Thats got to be him, remarked one of the drunken youths with a whisper loud enough for most to hear. He elbowed hispanion in the side, pointing out at the drunkard at the end of one table.


    Eh? He doesnt look like much.


    He wouldnt, would he? Hes a wreck. Nothing left but a rotting log.


    Youve probably mistook the ce. I bet hes elsewhere.


    Dont be a fool. That sword is a knights sword. The young man pointed an unsteady finger at the sheathed de by the end of the table.


    Or its just a sword.


    Go to Hel, Im right, and Ill prove it. Picking up one of the tankards of ale, the youth moved down along the table; a few of hispanions followed. Hey! Hey, you! he called out to the man still swaying over his empty mug. You hear me?


    Just leave the old fool alone, suggested another. Hes nothing more than a drunkard.


    Shut up. Hey, old man! You that old knight? The oath breaker?


    Aggi, just drink. Whats the point of this?


    Aggi would rather plough with oxen than admit hes wrong, someone snickered.


    I am not a knight, slurred the drunken man.


    See?


    I am a Temr, you feckless prick.


    Old mans got bite! The youthsughed. Several of them were gathered now, forming a circle around the spectacle.


    He may be right about Aggi. I heard some rumours.


    Go to Hel, Aggi responded to his friends, turning back to the former knight. Youre a Temr, eh? You dont look like one.


    Well, you look like a bitch, and you bark like one. The warrior gave a hough.


    I hear Temrs take vows of poverty and chastity, Aggi retorted. Which one did you break? It certainly wasnt poverty!


    Ask your mother, bastard, and she will tell you it was the other.


    Oh! The youths, except for Aggi, roared withughter and red cheeks. He knows about your family history, Aggi!


    Piss off! At least Im not known as Damien the Durd, a filthy oath breaker!


    That would be Sir Damien the Durd to you, peasant, mumbled the former knight.


    Uh, peasant! His tongue is getting dull, much like his wit!


    Fits his name!


    Lets go. He aint a silkworm no more, hes just a worm.


    Run back to your mothers skirts, Damien slurred. Not like you have fathers waiting for you.


    The youths began to disperse,ughing and already talking about other topics. Only Aggi remained, his face boiling. With a snap movement, he turned his tankard over and spilled its contents over Damiens head. Have a drink on me, he spoke with a mocking tone.


    As the drops flowed down his face, Damien seemed undisturbed for a moment. Before Aggi could turn away, however, Damiens fist was nted in his chest, sending him sprawling to the floor.


    Confusion mingled with uproar. As the youths realised what had taken ce, Damien was on his feet. He grabbed his sword but kept it in the scabbard, wielding it like a staff. The pommel became a metal fist, cracking heads and striking skulls. The men at the bar realised theirrades were in trouble and rushed forward to join the fight. In the background, one tavern keeper screamed in panic, the other shouted for order, but ignored by all. Thanks to the narrow spaces between the tables and their own inebriation, they came at Damien one or two at a time, allowing him to constantly swing the pommel from head to head.


    Momentster, the men limped or crawled out of the Oak and Arrow with battered bodies. Damien mmed his sword onto the nearest table and sat down, examining the closest mugs for any content.


    While one of the owners began to clean up, the other yelled. Twice in one month! Youre supposed to prevent fights, not start them!


    I hate a man who throws ale away, Damien exined. With instinct and reflexes gone, his slurred speech and slouching posture had returned. Even if it is piss-poor.


    Seething, she turned towards her husband; he was cleaning up drops of blood with bucket and a wet rag. This was your idea! What good is he? Were having more fights in this ce than ever before!


    At least theyre over quickly, the husband mumbled, avoiding the stares sent his way. Most of the remaining patrons watched the spectacle between the married couple with amusement as the wife insisted Damien be sent packing; an exception was Godfrey. Pulling down his hood, he kept his eyes on Damien, eventually moving over to sit opposite him.


    Lord Damien of Montmer, Godfrey said.


    Really? Me too.


    I have a task for you. Two, you might say, though one is quickly done.


    That sounds like your father.


    Scrutinising Damiens drunken demeanour, Godfrey got up and moved over to the bickering couple. If you would allow me use of this, I believe I can solve your problem. The owners stared at him, but neither objected as he picked up the bucket of water. Turning back, Godfrey emptied it on top of Damiens head.


    Veins pulsing, the warrior leapt to his feet and nted his fist against Godfreys chest. Thetter did not flinch. The experience, or the cold water, seemed to have a sobering effect on Damien. Who in Hels name are you? He stretched the fingers that had been a fist, giving them an odd look.


    I am known as Godfred. I havee from Middanhal seeking you out.


    They are not done with me? Did they forget to kick me an extra time while I was lying down?


    Bitterness does not be you, Godfrey replied coldly. You are to perform a service for me and a task for the temple of Austre.


    Damien gave a scornfulughter. Why would I?


    The same reason you never draw that de, Godfrey told him. He extended his hand and grabbed the two-handed sword from the table.


    That is mine! roared Damien, lunging after it.


    Godfrey stepped back, out of reach, and drew the sword. One foot below the hilt, the de was broken. Godfrey threw sword and scabbard back on the table. Your honour is as broken as this sword, Lord Damien of Montmer, but I offer you the chance to redeem yourself.


    Sheathing the broken de, Damien scowled at Godfrey. Who are you to do such? You look nothing more than a pauper.


    Godfrey pulled out a piece of parchment. I am the Highfathers servant, here on his authority.


    Damien grabbed the letter. Why would the Highfather do this? he asked, still scowling.


    You can ask him yourself. Question remains, are you up to the task or not?


    The disgraced knight looked around the room, seeing only amused or unfriendly faces. To Hel with it, he dered, grabbing his sword. What is it you want done?


    The corner of Godfreys mouth curled up. Follow me.


    ~~~~


    Yes, yes, I understand, Damien imed, short of breath. Godfrey had set a brisk pace since they left the tavern; coupled with the busy streets they traversed, it was a challenge for the drunk to keep up in his state. But why?


    You should save your breath until we reach the keep, Godfrey suggested. You sound like you need it.


    If I am getting you inside the keep, I deserve to know why.


    For a soldier, youre terrible at simply doing as youre told.


    Must be why I am not wearing the colours anymore, Damien wheezed. He used the sheath in his hands to push people out of the way, attracting angry res and rude remarks. Stop evading the question.


    I am not evading anything.


    Why are you involving me? asked Damien; he was staring at Godfreys back, having almost caught up to him.


    Becausest time I had to get into that damn ce, it took me two days to find a good opportunity, Godfrey mumbled.


    What did you say?


    I said youre slowing us down. Keep up!


    Hel on a horse, Damien swore, almost staggering his way forward. What do you need to see the marshal for?


    If I wanted you to know, I would have told you.


    I take offence at yourck of courtesy, Damien dered.


    He nearly stumbled into Godfrey as thetter abruptly stopped. Quiet.


    They were outside the Order keep in Hareik. It was small; while the kings of Vidrevi were forced to ept the Order presence in their capital, they had restrained that presence as much as possible. Rather than a castle, the stronghold was built like a thick, short tower, as it had to be lower than the great oak of the temple. It held only a score of knights and a garrison of a few hundred clustered together. It possessed one advantage; it was near impossible to infiltrate, and assaulting it was a daunting task.


    Two guards stood outside the gate of the tower in Order surcoats. They scowled at Godfrey and Damien as it became apparent thetter two hade to a stop. With a smile, Godfrey approached them. Good masters, this is Sir Damien of Montmer. He has business inside the keep with the marshal.


    The soldiers sent Damien an investigative look. A sword doesnt make a knight. Where are his spurs? His horse? His armour?


    Sir Damiens appearance is not traditional, but it is nheless urgent we are allowed inside. This letter from the quartermaster at the Citadel speaks to my veracity. Godfrey pulled out parchment, handing it to the soldiers.


    One of them opened it up while the other nced over his shoulder. What does it say?


    It says that the quartermaster confirms Sir Damien was trained as a knight in Fontaine, mumbled the guard. Thats his seal. He gestured with his finger towards the bottom of the parchment.


    The other guard gave Damiens beggarly appearance an incredulous look. Youre saying this fellow is genuine?


    Im saying we should let the marshal decide. Wait here, he told Godfrey and Damien, going inside the tower.


    I need a drink, mumbled the former knight. He had nted his sword in the ground, using it to keep himself upright.


    I think you have had enough to drink for a lifetime, remarked Godfrey.


    Then bury and resurrect me, for I am getting another. Straightening up, Damien took one step away.


    Godfreys arm shot out and grabbed him by the cor. No, youre not.


    Gods damn, Damien eximed, nearly falling to his feet. Unhand me!


    I thought you wanted your honour restored, Godfrey questioned, pulling Damien closer.


    Right now, all I want is mead. My head is pounding like a sawmill, heined. Besides, what is it to you?


    You can drink yourself to death for all I care, Godfrey snorted. But not until you have served my purpose.


    To Hel with your purpose! Damien struggled against the hand grasping his cor until Godfrey willingly let go, and he fell to the ground. I will not be a ve to you!


    He was still lying down when the other guard returned. The marshal will see you, he announced, sending a baffled look at Damien lying in the dirt.


    Reaching down with one hand, Godfrey grabbed Damien under the shoulder and hefted him up. Lets go, Sir Damien. With a firm hold on the former knight, Godfrey stepped inside the tower, dragging Damien with him.


    I can walk myself! Damien sneered, and Godfrey released him.


    They followed the guard up the stairs in the centre of the tower, passing floor after floor. Finally, the soldier led them into a small room having nothing but a table and chairs. At the window stood a knight, turning to face them as they entered. He looked like most foresters and most knights; he was tall and lean with a groomed beard, and his arms held sinewy strength.


    He waved the quartermasters letter in the air. I realise that this only mentions Sir Damien trained as a knight in Fontaine, but not his current status. The marshal gave Damien a closer look. Even in this ce, I have heard rumours of a fallen knight in Hareik.


    Of Montmer, actually, Damien interjected, clearing his throat. He was holding his head with one hand, looking miserable.


    I admit to a certain curiosity what business such a disgrace might have with me.


    Disgrace? barked Damien, his eyes gaining focus.


    Godfreys hand on his chest pushed him back. Enough! Sleep it off.


    Stumbling back several steps, Damien grumbled, but Godfrey blocked the doorway. Bastards, all of you, he mumbled, moving towards the stairs.


    Behind him, Godfrey turned back to the marshal. Forgive me the tricks, Sir Starri. But there is much I must discuss with you. He began pulling out several pieces of parchment,ying them on the table.


    Leaving the others behind, Damien staggered down the stairs. The spiral steps presented quite the challenge to him, but he managed to reach the floor below and spotted the empty beds of the living quarters. He moved unsteadily forward and nearly tumbled into one of them, face down; the sword in his hand, having done its part to help him steer his course, fell to the ground with a loud noise.


    ~~~~


    A hand grabbed Damiens shoulder to rouse him from sleep. He woke, wiping his own drool from his face. Who dares, he mumbled with drowsy anger.


    Its me, Godfrey replied. He straightened up and took a step backwards, holding Damiens sword.


    That belongs to me, the warrior snarled. Expressions of pain flew across his face, but he managed to sit up and grapple towards the sword.


    I took some liberties while you were asleep, Godfrey admitted. He pulled the sword from its scabbard slowly. Inch by inch, the de was revealed, whole andplete.


    What did you do? eximed Damien, sounding both furious and frightened. Godfrey finally let him grab the sword.


    I had the smith in the keep repair the de.


    You fool, Damien sneered. You had no right. He let his fingers slide over the mended steel. You cannot repair a de once broken. You have only concealed the weakness within. This de is likely to break at first swing.


    You would do well to remember that, Godfrey instructed him. Perhaps you will be less likely to solve your situations with violence.


    Damien looked at him with a sour face. If you are trying to teach me a lesson, I am far too hungover to give a damn. Be gone, you vagrant! You have been a pestilence to me all day.


    It is a new day, Damien of Montmer, and just like this de, you are renewed. On your feet!


    What in Himils name are you on about? Leave me alone!


    Godfrey grabbed him by the cor and pulled him to stand. I am tempted, but I promised an old friend I would see you sorted. That either means you will be in Middanhal, your task done, or dead on the road. I can ept either possibility.


    I hope you rot in Hels maw, Damien mumbled.


    Time we go. I will exin your next task on the way. The wanderer and warrior left, ignoring the stares and remarks of the amused soldiers in the hall.


    ~~~~


    I see no reason why I should dance to the tune of the Temple, Damien dered as they moved through the streets of Hareik. I will require payment. Beforehand.


    Godfrey smiled sardonically. You shall be paid with something better than silver. The Highfather will release you from your wretched state.


    Damien sent him a suspicious look. He will lift the ban upon me? That sounds unlikely.


    Yet it is the case. If you prove yourself worthy.


    As if I cannot handle a simple errand such as this, the warrior scoffed. It is beneath me.


    If you would rather continue your ursed living, I cannot force you to ept, Godfrey admitted as they approached the great temple of Austre.


    Damien scowled at him. I will do it, but if this turns out to be a trick, I will hunt you down and use your guts to strap my boots.


    Godfrey nced at the other mans footwear. That would be an improvement. He stopped a short distance from the temple and pulled out a letter. This will grant you an audience with the Highfather, but be warned. If you show your face in Middanhal without the priestess, the Temrs will have no reason for mercy.


    They never have, Damien remarked. He reached out to grab the letter.


    Godfrey pulled it away. Swear upon your honour that you will aplish this task.


    Anger shed across Damiens face, but he relented. I swear I will see the priestess to Middanhal. He reached out once more, and Godfrey allowed him to take the parchment.


    Very well. Fail, and your dishonour shall continue to haunt you.


    A sneer ran across Damiens face before heposed himself. It is a long journey to Middanhal. I shall require silver for provisions.


    Godfreyughed. Coins to a drunkard, water to the sea. Come along, lets meet your travellingpanion.


    ~~~~


    In the temple of the oak, the gydja stood with a younger greenrobe near the entrance. The high priestess extended a finely carved box. Here are the seeds. Any doubts how you must tend to them?


    No, Sister. I know them all, replied the young priestess. I am honoured to be given this task.


    Many of our order need to run like the hart before making roots like the beech, the gydja told her. You have never left this temple, have you?


    I have not, Sister.


    Then it was about time. Be warned that this may not be a simple journey.


    You mean because of war in Adalrik?


    The gydja nodded. Yes. Be watchful like the hawk once you enter the jarldom of Isarn, my child.


    Of course, Sister.


    Your robe should afford you some protection, but these are dangerous, uncertain times.


    Austre walks with me, and I walk surrounded by her kingdom, the greenrobe said confidently.


    Even so, you will have apanion. He should be here any moment now.


    Who is he, Sister?


    A warrior of renown, I am sure. The Highfather tasked him with your safety, the gydja exined.


    I am surprised he would take an interest.


    As am I, admitted the high priestess. Ah, there he is, she added. Godfred, this is the man?


    Indeed, Sister, Godfrey confirmed as he and Damien approached. The former took a few steps inside whereas thetter stayed outside the entrance. Lord Damien of Montmer, as strong a warrior as you will find anywhere.


    Let us hope your strength will not be needed, Lord Damien, the gydja expressed. This is Sister Gunvor. The younger priestess bowed her head to Damien.


    I have food for the journey, she exined, extending a bag with one hand while holding the gydjas wooden box in the other.


    Damien made a growl in response, taking the bag and rummaging to find a drinking skin inside. Let us be off, he muttered.


    Yes, of course, no reason to linger, Gunvor assented. She bowed before the gydja and hurried after Damien.


    Thetter took a sip from the skin as he walked out of the temple. What is this? he asked, making a face.


    Its  its water.


    Terrible choice, he mumbled. So, which way is south?


    You dont know?


    Obviously, I can find out if you force me, he grumbled. He peered towards the sun in obvious difort. Too bright. We should have left at night.


    South is that way, Gunvor informed him, pointing in the relevant direction.


    I was about to say that, Damien imed. Let us depart, hemanded. The sooner this is done, the better. Still squinting his eyes in the daylight, the warrior began marching, and the priestess fell into pace.

 Chapter 143: Under the Hill

    Chapter 143: Under the Hill


    While an unlikely pair ambled southward, Godfrey left Hareik on a northward course. He travelled along a near empty road; nothing but small vigesy scattered around the endless forests of northern Vidrevi. The only other travellers were the asional peddlers, supplying the viges with finer fabric, spices, or bronze items in exchange for furs. Moving with his customary haste, it took only a week before Godfrey was so far north, he no longer had any roads to follow. He encountered a few more viges, where he might buy himself a meal and a dry ce to sleep. After another week, this was no longer avable either.


    Unlike Adalrik and Heohlond, where the division between cultivatednd and the Alfskog was clear, Vidrevi had no such border between the forests inhabited by Men and the woonds left in peace. Over time, the foresters had simply learned how far they might go; beyond a certain point, they would not be allowed to return. With a sparse poption, the foresters epted this readily; their own woods had more than enough room to amodate them all, and they did not mind leaving the northernmost reaches to its unseen guardians.


    Seven days after he had departed from thest vige and against their warnings, Godfrey set foot across the border that all foresters knew to beware; with a whistle and a carefree expression, he entered the Alfskog.


    ~~~~


    Judging by a nce, there was no visible change in the forest. The trees, sounds, and animals were exactly like those further south. If the foresters of Vidrevi would ever dare to venture north, they would neither see nor feel a change in their surroundings.


    The same did not seem to be the case for Godfrey. As his steps took him north-east, he appeared like a snake shedding its old skin. The lines on his brow became smooth. His shoulders rxed. His steps came with less urgency. His demeanour showed him to be at ease. As he walked, staff in one hand, he would use the other to reach out and touch the trees in passing; every so often, a smile would pass over his face. From the treetops, the birds chirped at him, sometimes making him look up and chuckle. When he bent down at the streams to drink, their cool waters would suddenly spray at him, and heughed in response.


    A week after he had left Vidrevi, a week after entering the Alfskog, Godfrey looked to be a man at peace.


    ~~~~


    Another few days urred before Godfrey came to a sudden halt. He turned slowly. Between the trees, an Elven scout stepped out, already returning her arrow to the quiver. Words flowed like a rippling brook from her mouth.


    In response, Godfrey nodded and smiled. Thank you, I would appreciate that. It has been some years since Ist came this way.


    The Elf gave a reply.


    Forgive me, but I have not spoken your tongue in a number of years that would even astound you.


    Sheughed and made a throw with her head. Godfrey joined her in walking that direction, and their conversation continued, each speaking their own speech.


    ~~~~


    In thepany of the scout, Godfrey travelled three days until she bid him farewell. She left him in a part of the forest where thend sloped upwards, and he followed this incline. After an hour, he reached a brook. It flowed over a precipice, creating a waterfall. Here, Godfrey sat down and waited. He dug out some provisions, sharing them with a curious squirrel.


    He was not made to wait long; soon, an Elf appeared by his side. You are back.


    Well met, lfwine, Godfrey said cheerfully.


    The Elf known in ancient times as Alfmod sent him a scowl. You smile, but your tidings never give me cause to do the same.


    Curse of the trade, the traveller admitted, standing up. Is your cousin here as well? I should speak with you both.


    Alfmod shook his head. He is on the hunt with his bond. They have been gone some days already, though. I suspect they return today or tomorrow.


    I shall wait in that case, with your leave.


    Of course. Come with me.


    Alfmod turned and led Godfrey towards the waterfall. They passed behind its stream to enter a cave beyond. A trained eye might observe that work had been carried out to greatly expand upon not only this cavern, but those that followed.


    Soon, there was nothing to suggest that this was a natural ce; instead, a vige spread out before Godfrey under the hill. Hallways led in every direction, giving ess to new rooms and areas. Here and there, the pair met other Elves, who always greeted them with respect. Wandering eyes would also have seen Elves at work in the various caves; bowyers, fletchers, weavers, and others tended to the simple needs of the vige. As for illumination, strange gems encased in ss upon the walls glowed with an inner light, acting asmps.


    Alfmod led him to a room so small, it was little more than a niche. I imagine you are weary, the Elf said, gesturing towards the simple bed inside.


    I am. Godfrey moved past him to lean his staff against the wall.


    I will find you food and water, Alfmod promised, pulling down the skin of a deer that acted as door. Once in darkness, Godfreyy down and fell asleep.


    ~~~~


    Godfrey. The voice came from the opening where the deerskin was pulled back. Opening his eyes, Godfrey saw Alfmod stare down at him. Alfbrand has returned.


    Already?


    You have slept for more than a day. The Elf gestured to Godfreys side, where a jug of water stood next to a wooden te with dried bits of rabbit meat. You snored. Loudly.


    My gifts are many, Godfrey retorted, supporting himself on his elbow. The other hand grabbed the water, and he emptied the pitcher with one draught. He swept the meat into his hand and got up. Lead on, he told Alfmod, already chewing.


    He followed the Elf into thework of caves, going a different route than before. Eventually, they reached another way out of the vige; stooping low, Godfrey passed under the roots of a great tree and found himself in the forest once more. As he left, the gap behind him seemed to narrow; if he had looked back, Godfrey would have seen nothing to indicate the caverns beyond. Instead, he looked forward.


    Ahead of him, Alfbrand was at work, cleaning a pair of rabbits. As Alfmod called out, his kinsman stood up and turned to face them. Standing close, the kinship was obvious; while their rtion was as cousins, it was easy to see why legend remembered them as the Brothers Swordsmen. Neither of them wore weapons in this moment, aside from Alfbrands knife, but even in their in clothing, they were as different to other Elves as wolves to dogs.


    Alfbrand stared at Godfrey; finally, he threw his knife into the soft ground and reached out to sp the travellers arm. My heart is heavy with concern to see you, yet even so, your presence makes me d.


    As am I, replied Godfrey.


    I suspected you woulde. The presence of those children you sent, my cousins disappearance two summers ago I knew you could not be far behind, Alfbrand imed.


    Children?


    That is not important right now, Alfmod hurried to say. Why have youe, Godfrey?


    I believe there will be another battle at Valmark. Perhaps this time, it will reach even into the antechamber.


    Alfbrand looked at the dead rabbits he had been cleaning. You imed so before.


    That was five hundred years ago, Godfrey protested. Ive hardly made a habit of it.


    What will you do? asked Alfmod.


    What I can to prevent this. Dy if nothing else. But if ites to it, I will make myst stand in the antechamber.


    What will happen? asked Alfbrand. You never faced our enemy in the past.


    Godfrey let out a deep breath. I dont know. But I fear no matter what, it will not be good.


    So why have youe? asked Alfmod again.


    Because he wants our swords on the battlefield, Alfbrand interjected, bending down to pick up his knife.


    Yes, Godfrey confirmed. I need you.


    We cannot win this battle for you, Alfmod dered. Nor can we march our kindred onto the field. The Song is gone from southernnds. We can barely protect it here.


    No, Godfrey assented, but the presence of the Dragonyer and the desinger might be the leaf that turns the wind.


    Alfbrand turned the knife in his hands, looking at its bloody steel. I have not drawn my de in a thousand years, he stated. I have no wish to do so now.


    Too much is at stake, Godfrey argued.


    We did our part, Alfbrand retorted. We have fought our battles.


    One battle remains. You always knew this.


    Cousin, Alfmod quickly said upon seeing Alfbrands brooding face, cing a hand on his kinsmans arm. The matter is not to be decided now. Let us speak no further of this. Alfbrand gave a slight nod, sitting down to resume his work on the rabbits.


    ~~~~


    At night, when most of the Elves were asleep, Alfbrand moved through the cavern corridors. He reached a room that held numerous bow staves and countless arrows. It also had a number of barbed spears for boar hunting, and a few magnificent armours stood on disy. Cobwebs showed that thetter had not seen use in a long time. Alfbrand walked over to a great chest standing against the wall and opened it. It contained mostly fabric. Linen shirts, woollen gambesons, and a few leather jerkins. Beneath all of them, Alfbrand dug out a sword. Its pommel was blue; the hilt was carved with runes like the swords wielded by his cousin and Godfrey.


    He did not draw the de but kept it sheathed. Taking the stance of a warrior, he thrust the sword forward and pulled back. Moving slowly at first, his speed increased as he began moreplex patterns of movement, hands and feet working in unison. Quicker and quicker, his disy of swordsmanship continued until sweat was on his brow. He moved with a grace legendary even among the Elvenfolk, but he never let the sword leave the scabbard; desinger he might be, but his de was quiet on this night.


    A voice reached him from the door. A woman stood, d in the same simple garments that everyone in the vige wore. She smiled in the dim light of the crystals mounted on the walls, speaking to him.


    He ceased his movements, lowering the sword. With a weary expression, he gave a reply and stashed the sword back into the chest.


    As he turned back to face her, she crossed the room and touched his cheek, still with a mournful smile. They exchanged a few more words until he mmed the chest shut, and they left the armoury.


    ~~~~


    The next day, Alfmod followed Godfrey out of the vige. It was a pleasant day; the sun provided heat, and the trees provided shade. The Elf handed over water and provisions to the traveller. You are wee to stay longer.


    A tempting offer, Godfrey admitted, which is why I must decline. Time has a way of slipping through my fingers in this forest.


    As you prefer. I wish you a speedy journey, in that case.


    Alfmod  will your cousin fight?


    The Elf took a deep breath. You ask much of Alfbrand. You have never stood opposite the enemy, Godfrey, not the way we have. I do not fear death, but I fear him.


    I am aware, but I must ask it nheless.


    I think my cousin will. In his heart, he knows the same as me. Some battles never end, it seems.


    At least we may receive a respite from time to time, Godfrey considered with a mirthless smile.


    If nothing else, I shall be there.


    I know, Godfrey nodded.


    Send the signal when the timees.


    When the sparrow sings and the wolf howls, Godfrey remarked, smiling wryly. They sped hands.


    Until the next morrow.


    Until then.

 Chapter 144: Rotten Berries

    Chapter 144: Rotten Berries


    The odd pair had note far from Hareik before the bickering began.


    Why would you only pack water? Damiens voice was indignant.


    Its good enough for Austres trees, its good enough for us. The words were spoken through a clenched jaw.


    Wine. Spirits. Ale. Even that honey water you moss-lickers call mead would suffice. You could have chosen any of these possibilities!


    If you are so concerned about our supplies, why did you not bring any?


    Damien grabbed the hilt of the sword by his side. I did! I took care of my part.


    Why dont you stuff that in your mouth, then.


    Hrious. If you can provide no relief for my aching head  some priestess you are  at least spare me the grating sound of your voice. He ced a hand against his forehead.


    You are the one who brought this up! Besides, what fool goes drinking the night before a journey?


    I did not know I was going on a journey, did I? Nobody warned me of travels to Adalrik, he retorted.


    Gunvor stopped. Perhaps if you are so ill-advised on this journey, you should return to Hareik. I can make my own way easily enough.


    He kept moving. No, we continue.


    Why? She remained motionless. Whats it to you?


    He looked back. I swore to see you safely to Middanhal, and Damien of Montmer keeps his oaths. He threw his head towards the road. Come on.


    She began moving, staring at him in suspicion. Something is not right.


    You sniffed that out, have you? I thought Austre favoured harts, not hounds.


    You might as well tell me.


    He cleared his throat, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sharp sunlighting from the east. The only thing wrong is that my head is pounding, and all your talking is only making it worse.


    She quickened her pace to overtake him. Hurry up, then! Its nearly a month to Middanhal, and with your steps, itll take us two!


    A dagger for a tongue, he mumbled, moving faster to catch up.


    ~~~~


    We should stop for the night, Gunvor suggested.


    There is still daylight, Damien replied, walking onwards.


    Because we are near solstice, Gunvor retorted. Its not going to get dark, but well get tired all the same.


    It is barely night, Damien argued. Let us continue a while longer.


    She gave him a nce. Youve quite the energy, considering how you dragged your feet this morning.


    As you said, its many days until Middanhal. The more ground we cover, the fewer days it will take.


    Youre hoping well find a tavern.


    There is a certain sting in your words, which I do not care for. He kept on walking, staring ahead.


    Theres also truth in them. Youre like a hog after chestnuts.


    He halted abruptly, looking at her. Are you calling me a swine?


    Only your behaviour, Lord Damien. The title was spoken with irreverence. Do you recall my name, milord?


    He nced back at the road. Of course, he mumbled, taking a few steps forward.


    Theyve given me an addled drunkard for protection, Gunvor said with exasperation.


    I am not addled! Damien barked, looking over his shoulder. Are youing?


    No. I am tired and would prefer to sleep now that we may have an early start tomorrow.


    An early start, the former knight eximed, good grief!


    As such, I am going to find a ce to sleep here. Gunvor turned from the road, walking into the adjacent forest. Youre wee to continue without me.


    Damien watched his charge leave him. With a quiet curse, he followed.


    ~~~~


    Despite Damiens fervent wishes, they did not encounter any taverns or inns as they travelled south. The road cut through forest and did not touch any viges. On asion, they strayed from the path to forage in the woods; this was mostly done by Gunvor, whose knowledge as a greenrobe made her well suited for this task. Damien followed behind her, swearing at the tree roots making him stumble.


    I will not listen to suchnguage, Gunvor dered at one point when they were on the road again. Ten days had passed with frequent disys of verbal hostilities, followed by long disys of silence.


    Seven and Eighth! What is it to you?


    There you go again! How can people take your oaths as sacred when you use sacrednguage for such vulgar reason?


    Oath and curse, the words are suitable to either cause, Damien argued. Whether I swear for one reason or the other, that is my business.


    I suppose your disregard for the gods was to be expected, Gunvor muttered.


    I have always honoured the gods, he defended himself.


    Hah, Ive heard differently.


    He reached out to grab her arm and pulled her around to face him. What is that supposed to mean?


    Let go! She ripped herself free from his grip.


    Colour flushed his cheeks. Does anyone dare cken the honour of Damien of Montmer?


    She returned his gaze without flinching. You tell me. Ive heard Damien of Montmer is an oath breaker. I heard he was a Temr, but the Highfather cast him out in disgrace. Is none of that true?


    Wrath filled his face, and his fists became clenched as he stared at the greenrobe in front him. I did not break my oath, he finally dered. Not as such. Not directly. His voice grew weak, as did his anger.


    But the rest? You were stripped of rank, your sword broken?


    He gripped the sword hilt by his side. Maybe, he mumbled.


    Her expression became incredulous. Is that the same sword? Is your only weapon a broken de?


    It is not broken, he defended himself. Just  brittle after being forged anew.


    Well thats a relief! She threw her arms out, exasperated. So itllst one blow before it breaks again! Were safe as long as were only attacked by a single bandit. Thank the gods they dont tend to roam around in packs!


    Quiet! he told her through gritted teeth, grabbing her arm and dragging her off the road.


    I told you not to touch me!


    He ignored her objections, covering her mouth with his other hand while pulling her behind a cluster of trees. Silence, he hissed, releasing her arm to point at the road. From a track in the woods, a band of archers appeared. They were clearly men of Vidrevi by their clothing, each armed with a bow and a quiver of arrows. They talked andughed among themselves while still keeping a quick pace, moving south.


    Once they were out of sight, the hidden pair rxed. With a sudden motion, Gunvor grabbed Damiens hand and pulled it away from her mouth. Thank you, Im not a child to be kept mute.


    That was not the case a few moments ago, Damien retorted.


    Why hide? These seemed like ordinary men. Brigands dont travel along the Kingsroad.


    They were not traders or farmers either, Damien pointed out. They travelled only with weapons. They were warriors, and they were going south. My guess is, they are smelling an opportunity with the war in Adalrik.


    Even so, that is no reason to presume they would have hostile intent against us.


    You turn a man into a warrior, and war will be on his mind, even in peace time, Damien muttered. I should know. I have spent most of my years among warriors.


    Is that what has made you so quick to strife? she asked with a bold look.


    No, that is just the family temper, Damien retorted, suddenly barking withughter. His mirth ended as swiftly as it had begun. Let us get going. We are wasting the day.


    They continued on their march south.


    ~~~~


    One evening, when they had travelled for almost two weeks, they saw the flickering light of a campfire in the distance.


    We should head into the forest, Damien dered. Sleep there and let these people move ahead of us.


    Or we could see if they are friendly folk, Gunvor suggested. We dont have to think that everyone we meet is our enemy.


    You dont have to think that way because I do it for you, Damien argued.


    Lord Damien, if I must spend the entire journey to Middanhal solely in yourpany, I shall go stark raving mad.


    He frowned. Fine, he conceded after a moment. Wait here.


    She watched him creep forward. There was no sign of the stumbling behaviour or unsteady movement that had been his constantpanion in Hareik; with the stealth of an experienced night raider, Damien moved quietly until the darkness enveloped him from her sight.


    Gunvor leaned against a tree, waiting. She took out the box from the bag that she carried with her at all times, opening the lid. Insidey numerous seeds, arranged in piles of dirt neatly divided by pieces of wood. They had been treated to be in a dormant state, ready to be wakened with water when the time came. They would be a boon to the gardens of the great Temple in Middanhal, providing the norns with healing herbs otherwise scarce toe by.


    It is safe, a voice spoke quietly next to her.


    Gunvor mmed the lid down as a start went through her. Im not the one youre meant to sneak up on!


    My apologies. Damien did not sound particrly sincere. They are a band of simple merchants. I doubt they can offer us any harm.


    Lets approach, Gunvor suggested. She moved towards the small camp with Damien skulking behind her.


    Even in remote and sparsely popted Vidrevi, travellers weremon upon the Kingsroad, which over time had simply be the name for any road connecting the major cities of Adalmearc. Here and there, natural campsites had developed in the asional clearing along the road. Each group of travellers making rest would cut down branches for firewood, and their beasts of burden would graze on thend; in this manner, the clearings slowly grew over the years. Inevitably, the different regions would at times be struck by cmity, usually war. The resulting drop in trade and travels would allow the forest to slowly retake the clearings until peace returned, and the merchants along with it; this increase in travellers would start the cycle anew.


    At this particr campsite, two carts stood to the side, their goods protected by a coarse leather cover. The draught animals grazed nearby, and around ten people sat in a circle around a fire. Every generation from grandfather to father and son seemed present along with mothers, wives, and daughters. None of them was armed, not counting the knives in their belts that everyone carried for mundane purposes.


    Austres peace upon you all, Gunvor called out. Even if it is night and her eye at rest.


    The travellers turned to look at her, a few with rm; they rxed as they saw a woman in green robes. The Huntress bless you, Sister, one of the men called out. Come, share our fire.


    Mypanion and I thank you, she replied, making a show of gesturing for Damien in his dark leather to step forward. His appearance caused a few more looks to be exchanged around the fire, but nobody spoke up, and room was made for the priestess and her protector to sit in the circle.


    What brings a sister of the green on the road? asked an elderly woman with a kind face; she was already fishing out bread and breaking it up, giving one half to each of the neers.


    I am on a pilgrimage of sorts to Middanhal, Gunvor exined.


    Bad times if they think a sister of the Hart needs protection for the road, someone remarked.


    I am on a pilgrimage of my own, Damien muttered. Say, you would not happen to have a drop of ale on you? Or dare I hope for a taste of wine?


    Apologies, friend, came the reply. We drank thest the other day. A sound like that of a wounded animal escaped from Damien.


    One of the children, a small boy, pilfered with the hilt of Damiens sword. The former knight reacted swiftly, pping the boys hand away. Not to be touched.


    Unabashed, the boy stared up at Damien. Are you a warrior?


    No, I am a tailor. Be gone, boy. He began stuffing the bread into his mouth.


    Come here,d, dont bother the man. He must be weary, came the reproach from the boys mother.


    Why do you have a sword, then?


    My sewing needle.


    Have you killed anyone with it?


    No, Damien replied through the bread he was chewing.


    Isnt that what swords are for?


    It is not for killing, the former knight replied, swallowing his food. It is for protection.


    Wouldnt you need to kill someone at times in order to protect? asked one of the men.


    That was never my fate as a protector, Damien simply said. Do you have water? I am parched. Someone handed him a skin, and he drank greedily.


    Where are you good folk headed? asked Gunvor.


    To Trehaf, said the eldest of the men. My sons and I usually make the trip to Silfrisarn, selling furs for silver, but with the war, we dare not go that way.


    We hope there will be inder ships in Trehaf, happy to buy our furs instead.


    Brought the family too, I see, Gunvor pointed out.


    Hareik is getting too cold for my bones, remarked the old woman. My brothers children are already in Trehaf, and they promised to take us in.


    Trade is slow in Hareik, came an interjection. Its always been too far north, too remote. Trehaf and the sea is where a merchant makes his fortune, mark my words.


    You are wee to join with us, offered the old man. At least until the road diverges between Trehaf and Middanhal.


    I do not think  the former Temr began to say.


    Damien was interrupted by Gunvor. Wed be delighted.


    He sent her a scowl; in the flickering light of the mes, she did not seem to notice. If that is to be the case, I will retire, Damien dered with a sour disposition. We have plenty of walking ahead.


    Why dont you have any armour? asked the boy.


    Seven and Eighth!


    Mind your words.


    ~~~~


    They followed the merchant family for a few more days until they reached a crossroad. The foresters went west, towards Trehaf and the sea; the pair went east, towards Adalrik and war. They separated with blessings exchanged and minor gifts, mostly food. Damien remained mute, keeping one hand on his sword hilt and the other on his belt; in the end, he simply started walking and forced Gunvor to finish her farewells and follow him.


    Freed from the slow pace of the oxen pulling the carts, they moved faster through thendscape. The surrounding forest grew thinner as they progressed; eventually, it ceased altogether.


    We have reached Adalrik, Damien quietly informed Gunvor.


    How can you tell with certainty?


    These fields are not sowed. No menfolk around to sow them, I wager, because they are at war. We are in the jarldom of Isarn now.


    Well, foresters or drakonians, they all respect a woman of the robe, I assume.


    Hamar take me! You are lucky I am with you.


    Lord Damien, she said in reproach. Mind how you speak.


    The only thing that soldiers respect is this. His hand, resting on the pommel of his sword, gripped it demonstratively.


    You see things too bleakly, Gunvor argued. Every bush may bear a rotten berry, but most of these are good, honest folk, Id wager.


    I am not concerned about the good, honest folk. He spoke thest words with condescension. One rotten berry can give us plenty of trouble.


    I thought you were a mighty warrior. Gunvor smiled sardonically. Arent the Temrs supposed to be the fiercest fighters in all the realms?


    I am not a Temr anymore, Damien muttered, quickening his pace into thends ruled by Isarn.

 Chapter 145: The Tale of Sir Damien

    Chapter 145: The Tale of Sir Damien


    On the first morning in Adalrik, Damien woke to find himself alone. It took him a while to notice this. He stretched and rubbed his eyes, drinking greedily from their water skin. He only realised Gunvors bedroll was empty once he got up and nced towards it. For a moment he stood with obvious confusion on his face; he used one foot to prod the empty bedroll. Only fabric and the dirt underneath met his movement.


    Crouching into a stance ready for battle, he crossed his hand over to grab the hilt of his sword; his eyes darted around among the surrounding bushes where they had camped. If this is some trick by Elvenfolk  if you have taken mypanion, know that I have good steel ready for you, he called out, but not too loudly.


    There was a rustle behind him, and he swung around with the sword a few inches out of its scabbard. The foliage of the bushes separated, and a green shape passed through. Damien rxed his tense body as he saw it was Gunvor; she stared at him astonished. Who are you fighting?


    You were gone, he mumbled, letting the sword slide back into its sheath. I thought someone had taken you.


    I was merely collecting a few nuts and berries. She held out the cloth in her hand that she had tied into a bundle. You sleep sote in the morning, and youre impossible to rouse.


    Soldiers habit. You learn to sleep as soon as you can, as much as you can.


    So you retain at least one habit from your soldiering days, she remarked pointedly, gathering her things.


    That sounded like a veiled insult.


    Ill be clearer with my next words. You keep holding your sword or your belt, or you hide your hands behind your back.


    Strange thing to observe, Damien muttered, picking up his cloak that served as his bedroll.


    Your hands are shaking. Thirsty, are you?


    I just like holding my belt, he yelled with sudden anger. Keep your eyes to yourself, you Hel-damned robe!


    Hand that shakes, de that breaks, Gunvor spoke with a mocking tone. How can you call yourself a warrior?


    As if a bloody priestess would know anything about that!


    Im not defenceless! she retorted, drawing the dagger in her belt.


    Reacting on instinct, Damien grabbed her wrist and bent it, making her drop the knife and exim in pain. Careful, he growled, releasing his hold. You draw a de on a man, you best be prepared to use it against him.


    Youre a brute, she said with a scowl, picking up her dagger. Youre no better than the brigands youre supposed to protect me from.


    He gave a harshughter. Trust me, I have killed far more men than any bandits you will ever meet.


    I thought you said that brittle sword of yours never killed anyone, she pointed out.


    This is a holy de, consecrated for use in the Temple, he told her with a sneer. I never killed anyone after I took the Temrs vows, except


    Except? Regale me with tales of your exploits, mighty warrior.


    With a scowl of his own, he picked up his possessions. We are wasting time. Without waiting further, he returned the road. Staring at Damiens back, Gunvor eventually followed his example; they began moving east, keeping distance to each other.


    ~~~~


    Moving from forest to farnds brought another change; the travelling pair began to see viges on their journey. None of themy close by the Kingsroad, as its only purpose was to connect the major cities, but they saw the smoke rising in the distance that spoke of hearths and homes. Inevitably after days of journey, they passed by an inn offering food and shelter to weary travellers.


    We should stop for the night, Damien dered.


    The sun hasnt set yet, Gunvor pointed out. We can easily walk another hour.


    Why sleep on the ground when beds are avable?


    It hasnt been a problem for thest three weeks.


    We can get a warm meal. Sleep without roots prodding us in the back, Damien said with a tone of temptation.


    Suchforts be a crutch, the priestess replied without much conviction.


    You can have conversation with someone other than me.


    Gunvor exhaled. If itll silence you, fine. But I have the coin purse, and I decide what we spend it on. She patted the small bag hanging by her belt. Food and beds, nothing more. We drink water, she told him pointedly.


    As you wish, Damien assented, sounding docile.


    They entered themon room and found it mostly empty. A handful of men sat scattered around the tables, drinking, talking, and ying dice. By their garbs, they were peasants from the nearby viges; none wore signs of lengthy travels like Gunvor and Damien.


    Gods peace to you, Sister, and yourpanion. Whatll it be? asked the tavern keeper.


    A meal for us both, and a simple bed for the night, she replied.


    Certainly. Thatll be a silver for each of you, and I can have my boy fetch water for a bath. Wont cost you a petty extra, the owner offered.


    Damien waved his hand dismissively. I bathed the other month.


    Gunvor gave him a look. I would be grateful for that, good master. She dug out two silver marks from her purse.


    No trouble at all. Find yourselves a ce to sit, and a bowl of stew will be on its way.


    Some water to drink, if you please, Gunvor quickly added. Damien nced elsewhere.


    Sure.


    They sat down at an empty table; momentster, the promised bowls were ced before them along with a wooden spoon and a mug of water for each. They began eating.


    You know what would go well with this stew?


    No.


    A strong, stout ale.


    No.


    A cup of red wine.


    No.


    White wine.


    No.


    Mead.


    No.


    Diluted mead.


    No.


    Water with vour of hops.


    No.


    Damien sighed. I tried.


    Just eat.


    You are a harsh task mistress. You make a good priestess.


    You would know, Im sure. All that time you spent in the great Temple. How long did you serve?


    He looked down into his bowl. I do not wish to discuss that.


    Gunvor nced around; being the only strangers, their simple presence had attracted attention, as did their conversation. Then you best eat and be quiet.


    Very well. They finished their meal in silence; with a sad look, Damien drank his water.


    Pardon me, good mistress. A boy in his early teens approached their table. The bathing room is ready for you, and theres an empty bed for each of you upstairs when you want to turn in.


    Thank you, Gunvor smiled, getting up. She passed through one of the doors to enter the adjacent room.


    It contained a hearth, upon which water could be heated; in the middle stood a tub, partly filled. Gunvor quickly undressed and stepped into the warm water with a pleased look. After enjoying the warmth for a while, she made use of the coarse soap and rags made avable to her.


    Half an hourter, she returned to themon room. Her expression turned from satisfied to rmed as she saw Damien in thepany of the other patrons, emptying a tankard as theyughed.


    Of course, by then we were long gone, leaving them with nothing but their trousers, the former knight exined.


    Friend, I think youre full of lies, but theyre well told, one of the farmers admitted.


    Gunvor stalked over to the table. Damien, I believe its time you retire, she told him.


    Uh, the wife is here, and shes not happy, someone remarked, causingughter.


    Sleep all you want, Damien told her. I am not finished.


    Yes, you are, Gunvor insisted. You should not entice these men to buy you drink.


    Damienspanions raised their hands with demonstrative innocence. Sister, wed never be so foolish. We know better than pouring coin down a bottomless well.


    I pay for my own ale, thank you, Damien told her.


    How? Did you steal from me? Her hand grabbed at the purse hanging by her side.


    How dare you! Damien eximed. Damien of Montmer is no thief! I had a silver mark down my boot, for desperate times. Old soldiers trick.


    Ive heard that name before. One of the peasants stroked his chin. Sir Damien, right? Of the Temple.


    Not as such, muttered the former knight.


    Damien, you should sleep, Gunvor insisted. She took hold of his arm, trying to pull him up, but he resisted with ease.


    I will sleep when I damn well please, he growled.


    Better listen to the wife, friend, someoneughed.


    Hey, youre right, another interjected. Damien of Montmer, he was a Temr. Broke his oaths, didnt he, lost everything. Sword broken, spurs taken.


    Lies. All lies, Damien mumbled with slurred speech. Never broke an oath.


    Sometimes you wonder, what happens to these high and mighty fellows. Several grinned. Now we know.


    Dogs, the lot of you, Damien dered, wresting himself free from Gunvors grip. I wore the ash tree upon my surcoat. I earned my golden spurs on the field of battle. I was first on the walls at the siege of Beaumont. What has any of you curs ever done? he roared.


    Weve never broken any oaths.


    Damien smashed his tankard into the table with such force, it broke in his hand. In an instant, he was on his feet, towering over the vigers.


    Damien! Pushed back by his sudden movement, Gunvor ced a hand on his shoulder, pulling at him. He swung around to face her. Anger overflowed his expression, and his empty hand was curled into a fist. This is beneath you, she said quietly, and when he hesitated, she dared to ce one hand against his cheek. A man of your stature does not involve himself in simple tavern brawls.


    Listen to the wife. Scatteredughter could be heard.


    Damien breathed heavily; his face was red with drink and anger. He stared at Gunvor until his body suddenly rxed; the broken mug in his hand fell to the floor. To Hel with all of them, he mumbled.


    To Hel with them, Gunvor reiterated.


    We should retire for the night, Damien dered.


    We should. With her supporting him, the pair walked up the stairs to the sleeping hall.


    ~~~~


    The next morning, they woke to find the other patrons gone; none else had stayed the night. The tavern keepers wife offered them some porridge and water for breakfast; otherwise, she and her family kept their distance. Damien and Gunvor ate their meal in silence; before they departed, she left a handful of copper petties on the table.


    The gods made the sun too bright, Damienined. They were in the midst of summer, and ever since leaving the forests of Vidrevi behind, they travelled on roads without shade.


    We should look for a stream soon, he remarked a whileter. We forgot to fill our skins before we left this morning. Gunvor did not reply.


    An hourter, Damien knelt by a brook, drinking his fill. Cold, he muttered. Are you not thirsty? Ignoring him, she submerged her skin until it was full once more.


    They travelled a few miles longer before Damien broke the silence again. You are not saying much today. He continued a momentter. Not that I mind. My head aches a bit.


    I wonder why.


    Probably the bed I slept on.


    Really? Really? she repeated. You dont think it has anything to do with all your drinkingst night?


    I had maybe three ales. Four at most, Damien replied casually. Nothing to trouble me.


    Oh, so you wouldnt count your behaviourst night as trouble.


    Hah! There we have it. You are angered.


    The priestess kept a quick pace, pointedly avoiding looking in Damiens direction. Why would I be? Youre a drunk. Of course youll drink when you get the chance.


    Right. d you understand.


    Never mind that you nearly started a fight and Hel knows what else!


    You must be really mad if you are using suchnguage.


    You  you absolute bastard! Gunvor yelled.


    I assure you, my parents were married at the time of my birth.


    What if there had been a fightst night? What would you have done?


    You mean if I had faced three peasants? Probably cracked their heads together and sent them home with bloody noses, Damien considered.


    And if you had killed one of them? You would have been seized as a murderer and brought to trial!


    He quickened his steps to move ahead of her and turned around, walking backwards while facing her. If so, you would be free to continue your journey alone, unhindered, Damien said with a wry smile.


    Get out of my face! He did so, albeit not of his own will; not able to watch his own steps, he stumbled and fell to the ground. You really are useless, she remarked with contempt, stepping around him.


    That is harsh, heined, getting up. He took one step and immediately fell down again.


    She stopped and turned to look at him. Really?


    I think  I may have sprained my ankle, he mumbled, avoiding her gaze.


    Gods give me strength.


    To carry me?


    To keep from strangling you.


    With some difficulty and leaning on Gunvors shoulder, Damien hobbled off the road. He sat down against a tree, removing his boot with a small grunt of pain. His sock followed after, revealing skin that was growing red and starting to swell.


    It will be fine, he imed. A bandage, maybe a walking staff for support, and I will be on my feet again.


    Depends on how much it swells. If it is bad, you should not move for a few days.


    I thought your robe was green, not red.


    You dont have to be a norn to understand a simple sprain, she retorted.


    I once fought for three hours with an arrow through my ankle. Between the two of us, I think I am the better judge of injuries, he imed.


    She looked down at his foot. I dont see any scar.


    I have two ankles.


    Fortunately only one tongue, she muttered, digging out a piece of cloth from her travel bag that she began wrapping around the swelling.


    Not too tight, he cautioned her.


    You are not the first person in the world to have ever a sprained ankle, she proimed in exasperation. There! Does it suit his lordships standards?


    He moved his foot back and forth. It will do.


    She stood up. Wait here.


    Where are you going?


    We will need more water at some point. Foraging for food and collecting firewood for tonight would also be useful. And I can imagine which of us will have to do it! She stalked away, leaving him to tentatively prod the bandage around his leg.


    ~~~~


    When night came, Gunvor had built a fire and shared anything edible she had found. Using the pommel of his dagger, Damien cracked several walnuts open and handed a few over to her.


    At least youre good for something, she mumbled.


    Nuts or skulls, the principle is the same. Apply force in the right ce, he exined.


    I didnt ask. Thats all youre good for, isnt it? Fighting.


    Yes.


    She sent him a look, taken aback. We agree on something.


    But I was never simply good. I was the best.


    I knew youd turn this on its head somehow.


    As a page in Fontaine, I beat every other page. Even those two years older than me. Even Sir Martel.


    I havent a clue who that is.


    I squired for Sir Theobald, Damien continued, adjusting himself to sit more upright. You heard of him, at least?


    Never.


    The de of the North? Now captain of the Citadel?


    That may ring a bell, Gunvor granted.


    He was the best warrior in all the realms, and for seven years, he trained me until I was his equal. He took me on because he knew I had the right mettle. That I would keep improving, keep perfecting myself, Damien dered.


    Why? asked Gunvor.


    What else is there to life when you are a knight? What other goals could I pursue?


    I dont know, she admitted. I dont know anything about knights.


    I had a gift, Damien exined. I knew I could be the next great warrior. Another Theobald, another Etienne, another Eirik Wyrmbane. I swore to myself I would not relent until I had achieved this. And I always keep my oaths.


    So I hear.


    I was thirteen when I met Sir Theobald. I challenged him to a duel. He beat me handily, of course, but he was sufficiently impressed to make me his squire and train me.


    What happened next? Opposite the fire, Gunvor stared at Damiens face illuminated by the crackling mes.


    Seven years of war as his squire. Another fifteen years of the same as a knight. I fought battles in every realm, sometimes beyond. He stared into the fire. Sieges in Ealond. Ships beyond Drake Run. Crossing rivers at night. Fighting knee-deep in snow on the slopes of the Weolcans. I killed men using spear, sword, axe, knife, mace, and il.


    That sounds like a nightmare.


    It is until the battle is over and you have won. Then it is everything you dreamt of.


    She shivered despite the heat of the campfire. What a wicked dream to have.


    He nodded, still keeping his eyes on the mes. It took me too long to realise that.


    What happened? she asked as before.


    There was a battle in Heohlond. Sir Theobald took a spear, and I knew he would never fight as before. I knew my time hade.


    What did you do?


    I fought in the grand fight at the solstice tournament, Damien rted. I crushed them all.


    You proved yourself the best.


    I did, and in that moment, I realised what it meant.


    What did it mean?


    He took a deep breath. A never-ending turn of the wheel, year after year of war. On mountain slopes or in river valleys. Attacking walls or defending them. Killing men until one day, they would kill me. I held my prize in my hand, and it was hollow. All it meant was more of the same.


    You had enough.


    I had nothing left to strive for. I sought leave to join the ranks of the Temrs. The Highfather granted it.


    You stopped killing. She nced at the sword by his side.


    For six years  or seven? Maybe five  I wore the ashen tree. I kept my vows. Obedience, poverty, chastity.


    But something happened.


    I spent an evening in a tavern in the city. A man insulted me. I was drunk, and so was he.


    How did he insult you?


    Gods, as if I have any recollection. I do not even remember hitting him.


    You killed him?


    It was not my first brawl. While unseemly for a Temr, I was never reproached for it before. Until I woke up and was told I had killed a man. He wetted his lips. The Temple paid a weregild to his family to keep the matter quiet. I was dismissed, my sword broken, and my name stricken from all records of honour.


    Gunvor shook her head. You realise thatst night you could have done the very same? Killed a man simply because of drink and anger. Do you never stop to consider?


    He gave a shrug. I am what I am.


    I dont ept that. You cant shirk responsibility for your actions so easily.


    He finally raised his eyes to stare at her. From the age of seven until I was older than forty, I spent every day training to kill or fighting to kill. I wager it would take as many years to calm the beast they woke inside of me.


    She kept his gaze for a long while before she spoke again. We should sleep. Shey down on her bedroll, closing her eyes. He agreed wordlessly, manoeuvring himself to a restful pose without disturbing his ankle.


    When Damien woke again, ncing over the ashes of the campfire, he saw no sign of Gunvor.

 Chapter 146: Root and Sword

    Chapter 146: Root and Sword


    Damien rubbed his eyes. When he was done, he still saw an empty spot where Gunvor had gone to rest. Her belongings were not to be seen either. With some difficulty, he got on his feet and limped around the remains of the campfire. There was an impression in the ground where she hadin, and footsteps led back towards the road.


    Damien turned around; as he collected his own things, he noticed a long branch ced next to where he had slept. It could serve as a crude walking staff, and upon it was carved the name of Hareik. A gift and a message in parting from Gunvor. Picking it up along with his possessions, Damien hobbled back to the road and began following it east.


    Predictably, his progress was slow. After an hour that had seen him move one mile closer to Middanhal, he had to stop. He unwound the bandage around his ankle; the swelling seemed worse, and the skin was miscoloured. He took out his knife to whittle at his walking staff, making it more even and smoother to hold. With a few deep breaths, he bandaged his ankle again and resumed walking.


    After two hours and a few more miles, his luck turned. A peasant driving a cart overtook him on the road. You in need of help?


    Friend, you have been sent by the gods, Damien responded. The farmer halted his wagon to let Damien climb onto the drivers seat next to him.


    The gods help those that help others, the driver remarked, setting the cart into motion again. In times like these, more than ever. Where do you hail from, friend?


    I havee from Hareik, Damien responded. My destination is Middanhal.


    You look the part, but you dont sound like a forester.


    I was born a riverman, Damien confirmed.


    Thats more like it, the old man nodded. Never been that far south. I was born in Isarn, and I reckon Ill die in Isarn. Thats more likely these days than ever, he added darkly.


    Yet you are not afraid to be on the road?


    Few got reason to harm an old man with naught but wool in his cart. Unless their hearts are colder than my wifes feet at winter solstice, he addedughing. What about you, friend? What brings you limping down the Kingsroad?


    Damien paused. Pilgrimage. Going to the Temple.


    You wont make it in time for solstice, sorry to say it.


    As long as I make it.


    ~~~~


    When the farmer stopped for the night, he was visibly surprised to find that Damien insisted on continuing. But  its dark! You cant do more than hobble anyway! Why not sleep? Spare your leg and drive with me in my cart tomorrow.


    I am in a hurry, Damien simply exined. But perhaps we will meet again down the road.


    The old man scratched the back of his head. I cant rightly make sense of this, but as you wish.


    I appreciate your kindness, good master. May Egnil bless your harvest until the end of your summers.


    Youre a strange fellow, but not a bad sort, the farmer replied. Rihimil keep you safe.


    He always has, Damien assented. Touching his brow with his hand in a gesture of farewell, the warrior continued down the road.


    ~~~~


    The next morning, Gunvor spent it as usual. She found some roots and fruit to break her fast along with the dried meat in her bag. When she had ked her thirst as well, she checked the seeds lying in their box; satisfied all was in order, she returned to the road.


    She looked towards the south-east, where Middanhaly. Before starting her days journey, she glimpsed towards west and saw a shape in the distance. Her eyes narrowed; disbelief filled her face. In the end, she began walking west, approaching the other person.


    Is this some trick? Some form of punishment? Gunvor asked when the distance between them had lessened.


    You tell me, Damien retorted. You are the one who left me behind.


    I thought you would return to Hareik.


    What for? What is there for me in that city?


    I dont know. I just thought


    You just thought it was the opposite direction of you, Damien interjected. Well, I am a free man, and I chose this direction.


    You must have walked  or limped  all night to catch up with me. Are you mad?


    On the contrary, I would say that betrays good sense. If I had spentst night in sleep, you would only have put greater distance between us.


    Your foot must be killing you, she scolded him. Sit down, for heavens sake.


    He quickly obliged. It does feel a bit worse than yesterday.


    She sat down to remove boot and bandage from his ankle. The skin was purple and ck. This will take many days to heal, she said in reproach. I cant believe you were so reckless.


    Nothing reckless about it. I swore to see you in Middanhal. I keep


    Yes, yes, you keep your oaths. I know. I hope you are happy. We are stuck here for days, at least.


    With that in mind, I would ask you to promise me that you will not abandon me again.


    She gave him a look. You think I am that eager to get to Middanhal?


    You did not abandon me before because I would slow you down.


    She turned her eyes down, staring her hands. No.


    You did not trust me. You still do not trust me, I wager.


    Hard to say.


    It is possible I make bad decisions from time to time, Damien admitted.


    Possible?


    Likely, he granted. But you may still have need of me before the road ends.


    Maybe. Or maybe I will be fine on my own.


    He hesitated. Well, I have need of you. To make things right. To have the Highfather lift his curse upon me.


    I thought you were simply thrown out of the Order.


    The Highfather felt I deserved worse punishment. Damien swallowed. He was right. But I cannot go on like this. He stared at Gunvor. Please. Promise me you will stay.


    She nodded slowly. I promise. But since we are trapped here for now, I will make better use of my time and collect a few useful herbs. She rose to her feet.


    He looked up at her. You wille back?


    She nced down at him. You will have to trust me on that.


    ~~~~


    Gunvor returned an hourter. Sitting in the shade under a tree, Damien made no remark as he saw her approach, although he had been scouting the horizon the entire time she had been gone.


    It would have been best if we could get you to a cold stream, she considered, looking down upon his ankle. But there doesnt seem to be any near here. At least I found these. She extended her hand, which held a bundle of roots and herbs.


    Those are odd berries.


    Funny. She used some water from one of the skins to clean the roots of dirt before giving them to Damien. Chew on them. Slowly.


    Cautiously, he epted the stringy nts and put them in his mouth. He quickly pulled a face as he began chewing. Bitter.


    Thats how you know it works. Keep chewing. You want it all released.


    This is the strangest form of torture I have ever endured.


    So funny. Its owls root. Itll help with the swelling.


    You would know.


    Yes, I would. She gave him a few herbs as well. When you are done with the owls root, chew these after. Slowly!


    Yes,mander.


    Dying withughter.


    What do these do? He finally swallowed the roots.


    They will ease your hands and  other symptoms.


    My hands? Oh. Thank you. He looked down to see them tremble slightly.


    Youre wee. I should search for water, she considered. If we are here for several days, well need more.


    I would not worry, Damien dered with a casual air. I am sure the gods will provide for us soon enough.


    Dont mock them.


    I do no such thing, he imed. I meant it. Give it time, and I am confident that our plight will be amended.


    She gave him a suspicious look. I didnt expect that from you.


    In the meantime, I will sleep. Hey down and did as proimed.


    When a cart carrying wool and an old farmer rumbled down the road three hourster, Gunvor widened her eyes. She turned to rouse Damien from his rest with excited words. Her expression turned into a scowl as she saw himugh. Shortly after, they were seated on the cart, driving eastwards.


    ~~~~


    Dayster, they parted ways with the farmer; as the road split, he went north towards the summer fair of Silfrisarn, while they continued east towards Middanhal. By now, Damiens ankle had recovered enough that they could continue on foot.


    I never thanked you for this, he said in sudden realisation. He hoisted the walking staff in his hand.


    Oh. Of course. I couldnt leave you entirely crippled and alone.


    Your lettering could use work, though. He let his thumb nce over where the name of Hareik was carved.


    My  oh, so hrious. I have actually never carved anything before.


    I thought that would be an obvious pursuit for a priestess of Austre.


    It would, but it isnt the case for me, she exined.


    What is?


    What?


    If I remember, you have never left Hareik before. Why did the gydja choose you for this task?


    I grew up in the forest, Gunvor told him. But I have rarely left Hareik since joining the order. Our duties towards others necessitate that we dwell where others dwell, after all.


    This displeased you?


    I felt that I was neglecting my duties towards Austre. The forest is her domain. If I could choose, I would not serve her in the cities, but elsewhere.


    Such as?


    Anywhere with a forest and people, she smiled.


    As their conversation continued, their attention turned from their surroundings to each other; by the time they realised that a band of warriors was approaching them, it was toote to hide.


    I do not recognise those colours, Damien mumbled. They are not Isarns men.


    They will recognise mine, Gunvor dered confidently. They remained standing, waiting; Damien shifted his weight, hiding that he was favouring one leg over the other.


    Hail, said one of the warriors, ostensibly the leader. He was d in mail and had a sword by his side. His followers had leather for armour and a variety of shields; most wielded axes. This is dangerousnd to travel.


    Indeed, but sacred duty requires it, Gunvor replied. She took out the box of seeds from her bag. I have been charged to bring these seeds to the Temple in Middanhal. As gods-fearing men, you have no objection to this, surely.


    Indeed, Sister, we will not hinder your way, the leader promised. But you are aware that we are at war. Besides keeping thisnd safe, Jarl Isarn has charged us with collecting toll on the road to pay for his defence.


    Has he now, muttered Damien, standing tense.


    Of course, Gunvor assented loudly. She opened her coin purse to take out several eagles. Thank you for keeping the roads safe. She let them drop in the palm of the leaders hand.


    Much appreciated, Sister.


    What about that box? asked one of the soldiers suddenly. He had his eyes on Gunvors bag. Show us whats inside.


    As you wish. As I said, its only seeds. She dug out the box again and opened it, revealing its content. See?


    Why you need a swordsman with you just to protect some dirt? asked the same warrior. Greed was beginning to take hold of his expression. Chief, Im betting you theres gems hidden inside.


    Upon my word as an ordained sister of Austre, I swear to you, we have no wealth, Gunvor dered. Behind her, Damien gave a growling sound.


    Lets see for ourselves, insisted the soldier, pushing to the front and reaching out.


    Damien stepped forward, raising his staff as a weapon. The sister has given her word. I have watched her carefully tend to those seeds every day for weeks, and I will not let your oafish hands rake through them and destroy her work.


    Thats a lot of lip from a man on his own, sneered the soldier. Ignoring Damien, he reached out to grab the box from Gunvors hands. The former knight used his staff to p the warriors hand away, spurring several of the warriors to raise their weapons. In turn, Damien threw his staff behind him for Gunvor to catch, and he raised his open hands before him.


    Listen! You boys are all drakonians, I take it, Damien said, looking at the leader, who nodded.


    What of it? He had not drawn his sword, preferring to take a step back to stand amongst his men.


    I am Damien of Montmer. You might have seen me years ago, winning the grand fight at solstice.


    Hah!


    Cant be!


    Nheless, it is true. Believe me that if any of you touches that box, I will cut his hand off. We paid your toll. Now let us be on our way.


    The leader nced from Damien to his men; they seemed as divided in opinion and courage as he did. Youre really him? The oath breaker?


    Yes. The word was forced past gritted teeth.


    Hes lying, chief. Lets kill them both and sort through their things!


    Damien moved one hand to grip his sword. If need be, I will kill each of you to protect the sister and her seeds. To me, dying over a box of dirt seems foolish, but I am prepared to oblige you.


    The leader spent another moment considering the oue. Let them pass. They paid the toll. Were not thieves. He gestured for his men to stand aside on the road.


    All of them did save the soldier who had already tried his luck once before. Without warning, he took a step towards Damien, raised his axe, and struck.


    Swifter than a falcons dive, Damiens sword left its sheath. It met the soldiers axe and turned it aside. The impact broke the de in twain; undeterred, Damien swung the remaining edge around and cut into several fingers.


    Howling with pain, the soldier dropped the axe and clutched what remained of his hand. Damien swiftly kicked him to the ground. I will let you keep the rest of your hand. Consider yourself fortunate.


    He knelt down slowly, watching the remaining warriors, and picked up the piece of his de that had broken away. Nodding to Gunvor, he gestured for her to follow. Keeping their distance to the soldiers, the pair passed them by and continued along the Kingsroad.


    ~~~~


    When they had lost sight of the patrol, Damien cleaned his sword and ced both pieces in the scabbard.


    I am sorry you had to fight and break your sword.


    No matter. It was bound to happen.


    At least the rest didnt want to fight.


    Damien shrugged, taking his walking staff back from Gunvor. They were a poorly disciplined lot. I could have beaten them all, broken de or not.


    I am sure you could have.


    It would have been a nice challenge. Part of me regrets I let them get away.


    Why did you?


    You might have be hurt in the fight. As I am sworn to protect you, that seemed an ill course of action.


    I suppose it does. She gave a smile. Perhaps you are not the worst protector to have.


    High praise, he snorted. Sheughed, sounding relieved, and eventually, he joined in.

 Chapter 147: Restoration

    Chapter 147: Restoration


    About a month after they left Hareik, the double walls of Middanhal rose in the horizon to meet them. They had encountered the first Order patrol a few days prior; unlike in thends of Isarn, the soldiers simply let them pass. As they came closer to the city, they met several more contingents of Order troops and even mercenaries. Damien scowled upon seeing thetter, which they hardly seemed to notice; thus, without further incidents, the pair reached the capital of Adalrik.


    They entered through Woolgate. There were few other travellers passing into the city; as if topensate, a great number of soldiers loitered around the gate and surrounding fortifications.


    Damien paid little heed to their surroundings; in contrast, Gunvor stared with something approaching awe. I have never seen a building so big! She gestured with excitement at the Citadel.


    I suppose it is quite the size, Damien assented. Probably the biggest castle in all the realms, if not the world.


    It must be!


    Come along. We follow the Arnsweg, and it will take us to the Temple.


    The Arnsweg?


    He pointed down. The road we are walking right now. Built by Arn, I presume. But these drakonians will im that about anything. You meet a farmer living two stones from the Alfskog, he will im that Arn himselfid the foundation of his outhouse. Despite his disparaging remarks, a smile yed on his face.


    Gunvorughed and nced at him. You seem in good cheer.


    I would never admit it to a drakonian, but there is something special about this city. He gave a sigh. It feels good to have returned.


    What will you do next?


    Well, I am taking you to the Temple, of course.


    After that, she rified. Do you intend to stay?


    You know, I should probably have put some thought into that, he admitted with a wry smile. I never considered beyond Middanhal. I suppose you will return to Hareik?


    I will discuss it with the gydja of my order here in Middanhal, Gunvor exined. The gydja in Hareik left me free to decide.


    Would you consider that? Staying in Middanhal?


    Possibly, she contemted. It would certainly be a change from Hareik! But maybe the gydja will know of a small temple elsewhere that needs a priestess. Somewhere with a forest.


    That sounds pleasant.


    She cleared her throat. If you have no other options avable to you, perhaps you should consider bing a temple guard.


    Hah! The Temrs would seethe with rage if I became employed at the Temple, even as a lowly guard.


    I did not mean the Temple, she borated, stressing the secondst word. With my rmendation, I am sure any temple of Austre would ept you.


    His mouth curled upwards. That is a kind thought. Maybe. They separated briefly to walk around a cart driving towards them; when they met on the other side, he spoke again. Thank you for this journey. His left hand was on his sword hilt, but it seemed mostly out of habit; his right hand was barely shaking.


    I am the one who should thank you, surely.


    He shook his head. I did this for my own sake. It has been a long while since I had to think of anyone else. It has done me good. He looked up; ahead of them, they could see the Temple dome. I med the Highfather, the Temrs, and many others for my current misfortune.


    But now?


    I still do, heughed. But there is a fight inside of me, and the drink makes it worse.


    What fight?


    Even now, when I grasp my sword, I relish it. The world bes slow, like  like moving through water, he exined with a feebly voice. All thoughts disappear. I know exactly what to do. I am never afraid because I never imagine I could lose a fight. In those moments, I am Damien of Montmer once again. So half the time, I feel the urge to be that man again.


    And the other half?


    The rest of the time, I am sick to my stomach of blood. Sick of feeling empty when it ends, remembering that I have nothing else. He took a deep breath. I do not know what to do. But it cannot go on. Maybe  maybe a quiet life guarding a temple by a forest is what I need.


    She took his arm, letting him steer her through the crowd, which grew thicker the closer they came to the Temple. Once I have spoken to the gydja, perhaps we can make ns.


    Perhaps.


    ~~~~


    They reached the Temple square; solstice was long over, and it had returned to its usual state as a marketce. This allowed them to easily make their way across and walk up the stairs.


    As they reached the teau in front of the entrance, the two Temrs standing guard surged forward to block their path. You have some nerve showing your face, one of them growled.


    You best be gone before I finish my sentence, warned the other.


    Damien pulled out a letter. I am here at the Highfathers bequest.


    The Temrs exchanged looks of disbelief, but one of them grabbed the creased parchment to unfold and read it. Seven and Eighth, this seems genuine.


    You cannot be serious, remarked the other.


    I will investigate this. Wait here, the first Temrmanded, disappearing into the Temple.


    You should go ahead, Damien told Gunvor. This might take a while.


    Where do I find you afterwards?


    At the central basin in the gardens.


    Very well. She stepped forward, and the remaining guardian let her pass into the Hall of Holies.


    Damien waited outside, pointedly ignoring the Temrs scowls. With a demonstrative grip upon the pommel of his two-handed sword, once consecrated to holy service, he used his other hand to lean against one of the pirs.


    Eventually the other Temr returned, sending hisrade a look. Silently, he gestured for Damien to follow, which thetter did with a smug expression.


    The anointed knight led him straight through theplex and into the gardens in the middle. He took Damien to a bench, where the Highfather sat in his customary, unadorned robe.


    Thank you, Sir Wulfric, the old priest told the knight, who bowed and left. He turned his attention on Damien. I was told you returned in thepany of a sister of Austre.


    Yes, Holy One, Damien confirmed. His voice was t.


    I assume you havepleted the task I ced upon you.


    Yes, Holy One.


    Very well. Kneel. Damien did so, while Septimus stood up and ced his hand upon Damiens head. You are returned to the embrace of the gods. You may seek shelter in their refuge. You may seek their blessing. You are spared their wrath. Under the eyes of the dragon, the raven, the bull, the horse, the bear, the hart, and the eagle, this will be.


    This will be, Damien mumbled. As the priest withdrew his hand, he rose to stand.


    You are free to go where you please, Septimus told him, and I ce no furthermands upon you. But this silver is yours to speed you on your way, and this letter contains news you should hear. The priest ced a small purse and a letter in Damiens hands, leaving him alone.


    ~~~~


    When Gunvor went to the Temple gardens, she saw no sign of Damien at the central basin. She searched around for a while until she found him sitting on the bench. He was staring at a letter in his hands.


    Damien? she said cautiously. He looked up. Is something the matter?


    A letter from my fathers steward. There was a battle in Ealond between the kings forces and those of Duke Belvoir.


    That sounds ominous.


    My father fell on the field, and when my brother tried to save his body from muttion, he was in as well.


    Those are dreadful news! She sat down next to him, cing a hand on his shoulder. I am so sorry!


    You need not be on my ount. Last I saw either of them, I was still a squire. We were strangers to each other.


    Still, you have my condolences. What of your poor mother?


    Dead years ago. I have a sister, but neither of us have any interest in the other, I wager, Damien exined. Regardless, they want me home. He waved the letter in the air.


    Of course. You must pay your respects.


    I had not thought of that, but I suppose I must.


    Will you  do you intend to stay in Ealond?


    He nced down at the letter. I probably have to, seeing as I am the new baron of Montmer.


    She pulled her hand away from his shoulder. Baron?


    My father was the thirteenth baron of Montmer. As the second son, I went into the Order, Damien exined, sounding absent-minded. His eyes continued to move across the letters on the paper in his hand. But now I am the closest heir.


    You are not only nobleborn, your family is entitled, Gunvor said softly. And now you are as well.


    In the faintest sense of the word. Montmer is little more than a keep with a scrap ofnd to its name.


    Yet there is still a world of difference between Lord Damien and Baron Damien.


    Only the difference we make of it. He gave a shrug and looked at her. What of you? Was the gydja satisfied with your efforts?


    She was. I am free to stay here or return to Hareik.


    What will you do?


    She stood up from the bench. I dont know. I need to think.


    Same here. He stood up as well. I should find lodgings. It is toote in the day to set out for Ealond.


    Of course. Farewell, milord.


    Fare you well, Sister.


    Gods be with you. She turned and left with hasty steps.


    He watched her leave and clenched the coin purse in his hand. I need a drink.


    ~~~~


    When the Highfather returned to his cell, he found Godfrey waiting outside. You are still here? I thought you went to see the Quill.


    I decided to dy until tomorrow. Also, I have a letter you should sign.


    Of course. The priest unlocked the door to his room. Damien of Montmer arrived just today.


    I had my doubts, Godfrey admitted, but this was never my scheme to begin with.


    Indeed, it was mine. Septimus opened the door, and they stepped inside. I have my own doubts whether he will ever be a capable lord of Montmer, but that is out of my hands.


    Who approached you? Godfrey asked as they sat down. I cant imagine who would take an interest.


    The new Veiled Sister in Fontaine, though I cannot understand either why she would care. I suspect she acted on anothers behalf.


    But you helped her nheless.


    After my visit to Fontaine, I thought it best the sibyls saw the gentle side of the archon, Septimus exined. The heir to Montmer is restored, and the Veiled Sister has been shown a kindness. He picked up his quill. You had a letter?

 Chapter 148: Where Power Presides

    Chapter 148: Where Power Presides


    In the study belonging to the dragonlord, the ruler of Adalrik toiled away daily. While themon people assumed that power resided with the lord protector, Jarl Valerian of Vale, most residents at court were wise to the truth; his brother was not only the Kingmaker, but also the man making all decisions of import. Because of this, there was a crowd every day outside his wing in the pce, and even in the long summer days, Konstans worked from dawn until nightfall.


    The only man working as hard as the dragonlord was his servant, admitting people into audience ording to strict rules of rank and the importance of their errand; some jested that this made him the second most powerful man in the realm. Despite this, even he could not prevent thedy Mathilde from storming into Konstans study.


    I am sorry, milord, the servant muttered.


    Konstans waved him away; this had happened before. Dearest wife, I am not opposed to seeing you, but some advance warning to set aside my current affairs would be preferable.


    This cannot wait.


    Konstans returned his feather pen to its inkwell. What is it?


    I have found out why my missives to my fathers steward has gone unanswered. The fool is trying to locate my useless brother!


    That would be his duty, Konstans remarked dryly.


    If Damien has not died in a ditch somewhere, he is certainly drunk in one of them! You have to intervene!


    What exactly is it you imagine I should do?


    Send Konstantine with me to Montmer! I will have him dered baron within a day of our arrival, and our son can finally have at least one title he deserves!


    Konstans gave her a look. Dearest, your father and brother died in battle as vassals to King Rainier, who not only is losing a war against his own subject, but also has designs on Thusund, from what I hear. And you wish for our son to be his new vassal?


    Mathilde dropped into a seat. I had not considered that.


    Clearly. If you feel idle and want to help our son, make preparations for his wedding, Konstans suggested.


    How soon should it be? I assume the sooner, the better.


    Konstans shook his head. I only just announced the engagement, and we should observe tradition. I would say sometime next spring. The beginning of the year is an auspicious time for weddings.


    Mathilde frowned. You have never been one for observing tradition before. Would it not be wiser to have the marriage done with expedience? We want Konstantine and the Hardling girl to have a son as swiftly as possible.


    I would agree, but with the war dragging on, we need something to raise peoples spirits. A wedding with all the traditions observed is both a guarantee of the past and the future, Konstans considered.


    Very well. You shall have a celebration that Middanhal will never forget, Mathilde promised.


    I have no doubt.


    This would suggest you are not optimistic that the war will be over any time soon, she continued.


    Konstans had been reaching for his quill; he abandoned the motion and leaned back. Isarn has strengthened his numbers, in particr with archers. I suspect he is hiring foresters to fight for him.


    Just as we are hiring mercenaries against him.


    Konstans nodded. It is bing a contest to see who has the deepest coffers.


    Surely we shall prevail, in that case.


    I believe so. I have ns in motion to speed matters along, Konstans revealed.


    I am sure you have, dear husband. I shall leave you to your ns, but I would urge you to join us all for dinner in the hall tonight. You do not eat enough, and it will be good for the court to see their dragonlord.


    I shall endeavour to find the time, he promised; he reached for his quill once more and was not interrupted again.


    ~~~~


    Although he left many tasks to his brother, the lord protector had taken a keen interest in one aspect of ruling the realm. The court kept meticulous records of all ie and expense, and true to his ekename as the Bookkeeper, Valerian was poring through the materials. He did so in thepany of Edwin, alderman of the guilds.


    Even a child would notice the Crowns falling revenues, Valerian began by saying. He was seated behind a desk with numerous ledgers in front of him, opened at various ces. The challenge is deducing why.


    Forgive me, milord, but is it not exined by the expenses of war and no taxes from most of northern Adalrik?


    Ah, but that only covers thest few years. Valerian moved his fingers across the ledgers. The decline started long before. Thirteen years ago, in fact.


    If you say so, milord. Its not my ce to inspect these books. He licked his lips.


    When did you be alderman, Master Edwin? Valerian set his eyes on the guildsman; suddenly, his face was cold.


    I confess, I cant recall the exact year


    Thirteen years ago, master alderman. I already checked.


    Very wise. Knowledge is the fountain of wealth, Edwin mumbled.


    I have gone through the books,paring all the sources of ie. The decline is most prominent in taxes levied upon the guilds, Valerian remarked.


    We have fallen on hard times, Edwin confessed, breathing quickly. Disruption of trade hits our people twofold. It impoverishes those who would be our customers and robs us of the materials we need for our crafts.


    What disruption? Valerian scoffed. Other than thest years of war, trade has been flowing as ever. My caravans have only increased year after year.


    Your skill as a merchant is only exceeded by your nobility as a jarl, milord, Edwin said subserviently. I fear not all have your skill. More than a decade after the hignder war, stone and marble is still far more expensive than it was before. Many of our stone cutters and artisans have been forced to give up the trade.


    Ah, but see here, Valerian eximed, paging through one ledger. The artisans guild did indeed contribute only half as much in the years during the war, but two yearster, the amount rose, only to sharply decline in the next three years. There has not been war in Heohlond since then to my knowledge. He looked at the alderman expectantly.


    Indeed not, milord, and thank the gods for that. I shall make enquiries to the guild master of the artisans on your behalf, Edwin promised. I will do so immediately with your leave.


    Valerian raised a finger. Not yet. He began moving books around until he found his quarry. The weavers are paying one third of what they did twenty years ago! One third! If there is one thing people always have to sell, it is wool, and if there is one thing people always need, it is cloth! Can you exin this decline to me?


    On the other side of the desk, Edwin sweated nervously.


    ~~~~


    Valerian was not the only person in the Citadel going through ledgers, but unlike the lord protector, Arndis inspected her own books. Compared to those of the kingdom, her finances were modest and fit into a few ledgers;pared tondless nobility, she was a wealthy woman. She had managed to grow the coin from Brands spoils as an Ordermander, and as she sat writing her ounts, she looked the part of a merchant except for her dress; it was meant for life at court, not work at a desk.


    She looked up as Eleanor entered her room. Anything of interest?


    Not much. Jarl Theodstan is leaving the Citadel soon, apparently.


    He has lost his stomach for politics, Arndis remarked as her eyes returned to her ledgers.


    But one of the girls overheard Lord Marcaster tell his wife they would be staying for the time being. She thinks thendgrave hopes to marry his daughter to the prince, Eleanor rted.


    Arndis lips curled upwards. He came close with the previous prince.


    The jarlinna Alexandra made mention of you in passing.


    She looked up. What did she say?


    Simply expressed her dislike of you, I believe. Eleanor looked apprehensive. I was unsure whether to tell you. It seems of no consequence, and I do not want to remind you.


    You do no harm in telling me, Arndis reassured her.


    It is a shame she is so disinclined towards you. She would make a powerful friend.


    She would, Arndis assented, but as long as she mes Brand for her fathers death, I doubt she will show me any hospitality.


    I suppose.


    Anything else?


    Eleanor shook her head. Nothing. You shoulde along tomorrow. The girls would be excited to have yourpany, I am sure. It has been many days.


    Arndis gave a small nod. Why not? With solsticepleted, my books are in order until the fairs beyond Middanhal arepleted.


    Will you have good fortune selling on the fairs? Eleanor asked.


    I expect I will, Arndis smiled. Enough talk of trade for now. Let us take a walk, she suggested. I need a change from these stonewalls.


    ~~~~


    Outside the entrance to the royal library, two kingthanes stood guard. The heavy door silenced most noise, but on asion, they could hear faintughter. Upon seeing a shape ascend the stairs to reach the corridor, they both adopted expressions of contempt. One of the thanes opened the door, stepping inside the library. Forgive me, my prince. That Dwarven mercenary is here again.


    Three faces turned towards the door. One belonged to a scribe, the second to a servant girl, and the third to a prince. Let him through,manded thetter.


    The kingthane nodded and returned to his post; he and hispanion red at the Red Hawk upon the Dwarfs surcoat, but neither spoke. With a grin and open hands to show himself unarmed, Jorund walked past them to enter the library, closing the door behind him. My prince, my scribe, my scullery maid, heughed, adding a bow to his greeting.


    Jorund!


    Youre back!


    It is a pleasure to see you returned, Master Jorund.


    Its good to be returning! Only thing better would be to never leave!


    The youthsughed. What would yourmander say about that? asked Egil.


    Hed have my hide and send me bleeding out on patrol, Jorund grinned.


    Kate was next. What did you see out there? Did you fight any rebels?


    The scurrilous bastards  pardon my choice of words, my prince  dont daree this close to Middanhal. I spent weeks walking on dirt roads and through fields, meeting no enemies but stray dogs trying to steal my supper!


    I am d there has been no need of bloodshed, Inghard dered, though it makes me wonder how this war will ever reach an end.


    Once these noblemen get tired of throwing coin out the window, I bet theyll be ready to negotiate peace, the Dwarf told them with a wry smile. Until then, me and mypany will be standing outside that window, filling our purse! What about you young rascals, what have you been up to?


    Jorund, you cannot speak to the prince that way, Kate scolded him.


    The Dwarfughed. Very well! What have you two rascals and our esteemed prince been up to?


    We found an old tale about the Brothers Swordsmen, Egil eagerly exined.


    It was curious, Inghard admitted. From what we could tell, the famed swordsmen were cousins, not brothers. If not even their name is true to circumstance, it casts everything we know about them into doubt.


    Most curious, Jorund assented. He patted the short sword by his side. Perhaps they were Dwarves!


    That seems fanciful, Inghard frowned.


    Wheres the old man? the mercenary asked.


    His youngpanions shared looks of apprehension. Master Quills in his room, Egil finally replied. He hasnt left it in a while.


    Ah.


    Jorund, wont you tell us a story from your travels? asked Kate.


    Again? If stories were coins, you young marauders would rob me blind!


    Jorund, please! pleaded Egil.


    But what if I have none left?


    If so, we will be satisfied with the retelling of a familiar story, Inghard granted.


    Hah! I see that I am in the ws of ruthless brigands. Youll never let me be, will you.


    Never!


    Very well, seeing as I have no choice. Jorund threw his hands up in surrender before sitting down on a bench by a desk. Have I ever told you of the time I met a jinni?


    Inghard sat down next to him, while Egil and Kate positioned themselves on the floor in front of him. Tell us more!


    They are devious creatures, full of trickery and not to be trusted! Much like Elves in that regard, except the jinn are creatures of air and fire, and they live in the desert.


    Like dragons, Egil inserted. They are also born of air and fire, I read.


    Really? asked Inghard. Where did you read that?


    The old codex we found. After the story of the Brothers Swordsmen, it continued to talk about Sigvard, dragons, and the Great War.


    Youre interrupting the story! Kates voice was indignant.


    Keep your sails up, Jorund grinned, well get there soon enough. Now I imagine facing a dragon is not a tale most live to tell, and the same goes for meeting a jinni! This was many years ago, you understand, back before I joined up with the Red Hawks

 Chapter 149: A Prince and his Quill

    Chapter 149: A Prince and his Quill


    Next day, Egil sat alone in the scriptorium when he heard the door open. Kate? he questioned.


    Not quite, Godfrey replied, entering the library hall.


    Egil stuck his head out from the adjacent room. Youre here! I havent seen you in months!


    Ive been busy. Is your master present?


    Egil looked towards a closed chamber door. He is in his room. He doesnt leave it anymore, really. Kate and I look after him, bring him food and water, but he doesnt eat much.


    Godfrey sat down, letting his walking staff rest on a table. I see. I feared something like this.


    Like what? Whats happening to him?


    I think the cruel treatment at the hands of your former prince broke not only his body, but also his spirit.


    Egils lips quivered. The physician gave up on him, but there must be something we can do!


    Godfrey shook his head. I know of no remedy for such a mdy.


    What about the norns at the Temple? They know every cure!


    They can only heal his body. I fear the best you can do is simply to keep himpany and tend to his needs.


    What about  what about the Elves? Egil lowered his voice. They have strange powers, right?


    None of this nature. Not even the heroes of old possessed such strength.


    How do you know? You cant know everything.


    I have seen it before. Quill is lost in his own mind. Only time and his strength of will can save him, Godfrey dered.


    I dont believe that, Egil argued.


    Believe what you wish. But there is nothing you or I can do for him. Prepare yourself, Egil. You may find yourself assuming the duties of the Kings Quill much sooner than you thought. With those words, Godfrey stood up, grabbing his staff. You and I will speak again on that ount. On my return.


    Egil watched him leave and turned his gaze to slide over the countless volumes of lore covering the numerous shelves. With a determined look, he began searching through them.


    ~~~~


    Around noon, the alderman of the guilds went to the Citadel for the second day in a row. This time, it was not the lord protector who summoned him, but the dragonlord. With a nervous look, Edwin sat down opposite Konstans.


    I have prepared an edict for you to bring to the guilds, the dragonlord exined. Calm yourself, he added with a frown. I am not demanding anyones head.


    Forgive me, milord, Edwin replied, using his sleeve to wipe his brow. These are trying times, especially for us poor merchants and craftsmen, simply trying to get by.


    Not all your brethren are suffering from hardship, Konstans remarked. Despite the war, I am told that some traders seek to the summer fair in Silfrisarn.


    The roads are dangerous, milord, its true, but all would suffer if trade ceased to flow. While he may be a traitor, even Jarl Isarn sees the value in protecting the merchants on his roads.


    I agree with you on both ounts, but not entirely. I think Isarn would suffer far more if all trade ended with his jarldom. It is therefore in the best interests of the Crown to see that happen.


    Oh, milord, so few merchants would dare take the trip these days, I believe that has already happened.


    That seems doubtful. The fair at Silfrisarn is where copper from Vidrevi meets tin from Heohlond, not to mention furs, wool, iron, salt, and countless other goods to make life easier.


    Your knowledge of these matters would be the envy of any merchant, Edwin imed.


    While the war may have disrupted trade, it is certain to embolden others. Greater risk, but also greater reward.


    Sadly, greed does take hold of some, the alderman assented.


    The Silfrisarn fair is a great source of wealth, which Isarn must be deprived of. Trading at the fair is the same as aiding an enemy of the Crown and thus treason in itself, Konstans dered.


    Edwin wiped his brow furiously. Milord, those are strong words.


    They are also true. Are you concerned, master alderman? Do you have goods being carted to Silfrisarn, perhaps? Konstans kept his piercing gaze on the merchant.


    Id never dare, milord! As you say, such is certain to enrich the jarl Isarn.


    I fear not all your guildsmen might have the same attitude. Greed often wins out. To that end, I have prepared this edict. Konstans picked up a parchment from his desk and handed it to Edwin.


    The alderman ran his eyes across the writing. Really, milord, is this necessary?


    In this manner, none can im ignorance. Have the promation spread amongst your members. I have already sent it to the town criers. It goes into effect immediately, the dragonlord added.


    Edwin swallowed. Yes, milord. As you wish.


    You are dismissed.


    ~~~~


    Some hourster, Eleanor entered the rooms she shared with Arndis and found thetter buried in paper and parchment. Arndis? I thought you wereing with me to the gardens.


    Something hase up, the other woman replied. Our esteemed dragonlord has made a neww.


    What is it about?


    Any merchant trading at the Silfrisarn fair is considered a traitor. All his goods and possession are to be confiscated, and his life is forfeit, Arndis exined without looking up.


    That sounds harsh, Eleanor considered. I suppose those are the times we live in. But why has it put you in such a state? You do not trade directly, but through others. Surely you cannot be held responsible?


    That is not my concern either. The reduced trade at the fair will have other consequences worth contemting. She located a number in a ledger and copied it onto a parchment with other scribbles on it.


    Such as?


    The price of tin will continue to fall, and the price of copper and iron will rise. Without bronze or steel, the price of many other goods will increase as well. Stone and marble will see little change, though, Arndis considered. She underlined a few numbers. Vidrevi was never a ce for building in stone.


    Does this affect you? I thought you simply gave your coin to traders, and they conduct the actual business.


    That is mostly the case, but I still decide in which sort of trade I set my coin to work, Arndis replied. She gave a frown. I wonder how long before it will be worthwhile to send a caravan to Herbergja and simply sail the goods to Trehaf.


    I take it you will not be joining us this afternoon, Eleanor remarked quietly.


    Arndis looked up briefly before resuming her work. I fear it is inopportune today.


    Herpanion gave a faint smile that went unseen. Of course. I understand.


    Forgive me. Another time.


    ~~~~


    The evening sun cast a warm glow into the library tower when Jorund entered, passing between the pair of kingthanes guarding the door. Inside, he found Kate and Inghard in conversation, discussing a story they had read.


    Well met, my younglings. Is ourpany a short man short? Jorund asked with a grin.


    Egils almost as tall as you, and hes still growing, Kate countered.


    Until he does outgrow me, I reserve the right to remark on his height orck thereof, the Dwarf dered. I have to make the most of the time left.


    Egil is in the scriptorium, the prince exined. He has been there all day, I believe.


    I know hes a scribe, but I didnt honestly think he ever scribed anything, Jorund contemted.


    Hes not writing, hes reading. But really old books, and he has maps out, Kate added. I asked if he wanted help, but he just mumbled something.


    Lets not disturb thed, then, Jorund considered. I wont be staying long, in any case.


    What? asked Kate, sounding disappointed.


    Me and some of the boys are going into town tonight, the Dwarf exined. Weve been on patrol for weeks, and by the gods, we deserve ale, proper food, and  politepany. He cleared his throat.


    You are leaving us alone? she continued.


    Theres three of you, youre not alone, Jorund countered. I spent all evening with you yesterday, the first evening I was back, I might add! Ill be back tomorrow  or the day after, depending on my consumption of brew.


    Let the man have his leisure, Inghard dered graciously. He has been hard at work defending us all.


    The Red Hawk gave a little bow and a grin. You are most magnanimous, my prince.


    I have an idea. The voice came from the door opening to the scriptorium and startled all three of them. They turned to find Egil. Its hard to be sure, but I think I am.


    Can you borate? asked Inghard.


    Something that was said to me. I asked someone if he could help Master Quill, and he said not even the heroes of old had such power, Egil began to exin. But how could he know? Maybe they did. There are strange things in the world we dont always understand or even know about.


    Kate sent him an apprehensive look. Egil, maybe youre tired. When was thest time you ate? I can get something from the kitchen for you.


    We all know the Song of Sigvard, and the old books has many other stories about that time. The Great War, the battle of Valmark where Sigvard ended the war, and so on, Egil continued. Ive been reading them all,paring with maps.


    Theres a glint of madness in your eye, boy, but Im too curious. What are you chasing? asked Jorund.


    All the stories agree that Sigvard ascended the Wyrmpeak, and there, he found a hidden power. It made him strong enough to turn the battle of Valmark. One man, winning a battle by himself!


    While I do enjoy tales of Sigvard, inserted the dragonborn Inghard, they are often merely that. Tales. One warrior cannot defeat an army by himself. He looked towards Jorund, the only warrior in theirpany.


    The prince is right, though I dont know. The dwarf rubbed his chin. In Thusund, we still tell the stories of the Great War, Eirik Wyrmbane, and Sigvard. Maybe its my inder blood, but I wouldnt be so quick to dismiss them.


    Dont encourage him, Kate admonished Jorund.


    Regardless of veracity, what does it matter now? asked Inghard. Sigvard is gone, as are all the other heroes.


    But Wyrmpeak is not, Egil countered.


    Its a mountain, Jorundughed. They tend to stay in ce.


    My point is, the young scribe continued agitated, what if its still there?


    What if what is? asked Kate.


    What Sigvard found! The power that made him a hero! Egil stared at them triumphantly.


    Egil, it has been almost eleven hundred years since the battle of Valmark, Inghard pointed out gently.


    So? Something like that doesnt decay.


    How do you know? asked Inghard. You do not even know what it is. Even assuming the legends are true, it could be anything. Most likely, it would have been long gone.


    He has a point, Jorund assented. I always thought it was a sword or something that Sigvard brought with him from the mountain.


    But something like that would have be an heirloom, Egil countered. The Dragon Crown was worn by Sigvard, for instance. But we have nothing else of his.


    Egil, what exactly are you hoping?


    He looked at them, standing in his brown robe that he had nearly outgrown. Nobody can help Master Quill. Nobody knows what to do. This is the only thing I can think of. Do you want me to just sit and wait while he gets worse and worse?


    You can providefort for him, Jorund suggested gently.


    Hes lying in bed all day, he couldnt be morefortable if I tried! Egils outburst left him taking deep breaths. Look, Im not asking anything of you. I think Ive uncovered enough clues to follow in Sigvards footsteps. Just take care of Master Quill and the library while Im gone. He looked at Kate.


    She in turn red back. You cant be serious. Youre going to trample up a mountain looking for something you dont even know what is!


    I have seen strange things already, Egil countered. In Hthiod, in the  Alfskog, he muttered. I dont care if you think its a bad idea. Im going.


    Kate turned towards Inghard. You canmand him to stay. Tell him hes being foolish!


    Marching up the Wyrmpeak is a harsh journey, even in summer, the prince considered, speaking slowly. You should bring Jorund. Hes an experienced traveller.


    What? eximed the mercenary.


    I am sure your lieutenant will grant me your services for a week or two. I doubt he wishes to refuse the heir to the realms, Inghard pointed out with a sly look.


    Youre going to encourage this? Kates voice overflowed with disbelief.


    I do not believe Egil will find anything. Except maybe peace of mind that he has done everything he can for his master. Seeing as one day I will be king, and he will be my Quill, I find that a worthwhile goal, Inghard exined. I will be happy to arrange for Jorund to apany you. Any other resources you might need?


    I dont think so, Egil replied. Ill get provisions from the kitchens.


    Look, at least postpone until the day after tomorrow, Jorund pleaded. Just let me have this evening back in town, and tomorrow for sleeping it off.


    I see no reason we cannot dy that long, Inghard granted.


    Kate let her re move between them. Well, Iming to.


    You have to stay and look after Master Quill, Egil protested.


    Oh no, if you can leave him, so can I! You have a habit of trying to sneak away to go on adventures, and Im not going to be left behind! Ill have the kitchen girls take care of him and make sure he gets his meals.


    Inghard rose from the bench where he had been seated, ncing at the mercenary, the scribe, and the kitchen girl. It sounds like the expedition is well in hand. I have the utmost faith that if any trace of Sigvard remains upon Wyrmpeak, you will find it. As your prince, I bless your endeavour.


    I better get paid for every day Im gone, Jorund muttered with a surly expression

 Chapter 150: A Beacon in the Dark

    Chapter 150: A Beacon in the Dark


    The second morrow after the decision had been made, the small expedition left the Citadel. Despite his day of recovery, Jorund grumbled at the early hour and exertion, but his words held little sting. He wore a great pack on his back, easily carrying twice as much as his youngpanions tallied together. They seemed mute in demeanour and made no replies to Jorunds remarks. By the time they had traversed the Arnsweg, he lost interest in conversation himself, and they passed through Saltgate in silence to leave Middanhal behind.


    Once outside the city, they followed the walls to walk east. Hours after leaving the Citadel, they reached where the fortifications met the mountain of Wyrmpeak. The cliffs rose sharply to their left, proving impassable and protecting Middanhal from all attacks. The small band continued along the mountainside, entering the wild. As they progressed, they found neither roads nor people. Thend was harsh in the foothills of Wyrmpeak; nothing grew except stubbles of grass, which fed only the asional mountain goat.


    They continued for the remainder of the day in the same direction, traversing the rough terrain. When night approached, they made camp nestled between hills, keeping them out of sight. The weather was warm and dry, allowing them rest in the open without need of a fire. With few words exchanged, they went to sleep.


    ~~~~


    The following day, Egil set a course north-east. Its time we walk up the actual mountain, he informed the others.


    How do you know we should climb the mountain from the south and not the north? asked Kate. How can you be sure its this way?


    The battle of Valmark was fought defending the Mihtea, meaning the enemy was camped south of the river. Sigvard had to pass through the enemy camp before he could scale the Wyrmpeak, so he must have approached it from the south, Egil exined.


    Assuming we can trust people long dead, Kate remarked curtly. Not to mention, who knows how thend has changed since then?


    The mountain and the river wont have changed, argued Egil. I see no reason we cant trust them.


    Were wasting the day, Jorund told them brusquely, swinging his pack into its ce. Thed says this way, thats where we go. Get to it!


    Spurred on, the group began the days journey. Slowly, thendscape changed as they moved from hill to mountain. The Wyrmpeak loomed ahead and above them, snow-capped even in the heat of summer. The path, such as it was, grew ever steeper, and the sun beat down upon them. They stopped to catch their breath quite often; on asion, they woulde across a stream of meltwater, giving them an excuse to rest, drink, and refill their skins.


    At one such asion, Kate returned to the topic of their course. How far up the mountain are we going? We dont have enough food to search everywhere.


    Legend says Sigvard entered a deep cave. He overcame some sort of guardian and took the power that made him a hero, Egil exined.


    A guardian? interjected Jorund. st you, boy, you didnt tell me thered be fighting! I only got this leather jerkin for protection! He thumped against his chest.


    It was in by Sigvard, presumably. I dont expect well encounter anything.


    If we do, you children turn back, and you run and keep running, Jorund growled. Ill catch up with you. Dont either of you dare do anything stupid and get in my way. He let his hand touch the pommel of his short sword.


    So were looking for a cave? Kate asked. I suppose thats a start.


    I dont intend for us to walk around blindly, Egil told them. Well get help.


    From who?


    Egil looked up the mountainside. From the keeper of the beacon.


    Well, we wont get to them sitting here all day, Jorund pointed out. Lets go!


    ~~~~


    In spite of Jorund driving them forward, their progress remained slow. They attempted to follow the brooks upstream, ensuring their supply of water, but the rocky terrain often made this untenable, forcing them to move right and left rather than forward. They made camp a second night once it grew too dark to continue; next day, they continued anew.


    In the afternoon, their surroundings changed again. They had reached a teau of sorts, allowing for easier march; the soil was gentler, and soft grass grew. Eventually, the travellers saw sheep in the distance and steered towards them.


    They were greeted by arge shepherding dog, barking from excitement. Kate and Egil stopped in their tracks, but Jorund stepped forward and let the beast smell him; a momentter, it was happy to let the Dwarf pet him.


    The shepherd came soon after; it was a girl of twelve years at most. Ive never seen travellers up here before, she remarked.


    I dont imagine well make a habit of it either, Jorund grinned. Gods peace to you. I am Jorund, and mypanions are Kate and Egil.


    Gods peace to you, the shepherd replied. Im Wilhelmina, but thats a bit of a mouthful, so my pa and ma and others just call me Mina.


    Could you point us in the direction of your home? Wed like to speak with your father, Egil told her.


    We live that way, she replied, pointing east. You cant miss it. Theres no other buildings.


    Hes the beacon keeper, yes? Egil continued.


    Aye, that he is. This is ournd, Mina said proudly. Because we keep the beacon. Maybe one day Ill be beacon keeper after my pa.


    We thank you, Jorund said. Come, lets see what this keeper has to say.


    Farewell, Mina! Kate waved to her, and the three set off.


    ~~~~


    As the girl had promised, they easily spotted a cottage with a lean-to on one side. A man and a young boy were weeding in the vegetable garden while a woman skirted wool. From a distance, Jorund raised one hand to wave, put it down, and did the same with the other, thereby showing them both to be empty.


    Well met, good people, the Dwarf said in a convivial tone. Your daughter was kind enough to point us in your direction.


    Well met, said the man of the household, leaning on his rake. Its only been two summers since west had visitors. This ce is starting to get overrun, he remarked with a glint in his eyes.


    Hush, you old codger, his wife reprimanded him, standing up while dusting off her hands. Youre wee here, she told the travellers. Dont mind my husband. He fancies himself a wit.


    Perhaps your husband will indulge us in conversation, and hell have the chance to impress us, Jorund grinned. You are the keeper of the beacon, I take it?


    Aye, that I am. You came all this way just to see it? The peasant nodded behind him. I dont mind showing you, but its just a pile of wood.


    Ah, it is not the true intent of our journey, good master. We could simply use some knowledge of the area, and we figured thered have to be a keeper nearby, Jorund exined.


    Aye, you guessed right. Whats your need?


    My young friends work for the royal library, The Dwarf continued. They found mention of old artefacts in on Wyrmpeak, naught of interest save for schrs. At the behest of the Kings Quill, were looking to salvage any that we can find.


    The Kings Quill? The farmer widened his eyes. Ill say. I fear he may have sent you nting seed for sheep! My family has lived here for generations, and we never find anything but thistles.


    But weremon folk, Wilhelm, and its not like we go looking or ever put the soil under plough to turn things up, his wife interjected. Im sure the Kings Quill knows his business better than us.


    Fair word, replied the husband. I dont see how we can be of any help to you good people, though.


    Our sources tell us that were looking for caves, Egil told them. Caverns, really. Do you know of any?


    The farmer and his wife looked at each other. Theres one in that direction. He pointed east. Id be careful though. Theres a bear in those parts, and I reckon it uses the cave for its den.


    What about west? Across any streams of water? Egil enquired.


    The others frowned. Theres caves north-west, said the woman. You told Oswald about finding them as a child, remember? And he went searching for them himself that whole afternoon once.


    Seven and Eighth, I forgot, the man eximed. You gave him such a scolding for skulking off, the boy still has nightmares, I bet! Thats many miles north-west. I couldnt rightly tell you.


    Are they on the other side of the river?


    The farmer frowned again. Theres lots of brooks here in summer. Youre talking about the Mihtea? I dont rightly know if any of those streams is the river or not.


    Youve been of great help regardless, Jorund told him. At least we have a direction now. He looked at Egil. Anything else we need to ask of these good people?


    Egil shook his head.


    Youll stay for supper, wont you? asked the woman quickly. You wont get far tonight before its dark. We dont get many visitors, but were good hosts when the need be.


    A proper meal would make a nice change from the food we brought, Kate pointed out. Jorund looked at Egil, who shrugged.


    Why not? Those caves arent going anywhere, the Dwarf said with a smile. Wed be grateful for your hospitality.


    Youre in luck. Wilhelm smiled. I got some salted pork when I was in Middanhal for solstice.


    Youre too kind, Jorund told them.


    Any excuse not to eat mutton, said the wife. The old sheep had amb, bring out the pork! Weve harvested all the cabbages, lets have some pork! Theres a nice breeze today, you guessed it


    Pork! eximed Kate.


    Hilda grumbles, but she always fetches it, Wilhelmughed.


    Have it your way, his wife conceded. I better get started. We should have some barley flour left, and Osmund can pick some thyme for the meat. The wool will have to wait until tomorrow. She turned around to enter the cottage, followed by her little son, who had been quiet throughout the entire exchange.


    Ill give you a hand, Kate dered, following after the wife.


    We cant stand here with idle hands, Jorund told Egil, and he sat down next to the bowl of wool, resuming Hildas work. Egil did the same.


    Thats mighty kind of you, Wilhelm told them, resuming his work weeding the vegetable garden.


    You mentioned Middanhal, Master Wilhelm, Jorund continued. Have you made many travels?


    Hah! I was born in this homestead, and Ive never gone further than Middanhal. That citys so big, it satisfies all Im curious about! My eldest, Oswald, on the other hand, he was never one to settle here. He took the white star as soon as he was twenty-one.


    Thats good work, keeping the kings peace, Jorund replied. Myself, I was the same. Soon as I was old enough to set foot on a ship, I sailed away. I could tell you many stories, if youd want?


    Nothing better to while away the time while working, the farmer said, to which the Dwarf gave a grin.


    ~~~~


    As the sun began to sink behind the western cliffs, the teau was plunged into twilight, and Mina returned with the sheep from grazing. Her dog herded the animals into their pen while she greeted her father, who patted her on the head. The wool had been cleaned, the weeds removed, and supper prepared inside the cottage.


    Like the homes of any vige, the small house had a single room under its thatched roof. A firece in the middle provided heat for cooking. In winter, it might burn through the night to keep the cold at bay; tonight, such was not necessary, and the embers were covered by the ashes.


    Stew was poured into wooden bowls from a cauldron standing in the firece. Pieces of meat mixed with beets, carrots, other vegetables, and the asional herb for vour. Once all six had a full bowl, Wilhelm broke a piece of bread for himself and passed the rest on.


    Fit for a king, Jorund dered, dipping his bread into the stew. I should know  I have dined with several.


    Your words have more honey than this pork has salt! Wilhelmughed.


    Guilty, he replied, stuffing his mouth. Tell us of your son. Wheres his posting?


    Oswald was at the siege of Grenwold, Hilda exined, but hes been pulled back to Middanhal. I know its not a good sign for the war, their retreat and all, but it was good to see him at solstice.


    Aye, Wilhelm nodded. Id rather the high lords let their mercenaries do all the fighting, spare my boy the danger. If someone has to die, let it be the foreigners. Egil gave a cough.


    As it stands, nobody is dying at the moment, Jorund said cidly. Lets hope it continues.


    Gods willing, it will. Are you a soldier, Master Jorund? I couldnt help but notice your sword, Hilda pointed out.


    I am, good mistress. Not much use digging through scrolls and books, but I can keep these two safe. The Dwarf tussled the hair of hispanions on either side of him. Egil pulled his head away, while Kate did not seem to notice; she was engrossed in conversation with Mina while feeding bits of bread to the sheepdog.


    If you know these things, can you tell us how long the war might go on? asked Hilda. Id dearly like to know how long my boy has to fight.


    As it currently stands, it could drag on for years, Jorund admitted. But neither side is eager to fight. For the time being, your son is as safe as any Order soldier can be.


    Besides, Wilhelm interjected, if the war ends, Oswald will probably be sent to Hthiod, which would be much worse. Our boy fighting savage ounders, can you imagine! His wife shuddered in response.


    Why do you have an earring? asked the small boy seated between his parents suddenly.


    Osmund, thats not polite, his mother reproached him.


    I take no offence, Jorund told them. He touched the golden ring in his ear; it was the most obvious sign of his Dwarven nature along with his skin, dark in colour with dyed runes upon it. Its custom among my people, especially those of us that travel far, to carry such a ring. Should I die in distantnds, it will pay for my funeral. The little boy stared with open mouth.


    Thats bleak, Wilhelm remarked, but I suppose if youre leaving home and hearth, you best make preparations. Its a dangerous world out there.


    It is indeed, Jorund assented, tapping the scar where his left ear had once been.


    What happened? asked the little boy.


    Osmund! his mother scolded him.


    I think your own ears are a little too young for that tale, Jorund told him with a wink. But I know a fanciful tale told in Alczar, involving a master thief and an emerald ne. Finished with their meal, the small family along with Egil and Kate settled in to hear the story.


    ~~~~


    When daybreak came, the wanderers packed their bags. Hilda gave them some bread and dried fruit to take along; in exchange, they promised to stop by on their way back to Middanhal. Mina, her dog, and the sheep followed them some of the way west until the herd reached its pasture; with a final wave, they parted ways, and the small group headed north.


    They left the green teau, moving into rocky terrain once more. Wildlife grew scarce; on asion, an eagle might soar above them, flying to or from its nest higher up. They set their course not ording to sight, but sound. In the distance, a rumbling could be heard; they followed the stony path only tread by goats, drawing closer towards the distant thunder.


    Hourster, they reached the origin of the noise. Ahead of them, meltwater flowed swiftly. This was the source of the Mihtea, the mighty river that crossed through Middanhal. If they were to follow it downstream, they would reach the edge of the cliffs and the waterfall that marked the rivers entry into the city.


    This is it, Egil dered, almost shouting. While they could not see it, the noise of the waterfall reached them even this far away. This must be the waters that Sigvard crossed. We have to do the same. They stared, some with dismay, at the daunting challenge ahead of them.

 Chapter 151: The Crossing

    Chapter 151: The Crossing


    The Mihtea roared past them, strengthened by all the waters of the mountains summit melted by summer sun. It was some hundred feet from bank to bank in this particr ce, and it flowed with a swift current.


    Can either of you swim? asked Jorund. Both hispanions shook their heads. Couple ofnd-legs, he muttered. Well need to find somewhere to ford it. Either of you, find me a long stick. While they did as bid, he began removing his pack and some of his clothes until he was shirtless. Kate returned with the desired object, giving him a long, twisted branch. With an approving grunt, Jorund epted the stick and began testing the river bottom.


    He stuck the branch down, prodding the ground underneath the water while moving along the bank. Finally, he took a step into the river, nting one boot on the bottom, followed by the other. Using the branch to measure the depth ahead of him, he took a few more steps. Its getting deeper, he remarked, turning back. And the current is swift. He walked back onnd, shaking his feet. Lets move upstream. I can see a bend up there. He pointed in the aforementioned direction. The current will be slower. He picked up his pack and clothes, starting to walk. Deferring to his wisdom, Kate and Egil fell into ce behind him.


    ~~~~


    It took them half an hour to reach the bend. The river was wider, but as Jorund predicted, it flowed with less force. Putting down his pack, he set to work again, stabbing his branch into the river bottom.


    Youre sure we have to cross? Kate asked Egil while staring at the water.


    Two different books mentioned it. Im sure.


    Very well. The look on her face gainsaid her eptance.


    There may be a way here, Jorund shouted over his shoulder. He kept his cautious crawl forward for a good while until he was half across the river; the waters reached to his chest. Satisfied, he returned to hispanions. Lets give it a try. Let me have my pack, he told Egil, extending a hand. The boy picked it up with some difficulty, using both hands, and Jorund grabbed it from him, slinging it onto his back. You both stay here, the Dwarf told them upon seeing Kate stepping towards the bank. Ill go across first. If its fine, Ille back and bring each of you across, one at a time.


    Thats going to take ages, Egilined.


    You have a lot of opinions on crossing rivers for someone who cant swim, Jorund remarked dryly, and the boy shut up.


    We trust your decision, Kate said pointedly. Meanwhile, Jorund turned around and walked back into the river.


    He walked with careful steps as before, even the first part that he had already traversed. In the middle, his pace slowed further; he spent a good while examining the ground with his branch, stomping it down as hard as he could through the water. Only when he was fully satisfied did he take the next, tentative step, starting the process anew.


    At length, he reached the other bank and could throw his pack onto drynd. Taking a deep breath, Jorund turned around and began the crossing again. With the slowest of steps, he made his way back towards Kate and an impatient looking Egil.


    Stepping onto the bank next to the others, Jorund looked at them. Which one first?


    Let me, Kate said. It wont hurt Egil to wait a moment longer.


    Fine.


    Listen both of you, Jorund told them with a sharp voice. You grab hold of my shoulders, you hold on fast no matter what, and take each step as I take them. Understood?


    Yes, they both replied.


    Good. Kate, lets go. Tread where I tread. Jorund descended into the river once more, making room for Kate to fall into ce behind him. Once she was in the water as well, she ced her hands on his bare shoulders; thanks to his short stature, she did not have to raise her hands much.


    They began their cautious crossing; for each step, Jorund nted his stick into the ground, lending him support against the swift current. They reached the deepest part of the river; the water rose to Kates neck. You in good order? Jorund asked loudly over the sound of the rushing waters.


    All well, Kate shouted back, squeezing his shoulders. As he continued on, she raised her chin and followed. Eventually, the ground inclined upwards, the water fell, and the current became less fierce; gasping for breath, Kate could step onto the bank. Jorund did not waste time but turned back, making the crossing once more.


    Ready? the Dwarf asked. Despite the heavy exertion, he did not seem weary nor cold from having walked through the river several times.


    Been ready for a while, Egil replied.


    Hold onto my shoulders, Jorund instructed him.


    I got it. I saw you cross with Kate.


    Very well. Lets go. Jorund turned around yet again, stomping his twisted walking staff into the ground. Behind him, Egil entered the river. A violent shiver went through the boy as the cold waters surrounded and soaked him to his waist.


    Lets hurry, Egil urged.


    Not a chance, Jorund dismissed him.


    Its freezing cold, the young scribeined. In his eagerness, he pped his foot into Jorunds leg, having moved too soon.


    Its summer,d, youll live! Now eyes down, step when I step, and not before!


    Egil grumbled at the admonition but did not reply. They continued the crossing, and the water slowly rose up their bodies. The boys hands shook with cold as he held onto Jorunds shoulders, and his teeth chattered.


    Everything well? asked Jorund.


    Fine, Egil said, just as he hit his foot against Jorund once again. Thrown off bnce, the Dwarf struggled to gain a foothold, as did Egil; the former seeded, thetter did not. With a yell, Egils hands were torn from Jorund, and the current swept him to the side.


    The boy iled his arms to little effect; the coursing river pulled him along with ease. On the bank, Kate screamed and ran downstream. Jorund, born on the inds of Thusund, dove into the waters. Rather than pursue Egil, he swam directly south towards the bend in the river. This let him reach the bank, climb up, and race across the terrain to the other side of the bend, and without hesitation, he jumped in.


    Egil had also made the bend, courtesy of the current. His body was dragged over several rocks that rose from the river bottom, twisting him around and forcing his head under water. He tried to kick his legs, but his wet robe clung heavy to him, hindering movement. Water entered his mouth, and his attempts to spit it out only invited more. His arms ceased their iling; his body became limp. On the bank, Kate screamed, but her words drowned in the thundering from the waterfall several miles south.


    With a powerful motion, a hand shot through the water and seized the boy by the cor. Moving like an eel, Jorund had caught up with him and now dragged his head up in the air. With a p to the face, he roused Egil, and the boy immediately began waving his arms and kicking his legs. Another p left him with shock on his face, and his frantic motions stopped. With one arm safely around the boy, Jorund kicked his legs to push them both towards the bank. Momentster, he flung Egil onto drynd, climbing after him.


    ~~~~


    The boy coughed repeatedly, spewing out gulps of water. Reaching them, Kate bent down to p him on the back. Jorund wiped the water from his face and beard, blinking. Got all your arms and legs, boy?


    Egil attempted to reply, but only water issued from his mouth. Hes hurt, Kate replied on his behalf, pointing at his legs. The robe was torn in a few ces, revealing gashes underneath.


    Im fine, Egil finally managed to gasp. It doesnt hurt. Much, anyway.


    Jorund got up and moved north-east along the river, while Kate pped Egil on the shoulder. You bloody fool!


    Ow! Dont you think Im hurting enough?


    You deserve worse! You could have drowned!


    I know that! Why does that make you mad? Egil rubbed his shoulder.


    Because its your own damn fault! You couldnt be patient for half an hour and make the crossing safely, Kate seethed. You risked both your lives!


    I lost my footing, Egil defended himself. Its water, its slippery. It could have happened to any of us.


    But it happened to you because you cant wait to pursue this fools errand. As if an extra hour or two would make any difference.


    Its not a fools errand, Egil mumbled. Besides, I didnt slip because I was impatient.


    Is that so? Kate all but sneered at him.


    Im afraid of water.


    Youre  what? Youve never said anything like that before. Kate looked at him with usation in her eyes.


    Its hardly something to brag about, is it? Egil retorted. I dont like water. For good reason, I might add! To Hel with this river.


    I didnt know.


    I wasnt impatient to continue our journey, he muttered. I just wanted this crossing over with.


    Jorund returned with his pack, dropping it to the floor. Right, lets take a look. He bent down to examine Egils scratches and wounds, prodding them with a finger.


    Ow, again! Careful!


    Well, it doesnt feel broken. You dont sound like you have a broken leg either, Jorund remarked with a wry look. Normally, Id tear your ear off for not listening, but I imagine youve had enough of a fright to learn your lesson.


    Definitely. Only cross rivers on a bridge, Egil grumbled.


    We need to take care of that, though. Jorund pointed at the boys superficial injuries. Limp over to the water and stick your leg in. Get it cleaned. Kate, make sure he doesnt fall back in.


    Egil attempted a vague objection, but Jorund had already turned around towards his pack. With Kates help, he hopped over to the bank. Suppressing the look of anxiety that overcame him, he extended his leg down into the water; he gasped at the cold sensation, while Kate knelt down to grab a tight hold of him.


    That should be fine, Jorund said a short while after. Up again,d, and let me ply the physicians trade.


    Egil did asmanded; turning away from the river, he saw what Jorund had dug out from his belongings. You brought bandages?


    Of course, the Dwarf replied brusquely. Im not somendlocked boy whose never felt the spray of saltwater! Ie prepared. He opened a small jar, applying a salve to Egils gashes, and followed up with a tight bandage. There! First time I had to do this, me and theds were on the run after a skirmish gone bad outside the city of Surru. I dare say Ive gotten better.


    Thanks, Egil mumbled. He got on his feet, cautiously putting weight on the hurt leg.


    Youll have to mend your clothes yourself, Jorund told him, packing his items away. Ill lend you needle and thread, but the work is yours. You both should get out of your wet clothes, he told them, walking back towards the original crossing point where Kates bag remained.


    The children followed him, one moving with more difficulty than the other. Once upstream, Egil removed his robe and sat down, rubbing his leg. Dont touch it, Kate admonished him.


    It itches, he mumbled.


    You knew all this time wed have to cross a river like this, she said, abruptly changing topic. Why did you ever think this was a good idea?


    I didnt, Egil said in defence. But I also didnt know what else to do. Master Quill is sick. I couldnt get him out of prison, but I wont fail him again.


    But you did get him out, Kate pointed out. You got him released.


    The prince did, not me. Egil tugged on his robe as ity on the ground, slowly drying in the sun. He gave me a trade, a home. If all the knowledge in the library cant help him, what use is it?


    I dont know about books, but nobody would ever deny the usefulness of a needle, Jorund inserted, handing over said tool along with thread to Egil. Mend your robe, boy, while youre sitting down anyway. The Dwarf pulled out his short sword and stabbed it into the soil. Loosening the dirt, he used his hands to dig a hole.


    What are you doing? asked Kate.


    Making a mark that the crossing is here. Well need to go back the same way on the return journey.


    Gods above, Egil uttered.


    Less talking, more sewing. Weve already wasted half a day at this sted river.


    We need some time for our clothes to dry, Kate argued. Besides, what are you so impatient for? You barely know Master Quill.


    Jorund mumbled something in reply.


    What?


    Im not being paid by the day, the Dwarf grumbled. That miserly quartermaster would only pay the same coin, whether our little trip takes a week or a month.


    At least youre getting paid, Kate told him.


    I hope so! Jorund eximed. The old bastard certainly wasnt happy to promise me anything. Just because I got a hawk and not a star on my chest, he doesnt feel Im trustworthy!


    He wanted Order soldiers to apany us? asked Egil, sending needle through cloth.


    Damn right he did. He didnt think the Quills apprentice should be left in the hands of a mere mercenary, Jorund exined, sneering thest words. The prince had to write a letter to convince the old curmudgeon he ought to pay me! He still had the nerve to inform me that payment would only be issued if the Quills apprentice dered his satisfaction with my services. The Dwarf spat into the ground.


    So, Egil considered, youre saying that you wont get paid until Im satisfied? No matter how many days we spend up here, you have to stay if you want your coin?


    Jorund nced away. I just remembered why I didnt tell you.


    Kate in turn sent the Dwarf a look. Well done, Master Jorund. Well never get off this bloody mountain.


    Next to them, Egil finished mending his robe with a smile.


    ~~~~


    Eventually they continued their journey, following the vague directions given them by Wilhelm. Using the river to maintain their bearings, the travellers began traversing thendscape. Wyrmpeak itself was directly north; the area around them rose and fell, hindering their sight. They walked for hours in a particr direction, keeping their eyes open for any signs of caves or openings into the mountain; eventually, Jorund would set a course leading them back to the river. In this manner, theybed the area for days.


    How much food do we have left? asked Kate on the morning of the third day after their crossing.


    We should have for three or four days, Jorund replied. If Egil can keep his appetite in check.


    Im of growing age, the boy protested. Cant we look around for food?


    Jorund demonstratively let his gaze sweep over the rocky terrain. Be my guest,d.


    I dont know what to look for, Egil admitted meekly. But there must be something.


    Theres only this sorry excuse for grass. The Dwarf kicked the brown stubbles on the ground. Theres goats and birds, but we got no weapons for hunting. You could look for eggs, I suppose, if you fancy climbing the peak while fighting off the eagles as you plunder their nests.


    Egil looked up at the imposing summit in front of them. Fine. We can go back to Wilhelm and Hilda. Theyll not begrudge us a few days provisions.


    Perhaps not, but their life is harsh enough as it is. We shouldnt impose, Jorund dered.


    You just want to get back to Middanhal and your payment, Egil retorted.


    We have to cross the river to go back to Wilhelm and Hilda for more food, only to cross it yet again to return here and continue, Kate pointed out. Do you really want to keep doing that?


    Lets just keep our eyes open, Egil mumbled. Maybe smaller birds have nests here too.


    Jorund pped the boys back. Thats what I like about you,d. You always hope for the best, not caring how foolish it is. He slung his pack onto his back. Lets be off.


    They set out, following the same pattern as before. They walked nearly half a day northwards, following the terrain and exploring any hopeful possibilities of caverns hiding nearby. During the afternoon, Jorund led them east and finally south, finishing their search of the area. As darkness fell, they reached the Mihtea and made camp, drinking greedily from its waters. With few words exchanged, they ate their meagre provisions and sought rest.


    ~~~~


    We got food for another two days of searching, Jorund dered as they woke the next morning. These caves were looking for, I dont think theyre close by. Wed have seen them. We need to widen our search.


    What do you suggest? Egil asked.


    Either we follow the river and search the way we have so far. The Dwarf pointed in that direction. Or we go further north or further west than we have the other days. His finger flew around the air.


    Which way is best? the boy continued.


    I cant say,d, this isnt my expedition. Dont your books say anything?


    They only mention that Sigvard followed the Wayfarer, crossing the river. But I dont know if it means he went that way until he reached the Mihtea, or after.


    The Wayfarer points in that direction, Kate interjected. She gestured towards the peak of the mountain. I noticed itst night.


    The choice is yours, boy. You have two days left.


    Egil swallowed, staring north. With the sun rising in the east, any stars were gone by now, including the Wayfarer. Only the Wyrmpeak itself met his gaze, rising indomitably against the horizon. Well go north.


    North it is. With the summit as their own wayfarer, they set out.


    The entire day passed with little conversation, except to discuss the terrain. They strayed from their course to investigate rocks and cliffs on asion, but never with any luck; the mountain stood sealed before them. When night arrived, so did rain, joining the harsh winds that blew at these heights. They ate their meagre supper while huddling together under a small, solitary tree.


    Keep your eyes and ears open for signs of water tomorrow, Jorund told them. Well need to find more before we return to the river.


    Egil held out his hand, catching raindrops. I found some.


    Jorund snorted. Hows your leg?


    It doesnt hurt.


    Lets put a new bandage on, just in case. Kate, hold my cloak over us to give some shelter. She did as bid while Egil pulled his clothes away and Jorund rummaged around for a new bandage.


    Egil, Kate said apprehensively, you know well have to turn back tomorrow, right?


    I know.


    We just dont have more food.


    Yes, Im aware.


    Very well. I just wanted to be sure we all agreed.


    Well simply have to find the cave tomorrow, Egil dered.


    Jorund finished wrapping the cloth around the boys leg, throwing the used bandage away. I cant argue with that. Lets sleep.


    ~~~~


    They woke to find the drizzle of rain had either continued through the night or else begun anew. Regardless, the result was the same, and they chewed through bits of bread and meat while holding their cloaks up as shields against the rain.


    Right, Jorund began to say. Ive been thinking about our rations. We can either spend the whole day going north, after which well have to return in a straight line back to Wilhelm and Hilda, and even then itll be with starving bellies.


    Or?


    Or we spend half a day going north, make a turn, and explore some of the area west or east. By staying closer to the river and eating less, we might be able to stretch our food another day.


    Eat less? Kate winced. Im already starving from sunup to sundown!


    Master Egil? Youre the helmsman on this trip.


    The youth looked from Dwarf to kitchen girl. Well keep straight north. Follow the Wayfarer.


    Jorund nodded. Very well. Lets get going.


    Thend sloped upwards in their chosen direction; the Wyrmpeak still loomed above them, casting long shadows westwards. It had never been climbed to the top ording to the memories of Men; if any had tried, they had never returned. Far below the summit, the weary travellers continued.


    The hours crawled by; the terrain remained the same. The only change from thest few days was an increase in exertion, as they walked more uphill.


    Nightfall remained an hour away when they reached the top of a slope; thend moved down to form a small and shallow valley with Wyrmpeak itself on the other side. I see water, Kate eximed, pointing ahead. A brook rippled through at the bottom of the valley, working its way west.


    Good eye, Jorund told her. Lets get some drink in our skins.


    They moved with renewed speed, walking downhill. Twilight appeared to surround them with each step they took down the valley; one by one, the stars blinked into sight above their heads. Theres the Crown, Kate exined, pointing at a constetion above them. That was the first one Master Quill taught me to spot.


    Are you sure? It doesnt look like it, Egil argued.


    Thats because one of its stars appearster than the rest, Kate exined with a superior smile. You can see one is missing. Its not as bright as the others, so we wont see it until its proper dark.


    That wont be long now, Jorund muttered. Hurry up, you two! Eyes on the ground, not the sky. Realising that their stargazing made them fall behind, Kate and Egil hurried to catch up to Jorund.


    Despite setting a quick pace, darkness arrived in the valley before they did. How far are we from the brook? asked Kate. Im so thirsty!


    Impossible to tell, Jorund grunted. I can barely see ten paces ahead of me.


    Thend barely slopes, Egil pointed out. We have reached the bottom of the valley. The brook must be just ahead of us.


    Sure, but how far ahead? Ten steps or a hundred? Jorund stopped abruptly. Its getting foolhardy to continue. Before we know it, well stumble headfirst into the water, and I cant pull yound-legs ashore if I cant see you.


    Itll be fine, Egil imed. Well hear the stream before that happens. Lets just keep going.


    Jorunds right, Kate chimed in. Theres no point in continuing. Its too dark to see anything.


    Just a little longer, Egil urged. The moon will provide light.


    They looked up at the clouded night sky. We should make camp here, Jorund dered. Well find the brook tomorrow morning and fill our skins for the journey back.


    We cant go back yet, Egil insisted. Were close to the actual Wyrmpeak. We should cross the brook tomorrow and search the northern side of the valley!


    Unless youre a goat that can eat brown grass, weve got to turn back, Jorund reminded him. We cant go on.


    We can! You wont get paid unless Im satisfied with your service!


    Jorund snorted. If the other choice is starvation, Ill forego the coin. Calm yourself,d. You knew this woulde.


    You said Im the helmsman! I set the course!


    And Im charged with seeing you both return home safely. I wont have it on me that I let the Quills apprentice starve to death on the bloody Wyrmpeak a stones throw from Middanhal! He raised his hand as he saw Egil about to object. Enough! Make camp and rest. We have a long journey home. Scowling, Egil turned his back towards them and made his bed for the night.


    Im so thirsty, Kateined, unpacking her bedroll.


    You wont feel it once you sleep, Jorund told her, making his own preparations. Tomorrow, well fill our skins at the brook.


    I guess. Good night.


    Good night to both of you, Jorund replied.


    Egil did not.


    ~~~~


    The day was yet to break when Egil awoke; the clouds had gone from the sky, revealing half a moon shining down on his face. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for his water skin, turning it upside down only to find it empty. He pushed his cloak aside and stood up; nearby, he could hear Jorund snoring. With a nce upwards, he found the Wayfarer star, showing him north. Skin in hand, he walked in that direction with the asional yawn. Soon, the tranquil sounds of water rippling through the valley reached his ears, and he continued until the pale moonlight illuminated a brook before him.


    Bending down, he ked his thirst before filling his skin. As he stood up, he saw Wyrmpeak staring back at him. Above, the Wayfarer shone as it had done for Sigvard nearly eleven hundred years ago.


    Egil looked back; the darkness prevented him from seeing hispanions. Hesitantly, he set one foot into the brook. He touched the bottom easily; it only reached to his ankle. He took another step. The stream was only about ten feet or so; with a few more paces, he reached the other side.


    Once more, his eyes darted between the Wyrmpeak ahead and the darkness behind, where hispanions still slept. Indecision was written on his face, and he sat down by the bank, taking a hefty sip of water from his skin. He craned his neck to observe the stars above him, eventually lying down on his back to watch them. No matter where his gaze sought, it always returned to the Wayfarer; it was the centre around which the other stars moved.


    Hourster, he woke up abruptly; the sun shone on his face, as the moon had done earlier. His water skin fell to the ground; it had been lying on his stomach when he had fallen asleep. With a yawn, he stretched his shoulders and nced upwards again. The Wayfarer was gone; only Wyrmpeak remained, illuminated by the rising sun. Egil stood up, looking at the imposing mountain; his eyes widened, and the skin fell from his hand. He turned around, running south across the stream.


    ~~~~


    Wheres that boy run off to? asked Jorund with a frown.


    His water is gone. He probably went to get some, Kate considered, packing her bedroll away.


    It wouldnt have hurt him to fill ours as well, the Dwarf mumbled gruffly. I hope he isnt thinking of anything foolish, he added as an afterthought. I know he must be disappointed were turning back, but he cant honestly have expected wed find anything up here. I mean, finding one small cave on the biggest mountain in the world, heughed, wed need more luck than a eunuch among norns!


    He probably thought hed learned enough from the old books to retrace Sigvards steps.


    I suppose. The Dwarf shrugged.


    Whats a eunuch?


    Jorund cleared his throat. Never you mind. Pack your things. Ill go find the boy.


    That proved unnecessary as Egil came running towards them. I found it! he shouted; his wet robe clung to his ankles as he ran. I found the cave!


    The fates must be toying with me, Jorund grumbled. Where have you been, boy? Did you go wandering off alone?


    Just to the stream, Egil exined, closing the distance between them. On the far side, you can see a cave leading into Wyrmpeak.


    You didnt go in, did you? Jorund asked brusquely.


    Of course not, the boy replied, sounding offended. I came to get you as soon as I saw.


    It might not be a real cave, Kate pointed out. Just a trick of the eyes.


    Well. The Dwarf took a deep breath and hefted his pack with one hand. Only one way to find out.


    They followed Egil to the stream; words flowed from his mouth as swiftly as the water in the brook before them, exining his find, whereas hispanions were tight-lipped. I dont know how long I slept. When I woke  there! the young scribe eximed, interrupting himself and pointing forward.


    Jorund squinted. I suppose that could be a cave, but its an hour away or more.


    We have to investigate! Egil pleaded.


    We will, but dontin when your bellies are empty on the march home.


    Kate made a wincing sound, but Egil was already trotting through the brook with Jorund following. With an expression of defeat, she did as well.

 Chapter 152: The Might of Wyrmpeak

    Chapter 152: The Might of Wyrmpeak


    The cavey before them. The darkness inside prevented them from seeing its depth. From his pack, Jorund pulled out torch and tinderbox, lighting a me. Both of you stay behind me at all times, the Dwarf impressed upon hispanions. If wee across anything, anything at all, you both run like Hel is hunting you, and you dont stop. You keep running out of this valley and south. Understood? He stared at them with sharp eyes. They both nodded. Good. He turned towards the cave. I wont have it said that Jorund Seaborn couldnt keep two children safe, he mumbled. Raising his torch, he stepped forward, and the children followed.


    ~~~~


    Jorund in front, the travellers entered the cave. It seemed little more than a scratch into the mountain, being narrow as well. Over there! Egil eximed. At the back, the rocks split apart, allowing for an opening. With a deep breath, Jorund walked over. There was sufficient room for one person to walk at a time; the torch in his hand flickered, revealing flow of air.


    Lets go, the Dwarf muttered. His usual tone ofmand was gone; his expression seemed conflicted. In contrast, Egils eyes shone with excitement. Bringing up the rear, Kate walked with hesitation.


    Entering the natural corridor, they found the ground uneven. In the dark, it was easy to stumble, and their progress was slow. None of them spoke; the only sounds were their footsteps and breathing. Thissted for half an hour before Egil reached forward to grab Jorund by the arm. Look! he called out, pointing up.


    Jorund raised the torch, and its flickering light revealed deep cuts into the rock. Its a man, he mumbled.


    Its a warrior, Kate corrected. The carving showed a figure wearing a helmet, but nothing else. His arm was stretched out with his hand raised, showing a gesture of greeting or warning.


    Shouldnt he have weapons? asked Egil.


    He may not have needed it, Kate suggested.


    Unlike us, Jorund muttered; he switched the torch into his left hand, which kept his sword hand free.


    Wait, Egil uttered. Isnt the helmet strange? It has patterns and carvings.


    Egil, its all a carving.


    No, no, look! Imagine the helmet is metal. Those patterns are like waves. Its sea-steel! Hes not a warrior, hes a king wearing the Dragon Crown!


    Jorund squinted. Hamars skull, the boy may have a point.


    That proves it! Its Sigvard! Weve found it! Egil all but shouted.


    But when Sigvard came, that was before he was king. Before he wore the crown, Kate objected. Why would this show him as a king?


    Egil shrugged. Who knows? Maybe if we find more carvings, theyll tell the full story.


    Lets be mindful of what else we might find, Jorund growled. We should continue. We dont have the food to stand around all day. He began walking again, and hispanions hurried after him. All short of stature, none of them noticed the other carving high above their heads, opposite the crowned figure.


    ~~~~


    Their journey into the mountain continued for hours before the narrow corridor finally expanded into a great cavern. It was impossible to determine the size; the torch struggled to illuminate more than a few feet away. You think there are more carvings? asked Egil. He was standing by the cave wall, running his hands over the rock.


    It could take days to find out, Jorund said. Days we dont have.


    This ce looks empty, Kate considered. If this was where Sigvard came, whatever he found in here, I think he left with it.


    Its too soon to know that, Egil replied curtly. We need to look more. If we find more carvings, thatll tell us which direction to go.


    Dont split up, Jorund warned them. If either of you gets lost in this ce, youll never find the way out.


    Do you hear the wind? asked Kate. I can hear a strong breeze, but I dont feel it.


    Odd, but it would suggest there are more caves. Maybe this goes all through the mountain, and welle out the other side, Egil spected.


    Possible, but irrelevant, Jorund argued. Thats not what we came to find.


    And what search, pray tell, has led you here? The three travellers stared at each other. None of them had spoken. Their eyes widened, their mouths opened, their breathing stalled. The voice sounded deep, as if the mountain itself had spoken to them. Perhaps we should have more light. Conversation is easier when you can look into the eyes of those with whom you speak, would you not agree? Master Stoneman holding the torch, if my senses do not betray me, I would ask you to move towards the centre of this cavern. You shall find ample firewood left by my previous visitors that you may set ame.


    The torch was able to illuminate the dumbfounded look on Jorunds face as he followed the instructions; his right hand fumbled for the hilt of his short sword meanwhile. He walked fifty paces towards the middle of the cavern; all that time, there was no sound except his footsteps. Behind him, darkness covered the children he had left behind. Ahead, he saw what the voice had promised. Firewoody piled high. Swallowing, Jorund threw the torch onto the wood and stepped back, keeping his sword hand ready to draw.


    The pyre burst into mes. Light illuminated the cavern. Kate and Egil appeared as Jorund nced over his shoulder; looking ahead, there seemed to be only the wall of the cave. It had an odd appearance, with lines running in precise patterns like carved stonework. As Jorund stared at it, the wall moved. A pair of yellow orbs appeared, reflecting the light of the mes. With brown scales covering its body, white teeth the size of a mans arm, ck ws like swords, and its very breath pushing them back, a creature of legend rose before their eyes.


    Holy  The sentence died in Jorunds throat. His arms fell limp to his sides.


    I ask again, why have youe to my dwelling? Humble abode though it may be, it is my resting ce. The voice resounded inside the cavern.


    What  who are you? asked Kate.


    You havee to my home, yet you know not who I am? A gust of wind passed through them, as if the creature had blown its breath out in amusement. Names I have that mortal tongues cannotprehend, known only to my kind. Others were bestowed upon me by the forest lords, who delight in giving names. In your speech, many were the cries that rose when my flight across the sky was seen. One pleased me the most, and thus I would be called Earthwing once more.


    ~~~~


    The three travellers stared at the towering figure. With dark-brown scales, the creature had been near invisible against the cavern wall. Youre a dragon, Egil whispered.


    Indeed, little one. If you are disappointed to learn this, you should not havee to a dragonsir. There was a sound like a barrel being drummed repeatedly; he wasughing.


    How can this be? asked Kate.


    How? Little one, do you have all the time in creation to listen, for that is my age, and no less would be needed to tell the tale of Earthwing.


    Youre that old? Egil eximed.


    All of my kind are. Before sun rose, before moon shone, we were there. But these are not matters for mortals, nor is it why you havee.


    Indeed, great one, the young scribe admitted, bowing his head low. He stepped forward, Kate following closely. We did not know we would disturb you. I beg you, do not punish mypanions. Theyve onlye because I pressed them on. The me is mine alone.


    Earthwing rose upon his front legs, towering above Egil. Opening his mouth to speak, the dragon revealed his rows of teeth. Punishment? Has knowledge of Earthwing decayed to such a degree, you would think me capable of such? His voice took a turn, brimming with sorrow. Or do the deeds of my brethren taint my reputation? Calm your hearts, little ones. I obey thews of the divines and always have. None of their children shalle to harm through my acts.


    Dvalinns beard! Jorund eximed. His entire body rxed. So you wont hurt us?


    Was my speech unclear, Master Stoneman? Never have I shed a drop of blood belonging to your kind. I certainly do not intend to begin today. The dragons breath made another gust sweep over them. Perhaps I have approached this conversation in the wrong manner. What are your names, my young visitors?


    Im Egil, apprentice to the Kings Quill.


    Im Kate.


    Im Jorund Seaborn. The Dwarf sent a look towards hispanions before making an awkward bow.


    I bear you no ill will for having roused me from my slumber, but as this was not your intention, I would ask again the cause for your presence.


    We came seeking what Sigvard found, many years ago. Would you know of him? Egil asked.


    Earthwing stretched his neck. Of course. You may rejoice knowing your search isplete. You have found what he found.


    Sigvard found you? Youre the power of Wyrmpeak? Kate asked with wide eyes.


    What else would you imagine to be found in the deep ces of the earth? Did you think the name of the mountain mere fancy? The dragon stretched out his front legs, making each of his ws visible. Verily, Sigvard came to me, seeking to end the war.


    What  the Great War? Thats how it ended? Egil licked his lips, looking like a dog staring at a bone.


    Has it been so long? Does your kind remember nothing? How many years has gone by since the days of Sigvard?


    More than a thousand, Egil revealed.


    A gust of wind passed from Earthwings mouth as the dragon sighed. Deep has been my sleep. I am thest watcher, protecting against a threat that I imagine will nevere. One day, perhaps I shall sleep and never wake again.


    That sounds sad. The same emotion was evident on Kates face.


    Your kindness touches me, little one, but do not be troubled. One way or another, my fate is in the hands of higher powers.


    I cant imagine anything more powerful, Jorund mumbled. He moved to stand in front of his charges.


    You tter me, Master Stoneman, but I must protest. I fear that basking in such words led my brethren to evil. The dragony down, leaning his head over his leg.


    What happened? asked Egil.


    All their hair was pulled forward as Earthwing took a deep breath. I suppose their folly may be a valuable lesson. There is much I should not tell, but the fall of my brothers and sisters inflicted grievous destruction upon your people  who am I to hide this truth? Even if it shames me.


    We dont want you to feel bad, Kate said earnestly.


    For many reasons, Jorund said to himself.


    Earthwing moved his head back and forth, shaking it. Do not be concerned, little one. In the end, we have only ourselves to thank if we are shamed by the truth. Let me tell you as briefly as I can this tale, and you may consider what lessons it holds for us all. The dragon raised his head and stretched out his front legs. Meanwhile, the three travellers sat down on the cave floor, next to one of his wed appendages, and the children ced their heads in their hands.


    So long ago, the years cannot be counted, I had six brothers and sisters. We delighted in flying across the sky, meeting each other in a dance of fire and air. We are not creatures the same as you, little ones. We do not require nourishment, nor do we age. Yet even so, as the years passed, we each felt weariness, and we would retreat to sleep for decades, centuries, or more. I chose this cave as my dwelling, and eventually, I stayed longer and longer. The king of the forest would at timese seeking counsel, but at some point, this ceased as well. Egil and Kate exchanged looks.


    It all changed that day  thest day I received a visitor before your arrival. Earthwing breathed so deeply, his entire body seemed to shake. He was a child of Men, young even by your reckoning. He told me terrible tidings, and I wished with all my being to call him a liar. Yet I knew his every word was true. I have never spoken a lie in all my life, and so I cannot be deceived by falsehood.


    Bloody useful, Jorund muttered.


    His name was Sigvard. He told me of war between the children of the divines, of blood spilt and untold death. Worse than that, his final words were a dagger in my heart. All six of my brethren had abandoned their purpose and turned against thews of the divines. They fought on the battlefield,mitting sacrilege with lifes blood staining their ws and teeth. Indeed, three of them had already fallen to the bravest of heroes among the divine races. Sorrow filled the dragons voice. I shall never know the cause. Long I have spected, but the only reason I could think of such betrayal would be that greed filled their minds, and they sought dominion over others.


    Earthwing breathed deeply again. I knew my duty. A terrible battle was fought beneath the slopes of this very mountain, and the remaining three of my kin stood arrayed against Sigvard and his people. How could there be hope of victory against three of such might? There was only one way to turn the tide. None of his listeners spoke; they sat in rapt attention. I stretched out my wings and left my home. From on high, I saw the battle unfold and my brethren causing wanton death. I gave them one warning  to submit immediately or suffer to be destroyed. They chose thetter.


    The dragon clenched his ws together, scraping cuts into the rock below. I lured them away from the battle that our sh would not inflict casualties upon those below. With fire and fury we fought! All of them came against me, but their might was for naught. Against Earthwing, they fell, one by one. Bloody and wounded, I imed victory, but there was no joy in my heart. I had in my brethren to save your people and thereby made myself thest of my kind.


    He rxed his ws once more, letting them extend, and Kate moved to lean her cheek against the scales of his leg. That is so sad. Im so sorry.


    As am I, little one.


    That must have been incredible to behold, Egil said. How could you stand alone against three other dragons and win?


    The wyrm stretched his neck forward. Seven we were, but not equal in might. He opened his mouth and gave a roar. I am Earthwing! Eldest of my kind, foremost servant to my lord! How could any challenge me? Embers seemed to glow inside of him, visible through his scales. As he raised his head, mes erupted from his jaws, and the cave exploded in light. It disappeared as swiftly as it had arrived. Why would they challenge me? he asked again, and his voice changed from thunder to gentle rain, filled with grief. Why would they not submit? Why would they


    Hamars fist, was all that Jorund could remark.


    Forgive me, dear visitors. Earthwings voice assumed its former steadiness. I did not mean to cause you rm. Rest assured, you remain safe as ever in my presence.


    We understand, Kate said. Thank you for telling us your story.


    So thats how the battle of Valmark was won, Egil considered. Sigvard didnt fight himself. He brought you, great Earthwing, and tipped the scales of the war. Thats why his name is Drakevin, he added in sudden realisation. All these years, and thats all we remember.


    We cant stay here, Jorund interjected. No offence to you, mighty Earthwing, he quickly added. But weve barely any food left and a long journey home.


    I guess youre right, Egil admitted reluctantly. But theres so much we could learn here!


    I think Master Jorund has it right, Earthwing assented. The wise king of the forest never stayed here long. In the deep ces of the earth, the world changes. That is of no consequence to me, but it is to you. Stay too long, and you may not recognise what awaits you outside.


    Kate stood up, cing her hand on the dragons w. It was wonderful to meet you, Earthwing. I will never forget this day.


    Nor shall I, little one.


    Jorund picked up a torch from the fire and gave a deep bow. Farewell, mighty Earthwing.


    Farewell, Egil reiterated.


    And the same to you all. May the blessings of the divines follow you all your days.


    The travellers walked out of the cave, ncing behind several times. As they reached the corridor, Earthwing beat his wing swiftly, causing a strong wind to blow out the fire burning in the middle. The cavern was plunged into darkness once more; a final flicker of light was reflected in the dragons eyes before it disappeared as well.


    ~~~~


    When they stumbled out of the cave opening and into the valley, the sky was darkening. Nearly the entire day had passed inside the mountain. You best prepare your bellies, Jorund told them. Theyll go hungry long before we can replenish our food. Lets be off.


    They began the walk south. Are you well, Jorund? You dont sound like yourself, Kate considered. You didnt say a word the whole journey through the mountain.


    Who wouldnt be impressed by what weve just seen? Egil pointed out.


    Its not that, Jorund imed. I mean, maybe, but more than that.


    What do you mean? asked Kate.


    This is the best story of my life, meeting a dragon, but who will ever believe me? I can never tell a soul without being called a liar. He exhaled deeply. Im ruined as a storyteller.


    Well listen to your story, Kate promised. We know its true.


    Jorund gave a defeated smile. It doesnt really work when you were there as well. The story belongs to you as much as it does to me.


    They continued walking for a while in silence. Far ahead of them, barely visible in the fading light,y the brook at the bottom of the valley; on the other side, they could see the hillside sloping upwards.


    You called yourself Jorund Seaborn, Egil suddenly said. Ive never heard you use that name before.


    Thats right! Kate eximed. You havent told us that.


    What, Ive never told you why Im called Seaborn?


    Both the children shook their heads vigorously. Never!


    Hel in hot water! Thats a mistake on my part. Well, we have to go back more than sixty years

 Chapter 153: Bargains Made

    Chapter 153: Bargains Made


    The fair at Silfrisarn was thergest of its kind in northern Adalrik, and it had taken ce for centuries. At first, it had simply been for iron merchants to purchase ore from the mines of Isarn. Being ced between the copper veins of Vidrevi and the tin mountains of Heohlond, the fair had a natural location to facilitate trade of these metals as well. Wool, always the biggest trade of the realm, became part of the fair also, and many other items eventually followed. At present, countless goods for many purposes were sold and bought at the Silfrisarn fair, though the trade in metals and wool retained the greatest importance.


    To the jarls of Isarn, this yearly event had be their greatest source of revenue along with their silver production. All the iron ore sold at the markets came from their own mines, and their chests overflowed with taxes levied from those trading. Merchants came from all the northern realms to conduct business during the six days of the fair, and prices for food and lodgings were three times as expensive, allowing the citizens of Silfrisarn to earn a handful of silver as well. For the entire jarldom, the Silfrisarn fair meant prosperity, even in times of war.


    ~~~~


    The sheer size of the markets had long precluded the fair from taking ce inside the walls of Silfrisarn. Instead, the fields south of the city were bursting with tents, stalls, carts, and countless goods. Those in the horse trade had their own location furthest to the east, necessitated by the overpowering smell of the beasts. On the first day of the fair, the jarl himself could be found inspecting the animals. Being lord of the region, Isenhart imed the right to be the first buyer of any horses that attracted his attention. As a result, he moved through the pens, apanied by his thanes, the master of his stables, and a scribe keeping notes.


    Commotion arose as Eumund rode through the market; his magnificent steed drew appraising nces and approving remarks. Reaching his father, the thanes stood aside to let the jarls son approach. With the ease of an experienced rider, Eumund dismounted fluently to stand by Isenhart. Father, he spoke. You wanted to know the moment that Uncle Athelstan sent word. That moment is now.


    The jarl stood by a mare, feeling her teeth. Eumund, what do you think of this horse?


    She is a fine beast. She would be worth breeding.


    The jarl scratched his beard before giving a nod to his scribe, who jotted down a few words. Come with me, Isenhartmanded Eumund. Let us find less ears to hear Athelstans message.


    With the thanes keeping people at bay, the jarl and his son left the pens and stood at the edge of the horse fair. Their eyes beheld empty fields to the south, in contrast to the noise and smell of the markets assaulting their other senses.


    When none but his sworn men were near, Isenhart spoke again. What did your uncle say?


    He and Athelbold have arrived at Cairn Donn. They have been well received by King Brin, and few others but the king are aware of their presence. Vale also has emissaries in the city.


    Vale, Isenhart spat. As we expected. Athelstan best not disappoint in his task.


    He will not, Eumund imed. He never does.


    I suppose, the jarl granted. Do you have thetest count of the men from Vidrevi?


    Not thetest. Last I heard, about five hundred had arrived, but that was days ago. I can enquire with the steward, Eumund suggested.


    Do so. Isenhart turned to walk back towards the horse fair.


    Father, Eumund uttered. Do you think it wise to trust King Folkmar, or any of the foresters?


    The jarl gave a contemptuous smile. Hardly. But if he betrays us, we will show him our steel once we are done with the southern silkworms. Until then, we will put his arrows to work.


    As the jarl returned to inspecting the horses, Eumund mounted his own steed and rode back to the keep.


    ~~~~


    Isenwald? Are you in here?


    Yes, Mother. The heir to Isarn stood inside his chambers at the window, staring out at the city.


    There you are! Some of your cousins were hoping you would take them to the fair. The jarlinna moved through the parlour to enter his bedchamber. Is something the matter?


    Nothing at all.


    Isenwald of Isarn, I gave birth to you. Do not think for one moment you can fool me. She walked up to stand next to her son. Her fingers toyed with the tip of an elegant braid, resting over her shoulder. You are troubled by ill thoughts.


    These are  ill times, he replied in his slow fashion.


    They are, Ha admitted. But you were never one to let such thoughts fester in your soul.


    He let out his breath. How can  I ever be jarl, Mother? He gestured with hand towards the city beyond the window. How can  I ever shoulder that responsibility?


    Because you were born to it, my son.


    It would have been better  if Eumund was the  oldest.


    Either of you would make an excellent jarl, Ha imed. The fates wanted it to be you, and they always have their reasons. Tell me, what has brought these feelings up?


    I think  I made mistakes  in Middanhal. If not for me, maybe this war could have been avoided.


    Nothing could have prevented it, Ha said firmly. Look at me, boy. She took hold of his chin to turn his face towards hers. From what I hear, your brother and uncle would have met their end on the scaffold if you had not ensured they were freed alongside you. Others would have fled, but not you.


    I  didnt really think  in that moment, Isenwald admitted. Someone like Eumund would have  immediately considered the  importance  of freeing Uncle Athelstan.


    Because he thinks strategy, Ha assented. You thought with your heart, protecting your family. You and your brother have different instincts, but they both lead to good decisions. That is why I have no doubt you will make a great jarl, my son. In fact, I look forward to seeing you assume the responsibility.


    Hopefully not for many years, Isenwald expressed.


    Ha moved her hand up to caress his cheek. Youre a good man, Isenwald. Now, your mother needs many things from the market. Will you apany me? We will bring some of your unruly cousins, and you can practice being ruler by wrangling them.


    I would rather tame wild dogs, Isenwald remarked with a wry look, but he offered his mother his arm, and they left his chambers together.


    ~~~~


    In another chamber in the keep, a pale womany in bed. By her side sat Athelgar, using a cloth and cold water to cool the womans brow.


    Athelgar, dear boy, is your father home yet? she asked with a feeble voice.


    No, Mother. He is in Heohlond, still. It will be days before he returns. He gently removed a few beads of sweat.


    Right, you told me so. Forgive me. Anhild moved a hand over to pat him on the knee.


    Nothing to forgive, Mother. He ced the cloth in the bowl of water on the nearby table, wringing it afterwards.


    I just wish he were here.


    I know he wishes the same, Athelgar imed, using the cloth on her brow again.


    Do you think it will be long?


    Some days, Mother, maybe longer.


    How long? The question was swallowed by a coughing fit.


    I think you should rest, Athelgar told her.


    That is all I do, sheined.


    Just for a little bit, her son impressed upon her. I will be backter and bring you something to eat.


    Soup, I bet, the sickly woman replied with sudden bite in her voice, but she closed her eyes obediently. With quiet movements, Athelgar rose and left the chamber, carefully shutting the door behind him.


    Outside, he found a small boy sitting in the corridor. What are you doing here? Athelgar asked sternly. I thought you went to the fair with the others.


    How is Mama?


    She is resting, and you are not to disturb her, the youth stressed. Why are you not at the fair?


    I did not feel like going.


    Athelgar tussled his brothers hair. Sitting here will not be any better. Come. He extended his hand towards the boy. I have enough silver to buy you something amusing, if it will get you on your feet.


    There is not anything I want, the boy imed, but he epted Athelgars hand and got on his feet.


    Wait until you see the woodworkers, Athelgar dered confidently, leading the boy out of the hallway.


    ~~~~


    A weekter, the fair drew to a close. The citizens of Silfrisarn returned from the markets for thest time, decorating themselves and their homes with fine clothing, jewellery, carpets, and ornaments. The peasants put their draught beasts before the cart, having sold crops, wool, hides, cattle, and sheep while bringing everything back their own homesteads could not produce. Lastly, merchants departed either east or west; goods and metalsmon in Vidrevi were now brought to Heohlond and reverse.


    One thing set the final day of this fair apart from those of previous years. A steady number of foresters had arrived over the week. They had note in carts or carrying goods. All they brought were bows and des, they sold nothing but their service, and they swelled the ranks of Jarl Isarn.

 Chapter 154: Bargains Broken

    Chapter 154: Bargains Broken


    About two weeks after they had left Middanhal, the three travellers returned. Egils status as apprentice to the Kings Quill got them through the gate without paying toll, and they proceeded along the Arnsweg. Middanhal was little changed from when they left. Around them, citizens hurried about on errands. Guards patrolled the streets, craftsmen worked in their workshops, and children yed,ughing and shouting. The market at the Temple square was busy as ever, and the threepanions walked along the edge to avoid entanglements.


    Atst, the Citadel loomed ahead, much like Wyrmpeak had done for most of their journey. The fortress seemed as impregnable as the mountain had done; its walls and towers were manned by a full garrison, and the banners of Adalrik and the Order flew in the wind. The guards at the gate nodded to Jorund, exchanging coarse words; the Dwarfughed and returned the favour.


    Standing in southern courtyard, the small band looked at each other. I suppose I am to the quartermaster, Jorund considered. Finally get my coin. He smiled wryly.


    I guess the kitchen waits, Kate remarked, a little despondent.


    I better see Master Quill. Egil exhaled. See you in the library tonight? The other two nodded, and they parted.


    The library was as Egil had left it. He closed a book lying open on a table, returning it to the shelves, and put his travel sack in his room.


    Egil, is that you, boy? Quill emerged from his room into the hall, wearing ruffled and stained clothes.


    Yes, master, Egil quickly responded, appearing as well. Is something the matter?


    Quill licked his lips, looking around the library. Did you fetch those feathers?


    Feathers, master?


    It is a poor library thatcks feather pens, Quill mumbled.


    I will fetch more, Egil promised.


    Good. Good, the old man repeated, returning to his chamber.


    Egil watched the door close. He stood pensive for a moment before entering the scriptorium. Finding quill, ink, and parchment, he sat down and set to work. The first word he wrote was the name of Earthwing.


    ~~~~


    From what I hear, the fair at Silfrisarn was as busy as ever. Konstans stared with an indeterminate expression at Edwin.


    I trust your lordship would know best, the alderman mumbled in reply, avoiding the noblemans gaze.


    Konstans let his fingers drum on the desk between them. That is all you have to say? he asked when a few moments had passed.


    Milord, if you would ask anything of me, I would be more than happy to tell you. Otherwise, I would never presume to impose my opinion when unasked. His fingers fidgeted with the golden chain hanging across his stomach.


    Konstans finally broke his stare away, looking at the hourss on his desk. It is obvious that many defied the ban and traded at Silfrisarn. I want you to find all these traitors.


    Milord, I cant possibly believe any would dare


    Then your imagination is too limited, Konstans interjected. I will have my own people assist you. Arion, my brothers chambein, willb the ledgers of your guild members.


    Milord, Edwin protested, a merchants books are sacred! I cannotmand my fellow members to open their books  the very thought is unthinkable!


    Not to me, Konstans stated dryly. I have already written a statement granting Arion the necessary rights. He will be at your guildhall tomorrow morning. You will assist him in every way unless you want to lose that chain.


    Edwin wetted his lips with a nervous look. Very good, milord.


    Watching the final sands of the hourss run through, Konstans waved his hand. Dismissed.


    ~~~~


    The study belonging to the lord protector was stacked with books. His desk bore the brunt, but towers had been built on either side as well, and more ledgersy inyers atop the sole bookshelf in the room. As for the lord protector himself, he sat by the desk with open books in front of him and his infant son in hisp.


    You see, my son, these are all the expected expenses for each caravan going to Alczar, Valerian exined. The small child in his arms reached out, trying to grab hold of the book. And here are the actual expenses, he continued, pointing to another ledger. This is just forst year, but I have gone through several. The child responded with incoherent noises. I have written down a few calctions where did I put it He rummaged through the loose parchments with his free hand, maintaining a firm grip on his son with the other.


    Here! Valerian pulled a sheet from underneath several others. See? Do you see it? The small child opened his mouth and tried to bite down, leaving drool on the parchment. This is for reading, not eating, Valerian chastised him, cing the sheet out of reach. As the numbers show, someone thinks your father a fool.


    Valerian! eximed a voice, and the jarl looked up to see his wife enter the study. Valerius needs to sleep, and he has not had milk yet!


    Sleep and milk is all he gets, grumbled Valerian. I was just teaching the boy a few things.


    You can do so when he is old enough to understand, Alexandra chastised him, walking forward with her arms stretched out.


    Fine. I will bring him to his nursemaid, Valerian dered, standing up, holding one arm around the boys stomach like carrying a barrel.


    Honestly, Valerian, mind his head!


    Valerian patted what little hair the boy had. He will be fine. The men of Vale have sturdy heads.


    Stubborn, more like it, his wife retorted, once more reaching out her hands to take the child.


    I said I would bring him, Valerian brushed her off, walking past her.


    Valerian! She turned on her heel to stalk after him. Watch his head!


    ~~~~


    Arndis sat in her atrium, reading missives when her handmaiden informed her of a visitor. Send him in.


    The alderman of the guilds appeared with an awkward smile. Lady Arndis. He inclined his head.


    Thank you, Jenny, Arndis said pointedly, and the handmaiden disappeared.


    Edwins smile turned sly, and he untied the coin purse at his belt. Your share, mdy, he informed her, cing the bag in her hand. Feel free to count.


    I am sure that is not necessary.


    As a merchant, I must protest, but as a simple man, I appreciate your courtesy.


    Arndis gave Edwin a smile to mirror his own. Given we have further business together, if you were nning to cheat me, I imagine you would wait until the most opportune moment.


    The aldermanughed. Of all my partners in business, you are my favourite, Lady Arndis. She epted thepliment with a nod. You will be pleased to hear the tin sold at the price we expected. There was somepetition for the copper, but my reeve was able to buy the bulk of it.


    How long until we can sell it?


    It will be weeks before it reaches Heohlond. Rest assured, once that is done, I shall return with another bag. He gestured towards the coin purse.


    I shall look forward to your next visit, in that case. I did not expect you would make this visit in person, truth be told.


    As said, my favourite liaison, Edwin smiled. Not to mention, I had matters requiring my presence in the Citadel anyway, and I thought I might as well remove the need for a messenger to make this particr delivery. The fewer hands involved, the better.


    Quite right. That reminds me, I hear a rumour that the dragonlord is making enquiries into the guild of merchants.


    The alderman sent her an inquisitive nce. I wonder who might have shared that rumour with herdyship.


    Wonder all you want, master alderman, it will not cost you anything.


    He gave a grin that quickly disappeared. It is true. Lord Konstans is releasing his hounds upon us.


    Anything to be concerned about?


    As you are not a member of the guild, mdy, I cannot possibly see why you would have to be worried. As for me He stood a little taller. I have survived three dragonlords  four, if you count Sir Roderic and his few months of office. I am not concerned.


    Very well. Thank you for your visit, master alderman.


    He made a slight bow. Until next time, Lady Arndis.


    Once Edwin was gone, Arndis collected the coin purse and entered her chamber. She poured the coins onto her desk, stacking them until she had a count. Satisfied, she unlocked her strongbox and poured the coins inside.


    Arndis? came Eleanors voice.


    Locking the small chest, Arndis returned to the atrium. Yes?


    Did I see the alderman leave our rooms?


    Yes. A courtesy visit, since I have dealings with the fellows of his guild.


    How nice. I know little of him, but it is pleasant to see good manners in someonemonborn.


    Arndis smiled sardonically. Indeed. Are you going to the gardens?


    I am. Just a little stroll before the meal. Eleanor corrected her veil.


    Let me apany you, Arndis suggested, picking out a hat and a pair of gloves.


    Really? I thought you had business to attend to.


    It can wait a while. I feel in a good mood. With a more genuine smile, Arndis took her friend by the arm, and they left together.


    ~~~~


    Even at ate hour, Konstans could be found in the study of the dragonlord. Any servants had retired for the night and all supplicants sent away; he was alone in the wing, reading and scribbling documents. His solitude was interrupted as the door opened. The frown on his face suggested his anger at being disturbed until he saw it was his wife, carrying a te of food and arge goblet.


    Mathilde, there was no need, he imed, as she found a ce on his desk for the te and cup.


    You look haggard, she said tly. You cannot rule the realm if you are dead. Now eat.


    He grumbled but did as told, taking a heavy sip from the goblet. Strong.


    You can use it. Eat something as well.


    He broke off a piece of the meat pie and put it in his mouth. He chewed it quickly. I am hungry, he admitted.


    Of course you are. Since you insist on making a habit of thesete nights, I will be making a habit of this as well, Mathilde dered.


    Konstans brought the goblet to his lips once more, emptying it. I suppose there is no harm in that. Unlike these letters, he growled.


    His wife stood up and fetched a pitcher of wine from a small table, filling his cup. Ill news?


    My envoy to Cairn Donn has not had sess with Brin. The old rascal may coat his words with honey and crust, but his intentions are easy to read, Konstans uttered with a touch of contempt. He intends to sit this war out.


    Strange. Your offer was generous, especially to a ragged king and his band of savage mountain men. Do you think Isarn got to him?


    It is possible, Konstans granted. He would never join them in the field  with Theodstan in our hands, he would be isted from his allies. But perhaps Isenhart simply offered him payment in exchange for remaining neutral. That would suit the old greybeard well, getting paid for doing nothing.


    Not to mention the history between Athelstan and the king.


    Konstans frowned for a moment. The hignder war. I forgot.


    What of Vidrevi? If the foresters could be dragged into this, that would leave Isarn vulnerable. Folkmars soldiers could plunder western Isarn with impunity, Mathilde suggested.


    Konstans picked up a letter from his table, waving it about. My spy at the Silfrisarn fair has sent word regarding that. Numerous foresters have been seen, dressed for war. Either they are mercenaries in Isenharts employ, or


    Folkmar sees this as his chance to weaken Adalrik, Mathilde concluded. That repulsive little moss-licker.


    I had hoped to send apany of mercenaries through Vidrevi and achieve exactly what you suggested, Konstans exined, but as it stands, I doubt Folkmar will grant them leave to march through hisnds.


    You need to turn Theodstan from passive to active ally, Mathilde considered. He may not be a match for Isarn in the field, but he can still have his soldiers raid Isarns allies in the north.


    Our treaty with him states he is not obliged to provide levies, Konstans argued.


    You must pressure him. Whether with rod or honeb, get him tomit.


    I will consider it, Konstans assented. Gods, this war will drain the life from all of us.


    At least matters at home stand better, his wife considered, with Konstantines betrothal to the Hardling girl secured. Soon, the blood of the dragonborn will work in our favour.


    Regarding one of them, Konstans muttered. He searched through his missives once more until he found his quarry. Adalbrand, that perennial thorn in our side, has vanished from the eyes of my spies.


    How is that possible? How is he even still alive? I thought he went to the Reach.


    He did, and he came back alive. That is thest I know. His men returned to the Order camp, but he did not.


    Mathilde scratched her cheek with her finely shaped nails. Do you think he has gone into hiding? If so, he must be making nefarious ns.


    No doubt. Konstans emptied his goblet again.


    Thankfully, he is a pure novicepared to us. Mathilde gave a satisfied smile. Let us to bed, husband. The realm with all its worries will still be standing tomorrow. She stood up, extending a hand towards him. cid, he epted and followed her to bed.

 Chapter 155: The Prince and the Atheling

    Chapter 155: The Prince and the Atheling


    A caravan approached Alczar from the north. While not unheard of, these were rare; most goods entered the city through one of the harbours or else by caravan from the east. Its origin was the city of Maleth, whichy up the coast towards Adalmearc. Maleth served as a minor port for ships that for one reason or another did not wish to unload their goods in Alczar; the same held true for passengers seeking to enter Alczar overnd rather than sea.


    After braving the treacherous straits of the Teeth and joining the caravan in Maleth as a guard, Brand could now follow the camels through the gate to enter Alczar. He had spent his youth as a squire to Athelstan in this city; only two years had passed since the pair had left Alczar and returned to Adalmearc.


    While the leader of the caravan paid toll, Brand took a deep breath. The air in Alczar was a blend of dust and spice, tinging with the smell of animals in the sun. Leading one of the camels to water, Brand patted the beast on its neck while surveying his surroundings. His skin was tanned after his sojourn into the Reach, and the dark colour of his hair made him look like any other in the city. Only the blue of his eyes set him apart from most, though in a city of crossroads like Alczar, not even that would raise eyebrows.


    Once past the gate, the caravan continued to a nearby warehouse. All goods were unloaded from the camels, and both men and beasts made their final stop, reaching one of the serais clustered around the northern gate. The animals were ced in stables, while the drivers and guards could finally rx. The caravan master paid them their wage for the journey, making arrangements with those willing to work the return journey. Some sought food or sleep in the serai; others went into the city to spend their coin without dy.


    Brand was among thetter group, though not for long. While the rest sought towards the marketces or docks, Brand went alone towards the centre of the city. He crossed the maswar, keeping a tight hold of his coin purse as he went through the crowd. To his left rose the Tower of Justice in dark stone as a warning to all who would break the Kabirsw.


    Continuing into the medinas nestled around the maswar, Brands path took him through narrow streets and alleys until he stood before a small building with a dragon sigil above its doorframe. He stepped inside and knelt by the altar, whispering a brief prayer and leaving a few coins in offering.


    Getting on his feet again, he nced around in the dark room. Gods peace, he called out.


    A ckrobe appeared from an adjacent room. Gods peace to you, traveller. You are wee in Rihimils abode.


    Brand nced towards the door opening. Seeing it empty, he withdrew a rune-stave and extended it. This is for you.


    With me. The priest returned to the adjoining chamber, followed by Brand. By the light of a window, he examined the runes upon the wood. What name is written here?


    Harun, Brand replied. And you are Brother Cuthbert.


    The priest switched into Suthspeech. You speak the tongue well enough that any will believe your name is Harun?


    None questioned it on the journey here from Maleth, Brand pointed out, speaking the samenguage.


    Cuthbert nodded. Good. You should not linger in this ce. The Kabirs men are watching the temple.


    Very well. When should I contact you again?


    You shouldnt. Wear this. The priest removed his own ne and ced it in Brands hand. It was a smooth stone with the rune for Rihimil carved into it. Our man will find you. Where are you staying?


    At one of the serais near the Kabirs Gate. I came with the caravan of Master al-Hossam.


    Good. Make sure to spend tomorrow evening there, and keep this visible.


    As you say, Brand acquiesced. He removed the cloth wrapped around his head, revealing a knotted leather string already resting around his neck, to which he added the stone pendant. With a small adjustment, it came to rest upon his chest atop his clothes.


    Excellent. You should leave now. If you find yourself followed, do not react, Cuthbert warned him. And no matter what, do not return to this ce. It will arouse suspicion.


    Very well. Brand walked out of the chamber. You have no acolyte to help you keep the temple? he asked, ncing around.


    No time for questions, Cuthbert imed with an unhappy look. Go, before anybody suspects you are more than a simple traveller.


    Brand gave a nod inpliance. Fare you well then, Brother Cuthbert.


    Rihimil protect you, the priest responded, watching Brand leave the small temple.


    ~~~~


    Back on the streets, Brand did not return to the serai. Instead, he went deeper into the city, moving to the small marketce. Its name came not from its size, but the goods being bartered; all manners of sundries were sold in this ce. Standing at the edge, Brand saw, heard, and smelled it all. Colours of every kind could be seen in the garments or the canopies covering the booths. At every stall, vendors and buyers haggled, whether it was to buy yards of cloth or a small ribbon. As Brand moved forward, the scent of pepper was reced by cinnamon before the smell of roasting chicken suddenly took hold. Unlike Garrick, who had observed it all with a look of wonder, Brand took it all in with an expression of contentment.


    For a few copper coins, Brand bought himself a slice of chicken and a piece of freshly baked bread. Gnawing on his food, he left the marketce and walked west, leading him to enter the southern medinas. These neighbourhoodsy with little space to spare, and every building was filled to the brim with upants; furthermore, these streets had a reputation for being ruled by brigands, and the city guard made only a token effort to maintain peace.


    If any harbouring ill intent watched Brands progress, they left him alone; the sword by his waist and the confidence in his steps set him aside from the easy mark that most rogues preferred to prey upon. At one point, he stopped in one of the medinas briefly to drink his fill from the well. The bucket had to go deep before it hit water; it would be a while before winter woulde, bringing rain. Nearby, he heard the sound of poetry being recited in unison by a choir of young voices. Looking up, his eyes found the local madrasa and the score of children inside, repeating the words of al-Tayir and others. Brand stayed a brief while; on asion, his lips found the right words and fell into the same rhythm as the children.


    At length, with a smile, he moved onwards. Passing through one medina after the other, he eventually came close to the city walls and could follow them to the west gate and the harbour thaty beyond. As could be expected, this was the busiest part of the city; people and goods moved in countless numbers in and out.


    Brand found one of the numerous establishments serving both locals and sailors, buying himself a cup of evening tea. Around him, young and old did the same. Whether rich or poor, tea in the evening was a custom observed by all in Alczar. Conversation flowed around him like a river surrounding a solitary rock. Brand paid no heed, keeping his eyes west. The Outer Sea spread out before him. A few ships could be seen in the far distance; soon, the fires at the edges of the harbour would be lit, guiding them to safe port.


    In the far horizon, the sun sank into the sea. It dyed the waters red and gold, and from this position, nothing obstructed Brands view. He sat close to where many years ago, al-Tayir hadposed many of his famous poems; presumably, it was when exposed to this view, the poet had named Alczar the City of Sunset.


    His tea finished, Brand got up. Turning his back to the sea, he walked east, passing through the gate into the city before it was locked for the night.


    ~~~~


    The following day, Brand took another stroll through the city. His seraiy close to the Kabirs pce, and he went there early in the cool of the morning. Walls surrounded the estate, but only to keep out intruders; they were not wide enough to allow soldiers upon them. Instead, a few towers rose to allow guards a vantage point. Brand stood staring at the gate for a while; behindy the ce he had called home for seven years. Now, it was clear he would not be allowed inside. Neither Adalbrand the knight nor Harun the caravan guard would be wee at the Kabirs court.


    When he had lingered long enough for the guards to notice him, Brand turned and left, walking south once more. This time, his path took him to the great market. Here,rge quantities of materials were traded among merchants along with livestock and ves. Thetter two dominated the smell in the air; animals and human bodies were herded together in small confines, and despite canopies being raised to provide shade, the heat could be felt by all.


    The traders ignored Brand as he walked between the pens and stalls; his sword and demeanour made it clear he was not a merchant nor the kind of servant sent to buy ves or animals for the household. Sheep, goats, cattle, and horses were sold along with people from every corner of the world.


    Brand did not linger, but walked through the great market to reach its other end. He kept moving until the sounds and smells had dissipated. Feeling the noon heat, he ducked into an eatery and was served wine along with steamed vegetables. Once his meal was done, he had a few more cups, passing the time while watching warehouse workers hauling goods to the great market. After an hour, Brand bade the tavern keeper farewell, receiving a blessing in return, and made his way back to the serai.


    ~~~~


    When evening came, Brand stayed in thergemon room that served as both sleeping and eating quarters for the serai. Around his neck he wore the ckrobes pendant. He had found a chair and sat in a corner, giving him a view of the room. In one hand, he held a cup of tea; he continued to sip from it even after it was empty.


    At length, a man strode into the room. His height and muscr appearance drew some looks, but nothing more than that; his clothing was typical for a citizen of Alczar, and all sorts of people could be found in a serai. Around his neck, he had a wooden pendant; it resembled a statue with a rune upon it.


    As the neer moved through the room, he came close enough for Brand to see the ne. He demonstratively touched his own, making sure the rune upon the stone was visible.


    Harun, said the other man in greeting, and Brand rose to meet him. Its me, Majid. He extended a hand, which Brand epted. As they touched, a small, wooden rune-stave was passed from Majids grip into Brands. Were old friends, he whispered.


    Majid, old friend, Brand replied with a loud voice. He ced his hand inside his flowing garbs, allowing him to deposit the rune-stave into an inner pocket. I am pleased to see you.


    It saddens me I cannot stay. I must be going, Majid told him, also speaking loudly.


    Surely you have time to stay for tea, Brand enquired.


    Sadly, I must be going. Majid began to turn, but hispanion reached out to hold him by the shoulder.


    I insist  old friend. Brand put particr emphasis on the final words. We have not spoken in so long, there is much I wish to ask of you.


    Majid licked his lips, ncing around. Some of the other patrons looked at them. Not here, Majid dered quietly. These people know you  you shouldnt attract more attention.


    Plenty of ces that will serve us tea, Brand pointed out cidly. Follow me.


    They made their way out of the serai; one walked with casual confidence, the other with a wary look. Crossing a few streets to leave the area by the gate and enter the nearby medina, Brand settled them at a small table by a tavern. The proprietor, catching Brands eyes, raised two fingers in the air, to which Brand nodded. Shortly after, two cups were ced on their table.


    All throughout this, Majid had been near scowling at hispanion; seeing Brand raise the cup, blow the steam away, and take a sip did nothing to improve his mood.


    Old friend, with that look upon your face, people will get curious, Brand admonished him.


    Taking a deep breath, Majid adopted a nk expression and took his own cup of tea. Why are we here?


    Do you speak the northern tongue? Brand asked.


    I do, came the reply in Adalspeech.


    Excellent. I doubt anybody cares about our conversation, but just in case, Brand exined, also speaking the Mearciannguage.


    I ask again, why are we here? My task was simply to deliver to you what has been delivered.


    I think there is much to gain if I can ask you a few questions. After all, our cause is the same, Brand dered. How long have you served the ckrobes?


    My master does not wear ck, Majid replied confused.


    The priests, Brand borated. He held the stone pendant around his neck with its divine rune. You bear the mark of Rihimil, same as I.


    This? Majid mirrored Brands gesture. It has nothing to do with gods. It is simply a token to remember a  a fallen friend.


    You fought side by side with a northerner? I assume he was, given he worshipped a northern god.


    We fought on the sands together. What of it?


    Brand leaned back, giving the other man an appraising look. You are a champion of the sands. It was in to see you are a warrior, but I did not expect that.


    Does it matter? Why are you wasting my time?


    Brand raised his hands with the palms outwards in a calming gesture. I simply wish to understand who I am dealing with. You speak like a native of Alczar, yet you are a champion of Labdah, and now you run errands for northern priests.


    I dont see why any of this is important. Ive done my task. Our business is concluded, and you have given me no reason to think otherwise. Majid rose to his feet.


    I want to meet your master, Brand quickly said. If you are merely the messenger, I wish to speak with the man who stands behind you.


    The whole reason I am being sent is to avoid that, Majid pointed out. He has no interest in meeting you.


    Brand rose as well. Tell him that Khalid calls upon him.


    That name means nothing to me.


    It will to him. I will wait here tomorrow evening for your master.


    Majid smiled with a touch of contempt. Wait all you want. He turned and left. Brand left a few coins on the table and departed as well.


    ~~~~


    On the second morning after his arrival to Alczar, Brand ventured into the city once more. His path took him across the maswar once more to reach the eastern part. Rather than seek the small market as the other day, he went further east to pass through the gate and reach the eastern docks.


    Compared to its western counterpart, this harbour received far fewer merchant vessels; as a consequence, it had less traffic of goods and people. Instead, ships built for wary anchored at most piers. Many were galleys, swift, manoeuvrable, and well-suited forbat at sea along the shallow coastlines of the Mydlonde Sea. Ships of newer make could be found as well, with deeper keels and more masts, relying rather on wind than oars; ships that were built for the intent to traverse the deeper, dangerous seas between Alczar and Adalmearc.


    Even though less used for trade, the docks remained busy. Countless sailors crowded the harbour and nearby establishments that offered food, drink, and entertainment. Workers, both skilled and unskilled, were found everywhere upied with tasks; a constant train of donkeys carrying materials and tools for ship-building passed through the gate, dispersing to various destinations. Lastly, scores of soldiers patrolled the docks, keeping the peace and guarding the ships of Alczar.


    Moving north along the city walls, Brand approached the wharf that supplied the city with its fleet and the merchants with their vessels. This area was a nest of ants frantic with activity. Men dragged timber from stockpiles to be sawed into nks. Large rocks were hewn into exact shape and ced in the bottom of the wooden skeletons taking shape, providing bast for the ship-to-be. Endless coils of rope were ready to be run along railings and masts, connecting sails and ship like blood veins. Lastly, great sails made from cotton or linen were hauled to storehouses, waiting as the final piece to be added.


    Apart from the shipwrights, their apprentices, and the workers, the wharf was also heavily guarded. Watching from a distance, Brand saw numerous spear tips above the crowd ofbourers. As he stood, observing the ships being built, he was himself observed; a number of the aforementioned spear tips began moving in his direction. Turning on his heel, Brand made a hasty departure, leaving the docks entirely.


    ~~~~


    When evening came, Brand sat in the same tavern as the day before. He did not hide his smile when he saw Majid approach.


    Follow me, Majid instructed him, wearing a scowl as he had during theirst conversation.


    Certainly. Smiling more than ever, Brand finished his tea, left payment, and rose to follow Majid.


    They walked for hours, crossing most of Alczar until they reached one of the southern medinas, looking like any other neighbourhood. Here, Majid exined, approaching a building. It was the only word he had spoken during their journey through the city. He opened the door and entered; Brand followed. They stepped into an empty room with sparse furniture and little else. Majid pointed across the room to a door on the other side. Through there.


    Moving past him, Brand did as instructed and walked into the back room. It contained four things. A table, a chair on either side of it, and a man sitting in one of them. Somewhere in his fifties, he was dressed modestly like a servant. Behind him was yet another door. Pleasant surroundings, Brand remarked, ncing at the bare walls.


    The walls and doors are thick. We will not be overheard, his host exined with a smile. Please, take a seat. He motioned towards the empty chair in front of Brand.


    A convenient escape route, Brand retorted, nodding towards the exit behind the other man. As he sat down, Majid closed the door to the other room, giving them privacy.


    One can never be too careful in my line of work.


    Are you him? asked Brand.


    Haktar, no, I am but a simple servant like Majid. My name is Jawad, and yours is Harun, I am told? He leaned back in his chair.


    Brand did the same, allowing him to inspect Jawad from head to toe despite the table between them. It is. I must confess to some disappointment. I thought tonight I would meet the infamous Prince of Cats.


    Jawad smiled. Not a name to be tossed around lightly. How do you know it?"


    "Khalid told me who I would have dealings with."


    "Were it not for Khalid, or should I call him Godfrey, for we know his true name, my master would have ignored you entirely or worse. Now exin the reason I am spending my night in this forsaken hole, meeting you.


    Of course. The symbols that Majid delivered to me  do you know what they say?


    I see no reason to reveal whether I do or not. Jawad was still smiling, but his voice had an unmistaken edge to it.


    I cannot read the old runes, Brand admitted, except when they are used as numbers. And I saw two numbers on the wood. I believe one signifies ships and the other soldiers. Specifically, the Kabirs fleet and his mercenaries.


    Jawad shrugged. Perhaps. What is that to me or my master?


    The other day, I went to the western docks and the great market. One thing struck me as curious. Hardly any timber was unloaded or sold. Simrly, iron ore, tools, and weapons were scarce to find.


    Your point?


    The Kabirs shipwrights are frantically working, but their stockpiles are running low. Soon, the Kabir will not have lumber for more ships or iron for more weapons. I believe the Kabir ns to invade Adalmearc. The message delivered by Majid to me suggests the same. Without timber or steel, he will have no reason to dy further, as he cannot add more ships or troops.


    I am a simple man  these are matters far beyond me, Jawad imed.


    Ignoring his remark, Brand continued. While unusual to invade thiste in the harvest season, I believe that is exactly the Kabirs intention. He will seize the fortress upon Fortnn in a lightning assault, gaining safe harbour for his fleet and unfettered ess to the Eylonde Sea. He can spend winter transporting troops and supplies to the ind while raiding Thusund, hindering their efforts to assemble their own fleet. Once spring arrives, he will have his full army ready to invade every ind, every coast along the Eylonde Sea.


    I wouldnt im to know the Kabirs mind. Besides, I fail to see why this is significant for my master.


    The Kabir cannot invade overnd. If he marches up the coast, there will not be enough water for his army. Not to mention, the Mearcians will have advance warning and can defend the long wall. Brand paused for a moment. Without his fleet, the Kabir cannot invade.


    Jawad leaned forward, cing his elbows on the table. You want to destroy his ships.


    That was my first thought. But setting ships ame is difficult, given all the water they are surrounded with, Brand pointed out. We may torch one or two before the guards stop us and the fire.


    We? Jawads voice held equal parts disbelief and disdain.


    Most of the ships have not yet been fully outfitted, however, Brand continued undeterred. Their sails and rope are in storage. A much easier target to hit. Without sail or rope, a ship is just a floating piece of wood.


    A reluctant smile appeared on Jawads face. Youre bold, Ill give you that. If you want to run around setting fires, we wont stop you.


    I will need help. Someone to keep watch, at the very least.


    The more people, the greater chance of discovery. Regardless, your n may be for naught. After rather aggressively pursuing an alliance with Labdah, the Kabir now controls their fleet as well. Even if we carry out your n, he will still have many ships at his disposal.


    We do not need to destroy his fleet, merely cripple it, Brand argued. He cannot invade if he can only transport a few thousand troops at a time. Especially if Thusund is warned and their fleet is stronger than the Kabirs.


    Jawad blew out his cheeks. That may all be true, but I see no reason we should help you.


    This could prevent war between Alczar and Adalmearc, Brand imed.


    We are thieves, not soldiers. Why should we care?


    Khalid would want you to help me, Brand ventured to say.


    Khalid. Jawad gave a sardonic smile. Khalid is owed a debt, it is true. But he is demanding payment more and more often. I dont think my master will care.


    Should we ask him?


    Rest assured, I will ry everything you say to the Prince.


    Is that necessary? I suspect he has heard everything already, Brand argued.


    I dont follow. Jawad wore an expression of genuine confusion.


    You are dressed like a simple servant, and you even dirtied your boots. Still, it is in they are made from the finest leather. The stitching is perfect, a mark of excellent craftsmanship. Brand leaned back to look under the table briefly. If I were to guess, they are lined withmbs wool. It looks soft. He straightened his back, looking at Jawads hand. The skin on your finger has a pale band where you normally wear a ring. Strange for a servant to wear rings, even stranger to feel the need to disguise it. He looked up at the rogues face. You speak in a subservient manner, but your demeanour betrays confidence. Add to that, one of the most famous exploits of the Prince was the murder of al-Badawi deep inside the harmlik of his own pce, which happened more than thirty years ago. Based on that, I would wager the Prince to be between fifty or sixty years old.


    Jawad returned the stare sent his way. Moments of silence passed. Nobody ever looks at the boots.


    As many miles as I have marched, I have learned to appreciate good footwear.


    A knowing smile appeared on Jawads face. Whether for sneaking or fleeing, good boots are necessary for a thief. The smile disappeared. But you are not the only man with eyes, Harun. You speak the true tongue wlessly, but your intentions betray you to be a northerner. Beyond that, you speak as one raised in marble halls. Id wager good silver you were born among the nobility and came as a child to Alczar, learning our speech. He nced at Brands neck. Especially with that leather string you wear, knotted by a girl from Alczar to show her affection for you. It looks old. The two of you must have parted ways years ago. Furthermore, you have the bearing of a mamluk, a warrior trained from birth. Along with your noble blood, that would make you a knight. One who spent his youth in Alczar. There cannot be many of those.


    Brand adjusted the cor of his tunic, hiding the leather string around his neck. Maybe not. It matters little to me  I have no interest in your identity. Only whether you will help me.


    Jawads smile returned briefly. I suppose we can keep each others secrets.


    More pertinently, will you help me prevent a war?


    The Prince of Cats scratched the stubbles on his cheek. One condition. My debt to Khalid is paid in full  whether we seed or not, he stressed. If I ever hear the name Khalid again, I will ignore it. If I hear it twice, I will consider it a threat and respond ordingly. Do we understand each other?


    Brand nodded with a smile. Perfectly. We need to move fast. If the Kabir wishes to strike before winter, his fleet will set sail within a few weeks.


    That should be plenty of time.


    We have less. The ships must be prepared beforehand, meaning the sails will be removed from storage and fitted to the ships within the next days, Brand pointed out.


    Good point. We will strike within the next few days.


    Tomorrow night, preferably.


    Jawad raised an eyebrow. And how many times have you broken into a guardedpound,mitted theft, and escaped unnoticed?


    I have conducted nightly raids before.


    Jawadughed. With much noise, no doubt. This is different. First, we must ascertain the cement of our mark  the sails, ropes, and what else we want to destroy. We must also determine patrol patterns, number of guards, blind spots where we may hide. Lastly, most importantly, we must deduce the safest way to enter and leave. Given that our act of arson will send a bright signal to every guard in the vicinity, alerting them to our location, that wont be easy.


    Brand swallowed. Fine. I leave the details to you.


    Finally, some sense. I need all of tomorrow to scout the mark. Return to this building the day after tomorrow, at noon, Jawad instructed him.


    At noon? That sounds early, but as you say.


    Well need to get through the gate while its daylight and have time to get into position, Jawad exined. Ill bring clothes for you, something that doesnt jingle with every step.


    Brand inclined his head. Very well. The day after tomorrow at noon.


    Leave through the front door.


    As you wish. Brand rose and opened the door behind him. He passed by Majid, giving him a brief nod before he left the building.


    Long talk, Majid remarked, stepping into the back room.


    Indeed. But fruitful, I think. Lock the front door, Jawadmanded him, getting up to stand by the back door. Lets be off as well.


    Very well.


    I have a message for you to deliver, also, this very night.


    Tonight?


    Yes, to our friend by the great market. Tell him to get his hands on all the cotton and linen he can. Theres going to be a shortage in the city very soon.

 Chapter 156: Night Labour

    Chapter 156: Night Labour


    Beyond the southern gate in Alczary the slums known as Almudaina. Each morning, once the gates opened, the residents of this area shuffled into the city to beg, steal, or seek work as daybourers. Like a caravan of poor and dirty people, usually dressed in little more than rags, they moved through the city, branching into different directions. Some sought the warehouse districts, others went to the harbours, selling the strength of their hands and backs for a few silvers.


    They were so numerous, nobody noticed when a short, slim man in his fifties joined their march; his worn clothing and sandals made him look like any other of the hojon. He went with those walking to the eastern docks, waiting inrge groups to be selected for work. Some went to unload the few merchant vessels allowed to moor in this harbour; Jawad kept away. Instead, he waited until overseers from the wharf appeared, needing workers to carry materials.


    Several scores of the hojon were chosen, and they set off following the overseers. Only the sick, hurt, or otherwise unfit for hardbour remained, left with no recourse but to beg in the city for their meal.


    The overseers led Jawad and the other daybourers to a stockpile of timber, ushering them to pick up the logs and carry them to the shipwrights, who would cut them into shape. In pairs, they lifted the lumber and began the haul.


    Stretching his neck, Jawad reached down and grabbed one end of a log. I have not seen you before working here, jiddo, said the young man who took the other end. Together, they began the walk towards the small sawmill.


    I usually try my luck on the other docks, Jawad exined, his voice strained with effort. But fewer and fewer ships every day, less and less work. I can go hungry for one day, maybe even two, but three? Rather the rats, he added, quoting a typical saying in Almudaina.


    Hah, I know the feeling. This is better work, anyway, imed hispanion. Unloading ships, you have to carry each load by yourself until your back breaks. He was leading their way, moving in and out to avoid obstacles on their path.


    Very true, my young friend, though these old hands will notst forever either, Jawad admitted with a mournful voice.


    Dont worry, jiddo, we take care of each other here. Take the smaller end next time, Ill carry the heavier one. Are your hands properly wrapped?


    You are good towards an old man. Yes, they are.


    If the cloth breaks, let me know. The overseers have old rags they let us use.


    They continued in silence until they reached their destination, lowering the log next to its fellows. The smell of sawdust hung in the air along with the sounds of wood being shaped by serrated de or hatchet. Jawad let his eyes wander across the area, but already an overseer was upon them, pushing them back. Get the next, youzy bastards!


    Were on our way, sidi, Jawads youngrade imed, and they began the walk back. They talk tough, but they rarely hit us. Its better than working in the warehouses.


    I prefer being outside too, Jawad chipped in. Air is all stuffy inside those warehouses, and its always so dark because theyre too cheap to light anymps, so every other day, some poor alhajin trips and breaks his leg. And the masters, they simply hire another.


    You speak the truth, jiddo. Stick to the docks, I always say.


    Do you only ever haul timber down here?


    These days, yes. Thats all they need.


    They split for a moment to avoid other pairs of workersing towards them, bringing logs for the pile. Dont ships need sails? asked Jawad as they walked side by side again. I hate hauling cotton, those bales are neverfortable.


    The young manughed. Of course, jiddo, but there are no sailmakers out here. Theyre all inside the city.


    I see, so youre spared ever touching that damnable stuff. They had reached the stockpile and bowed down to pick up another log; as promised, the younger alhajin took the heavier end. Or do you ever have to carry the sails?


    I did, months ago. This summer, its only been lumber, though.


    It sounds like a long trip, Jawad remarked. I once hauled from the docks to warehouses in the northern district, what a sweat!


    It wasnt so bad. The sailmakers are not far from here, just inside the gate.


    I suppose they knew it was smartest to ce them there, Jawad pointed out with a grin. I dont see any pile of sailcloth anywhere though, he added.


    Hispanionughed. Jiddo, they cant just leave it on the ground for the rats to gnaw at. He threw his head towards a cluster of small buildings built close to the city wall. Its all stored in there.


    Of course, theyd have to store it somewhere, Jawad assented, smiling.


    They continued their work for a few hours before a break was called and water was distributed along with bread and figs. As the workers crowded together to eat and drink, Jawad stepped away, leaving unnoticed.


    ~~~~


    Leaving the docks, Jawad went to the building where yesterday he had met with Brand. Entering, he found Majid ying cards against himself; several piles of garmentsy on the table as well. Master, he said in greeting, ceasing his y.


    You found clothes, I see. For the northerner as well?


    I did. Were roughly the same height, it should fit him well enough.


    Hell have to be satisfied, Jawad remarked with a smile. He untied his sandals and removed them. Thats all I need from you today. Be here tomorrow at noon.


    Despite the dismissal, Majid remained in ce. Master, began hesitantly.


    Yes? Jawad responded, busy removing his ragged clothing.


    So far, the work has been easy and the pay good. I couldntin.


    Jawad pulled a tunic from one of the piles, putting it on. Yet I get the sense youre about to.


    When you employed me, you told me we wouldnt do anything uwful. Im no thief, master, and this business at the wharf it seems very much like thieves work.


    Theres truth in that. I wont force you to take part, Majid, if you wish to sit this one out.


    Thank you, master, Majid spoke in relief.


    Of course, if you did join, youd get your share of the spoils, Jawad remarked casually as he sat down, putting on his boots.


    Spoils?


    I was thinking a hundred birds for this. Yours alone.


    Majid licked his lips. A hundred pieces of silver for one nights work?


    Jawad rose, picking up a copper ring from the table to ce it on his finger, whichpleted his transformation from alhajin of Almudaina to a respectable citizen of Alczar. But if you feel the work is beneath you


    Im in, Majid hastened to say.


    A smile crept over Jawads face. Good. Tomorrow at noon.


    ~~~~


    Returning to the streets, Jawad moved at a leisurely pace. He had time to stop and eat a meal before going to the great market. He crossed through it, ignoring the hawkers seeking his attention. Noticing that most fabric had been sold already, he continued with a satisfied smile.


    His path took him to a door that had a curious symbol carved into it, denoting that an alchemist lived inside. Taking a deep breath, Jawad knocked.


    The door opened to reveal a bald, elderly man with a wild beard. He wore a robe with burn marks and plenty of stains. You! I havent seen you in a long time.


    Thats because I havent needed your help in a long time.


    Confusion took a dance across the alchemists face before he lit up in a smile. That makes sense. Come inside!


    Jawad followed the man inside. His abode was typical for his upation. The main room of the building had a bed where patients might be examined or treated; a table stood with the tools of his trade, and shelves along the walls held the ingredients that made up the secrets of his craft.


    I need something thatll light a fire quickly and reliably, Jawad exined. Small enough to carry in my pockets.


    The alchemist turned towards his shelves. He frowned in thought, crossed his eyes, took a deep sniff, ran his tongue across his teeth, and finally picked out two small sks. He turned around to face Jawad, holding a con in each hand. This, he said, shaking one container, is a cat. And this, he continued, shaking the other, is a dog.


    You  you dont mean that in a literal way, I hope.


    Apart, they are friendly. You can pet them and y with them.


    Jawad coughed. Yes?


    Put them together, you have a fight! Within a moment, fire shall blossom that cannot die, the alchemist promised.


    Excellent. Jawad extended his hand, receiving the sks. You want payment, I presume?


    The old man nced around his workshop. Yes, he replied with an absent mind.


    Jawads hands made a circr motion, encouraging the other man to continue. Yes? How much?


    A cat is six silver, a dog is nine. The alchemist wrinkled his forehead in contemtion. Twelve falcons.


    Jawad stared for a moment. Oh, twelve silvers. For a moment, I thought you wanted me to fetch you twelve actual birds.


    This is not an aviary, came the offended response.


    Jawad counted out twelve silver pieces; some had the falcon symbol of Alczar, others the eagle of Adalmearc. When done, he ced them in two stacks on the nearby table. Pleasure as always. He waited until he had left the building before letting his exasperation show. Once he had finished rolling his eyes, he went east.


    ~~~~


    It was afternoon when Jawad returned to the eastern docks. Dressed as a citizen rather than alhajin, nobody recognised that he had spent the morning working with the daybourers. At a casual pace, he strolled along the piers, exchanging pleasantries with the sailors disembarking their ships. Every now and then, his path took him north towards the wharf, and each time, he took notice of the guards, constantly gathering in groups and scattering in pairs. Every time he had passed by, Jawad made sure to turn back and walk to the southern part of the harbour, waiting a while before he returned.


    When the sun began to sink towards the horizon, he found something to eat in a tavern. The mood was good if rowdy, as was always the case where sailors congregated. Whether they had just returned ashore or enjoyed ast outing before embarking tomorrow, all of them made the most of their time onnd. Jawad did not seem troubled, on the contrary; he made many a jest, yed dice for coppers and lost with a smile. When one of hispanions mysteriously seemed to have lost the silver in his pocket, Jawad graciously bought his next round.


    As it grew dark outside, Jawad dered his intention to leave, much to the dismay of his newfoundpanions. They implored him to stay; the night was still young. After many exmations of friendship and brotherhood, he finally managed to escape the tavern.


    At this hour, all the hojon working as daybourers were gone; thewmanded they returned to Almudaina before sunset. The merchants, their clerks, warehouse overseers, and other servants had likewise retreated for the night; the gate into the city would be shut soon.


    This did not seem to trouble Jawad; he turned away from the gate towards the wharf. He was dressed in dark blue colours that matched the night sky; once he moved away from the fires andmps burning here and there on the docks, he was near invisible.


    The same could not be said for the guards, patrolling in pairs; a spear in one hand, they each had a torch in the other, illuminating their presence at all time. With a smile hidden by darkness, Jawad crouched low and let his eyes measure his path forward.


    There was no clear separation where the wharf began. At some point, the piers and warehouses of the docks stopped, and the first signs of shipbuilding began. Piles of materialsy on the ground with the asional box of smaller tools. Here and there stood machinery, toorge to be moved around and thus built on the spot, helping shape the great nks of timber. Some buildings stood near the city walls, including a few lean-tos actually touching the stonework. Rain was scarce during the summer months, bute winter, certain materials and tools needed to be sheltered. Keeping his eyes on the flickering mes moving around in the night, Jawad began his approach.


    He moved with slow steps and silent footfall. Sneaking forward, his first destination was the pile of timber that he had helped diminish earlier. Constantly, his eyes darted in every direction, keeping track of the guards. Once he reached his first stop, hey down between some of the logs, hiding himself. Moments passed until he heard footsteps and saw the scattered light from a pair of torches. Words were exchanged as well, spoken by bored voices.


    Patiently, Jawad waited until footsteps, lights, and voices were gone. When all was quiet, he slowly raised his body until he could survey his surroundings. Once his eyes gave the same message as his ears, he continued rising up, careful not to touch any of the surrounding wood. Having not made a sound, he crept forward.


    In this manner, he moved from one hiding spot to another, always taking his time and waiting before continuing. At length, he reached the small buildings that housed the ship supplies. They had a lock, of course; Jawad smiled seeing this and pulled out a few lock picks. A dance followed where he spent a few moments working on the lock before noticing guards approaching, forcing him to hide; the city wall was amodating to his needs, casting deep shadows where he could stay unseen. It took him several of these small trips back and forth before the lock clicked open and he could slip inside.


    The interior was entirely ck; the building had no windows, Jawad had not brought any light, and he had closed the door entirely behind him. Instead, he let his fingers do the seeing, fumbling his way through everything. His hands found a barrel first; opening the lid, he stuck one hand down only to pull it out with a hiss. It contained nothing but nails. He continued his investigation of the room; given its small size, it was quickly done. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door and listened intently before creeping outside. Quickly, he locked the door again and disappeared into the shadows, moving to the next building.


    He followed the same procedure for two more buildings until he found his target. Kept dry and safe from vermin, great bundles of sailclothy ready to be hoisted onto masts and carry ships forward. Jawad smiled briefly in the dark before leaving the small storehouse, leaving no trace of his presence.


    Having found his quarry, Jawad did not return. Instead, he continued in the same direction as before, moving away from the piers and deeper into the wharf. His method did not change, hiding in a half-built ship or between hewn rocks intended as bast. Step by step, he avoided the guards until he had passed through the entire wharf and reached the empty coastline thaty north.


    With a satisfied expression, Jawad rxed and continued. When he reached a solitary tree, he sat down with his back against its trunk and slept through the remaining hours of the night.

 Chapter 157: Fires in the Night

    Chapter 157: Fires in the Night


    At noon, the thief, the champion, and the knight met in the same ce as before. Yawning a few times, Jawad pointed at the table. Dress yourself, he told Brand. Get rid of all your shiny metal bits.


    My sword stays, he replied curtly. But I have brought leather strips to cover the hilt and pommel.


    Youre not entirely fresh in the. Jawad smiled sardonically.


    As I mentioned, this will not be my first nightly raid. Removing his chain shirt, Brand donned a dark leather tunic in its ce.


    You have a n, master? asked Majid. He had already dressed himself in colours simr to Jawad.


    Several, in fact, but we should only need one. If I recall, you are a strong swimmer, right?


    I am, Majid nodded.


    And given your background, I assume youre good with horses, Jawad added, aimed at Brand.


    Indeed.


    Very good. I hate the beasts myself, but theres no denying they make for a speedy escape. You can both rest easy  Ill do all the hard parts, Jawad smiled.


    Even so, would you care to enlighten us? asked Brand, who was not smiling.


    Of course. Youll have a task fitting your gifts, Jawad dered. Youll be waiting with the horses for our escape. I assume thats within your capabilities. Brands face twitched, but he did not respond. Ill sneak inside and set the sails ame.


    And my part? asked Majid.


    Getting in will be easy enough, but once those mes start burning, Ill need a distraction to escape.


    My task, I assume. How?


    Jawad nodded. The best distraction from a fire is a bigger one. Youll start one by the harbour south of the wharf, giving me the opportunity to escape north.


    We cannot set the whole city on fire! Brand protested. The loss of life is unthinkable!


    We wont burn down the city, Jawad said dismissively. There are warehouses by the pier, which will serve our purpose nicely. The wall will keep it from spreading to the city, and theres plenty of water nearby to put the fire out.


    Brand stared at the rogue. Is that the truth or simply what you think I wish to hear?


    If thetter, Im hardly going to admit it, am I, Jawad replied with annoyance. Destroying the sails is your idea, Harun. He spoke the name with a sneer. Im the one actually making it possible.


    You need not be concerned, Majid told Brand. Itll be me setting the fire. I will not do it if there is any chance that it could spread to the city. On my honour, he swore.


    Brands eyes moved back and forth between the two. I wouldnt trust such words from him, he dered, but I will trust yours. Very well.


    If you are done insulting me, Jawad remarked dryly, Id like to finish. Hearing no objections, he continued. Once youve created a distraction, jump into the sea and swim north. Ill set my own fire once yours has dragged the guards away and make my own way north as well. Well meet up further along the coastline, where you wait with horses. He nodded towards Brand. We ride through the night, putting distance between ourselves and the harbour, and enter the city through the northern gate tomorrow morning.


    I suppose that sounds simple enough, Brand granted.


    Ill do my part, Majid imed.


    We should get to it. Harun, Jawad spoke, smiling as he pronounced the name, well go with you and procure the horses. Once youre sent on your way, Majid and I will go to the harbour, spending a pleasant day before tonights work.


    Is it safe to leave our belongings here? I dont wish to return and find my armour gone. Brand nodded towards his chain shirt lying on the table.


    Jawadughed. Trust me, those who know of this ce, also know better.


    Lets be on our way, then, Brand dered.


    After you, Harun, Jawad smirked.


    ~~~~


    Once Brand had been sent on his way with horses, Jawad and Majid made their way to the eastern docks. They did not seem to have any aim in mind, walking and talking casually. Majids demeanour only grew serious for a short moment when they approached a specific warehouse while Jawad mumbled a few instructions to him; for his part, Jawad was smiling andughing without interruption.


    They spent the rest of the afternoon with a meal, watching the ships and sailors of the docks. Every now and then, a galley would return from patrolling the seas, elegantly gliding into the harbour; once close enough, the oars would pull in, ropes would be thrown onto the pier, and the ship would be moored. While the sailors took care of these details, a contingent of mamluks would disembark, marching with perfect discipline to their barracks in the city.


    After a while, the same story would y out, only in reverse. Apany of mamluks would appear, marching through the gate to embark a galley. The sailors would unmoor the ship and set it into motion. Once free from the harbour, the oars woulde out, pulled by numerous ves, and the ship would sail east or south in search of pirates.


    As the day waned, Jawad finished his evening tea. Time for me to leave, he dered. Make sure you wait. I cant move until itspletely dark, and Ill need an hour at least before Im ready.


    Majid gave a nod. I shall, master. See you on the other side.


    Jawad smiled. See you there.


    He emptied his cup and left. In the dying light of the day, he strolled around the harbour, watching the hojon. With weary steps, they trod through the docks, making their way back to Almudaina before the gates were locked for the night. The guards kept sharp watch, making sure none broke away. Jawad patted his pockets, feeling the small alchemical sks inside. With a deep breath, Jawad turned his back on the hojon and his attention towards the wharf.


    ~~~~


    As night fell, nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the eastern docks. There was the usual noise and traffic of sailors seeking drink and entertainment along with the sounds and shouts of the locals offering either. The many galleys meant plenty of soldiers traversed the harbour as well. Even if not on duty or patrolling, their presence had a calming effect on the worst excesses, and brawls were rare; or at least, they were less frequent than on the western docks.


    When the night sky had the same colour as his clothes, Jawad crept into position. Following the same method asst, he moved undetected deeper into the wharf, staying hidden as needed. As he already knew exactly where to go, he reached his destination fasterpared tost time. Simrly, he was already acquainted with the lock on the storage door; within moments, it opened up.


    He did not enter; as the building had no windows, it would be impossible to see when Majid had done his part. Instead, Jawad remained hidden outside, asionally stretching his limbs or neck in his hiding spot.


    Time passed, as did the guards. Each time, Jawad moved a little further into the shadows between the city wall and the storage; each time, the watchers continued without suspecting anything. None of them ever checked the locks on any of the buildings; they had never had reason to do so before.


    The calm atmosphere was shattered without warning. mes rose against the air to the south, sending grey smoke towards the sky. Voices crying out in rm were carried by the wind. Panicked, the guards ran southwards. Waiting a while, Jawad crept around the storage building to enter it quickly. From his pockets, he withdrew the cons purchased from the alchemist. He opened them one after the other and poured their contents onto the sailcloth. A loud hiss ensued, followed by mes. Wasting no further time, Jawad got out. He left the door open, allowing air to feed the greedy fire, and hurried away northwards.


    ~~~~


    After Jawad left him, Majid remained a while at the tavern, having another cup. His brusque countenance and the short sword by his side dissuaded any from approaching him, letting him drink his tea in peace. When it was dark and the tavern became crowded with other patrons, Majid finally rose to his feet and left. He walked aimlessly around the harbour, waiting while more and more stars appeared on the firmament. Once the night sky was full of lights, he changed direction, moving with purpose.


    He reached the small warehouse that Jawad had pointed out to him earlier. Ity secluded to some extent with the city wall to one side and open road to the other. Choosing the former side, Majid stepped in between stone and wood. From one pocket, he withdrew a jar and let it pour onto the warehouse wall. The smell revealed it to bemp oil.


    Jawad had reserved the alchemical aid for himself; Majid had only ordinary flint to start a fire with. He began striking the stone, trying to cause a spark, when a voice called out. Whats going on down there? Majid nced up and saw a guard on the city wall, staring back at him. Hey, what are you doing? the guard asked. Majids response was to strike the flint more frantically. Stop! yelled the watchman. Men, down there! A thief!


    Atst, the sparks caught themp oil. Fire burst forth, devouring the soaked wood. It illuminated Majids face, showing his relief that quickly turned to fear. Alerted by the guards on the walls, others were running towards his position, shouting and drawing more attention.


    Setting into a sprint, Majid fled the scene. As soon as he came into the open, he was spotted by the approaching watchmen.


    Fire, fire! some yelled.


    Over there, hes running! came another.


    His despair obvious, Majid ran across the streets, seeking to hide among the other buildings of the district. While most people in the vicinity moved towards the fire, many of the guards would not be deterred, and they set after him in pursuit.


    The further Majid ran, the more he became trapped. Each time he reached a new street, he found people advancing on him. He slipped between buildings, jumped over barrels and toppled them behind him, changed directions, and did anything else he could to escape his pursuers. None of it availed him.


    Finally, he reached edge of the harbour; only the seay ahead him. He ran along its length, attracting further attention, shouts, and vile gestures as he pushed people aside. When the way ahead was barred by spears, he turned to run down one of the piers. Reaching its end, he jumped into the waters without hesitation.


    Hes jumped! Hes in the water! Get some boats! With powerful strokes, Majid swam north-east; behind him, boats were lowered from the nearest galleys with guards and mamluks at the oars. Against the night sky, the fire raged on.


    ~~~~


    Further up the shore, where the sand turned to rocks, Brand waited with three horses. They were all of dark colours and tied to a tree; as for Brand, he stood upon an outcropping, giving him a vantage point of the bay and its coastline. Above his head, the moon traversed the sky as the only marker of time.


    Tranquillity was finally broken deep into the night. Even from afar, he could see the mes devouring the warehouse, but little else. The wharf was close enough that he could hear the outcry in response; as the moon appeared from behind a cloud, its light allowed him to discern figures in the distance, running about.


    Crouched on the rock, tension gripped his body. His hands were balled into fists, and his eyes constantly scouted the horizon. Yet despite being ready to spring into action, all he did was wait as assigned.


    Harun, Jawad called out, sending a start through the other man, whose hand was already on his sword hilt as he spun around. Only me, Jawad grinned. All done. And my horse is ready, I see.


    You torched the sailcloth?


    I did. Not with a torch, but same result.


    Good. We need only wait for Majid then.


    An expression ran across Jawads face. Not for long.


    Brand frowned. This was your n.


    And it was a good one, Jawad defended himself. We hit our mark as intended. Its on Majids shoulders now to make his escape. We cant hang around forever.


    Brand looked down with disdain on the shorter man. So youre ready to abandon him? Your own man, who is only in a trouble because he ensured your escape?


    We all had our part to do, Jawad replied curtly. Seeing as your task involved no danger at all, you shouldnt be quick to judge. I did all the hard work here.


    That does not mean we abandon one of ourpanions to his fate!


    Jawad gave an overbearing sigh. I thought you were a knight. Have you never ordered men into battle, to their death?


    Brand clenched his jaw. That is a different matter.


    In your eyes, Im sure it is.


    They were interrupted by shouts in the distance. Torches carried by men were moving up the beach along the wharf. Lights could also be seen out at sea, illuminating small boats.


    What is happening, Brand mumbled.


    Hes being pursued, Jawad dered with the confidence of a rogue familiar with such circumstances. Theyre spreading out along the beach, making sure he cant swim ashore without being caught.


    Then we have to help him.


    Jawad gave hispanion an incredulous look. Theres dozens of armed men down there.


    I am not arguing that we should fight them all, simply that we must help him escape them.


    Friend, Ive been a thief twice as long as youve been alive, I wager. Ive escaped certain death more than once, and I can tell you, theres no escaping from that beach.


    Perhaps not for a thief. Fortunately for Majid, I am a knight.


    Jawad made a throat sound resembling chokedughter. Be my guest. As for me, I believe one of those horses is waiting to take me away from here. He turned around, walking over to untie one of them. Bloody beast, he mumbled, getting into the saddle without his usual grace. As Brand stared on the beach, the Prince of Cats rode away.


    ~~~~


    Majid swam for his life. Boats were nearby, staying alert for the sound of his movements, forcing him to swim under the water. Each time he came up for air, he looked around to gain his bearings; every time, the sight of soldiers on the beach awaited him. He had no recourse but to take another deep breath and dive once more.


    Being forced underwater had caused him significant dy; it had taken him near an hour to clear the harbour ande this far up the coast, and he had still not passed the wharf. At this speed, it would take him far longer to swim past the beach and reach the rocks with Brand and the horses.


    Majid swam onwards. Each stroke brought him a little closer. He continued the process that had brought him this far  deep breaths of air and a quick look to determine his course followed by a long stretch under the water. Breathe, swim.


    His luck did notst. Swimming in the dark underwater, the boats were as invisible to him as he was to them. Coming up for air, he found himself right next to his pursuers. He dove as soon as he realised this, but a spear had already been thrust against him. It pierced his leather tunic and gave him a wound.


    He swam onwards, but soon, his strokes came with less fervour. He had already spent much of his strength swimming along a curved path, since being blind underwater kept him from swimming in a straight line. The next time he surfaced, forced by his need to breathe, his eyes darted between two ces. Ahead in the darky the rocky coast and his escape; to his left was the sandy beach and his capture. Treading waters, Majid faced the inevitable conclusion forced by his loss of strength. After greedy breathing, he dove and swam left.


    His new course had the advantage of leaving the boats behind; they continued northwards in their search, giving him a little more room. Approaching the beach, this advantage disappeared. He dove once more, avoiding the careful gazes from the watchmen ashore. This alsosted only a short while; when his swimming strokes touched the seafloor, Majid abandoned his subterfuge. Rising to his feet, shivering from the cold with a bloody shoulder and a short sword by his side, he began to run.


    His speed was slow at first, trying to sprint through water that reached his knees. When he hade far enough that it receded to his ankles, he was also discovered. I see him! Over here! came the shout. Muttering a curse, Majid saw the guards gathering, trying to close spears and keep him from escaping.


    Majid was a champion of the sands. He had more training with the short sword in his hand than all his opponents put together. But they wielded spears, they were not exhausted, and they could encircle him from all sides. Using their reach, they jabbed at him constantly. Majid could do nothing but parry their attacks and turn the spearheads aside with his de; each time he might consider advancing on one enemy, he was forced to protect himself from another.


    The sound of a galloping horse made Majid spin around, ready to defend against another foe. It was not needed. Making his horse rear, Brand used its hooves to knock one guard to the ground while his de shed another. Grabbing the reins with his sword hand, Brand turned his horse around to extend his free arm towards Majid. Hurry!


    Grabbing hold of Majid, Brand swung him onto the back of his horse and kicked his heels in. The beast did asmanded, setting into a swift trot.


    The spears wielded by the guards were not javelins, but they served well enough at close range. Several came flying through the air. Struck, the horse tumbled to the ground, forcing the same fate upon its riders. Drawing swords, the guards did not hesitate; before Brand could recover from the fall, the tip of a de was pressed against his throat. To his side, he saw the same happen to hispanion.


    We surrender, Majid dered hoarsely. With triumphant grins, the guards collected their weapons. Soon, they began their return to the city along with their two prisoners.

 Chapter 158: The Tower of Justice

    Chapter 158: The Tower of Justice


    It was dawn by the time the guards reached the Tower of Justice with their captives. As they crossed the maswar, the empty square was contrasted by the imposing structure looming above their heads. They entered the tower and found the entire ground floor was one hall. A score of guards sat scattered around the locale, passing the time. There was also a simple cooking hearth, where a pot boiled merrily.


    Get the night warden, said one of the arriving guards. One of his peers got up and walked down the few stairs.


    Bit of a fight in them? asked another. He nodded towards Majids wounded shoulder.


    More than that. This one tried to swim away!


    Dispersedughter was heard. Thats a new one!


    It didnt work, someone grinned.


    A man appeared from the stairs below. He was dressed as a clerk with expensive clothing rather than a soldier, having no weapons. What do you have? he asked, approaching the newly arrived guards and their prisoners. Couple of thieves?


    Not quite, sidi. This one was found setting fire to a warehouse. The guard speaking gestured to Majid. The other one tried to help him escape.


    How bad is it? Has the fire spread?


    It was on the eastern docks. Wall kept it from reaching the city.


    Thank the gods for that, at least. The warden scrutinised them both. Your names? he asked. Neither responded. Do you know the penalty for starting fires? Silence. Well, if you wont talk to me, others will make you talk. Throw them in a cell, and keep them on separate floors. Ill send a message to the judge.


    ~~~~


    Due to its height, the Tower of Justice had many cells; in fact, more than was ever needed. The top floors were never in use; the only purpose of the height was to ensure the tower was visible throughout the city, reminding all of the Kabirs rule. The criminals kept in the prison never stayed for long either. Usually the day after arriving, a judge would hear the case against them and pass sentence. Those found guilty were executed, maimed, or sent to the galleys ording to their crime. In any case, they would leave the tower.


    With a chain around his ankle, Brand sat on the floor of his cell. Hay was strewn across the stonework to provide minimalfort, which he had gathered to himself, making a primitive seat of sorts. Unlike most prisons, since the cells in the Tower of Justice were above ground, there was a small window with bars providing fresh air and light from the outside world. Apart from that peculiarity, Brands amodations were much the same as when he had been imprisoned in Middanhal.


    ustomed to rough quarters and having been up all night, Brand was able to fall asleep soon after his incarceration. It onlysted a few hours before a guard opened his cell door and dragged him to his feet. With not only wrists but also ankles chained, forcing him to take small steps, Brand was led down the spiral staircase below ground and into a well-furnished room.


    A man sat behind a table with a writing set and parchment in front of him. His exquisite clothing and jewellery left no doubt that he was a man of certain rank. The guard pushed Brand down upon a stool in front of the table. The prisoner, sidi.


    The judge looked up from the parchment. Your name?


    Brand stared into the air with a clenched jaw.


    Starting a fire is a far worse crime than theft, in case you did not know, the judge informed him. I am told it was yourpanion who did the actual deed, and you merely assisted in his escape. Without sess, he added dryly. I am willing to show leniency if you deserve it.


    Brand showed no sign of having understood.


    Your fellow criminal has already confessed in full. You gain nothing by refusing to speak.


    Brands lips were shut.


    The judge leaned forward, cing his elbows on the table. You understand that your life is in my hands? I would encourage you to speak rather than show me such disrespect.


    Brand remained silent.


    Very well. I sentence you to the galleys. Take him to his cell. The judge made a dismissive wave with his hand, returning his attention to the papers in front of him to scribble his judgement upon one of them.


    ~~~~


    Soon after, Majid was taken before the judge as well. Your name?


    Majid, sidi. He continued with a quiet voice. Please, have mercy. I am but a stray cat, unaware of the custom of princes.


    The judge sent Majid a quick nce. Would you fetch me some tea? he asked the guard, yawning. I did not sleep muchst night.


    Of course, sidi, if you dont mind being alone with the prisoner.


    With arms and legs chained, I will be fine. The judge made a dismissive gesture, and the guard left. He looked at Majid again. You understand that if you invoke the Princes name in vain, it will not help you. He will have you killed.


    I know, sidi. I swear that I am his servant. I was told to mention him discreetly, should I ever find myself in this chamber, Majid exined.


    The judge nodded. Yes, and if this weremon theft, something could easily be arranged. But this is arson. I must sentence you to the galleys, or it will arouse suspicion. Seeing panic sh across Majids face, he raised one hand. But word shall be sent to your master. He will arrange for your freedom. Until then, keep your mouth shut and be patient. Understood?


    Yes, sidi, Majid eximed with relief.


    What of yourpanion? Is he to receive aid same as you?


    Majid hesitated. No, sidi. He does not run with the Prince.


    Very well. The judge began scribbling on the parchment before him. Momentster, the door opened, but it did not reveal the guard. Instead, two men entered in yellow livery with a falcon emblem.


    Sidi? asked the judge. One of them crossed the room to whisper into the judges ear. Very well. As youmand. He looked at Majid. You must go with these men. The men in yellow grabbed the prisoner under the shoulders and pulled him to stand, taking him away.


    ~~~~


    Although the life of a galley ve awaited him, Brand did not seem weighed down by this. He sat as before, back against the wall, staring out the small window. Sunlight reached between the bars, illuminating his space. While his thumb ran over the leather string around his neck, his other hand yed with a few straws, pushing them in and out of the sunbeams, watching their yellow colour intensify.


    A guard entered, pulling him to his feet. Once more, Brand was escorted down the stairs; this time, he was only taken to the ground floor. Majid was already there. They exchanged looks, but nothing more. Besides the manacles around their wrists and ankles, a blindfold was added.


    Guards on either side of them ced a hand on their shoulders, leading them outside. Their awkward gait andck of vision made them stumble more than once; their watchers onlyughed at this before ushering them forward.


    Outside, they were roughly grabbed under the shoulders and thrown onto a cart. Brand gave a gasp as Majidnded on top of him, knocking the wind from him. Grinning, the guards pulled them apart and ced them to sit on the bottom of the cart. This aplished, the driver set the draught animal into motion.


    They bumped through Alczar on cobbled streets. With the blindfold, the prisoners could only deduce the sun warming their bodies and the sounds of the city waking around them. Childrenughed as they passed, but otherwise they drew no attention; a couple of prisoners under guard was of little interest to the people hurrying up and down the streets, busy with their own errands.


    The journeysted more than an hour before the cart came to a halt. They had left the street by now; their surroundings were too quiet to be anywhere public. The prisoners were hauled down from the wagon in the same rough manner as before. The guards led them out of the sun, indoors. They went through long hallways and down staircases. The air grew stale and filled with unpleasant smells. Their hair bristled from the coldness of their surroundings.


    Right here, said a high-pitched voice. Keys jangled and turned locks. Hands grabbed their chains, and the prisoners were pressed up against stonewalls. They each felt their arms and legs spreading to the sides, pulled by the shackles. Finally, the blindfolds were torn away.


    Brand blinked several times. He found himself chained against the wall in an upright position. There was no ck upon the restraints, forcing him to stand spread out, unable to move any of his limbs. To his side, Majid was in the same position. In front of them stood a rat of a man, grinning from ear to ear. Wee! I am Imad, your host. They were in a cell of sorts, small and empty besides the captives and Imad. Please wait here. My master will be with you shortly to exin. He turned and left the cell, entering arger room beyond. Stretching his neck, Brand could see a table with various vicious-looking knives upon it, a rack, and other devices of pain.


    Where are we? Majid asked with a whisper.


    I can only think of one ce with dungeons besides the Tower of Justice, Brand muttered, keeping his voice low as well. This must be the Kabirs pce.


    Gods, no, Majid breathed.


    Save your prayers. Nothing will help us now, Brand told him. In the other room, Imad began sharpening his tools.

 Chapter 159: Prisoner

    Chapter 159: Prisoner


    The Kabir of Alczar was lord of the city and its highest authority in all matters. His rule was undisputed, as long as trade flowed; when that was the case, all the merchant houses bent to his will, paid tribute, and supplied him with all he needed. Should the opposite ever happen, he would be in danger of being deposed; the very thing he had done to his own father, the previous Kabir, when Alczar had been weakened by costly wars and dwindling trade. The greatest trading houses had thrown their support behind the ambitious young prince, letting him dethrone his father and consolidate his power. Their belief had not been unfounded; with rapid expansion of the fleet and decisive victories over Labdah, the Kabir had sealed Alczars position as the dominant power of the Mydlonde Sea.


    Now, he strode into the dungeons of his pce. His silken garbs and jewellery stood a stark contrast to the sinister surroundings, but the Kabir seemed at ease regardless. The scent of perfume followed him, fighting to banish the smell of sweat and blood that over centuries had bled into the walls. His two favourite sons were already present; as soon as they saw their father, both Saif and Jalil snapped to attention. The Kabirs mamluk guards did not enter with him, taking position outside the doors.


    Leave. The order was directed at the simpering Imad, who disappeared. The Kabir turned his attention on his sons instead. Do you know of the firest night? Both of them shook their heads. A warehouse on the docks. It turned out to be a ruse, allowing another fire to be set on our shipyard.


    The ships? asked Saif, the eldest.


    Untouched. They torched our stores of sailcloth.


    A minor setback, but we have cloth to rece it, do we not? asked Jalil. His fingers ced with the pommel of his sword; he was the only one who walked around armed.


    It will take a month at least, by which time, winter storms will have begun on the Outer Sea. My ns are severely disrupted, which is no coincidence. Each word was spoken calmly, but with an icy tone. These men are northern spies, and I want their entire ring stamped out.


    Of course, Father, Jalil bowed his head.


    How do you wish for us to proceed? asked Saif.


    I want you to take charge of the ck priests, the Kabir dered, directed at Saif. Figure out who act on their behalf and have them all rounded up. When nothing further can be gleaned, have the priests arrested as well.


    Yes, Father.


    What of my task, Father? asked Jalil eagerly.


    The Kabir nodded towards the cell where Brand and Majid stood chained. These are the men who set the fire. I want to know all their aplices. You are in charge of their interrogation.


    I shall discern their every secret, Jalil promised with a superior smile.


    The one with blue eyes is most likely the ringleader and a northern spy. The other seems to be a native who was hired for the task. Maybe others were hired as well. I want to learn the full extent of their activities, the Kabir stressed.


    You shall, Father.


    Deal swiftly with the henchman. He knows the least, and I doubt he is of much value. Be more careful with the northerner and make sure hests. He may have useful knowledge about many matters in the North, the Kabir instructed.


    Very well, Father.


    The Kabir turned to a table upon whichy two swords. These are their weapons. The shorter sword is ordinary, but this He picked up Brands sword, pulling away the leather strips that hid its pommel jewel. This was taken from the northerner. He pulled the de a few inches, revealing the sea-steel. Metal unlike any other. This is a weapon for a king, not a spy, which is further proof that he could be the leader of these spies that gue our city.


    Jalil extended a hand. As I am interrogating the prisoners, I should hold on to this sword.


    Father said it was a sword for a king. You are delusional if you think yourself worthy of it, Saif remarked.


    At least I can wield it properly, Jalil replied with a superior attitude.


    The Kabir looked at each of his sons in turn. Whoever handles this matter best may have the sword as a reward, he told them. The poets will smile seeing themander of my armies fighting the northerners wielding this de. While his sons exchanged nces, the Kabir turned on his heel and walked out of the room.


    Jalil turned his head to look at Saif. You better hurry, Brother. You have a lot of threads to disentangle.


    Yes, Father gave you the simpler task. Equal to your abilities, Saif smirked. He left quickly as well.


    Imad.


    From the doorway, the warden peered inside. Sidi?


    Get in here, you rat, Jalilmanded, and the torturer scuttled inside. Begin your work. Start with the ck-skinned man, and break him quickly. Soften the blue-eyed bastard meanwhile. I will be back tonight.


    Yes, sidi, Imad replied subserviently. His eyes gleamed as he turned towards the prisoners.


    ~~~~


    Majid woke as someone gently pped his cheek. Opening his eyes, he stared down into Imads face.


    Its time to begin, the shorter man announced cheerfully. Lets get you ready. He used a knife to cut Majids tunic open, revealing the skin underneath with its scars. Impressive! Imad touched one of them tentatively. You must be a warrior, maybe a mamluk? I imagine you can endure a lot.


    Majid spat at him. Do your worst, fiend.


    Imad carefully wiped his face with a bloodied rag. I intend to do my best. I am not a novice. He stuffed the rag into Majids mouth. For instance, this will keep you from hurting your tongue while I work on you. He leaned closer. It wouldnt do if you had trouble speaking when my master returns, he said with a quiet voice and a glimmer in his eyes.


    Majid made a response, though it was not understandable.


    Imad let his fingers run over the pendant hanging around Majids neck. This is important to you, no doubt. You may keep this  for now. He smiled. See, I do not wish to start too harshly. You should have something to cling onto. You will be surprised how important it can be to have just a little piece, a little memory as a doorway to another time. Imad ran his tongue over his teeth. When that is all a prisoner has left, all they cling to, that is when I take it. The look of despair is exquisite. I am no novice, no. What is the purpose of all this pain but to break the mind?


    He looked towards his other prisoner. You have one as well, I see. Imad nced at the knotted leather string around Brands neck. I have seen such before. A token given by a womans hand  no doubt precious to you? He gave a sly smile and turned around to face his tools. He had already lit the coals in the brazier, which was heating up the room.


    Licking his lips slowly, Imad finally chose a knife and ced it in the brazier. He looked over his shoulder at Majid. Normally I would go much slower, he exined, sounding apologetic. This is not something to be rushed. s, the masters want you ready soon, very soon. He looked at Brand and gave a smile. Dont worry, I will take my time with you. Brand did not acknowledge hearing him. With a careful motion, Imad picked up the heated knife and walked over to Majid. I had a fun idea. Why make new scars when the old ones make such a beautiful pattern?


    He pressed the knife against Majids chest, and the red-hot metal seared his skin. The smell of burning flesh spread while Majid screamed through his gag. By his side, Brand averted his eyes.


    ~~~~


    The Kabirs harem made up a sizeable part of his pce. Most of his wives were born to the greatest merchant houses of Alczar or from the other South Cities, confirming alliances and ensuring peaceful rtions. Many of them shared rooms; only his favourite wives had their own quarters. All of these chambers were luxuriously decorated, further demonstrating privilege and importance among the Kabirs court.


    In one room sat a woman near forty. Even in the privacy of her own chamber, she was exquisitely dressed and wore borate hair. Shey on a divan, a custom she had brought with her from her home. Her gaze was locked upon Jalil, standing in front of her. Tell me exactly what your father said.


    Jalil cleared his throat. He said that whoever found the spies would receive the sword and wield it whilemanding his armies against the northerners.


    She watched him with half-closed eyelids. There is no doubt in your mind this is what he meant?


    None, Mother.


    Her eyes strayed, staring into the empty air. He must be furious to offer such a reward for the capture of these spies.


    He seemed calm, under the circumstances, Jalil remarked.


    She snapped her head back to look at him again. He always does, but he is most susceptible to frustration when his ns are disrupted. Trust me, the thought of his fleet being dyed fills him with gall.


    Jalil inclined his head. You know best, Mother.


    She ran her eyes over him. If youmand his armies to victory in the North, you are guaranteed to be his sessor. Who knows? Perhaps the session will evene sooner than anticipated.


    His eyes shone upon hearing her words. You think so?


    I am not lying idle in this chamber, she told him with gentle chastisement. Your father is pushing his luck with these wars. They are expensive and disruptive for trade.


    I have not heard anyints?


    She gave an overbearing smile, showing the family resemnce. Of course not. Never mind. You have your own task. You are already the better warriorpared to Saif  it is imperative you seed in this and win your fathers approval. Once you lead his armies, you will bring victory, and everything shall fall into ce.


    I shall, Mother. The prisoners are being tortured as we speak. I will begin interrogation soon.


    Do not tarry. The sooner you bring your father results, the better, she instructed him with a stern voice.


    Yes, Mother.


    ~~~~


    In the dungeons, Majid hung forward from the wall. He was only upright because his chains kept him standing. Imad stood right in front of him, looking up at his face. Too much for you? Burnsy scattered across Majids skin. Rest a little, my friend, Imad told him cordially. He moved to a corner of the room, which held a curious contraption. Wheels were attached to pulleys holding chains. As Imad began turning the wheels, the shackles moved. Slowly, Majids chains around both ankles and wrists ckened, lowering him to the ground.


    Imad walked over, adjusting Majids position to let him rest with his head against the wall and his legs stretched out rather than crossed underneath him. Finally, he removed the rag from Majids mouth. Standing up, he looked over at Brand. Its important to listen to the signals of the body, Imad lectured him. I am already pushing our friend hard. Now, his mind needs a little sleep. When he wakes up, he will be ready for more. Fortunately, that gives me time to show you some attention as well.


    Brand neither spoke nor looked at Imad.


    Undeterred by theck of a response, the short man went to his tools, selecting a number of long, thin needles. He ced them cautiously between his lips, leaving his hands free except for the rag taken from Majid. Returning to his prisoners, Imad grabbed hold of Brands chin with one hand. Thetter turned his head, trying to break free, but for his stature, Imad was surprisingly strong and easily held onto his victim. He pressed on Brands cheeks to force his mouth open, pushing the gag inside.


    Next, he grabbed Brands right hand. The manacles kept Brand so firmly in ce, it was useless to struggle here as well. Imad closed his grip around one finger and cautiously pulled out one of the needles held between his lips. Slowly, he pushed the thin steel into Brands fingertip, just below the nail. An outburst of pain was heard from Brand, and he tried once more to tear his hand away. He had as little luck as before.


    Imad continued with each finger on Brands hand, applying a needle to each. As he pulled thest from his mouth, he gave a small yelp. Pricked my tongue, he exined. Of course it would happen with thest one. No trouble with five in my mouth, but one left and I hurt myself, he giggled. He scraped his tongue against his teeth. This hurts! You wouldnt believe how painful such a small sting can be. He looked at Brands hand. I suppose you would. He grabbed the remaining finger and pushed the needle in.


    ~~~~


    Most of the Kabirs many children also lived in the harem. Until a certain age, they stayed with their mothers. After that, they shared rooms with their siblings. They would take their meals and be tutored here as well. As they approached adulthood, favoured daughters might receive their own chamber, whereas the sons would move to another part of the pce. They were still allowed ess to the harem that they might visit their family, and it wasmon to see the Kabirs sons entering or leaving.


    The eldest of these, Saif, sat on a sofa next to Jana. Her constant protector, Salim, stood nearby, watchful if rxed in his pose. The room itself wasrge, although more sparsely furnishedpared to the chambers of the Kabirs favourite wives.


    If this task is of such importance, I wonder you even have time to visit me, Jana remarked.


    Saif gave a shrug. I am waiting to hear reports from my sentinels. I imagine that soon, we will be able to seize suspects and unravel the entire spy ring.


    You sound confident, but you still came to me to unburden yourself.


    He gave a wry smile. Perceptive. I am a little worried.


    Why?


    If the sentinels knew anything with certainty, they would have acted already. We know the ck priests are involved, of course, but they are only one link in the chain, and watching them has given us limited sess. I need to bring Father the remaining links, but I fear Jalil has the better position. Eventually, his captives will give him names. Time is limited.


    This all sounds strange in my ears, Jana admitted. Her fingers yed with one of her golden earrings. Your ability to find spies hardly determines whether either you or Jalil is a capablemander. She swept a lock of ck hair behind her ear, looking at her brother.


    Father would be sending other captains as well. But suprememand needs to rest with a member of House al-Saqr, Saif exined. Since he does not intend to go himself, the choice falls upon Jalil or I.


    I wonder why he is staying behind. Jana frowned in contemtion. From what I remember, he has never shied away from going into war himself.


    Saif nced towards Salim, who did not seem to pay them any attention. I think he fears losing control if absent. The Council of Ten are not happy at the prospect of another war. It is they who have paid for many of our new ships being built. Of course, if we wrest control of trade from the Mearcians, it is also they who will profit, he added with a contemptuous smile.


    Why is Father risking this? asked Jana.


    Because he needs new victories to pay the debts of old wars, her brother remarked.


    I fear we will all end up paying those debts.


    The course has been set. We cannot turn this ship around anymore. Saif touched her shoulder with aforting gesture. No matter what happens, you will be safe.


    I know. Nobody has much interest in yet another daughter of the Kabir. At worst, my fate will be the same as Dalias, and I exchange my gilded chamber for another.


    At the mention of their sister left behind in Labdah, Saifs hand fell away. I better take my leave. Those reports must be arriving soon.


    Of course. I hope your hunt goes well.


    Smiling with his mouth closed, Saif nodded to her and left. Once he was gone, Salim finally stirred. He caught Janas attention and gestured towards her.


    I am fine, thank you, but perhaps we can take a stroll tonight. You should rx until then, I will not have other visitors today, I imagine. Borrow my book with al-Tayir, she suggested. It would do you good, reading some poetry.


    The mamluk gave only a wry smile in response.


    ~~~~


    Evening had arrived when Jalil returned to the dungeons, stepping into chambers where night and day were erased. No light was possible but torches,mps, and coals burning in the brazier. Holding scented cloth before his nose, Jalil approached Imad. Is the prisoner ready?


    Yes, sidi, replied the torturer.


    You, scum, Jalil spoke at Majid, who was awake and standing once more with his chains keeping him in ce. Tell me everything you know about the northern spies in the city.


    Majid hung forward, his jaw ck. Im just a messenger. I brought messages, thats all.


    From whom and to whom?


    From the ck-clothed priests. I brought them to Harun.


    I know about the priests, Jalil sneered. Who is Harun?


    He is hanging by my side.


    The prince walked over to stare into Brands face. This is your leader?


    Majid coughed. Hes just a messenger like me.


    Jalils mouth curled with contempt. Then who is? Tell me, you pathetic traitor! Who do you take orders from?


    Something resembling a smile struggled to appear on Majids face. Who knows? He hid his true nature. He could be the Prince of Cats for all I know.


    Jalil pped him across the face. Do not waste my time! I want another name!


    Majid, he whispered.


    Who is he?


    Majid from Alczar. He was a soldier, the prisoner exined. He fought against Labdah at the battle of the bay and was taken captive. He spent ten years as a ve, fighting on the sands.


    Was it him who nned the destruction at the shipyard?


    No, but he was present. He did it for silver and for revenge against the city that abandoned him after he served it loyally.


    Where can he be found? Jalil asked eagerly.


    Majid raised his head with difficulty. You are looking at him, sidi. He hissed the final word.


    Confusion was reced by anger on Jalils face. He sent a knee into Majids groin, who gasped in pain and lost his footing; there was an unpleasant sound as the chains around his wrists kept him from falling down.


    Jalil turned towards Imad. Clearly, he is not ready for interrogation yet.


    My apologies, sidi. I try to hurry, but this is a delicate art best progressed slowly. I can only guarantee the truth if I am given time to understand his body and mind, how far he can be pushed.


    Understand this, you little creep, Jalil spat. I will return tomorrow, and I expect him to cooperate.


    Of course, sidi.


    Meanwhile, step up your work with him. Jalil nodded towards Brand.


    The exalted Kabir told me to be careful


    I am telling you now! I want him to spill the truth, or you can take his ce.


    Yes, sidi. Imad bowed low while Jalil left the dungeons. The torturer turned towards the prisoners. I really do hate being so blunt about it. Theres just no art to it. I suppose its straight to the de. He sighed and walked over, cing a knife in the brazier.


    ~~~~


    Outside the pce, it was night; in the dungeons, it was the same flickering illumination, heavy with smoke. Imad had finished his work and gone to sleep in his own room nearby, but first he had lowered the chains on the prisoners, allowing them to sit against the wall.


    Harun. Tell me of the outside world.


    Why? Brand adjusted his ufortable seat. He had fresh wounds across his chest where his tunic was torn open.


    Help me remember.


    There is bread, freshly baked. You can smell it. And cool water on a warm day. Rain that falls it calms you. Brand swallowed, fumbling for words. I do not know what to tell you.


    Tell me your memories. Ive seen the leather string around your neck. A woman of Alczar made that for you, did she not? Tell me of her.


    Brand opened and closed his eyes again, slowly. She is long gone. I do not recall her face. She left. Instead of memories, all I have left of her is this piece of leather. Until they take that away from me.


    That as well.


    Majid.


    What?


    Why do you not tell them about Jawad? He left you behind. You owe him no loyalty.


    What little I would know, he has already taken steps to make irrelevant. That is how he works, Majid exined with a strained voice. Our only chance is to keep quiet, and perhaps the Prince may yet see us freed.


    Do you truly have hope of that?


    No. Majid was quiet for a moment. But my only other choice is to hope for death. The sooner, the better.


    Do not despair yet. You are a champion of the sands, Brand reminded him. These men, our captors, will not get the better of you.


    Majid licked his lips with a dry tongue. Yes, they will. Neither of them spoke further.

 Chapter 160: A Measure of Mercy

    Chapter 160: A Measure of Mercy


    How is your progress? Jalils mother stared at him under her heavy eyelids.


    The prisoners are breaking, he imed. They will lead me to the remaining spies soon enough.


    In other words, you have made no progress. There was a steel edge in her voice.


    I am sure Saif is no further along than me! This takes time, heined.


    You should aim at being better than Saif, not his equal, she told him pointedly. Your father will not be impressed by a son trudging along, doing the bare necessary and nothing more.


    What do you expect from me? That I spend my days in the dungeons, wielding the knife myself?


    If that is necessary. She rose from her divan and approached her son. She ced her hand on his cheek, seemingly with affection, but her long nails scratched into his skin. We have been working towards this your entire life, my son. Do not stumble so close to the end of the journey.


    He swallowed. Of course not, Mother. I will do anything I must.


    There is the boy I raised. She smiled without warmth.


    ~~~~


    Going to the dungeons, Jalil found Imad preparing his tools and the prisoners. They were once more forced to stand with their limbs spread out, unable to move. Seeing the prince, Imad bowed low and picked up a pair of thongs.


    Is he ready? Jalil asked coldly.


    Yes, sidi. Ask your questions. Imad moved to stand next to Majid, while Jalil kept some distance.


    Tell me the names of every spy in the city.


    I took my orders from a man named Jawad, Majid admitted. Imad quickly pushed a piece of dirty cloth into Majids mouth, grabbed one of his fingers, applied the thongs, and pulled the fingernail out. Distaste ran across Jalils face upon hearing Majids veiled scream; Brands face was turned the other way, hiding his expression.


    Letting the bloody nail fall to the floor, Imad removed the gag. Ask again, sidi.


    Tell me all the names of every spy, you traitorous scum.


    Jawad, mumbled Majid. His name was Jawad. And the ck-robed priests.


    Jalil looked at Imad, who nodded. He tells it true, sidi.


    Tell me of this Jawad. Who is he? Where can he be found?


    He is a thief. I have no idea where to find him. The dirty cloth was returned to Majids mouth, and Imad pulled another nail. I swear it! Majid eximed once the rag was taken away. I dont know his home.


    Where did you meet?


    He came to my home when he needed me.


    What was your task?


    I took messages from him to the ck-clothed priests, Majid exined. That is all.


    What did those messages contain?


    I dont know. Jalil nodded to Imad. Another finger lost its crown. I dont know, I swear!


    I believe he is honest, sidi, the torturer interjected.


    Make sure. The thongs made their pull.


    I dont know!


    Jalil watched Majid with a dissatisfied face. You are of no help. He turned his eyes on Brand. Maybe he can answer some questions.


    Sidi, with apologies, I think its too early, Imad intervened.


    How? eximed Jalil with anger. Your task is simply to hurt them! Hurt them until they tell the truth! He drew a dagger from his sheath and made a quick cut across Brands stomach, prompting a small gasp of pain. See? Like this!


    With all respect, sidi, simply applying pain will not yield good results. The prisoner will say anything to make it stop. It bes very hard to know whether they are being honest, which is why I must take time, build up the pain and learn their reaction, Imad exined.


    Jalil watched the little man with disdain. You are testing my patience.


    I beg your forgiveness, sidi.


    I will return tonight, the prince dered with a sneer. I expect the northern bastard to provide me with answers.


    Very well, sidi.


    ~~~~


    Naturally, the Kabir had an entire wing of the pce at his sole disposal. Here, he slept, ruled, and asionally ate his meals. This had especially been the case during the wars with Labdah when poisoning was considered a probable threat. Whether attending to matters of state or desiring solitude, the Kabir preferred to sit in his library, surrounded by a wealth of books, coincidentally a reminder of his own wealth. Only a few trusted ves were allowed to disturb the ruler in his library. The same privilege extended to the highest ranking of his servants, the hgib.


    Serving as the veil between the Kabir and his people, the hgib was given more responsibility and authority than any other in Alczar. Once a day, before the evening meal, he would inform his master of all pertinent matters and news, providing counsel and receiving instructions.


    At the very best, the fleet may be at full strength in two months time, said the hgib.


    The Kabir received these news with a clenched jaw, but when he spoke, his voice was calm. See to it.


    Yes, sidi.


    What of my sons?


    Prince Saif has taken many for questioning, but most have been released again. Nothing of substance so far, I fear.


    Jalil?


    The prince Jalil fares simrly. His interrogation of the first prisoner seems to have yielded little. It is my understanding he will question the northerner soon.


    The Kabir took a heavy draught from a golden goblet of wine. Do you consider their failure a sign of ipetence or simply that their pursuit is barren?


    I fear thetter, my lord. This spy ring has always been organised with manyyers. Like an onion, we peel away only to find another. Whoever sits at the core, they are too wily to be caught. Perhaps they have already fled the city.


    The Kabir stroked his oiled beard in contemtion. Should I close the ports? It may be time we stop the flow of information.


    With respect, sidi, that will send a certain signal to the ind kingdom that our invasion is imminent. The longer they are kept in uncertainty, the better. Especially as our own spies report they are descending into chaos  news of our attack would make them unite against us. And should Your Eminence close the ports, we will be cut off from our spies as well.


    You have convinced me, the Kabir told him, waving his hand. Just make sure the fleet is ready as soon as the winter storms end. This dy will put my ns under pressure.


    Of course, sidi.


    Any news from the Council of Ten?


    Nothing since myst report, sidi.


    Those old fools, muttered the Kabir. Fine. Enough for tonight. The evening meal beckons me.


    Very good, sidi. The hgib bowed his head. Shall I have food brought to you?


    Let me dine with my sons for once. They may need the reminder of what is at stake. The Kabir emptied his goblet and rose to his feet, striding past the hgib, who retreated while bowing low.


    ~~~~


    The dining hall of the pce distinguished itself in one aspect; it had no furniture of any kind. Instead, the Kabirs court ate their meals sitting on the floor. It was an ancient custom, mostly eradicated by northern influence and northern lumber for chairs and tables, but it was still observed in full by the Kabir and all his courtiers. At least, this was the case in public.


    Mealtimes were informal; unlike in the North, they were not announced by bells, nor did a water clock anywhere keep time. Instead, courtiers simply arrived within a certain span of hours, and there was a continuous stream of ves bringing food to the hall. Those eating sat in semicircles, aimed towards a small dais intended for the Kabir; this ensured none ever sat with their backs towards the ruler of the city.


    Around sunset, the hall was mostly full. Only the dais was out of bounds; the courtiers could sit where they pleased in the rest of the hall, though the closer to the rulers seat, the better. The hgib always took his meal near it, often surrounded by people seeking his influence and approval. The same was the case for a few of the Kabirs wives, who chose to eat here rather than in the harem; both Saifs and Jalils mothers were among them, each having their own semicircle of attendants.


    Jana entered the hall, quickly ncing around. Once her eyes found Saif, she moved to join him, his mother, and a few younger daughters. Sayidaty, she spoke.


    Jana, dearest, I am so d you came, said Saifs mother. Come, sit by my side! Make room, she added to one of her children, who obliged.


    You are kind to desire my presence, Lady Rana, Jana told the older woman, sitting down next to her.


    Nonsense. I always tell my daughters to look towards you as an example, Rana replied. Is that not true? I always tell you girls that Lady Jana is the very picture of a princess of Alczar.


    Yes, Mother, the daughters mumbled.


    Besides, Saif has always prized yourpany, is that not so, Saif?


    Very true, Mother, replied her son with a smile, helping himself to fruit and roasted pigeon.


    And I have hardly seen much of you, even though your return was almost half a year ago. You must be happy to be back in Alczar, continued Rana.


    I am, Jana confirmed. Labdah is very different.


    Saif told me all about it. Those alchemists in their tower. She gave a visible shudder. What a relief we do not have them in Alczar, or I should positively never dare to put a fig in my mouth.


    None would ever dare tamper with your food, Mother, Saif dered with a wry look. They are all much too afraid of you.


    Silly boy, she admonished him. Hear how he talks to his own mother? she added, directed at Jana.


    Even the best of trees may at times yield poor fruit, Jana replied, making Ranaugh.


    How very right you are, my dear! Hear that, Saif? You are a rotten fig.


    And you are a blossoming fig tree, dear mother, her son told her.


    Conversation became hushed all throughout the hall. From a door behind the dais, the Kabir appeared. He walked forward with slow steps, sitting down on a rug amidst pillows. There was frantic movement around him as servants hurried to bring him his preferred dishes and pour his wine.


    The Kabir gestured for a ve to bow down and spoke a few quiet words into his ear. The ve quickly moved towards Saif and hispanions. The exalted Kabirmands the presence of his son.


    Go, boy, do not keep your father waiting! Rana eximed, ushering him away with her hands.


    If you will pardon me, Saif told the others and got up. As he walked towards his father, he saw the ve continue to deliver the same message to Jalil. Momentster, the brothers stood before the Kabir.


    Sit, he told them, and theyplied, taking a seat on each side. Saif, he continued, how goes your investigation?


    I have interrogated many, which has given me further roads to follow.


    You have nothing at present, in other words, the Kabir pointed out, making Jalil smile.


    Not as such, Saif admitted.


    Jalil! Hearing his own name wiped Jalils smile away. What of you?


    I have done as you instructed, Father, Jalil hurried to say. I have thoroughly questioned the helper, and he yielded a name. I will question the northern savage tonight. I expect the spies will be known to me soon.


    A name? Have you acted upon this?


    Not yet, Jalil mumbled. I have not been able to find the person behind the name.


    You are as far along as your brother, it seems, the Kabir dered. This time, Saif had cause the smile.


    I will see this through, Jalil imed, gritting his teeth.


    Perhaps I need to think of other ways you can prove your worthiness. Both of you, the Kabir remarked, letting his eyes move from one son to the other. Both of them looked down, avoiding his gaze.


    ~~~~


    In the dungeons, Imad was busy cleaning Brands wounds on his chest when Jalil entered the cell. Already, the princes face was red. It is time to continue. I want the northerner to tell me everything.


    Imad swallowed. Yes, sidi. If I may, he has not spoken a single word yet. He is not an easy man to break


    Jalils hand across Imads face interrupted his speech. Get him ready!


    Imad rubbed his cheek but made no further interjection. He fetched a tool from his table. It was an iron ring with a long handle. Moving over to the prisoner, he pulled out a long needle from Brands little finger and stuck it into the prisoners wrist. The iron ring was pressed down on Brands finger, and Imad turned his face towards the prince. Ask, sidi.


    Tell me all the names of every spy in the city, Jalil said in the northern tongue.


    Brand did not make the slightest inclination of hearing the question.


    Slowly pulling the handle of his tool, Imad began to bend Brands finger backwards. Brand clenched his jaw. The sickening sound of flesh ripping could be heard. Finally, Brand released an outcry of agony, and Imad released his grip.


    Tell me all their names. Jalil walked over to grab Brand by the chin, sneering the words into his face. Tell me!


    Brand responded only with a stare, and Imad began to pull his tool backwards again. This time he continued until the bone snapped and Brand roared with pain.


    Tell me! shouted Jalil, grabbing hold of Brands hair. Tell me everything!


    I have nine more fingers. Keep going, Brand told him in Mearcspeech.


    Flushed with anger, Jalil relinquished his grip and turned towards Imad. I thought you were breaking him! You have had days, and still he is defiant!


    I beg your forgiveness, sidi, but you must understand the difference. He pointed at Majid. Him, he was motivated by coin. This one, he continued, pulling out the needle from Brands wrist, is fuelled by loyalty. He believes in his cause. That makes him harder to break, more delicate. I need more time.


    More time, Jalil sneered. What use are you!


    Apologies, sidi.


    The prince turned back to Majid. What of you?


    I know nothing more, the prisoner mumbled.


    Then you can only serve one purpose. You will die, painfully, as an example to yourpanion. Jalil turned his head towards Brand. Do you hear? He will die with the utmost agony! And once I am done with him, you will follow.


    Brand only stared ahead.


    Take his next finger, Jalilmanded with a malicious voice. Complying, Imad applied his tool upon Brands ring finger and pulled until bone broke. Talk! he added in Mearcspeech.


    Eight left, Brand replied.


    Exhaling, Jalil turned towards Imad. You will break him, and you will do so soon.


    Please, sidi, you must understand. If I proceed too swiftly, the prisoner will say anything to make the pain stop. It bes very unreliable


    Jalil interrupted the torturer with another p. Tomorrow.


    Yes, sidi.


    As for him Jalil turned towards Majid. Listen to me, you faithless coward. I give you this respite until tomorrow to rack your mind for any knowledge, any name, any ce. If you cannot provide me with anything, you will be tormented hour after hour, kept alive at the brink of death, until you remember.


    The prince left with swift steps. Imad watched him leave, sighing. Hes going to undo days of work for me. Its very difficult to do my task with all this interference, he mumbled to himself. He nced at Majid. I suppose there is no need to work further on you. Youre a lost cause. He reached out to grab the wooden pendant hanging around Majids neck. With a swift pull, Imad tore it off and threw it into the nearby brazier. The fire hissed and began consuming the wood. A pity. I had hoped for more from you. He turned his attention on Brand. You, on the other hand


    ~~~~


    Hourster, it was night, even in the dungeons. Imad had gone to sleep; the prisoners sat on the floor, allowed some manner of rest. Harun, muttered Majid.


    It took a while for Brand to respond. Yes?


    I cant anymore.


    Brand raised his head, ncing at the other man. The faint shimmer from the coals in the brazier was all that illuminated their space, casting an eerie glow the colour of a sunset. Their clothes were reduced to rags. Sweat and grime covered their skin along with streaks of dried blood. I am not keeping you here.


    But you can set me free.


    What do you mean?


    Majid slowly turned his head to look at Brand. Please. Kill me.


    His fellow prisoner raised his hands, showing the irons upon them. How?


    If we stand. Now, while the chains are not tight. You have long arms, Ive noticed.


    Brand coughed. I have never killed a man in cold blood, or with my bare hands.


    It is an act of mercy. Please, Majid implored him. I cannot face tomorrow.


    Brand stared ahead into the coals. Very well. He pulled his legs back and ced one hand on the wall, supporting himself. With some difficulty, hindered by his shackles, he managed to stand. His movements were still difficult, but the chains were sufficiently loose that he could extend his arms.


    Majid had gotten on his feet as well and moved as far as he could towards Brand. I have never paid much attention to the gods. Do you think it is toote?


    If they will not ept you, they are not just and thus not worthy of you, Brand replied.


    I wore your god around my neck, yet he seems to have brought only death. Is he worth your loyalty?


    Yes, Brand whispered. He did his best to keep me safe. My own actions brought me here.


    Majid nodded. Then I shall pray he will take pity on me, and that I will see you again in a better ce.


    In a better ce. Brand swallowed, blinking several times.


    Do it. Before I lose my nerve, before the day dawns, before I am damned.


    Brand reached out and ced his hands, one injured, around Majids throat. He squeezed. At first, Majid stood calmly with closed eyes. Suddenly, his eyes flew open. He gasped for air. He grabbed Brands wrists, trying to pry his hands away, to no avail. Finally, he simply wed against Brands grip.


    Tears crept down Brands cheeks, bing dirty. Still, he held on until Majid no longer struggled. He continued to squeeze and squeeze until there could not be a mote of doubt that all life was extinguished in Majids body. When only dead eyes stared back at him, Brand finally let go. Majid fell forwards, hanging at an awkward angle in the chains like a lifeless doll. As for Brand, he sank to the floor, burying his head in his hands.

 Chapter 161: A Worthy Spectacle

    Chapter 161: A Worthy Spectacle


    Exin how you could be so careless to let a prisoner die. Jalils voice was calm, but he spoke with a clenched jaw.


    There are marks from fingers around his neck, Imad exined. He was sweating despite the room being cold. The northerner must have strangled him.


    Preventing him from talking, Jalil sneered. He grabbed Majids hair, pulling his head up.


    With respect, sidi, I dont believe he had anything more to say. I think the torments you threatened made him


    You dare me me?


    Imad swallowed and bowed low. Never, sidi.


    This failure will cost you, Jalil promised him, letting Majids head drop. I will see you punished!


    Yes, sidi. Imad kept his head down.


    First of all, do not tell anyone. There is no need for my father to know.


    Imad cleared his throat. My apologies, sidi.


    Jalil stared at him. No. You did not.


    It is my duty, sidi. These are the exalted Kabirs prisoners.


    They are my responsibility! the prince shrieked.


    s, I am first and foremost the exalted Kabirs humble servant.


    Jalil stared at the little torturer with a multitude of expressions running across his face. Keep this one alive. Can you manage that, you despicable creep?


    Of course, sidi. I will not be strangling him, after all.


    Jalil let his tongue run over his lips slowly. You will pay when I have time to deal with you. He turned on his heel and marched out of the room.


    Imad let out a heavy breath. I hope he doesnt be the next Kabir. What a nightmare my work would be. He looked at Brand. Very cheeky, you. Ive never had a prisoner die unintentionally before. He ran his hand over the edge of the table containing his tools. I cant damage you, not without my masters approval. Fortunately, much can be done leaving little trace. Without having to look, he moved his hand to pick up an instrument.


    ~~~~


    Jalil went straight to the harem and his mothers chamber. As he entered, she stared at him under heavy eyelids. I heard.


    That fool failed me! Jalilined.


    She raised one hand to silence him. The me is irrelevant. The fact remains, your position is weakened.


    He was not of much use, anyway, Jalil mumbled. He had not told me anything worthwhile.


    It does not matter. In the eyes of your father, you have taken a loss. He will respect you less because of it.


    Jalil chewed on his lower lip. You think so?


    I know your fathers mind. She sat up from her divan, straightening her back. He will begin to favour Saif over you, unless something changes. Unless we change something.


    What can we do?


    What can you do, his mother corrected him.


    A small girl entered from a side corridor. Mother? she said tentatively.


    Not now! came the reply, sending the child running. You must prove yourself to your father another way, she continued at Jalil.


    Of course, Mother, but in what way? This was the task he gave me.


    We need to show him  and the court  that you are superior to your half-brother when ites to war. After all, the soldiers will need amander they can respect, she considered.


    How can I do this?


    She leaned back on her divan. You still have one prisoner left.


    ~~~~


    Close by, another of the Kabirs sons visited his mother in the harem as well. You sent for me, Mother?


    I did, Rana confirmed. I have received word. One of the two prisoners in the dungeons has died.


    Saif widened his eyes and broke into a smile. Poor Jalil! He must be in a state trying to recover from this. Was it his own eagerness that went too far?


    Rana shook her head. It happened during the night. I could not discern the reason, but either the torturer made a mistake, or the other prisoner decided to silence hispanion.


    I suppose either way, it leaves Jalil crippled.


    Do not be too hasty. By all ounts, the truly valuable prisoner remains in Jalils hands. You still need to prove yourself, my son. Jalils mishap does not prove your worth. Should ite to it, your father has other sons.


    Of course. I continue to pursue the spies with all means at my disposal, Saif defended himself.


    His mother regarded him with a curved eyebrow. And has this yielded any result?


    They remain elusive, he admitted.


    With this development, Jalil, or should I say his mother, will be trying anything to make up for it. Be on your guard, my son! she urged him. Remain diligent in your duties and give none cause to doubt you.


    I shall, Mother. I did not n otherwise.


    Do not underestimate that old hag or her odious son, Rana continued. I will be vignt as well. Go, resume your duties. Let none use you of beingx in your duties.


    Very well, Mother. He inclined his head towards her and left.


    ~~~~


    Despite his mothersmand, Saif did not leave the harem. Instead, he walked through a few corridors to reach Janas chamber. He knocked and received no answer. Waiting a little while, he finally entered. Sister? Are you present? he asked, peering into the room.


    A female voice reached him,ing from the corridor on the other side of the room. He waited until Jana came into sight, apanied by Salim. She was talking, and both were smiling. The prince cleared his throat discreetly.


    Saif! You took me by surprise. Janas smile faltered a little before returning. I was just in the gardens with Salim.


    Pleasant surroundings, but perhaps one-sided conversation, Saif remarked with a wry expression.


    Salim has lots to say. You just have to listen, she argued, sending the mamluk warrior a fond look. What do I owe this unexpected visit?


    Just had some news to share, her brother exined with a satisfied smile. One of Jalils prisoners died during the night. This will have thrown his ns into chaos.


    I see. While Salim took position by the wall, she sat on a sofa. I see the reason for your joy.


    He remained standing, tripping in ce. If we are fortunate, our father will soon be done with him.


    If we are fortunate, Jana repeated. It seems a pity a man had to die for this, though.


    Your gentle heart speaks well of you, but you need not feel troubled. He was a traitor, helping the spies for the sake of coin. Not to mention, knowing Jalil, his death might have been a mercy.


    I suppose there is that.


    You shoulde sit with us at the evening meal again today, Saif encouraged her. My mother is always in a good mood when she has yourpany.


    That is very kind of you to say.


    I must go, he continued. I have matters requiring my attention before the meal. I will see youter, he smiled, taking his leave.


    Jana turned her head towards Salim. Your tongue may be quiet, but I can hear your eyes speaking like a waterfall even without looking at you.


    He gave a wry smile and a few gestures.


    I know, I know. Alczar is my home once more. She looked pensive for a moment. Is it strange that sometimes I miss our seclusion in Labdah? I felt alone and thought I wished a return to Alczar, but now, this pce seems a more solitary ce to me.


    Salim responded, adding an understanding expression to his mute motions.


    Very well. I will leave for the evening meal now. You should take some time for yourself, she suggested. You have barely left the pce since our return. There must be more thrilling entertainment in the city than standing in my chamber all day.


    He winked, inclined his head, and left her alone.


    ~~~~


    As the sun approached the horizon, the dining hall filled with courtiers. They spread out in natural patterns like birds across the sky, arranging themselves in semicircles as always. One difference was that today, fewer sat with Jalil and his mother than they had yesterday. After a while, the Kabir entered the hall from his private entrance, taking his seat upon the dais reserved for him. While tes and cups were brought to him, he had a servant summon one of his younger wives forpany.


    He does not call for you or your brother, Rana remarked quietly to her son. Jana had joined their circle, conversing lightly with one of Ranas daughters.


    He wants to keep us on our toes, Saif suggested. That is always his habit.


    An art he has perfected, she said with a wry look. And with the fleet preparations dyed, he has plenty of times to think of more ways.


    It will be a long winter. Saif gave a little sigh in mockery.


    What is this? eximed Rana. Her eyes rested on Jalil, having risen from his seat to approach the Kabir. Granted permission to step close, the prince exchanged quiet words with his father. Soon after, a few servants were dispatched by Jalil, leaving the hall.


    I suspect we will find out, Saif considered, watching his brother.


    Standing by the dais, Jalil moved to the side that he might face the court without having his back turned to the Kabir. He raised one hand to demand silence, which came easily; he already had the attention of everyone present. My lords anddies, he called out. With the permission of the exalted Kabir, I wish to present a spectacle to you. As all know, earlier this year I returned from Labdah, having ensured that citys allegiance towards our exalted Kabir.


    Saif rolled his eyes.


    In that savage city, I witnessed a disy of skill and swordsmanship. A warrior of the North, gruesome and fierce, fought on the sands against a champion born of Alczar. The northern savage was fearsome in his fury, killing all in his rage. Against him, our champion stood as a tower of skill and strength. In the end, our warrior proved superior, as was to be expected, and he struck the northerner with ruin.


    He killed an inexperienced fighter who had never been on the sands before, Saif whispered to his mother.


    I do not like this, Rana admitted. I do not like this at all.


    Jalil continued. As Alczar is greater than Labdah in all respects, the exalted Kabir has granted me leave to present a better spectacle to you all. In our dungeons, we have a prisoner from the North. A devious viin, he was discovered setting fires in the city! Gasps were heard. It took ten guards to subdue him, and many wounds he gave them. Some would fear to face this creature, more beast than man, but the sons of Alczar fear none! A few cheered; most remained silent in anticipation. As evidence of this, I will face this savage before your very eyes! I will wear no armour, no protection save a sword and my skill.


    I will bet you the poor soul probably has broken hands and cannot even hold a de, Saif muttered.


    Surely your father cannot be impressed by this, his mother dered. Such posture and vanity!


    I would ask you all to make room in the middle of the hall, Jalil said. Before the exalted Kabirs eyes, and yours, I shall battle this dog and punish him for his misdeeds!


    The Kabir gave a nod in acknowledgement of thismand, and the courtiers rose from the ground, moving to the sides until the centre was clear. Jalil stepped into the open space with a smile. We all know that the North is home to countless savages. In older times, they would appear in their ships, plundering our coasts and disappear before we could strike back. Because they know that one of our mamluk warriors is worth ten of theirs. Skill has heavier weight than numbers, and none can stand against the sons of Alczar!


    There wasmotion at the far end of the hall; two guards entered with Brand in chains between them. The prisoner stared around with a wild look. His clothing was torn open, revealing his neck and chest along with the wounds upon them. Dirt covered both his tunic and skin, and two fingers on his left hand were swollen. His right handy on his throat, covering the leather string surrounding it.


    Behold the viin! Jalil cried out. Even now, murder is in his eyes, but fear not. We shall fight with blunted swords, and the guards will keep his murderous intent in check. The courtiers mumbled, and several pressed backwards to put distance between themselves and Brand. Meanwhile, more guards appeared, taking position along the edge of the cleared space where Jalil stood. Remove his chains, the princemanded. While Brand was freed, a servant appeared with two dull swords, meant for sparring. He gave them both to Jalil with a bow and hurried away.


    I hope he trips and impales himself, Rana muttered, watching Jalil holding the two swords.


    I think the de is too dull to impale anything, Saif told her.


    Good. It will hurt more.


    The prince, meanwhile, had approached Brand. Fight me or die, he told the prisoner in Mearcspeech, throwing one de onto the ground. Retreating two steps, Jalil swung his own sword around a few times before he turned to face his father. At your pleasure, my lord.


    From his seat, the Kabir gave a nod in signal. Jalil whirled around, raising his sword and assuming a fighting position.


    Brand stared around the hall, at the courtiers, the prince in front of him, and the de on the ground. Slowly, he leaned down to pick up the weapon with his uninjured hand.


    With an expression between a smile and a sneer, Jalil stepped forward to make a quick stab at Brand, like baiting an animal. In response, Brand jerked backwards, and he finally raised his sword. Seeing his opponent ready, Jalil advanced more carefully, striking several blows from different angles and forcing Brand to parry and retreat. With flourishes and wide swings, Jalil was entertaining the crowd as much as he was fighting.


    He attacked, Brand defended.


    Jalil was a prince of Alczar with an aptitude for sword-fighting trained since childhood.


    Another blow, another parry.


    Brand was a knight, likewise skilled and trained.


    A deep thrust from Jalil, a step backwards from Brand.


    Had they met on the battlefield, the fight would have been equal.


    Avoiding another thrust, Brand circled around Jalil.


    Brand was wounded, starved, and had not seen sunlight in days.


    A rapid session of strikes, a quick defensive manoeuvre.


    Jalil was fighting to adore the spectators rather than to win.


    The prince raised his sword in a wide strike, looking impressive. Having plenty of time to react, Brand did not parry, but simply stepped to the side. He struck his de down against Jalils sword hand. With an outburst, the prince dropped his weapon. Brand followed up by striking the pommel of his sword into Jalils chest, sending his opponent sprawling to the ground.


    The court looked in shock, but none dared interfere. Brands sword hovered over Jalils face; although blunt, it could easily take an eye out. The guards stood frozen as well, looking at each other or the Kabir. As for him, the ruler sat with a stone face, not revealing any emotion.


    Brand let his eyes run over the crowd. I am a knight of Adal, he proimed in Suthspeech. Go north, and you shall face ten thousand like me! He threw his de to the ground in a contemptuous manner, stepping away from the prince.

 Chapter 162: Strings

    Chapter 162: Strings


    Seeing Brand disarm himself, several things happened at once. The crowd reacted with a multitude of emotions. The guards swarmed forward to seize Brand. Jalil got on his feet, staring at the prisoner with undisguised hatred.


    Prince Jalil! The voice of the Kabir cut through the noise, and the courtiers became silent. Prince Saif, the ruler added. With me. Guards, take the prisoner to a cell where he may rest. The Kabir rose from his seat and left the hall through his private doorway; his sons hurried to follow him.


    As they walked through the corridor, all three men were silent, though the brothers wore vastly different expressions; the Kabirs face was nk. He continued until he reached his library, finally turning around to look at his sons. Do you understand what you have done? he asked Jalil.


    He took me by surprise! I can fight him again


    Silence. The Kabirs voice was calm but with an unmistakeable edge. First of all, you allowed the prisoner to dere himself a knight to everyone present. If he is of noble blood, it will be dishonourable to torture him. You have deprived yourself of your remaining opportunity to find the other spies.


    Jalil looked pale. I did - I did not


    Silence, the Kabir repeated. Yes, you did not think. The entire court saw you bested by a ragged prisoner. A measure of disgust flowed into his voice. You have dealt a blow to our own forces, making them doubt House al-Saqr. How are they to face the northern armies with confidence after this disy? Certainly not under yourmand.


    This time, Jalil remained quiet. By his side, Saif looked increasingly satisfied.


    Remove yourself from my presence. Do not go near the prisoner. You have failed me, and I will not tolerate further failings on your part. The Kabir stared at his son with harsh eyes. Swallowing, Jalil bowed his head and retreated from the room. Once he was gone, the ruler looked at his other son. This is yours. He walked over to open a cab containing trophies of past conquests and took out Brands sword.


    Saif epted it with a bow. I shall not disappoint, Father.


    No. You shall not. The Kabir turned towards a map that hung upon his wall, great enough to show both the South Cities and much of Adalmearc. Come. We must discuss the future.


    ~~~~


    Once more in iron, Brand was led by guards through the pce. They returned him to the dungeons, but not the torture chamber as before. Instead, he was led to a small cell nearby, barelyrge enough that he could lie down in it. Its only redeeming feature was a coarse nket lying on the floor, shielding him from the worst of the cold stonework beneath. The door was solid wood. Near the top, it had a window with bars, allowing light to enter and any upants to be observed; a hatch was cut into it at the bottom, which could only be opened from the outside. Chains removed, the guards pushed him inside.


    Shortly after Brands arrival to the cell, the small hatch was unbolted, and a bowl of food pushed through. You may be behind this door, but youre still in my kingdom, Imad told him through the barrier. Youre a mouse in a cage. Rest while you can, little mouse.


    Brand did not reply; he took the bowl, sat up against the wall, and began eating.


    ~~~~


    In the harem, Jalil stood with his head hanging before his mother. Her eyes regarded him under their heavy lids. I cannot even look at you, she muttered, turning her head.


    It was your idea, he said in defence.


    I thought you would win against a filthy prisoner. My son, I thought, would at least be capable of that, she eximed with venom in her voice.


    I did not expect him to react the way he did!


    Spare me your excuses, his mother hissed. While I am disgusted by your performance, this is not the time for chastisement. We have until winter ends to remedy this situation before your wretched brother goes north with the fleet, along with your future.


    Yes, Mother.


    Tell me everything you know about this prisoner. Other than his superior swordsmanship, of course.


    The insult made Jalils face twist for a moment. I do not know. I only interrogated him a little, and he did not reveal anything. That foolish torturer did poorly, the prince imed. He did not know how to break him.


    That in itself says something. He is not some pawn, eager to buy his freedom. He may very well be a knight, though he speaks ournguage well, which is strange, his mother considered.


    He had an unusual sword when he was captured. It seemed far more valuable than amon knight would possess, Jalil exined.


    He could have important rtives in the Seven Realms, she contemted. Rtives that might be exploited. A fathermanding a castle, or a mother knowing secrets. Some mothers will do the most foolish things for the sake of their sons, she added.


    Yes, Mother, Jalil mumbled.


    We will have to watch this prisoner. That old witch, Rana, is sure to think along the same lines. Meanwhile, you will stay far away from him.


    But Mother, he insulted my honour! I must have satisfaction somehow!


    No, you must not! Your failure is your burden to bear. Now be gone! You have tired me. Shey back on her divan, waving her hand in dismissal.


    Yes, Mother. He skulked away.


    ~~~~


    Elsewhere in the harem, a conversation around the same topic yed out between another mother and her son. In contrast, both were smiling andughing. I will never forget Jalils face, lying t on his back! Saif eximed.


    The dirty northerner should have pushed that de just a few inches down, Rana remarked. Losing an eye would have taught Jalil some humility.


    I think the humiliation will serve that purpose, Saif told her, sounding less vicious. Always priding himself on his swordsmanship, he continued. Jalil will not be able to show his face for weeks!


    Is that the sword your father gave you? Rana asked. They were sitting on a sofa together, and she extended a hand to touch the pommel of the sword by his side.


    It is, Saif said, satisfied. A de like no other, thus fitting. I shall take great joy wielding it against the northerners when the timees.


    Rana moved her fingers down the hilt and over the runes inscribed on the cross-guard. You should not wear this, my son. Who knows what evil power lies in these markings?


    Mother, he spoke with teasing admonition. If they hold any strength, surely that will only make the de better.


    She shuddered a little. Their gods are not ours. Far from theirnds, you may be safe, but who knows once you travel hence? You may have given yourself into their power.


    This is a sign of Fathers favour, Saif reminded her. I must wear it, else he might think I scorn his gift.


    Very well, but leave it behind in camp when you ride to battle, his mother demanded. Do not give their primitive gods any power over you.


    If that will make you feel better, I promise to do so.


    Thank you, my son. It is the same sword that was taken from the prisoner?


    It was, Saif nodded. Clearly, he knows how to use it.


    There is much about him that seems strange, Rana considered. Not only this sword, but his im to be a knight. I have met a few in my time at court, and they are not spies.


    Perhaps they are, and we simply never knew before.


    Perhaps Regardless, you should keep an eye on this northerner. Ask your father what he intends to do with him. I have an ill feeling about him!


    Be at ease, Mother. I already spoke to Father, and he intends for the prisoner to be executed at the next day of judgement. Beheading, as befits his status.


    Good, good. Looking rxed, Rana smiled at her son. Everything is falling into ce.


    ~~~~


    Brand had only been in his new lodgings for a few hours when the door opened. He shielded his eyes against the sudden light, weak as it was, and heard Imads voice. Youre to follow this guard. Dont ask questions, and dont try to run. If you do, youll end up back here with your ankles slit.


    Still keeping his eyes squinted, Brand got on his feet. He pushed his way past Imad, who growled, but did nothing else. With a heavy hand on Brands shoulder, the mamluk guard led him out of the dungeons. They walked through corridors intended for the servants to move quickly through the pce without being seen, often staying below ground.


    At length, they reached a small room with a pool and a few basic necessities for cleaning. An old woman and a male ve were already present. Remove your clothes, said the former, while thetter filled water in the pool.


    Brand hesitated, looking at the guard, who stared back with one hand on his sword hilt. Clearing his throat, Brandplied, removing the rags on his body.


    The woman ran her fingers over Brands torso. Already healing, she mumbled. As long as theyre kept clean and dont open again, theyll be fine. Now about this She took hold of Brands left hand, making him wince in pain. Not good, but not toote, I think. She gently pressed against Brands fingers, feeling the damage underneath the purple skin. Steel yourself, boy. This will hurt.


    What will?


    She twisted one of his broken fingers, making Brands entire body tense. One more. She repeated the procedure, which Brand epted with gritted teeth. There. Healing will be slow, but at least theyll heal properly. She took out a roll of bandages from a pouch and ced it around the broken fingers. Best you dont use it for at least a month, probably two.


    Thank you.


    Thats all, I take it, the old woman said to the guard, who nodded. He stood in the doorway, blocking it; now he stepped back, letting her leave.


    In here, if you please, the ve told Brand, gesturing towards the pool. He had finished preparing the bath.


    Eyes darting between the servant and the warrior, Brand stepped into the pool. What is this?


    Youre to be washed. With good reason, the ve added and began to scrub the filth from Brands body. This is hardly worth keeping either. He touched the leather string around Brands neck.


    A hand shot up to grab hold of the ves. No.


    Offended, the servant wrestled his hand free. Only trying to make you presentable. Gods, some people. He continued his duty, adding oils to Brands hair. Little by little, the signs of Brands imprisonment were removed from him.


    ~~~~


    When he was finally presentable, Brand once more moved through the pce. He wore a clean if simple robe of linen, same as most servants. The mamluk was by his side as before, leading him by the shoulder with a firm grip. They left the servants quarters to enter the harem, still using the passages that kept them invisible to courtiers and nobility.


    At length, they entered one of the many chambers housing the women of the Kabirs family. A curious sight spread before Brands eyes. On the floor, a meal had been ced with meats, fruits, and bread. A pillowy alone on one side; a woman sat on another pillow opposite. She was dressed as to be expected by a wife or daughter of the Kabir. Her hair was covered with a veil sped across her face, hiding her features. Only her dark eyes were visible, looking at Brand.


    Please, enter and have a seat. She extended one hand in invitation. The guard led Brand forward, hand on his shoulder as before, and pressed him to sit down. This aplished, he took position right behind the prisoner, hand ready on his sword hilt. Forgive mypanion if he seems discourteous. He is merely zealous in his duties. Brand made no reply. I imagine you have not eaten welltely. Please, do not hesitate.


    Brand turned his eyes from hispanion to the meal before him. Will you eat?


    You need not worry. This is not Labdah, the woman told him, and her smile could be sensed underneath her veil. But I can if it will put you at ease.


    If you wanted to cause me outright harm, you would not have to resort to poison. Brand nced over his shoulder at the armed warrior watching him. But we are sitting on the floor, making me believe you respect the customs of Alczar. Another custom holds that if you share a meal with any under your roof, they are your guest, and you have no ill intentions towards them.


    Very true, sir knight. That is your rank, is it not?


    Brand cleared his throat. It was. As you can see, my golden spurs are gone.


    She reached out with delicate fingers, picked a grape from the stem, and guided it under her veil to eat it. There you are, sir knight. If you will eat or drink as well, the custom is satisfied.


    Brand filled his goblet with what turned out to be cider made from apples. He took a sip and ced the cup on the ground. Very well then.


    You are curious, no doubt, as to what is happening.


    Yes.


    I am told your true name is not known. Is this so?


    He hesitated. Yes, that would be the case. In the spirit of hospitality, I would ask that continues.


    As you wish. Please, you should eat. She gestured towards the food, and he took some bread. I only wondered because if you had revealed your rank as a knight and your name, surely you would have been much better treated.


    Brand swallowed the bread. If they had believed me. Besides, I do not wish my name known. Let my family think I have disappeared rather than receive word of my ignominious end. He pulled the meat of a fowl into pieces, small enough to chew.


    I respect your position. I should warn you that some might be able to piece together your story nheless. You are rather unique.


    Brand raised his head to stare at her eyes, framed by veil and cloth. There is little to distinguish me.


    You are a knight, by your own admission.


    One out of thousands.


    You know our customs. You speak our tongue as if you were born in this city, she pointed out.


    Both can be learned, he argued.


    But it takes time. You seem young, sir knight. Your childhood must have been spent in this city for you to acquire such fluency to pass as a native of Alczar.


    He cleared his throat. A city such as this has many travellers.


    But few knights who live in the Kabirs pce. The manner of your speech reveals you learned our tongue in marble halls, not on the street.


    Brands shoulders tensed. Behind him, the guard shifted his position a little. There are no knights in this pce, as far as I know.


    Not anymore. There used to be, years ago. Sir Athelstan, his name was. He had a squire named Adalbrand, she exined, her gaze wandering while recounting her memories. Before I left for Labdah, on thest day I saw him, I gave him a knotted leather string as is our custom. I believe I see it around your neck in this very moment. She locked her eyes on him.


    Brands hand flew to his neck. His fingertips moved across the leather as ity twisted against his skin. Jana? he whispered.


    She moved one hand to unsp her veil and reveal her face. Forgive me for acting coy. I thought it best to make sure it was truly you. A cautious smile yed on her lips.


    How can this be? He extended one hand towards her; it shook in the air. Behind Brand, the mamluk growled until he pulled his hand back.


    Peace, Salim. Brand can be trusted. The mamluks face expressed his doubt better than any gestures could.


    You were sent away. I thought you were to marry, Brand told her.


    I was. It turned out to be unnecessary. I only returned earlier this year. Waiting until the next time my father needs an alliance, Jana exined.


    Brand exhaled slowly. The gods are kind, after all, tofort me with this meeting. Perhaps  perhaps you can send word to my sister. Do not exin my fate in detail, simply that I met my end trying to do good.


    I asked, but I could not find out why you are even here. All I learned was that you, or yourpanions, set fire to the city, which does not sound like anything you would ever do.


    Brand looked apprehensive. I am far different from the boy you knew. It is true, he admitted. I burned the stores of sailcloth at your fathers shipyard. My hope was to damage his fleet and ruin his ability to wage war against Adalmearc.


    She gave a mournful smile. That does sound like the Brand I knew.


    I did what I could, what I thought right. His expression mirrored hers. I tried.


    I cannot fathom what you have been through, what strange story has brought you back to Alczar, she admitted. But maybe I can help.


    He frowned. How? My crime is clear. There can be no judgement upon me but execution.


    Maybe not. Your fight in the hall has given me an idea, she told him.


    You think your father will listen to you?


    I doubt he would even recognise my face, she confessed. But others hold influence in this pce as well. Have courage, Brand. You are not without friends. Salim gave a growl, making Jana nod. I think Salim is worried should any notice our meeting. I am sorry, but you will have to return to the cells.


    I have suffered worse, he told her with a rueful smile.


    I think I can tell. Your brow is heavy, Brand, with many burdens, Jana told him. Salim ced his hand on Brands shoulder, interrupting their conversation. Yes, very well, Salim. Forgive me. You will have to follow him back. But we will meet again when we can.


    Brand rose to his feet. When we can, he repeated. He inclined his head. Thank you, Jana.


    It is my pleasure. You should go. She watched as he walked out, followed by Salim.

 Chapter 163: An Even Table

    Chapter 163: An Even Table


    Morning was announced in the dungeon by a bowl of cold gruel pushed through the hatch into Brands cell. He had no spoon and had to use his fingers instead.


    He has a fine new coat of fur, but the mouse is back in his cage, squealed Imad from the other side of the door. He was standing on his toes, peering through the barred window. Eat, eat and grow fat, my little mouse.


    Brand finished his meal, ignoring the torturer peeping at him. When he was done, he pushed the bowl back.


    Not a squeak, little mouse? Afraid youll be fed to the cat? Imad giggled to himself, pressing his face against the window of the door.


    Brand smashed his hand against the bars, sending a start through his jailer, who tumbled backwards. The crow is loud while the eagle sleeps, he said from within the cell, settling back against the wall. You should not disturb my sleep.


    Imad hissed, getting on his feet. When they take your head, I will be in the crowd, jeering and cheering!


    Brandy down, turning his back to the door.


    ~~~~


    Salim waited outside Janas chamber. He did this each morning while a ve helped Jana dress and set her hair. Once the ve left to assist the nextdy in the harem, Salim entered, announcing his presence by clearing his throat.


    Good morning, Salim. Jana turned her head quickly, sending him a smile.


    He scowled at her.


    Yes, I understand your hesitation.


    He crossed his arms.


    Fine, your scepticism. But I am only going to talk to my brother. Surely that is harmless.


    He frowned, gesturing at her.


    I have an idea that I will mention to him, that is all. Nothing that will reflect poorly on me, she promised him.


    He asked a question with a raised eyebrow.


    I understand that to you, he is nothing more than a prisoner, and a dangerous one at that. But while he lived in Alczar, Brand was my only friend in this pce. Jana walked over to ce her hand on his shoulder. If I can help him, I believe that I should. If I am to spend the rest of my life in this chamber, at least let me do some good when the opportunity arises. She looked up at him with the pleading eyes of a child.


    He gave a sigh and asked another question.


    Nothingplicated. I will take the morning meal with Rana and her family, and then I will ask Saif to walk with me in the garden. If I can sway him to help me, everything will be fine, and you can rest easy.


    Salim shook his head.


    Always so full of doubt. She patted his arm. I am not even involving you. Why not take the opportunity to see your oldrades in the city? I know you did not gost time I suggested. She had a sly look on her face as she spoke.


    He raised his hands in defeat.


    I will see youter. She smiled at him and left for the dining hall.


    ~~~~


    In his library, the Kabir was served a light meal consisting mostly of steamed vegetables. A ve squeezed a lemon on top of the te and salted the food as well, after which the ruler waved his hand to send him away. As the ve departed, the hgib entered, bowing his head deeply.


    What do you have for me? asked the Kabir.


    Two dispatches of note, my lord. The first will please you greatly.


    Meaning the second will not, and you want to give me the good news first, you rascal.


    The hgib gave a guilty smile. You know me too well.


    Let us hear it.


    We have the final tally of all the ships that Labdah may send us. It is more than we estimated, and they will finish any repairs over the winter. In other words, they are ready when we need them, the hgib informed his master.


    It would have been better if they were ready now, the Kabir muttered. Very well. At least something is going right. What is the other news that have you trembling?


    Nothing quite as terrible, sidi. Simply reports from our garrisons up the coast. Our increased troop movements have put pressure on the sources of water, the hgib exined.


    We have not even sent a thousand in total, the Kabir eximed. They cannot seriouslyck water.


    They do not, sidi, forgive my clumsy exnation. The hgib bowed his head reflexively. But once we move reinforcements towards Maleth, the pressure will increase. Already our soldiers sh with the desert dwellers, and our lieutenants wish to know how to respond.


    The desert dwellers, snorted the ruler. Those primitives. If they cannot find water, they should go elsewhere. Inform the troops to do what is necessary. I will not tolerate anything to impede their march north.


    Very well, sidi, I shall do so without dy. The hgib gave a bow and retreated, walking backwards until he left the room. Alone, the Kabir took a fork and began eating his meal.


    ~~~~


    After the midday meal, Jana took a stroll in the Kabirs extensive gardens apanied by her brother Saif. It was a popr ce for the courtiers to spend their leisure time, though few did so during the noon heat. While the time of the day forced the pair to move from shade to shade, it also afforded them solitude.


    Regardless of the heat, Saif walked with confidence, a smile, and one hand casually on the pommel of his sword. By his side, Jana seemed equally carefree and rxed. Your mother has always been a cheerful person, but these days she seems to burst with it, Jana remarked.


    She is rather pleased, Saif agreed. I think my sisters are exhausted just trying to keep up.


    Well, she has good cause to be. Rumour is around the pce that you are undisputed Fathers favourite.


    The rumour is true, Saif confirmed with satisfaction. He gifted me a sword and his confidence. This very sword, in fact. He pped the pommel by his side.


    I was wondering why you felt the need to walk armed, she considered with gentleughter. I thought maybe Jalils defeat in the hall had made you wary.


    Heughed. Hardly.


    It was quite a spectacle. Better than anything I ever saw in Labdah.


    Saif gave a grin. I should be thankful to the northerner. He gave me not only this sword, but also Fathers favour.


    Oh, is it his?


    It was, Saif corrected with a smug expression. A strange de, but strong metal, I am sure. Father thinks the same.


    Fascinating. Jana cleared her throat. Watching the fight in the hall gave me an idea, actually.


    What idea?


    I suppose it was Jalils idea first, but for once, his thought might have merit, she added with a wry smile. You should arrange for fights like those in Labdah. It would make you popr without doubt, and since you have Fathers ear, I am certain he will allow it.


    I suppose I could, Saif considered. Every fight would remind us all of Jalils defeat, which is quite the extra grape on the stem, heughed.


    Very true, Jana smiled. And you already have an excellent fighter you could name your champion.


    Of whom are you thinking?


    The prisoner, of course, who so handily defeated Jalil. Imagine how incensed he would be!


    Saifughed again. A capital idea. I almost wish it could be so.


    What prevents you?


    He nced at her as they walked side by side. He is a spy. Regardless of his rank, he must die. There can be no leniency in his case.


    You are the future Kabir. Surely such is for you to decide?


    He shook his head with an overbearing smile. Father would never allow it, and I see no reason to ask him. Considering what this spy and hispanions have cost us, he should be grateful for a swift execution.


    It seems so harsh. Do you not owe him a debt? Because of him, Jalil has lost the favour now bestowed upon you, Jana argued.


    That seems contrived, Saifughed. He is an enemy of our city. Death is the only suitable fate for him.


    At his side, Jana turned her head away, biting her lip.


    ~~~~


    Imad bowed his head low. Forgive me, sidi, I cant say. I have no knowledge of where the prisoner was taken.


    Jalil stared down at him with cold eyes. Then tell me what you do know!


    Only that yesterday, a mamluk fetched the prisoner. He took him away for many hours and returned him in the evening, Imad exined.


    And you simply allowed this without question?


    Forgive me, sidi. When a mamluk wearing the livery of the Kabir gives me an order, I obey.


    Simpering fool. Jalil shot a look towards the door behind which Brand was imprisoned. How did the mamluk look?


    Imads tongue moved around his mouth, searching for words. Like a mamluk, sidi. Tall and strong, sword by his side. Short hair.


    That describes all of them, you decrepit vermin!


    Yes, sidi, because they look the same. All mamluks do. Imad bowed his head low again, hiding his expression.


    Did he wear the livery of the Kabirs personal guards?


    I couldnt tell you the difference, sidi, they all look like falcons to me.


    Jalil exhaled in frustration. They all wear falcons, you moron, we are the House of al-Saqr! But the insignia is different whether it is a servant to the Kabir, to the harem, or elsewhere in the pce.


    Forgive me, sidi, I rarely see them. They have little reason to enter my home, and I do not seek them out.


    Jalil muttered a curse. Did the prisoner reveal nothing about where he had gone?


    He is not very talkative, sidi, and I am not allowed to make him talk.


    It must be that old hag Rana in her harem chamber, like a spider in her web, Jalil spat. Tell me exactly what the mamluk told you. How did he convince you to release the prisoner?


    He said nothing to me, sidi.


    Jalil frowned. I thought he came alone.


    Oh yes, sidi, he was most assuredly alone, but he did not speak.


    Jalil balled his hands into fists. I swear, if you do not make sense soon, I will strangle you.


    I think he was mute, sidi, he could not speak.


    But how did he tell you to release the prisoner? Jalil nearly shouted in frustration.


    A written message, sidi. I did not question it. After all, he was a


    A bloody mamluk in the Kabirs livery, yes, I got it. Jalil gritted his teeth. Wait! Where is that message?


    Oh, I think I used it to light a fire.


    You burned it?


    My coals had gone out, you see, and it gets very cold down here, Imad exined. Or maybe that was the letter from my brother he doesnt write interesting letters, sidi. Burning them is the best use of the paper.


    I will stuff those coals down your throat, while they are burning, if you do not find that note!


    Of course, sidi, let me look. Imad cleared his throat and walked away. He rummaged through his tools, opened drawers, looked under pillows, and anywhere else. Ah! He hurried into the chamber where days before, he had tortured Majid and Brand. He bent down next to the table with his tools. One leg is a little uneven, you see, Imad called out to the prince, standing in the central chamber of the dungeons. It has annoyed me for years, but you know how it is, you always put off dealing with it. He pulled out a folded note underneath one of the table legs. But yesterday, with all my prisoners gone and paper in my hand, I finally took care of it.


    Shut up and bring it to me!


    Of course, sidi, at once. Imad hurried back to Jalil, handing him the note. But now my table is uneven again.


    Jalil grabbed the paper from the torturers hand. If you say one more word, I will feed you your own tongue. Imad mped his lips together. Do not speak of any to this, either. The prince turned around and walked away with hasty steps, leaving the torturer to sigh.


    From his cell, Brand looked out between the bars of his window. Seeing Jalil leave, he retreated back into the darkness of his cell.

 Chapter 164: When Hel Approaches

    Chapter 164: When Hel Approaches


    Once more, Salim stood outside Janas chamber as he had done each morning for five years. Once her chambermaid had helped thedy and left, he stepped inside. He did not have to make his presence known; she immediately turned to look at him. Salim, she called out, sounding apprehensive. I have something we need to discuss, and I am aware you will not be happy about it.


    His breath came like a growl through his throat.


    She raised her hands in front of her. Just wait. Let me exin.


    He shook his head.


    Just wait. I thought I could convince my brother to spare Brands life. Maybe I was a little nave, she admitted. But the matter is serious, Salim. They mean to execute him. He could have days to live, or less.


    The mamluk shrugged.


    It does matter! Salim, he is my friend. I cannot stand idle while he dies.


    Salim disagreed, adding a few gestures.


    I do not know! Only that I will think of something. We were able to get him out his cell once. I am sure we can do it again.


    He asked a question.


    I do not know yet, Jana reiterated. We will find some way to get him out of the pce and  maybe on a ship that is bound north.


    Salim crossed his arms, staring at her. He did not look impressed.


    Jana took a deep breath. I know that helping a prisoner escape must carry a heavy penalty. I already thought about it, and I do not wish to involve you


    He snorted.


    But I realise I cannot hope to do this without you, she admitted.


    His expression made it clear that on this, he agreed with her.


    Salim, please, I will never ask another thing of you. When this is done, I will be the most dutiful daughter any Kabir ever had. I will sit in this chamber from sunrise till sunset if you wish it. But please, help me save my friend.


    He asked her a question. When she did not answer immediately, he repeated it.


    I am not sure, she confessed. She looked down at the floor, taking a few steps away. Maybe I just wish to do something for once, to feel that I am important. She looked at him again. But I promise you, it is more than that. For years, I spent every day with Brand. I taught him our speech, and he did the same for me. We would y games, read stories together, explore the pce.


    Salim made no reply, but simply listened.


    When I left Alczar, I buried him in my heart because I thought those days were gone. Returning to this pce, I found memories of him surfacing at every turn, Jana exined. Where we would always sit and eat. The trees we would climb in the garden when nobody watched. The walls where we watched the sunset over the waters. When I saw him in the hall, I thought he was a phantasm  that my mind had conjured the past or that I simply saw what I wished to see. But he is flesh and blood, and all my memories of him are flooding my mind.


    Salim exhaled deeply, but he did not interrupt.


    You remember how sad I was when we left for Labdah? You always thought it was because I was leaving my home. Which was true enough, I suppose. I did my best to forget. I resolved to grow up and ept my fate. And you were with me every step of the way, Salim, always there when I needed you. She walked up to him, taking hold of his hands. I need you one more time.


    He sighed, freeing one hand to make a gesture.


    I knew you would never disappoint me. She smiled at him, and he scowled in return, but only in mockery. Sheughed and threw her arms around him. He returned the embrace, preventing her from seeing the concern etched into his face.


    ~~~~


    Jalil held a crumpled note in his hand. I tell you, someone is plotting!


    His mother regarded him with cool eyes. Obviously. I do not need a scrap of paper to tell me. She reached out to receive it from him. If you will let me read it, at least. She unfolded it.


    The prisoner was gone for hours. Someone questioned him, or instructed him in lies. I can only imagine to further discredit me, the prince dered.


    I suppose it was too much to hope for this to be signed, his mother said to herself.


    This smells of Rana or those courtiers always trailing after her, Jalil imed with anger. As if I have not suffered enough with this northern bastard, they n new indignities against me!


    Calm yourself, my son. Her voice held a trace of disdain. The harm against you has already been done, much in thanks to your own negligence.


    The mamluk carrying this order was mute, Jalil considered. That must narrow it down. How many can there be of those in the pce?


    At least thirty or forty, his mother informed him.


    What? That many?


    Your grandfather preferred it that way. It kept them from spilling any secrets they overheard. He had a cruel streak, as I recall.


    Still, that gives us something to go by.


    For what reason? She stared at her son with little sympathy. If this prisoner had spoken to anyone of importance, I would have heard word of it. Most likely, he was fetched to provide entertainment for some of the boreddies in the harem, easily thrilled at the thought of a little danger. While I hold Rana in little esteem, the old witch would not have been careless in this manner, wasting time to have him bathed and given new clothes.


    You refuse to take this seriously?


    My son, I refuse to lend credence to your foolish notions. This note did note from Rana, that much is clear to me. I have already made my own enquiries into the prisoner. While I once thought he might be of use, he will soon be executed, and my enquiries have turned up nothing of importance.


    Nothing of importance? He humiliated me!


    No, Jalil, you did that. And why did you even go near the prisoner? Did I not forbid you?


    I simply asked his warden a few questions, he replied with a sour expression. And I uncovered something you overlooked, I might add.


    Jalil, I grow tired of how tiresome you are, she told him with an acerbic voice. Leave my presence.


    He stood with open mouth; his tongue moved but did not produce sound. Finally, he turned on his heel and stormed out of her chamber.


    ~~~~


    The Kabir gestured towards Labdah on the great map in his library. First, their ships must arrive, he told his son, tracing a line to Alczar. The mercenaries will be assembled beforehand. Then, the journey begins. Your first destination will be this ind. He pointed at the small ind of Fortnn, sitting at the south-western corner of the Eylonde Sea and the kingdom of Thusund.


    Why this ind? asked Saif.


    Several reasons. The ships of the ind kingdom that patrol the Teeth sail from here. Seizing the harbour will give us many of their ships, the Kabir exined. Most importantly, it will provide us an excellent staging point to invade the maind. Once that is underway, our ships can stop for supplies on the journey to reinforce your army. Besides, we cannot allow the inders to maintain a fleet so close to Drake Run. It would threaten all our reinforcements.


    How strong is the fortress upon the ind?


    Our spies report the garrison is small. Especially as most of the soldiers are spent patrolling the sea. If you seize the harbour quickly, you should have little resistance taking the fortress.


    Very well, Father.


    I will send an advance force of ten thousand troops with you. More than enough to take the ind and prepare the next step. The Kabir pointed at the town of Maleth, sitting up the coast from Alczar. Reinforcements and supplies will be sent here, awaiting the fleets return. That should secure you swift delivery of both.


    Very well, Saif reiterated. He looked at the map and the ind chain known as the Teeth. Could our ships not traverse these straits? We would have no need of the ind, and reinforcing our army would be much swifter.


    The Kabir shook his head. I have made several attempts to investigate this. Our ships are toorge for those treacherous straits. The risk is too severe.


    As you say. The prince hesitated a moment. Father, what is our goal? What is it we seek to win in this war?


    The ruler of the city looked away from his son to fix his eyes on Herbergja. This. This will ensure our trade and keep our city safe. Once it is ours, we may buy all the timber we will ever need from the forest people further to the north  they have no regard for the inders or the great king upon his throne.


    Saif studied the map. We have spies there as well, I presume?


    We do. The Kabir nodded. All the information I have collected will be sent with you. I have also a map of the city and one of the ind. You will know everything needed toy siege to either.


    What of the inders fleet?


    Conquering the first ind should pull a few teeth out, the Kabir considered. Furthermore, the inders are divided at present. We strike at an opportune moment. They should not be able to intercept our reinforcements. Should it happen, the army I send with you at first will still suffice to take the city.


    Saif let a hand rest on the pommel of his sword. It is hard to fathom the time is almost upon us.


    Yet it is. It is time we remove these northern chains upon our city. When all is done, Alczar will be stronger than it has ever been before, the Kabir imed. Come. You must meet the captains of the mercenarypanies that will fight under you.


    ~~~~


    In the afternoon, Brand was fetched once more while Imad watched with curiosity. This time, there was no bath or other dys; Salim ushered him to Janas chamber with speed, avoiding as many eyes on the way as possible.


    Jana, he eximed with a subdued smile. I am d to see you again.


    As am I, though my news is not happy. I do not think I can convince any with influence to stay your execution or even dy it, she admitted, her brow and voice heavy with sorrow.


    It was always doubtful. Who did you ask? The hgib?


    My brother, Saif. He is now my fathers favourite, and we are on good terms, Jana exined. Salim meanwhile moved to stand by the door and nce into the corridor beyond.


    I remember. Is there any other you might petition? His mother?


    If Saif would not listen, she will not either. There is only one option left. You must escape. Jana stared at him, brown eyes into blue. You must.


    I have nothing to lose, Brand considered. But how? You may have gotten me out of the dungeon, but they will know it was Salim who fetched me. He nced towards the mamluk. You will both be held responsible if I do not return. In fact, my previous visit to you has already been noticed.


    Then we should make our ns swiftly, Jana dered. Closing the door, Salim growled in agreement. I have already discussed it with Salim. We are convinced your best chance is to escape tonight while the pce sleeps. Tomorrow it may already be toote.


    How will I get out of my cell?


    Jana looked at her protector. Salim will ensure that.


    Brand followed her gaze. The guard and the jailer will both have to die, else they will reveal your involvement. Are you prepared to have their blood on your hands?


    Salim walked over to ce one hand on Janas shoulder. For me, he is, she exined.


    Brand gave a nod. In that case, I thank you. I know the pce well enough  if only I can get out of my cell, I think I can escape. There is still the orchard door, is there not?


    Salim nodded, adding a gesture. With one guard, Jane said.


    I can handle one guard, Brand imed.


    And what after? A ship to take you north?


    He shook his head. Trusting a captain to let me stow away is far too dangerous. Any that I might approach would be more liable to turn me in. I will have to steal a horse from the stables and leave the city through a gate. With luck, my escape will not be noticed before the gates open for the day.


    Salims face expressed his doubt at such luck, but he kept his hands still.


    Very well. Tonight, Salim will let you out of your cell.


    The mamluk added a flurry of extra motions. He also suggests that he will deal with the guard in the orchard while you steal the horse, Jana said slowly, interpreting as Salim continued. It will be faster, and the guard will not suspect a mamluk.


    If you are willing to do so, I am in no position to reject, Brand confessed, and he bowed his head deeply to Salim. I am grateful. An expression ran across his face. There is something I have forgotten.


    What is it?


    When I was taken captive, I lost my sword.


    Brand, there are plenty of swords in this city alone.


    No, no. He shook his head fervently. This is a sacred de. If I lose it, I am cursed.


    Brand! You cannot be serious!


    If you can find out where it is, I will get it myself, he dered.


    You are willing to take such a risk for a sword? A piece of metal? Jana asked with disbelief.


    Jana, the gods intervene to see me escape certain death, Brand exined. Salim coughed. I cannot dishonour my oath to them. I must have this sword.


    The princess of Alczar stared at the prisoner. Very well, she said at length, though her tone did not agree with her words. My brother has your sword. But there will be a dozen guards tonight between you and his chamber.


    If you only tell me where it is, I can find my way, Brand imed.


    No, you will get caught, and all this will be for nothing. She scowled for a moment. I forgot how stubborn you are.


    The risk is mine. I am prepared to take it.


    No, that is foolish. I will get it, Jana dered. Salim frowned and his fingers moved in the air, which she ignored. The guards will not question my presence. I will get your stupid sword and bring it to you in the orchard.


    Jana, I cannot allow


    You are a prisoner, Brand. What you can and cannot allow is very limited. Besides, I can be just as stubborn as you. She gave him a challenging stare.


    Salim? Brand turned to the other man for aid.


    The mamluk raised up his hands in defeat.


    I suppose I must ept. And lest you think I am not grateful  thank you, Jana, for getting my stupid sword.


    Salim touched Jana on the shoulder. Letting his thumb and finger meet to make a circle, he lowered his hand. Salim is saying the sun will soon go down, by which he means that we are running out of time.


    Yes. Please return me to my cell, Master Salim.


    Wait, Jana bade them both. I am sorry, Salim, you will have to bear this. She flung her arms around Brand in a tight embrace. You make sure that you escape, she mumbled. Do not let me watch you hang from the gallows.


    A little awkward, Brand returned the gesture. I can promise you that, he responded, pulling himself free. I am of noble blood, after all  if anything, it will be the axe for me.


    She choked a little, either fromughter or tears. Go, she told both him and Salim. Before you are the death of me.


    ~~~~


    Back in the dungeon, Salim walked Brand all the way to his cell. As thetter entered the darkness, he sent a final look at the mamluk, who in turn gave a barely noticeable nod. Next to him, Imad pushed the door shut and locked it.


    Brand heard retreating footsteps, leaving him alone with Imad. The torturer, standing on his toes, nced through the bars of the cell door. Once more, the mouse is back. Did you feed, little mouse, before you scurried home to your hole?


    Brand, already sitting down, raised his head to meet Imads gaze. Mypanions name was Majid. He was a champion of the sands in Labdah. That is all I really know of him.


    The mouse speaks, squealed Imad. But only of the dead. Perhaps because soon, the mouse will join them?


    But I know he was too good to die in this gods-forsaken ce. I know he did not that deserve that.


    Imad smiled with all his teeth. Then you shouldnt have killed him, should you.


    When you die, Hel herself will bring you to her halls. You will be cold to the bone, Brand told him. You will know hunger without satiation. Thirst without satisfaction.


    I dont fear your gods, Imad sneered.


    When you walk, you stumble. When you sit, you fall.


    You hear me? Im not afraid!


    When you bend to drink, the water is putrid. When you seek to carve the meat, your knife is dull.


    Quiet!


    When you chew, the food is ash. When you swallow, the drink burns your throat.


    Shut up! Imad banged his hands against the door, causing noise to drown out Brand. Thetter ceased his speech andy down to sleep, ignoring any sound made by Imad.

 Chapter 165: An Orchard Meeting

    Chapter 165: An Orchard Meeting


    At night, the pce was quiet, but not empty. Guards patrolled the corridors. The Kabir and the hgib might both workte, either together or apart. Sometimes, men or women would sneak from one chamber to another, carrying out activities best hidden from the light of day.


    Tonight, Salim was among those walking the hallways. He made no attempt to hide himself; he walked, calm and casual, progressing through the pce. Wearing the Kabirs falcon-crested uniform, none questioned his presence; to others, he was simply another guard.


    Reaching the dungeons, the sentinel by the door sent him a bored look. They got you working the moonlight hours too? he asked.


    Salim raised his right hand, making gestures with it. The guard frowned, not understanding. Meanwhile, Salims left hand grasped his knife. Distracted, the guard was toote to notice the de thrust into his throat, cutting his windpipe. Gasping for breath that would nevere, unable to raise the rm, he sank to the floor; Salim caught him, opening the door beyond to drag him inside the dungeons.


    Closing the door behind, Salim pulled the body into an open cell. Returning to the central chamber, he saw Imad appear from his private room. Whats all this noise? asked the warden, rubbing his eyes. The areay in darkness; only the faint light of glowing embers from coals gave any illumination.


    Salims fist came like the kick of a horse, sending Imad back to sleep. Stepping over his body, Salim found the keys in his room. He crossed the dungeon and unlocked Brands cell.


    Thetter got on his feet swiftly, bowing his head in gratitude as he walked out. Salim ced a hand on his arm, gaining his attention, and drew his knife. He gestured to where Imady unconscious before pointing at himself or Brand, back and forth.


    Let me, Brand said quietly. I should shoulder the responsibility. He took the knife from Salim and walked over to Imad.


    Already, the torturer was waking up. Seeing Brand approach with steel in hand, he began crawling backwards. No, please, no! I wont tell a soul, I swear! Trust Imad, he wont tell! No, please!


    He could not crawl fast enough. Brand stood above him, staring down without pity. The knife blinked as it moved quickly, shing Imads throat open. cing the knife into the rope serving as his belt, Brand grabbed the dying man with both hands and ced him in his bed, leaving him to bleed out.


    Returning to the central chamber, Brand offered the knife back to Salim, who shook his head in refusal. He patted the sword by his side and pointed at Brands empty hand.


    Very well. Thank you, Master Salim, Brand told him. I will see you in the orchard.


    Salim nodded in confirmation and moved to the door. Signalling for Brand to stay back, he opened to peer into the corridor. Finding it empty, he stepped into it, waving for Brand to follow him.


    ~~~~


    A slender, female figure also moved through the pce. Within the harem, the few guards paid her little heed. Their numbers increased as she approached Prince Saifs chamber, but being his favoured sister, none saw reason to bar Janas progress.


    She entered her brothers rooms, muchrger than her own. Besides being richly furnished, they also held statues and other works of art. The walls wore paintings, while maps of foreign cesy on one of the tables. Cautiously, Jana moved further in. The outer chamber had several doors; one of them led to Saifs bedchamber. Seeing no weapon rack or armoire, Jana entered where her brothery sleeping.


    The bedroom had several wardrobes; one contained clothes, the other contained arms. Jana examined both and found thetter, letting her hands move inside to feel the metal of Saifs armour; the darkness did not allow her eyes to see much. With careful motions, she moved her hand until she felt the hilt of a sword. She pulled it free from its rack and brought it close to her face. Her expression turned to disappointment; it was clearly a native de. She returned the sword and tried the next, finding only a long dagger.


    On her third attempt, she retrieved a sword with an emeraldid in the pommel. On the cross-guard, strange marks were inscribed. Straightening up, Jana cautiously removed the sword entirely from the armoire.


    Who  Jana? What are you doing? Blinking repeatedly, Saif sat up in his bed.


    Forgive me, Brother. I did not mean to disturb your sleep. Jana moved, trying to slip the sword behind her back.


    Why are you here at this hour? Is something wrong?


    No, not at all. I am sorry. I should not havee here. I will leave you to your sleep. She took a step backwards towards the door.


    Why do you have a sword behind you? What do you need a sword for? Saif pulled his covers away to sit on the edge of his bed. Jana, what is going on?


    I  simply wished to see it, but I was embarrassed to admit it to you. Silly of me, I know. Jana gave a nervousughter.


    That is the prisoners sword. Saif frowned. My mother heard a rumour he had been sent to the harem Jana, what is happening?


    Nothing, Brother. I am simply being silly. I just wanted to see it.


    Saif stood up. Jana, I have never known you to be silly for one moment. Is the prisoner back in the harem? Are you taking the sword to him? Jana, you know he is a skilled warrior, this could be dangerous! He advanced upon her, taking hold of her shoulders.


    No, Brother, not at all! I have no idea where the prisoner is, Jana imed. She stepped back to escape his grip. I was just being foolish. Please, could you forget you saw me and return to sleep? We will never speak of this again.


    Saif stared at her. Are you helping him escape? Bringing him his weapon to fight his way out?


    No, Saif, nothing of the sort! I just wanted to see what Father gave you.


    Jana, that sword was Fathers gift to me.


    Saif, I need you to forget about me and return to sleep.


    Give me the sword first.


    Saif, do not betray me the way you betrayed Dalia.


    He stared at her with a hurt expression. How can you say that to me? I chose you! I saved you!


    I did not ask for that. But I am asking for this. If you truly care about me, this is what I want. Forget I was here tonight, she impressed upon him.


    I cannot fathom why you would do this, but if it involves the prisoner  his escape will humiliate Jalil further. He returned to his bed. If Father finds out about your involvement, I cannot and will not protect you. Saif did not look at his sister as he spoke his final words.


    Jana gave no reply, but turned around and hurried away.


    ~~~~


    Armed with only a knife, Brand moved silently through the pce. He often had to hide or move into smaller corridors, aided by his knowledge of the premises. Although it took him a long time, he was able to leave the main building without causing rm. Under the cover of night, he moved along walls to reach the stables.


    Inside, the finest horses in Alczar could be found. Brand chose a mare that seemed gentle of mood, allowing him to approach and caress its mane. He looked around in the dark until he saw saddles and other equipment for riding a horse.


    A horse thief as well? eximed a voice. Brand spun around, knife in hand. Jalil stood in the stable, blocking the exit. The prince already had his sword in hand. I should not be surprised, he sneered. Why Jana is helping you, I cannot understand. That foolish girl will be punished, but rest assured, so will you.


    How did you know? asked Brand while his eyes nced around in search.


    You were not nearly as careful as you thought, Jalil told him with obvious delight. He advanced on Brand, sword raised and ready. This pce has countless ears and tongues. But do not worry. I will not kill you now. He gave a cruel smile, whipping his de back and forth in the air. Just hurt you as payment for your insults. And then we will have another duel in front of the court, and everyone can watch as I kill you.


    This time, the prince fought without pretence of any kind. He struck, swiftly and cleanly. With the short reach of his knife, Brand could not retaliate. He had to retreat, step by step. Jalils eyes glowed with malice; he took his time, watching Brand grow desperate.


    Pressed into a corner, Brand ran out of room. He reached for a horse nket with his free hand; at the same time, Jalil made a deep thrust into Brands leg, stabbing him below the knee. There was an outburst born of pain, and Jalil smiled as he pulled his sword back; he did not do so fast enough. Brand threw the horse nket over Jalils sword hand, weighing it down while covering the de. Ignoring his wound, Brandunched himself against the prince, and they bothnded on the ground. Brand thrust his knife into Jalils chest repeatedly, until it was a mire of blood and rags.


    Gasping for breath, Brand ceased his movements. The prince stared with dead eyes at the ceiling. Pain and exhaustion upon his face, Brand got on his feet. He wiped his knife clean on Jalils sleeve and carved away a strip of the princes trousers, using it to bind his own wound.


    Limping, Brand dragged the princes corpse into an empty stall and covered it with the nket. This aplished, he returned to the mare he had originally chosen. The sounds of fighting and the smell of blood had upset the beast; with gentle words andforting touch, he calmed the creature until he was able to saddle it. Taking hold of the reins, he led the horse out of the stable towards the orchard.


    ~~~~


    Jana moved among the fruit trees and their shadows in the moonlight. She had a cloak around her, dark in colour. The ce was deserted at night, and many of the trees were in full blossom this time in the year; their full foliage made her invisible to anybody inside staring out of windows. The ripe scent of countless fruits surrounded her, but she did not seem to take notice; with an anxious look, clutching a sword to her chest, she hurried forward.


    Ahead, she spotted the orchard door; she gave a sigh of relief seeing Salim by it. He was dragging the body of a guard through the doorway. No wounds were upon the in, only finger marks upon his throat; Salim had strangled him with his bare hands.


    Salim! Jana said softly. The mamluk raised his head hearing her voice; he finished pulling the body away, leaving the orchard clear of evidence, and went through the doorway again.


    He sent a few gestures, asking a question.


    Jana nodded. I am fine. Where is Brand?


    Salim pointed at a pale figure, leading a horse towards them. Even from a distance, his hobbled walk was evident.


    You have my sword. Brand smiled weakly. Put it inside the saddlebag.


    Brand, is everything well? Jana asked concerned while she did as he requested.


    Jalil followed me. He cornered me in the stable. I had to kill him, Brand confessed. He must have spied on us. I only hope your involvement can remain secret now.


    Brand, are you badly hurt? You look pale as a ghost.


    Just my leg. He grimaced for a moment, contorting his smile into a mask of pain. I lost some blood, but I can walk. I can ride. I can escape.


    Salim pped his fist against his open hand repeatedly, making his impatience clear.


    Here, Jana told Brand, retrieving a pouch from her garments. She ced it in the saddlebag as well. This is all my jewellery. In case you need to buy your way out.


    Brands smile returned. Thank you, Jana, for everything. I owe you my life. Both of you. He looked at Salim. I should go. He took a step, wincing, and had to grasp the mane of his horse for support.


    Brand!


    I am fine. Just  the blood loss. Little more than I thought. He took another step forward, slowly leading his horse towards the orchard door and his freedom.


    To arms! A murderer is loose! To arms! The cry came in the distant, by the stables.


    They found the prince, Brand mumbled. He hastened forward, but misjudged his own strength, and his wounded leg twisted under him. Acting quickly, Salim reached out to steady him.


    Salim, he will never make it on his own, Jana told the mamluk. He needs our help.


    I am fine, Brand mumbled. He renewed his grip on the reins of the horse, continuing.


    Salim, please, we cannot abandon him now. The princess looked at her protector with pleading eyes.


    Spread out! Search the grounds! Around them, torches appeared in the darkness, encircling them.


    Salim looked from Jana to Brand, trying to pull the horse towards the orchard door; the opening was so low, the mare could barely fit through. The mamluk looked back at the young woman he was sworn to defend.


    Taking a deep breath, Salim nodded to Jana and pushed her in Brands direction. She slipped ahead of the horse, grabbing its reins to help Brand lead the beast forward. Within moments, the two were outside the pce.


    The yells of a guard reached them even there. Over here! The small door!


    Go back, Brand urged her. Before they find you here!


    Jana shook her head. You can barely walk, let alone ride. You will not get far on your own.


    Jana, you have done enough!


    Salim and I will  She was interrupted by the sound of the orchard door being shut and bolted. Salim? From the outside, she hammered her fists against the wood. Salim! It was of no use. The door had no bolt or handle on the outside; it could only be opened from within the orchard. Salim!


    On the other side of the wall, they heard weapons shing and cries of death. Salim was performing his final duty for his mistress.


    Salim! Jana cried out in despair.


    Jana! Brand grabbed hold of her, forcing her to look at him. He is buying us time to escape! We cannot waste it! One hand on the reins of the horse, the other holding Jana, Brand began to hobble away. Tears falling from her face, Jana abandoned the door and followed him.

 Chapter 166: Honey and Oil

    Chapter 166: Honey and Oil


    The princess, the prisoner, and their horse hastened away from the pce. With pained expression and some difficulty, Brand got on the steed, sparing his leg. He pulled Jana up behind him, and they rode away. Few were on the streets at night in the north-western part around the Kabirs pce; they passed through what seemed an empty and eerie city.


    Once they had distance between themselves and any possible pursuers, Brand steered the horse away from the main streets and into the medinas near the maswar. Shielded from most eyes by tall buildings, Brand gestured for Jana to dismount. Once she had, he followed suit.


    What happens now? she asked.


    Leaning against the horse, Brand wiped cold sweat from his brow. We need to escape the city, but that is not possible for a while. His words came tripping over each other, and his breathing wasboured. First, I need several things.


    You need to rest, Jana told him. Maybe we can find you a bed.


    Too suspicious. Help me to sit. He reached out to her, and she took hold of him by the shoulder, gently guiding him to sit against a house wall. How long until sunrise, do you think?


    Most of the night has passed. Some hours, maybe. Are you thinking of when the gates open?


    He shook his head. The marketce. You need to buy some things for me.


    What do you need?


    Wait. First, get me the jewels you brought, he bade her, speaking with heavy breaths.


    She obliged quickly, retrieving the pouch from the saddle bag.


    Thanks. He opened it and chose a ne; the pendant wasid with a few gems. He took the knife from his belt.


    What are you doing? Jana asked, sounding a little aghast.


    Your jewels will look stolen. You try to sell them on the market, the guards will be called, Brand exined. He inserted the tip of the knife into the socket, prying the gems out. But travelling merchants often carry gems, sewn into their clothes. Much easier to hide and to transport than coins. He wheezed the final words.


    Brand, you are not well. She used her sleeve to wipe his forehead.


    You need to know. Listen carefully.


    Yes, I am. Tell me.


    There are jewellers at the small market. They buy and sell gems like these. Brand ced the small rubies in her hand. You are a merchants wife, exchanging these gems to coin for him. Make sure to dispute the price, or they will be suspicious. Demand more.


    I understand.


    Brand raised one hand with a feeble gesture. There is more.


    Yes, tell me, but sparingly. Do not exert yourself.


    Use the coin to buy some things. Most importantly, honey and a small bolt of linen. Brand stared at her with eyes that had a feverish shine.


    Honey and linen? Are you sure?


    Yes, yes. Also water, food for the journey. A cloak of my height. Clothes for you to travel in. Understood?


    I understand.


    Repeat it all to me. Brand coughed.


    Honey, bolt of linen. Food, water, cloak, clothes, Jana told him, staring at his face with concern.


    Good. Take the horse and this. His hand trembling slightly, Brand gave her Salims knife.


    But you may need both! What if they find you while I am gone?


    A beggar raises no suspicion, but a beggar with a horse Brand waved his hand in the air, letting the gesture conclude his sentence. Leave me my sword. I can protect myself with that, he imed.


    Although she looked doubtful, Jana rose and collected his sword from the saddle bag, leaving it by his side against the wall. He took it, cing the scabbard to rest alongside his leg. Less obvious, he remarked, causing another cough.


    Brand, I cannot leave you in this state.


    You must. Else I will not make it.


    Take my cloak at least, for warmth. She began to unsp it.


    No, no. He raised his hand, fumbling against hers to make her stop. Your clothes are conspicuous. Hide them under the cloak. Avoid riding, too. Walk.


    Is there nothing I can do for you?


    Get the things.


    Very well. I shall return as soon as I can, Jana promised.


    Wait. He took hold of her wrist. If I am not here upon your return, wait for me in the maswar. Southern end.


    I shall. She bit her lip. What if you do not show?


    Go back to the pce. Say I took you hostage. Know that you did all you could for me, Brand told her in between short breaths. He leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes.


    She stood, staring down at his pale figure. Seeing him at something resembling rest, she grabbed the reins of the horse and left the alley.


    ~~~~


    East, the sun began to rise, and its light awakened the city. The hojon marched in through the southern gate from Almudaina, dispersing to the harbours and warehouses that relied on theirbour. Vendors opened their stalls, taverns and serais served breakfast and drink, and the cold streets grew warm and bustling.


    With one hand on her knife, the other tightly gripping the reins of her horse, Jana traversed the city of Alczar. The further south she went, the busier it was, and the crowd became more diverse. Merchants with armed guards, servants of high and low status, ves, daybourers carrying great packs of goods, she encountered all of these. It was the first time she was outside the pce on her own.


    Having walked an hour, Jana stopped outside a tavern, where a few men sat, eating the first meal of the day. Forgive my intrusion. Could either of you point me towards the market?


    Im guessing you want the small market, yeah? Not the big one, one of them said with a kind voice. Hispanion on the other hand sent Jana a leering look.


    Yes, thank you.


    Continue down this street a good while. Youll see a stream of people crossing. Just follow them, theyre all headed to the market too.


    Thank you kindly, good master.


    No trouble, child. Take care, you hear.


    She inclined her head to him, took a new hold on the reins in her hand, and hurried away.


    She walked against the current of people; most moved towards the maswar to continue along the other major thoroughfares of the city. Pressing herself against her horse, Jana kept her head down and let the mare split the oing crowd to carve a path forward.


    When the people in front no longer came towards her, but across, she turned and followed them. Going with the stream rather than against, her progress was easier. Soon, a host of coloured canopies met her eye, each covering a stall. Countless voices meshed together in disharmony. Food, cloth, all manner of tools, pottery, and more, all of this was yelled towards Jana. Pulling her hood closer around her face, she continued.


    Asking around, she received directions to the gem traders. They all sat on the same long bench, with one table in front of them and one canopy above. Each had scales and tools; armed guards surrounded the tables.


    Jana approached one who sat idle. Looking up, the trader smiled at her. Please,e. You have precious stones to buy or sell? He gestured for her toe closer.


    I do, Jana confirmed.


    He waved one of the guards forward. Make yourself useful, take the mistress horse. With a snort, the armed man did as told, taking the reins from Jana. It took her a moment to let go, but she finally stepped close to the table. Lets see, what do you have for me?


    Jana took out her rubies. With apprehension, she let them fall onto the ck cloth in front of the trader. He smiled and struck each of the gems with a small hammer. Apparently satisfied, he took a thin knife and tried to scratch each of them. This aplished, he leaned forward while stretching his hand out to hold them into the sun one by one, watching them reflect the light.


    Will this take long? asked Jana, her voice a little unsteady.


    Not at all, good mistress. But you must appreciate that I must be certain of quality, the gem merchant told her with a cordial voice. He ced the rubies on his scale, weighing them. Didnt your husband teach you to never to seem in a hurry? It puts you in a poor bargaining position.


    Jana gave a nervous smile. He has, many times. I forget.


    Very well, they all seem in order. I can pay you fifty silver for each. He looked at her expectantly.


    That will be  Jana interrupted herself. My husband said to get sixty.


    I could not possibly pay that. Fifty-five at most.


    Fine. That will be one hundred and sixty-five, Jana told him, holding out her hand.


    At least she can add numbers, the trader muttered to himself, sticking a hand under the table to pull out a bag of silver. He added five to the purse and handed it over. You may count them, of course.


    I trust you, Jana mumbled, epting the coin. She turned around, nearly bumping into the guard holding her horse. With a faint apology, she took the reins and left.


    You can tell that the husband married her for looks, the trader jested, prompting another snort from the guard.


    ~~~~


    It took Jana more than an hour to move across the market, buying everything that Brand had requested. Once her saddle bags were full, she wiped her forehead with her sleeve. It was not necessarily anxiety causing her to perspire; the sun was growing hot, and she still wore her hooded cloak.


    Unlike in the morning, traffic along the main streets was less uniform at this hour. People moved in every direction, often carrying burdens on their backs or leading donkeys. More than once, people pushed into Jana, and at times, she practically stood still before she felt confident enough to move forward.


    The pressure was relieved as she reached the maswar; the great square opened up before her, allowing people to spread out as they crossed it before streaming together down another congested road. With a grip so tight on the reins that her nails bit into her hand, Jana walked along the edge of the maswar until she reached a small alley.


    Ity in darkness; the tall buildings did not allow sunlight to reach except around noon. Jana moved down the narrow street, finding it empty. She continued further along until other alleys crossed through, peering down either way. Not a soul was in sight.


    The horse stamped its hoof against the cobbled street, mirroring the distress written on Janas face. Brand, she called out, but so quietly, the sound seemed to vanish in the air like smoke. Brand, she repeated. There was nothing but empty stonework to reply.


    Grabbing the reins, she turned the horse around and went back to the maswar. Stepping into the sunlight, she pulled the hood tighter over her head and walked towards the southern end. Halfway there, standing in the middle of the square, she paused and looked over her shoulder.


    In the northern end, the Tower of Justice rose in dark stone. Janas eyes, starting at the tall structure, followed the edge of the maswar. She nced over therger streets and the smaller, each of them feeding traffic into the maswar like rivers into the sea. Frowning, she began to walk back.


    Reaching the alley she had just left, she continued to its neighbour. Finding only childrenughing and yelling at her, she moved to the next. She pulled her hood down, narrowing her eyes as she walked from sunlight into darkness.


    Jana?


    She let out a deep sigh. I was so afraid, she admitted, hurrying forward to kneel next to Brand. How are you?


    Alive. You have it all?


    I do. She stood up, patting the saddle bag on the horse. Everything you asked for.


    Good. Get out the water and the honey. Jana dug out the aforementioned items, cing them on the ground. Get me the linen. She found the bolt of fabric and ced it in his hand. Your knife. She gave him that as well and watched as he cut some of the cloth. Douse the cloth with water. She did so. I need you to clean my wound.


    Oh. Of course. She sat down by his leg. Even with sparse light, a dark-red colour could be seen, making her shiver. She took the wet rag from Brand and did her best cleaning dried blood and dirt away. It is done.


    He took the jar of honey and handed it to her. Put this on.


    You mean  on the wound?


    He nodded. It will prevent infection.


    The things I learn today, she mumbled, causing a faint smile to appear on Brands face. He was still pale, but he did not sweat or shiver. Carefully, she applied the honey like a paste upon his wound. There.


    Brand cut a long piece from the bolt. Bandage it with this. Careful it does not get dirty from the ground.


    Of course. I  I need to move your leg up, though.


    He nodded in eptance, wincing only a bit. Soon, his wound was treated and bandaged. Thank you.


    I am d to help. She gave him a joyless smile, standing up.


    Put this back, please. He handed her the remaining linen, and she returned it to the saddle bag.


    I should put  wait. She patted the inner pocket of her cloak. The silver! I had a purse! Someone stole it!


    That is Alczar for you. Brand still spoke slowly, but his breathing no longer sounded like the bellow of a forge.


    At least I got everything. This is for you. She grabbed a cloak from the other saddle bag, unfolding it to ce it like a nket over him.


    Thank you.


    Sinking down to sit next to him, back against the wall, she blew out her cheeks. What a morning.


    Indeed.


    What happens now?


    They will be watching all the gates, Brand considered. We wait until it gets dark. Try to escape just before nightfall. If they discover us, we can lose them in the dark.


    That makes sense. Do you think we are safe here until then?


    No. The horse makes us look strange. Do you have any coin left?


    A few.


    He nodded a little, leaving his head bent forward like a drunk. We stable the horse at a serai for the day. Eat somewhere. Move around a bit. Avoid staying in one ce. Avoid suspicion.


    Brand, you are breathing heavier, and you sound worse again, Jana told him, sounding worried.


    He waved one hand in front of him, trying to make a dismissive gesture. It will be fine. I rest a little. Then we leave.


    If you say so, she assented, though her demeanour was suffused with concern.


    You can still go back.


    What? Go back where?


    To the pce. Say I took you hostage. Do not throw everything away for me.


    She shook her head fervently. If I leave you  if you get caught She cleared her throat. It will all be for nothing. Salim will have he Her voice began to quiver.


    I know. I know. I understand, he told her in between his troubled breathing. I will not say it again. For now, I rest. Just for a moment.


    She adjusted herself, letting him lean his head against her shoulder. As he closed his eyes, she used hers to keep watch; although she saw nothing to cause concern, her expression remained fearful.


    ~~~~


    Once Brand felt strong enough, they abandoned the alley and followed his n. The horse was stabled for the remainder of the day, and theirst silver was spent on a warm meal. Despite Brands injured leg, they did not stay long in one ce but moved around the medinas near the serai that stabled their horse. Neither spoke much, and both kept their cloaks close around them.


    As sunset approached, the pair fetched their horse and saddled it. Leading it by the reins, they moved east towards the Purple Gate. Getting close, they saw the road leading out of the city was blocked. Scores of people stood, waiting to leave Alczar. Peasants on their wagons, ordinary travellers, and a caravan of camels and carts crowded the gate, none of them able to move forward. The guards inspected everything and everyone, taking their time.


    This will be a problem, Brand muttered. If they look closely at us, we are sure to raise their suspicion. I doubt we can bribe them either. Not when they are searching for the murderer of a prince.


    Perhaps we should stay in the city? Jana suggested. If we give it a few weeks, maybe they will ease their vignce, and we can slip out unnoticed.


    Without coin, I am not sure how well we can hide ourselves. Besides, I need to reach Adalmearc before winter closes the paths. I must warn them of the invasion, Brand told her quietly. They were trying to push their forward, without luck; they were surrounded by beasts, wagons, and the men driving both.


    But how can we get through? Jana stood on her toes, looking at the gate. She could spot around ten soldiers. Most examined the travellers seeking to leave the city, while the rest kept watch of the crowd.


    We need a diversion.


    Like you did at the docks. You lit a fire to draw attention.


    Something like that, Brand confirmed.


    These barrels Jana looked at the many different goods stacked around them. Wait here. I have an idea.


    Before Brand could object, she disappeared in between camels and travellers, weaving her way around the crowd. As Brand tried to look in every direction while also keeping his face covered by his hood, Jana moved from cart to cart, exchanging a few pleasant words here and there.


    Soon, she returned to him. I have an idea, she repeated.


    Nothing with running, I hope. He shifted his weight away from his bad leg.


    There is a barrel ofmp oil on that wagon over there. She nodded with her head to indicate the direction.


    All we need


    Let me handle that. Jana gave what resembled a confident smile.


    Jana, be careful! Brand urged her. A panic in this crowd could cause a stampede.


    Given our situation, everything we do involves great risk, she pointed out. Will you be ready? She sent a look towards his injured leg.


    I will. He straightened up to get a better look at the barrel in question. I am just worried.


    She squeezed his arm. Wait for me. Once more, she moved through the throng of people, leaving him.


    By the gate, a merchant argued loudly with one of the guards. Sidi, please! My caravan must leave today!


    I dont see how thats my problem, came the reply. Now move aside.


    Sidi, if were not allowed to leave right now, Ill have to find stables for the night for all my animals! Itll cost me a fortune, the merchant whined. He nced towards the west, as if he could see the setting sun beyond the city.


    My heart bleeds. Look, youre simply too many. Itll take us ages to search your entire party, and were closing the gate soon. Youll have toe back tomorrow.


    Sidi, you dont understand. Itll cost me at least thirty silver. The merchant lowered his voice while ncing around.


    The guard sent him a look. Thirty silver?


    At least. The trader hefted the heavy coin purse by his waist.


    Too bad! The guard gave a sneer. Now get back, and get your caravan out of here! Come back tomorrow.


    Commotion spread among the packed crowd hoping to pass through the gate. Most were unable to see the reason and could only discern the ripples moving through the people. Only those close by witnessed the curious sight.


    A young woman entered a serai and stole amp, running out while being chased. Once among the host of travellers, she escaped her pursuers. As her next act, she threw the litmp straight onto a cart and its load. It broke, spilling oil and mes over the barrels on the wagon.


    Run! screamed the driver, jumping down. Thatsmp oil!


    A pir of fire erupted, spitting mes in every direction. Shouts and shrieks could be heard as people fled. The square turned to chaos. Animals reared and ran away, some with carts hitched to them. In the ensuing panic and stampede, people were trampled and injured. Blood was in the air, and those standing in safety could do nothing but watch.


    Through the noise and dust, a man came riding on a horse. He bent down to pick up a woman, slinging her onto the back of his steed. Spurring the beast onwards, they rode straight through the gate, shielded by the disruption. By the time the guards realised what was happening, the horse and riders had already passed them, galloping away from Alczar.

 Chapter 167: Wellspring

    Chapter 167: Wellspring


    Once they could no longer be seen from the city walls, the fleeing pair turned away from the main road. Instead, they rode at a slower pace through the farnds surrounding Alczar; most of it was upied by fruit trees able to survive the long summers with little rain. When they had not seen another living being for a while, Brand halted the horse.


    We should walk a while. We have already exhausted our steed, galloping while carrying two.


    As you say. Jana dismounted and extended one hand to help Brand do the same. He did his best to spare his wounded leg, but still he winced as his foot touched the ground. Are you sure you can walk? Maybe you should continue riding, and I will walk alongside.


    No, the beast is in worse shape than me at this point. He supported one hand against the saddle. Can you lead the horse? I think it best I walk in this manner, using it as a crutch.


    Yes, of course. She moved to the other side of the creature, grabbing the reins. Ready?


    As if all the Kabirs men were chasing me.


    Funny. Why do you even need a sword when you have such sharp wit? She set into motion, and both her four-legged and two-leggedpanion followed suit.


    It would be too cruel to use my wit as a weapon. The sword is a more merciful death. He reached out and plucked a solitary plum from the branch above his head; the rest had been harvested, either by human hands or birds.


    They walked in silence for a while until Jana spoke again. I realise this is ate question, but as all my thought was spent thinking about fleeing the city, I never gave much consideration to afterwards. What is our destination?


    Do you know Maleth?


    I know of it. It lies up the coast, correct?


    It does. That is our destination. From there, we can find passage into Adalmearc.


    Really? I did not think any ships sailed from Maleth to the Seven Realms.


    Brand gave a vague smile. They do not officially. Fortunately, gold can change many a tune.


    How long will it take us to reach Maleth?


    When I came the other way, to Alczar, it took us two weeks. But I travelled on the roads with a caravan. I think we will need at least three weeks, he spected.


    We do not have food for half that, Jana pointed out, biting her lip. And we cannot buy more because I was foolish enough to let someone steal our remaining coin!


    We still have what remains of your jewels. Even without the gems, they are valuable, Brand mentioned, looking at her. Jana, he called out until she nced over her shoulder to meet his eyes. You got me out of the dungeons. You got my sword back. Your jewellery has paid for everything we bought. I am walking amidst the shade of trees rather than up the scaffold on the maswar. All because of you.


    She looked away. I know. I am just a little overwhelmed, she admitted with an unsteady voice. If we escape my fathers men, survive hunger and thirst, reach Maleth and bribe our passage to Adalmearc, what then? If my father truly intends to invade, I will be an enemy to all in yournds.


    I realise that I do not cut an imposing figure right now, but I do have friends in the Realms. Some are influential. Your good deed towards me will not be forgotten, I promise. He stopped walking. Jana. She stopped as well; her eyes peered over the back of the horse to meet his. I promise.


    It took a while before she responded. Very well. You have never given me reason to doubt you. She turned to move onwards and almost tripped in the dark.


    It is too dark to continue, he considered. It had been near twilight when they fled the city; now, the sun had set in full, and they had fumbled their way forward for a while. We must sleep.


    You think we are safe out here in the open?


    I cannot say, but we have nowhere else to go. We need to avoid other people.


    She nodded. Of course.


    Brand caressed the horse, making it lie down. It will be cold, he told Jana. We should stay close to the beast for warmth. Being careful of his injury, Brand sat down, leaning against the side of the horse. He gestured for Jana to do likewise, and she followed his example. Their backs against their animalpanion, they each pulled their cloaks tighter around themselves and closed their eyes, letting exhaustion take over.


    ~~~~


    The next day, they continued their journey, using the sun to set their course northwards. They walked, letting the horse recover after yesterdays hard ride. Around them, thend slowly grew more barren. Trees were reced by thorny bushes, serving no purpose but to feed goats. On asion, a boy tending to a herd would watch them with curious eyes; each time, they kept their distance.


    Theck of trees also meant they could not walk in shade, but had to suffer the sun. Their lips grew dry, and the horse made asionalints.


    Brand, our water will onlyst a few more days, Jana finally remarked. As before, they walked on opposite sides of the horse, both of them keeping their eyes on the road ahead.


    Sooner orter, we will find a stream.


    I think our only hope is to find a well. We have seen people, so there must be viges nearby.


    Brand shook his head. Only caravans and peasants travel in these parts. We are far too easy to remember. Should the Kabirs mene this way asking questions, they will guess the truth.


    If our only other option is death by thirst, we have to risk it, Jana pointed out.


    If we keep going north, we are bound to cross a brook or simr, feeding into the sea, Brand imed.


    Maybe. If that happens in a weeks time, what will we do without water in the meanwhile?


    This many people cannot live in this ce without freshwater. More than what wells provide. There must be a stream, Brand maintained with a weary voice.


    Brand, look around. Jana gestured with her arm at their surroundings. Thend is only getting more barren. There are no fields ahead of us, nothing to suggest an abundance of water.


    Just give it a few days.


    You said you came this way, travelling from Maleth to Alczar. Do you remember crossing any streams of water?


    Yes, at least once, Brand responded.


    Where?


    He cleared his throat. Further north.


    Where exactly?


    A few days south of Maleth, he admitted. He was forced to a sudden halt; Jana had moved around the horse to stand in front of him.


    I knew it! Brand, we need to get more water soon.


    We have for at least another day or two. Why are you pressing this issue? he asked.


    Because if our skins were full, you might actually drink some! You need water to heal. She nced at his leg. Right now, the horse has had more water than you!


    The horse needs more than me. I am only making sure itsts.


    Exactly! If we used the wells, there would be no need. You could drink your fill.


    He shook his head weakly. I have been through worse.


    Well, I did not have to watch you on those asions, and I will not do so now. The next chance we get, we are getting more water. She turned her back to him, resuming her position, and they continued onwards, walking for hours until past sunset.


    ~~~~


    Despite both of them keeping an eye out, they did note across any sources of water until the next day. Around noon, they spotted a small collection of huts. Just beyond the edge of what could be called the vige, there stood a well. Besides from the asional viger, a few soldiers could be seen, milling around a tent raised in the middle of the cluster of huts. Beyond that, one of the warriors guarded the well itself, and they wore the falcon of Alczar upon their uniform.


    Too dangerous, Brand dered. They were hidden behind a rock formation, letting them spy on the vige.


    If this well is guarded, so are the others. We might as well attempt this as any other, Jana argued.


    If they suspect the least we must assume they know we are travelling together and are watching for a pair like us, Brand considered. I count at least three or four soldiers with spears. With no armour, my injury, and only a sword, I cannot expect to win that fight.


    Then let us not make that an option. I will go alone. They have no reason to suspect me, Jana imed.


    It should be me taking the risk.


    Why? You cannot fight them, and you cannot run away. Besides, fetching water is a womans work. They will grow suspicious the moment they see you.


    Brand sent her a look before gazing back at the well. Maybe. But if you appear with water skins, they will also know something is odd. Wait here. I will fetch something more suitable.


    Let me go. I am not wounded.


    Brand smiled weakly. Jana, I ept your other arguments. But between the two of us, I think I am more ustomed to sneaking around quietly.


    She stared at him for a moment. Fine, she conceded. But be careful.


    He nodded in response and moved away, following the rocks and cracks in the ground to hide his approach towards the vige. Soon, he was gone from Janas vision, and she resumed watching the vige. The small buildingsy scattered with little discernible pattern to their cement. Some had their doors towards the well, others in the opposite direction. Most had openings in the walls serving as windows to let in air and light. ss was too expensive for these people, and the windows had shutters instead, allowing for the sun to be shut out when desirable. With the noon heat growing stronger, most windows were closed in this manner, and few of the vigers seemed willing to move about. As for the Kabirs soldiers, they kept inside their tent except for the unfortunate soul chosen to stand guard over the well.


    Jana.


    A start went through her; she turned around to find that Brand was already back. You really are good at sneaking.


    He gave a little bow with a mock smile and extended his hand that held arge gourd. For thedy.


    I feel guilty. This belongs to someone else. She epted it hesitantly.


    Well, we should hurry before they miss it, Brand suggested. Jana turned around to leave. Wait! I forgot.


    What?


    Hold out your hands, he bade her as he crouched low.


    What for? she asked,plying.


    He picked up dirt from the ground and began smearing it on her hands. Your hands give you away. Too clean for someone working.


    Right, she assented. He began repeating the process with her face, making it dirty. What is that for?


    You are far too beautiful to approach a band of soldiers, bored from guard duty.


    Oh.


    We do not want to give them any reason to look at you twice.


    Of course.


    He studied her new appearance with a critical eye. Not the best disguise, but it will have to do.


    Jana gave him a half-hearted smile and walked towards the well, gourd in hand.


    She disappeared from Brands line of sight, just as he had done earlier from hers. After a while, she appeared again between the huts, moving towards the well. He watched intensely, barely blinking. As Jana reached the well, the soldier moved towards her. He towered over her.


    Turning on his heel, Brand leapt the few steps back to his horse. He ripped the saddle bag open and drew his sword from its sheath. Facing the well again, Brand limped forward. He took a few paces before he stopped. The soldier was pulling up the bucket from the well to fill Janas gourd for her.


    Visibly rxing, Brand returned to his post behind the rocks, hiding himself. Keeping the sword ready, he saw Jana bid the soldier farewell and walk away.


    A few momentster, she appeared by his side. Is everything fine? she asked, ncing at his drawn weapon.


    Yes, he mumbled. He crossed the short distance to the horse, returning the de to its home. Picking up the full gourd from Jana, he ced it in the other bag.


    Brand, Jana called out; her voice was quiet but urgent. He turned around and saw as she did; several of the guards were moving in their direction.


    We made them suspicious, Brand guessed.


    How?


    It does not matter. Time to flee. He mounted their steed and helped Jana do the same. Once her arms held onto his waist, he pulled on the reins while kicking the nks of the horse, and they sped away.


    ~~~~


    When no pursuers were in sight, Brand let the horse fall into a slow trot. What happened, do you think? asked Jana. The same roughndscapey ahead of them as behind, with sparse vegetation and few if any creatures in sight.


    Could be any number of things, Brand considered, speaking over his shoulder. Maybe the guard realised he had never seen you before in the vige. Maybe he thought it odd you fetched water at noon. Someone could have noticed I stole the gourd. It does not matter. We got away.


    With the water, most importantly. We should stop and drink, Jana suggested.


    Not yet. Our tracks are easily seen. We need to put more distance between us and them.


    You are sure they are following us?


    If they only had suspicions before, seeing us ride away would certainly have confirmed them, Brand pointed out. We must assume the Kabirs men are on our trail now.


    Can we lose them in the dark? Like we did after the city gate.


    Brand nodded. We have to. Even if it is troublesome.


    It was not so badst time, Jana considered. I only fell twice.


    We will not do it for long. We just need to make sure they cannot catch up to us.


    I will walk all night if need be, Jana dered. The tail end of her words was caught up in a yawn.


    It will note to that, which, by the sound of it, is for the best. Brand wore a wry smile she could not see.


    What about you? Are you not tired? You sleep as little as me.


    I have been through worse.


    I am starting to suspect that is merely what you say to keep me quiet.


    Mydy, I would never dare.


    ~~~~


    As agreed, they walked for a while after sunset. Far from roads, the terrain was rough, and their speed was slow. Something resembling grass grew in these parts, allowing for herds to graze; besides that, the only feature was how thend twisted itself with rocks and cliffs.


    Brand was the first to stumble, gritting as tremors went through his injured leg. Considering that a sign to stop, they made the same kind of primitive bed as before, resting with their backs against the horse. Both fell asleep at once.


    Brands reposested only briefly before voices awakened him. He reached out a hand to cover Janas mouth. The touch jostled her awake, and she struggled for a moment until she recognised Brand. He ced his finger on his lips.


    What in Haktars bloody name is the point of this? We cant see a damn thing!


    Look, you know that, I know that, and I suspect the lieutenant does too. But were not out here because they think well find them.


    What?


    Were out here, said the second voice patiently, so the lieutenant can tell his chief that hes done all he can to find the prisoner. And his chief can tell his chief, who tells his, all the way up to the Kabir himself. Both of the voices were growing louder.


    Youre telling me, I almost sprained my ankle back there, just so we can put on a show?


    Thats soldiering for you, friend.


    The first voice made a sneer. To Haktars bowels with this! Do we even know that fellow is out here? What if hes gone to Gadir, drinking tears till his heades off?


    What I want to know is, how did he manage to abduct the girl?


    Not the first time a mans taken off with a woman, is it.


    But see, escaping from the dungeons, that must be hard, right? reasoned the second voice. And stealing the Kabirs daughter from the pce, that must be damn difficult too, right? So how does this guy manage both at the same time?


    Huh. Maybe we got ourselves a new Prince on our hands.


    The voices grew more distant. Doubtful. Rather, something else entirely is going on, and this is just the story they served us.


    All those mercenaries the Kabirs got, why cant they do all this night searching?ined the first voice. If I sprain my ankle, you know the lieutenant is going to leave us behind.


    Us? Why would he leave me behind as well?


    What, youre going to make me hobble on my own all the way back to camp?


    If the second voice had a reply, it did not reach Brand and Jana. The pair waited, neither making the least movement or sound, until it seemed certain they were alone.


    How did they find us? Jana whispered.


    Our tracks brought them this far. They must be a wholepany,bing the area, Brand considered, also keeping his voice quiet.


    So we can expect them to be in any direction we go.


    Brand looked up, finding the Wayfarer that pointed north. He turned his head right. Not if we go east.


    The desert?


    They cannot track us there.


    How long can west?


    We will go a few days, Brand suggested. Move back to the coast when we need.


    Jana nodded, barely visible in the dark. Very well. We might as well move. I doubt either of us wants to sleep knowing my  my fathers men are near.


    With careful movements, they rose and woke the horse as well. Once it was saddled, they began a slow march east.

 Chapter 168: Dust

    Chapter 168: Dust


    A deste regiony between the South Cities along the coast of the Mydlonde Sea and the Langstan to the north. The people of Alczar called it a desert in memory of the great dunes south of the Mydlonde Sea, whereas the Mearcians styled it as the southern wastnds. It rained only scarcely, and the ground swallowed all water greedily until nothing remained; no rivers or brooks flowed through the wastnds. It was rocks and cliffs with barely a de of grass. Only a few hardy tribes of nomads lived in these parts, moving their small herds to the few patches worth grazing and drinking from wells whose location was jealously guarded. Into this wastnd travelled Brand and Jana.


    The sun was warm, but not unbearable; summer had long since passed, and harvest season approached winter. Still, they took breaks around noon, especially if they came across rocks suitable to hang their cloaks from, creating a primitive tent with shade. In such cases, they slept for a few hours, fearing no interruption. The stony terrain underneath their feet left no tracks for any pursuers to follow.


    Neither spoke during the day; mindful of whaty ahead, they drank little, and their lips were cracked dry. Food was another issue. Foraging was impossible, and they had only whaty in the saddle bags. The horse could graze a little on asion; beyond that, they had nothing.


    On the first evening, they huddled together as before; in this emptynd, the nights were especially cold. Pulling her cloak around her, Jana settled in against the horse. Brand, do you think we should leave the horse?


    It is useful if we need to make a hasty escape.


    Our water couldst several days longer without it.


    Brand attempted to shake his head; little movement ensued. Sooner orter, we must return to the coast to refill our water regardless. We may need the horse likest time.


    As you say. That means we need to try our luck in two, maybe three days.


    We can go nearly a week, I am sure.


    Brand, she eximed with an admonishing tone. I would object, but I am too weary.


    Same. Let us sleep.


    ~~~~


    The next day was the same as its predecessor. Nothing about thendscape changed; they would have to walk north for weeks before they would approach greener pastures and eventually the Langstan. The only break in the days journey was when they found a rocky outcrop, letting them seek some shade below.


    Jana, your shoes. She sat with her back against the stone, giving Brand a view of her soles. He crouched down to take a closer look.


    They are fine. It is good leather.


    It is thin leather, not meant for traversing deserts, Brand corrected her. I am amazed they have not fallen apart already. They are nearly in tatters.


    Are you going to waste time talking? You cannot be as tired as you look.


    He sat down next to her. You should ride the horse. Before you injure your feet.


    I suppose we might as well make use of it. You should do the same.


    My boots willst.


    Where did you get them? I did not buy you any.


    I stole them from the pce on my way out.


    Maybe I can walk with them while you ride.


    He gave a wry smile. I doubt they would fit. They are already too big for me.


    Somewhere in Alczar, a man with enormous feet is walking around without shoes, Jana mused.


    Hopefully, he got another pair since then.


    ~~~~


    Each night, they shared a drink of water before seeking rest. They drank it slowly, letting the liquid fill the mouth and soak the tongue, savouring it. As for the horse, it simply gulped it down, making weakints for more that were denied. The mare had already lost weight, and the saddle could barely fit around anymore.


    She will notst much longer, Jana remarked, petting the horse. Not much more than a day.


    We will move towards the coast soon, Brand promised.


    Theyy down for another nights sleep, but Jana did not close her eyes. I wonder at something.


    What?


    Do you think they took Salim alive, or did he  is he dead?


    Brand gave his answer slowly. I think he was too good a warrior to let them take him alive.


    Of course. They would punish him the way you were treated.


    I fear so, yes.


    She hesitated, swallowing despite her thirst. So he is dead because of me.


    I am sorry. He seemed a good man.


    He was. Always trustworthy, always protective. Always caring.


    I am sorry, Brand repeated through cracked lips.


    He was not just my guardian, he was  father, brother, all good things to me.


    Then I am d he was in your life, and you were not alone.


    Me too, but She sent Brand a look. He did not deserve to die for it.


    Often it seems those who deserve it least suffer the most.


    I do not know how to carry this weight. The burden of his death. She gazed upwards at the stars.


    With an exhausted expression, Brand closed his eyes. It gets easier. Though it never leaves you. Maybe that is how it should be.


    How do you know?


    Brand exhaled. I had a sergeant. He was young. He must have lied about his age to join. He followed me across mountains into wastnds. He died taking a de meant for me.


    And you are still burdened by it?


    By him and many others. Another deep breath escaped Brand. Salim is only thetest to die for me.


    I thought you said it gets easier.


    It does. A little. At some point, a whole day will pass where you do not think about it. Later on, two days in a row.


    But it never stops entirely?


    Brand rolled his head from side to side in a weak imitation of shaking it. Somebody will say a word in the same manner. You see someone with simr looks. You remember fondly something that happened and suddenly realise who was also present.


    I suppose that is for the best. I do not ever want to forget Salim.


    Nor me.


    Jana closed her eyes. Good night.


    ~~~~


    They woke the next morning and made their quick preparations to start the journey. You should ride today, Brand suggested to Jana.


    If the mare has to carry me, she will notst the day, Jana cautioned him.


    Brand surveyed thendscape ahead of them; it was the same as the days before. I cannot say how far we have travelled. I fear we might still run into soldiersbing the coast for us.


    In that case, I shall walk another day, Jana decided. But tomorrow we must turn west. Else the horse dies.


    You are right. Tomorrow. Brand turned, keeping the rising sun to his right, and began walking.


    They had barely begun before Jana called for his attention. Brand, behind us.


    He looked back and saw the same as her. Clouds of dust being kicked into the air, telling of riders moving fast. They might not have seen us, Brand said, though he did not sound hopeful. Let us go. They set into motion once more.


    ~~~~


    They did not stop for the remainder of the day. Every now and then, they looked behind, and eventually they saw no further signs of others in the wastnd. Even so, they continued past sunset until all twilight was gone. When darkness surrounded them, making each further step a hazard, they finally stopped.


    We need to change your bandage, Jana remarked as Brand unsaddled the horse. She opened a bag to take out what remained of the linen bolt. Obligingly, Brand sat down and carefully unwound the old bandage. When he was done, he extended his leg. Sit still, Janamanded him.


    I am.


    Just in case you considered not sitting still. She had to move her face close to examine his wound, having only starlight for illumination.


    How does it look?


    Dark.


    It feels better.


    Liar. Janas smile was hidden in the darkness, but it resonated in the one word spoken.


    I would never.


    We need to drink. She finished with the bandage, returned the linen, and took out the gourd. She handed it to Brand. You first. He ced the vessel against his open lips and used his tongue as a stopper, letting only a few drops pass. He tried to hand the gourd over to Jana, who shook her head. Another sip, shemanded.


    He did as before, letting barely any liquid trickle past. There. Your turn.


    She stared at him with suspicion. Last night, you categorically refused. She epted the gourd, taking a sip herself.


    It is impolite to argue with ady, as I havee to remember.


    Betterter than never, I suppose. She hesitated before she spoke again. Brand, we must turn west tomorrow. The horse will notst longer, and I admit, I doubt myself. I realise how this sounds, given you are the one wounded, but I have to be honest.


    I understand. He nodded a bit.


    I never nned to journey this far, she continued. I have never walked this much in my life. I am exhausted, Brand.


    Of course. We will go west tomorrow morning.


    She took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. I would have brought better shoes, had I known.


    I will give you better warning next time.


    She gave him half a smile. I swear, Brand, I am trying to be strong. Trying not toin. Trying to keep going. At day, I am delirious from thirst. At night, I think about Salim.


    I am sorry. Truly. I know what I have cost you, Brand confessed.


    No, do not be. It was my choice to apany you. I do not aim to ce further burdens on you.


    I know.


    We should sleep.


    We should.


    ~~~~


    When morning came, they set a course west as agreed. Their pace was sluggish as on the other days, and only the position of the sun told them they had changed direction; ahead, thend looked as uninviting as ever. Suddenly, Brand stumbled, and he had to grab onto the saddle strap to stay upright.


    Brand! Jana walked around the horse, looking worried. Are you hurt?


    I am fine. My foot hit this. Curious. He crouched to pick up a small stone. It was elongated in shape, but no longer than his hand. It was clearly carved, resembling a warrior. Whether due to crude craftsmanship or design, neither eye upon the depicted person had an iris.


    Brand. Jana grabbed his shoulder while pointing, making him stand up. In the distance behind them, dust rose in a whirlwind. This time, it was close enough that they could discern the shape of riders.


    Hurry. They resumed their positions, Jana leading the horse by the reins while Brand used the saddle for support, and moved forward. Despite the urgency, their pace remained slow; none of them had the stamina to match their fear.


    Two things soon became apparent. The other group was pursuing them, and their mounts had the strength to ride fast. Each time either Brand or Jana looked behind, their followers had gained upon them.


    Jana, Brand called out softly as they walked.


    Yes?


    Your father will invade the ind of Fortnn first. Once he has the castle, he will continue his invasion from there. Probably raid all the inds to keep Thusund from gathering its strength.


    Why are you telling me this?


    I need you to pass this knowledge on.


    What? To whom? Why are you saying this now?


    In Maleth, find a boat willing to take you through the Teeth. Brand was wheezing between words, struggling to keep up the pace. Find someone beyond the strait. Anyone. Warn them.


    Brand, I think you should ride the horse, Jana suggested.


    No, you should.


    You are clearly worse than me. Brand, please, get on the horse.


    Brand tried to shake his head. No. I will not get far. You can.


    I am not going anywhere without you.


    Please. Maybe  if your father is stopped at Fortnn, he will give up. Many lives can be saved.


    All that matters right now is your life. I implore you, please, drink some water. Instead of walking forward, Jana moved to stand in front of Brand.


    He swayed in front of her. Toote for me. I will not make this escape.


    I am not leaving you.


    Brand turned towards the horse, using both hands to support himself. You must. Prevent the war. His fingers fumbled with the saddle bag.


    What are you doing?


    Brands hand dove into the pack and grasped the hilt of his sword. With a bboured movement, he pulled it free. I will buy you time. Go now. Ride. He exhaled rather than spoke each word.


    You cannot fight, you can barely stand! Brand, I beg you, let me help you!


    He looked in her direction with eyes unable to focus on hers. Go. He turned his back to her, facing the oing riders. His feet moved into the proper stance, and he raised his sword. For a moment, he stood ready for battle; in the next, he copsed onto the ground.

 Chapter 169: Badawin

    Chapter 169: Badawin


    When Brand woke, his eyes slowly moved to survey his surroundings. By his right side, a pole was raised, holding up a tent. He had nkets beneath and one above him. His left army atop, and his hand was being held by someone else. Moving his head slightly, he followed the foreign hand up the arm to find Janas sleeping form next to him.


    He opened his lips but managed only a croak. Instead, he squeezed her hand several times until she stirred.


    Brand, she exhaled. I am so relieved. She raised herself to look at him, maintaining the grasp on his hand.


    Safe? he asked hoarsely.


    Yes, we are. The desert dwellers found us. They have done their best to help us, though there was little they could do for you, other than pray you would wake on your own.


    How long?


    You should really save your strength, Jana admonished him. Here, drink something. She took one of their water skins and helped him to a sip of water.


    How long? he repeated.


    We have been here since yesterday. About a full day has passed, I would wager.


    They know us?


    I have not told them who we are, and they have asked no questions. Here, have some more. She helped him drink again.


    Keep us secret, he mumbled with a few drops spilling down his chin.


    Enough talking. Rest, unless it is to ask me for more water.


    There wasmotion outside the tent; an elderly woman stuck her head inside, observing the pair, and left again.


    They know you are awake, Jana remarked. But you must rest. I will speak with them when needed.


    Not tired, Brand imed. She gave him a doubtful look.


    The tent opening was pulled back to allow a man entry. He was dressed in simple garbs, made from the animals that could be heard outside. A dagger sat in its sheath by his belt; he was otherwise unarmed. His hair and beard were roughly cut, but he had a genuine smile on his face. Our other visitor is awake, I was told. There was concern whether this would happen or not.


    Thank you, Brand whispered.


    Your graciouspanion has already shown all courtesy, but you are most wee, he replied. I am Mahir. I am the amir of this tribe.


    We are very grateful to you for helping us, Jana added.


    Life is precious in the desert, Mahir dered. Life is also a challenge. Because of this, there is no room for falsehood, and I will speak inly. Brand and Jana exchanged looks. Some days ago, we met the warriors serving the Kabir of the great stone camp. They spoke of an escaped prisoner, having stolen the Kabirs daughter with him.


    Brand tried to speak but ended up only coughing, and Jana hurried to provide him with something to drink.


    They offered gold for any help. Mahirs smile became scornful. The same warriors who steal the wells dug by the fathers of my fathers and turn us away. What use is gold in the desert? It will not quench my childrens thirst. He regarded his two guests. Deceit gives birth to deceit. If I speak with them again, I shall give them answer as they asked.


    What answer? asked Jana.


    Mahir smiled. Seeing as you have stayed by his side all this time, I must conclude you are no captive. Therefore, I can truthfully say that I have not seen any man with a captive woman.


    Thank you, Brand managed to say.


    Mahir inclined his head. We will stay here for the day. You should rest further. Let us leave the discussion of tomorrows journey for tomorrow.


    We bow to your wisdom, amir, Jana said. Mahir inclined his head once more, adding a smile.


    ~~~~


    Eventually, Brand drifted back to sleep. Letting him recover, Jana left the tent for the first time since their arrival. A score of other tents was scattered across the area, each housing a family. Herds of camels, goats, and sheep could be seen beyond, grazing, which ounted for the smell of animal that permeated the camp. Most of the nomads were busy drawing water from a hidden well, letting the beasts drink. As the sole horse, the mare stolen from the Kabirs stables keptpany with the sheep.


    The children regarded the stranger with obvious curiosity, in between fetching water or milking their animals. Their mothers were busy with any number of chores. Meat was cooked to ensure it would not spoil while hides were tanned and wool turned to clothing. Jana smiled at an elderly woman, who had seen to Brands wound and treated him; looking up, the old woman returned the smile before resuming skirting the wool in front of her.


    Passing through the small vige of tents, Jana reached the amir. He had a goat in hisp and was cleaning pebbles from its hooves with his knife. Sensing her approach, Mahir looked up with a smile. Your friend is resting?


    He is. I owe you great thanks for saving his life. We can never repay you in full.


    Please, you embarrass me. The amir grinned. The ram requires no gratitude for protecting his herd.


    As you wish. Jana bowed her head. Your speech has refinement to leave any courtier in Alczar envious, she continued.


    Mahir made a sweeping motion, gesturing to the wastnd with his knife. There is little else to do in the desert but speak, heughed. And I am the storyteller of this tribe.


    I can tell, she assented. Do you ever have rtions with the other tribes of thisnd?


    He nodded. We do. When the sun grows weak, we gather in ces to exchange animals, keeping our herds strong. Sometimes we also exchange sons and daughters, keeping our tribes strong. He winked. At these meetings, we meet our kin that travels with other kindreds, we sing the old songs, and our storytellerspete for attention.


    It sounds wonderful.


    As the poet said, the greatest elegance lies in the simplest dance.


    He did indeed. Jana let her gaze move across the harshndscape that surrounded them.


    His work done, Mahir released the goat, which jumped away and hurried to join the herd. We live ording to the desert, the amir dered, standing up. Life is harsh, but there is beauty to be found. We would never turn new blood away, should any desire to share our hardships and our joys. He nced at Jana out of the corner of his eye.


    You are kind, Jana told him. I do not think mypanion would be suited for a life such as this.


    Among the sheep, your horse looks out of ce, Mahir remarked. Yet she seems content.


    Jana smiled to herself. I fear mypanion is too eager to continue. I doubt he can be persuaded to remain.


    Stallions are hard to tame. With a knowing smile, the amir went to his herd of goats.


    ~~~~


    Brand slept for most of the remaining day and following night. He woke up intermittently, had a few sips of water, and resumed his rest. When he finally woke to remain awake, it was the hour before sunrise. He looked around until he spotted Jana sleeping by his side, same as when he had firste to in the tent. Having confirmed her presence, Brand let his head fall back to the ground, rxing himself.


    Are you awake? Janas voice came as a whisper, softer than a breeze.


    I am. You are as well, I surmise.


    She opened her eyes to look at him. You sound better. You sound like yourself.


    I feel like it. He turned his head to reciprocate her gaze. Do you know where my sword is?


    You are definitely returning to your former self. She raised a hand to point across him. They ced all our belongings there.


    Brand turned his head to look behind him, seeing their saddle bags. Good.


    I have a feeling you would sooner leave me behind than that sword.


    No. He spoke with calm, but his voice held force. But I feel best knowing where I might reach for a weapon.


    Of course. She cleared her throat. I believe our hosts intend to journey east. At least, that was their intent before they found us.


    If that is the case, we part ways. If they can fill our reserves of water, we can travel a long while yet before we turn west and back to the coast.


    Not too long, Jana admonished him. Do not ever dare to exert yourself in this manner again. I will leave your corpse to the carrion birds if you starve yourself to death again, she threatened.


    Consider me instructed. Not too long, Brand promised.


    May I have entry? asked Mahir from outside the tent.


    Of course, Jana replied.


    The amir entered. We are breaking camp today. The grazing is poor in this area, and we must move on. We will not demand that you move on your own, of course. Thest part was directed at Brand. We can transport you that you may continue to recover. You are both wee to journey with us for as long as you need.


    Jana looked at Brand briefly. We intend to travel north, she told Mahir. Assuming that my friend is actually able to stand, she added, ncing at Brand again. He may be overestimating his own strength.


    Not at all. Brand coughed. I will be fine.


    Mahir raised his hands in a disarming gesture. There is no need. There arends and wells to the north for our herds. We will journey in this direction, at least for a few days, until we reach our next grazingnds. That will give you more time to heal, my friend.


    Thank you. Brand gave several more coughs, and Jana helped him to drink.


    Yes, thank you, she repeated.


    It is a small thing for us. I will send my son to help you gather your things and prepare your horse. We will begin the journey soon, before the sun reaches too high.


    With the direction settled, the amir left and spread the word to his people. All the tents were pulled down and ced on camel backs along with most other goods. A kind of stretcher was assembled for Brand and attached to a camel, letting the beast pull its passenger. With a canopy above, it offered him shelter from the sun and allowed him to rest. As for Jana, she chose to ride her horse, staying close to Brand in the formation. Soon after sunrise, the tribe resumed its never-ending journey across the southern wastnds, herding their animals along.


    ~~~~


    The desert dwellers journeyed for three days, moving north-west. During this time, Brand was on the mend and walked a small distance from time to time, refusing to let his leg grow weak. As the tribe reached their intended pastures, hidden wells were uncovered, and both people and beasts drank as they needed. The nomads made their camp, while Jana and Brand prepared to continue.


    At this point, Mahir showed them a final courtesy. Saddling two camels, one for each pair, he and his son apanied the two travellers on their final journey through the southern wastnds. They journeyed for another day until their surroundings changed. The twisted rocks receded, and thend became t. It remained dusty with scarce vegetation, but on asion, they passed a tree.


    Finally, on the next morning, Mahir bade them farewell. Continue in this direction. He pointed. You will find the road and, at its end, the stone camp you seek. I have not been there in many years, but I imagine they have not moved it. He gave a wry smile.


    Thank you, amir, Jana told him. You have given strangers more aid than many would offer their own family.


    In the desert, we are all family. Mahir grinned.


    These names will mean little to you, but I am Adalbrand of House Arnling. If ever the chance to repay you is presented to me, I shall remember all you have done, Brand promised.


    I have already been rewarded. At the next gathering, I will have a better story to tell than any other. Mahir gave another smile andmanded his son to take the other camel. Jana and Brand watched as the amir and his boy rode away, returning to their tribe. As their formerpanions grew small in size, the man and woman turned north-west in the direction of Maleth.

 Chapter 170: By the Grace of Disfara

    Chapter 170: By the Grace of Disfara


    Maleth had neither size nor significance to be surrounded by walls. Various roads led into the town, with most traffic entering from the south. A pittance of farnd and pastures provided food for the inhabitants along with a few other goods; beyond that, most survived on the fish brought in from the sea. It was hard to see why there would ever be caravans moving between this settlement and Alczar except for one reason. Malethy close to the treacherous straits known as the Teeth. Passing through those waters rather than circumventing them allowed swift movement of goods between Adalmearc and Alczar and avoidance of taxes. As a result, the inders patrolled the Teeth, but the lure of riches proved stronger for many a smuggler.


    Situated a few weeks north of Alczar, Maleth was the furthest end of the Kabirs reach. In normal times, a small garrison was stationed here, mostly to raise the g of the falcon; since the smuggling of weapons, iron, and timber had been convenient in the past for Alczar, the garrison had no orders to interfere.


    As Brand and Jana approached the town, they found the situation had changed. Scores of tents were raised beyond the outskirts of buildings. Hundreds of soldiers milled about, including a good number entering or leaving the town. Looking towards the sea, several war ships could be seen.


    Are they starting the invasion? asked Jana.


    I doubt it. Not enough ships present for that. Besides, winter is upon us. I think they have missed their opportunity.


    This is how you came to Alczar?


    Brand nodded. On a boat sailed by less than savoury characters.


    Can we trust them to take us across?


    We cannot use their services, Brand exined. They do not dock in this town, but on the coast. I am not able to find them again on my own, and given my lengthy dy in returning to Maleth, I doubt any of my contacts remain.


    So what do we do?


    Brand took a deep breath. We find a fisherman whose poverty is greater than his will.


    ~~~~


    They moved in a circle around Maleth to enter it from the north, where activities and soldiers were fewer in number. Jana rode on the horse while Brand held its reins, giving the impression of a married pair of travellers. Each time they passed any soldiers, he disguised his limp as best he could. They walked almost by the coast, seeking to reach the docks as soon as possible.


    The weather was cold, and the wind came from the sea with a strong bite, giving them an excuse to keep their hoods up. They passed one group of fishermens wives after another, tying and repairings while giving the travellers sharp looks. Brand continued as fast as his leg allowed.


    They reached the piers; Maleth only had a few. One had the expected assortment of fishing boats. On the other, great ships intended only for wary moored on either side. The keels were too deep and the design too slender for a galley; they were built for the open sea and to transport men rather than cargo. On the deck of the nearest war ship, the two travellers could see plenty of soldiers and sailors; thetter did work on the vessel, the former kept sharp watch.


    Let us go, Brand mumbled. Still with the mare in tow, they walked down the pier, drawing eyes; Maleth had few horses, and never on the pier.


    Who are we looking for? asked Jana.


    A smaller boat. The fewer onboard we must convince, the better. While I realise how callous it sounds, we should look for one who seems desperate.


    They walked slowly while surveying their possibilities. There. Four boats ahead to the right, the small one. An old man and a boy. They only got fish in the one basket, Jana pointed out.


    Good choice. They approached and witnessed the fisherman and his helper, aged around fifteen, push a basket of fish onto the pier. In the boat was another basket, empty. Good catch? asked Brand.


    Could be better, could be worse, replied the old man. He gave a stare at the horse and their travelworn clothes. If youre travelling on horseback, I think youvee the wrong way. He nced towards the end of the pier and the ocean beyond.


    We seek passage on a boat, Brand exined.


    Im a fisherman, not a ferryman. Besides, no ce here worth sailing to. You got a horse, you might as well ride.


    Not if we wish to pass the Teeth, Brand borated with a lowered voice.


    The fishermans expression became guarded. Thats a fools journey. If the storms dont sink you, the shallows will. And if you get past the shallows, the patrols will get you.


    We pay in gold, Jana added.


    None in this town got gold unless by dishonest means. I dont want coin with blood on them. I suggest you get going before I call some of these soldiers over. He nodded in the direction of the war ship behind Brand and Jana. Already, some of those onboard stood at the railing, observing them.


    We do not offer coin nor dishonest pay. The gold is my wifes jewellery, Brand imed. Jana took his hand, moving closer to stand by him. The horse is yours as well. We clearly have no further need of it.


    Indecision danced across the old mans face. Its too risky, he dered. This boat is all I have to leave my son. He nced at the boy. If we wreck, Ill leave him, his mother, and his siblings to starve.


    Brand withdrew thest of Janas jewellery from an inner pocket. If he sells the horse, along with this, your son can buy a new boat,s, and have more to spare.


    The old man stared at the gold glistening in the sun. We need provisions, he finally spoke. Its a long journey.


    We have, Jana told him. Both food and water.


    Abbi, spoke the boy. We will sell the fish. We dont need more.


    The fisherman looked from the gold to his son. Get ashore.


    Abbi, what will I say when Ie home?


    Let my boy have the horse and gold, the old man said. Brand did as requested. I expect you want to leave now.


    Yes. Brand nced over his shoulder. Soldiers were approaching from the other pier.


    Tell your mother Ill be back when I can. Go, boy, now. Before anyone asks questions, the father bade his son. Looking worried but acting obedient, the boy stepped onto the pier. A quick exchange followed as the saddle bags were emptied of provisions and Brands sword, while Janas remaining jewels went back in. Help us cast off.


    Wiping his nose with a despondent look, the boy did as he was told once Jana and Brand had stepped into the boat. Brand took a seat by the oars while the fisherman used a pole to guide the vessel away from the pier. Once they were free of the other boats, he let the sail unfurl. Quickly, the town of Maleth began to shrink behind them; on the docks, a boy holding the reins of a horse watched them sail towards the horizon.


    ~~~~


    Once clear of the harbour, they set a course to follow the coast north. Their boat was small and unable to brave the open waters, should the sea get rough. Conversation was sparse and revolved mostly around rationing their provisions. For two full days, they sailed north until the cliffs of Ealond began to loom in the far distance. Tall and unapproachable, they formed an imprable wall against the sea, giving the same protection as the Langstan afforded onnd. With thisndmark to steer by, the fisherman adjusted the sail, catching the wind from an angle on a slow course west.


    With the wind less amenable to them in this direction, they took turns rowing through the day. Each night, they pulled the sail down to lower the risk of being blown off their course. The boat did not afford them much room to serve as bed. The fisherman, experienced to this, slept in a sitting position in one end, leaving the bottom of the hull to his passengers. With cloaks to soften the ground and each other for warmth, Brand and Jana slept curled together.


    On the fourth day, they saw the end of the maind. Where the coast ended, the Teeth began. Countless tiny inds and reefs rose from the sea; their brethreny hidden under the water as sharp rocks that would tear wood apart with ease. Many a vessel, either for the sake of riches or desperation, had been chewed to pieces by the Teeth; driven by thetter reason, their boat now approached.


    The wind picked up, blowing stronger northwards, and they were forced to pull down the sail. One at the oars, another had to sit at the stern with a long pole, constantly scouring the path ahead.


    I cant take you much further than the Teeth, warned the fisherman; it was his turn at the pole. The food wontst beyond that. As soon as we find a ce to beach on the maind, thats it.


    Very well, Jana responded; Brand was busy at the oars. We will make our way from there.


    I dont know what youll find there, but I reckon your husband knows thend.


    He does. Well enough, at least.


    Right then. I dont want to leave you stranded, but I can only take you so far.


    We understand.


    The old man hesitated while moving the pole back and forth like a pendulum, protecting the full width of the boat. You paid me well enough not to ask, and you seem like gentle folk, so I wont specte. I dont know if youve been forced to run from your home or thats where youre going  I suspect with a pair like you, both could be true.


    Jana breathed slowly. We make our home wherever we go.


    Right, right. I just meant to say, Im sorry if its ill fate that drove you on this journey. I hope you reach a good end.


    I am sure we shall.


    It is getting dark, Brand warned from his seat.


    Well drop anchor, the fisherman assented. Lets sleep. Another day or two, and I reckon well find our beach. They did as agreed, letting the anchor steady the boat for the night and seeking to their humble beds. Around them, the wind blew harder.


    ~~~~


    The rain woke them in the night, attacking them like pebbles striking the skin. The boat rocked, and the waves pushed, stretching the anchor rope to its fullest. We have to get ashore, yelled the old man; the howling gale drowned most sounds.


    To do so, we must raise the anchor! Brand called back. That will set us adrift!


    The rope looks ready to burst, Jana interjected. We may not have much choice.


    Drifting in this weather, we are more likely to run the boat aground, Brand retorted. And any of these reefs we may climb onto, they will be flooded by tide and rain.


    Then we are no worse off than now, argued the old man. Ive sailed my whole life, this is my boat! We do as I say, he dered loudly. Pull the anchor!


    Wind and rain whipping his face, Brand did asmanded with reluctance. His arms grabbed the anchor rope and began pulling. Immediately, the boat swayed heavily, and Jana grabbed one hand onto the railing, the other onto Brands belt to steady him. The fisherman meanwhile had grabbed his pole, trying to push against the sea bottom to steer the boat; they were in shallow grounds, for now. As lightning and thunder appeared, it became clear the storm was only increasing.


    The waves began to rise taller and taller, tossing their boat about. Any attempt to steer was futile; they had no further influence over their fate. The ship cracked and groaned, pressured by strong waves and pushed against the rocks. Water sprayed over the ceiling, drenching them and filling the bottom of the boat.


    The clouds parted, letting the moon illuminate the waters, but it gave them no aid; all three were clung to the boat as it tossed about. One arm around the nk that served as a seat, Brand had his other hand against Janas wrist; she likewise had hers secured around his. The wind had pushed her hood down, and her ck hair, though heavy from rain, flowed behind her like the long leaves of a willow tree. She turned towards him, and he saw the droplets on her face shine with moonlight. Her eyes held fear, but her grip upon him was strong.


    Disfara, I beg you, Brand whispered through the shrieking storm. Me, but not her.


    The harsh sound of metal striking wood reached them. They all turned their heads in every direction, frantically searching for the source. It was the railing. Two grappling hooks had sunk their fangs into the nks. Like a phantom sailing out of legends, a ship appeared. It was slender and long, allowing many men to row an oar, while the keel was shallow, letting it navigate the waters of the Teeth. Shields lined the railing, and hardened men, warriors as much as sailors, filled the seats. The sail was lowered in the storm, but atop the single mast flew the raven banner of Thusund.


    The hooks pulled the fishing boat to the longship, and hands were extended to help Brand, Jana, and the fisherman cross to safety. Tying the smaller vessel to trail after the bigger, the inders resumed pulling their oars, ignoring the threats of the storm. One of the sailors approached Brand, pointing at his sword and gesturing for it to be relinquished. Hesitantly, Brand acquiesced.


    You speak northern tongue? yelled the man in Suthspeech.


    We do, Brand responded.


    Good. I am captain of this vessel and have been charged by King Leiknarr to protect these waters. You will stand trial and answer for your uwful presence. Sit tight, he suggested. The storm will continue a while.


    Where will you take us? asked Brand. To Dvaros?


    The captain shook his head. Too far. We go to Fortnn. Now sit! Theres nothing you can do but shield yourself from cold and rain. It would be foolish if sickness killed you after all the trouble we had, he said with a grin, leaving them.


    By his side, Jana pressed up against Brand. What happens now? she asked.


    Moving closer to her as well, Brand looked ahead. The ship had turned to sail west. I do not know. As the howling winds continued, the pair entwined their arms around each other and shared the little warmth they had. With the oars pulled perfectly in unison, the longship ploughed swiftly through the waves towards the kingdom of the thousand isles.

 Chapter 171: Arnarson

    Chapter 171: Arnarson


    The Teeth stretched from the maind in the east to the ind of Fortnn in the west. In most parts, they were little more than reefs or shallow spots ofnd, treacherous to all vessels that dared brave them. Yet some did, smuggling goods through the narrow straits to be sent further south. In response, the ships of Thusund patrolled the Teeth in swift, light longships, able to traverse the dangerous waters with unmatched speed.


    The harbour of Fortnn provided a home for the longships and their crew. After each patrol, they returned to the ind, mooring at the pier. The arrival of such a ship causedmotion among the dockworkers, for despite the stormy weatherst night, the sailors brought captives with them. Three of them, one old, two young, along with a humble fishing boat tied behind the longship.


    Most of the crew handled the mooring except for the captain and a few of his warriors, ushering the captives to disembark. The young man did first, helping the young woman to step from the ship to the pier. The sailors pushed as much as aided the old man,ughing a little at his anxious behaviour. A few curt remarks from the captain cut the amusement short, and he gestured for his prisoners to follow him. With mute looks, Brand and Jana did so; the fisherman, who had risked his life and boat to sail them through the Teeth, whimpered as they went along.


    ~~~~


    Fortnn was little more than a rock, providing no arablend other than meagre grazing for sheep and goats. Despite this, the ind was fortified with a strong keep overseeing the harbour, holding arge garrison overseen by a knight. Besides patrolling the Teeth, Fortnny furthest south-west of all harbours in Adalmearc, making it thest port before any journey to Alczar. The ind not only provided supplies to the many ships of Thusund, but ity as the first line of defence against enemies from the South.


    At the castle, the arrival of the prisoners caused a few reactions. A clerk met them in the courtyard while the nearby guards and servants stared, making the most of the disruption to the monotony of castle life in an outpost. The captain of the vessel whispered a few words to the clerk, who in turn sent a messenger boy into the keep. Another brief exchange followed, and the old fisherman was taken away.


    What will happen to us? whispered Jana.


    I cannot say, Brand mumbled.


    They only waited briefly before two Order soldiers appeared from the keep and beckoned for the two remaining captives to follow. With Jana holding onto Brands arm, they did as obeyed.


    One soldier ahead of them, one soldier behind, they were led up the stairs to enter a small room. It appeared to be a study of sorts, with a desk holding quill and inkwell, though neither seemed to be in use much.


    A knight stood by the window, overseeing the harbour. He turned as the soldiers and prisoners entered, clearing his throat. Usually, our ships find goods being smuggled, not passengers. The old man is of little interest, I was told, but you are a strange pair, seeking to enter Adalmearc unseen. If you have any exnation, I suggest you speak fast.


    I shall, Sir Hkon, Brand replied. We have met before.


    The knight furrowed his brow. I have no memory of you. Knowing my name does not prove acquaintance.


    It was a few years ago. Sir Athelstan returned from Alczar, and his ship made port at Fortnn. He and his squire dined with you that night before their journey onwards. My clothes are ragged, but if you imagine that I wear the colours of the Order, perhaps you recognise me.


    Hkon squinted his eyes. I do not believe it! Surprise painted his face. Adalbrand of House Arnling, squire to Sir Athelstan. I remember well our visit from the most famous knight in the realms, but I never imagined to find his squire before me in such a state and situation.


    Much has happened since then, Brand admitted.


    Indeed. Our ind may be remote, but I have heard of your exploits  and your exile.


    Chagrin took hold of Brands expression briefly. That is true.


    The knight raised a hand to quiet him. I have heard many rumours, but what matters now is your presence here. You were found in forbidden waters. Can you exin, or must I pass sentence?


    I went to Alczar to gather information about an imminent assault, Brand said quickly. The Kabir of the city ns to attack the realms, starting with Fortnn. Once the winter storms end, you will find yourself under siege.


    The knight narrowed his eyes. Is this trustworthy information?


    Brand nodded. I saw the ships myself, gathered for war. Both in Alczar and Maleth.


    Not only that, Jana interjected. My  the Kabir has allied himself with Labdah. They will lend ships as well. A fleetrge enough to transport thousands of troops.


    And who are you? asked Hkon brusquely.


    Jana looked at Brand, who gave a slight nod. I am Lady Jana, daughter to the Kabir.


    This tale grows taller and taller, the knight muttered.


    She helped me flee the city. We only entered the Teeth because we had no other choice, and because it is vital the realms are warned, Brand stressed.


    If this is true, I must prepare, Hkon mumbled. I need aid. The marshal must help me.


    Will you write him? asked Brand.


    Better. I will send the pair of you to him. If your tale is honest, you may convince him in person. I will need every soldier, every sack of food this keep can hold.


    Brand exhaled. Excellent, sir knight. We will be happy to rte everything to the marshal. He nced at Jana. Though I must ask. My sword was taken from me. The de is sacred to me. Next to him, an expression of slight exasperation crossed Janas face.


    Fine, the knight said. It will be returned to you.


    And the fisherman who went with us. He only trespassed into forbidden waters to help us, that we might warn the realms. It would be a sorrow to see him punished for that, Brand continued.


    Hkon raised an eyebrow. A knight who cares about a fisherman? You are strange, my lord Adalbrand, but I shall consider leniency.


    My thanks, Sir Hkon.


    Guard, find some food and bedding for our guests tonight, the knightmanded. I will find you a ship. Now excuse me. I must write to the marshal. He took a seat behind his desk while Brand and Jana left the study, apanied by the guards.


    ~~~~


    The keep had arge hall for meals, where Brand and Jana brought to. Despite their nominal status as captives, the guards left them alone, and they were given bowls of porridge to serve as a meal.


    That could scarcely have gone better, Brand remarked, digging into his food. He spoke quietly, in Suthspeech. We will be on the maind soon, and our warning will be heard by the right ears.


    On the other side of the table, Jana kept her eyes on him rather than her meal. You never mentioned that you were an exile.


    Brand looked down at his bowl. It is not a source of pride for me.


    That changes our situation drastically. I am the daughter of an enemy to the realms, and you are an exile. She exhaled slowly. We are entirely at the mercy of other people.


    Brand finally looked up. It is not desperate. I have many friends still.


    I hope so. Jana finally picked up her wooden spoon and pushed it through her porridge. What else should I know?


    I will tell you everything in full, Brand promised. We have a sea journey ahead of us with many idle hours on a ship. Plenty of time to tell you about it all.


    Very well. She took a spoonful of her meal, making a face. You said we will be on the maind. Where is this marshal we are to meet?


    Sir Asger, marshal of Thusund, Brand borated, scraping his bowl empty. He resides in Herbergja. It is fortunate for us. From that city, we can with ease travel onwards.


    None of your vaunted friends reside there?


    He shook his head. I had people waiting for me in Portesur, which is not far. But they would have expected me to return weeks ago from Alczar. They may have moved on.


    So where should we go after Herbergja?


    Brand stretched his neck. I am not sure. I will consider our options, and we can decide. We have time, after all.


    Jana filled her spoon again, staring at the sludge. I cannot believe you pressed the knight about your sword.


    Across the table, Brand spluttered withughter.


    ~~~~


    The two prisoners turned guests were given separate quarters for sleep; Brandy in the barracks with soldiers, Jana with the servant women of the castle. As morning came, they met again in the hall, breaking the fast together with the inhabitants of the keep.


    Is anything amiss? asked Brand as they sat down. As yesterday, he stuck to Suthspeech. None gave you any trouble, I hope.


    Jana stared with despondence at her bowl of porridge. No. The other women kept their distance. I would kill for a bath and some fresh clothes, but asking for either felt like tempting fate.


    Perhaps we can aplish that today, Brand considered. We may be stuck a few days on this ind before passage can be found for us. I doubt they would begrudge us a bath, if I am the one fetching and heating the water.


    I would be grateful, Jana told him, slowly working her spoon through the meal.


    An Order soldier made his way through the hall; in itself, not remarkable given the many other soldiers present, except he carried a jewelled sword in one hand. He made his way to Brand and Janas table. This is yours, I was told.


    Brand eagerly seized the scabbard, caressing the hilt. Give the knightmander my thanks.


    You should hurry, the soldier continued. Sir Hkon has arranged passage for you. The ship will be ready by the time you make your way to the harbour.


    Already? eximed Jana.


    Thats what I was told. The soldier shrugged. Go as soon as youve eaten. Its the only ship in port making ready to depart, you cant miss it. Without further words, he left them.


    Brand and Jana exchanged looks. With a despondent expression, she dug into her meal.


    ~~~~


    The pair left the keep soon after, walking to the harbour. As promised, while most vessels clearlyy moored, only one longship was prepared for departure.


    I am amazed we will be underway already, Jana confessed.


    Brand trailed her by a few steps, fumbling with his scabbard. He only had a rope around his waist, serving as a poor sword belt. The knight understands the importance of our news.


    They walked down the pier to reach their erstwhile destination. A handful of sailors stood or sat scattered around the ship. One of them, with a horn hanging by his side, looked up at them. Youre my passengers, I take it. There cant be other people around with your description. He nced at Jana with her expensive clothes turned to rags and Brand, wearing a worn tunic and a jewelled sword tied to a rope serving as his belt.


    They both nodded. Brand jumped into the ship, helping Jana to step aboard.


    Lets away, the captain mumbled. Theres room for you both to sit over there. Stay sitting or lying down. Im not interested in wasting time fishing anybody out of the water, and as cold as it is, you wont like it either.


    Brands lips became pursed, and Jana took hold of his arm. Of course, captain, she hurried to say, moving to the assigned space with Brand in tow. Around them, the sailors unmoored the ship and took their own positions. Soon, the ship was underway.


    ~~~~


    Seated at the bottom of the ship, the passengers could look just over the edge to see the sea beyond. On either side of them were rows of oarsmen, lending the vessel speed along with the unfurled sail.


    I have given your question some thought. As before, Brand spoke in Suthspeech.


    Which one?


    What our options are once we reach Herbergja and have spoken to the marshal.


    What conclusion have you reached?


    Brand stared at Fortnn, shrinking in the horizon. I see two possibilities. The first is that I track down my friends and allies. Re-join them. I would be returning to war, but you could stay with my sister in Middanhal. She has coin to see you restored tofort, and you would not have to worry.


    While I do not relish the thought of being a burden to a woman I have never met, I can hardlyin, Jana considered. What is the other possibility?


    Brand cleared his throat. One reason I went to Alczar  I shall tell you the rest of the story soon enough  was because my life was threatened. Hired des sought to kill me. I have made powerful enemies.


    She nced at him. That sounds ominous. Given your situation in Alczar, I dread to think what made you flee from Adalmearc.


    My predicament in Alczar was my own fault, he admitted. Regardless, once I return to myrades, my presence will be known. For better or worse, my name attracts attention. Once my enemies are aware that I tread on Mearcian soil once more, I will be in danger. As might you be.


    And you have a solution for this?


    There is only one way to avoid this. Rather than allow my return and name be known, once we have spoken with the marshal, we must disappear.


    She frowned. Disappear? How so?


    The forests of Vidrevi are said to be endless. I can hunt well enough if need be. It would be a life of poverty and simplicity, with nothing more than basic necessities to sustain life, Brand exined. He turned to look at hispanion. But we would be free. None would know of us. None would chase us. We would live our days in peace.


    Doubt took hold of her face. Could you truly ept such a lot in life? When I knew you as a boy, your mind was always on future glories, never a settled life.


    I have known nothing but war for years. I am weary, he admitted. I have given everything to serve others, to fight and protect. So far, my reward has been exile and threats of execution, not to mention hidden des meant to murder me. He stretched his neck, staring at the distant keep on Fortnn. The weak winter sun was reflected in the grey stones of the fortifications. He moved his hand to cover hers. Perhaps the gods have given me this chance for another life.


    What of your friends that you spoke of? Your sister? Could you leave them all behind?


    I already did, in a sense, when I went alone to Alczar. They would have expected my return weeks ago. They must assume I am dead.


    Some may choose a dwelling made from baster, Jana quoted, others find their heart amidst the oleaster. The words were those of al-Tayir, the great poet of Alczar. She cautiously turned her hand around to take hold of Brands. We have some days until we reach the maind, correct? Let us consider it until then.


    Agreed.


    ~~~~


    Eventually, the ind of Fortnn disappeared from sight. Likewise, no other ships could be seen on the sea besides their own craft. Calling the ships boy to take his ce at the helm, the captain moved down the boat until he could crouch in front of his passengers.


    Scratching his beard, the captain let his eyes nce over Brand. You are Adalbrand Arnarson, he spoke. Whether he meant it as a statement or a question was hard to tell.


    Brand returned the captains stare. Yes, he muttered at length. Nodding to himself, the sailor stood up and returned to take the helm.


    What did he call you? asked Jana.


    Arnarson. On the inds, they keep to the old tongue in some ways, Brand exined. It is how they refer to House Arnling.


    How did he know?


    Good question. Brand leaned forward, raising himself up. Boy,e here, he called out to the ships youngest crew member. Swiftly, the youngd did as told. Do you know who I am? Brand asked.


    The boy smiled. Of course! You are Adalbrand, the son of Arn.


    Who told you?


    The smile turned into a grin. We remember the stories on the thousand inds. In the hour of need, fighting the cruel men of the South, Arn came to our aid, he rted, sounding like a quote from memory. It could never be hidden for long that a son of Arn hade to the inds.


    Lad, some water! yelled one of the oarsmen, and the boy leapt away towards the water barrels.


    I wonder why the captain cares, mumbled Brand.


    Jana took hold of his arm. Our destination is east, is it not?


    Yes. Why?


    We have changed course. She looked up briefly at the sun. Earlier it had been ahead of them, with the sail providing shade. Now it was to their right. What lies north that we would sail hence?


    The only city of importance would be Dvaros, home to the kings of Thusund.


    What reason could there be that they would sail us hence?


    None good, I fear, Brand muttered.

 Chapter 172: The Carven City

    Chapter 172: The Carven City


    They sailed through the nights, as the wind allowed; the oarsmen needed sleep, after all. The stars provided guidance for the captain or his helmsman, as they steered the longship across the open sea of Drake Run.


    On the second day, small inds could be spotted on the horizon. All of them had their viges and towns, little harbours of fishing boats and moored longships, and each isle was ruled by its own jarl. The ship from Fortnn paid them no heed, having enough supplies to continue to the journey unimpeded. With skill, the captain led the vessel through the straits between the inds, barely losing speed.


    Near sunset, Eldrey came into sight. It was by far thergest ind in the kingdom of the thousand isles, and it gave home to Dvaros, the capital. Darkness fell, but this proved no hindrance. Lighthouses along the cliffs of Eldrey provided warning, letting the ship sail along the coast without danger.


    Brand woke early in the morning, before sunrise, as the ships boy woke the captain sleeping nearby. Helmsman says its time to signal the dogs, captain, thed told his master, who grunted in reply and got up.


    Moving through the rows of men sleeping where possible, the captain reced the helmsman by the stern. Sitting down, one hand on the helm, the master of the vessel took the horn hanging around his neck, but he did not blow it yet.


    Brand looked ahead and saw not one, but two lights in the distance. The ships boy, noticing him awake, moved closer. The hounds of Dvaros, he exined.


    The lighthouses that guard the entrance, Brand realised. I have heard of them.


    Theyre a sight to be sure, the boy nodded. Tall as mountains, each holding a torch that burns to guide us home. And the chain between them keeps the harbour protected, of course.


    I assume we will not sail blindly into that.


    The boyughed. Just wait, milord, youll see. Or rather, youll hear.


    As the lights grew closer, the captain finally ced his horn to his lips. Long, drawn-out notes issued from the simple instrument, easily heard across the open waters. From the darkness ahead of them, the same crude melody came in response.


    The dogs rx their guard, grinned the ships boy. The chain is down, and we can enter.


    ~~~~


    Twilight had arrived by the time they reached Dvaros. As told, two great statues rose the height of twenty men on either side of the harbour entrance. Each statue showed a warrior. He held one hand on the sword hilt by his belt, and the other held a torch high. Inside, fire blossomed, guiding sailors towards the city.


    With a gentle nudge of the elbow, Brand woke Jana as their ship glided past the statues. In the clear water below them, they could see the giant chain that during nights blocked the entrance for hostile ships. Normally, it would not be lowered before daybreak, except when given signal by one of the kings captains, such as on this morrow.


    The statues, given the ekename of the hounds for guarding the entry, stood supported by imposing walls that ran to reach the rising cliffs. Dvarosy on a hillside that rolled down to meet the sea, surrounded by mountains. This meant that as they sailed past the statues, the city rose in all directions up the slopes.


    With timber reserved for shipbuilding, near all buildings in Dvaros were made from stone. Some were built, but the oldest had been carved into the mountainsides thaty around the city. Superbly defensible with its secure location, this also proved the citys only disadvantage; all avable space between the mountains and the sea in the small pocket had quickly been used up, and further expansion was only possible upwards, slowly building with suitable stone quarried from far away.


    For this reason, Herbergja had swiftly overtaken Dvaros in poption; along with its location on the maind, it was the economic heart of Thusund and all of Adalmearc. But Dvaros remained the seat of the kings; it was rumoured to be the oldest city of Men in all the Seven Realms, and none could dispute its dignity.


    The crew moored the ship with routine skill. This early in the morning, the harboury quiet. Drunk sailors had already returned to their ships for the night, and the dockworkers had not begun the daysbour yet. Their arrival was mostly overseen by cats, ceasing their chase of rats to watch the captain disembark along with four of his warriors and his two passengers. In the first light of day, the small group began their march.


    The stone city of Dvaros possessed harsh beauty, but the grey and white left little room for green things to grow, making the settlement seem cold. Especially at this time of year, with winter solstice almost upon them. Jana shivered slightly in the breeze that always blew from the sea, and Brand took her arm to keep her close. As for the inders, they did not pay much heed to cold or their captives, talking merrily about visiting family, alehouses, or both, now they had returned to Dvaros.


    I notice we are not in Herbergja, Brand remarked pointedly at the captain, who led the way.


    Youre not blind, he snorted in response. They moved uphill on streets hewn into the rock itself.


    What will Sir Hkon think of this when he finds out your deception? Or the marshal, for that matter.


    The captainughed. I serve the king of Thusund, not any knight nor the marshal. What can they do to me? Theyll still need my kings ships to patrol the Teeth. King Leiknarr, on the other hand, would have my ship and probably my head if I let a dragonborn slip through my fingers.


    I hold no titles nornds. What possible interest could I be to anyone? Brand argued.


    I cant rightly say, which is why I leave the decision to the king, the captain replied.


    What of Sir Hkons letter to the marshal?


    If the king wants it delivered, it will be.


    The captain increased the pace, and the rest were forced to hurry along, continuing their march up the hill towards the royal castle.


    ~~~~


    The kings residence overlooked both city and harbour, visible from almost anywhere and a clear reminder of his rule. With half the castle carved into the rock, it was impregnable against attack from several sides, and tall towers guarded the rest.


    The gate had barely opened for the day as they passed through. The captain left them in the courtyard under guard, continuing inside alone. Standing still, Jana shivered once more; the pale, northern sun had little strength in winterpared to Alczar. Pulling his cloak around him, Brand extended it to shield her as best he could from the wind.


    What happens now? she asked.


    I have little idea, he admitted. Perhaps with luck, we will be sent on our way to Herbergja again.


    Dvaros or Herbergja, it makes little difference to me as such. I am a stranger either way. But any chance that we might retreat to the wide forests of Vidrevi seems lost, she considered, looking up at him.


    Maybe not, he muttered with little conviction.


    If your arrival could not be kept secret on that little ind, it will surely already have spread through this city. Every oarsman aboard that ship would have told the news. People will know you have returned to the realms, Brand. Friends and enemies alike.


    He was spared having to reply by the return of the captain, along with a man d in fine clothes. I am the steward of this castle, thetter exined. You are guests of King Leiknarr. Please follow me. He turned around to walk back into the fortress, expecting to be obeyed. Looking at the captain and his warriors, Brand took Janas arm and followed the steward.


    They did not walk far, entering a hall of some size with many doors allowing for traffic in every direction through the castle. The steward gestured for them to stop and bade them wait for a moment, disappearing into a hallway.


    The pair stood alone, unguarded, while the castle slowly woke from sleep around them. Servants could be heard in the distance, preparing the days tasks. I suppose leaving is not much of an option, Jana mused.


    Brand shook his head a little. Even if we could hide somewhere in the city, we would never find passage off the ind. They leave us unwatched because we have no choice but to stay.


    If they offer me a bath, I will make no objections, Jana admitted.


    The steward returned with a male and female servant, pping his hands. As the kings honoured guests, I am happy to extend his hospitality. He spoke this with a nk expression and slightly bored tone of voice. If you will follow these good people, they will ensure baths are prepared and  new sets of clothing. The final words came with a raised eyebrow directed at the rags they currently wore. In contrast to the stewards disinterested manner, Jana lit up into a smile and almost skipped as she followed the female servant deeper into the castle. Less enthusiastic and ncing around at every side, Brand followed the male attendant.


    ~~~~


    An hourter, they met up again. Both had been able to wash away the dust of long journeys, and Janas hair had been brushed and braided by deft hands. She wore a simple dress of same cloth and cut as any servant; likewise, Brand wore an undyed, woollen tunic as used by themon folk of the castle.


    Anything amiss? Brand asked quietly as yet another servant led them through corridors.


    On the contrary, I was well treated. Though I am starving. You?


    So far, we have been met with hospitality, Brand granted. Except that we cannot consider ourselves free to leave, of course.


    These ind people seem to have affinity for your name, Jana considered. Maybe this king of theirs shares the sentiment.


    I will keep my hope in reserve until we actually meet him, herpanion muttered.


    They moved into the deeper parts of the castle, carved into the mountain until they were in fact underground. No windows could provide light; a few scarcemps burned day and night, casting long shadows down the hallways. The servant led them into a cold room with bookshelves along the walls, ostensibly the kings library. He did not go further, but gestured for the pair to proceed to an inner chamber.


    They did so, finding themselves in what appeared to be a study or scriptorium of sorts. A few writing desks held ink and quills along with scattered pieces of parchment and books in different stages ofpletion. More curiously, a short person sat waiting for them. In front of him stood a table with two stools by it, and food had been ced on the table.


    Wee. I am Gnupa, keeper of the kings library. He rose to incline his head in their direction. Apart from his short stature, standing about as tall as Jana, his skin had a brown tone except where marked with dye to form runes. With his sleeves slightly rolled back, protecting them from the ink stains that dotted his fingers, they saw the tail end of such markings by his wrists. His right ear held a golden ring in the manner of all Dwarves. Lastly, his eyes held no dark, and he stared in their direction without seeing; he was blind.


    Jana made half a bow before she saw his face in the sparse light and stopped herself. Well met, and thank you for your wee, Master Gnupa. Brand cleared his throat, giving no other greeting.


    Please, sit. The Dwarf gestured in the general direction of the stools and took his own suggestion, returning to his chair. I thought we might break fast together. I should like to speak with you, but there is no reason we cannot tend to our need for sustenance at the same time.


    Jana followed suit, taking a seat and extending her hand towards a cup of ale. She looked up at Brand, still standing. Well, I am thirsty, she mouthed to him, demonstratively taking the cup and drinking from it. A momentter, Brand capitted and sat down as well, though he did not touch the food or drink.


    Forgive me, mydy, Gnupa spoke. By your refined behaviour and the sonorous manner in which you speak Nordspeech, I can only assume you are a woman of noble birth from Alczar. Yet while I know yourpanions name, I am in the dark as to yours.


    Oh. She nced at Brand briefly. I am Lady Jana of House al-Saqr.


    Gnupa smiled. Of course. Nothing less than a princess of that renowned city would do. His smile turned toughter. This morning, I thought I should break the fast alone. An hour ago, I prepared to dine with a dragonborn. Now I sit across a princess of Alczar. If this continues, Eirik Wyrmbane will be in my chamber by nightfall. Even after he ceased speaking, he continued to chuckle.


    While I am delighted you find favour in ourpany, Brand spoke with a t voice belying his im, I wonder why the kings guests are speaking to the kings librarian.


    Brand, drink something, Jana whispered. Remember the desert. Reluctantly, he took his cup and sipped from it.


    Gnupa, whose hands expertly found dried pieces of fruit, fish, and meat, nodded towards the food. I apologise for the meagreness of the meal. This deep in winter, we do not have the sumptuous offerings that summer might provide. The bread, at least, is freshly baked.


    At present, I will eat anything put before me, Jana admitted, breaking bread to ce a piece on her te and another on Brands.


    You are kind, given what I know of the many vours on offer in Alczar. The Dwarf smiled towards the direction of Janas voice.


    Brand tapped one finger against the table. Has the king expressed any interest in seeing us?


    Gnupa finished chewing a dried fig and carefully touched his lips with a piece of cloth. The king will see you when it suits him, no doubt. I requested your presence for a few reasons. Curiosity, in part, but also for the very reasons you arrived in Thusund through the Teeth.


    You are well-informed, Brand said, though it did not sound like apliment.


    If anything of note happens on this ind, I am soon made aware, Gnupa remarked. My eyes may be useless, but my ears are not. He grinned. Besides, I was warned that you might make your way to Thusund and be in need of aid.


    Brand frowned. Warned?


    From his sleeve, Gnupa produced a small rune-stave. He let his fingers run over the carvings. Adalbrand is tied to our cause, he muttered while Jana stared with fascination. Lend him aid if need be. Signed only by a single rune that stands for Godfred.


    Brand exhaled. You are a friend of Godfreys. You know of my journey to Alczar.


    The first is true, Gnupa confirmed. The second, I did not know as such. This, he said, holding up the rune-stave, was simply one of Godfreds precautions, alerting his allies to be on the lookout for you.


    Does this mean you can get us to Herbergja? Brand asked eagerly, while Jana looked back and forth between the two.


    Gnupa shook his head. Breakfast is one thing, but I hardly have the authority to dismiss the kings  guests. But you need not worry about Sir Hkons missive to Sir Asger. The good marshal shall be warned of the threat, what little good it may do.


    How so? With months to prepare, surely Thusund and the Order can withstand the invasion under way, Brand argued.


    Whether through misfortune or cunning ploys, we are poorly prepared, Gnupa admitted. Matters on the maind are ill, and the Order will not have many troops to spare. As for Thusund that is the kings prerogative to tell you or not. His blind eyes turned from Brand to Jana and back, staring past either.


    All the more reason I am sent to Herbergja, in that case. I am of little use here, Brand imed.


    The Dwarf gave a shrug. That is for the king to decide.


    Brand sat in silence for a moment. A man cannot sail two ships, he finally spoke. Serving your king or serving the realms, you must inevitably ce one above the other.


    Do not worry about my sailing, Gnupa remarked with his near ever-present smile. It will take more than reciting one of our sayings to make me doubt myself. However, I must ask that you keep your tidings about Alczar to yourself. News of an impending invasion could cause disruption here at court. The kings hospitality is dependent on your discretion.


    How generous, Brand muttered.


    Do not let that keep you from enjoying your food, Gnupa continued.


    The bread is good, Jana added, ncing at herpanion. And you do not know when the next meal maye.


    The wisdom of the poets. The Dwarf helped himself to another serving.


    With little enthusiasm, Brand took the bread from his te. Are we to be confined to cells once this cheerful meal is at an end?


    Hardly. You are free to move around the castle. While I maintain this room for my own needs, the library itself is at your disposal. The gardens are rather cold this time of the year, but the lesser hall has a fire going during the day, around which storytellers and those of musical skill may gather, Gnupa told them. I am sure the steward has already arranged amodations ording to your rank.


    No doubt, Brand remarked, slowly demolishing his piece of bread.


    ~~~~


    A while after his meeting with the kings guests, Gnupa left hisir. One hand on the wall, he walked with careful steps through the corridors of the castle. Any who saw him knew to move out his way, and the blind Dwarf encountered no hindrance to his path. Any he met were given a cheerful greeting, usually mentioning their name if he heard the other persons voice first.


    His destination was another study simr to his own, though it barely held books of any kind. The desk had equipment for writing, but little else. The room also contained a firece with roaring mes; an old man sat in a chair slightly leaned back, warming himself. The Dwarf cleared his throat crossing the threshold.


    Come in, Gnupa. Warm your old bones next to mine.


    Yes, my king. The blind librarian made his way through the room, avoiding the furniture with ease that spoke of prior knowledge, taking a seat next to the king.


    Is he as imed? King Leiknarrs voice sounded as tired as he looked.


    He is Adalbrand Arnarson, yes, Gnupa confirmed.


    What do you make of him?


    Impatient, first of all. Direct. Subtlety is not his skill, at least not in conversation.


    Can he be of use to me? The kings right hand trembled a little, and he grabbed hold of a curious pendant hanging around his neck. It appeared to be a giant tooth, hanging in a silver chain.


    The Dwarf considered the question for a moment. I think he will balk at the thought of being anyones tool, but if given the right incentive, he can.


    Will bait or spear work best on this fish? the king asked.


    Bait, I should think. He seems proud and unwilling to yield. But if he is too proud to ept bait Gnupa left the remainder unsaid.


    What of the woman?


    As reported, a daughter of the Kabir himself. Most strange. I did not press for details as to her presence or involvement. It did not seem prudent at this time.


    A spy? the king asked with croaked voice.


    I doubt it. She showed no interest when I used news of the situation in Thusund to entice her. Even if the Kabir would use his own daughter in this manner, it does not seem to be the case.


    Keep her under watch.


    Of course, my king. If she tries to make contact with any, it will be intercepted.


    Good.


    Gnupa hesitated briefly. She cares for him, was my impression. And while I did not personally notice him to reciprocate, I imagine he does. Her beauty was remarked upon by the captain of your ship, which no young man could be blind to. The Dwarf smiled at his own words. And our young dragonborn seemed protective of her during their journey, the captain also said.


    Leverage, the king breathed. Gnupa turned his face towards the mes, remaining silent. You may leave.


    Yes, my king. The Dwarf rose and left the king alone to his thoughts.

 Chapter 173: Cold Winds

    Chapter 173: Cold Winds


    After their meeting with the kings counsellor, Brand and Jana were shown to the quarters made ready for them. A small wing with a chamber for each, connected by a parlour. Furniture and space appeared scarce, but this was no slight towards the pair; in Dvaros, most rooms tended to be small. Although confined to the castle, their quarters were not meant to insinuate imprisonment; even visiting jarls would not receive better.


    As soon as the servant leading the way had left them, Brand checked the bolt on the door between the corridor and the parlour. Finding it strong, he locked the door and turned to Jana. They stared at each other. Are we thinking the same?


    I imagine so. She exhaled. I am exhausted.


    He nodded, yawning. Let us make ns afterwards, with clear minds. If you wake before me, wake me as well.


    Not a chance. You sleep every hour that you can. She turned to the room prepared for her, leaving him alone. Yawning once more, he went to his own chamber, removed the rope serving as his sword belt, and fell onto the bed.


    ~~~~


    A fist mmed against the door to their wing. Brand woke with a start at the sound, and his hand grabbed the hilt of his sword. As waning sunlight streamed in through a high, narrow window, he blinked a few times. The heavy knocking continued.


    He stepped into the parlour, one hand on the scabbard and the other on the hilt, ready to draw. From her room, Jana appeared with wide eyes, staring from Brand to the door.


    Who demands our attention? asked Brand.


    The king, came the brusque answer. He summons you both.


    Brand lowered the sword in his hand to look at Jana. One moment, we shall appear.


    Be swift about it, muttered the man outside.


    While Brand strapped his belt around him, Jana tied her hair together and smoothed her clothes. As she gave Brand a nod, he unbolted the door and opened it.


    Outside stood a bearded man, heavily armed. The raven of Thusund sat upon his chest, marking him as one of the kings housecarls. He nced up and down Brand, eyes lingering on the sword briefly. Follow me.


    Jana took Brands offered arm, and they followed as instructed.


    They walked through the corridors, asionally meeting servants, courtiers, or other guards. Most stared with curiosity at the pair being apanied by the kings warrior, though none spoke to them.


    Soon, they reached the kings chambers, having passed several pairs of housecarls. Their guide motioned towards Brands weapon. Your sword, milord. The guard blocked their passage forward, hand outstretched.


    A barely audible growl came from the former knight. Brand, Jana said with warning in her tone.


    Relenting, Brand untied the scabbard. I release it upon your honour, he told the housecarl.


    In turn, the guard stood aside and gestured with his open hand for Brand and Jana to enter.


    They did so, finding the same scene as Gnupa did earlier in the day. A sparse room with an old man sitting under furs by the fire.


    Enter, King Leiknarr bid them. While your blood might merit the courtesy that I stand to greet you, I shall invoke royal privilege to remain seated. Not out of pride, but for the sake of my knees. He spoke with a straight face except for his twinkling eyes.


    Of course, Your Majesty, Jana quickly said, bowing to the king. After a moments hesitation, Brand inclined his head.


    All the courtesy that can be expected, I wager, mumbled the king. Sit. He motioned towards two chairs opposite his own by the hearth. It gets on my nerves talking to people standing up.


    Once his guests sat down, the king gave them both scrutinising looks. Adalbrand of House Arnling, and Jana of House al-Saqr. Neither expected to ever grace my court, and certainly not in each otherspany.


    We did not expect it either, Brand remarked with his mouth forming a thin line.


    But we are grateful for your hospitality, Jana added.


    Good. I am too old to waste words, so I shall be direct, the king said. In fact, my advanced age is the core of the matter. Idiseas raven ising for me. If not this winter, then the next, or the one thereafter.


    Those are sad tidings. Janas face mirrored her words, whereas Brand looked unmoved.


    The king did not seem to pay either any heed and continued. The custom of Thusund of old has been that when the ruler dies, the jarls of all the inds gather to choose the next. Always of the kin born to Eirik Wyrmbane. Leiknarr touched the strange pendant hanging around his neck. We are not so different from Adalrik in that regard. Sigvard or Eirik, we all have our heroes.


    Brands eye caught the kings gesture, and his nk expression turned to a frown. Is that  it cannot be.


    Leiknarr smirked. Yet it is. Eleven hundred years old. Worn by every king of Thusund. Or ruling queen, for that matter. The first sessor to Eirik Wyrmbane was his daughter, after all. Jana looked from one to the other, a question on her face. You cannot be expected to know, of course, the king continued, noticing her expression. This is Eiriks trophy taken from his fallen foe. This is the tooth of the dragon he slew.


    Wyrmbane, Jana breathed.


    Indeed. It shall pass to my heir, along with the rulership of Thusund. That is one tradition I wish to keep, while I intend to break another.


    Which is? asked Brand.


    Rather than keep the jarls waiting until my death, I will have them choose my son at winter solstice. He shall be crowned king while I watch, and I shall my spend final years in peace.


    While Jana stared fascinated at the dragons tooth, Brand kept the kings gaze. That seems sensible. If you have any reason to doubt the jarls would choose differently than you would, once you are gone.


    The king gave a sardonic smile. You have experience with noblemen in assembly. Would you ce trust in them?


    Never.


    The jarls are gathering in Dvaros for winter solstice. I intend to have them swear allegiance to my son and have him crowned. That will resolve the issue before it can ever arise, and the session is safe, the king exined.


    Your n is clear, which leaves only one question, Brand mentioned. How does this involve us?


    Your name is Arnarson, the king pointed out. A name we treasure nearly as much as that of Eiriksson. I want you to voice your support for my son to the jarls. Let them know that House Arnarson stands with me.


    Brand frowned. That is all you ask of me?


    It is.


    Very well. I shall do so.


    Good. In return, you and yourpanion are my guests for solstice. Leiknarr nced from Brand to Jana. Once my son is crowned and the matter of session dealt with, one of my ships will take you where you wish to go.


    We thank you, Your Majesty, Jana said.


    I am tired. Leave me.


    Of course, Your Majesty.


    As you wish, my lord king, Brand mumbled. The pair rose and left the king, who resumed staring into the fire.


    ~~~~


    As they entered the corridors, Jana took Brands arm once he had tied his sword around his waist again. Would you take me for a stroll outside, perhaps on the walls? I should like some fresh air.


    He nced at her. If there is the slightest breeze, it will be freezing cold.


    I might as well be ustomed to northern winter, she said with a half-hearted smile.


    If that is what you want.


    Neither of them familiar with the castle, they walked for a while until they found doors that led outside. Apart from the asional guard keeping watch, none others were on the battlements. Behind them stood the mountain that formed the outer ring of Dvaros. Before themy the city itself, rolling down the slope.


    You are right, it is freezing. Jana shivered. She nced around. That must be why nobody else is out here.


    We could have spoken in our quarters.


    I grew up in a harem, and you learn quickly such a ce has no secrets. Chambers such as ours, meant for nobleborn, are exactly where I would have my spies keeping watch. Those chambers are for guests of importance, after all. People worth watching.


    You are right, Brand nodded. We must assume our conversation is not private indoors.


    What of our meeting with the king? I saw you clench your jaw at his demand. Is it so egregious to you that you must support his son?


    His demand was not the cause of my consternation, but rather that I suspect he is lying to us. Brand ced his hands on the wall despite the cold stonework. It was afternoon, but given wintertime, sunset came soon. In the approaching twilight, the carven city reflected the golden-red colours of the waning sun.


    How so?


    As much as it galls me to admit, I am an exile of dubious honour. My support is as likely to harm as help anyone, Brand admitted. I have only one skill that might aid this king. War.


    You think he desires you to fight for him? Against my father, perhaps?


    Possibly, but I suspect the threat lies closer to home. Brand looked at her. Why the urgency to have his son crowned before he dies? That can only be if King Leiknarr doubts his son has the strength to secure the session after he is dead. And that can only be in doubt if there is another pretender. Someone to question the princes im.


    Is there?


    From what I know, King Leiknarr has not only a son, but also a daughter. Same age. Twins.


    A daughter? To seed him?


    Brand shrugged. It is not far-fetched. As you heard, the first sessor to Eirik Wyrmbane was his daughter. I think the king fears strife between his children. That one might not ept the other to take the throne.


    In which case, there will be war. Jana shivered, perhaps not only from the cold. And we are caught in the middle.


    It is only guesswork, but I suspect that is the kings intentions. He wants me for his war, should ite to that.


    And what are your thoughts?


    Brand hesitated. With luck, we might attempt an escape. If we can find a boat to take us away the king has no power outside Thusund. Once on the maind, we would be safe.


    She scrutinised his face. But that is not what you want. I can hear it in your voice. You want to stay.


    He took a deep breath. If Thusund bes embroiled in civil war, their ships cannot fight Alczar, who will have free reign of the sea. They can capture Herbergja and Portesur, raid the coast, and even strike deep into Ealond. The realms will be torn apart between Alczar attacking from the west and the ounders from the east.


    Who?


    Other enemies. You chose an ill year to visit the realms, I fear.


    I would havee sooner, but you did not require rescue then, she retorted with a wry smile. So we stay. If ites to it, you will fight for this king.


    His interest is in me. Brand cleared his throat. I am sure in return for my support, he would grant me the favour of sending you away. You could go to Middanhal, where you would be safe.


    Jana shook her head. No. I have thrown my lot in with you, Adalbrand Arnarson, and for better or worse, I stay by your side.


    He smiled, though with little joy. Very well.


    In any case, this remains spection. We need to gather knowledge, Jana considered. I will seek out the noblewomen of the castle. They must be curious to hear of foreignnds. Perhaps in return they can tell me more of our new home.


    Good idea. I shall seek out new friends myself.


    Jana shivered yet again. With that settled, let us inside. I will not grow ustomed to this cold in a single day.


    ~~~~


    In the harbour, nearly every shipy moored for winter. Trade would dwindle to a near halt within the next weeks and only resume once spring returned. Except for the many jarlsing for winter solstice, no ships were expected to arrive nor depart. Even so, one crew returned to unmoor their vessel.


    The same ship who had carried Brand and Jana to Dvaros set oars into the water. Making the most of the fading day, they left the harbour before the chain to the entrance was raised for the night. It was ate hour to begin their journey, but with a skilled captain at the helm, the darkness would not hinder their departure from Eldrey. With their unnned visit to Dvaros done, the captain and his crew set sail towards Herbergja as originally intended. With them, they brought the news of the dragonborn Adalbrand and his return to the Seven Realms.

 Chapter 174: Fading Twilight

    Chapter 174: Fading Twilight


    The bell rang, summoning the inhabitants of the castle to the evening meal. The courtiers gathered in the hall, waiting for the king to arrive; Jana and Brand were among their number, attracting stares. A few housecarls stood nearby; while they also kept their eye on Brand, their expressions denoted caution rather than curiosity. Although Brand had been given the courtesy of remaining armed at court, the housecarls remained vignt.


    The king arrived, nked by his son and daughter. Aged around thirty, the twins did not look much alike. The princess had her fathers strong nose and brown hair, and her blue eyes held the same intensity as the kings. Standing a little taller, the prince had straw-coloured hair, soft features made softer by a rich diet, and the blue of his eyes seemed dull.


    The king sat first by the middle of the long table, rather than at the end. On either side of him, his children took seat. Only then did the courtiers follow suit, all taking their positions. Brand and Jana, as new arrivals, looked around for empty ces until two openings revealed themselves opposite the king and his children. A housecarl made a brusque gesture to indicate this was on purpose; the empty seats were reserved for the kings new guests.


    Sitting down, all eyes briefly flickered past the pair, even those from the other tables in the hall. Jana adjusted the sleeves of her undyed, woollen dress and took her cup with a measured gesture. Had she not been a native of Alczar, her appearance would have been the same as the servant hurrying to fill mead into her cup. The other women at the table wore colourful dresses of linen or cotton, and all of them had jewellery on their fingers or around their necks. The princess was an exception to this, wearing a tunic like a man would, with a short sword in her belt.


    In hismon clothing, Brand by her side gave the same impression; only his weapon set him apart from the servants that began to serve the meal. Whereas Jana looked at ease, regardless of her clothing, Brands jaw was tense, and he returned the stares from the royal family across the table.


    I bid you wee, Lord Adalbrand, Lady Jana, the king said, raising his goblet. Jana and the courtiers mirrored his action; after a little hesitation, so did Brand. Once the king had taken a sip, he gestured at his children. My son, Lord Sven, and my daughter, Lady Svana. As you can tell, I chose their names to be easy for me to remember. The king chuckled to himself.


    You make that jest every time, Father, the prince remarked.


    And Iugh every time, Leiknarr retorted. Does the court not find their king amusing?


    Certainly, Father. I see now why you spared the expenses of a jester, the princess interjected.


    What does our guests think? asked the king. New to our court and impartial. Do we need a jester, Lord Adalbrand? Lady Jana?


    Thest court jester I knew killed his master, Brand said tly, prompting a nervous chuckle from a few courtiers, quickly falling silent again.


    I will consider that an argument in my favour, Leiknarr dered. He looked at Jana.


    She cleared her throat. My father had a court jester for a while. I believe he found thepany pleasant. Even freeing at times. To have one servant who will speak the truth to you when others dare not.


    I have my children for that, the kingughed.


    You said your father had the jester for a while, inserted the prince. What happened?


    He made a great spectacle of pretending to choke on a chicken bone, and peopleughed at his antics, Jana said. They continued tough as he fell to the floor. By the time theughter finally died, it became apparent that so had he. Hisst jest turned out to be that he was not pretending at all, but genuinely asking for help the whole time.


    Scattered amusement could be heard, including from the king.


    Do you remember? Jana asked Brand. It was years ago, but I believe you were present as well.


    The prince frowned, looking at the young dragonborn. You were in Alczar? Years ago?


    I spent my youth in that city, Brand admitted. His expression remained cold.


    Yet we hear yourst years have been spent in the realms, added the princess. Her look at Brand was calcting, like a merchant eyeing a horse for sale. He gave no response.


    Such modesty, said the king with half a smile. It is clear this man is no inder, or he would be bragging to the roof of his victories. Taking Middanhal and Tothmor by assault, defeating Isenhart Jarl, and no doubt many more exploits that have yet to reach the thousand isles.


    I was but the first lieutenant, Brand pointed out. Half of the victories where I participated had Sir Richard of Alwood as themander. The other half was under Sir William of Tothmor.


    Hah! came the outburst from Leiknarr. Listen to this! You would think he is embarrassed!


    Strange, Svana considered with her intense eyes on Brand. Are the inner kingdoms so different from the isles? In Thusund, we would make songs of any man or woman with your deeds under his belt.


    Songs make it sound as if battles are won by a single warriors hand, Brand argued, keeping thedys gaze. Yet what worth is anymander without his army?


    Eirik Wyrmbane slew his dragon alone, the princess countered.


    That was another time, her brother interjected. Such days are long gone.


    Pity that the time of heroes is gone, remarked Svana.


    Yet fortunate that so is the time of dragons, Sven retorted.


    Every meal with my children is a blessing, Leiknarr said. A shame your father is unlikely toe to Thusund, he continued, looking at Jana. Else I might have asked him how he raised his child to have such good manners that mine ownck.


    Your Majesty has raised children with minds of their own, Jana mentioned cautiously. In that respect, you have outdone my father already.


    Certainly they teach ttery better in Alczar, said Svana. Her demeanour did not give the impression that her words were apliment.


    The merchants are influential in Alczar, are they not? asked Sven. Unlike his sister, he seemed genuine in his conversation. Do they sway the Kabirs rule in one direction or another?


    Enough, dered Leiknarr with a voice that would not be gainsaid. Our guests are not leaving soon. Let us save some questions for another day.


    The discussion turned elsewhere, with Brand and Jana remaining silent for the rest of the meal.


    ~~~~


    When the court dispersed after the meal, Jana found her way into the lesser hall of the castle. It served as a gathering ce for those living at court to converse and practise certain crafts, in particr in wintertime when cold weather confined people to remain indoors. Bereft offortable visits to gardens and the city, the courtiers told stories, shared songs, and entertained each other by the warm fires.


    Eyes turned as Jana entered. New arrivals at court always caused a stir, especially during the dull months of winter. Likewise, a native of Alczar was unusual, and the intrigue only rose when that native turned out to be a princess.


    Do not let me intrude, she spoke softly. The courtiers had arranged themselves in little groups. Some women were sewing, a few had instruments they plucked, and the remainder seemed engaged in discussions, singing, or poetry, sometimes all three; at least they had been until Janas arrival. I was only curious to hear the renowned skalds of Thusund.


    In that case, you should take a seat, a woman suggested, and with a cordial smile, Jana did so.


    But before any may ask others to show their skill, it is custom that you reveal your own first, another imed. He had a scar on his cheek and a sly smile to go along with it.


    Do not be silly, said the woman. There is no such custom.


    Our newestpanion did not know that, came the swift retort.


    I would never presume to ask of others what I am unwilling to do, Jana interjected. Yet all I know of versees from my home, written in the words you call Suthspeech.


    So be it, said the scarred man. Speak, and let us be enthralled by words. And if your words are beyond us, your voice alone must do the work.


    Jana inclined her head. Very well. I must draw on al-Tayir, the best name in such matters from Alczar. It is said on the evening of his exile, he sat on the harbour and watched the sunset colour the open seas. She cleared her throat and spoke once more in her native tongue.


    Wooden horse that ploughs the sea to distant shore


    Chasing sunset cross blue field fraught with lost lore


    All I know in fading twilight as I leave


    I was never nearer sun than on this eve.


    Apart from her twopanions sitting nearby, several others had paid her attention. Some seemed motivated by idle curiosity or genuine appreciation, though one man strumming a lyre wore an angry expression. I am not surprised to find sand-lickers in Herbergja, but I would have thought Id be spared hearing their tongue in Dvaros!


    Spare us, Ketil, said the woman by Janas side. Youre just upset that you wont be performing at solstice. A few snickered at this.


    All are wee in this hall, added the scarred man. Perhaps some fresh inspiration would do you well.


    Fawn if you must, sneered Ketil. Any true inder would not care for the verse made by some desert camel.


    Thedy is the kings guest and deserves the same respect you would show the king, continued the man with the scar, and his tone of voice held warning. With another sneer, though no further words, Ketil left.


    My apologies for his poor behaviour, said the woman who hade to Janas defence.


    None needed. This is after all a ce to forge verse, and I am sure al-Tayir has never been called a desert camel before, Jana replied coyly, and the scatteredughter helped to relieve the tension in the room. Now, I believe I have done my part to fulfil your ancient custom, and I should like to hear something in return.


    The others in the hall obliged, spending the next hour with the princess of Alczar.


    ~~~~


    Meanwhile, after visiting the shrine to Disfara in the castle, Brand braved the evening cold to enter one of the courtyards in the castle. The sounds of metal shing reached him, along with cheers and various outbursts. Illuminated only by torchlight, the kings housecarls practised their weaponry. Shadows danced inside the ring whenever one of them moved to stand in front of a torch, melting together with the raven upon their surcoats.


    Brands arrival did not disturb the fighting. One man stood with sword against another armed with axe. Both had shields, round in the tradition of Thusund. The sparring continued a while longer. Neither fought with aggression to finish the fight; instead, both attempted feints and different manoeuvres that needed to be trained to perfection before attempted in actualbat.


    Youre the dragonborn, someone remarked. Come to see real men fight?


    I have seen my share of fighting, Brand replied. But I have not done much of ittely, and a leg wound has given me some trouble. It seemed prudent to test my abilities in sparring, if any man here would face me in a friendly bout.


    None have evere to the thousand inds asking for a fight and been disappointed. Severalughed, whereas others had grim expressions.


    Let the man have a shield and a weapon, dered the warrior wielding an axe in one hand. Lets see what this Arnarson can do.


    Brand received a blunt sword and a shield and took position. Both warriors eyed their opponent, turning their left, shielded side towards the other man. Brand took a quick step forward, making a tentative thrust quickly denied. The housecarl swept his axe back and forth, forcing Brand backwards. In this manner, they examined each others reflexes and the methods of fighting that years of training would have instilled in them.


    The axe came high, and Brand raised his shield on instinct, readying his own sword. Yet the housecarls weapon came to catch the edge of Brands shield inside the nook of the axe head to hook and pull it down. The housecarl followed up by pushing his own shield where Brand was vulnerable. In quick reaction, Brand mmed the pommel of his sword down against the housecarls shield, denying the attack. Disentangling his weapon, the inder swiftly retreated one step and stood ready once more.


    ~~~~


    Later, with the sparring done, Brand returned to his quarters. He found Jana already present in the parlour. She sat on one of the few chairs with a book in her hands, but looked up as he entered. Master Gnupa allowed me to retrieve one of the books in his library.


    There is scarce light for reading in here, Brand remarked. A single candle did its best tobat the darkness inside the chamber.


    Better than waiting for sunrise, Jana replied with half a smile. How did you fare?


    I held my own. I feared worse, given I have scarcely seen battle in a long time. Brand shrugged and took a seat for himself. They are dour men, these housecarls, but their disposition was not unfriendly. How did your evening pass?


    I shall return another night, I think, it was pleasant enough. They showed me cordiality. For now. The final sentence came scarcely audible.


    Brand frowned, turning to look at her. Why should that change? he asked abruptly.


    Eyeing the walls that might hold hidden ears, Jana spoke quietly. Once springes and winter no longer threatens any ship on the open seas. She whispered the next words. Every fallen brother, every father who dies I can only imagine they willy the me at my feet.


    Brand swallowed. It will note to that, surely.


    It will. Jana rose. The servants left new clothes for us. Yours are in your chamber. A gift from the king, I believe. After all, we are his guests. She turned towards her chamber. Good night.


    Good night, Brand replied. After a little while, he entered his own chamber and found as Jana had said. Clothes of linen and leather, dyed in bright colours, along with a proper belt and good boots. Garments befitting courtiers rather than servants. Moving it all onto the floor, Brand went to bed.


    ~~~~


    Gnupa, the kings librarian, counsellor, and spymaster, made his way to the royal chambers. Despite thete hour, Leiknarr remained awake. He sat as usual in front of the fire, staring into the mes as if he might divine the future from their dance.


    As Gnupa crossed the threshold, he stood in silence. The king took no notice of him until finally, the Dwarf coughed. Come in, Gnupa. What do you have to tell me?


    The blind servant made his way to an empty chair. Three jarls have sent word they will not attend the solstice.


    Any of significance?


    No, my king. All from the north-western isles. They will do as Jarl Roar does.


    If he can be swayed, and Harald already supports my son, do you think Herdis will abandon her opposition? asked Leiknarr, looking at his counsellor.


    Gnupa spoke cautiously. Possibly. Or perhaps we should seek to sway Jarlinna Herdis first. Unlike Jarl Roar, she has interest in the outside world. Should both the jarlinna and Jarl Harald agree to crown your son, I am sure that Jarl Roar would as well.


    The king did not respond for a while. What of Fortnn?


    We are sending what supplies we can. Given winter, there is little to spare, Gnupa admitted. Most will have toe from Herbergja, including reinforcements. Your letter to the marshal reflects this.


    The marshal, Leiknarr muttered. What of our guests?


    So far, they have behaved. They have not revealed the circumstances of their arrival, nor the news they carried with them from Alczar. Gnupa hesitated. Yet eventually, people will take note that we are fortifying Fortnn. We cannot keep the invasion a secret much longer.


    Solstice is two weeks away, mumbled the king. Keep it a secret until then. I do not want the jarls thinking I am weak or under threat.


    Of course, my king.


    You may leave me.


    Yes, my king.

 Chapter 175: Prayers Unanswered

    Chapter 175: Prayers Unanswered


    Ten days after arrival, Brand stood in the courtyard shortly after sunrise. Hitherto, he and Jana had spent their time much like on the first day, mingling at court. Now, he met a housecarl to apany him outside; for the first time, Brand would be leaving the castle, though without Jana.


    Haki, Brand said with a nod in greeting.


    Arnarson, the housecarl replied. I was told to apany you. Where are we going?


    Brand raised his eyebrows. They did not tell you?


    Haki shrugged.


    And if I wanted to go to the harbour and set foot on a ship? Brand asked.


    I would take you there, Haki imed. Of course, if you think any ship would take you away, youve not learned much from your days in Dvaros.


    Brands mouth curled up, and he pulled his cloak around him. Another gift from the king. We are going to the temple.


    Which one? Theres plenty.


    For Rihimil.


    Fine. Haki turned towards the gate. Lets go.


    Brand followed the housecarl, and together, they left the castle. Once outside the protective walls, the wind met them on the street, and both pulled their cloaks closer.


    Is it far?


    Far enough youll freeze, not so far youll be tired, Haki told him. He walked without shield, but he carried his axe in the right hand, ready to fight at moments notice. Tell me,ndstrider, why do all you carls of the Star fight with swords? Why never the axe?


    Brand smiled briefly. When we get back, I will be happy to show you.


    I recall you tried to do that the other day with little luck.


    I did not want to embarrass you in front of the other housecarls.


    Haki snorted in response, and they continued through the city. Youre the strangest jarl Ive met.


    I am not a jarl.


    Thats probably why.


    Now it was Brands turn to exhale through his nose in a small disy of amusement.


    Why Rihimil? asked Haki. You hope he will make you good enough to fight with swords? Not enough prayers in the world for that.


    He is my protector, Brand exined. I owe him my gratitude. I may own nothing worth giving the temple, but I can at least offer my prayers.


    Soon, they reached the sanctuary dedicated to the lord of the Divines. Ill wait outside, Haki said while Brand entered.


    The ckrobes greeted Brand quietly, leaving him alone. The temple was modest, but a handful of priests and acolytes could be expected to live here. The altary with meagre offerings. Most inders would pay tribute to Disfara, goddess of the sea and protector of Thusund; only drakonians and those with affinity for Rihimil, such as soldiers of the Order, came here.


    Brand knelt by the altar and leaned forward until his brow touched the feet of the statue upon it. Thank you, great Rihimil, that you have safeguarded me through peril. I ask your blessing and protection, as you have granted it so far. I can offer nothing but my praise, and so it shall be yours. From a willing heart, my prayers and praise shall always reach out towards you.


    Brand rose and left the small temple. On the steps outside, Haki awaited him. You should pray to Disfara, the housecarl cautioned the dragonborn as they began walking. If nothing else to thank her for your safe journey to Dvaros.


    I did so, soon after we arrived, Brand replied. Given our rough journey to Thusund, I would not have dreamt of slighting the goddess.


    Milord! Captain! a voice called out.


    Brand froze in his tracks. He turned around, and his face lit up. I cannot believe it! From down the street, Geberic and ukos came swiftly. As they reached their lord, they both bowed their heads. For his part, Brand grabbed each of them by the shoulder while Haki looked on bemused. How? he asked with incredulity. I have scarcely been back a fortnight, yet already, you have found me.


    We waited in Portesur as agreed, Geberic exined. Yet when months passed and you didnt return, we decided to split up. ric and Gwen remained there while this barrel ofughs went with me to Herbergja. He nodded at ukos, who merely growled in response. We figured, you might find your way back to that city instead of Portesur.


    But how did you find me in Dvaros? asked Brand.


    Me and ukos, we spent our time at the port, hoping for tidings. A week ago or so, a shipes from Dvaros telling all how someone named Arnarson hase. Not that this fellow knew who that was, Geberic added with a sly smile at ukos, whose growling intensified. Once I exined the nature of the name, we got on the next ship to Dvaros.


    It must be the gods that we should find each other again, Brand considered with a broad smile.


    Pardon me saying it, but that was also me, Geberic continued. We tried to get into the castle, but we werent exactly wee. He nced demonstratively at Haki. So I told ukos that our good captain is a pious man, and hes sure to visit the temple sooner orter. Weve been waiting here for a few days now. Of course, ukos wanted to storm the castle on his own, but thankfully, we followed my instinct, not his.


    It is good you came, captain, for his sake. Another day alone in hispany and I would have strangled him. Nothing about ukos brusque expression suggested this was a jest.


    Be at ease, my good men, Brand told them. You have done well to find me despite the difficulties. I shall certainly be at ease knowing you are by my side.


    Haki cleared his throat, and the other men looked at the housecarl. Im touched by this reunion, but my task is to apany you here and back to the castle. Im not supposed to pick up strays and bring them home.


    The choice may not be yours, ukos spoke. His voice was quiet but menacing.


    Be calm, Brandmanded. There is some truth in it. I will seek leave to have you both join me at court, but Haki is right. Until that happens, we cannot expect that you will be allowed to enter the castle. You will have to wait.


    ukos groaned at hearing this while Geberic red at the housecarl. After all the months weve despaired, thinking you were dead! eximed the greybeard. Now this inder tells us off, and were to skulk away, leaving you alone?


    Why dont you try fighting one of the kings housecarls in the kings own city, Haki suggested with a tight grip on his axe.


    Peace, Brand dered. You are both among the finest soldiers I know. You can wait if you must. If you make yourselves known to the ckrobes, I will send word for you.


    The ckrobes? Geberic frowned.


    Trust me, there are none to move messages faster than them, the young dragonborn imed. He nced at Haki. They will know if need be. For now, be patient a little longer.


    As youmand, milord. Despite the words, Geberic sounded reluctant.


    See you soon, captain. ukos bowed his head, and the four men split up. One pair walked up the mountainside towards the castle, the other walked down, deeper into Dvaros.


    ~~~~


    Once back at the pce, Brand bid Haki farewell and went straight to the royal library. Inside, he found Jana reading. She looked up as he entered, but he continued past her. I must speak with the Dwarf. Is he inside?


    He is, she confirmed. What is amiss?


    I will tell you both if you wish.


    Jana rose to follow Brand, who knocked on the door to the inner room. Who is there? asked an old voice from inside.


    Adalbrand and Lady Jana.


    Please, enter. They did so, finding the blind librarian. He was reading in his manner, letting his fingers run over carvings in wood to deduce their shape and meaning. He put the rune-stave away. What brings such illustrious guests to my chamber?


    I must ask a favour to be granted, Brand admitted.


    Again? How many temples are you to visit?


    A favour of a different nature. In town, I had the good fortune to meet two of my oldpanions. They have served me with honour and loyalty, and they would only add dignity to any court.


    I see your direction, Gnupa mumbled.


    I would ask that they be given leave to enter the castle as well.


    That is not my decision to make, the Dwarf imed.


    But you could get the kings consent, Brand argued.


    I could ask, but I already know his answer. You may be his guest, but it does not extend to soldiers formerly in your employ.


    They are not soldiers, Brand said with gritted teeth. They are my loyalpanions, bound by honour, not by silver.


    Be that as it may, you are not a lord on these isles, Gnupa retorted. You have no im to a personal guard, and the kings men already extend their protection to you.


    Does it extend to Lady Jana as well? Brand continued. What happens when spring arrives? He lowered his voice. When her fathers armiesnd, how long until she bes a target?


    Brand, Jana interjected, but it did not stop him.


    It only takes one housecarl to take his anger out on her, or one jarl to consider improving his fortunes by selling her out.


    Gnupa regarded the dragonborn with his blind eyes. None would dare when she is under the kings protection. You may not hold it in much regard, but do not expect the king to agree with you.


    In that case, if thedys safety cannot be guaranteed to my satisfaction, the king should not expect me to agree to any of his ns.


    Brand, it is enough. Let us leave.


    If you are displeased with the freedom and favours so far shown you, they can certainly be removed, Gnupa told him with a cool voice.


    Brand. Jana ced her hand on his arm and began pulling him away. Reluctantly, he followed her out of the room.


    ~~~~


    Brand walked with angry steps onto the walls of the castle; Jana hurried behind to keep up. The sentinels nced at them with curiosity, but let them pass until the pair reached a solitary spot where none would hear them.


    Be careful, Brand, Jana cautioned him. We are not in a position to make demands nor act in hostile manner against our few friends.


    We are but pawns to that Dwarf and his master, Brand all but spat. I know the true reason for this rejection. He looked at Jana. They want to have free hands to turn you over to your father, once the war begins. They will make a sacrifice of you, once I am no longer useful.


    You cannot know that for sure, she imed, though with little conviction. Besides, how does anger help us in our situation?


    Any words on Brands tongue were stifled, and he gave no reply.


    If you intend to stay in Thusund and fight, should war break out, it will be on their terms, Jana argued. We cannot make demands, she reiterated. We can only seek to make ourselves useful, improving our position thereby.


    He stared at her. Are you not afraid? We are so vulnerable. At a moments notice, we might be thrown in chains and sold to our enemies.


    She returned his look. Brand, my entire life has been lived under those circumstances. I was sent to Labdah, traded like a horse. Yet on a whim, as the city burned around me, another took my ce, and I was sent back. I have made only one decision in my life, which was to help you. It has led me here. A different ce, but the same circumstances as always. She took a deep breath. You know war far better than I ever will, but you must learn to understand this type of battle. The court of any powerful ruler is just like a battlefield, except you do not fight side by side with others. Everyone will fight anyone if need be. Alliances are temporary, and friendships are frail. We must make ourselves into desirable allies, or we will indeed be nothing but pawns. She exhaled, and her breath became fog in the cold air.


    Fine, Brand said atst. I acknowledge the wisdom in your words. But my only skill lies in battle. Until war breaks out, whether it be within Thusund or against Alczar, I have nothing to offer.


    I would not underestimate that your name might open doors otherwise closed, Jana spected. Regardless, the king has already shown interest in you precisely for your prowess in battle. Even if war should lie dormant for months, our good host is already making his preparations, as any wise ruler would. We must make our own.


    What do you suggest?


    We have only spoken to edges of the court so far. Courtiers and housecarls, Jana pointed out. We must be more aggressive. We should speak with the prince and princess. If there is to be war in Thusund, it will revolve around those two.


    Brand took a slow breath. Very well. Let us do so.


    ~~~~


    Most ships in the harbour of Dvaros were meant for trade. They had ample room for goods below deck and needed only a few hands to sail. Other ships were the long, slender vessels allowing many men to swiftly row across the sea, patrolling the waters. The ship that sailed into harbour near sunset was neither of those.


    It had the shape of a longship, but it was farrger. It could hold up towards a hundred warriors with ease, though it only had about a quarter of that number onboard. Despite the fact that a much smaller vessel would have sufficed, this particr ship was expected. Atop flied the banner of Jarlinna Herdis, ruler of thergest ind besides Eldrey, the kings own fief. She was the first of the many jarls of Thusund to arrive for winter solstice in Dvaros, but the people knew that the others were soon to follow.

 Chapter 176: Twain

    Chapter 176: Twain


    On the morning of winter solstice, the sounds of weapons shing guided Brand to the courtyard where the housecarls trained. He had been there several times, pitting himself against the best of Leiknarrs warriors. Usually in the evening hours, but this time, he made his appearance in the morning.


    While the kings warriors let any join them in the evening, the early hours were another matter. Every day soon after sunrise, thedy Svana tookmand of the ring, practising her weaponry against her fathers housecarls. As Brand entered the small yard, his line of sight was quickly blocked by two of the household warriors.


    You overstep, one of them told Brand with a brusque voice. If the kings daughter wanted you present, you would have been summoned. Begone.


    I thought thedy would be interested in testing her prowess against a knight, Brand replied loudly. Better opposition than her fathers carls, I wager.


    If so, she will let you know. The housecarl raised a hand, ready to push Brand back.


    Let him through, Svana spoke. On Thusund, we ept and even encourage boastful words  provided you can prove them.


    Give me a sword, and I shall do so, Brand dered.


    His request was fulfilled with a shield in addition. Svana motioned for him to enter the ring. Besides her own shield, she wielded a short spear. As soon as Brand stepped forward, the princess struck. She attacked low where Brands shield could not protect in time. Swinging his sword, Brand barely parried the assault in time, pushing Svanas spear aside.


    Thedy smiled, baring her teeth like a wolf. Several jabs with the spear followed, forcing Brand to constantly defend himself. The few times he could strike back with his sword, the distance made it easy for her to shield herself. The housecarlsughed and spoke among themselves, discussing the fight and Brands predicament.


    Every time Brand tried to strike, he was met by the spears longer reach, forcing him to break off his attack to defend himself. Pushed back, Brand seemed increasingly in trouble; he could not make an offensive move, and sooner orter, Svanas constant attacks were bound to find an opening.


    As thedy struck her spear forward yet again, Brand changed tactics. He evaded and simply threw his shield into Svanas face. As she raised her own shield to protect herself from his, Brand used his now empty hand to grab the haft of her spear. Pulling his opponent closer, Brand ced the tip of his sword against her throat, leaned against the edge of her shield.


    The housecarls murmured amongst themselves. You lost your shield, one of them pointed out. Youll be vulnerable against your next enemy.


    Yes, Brand admitted, but I won against this one. He lowered his sword, and the princess gave a sly smile.


    Leave us, shemanded, and the housecarls did so. You do not disappoint, dragonborn. I had my doubts, observing you these past days, wondering if you would dare to make any moves.


    If you wanted to see me take action, you could simply have summoned me, Brand said.


    If I considered you a simple soldier, I would have. But you are meant to be amander. What good is a leader who cannot take initiative? She ced her weapons on the rack, giving Brand a look.


    There is truth in that, he admitted.


    Tell me, what do you think of my brother?


    Brand hesitated. I have not spoken enough to form much of an opinion.


    He is clearly not fit to rule, Svana continued, giving her own answer. My father must be the only man in Thusund who cannot see this.


    Yet as the king, his opinion matters the most.


    While he lives. Once he is passed, the jarls will choose his sessor. They are not blinded by familial bonds, Svana imed, pacing around the yard. They will not follow someone as weak-willed as Sven.


    Unless having a weak king would suit their needs, Brand argued.


    The princess stopped to stare at Brand. You may have a point, she conceded. Certainly I can see no other reason why my father favours Sven. My brother would be an average king, aplishing little nor causing waves. Thusund would continue as it has under my fathers rule.


    You have greater ambitions, I take it.


    I am not blind. I know supplies have been sent to Fortnn. In early winter? The only reason would be to prepare the ind for a siege. You havee to us from Alczar, dragonborn. What did you see in that fabled city of the South?


    Brand cleared his throat. I saw the dungeons and made a hasty retreat.


    Svana wore a sardonic smile. Yes, your strange journey through the Teeth, and with even strangerpany. A princess of Alczar and a dragonborn, wearing only rags.


    That is her story to tell, not mine.


    The princess selected an axe from the rack and swung it around, cleaving the air. And where will you go next, son of Arn? I heard that the eastern realms do not think highly of you.


    Brands jaw became clenched. Opinions are divided.


    If any man in Thusund had done what you have done, Svana dered, he would be shown the highest honour. Not exile.


    s, I am not from Thusund.


    But you are here now, she swiftly pointed out. I would never disdain a man of your skills. On the contrary, you would be given chance to show your qualities, and ample reward after.


    I appreciate such words, Brand said slowly, but at present, there is peace in Thusund, and your father reigns. Much would have to change before you could follow through on such a promise to me.


    Winter solstice is nearly upon us, Svana mentioned. She looked up at the bleak sky. Even approaching noon, sunlight and warmth were scarce. The Raven Days follow soon. Jarls gather, and the old grow frail. We may go to sleep in the eve and find the worldpletely changed by morrow.


    It took a moment before Brand spoke. I shall remember your words. He bowed his head. With your leave, he added, indicating his desire to withdraw. She nodded in acknowledgement, and the son of Arn left the daughter of Eirik.


    ~~~~


    Past noon, Jana left the library with a book in her hands. She had done so several times before in the past days, but on those asions, she had afterwards retired to her chambers. This time, she went to another part of the pce, near the royal wing thaty hewn into the mountainside. The housecarls stood posted deeper in, where onlymps burned in the windowless hallways, allowing none ess. Thus, Jana remained outside, walking the corridors where other courtiers could be found. She greeted them courteously whenever she passed any of them, but made no conversation. Instead, she continued walking in circles.


    Eventually, she saw the princeing down the hallway, followed by a housecarl. As he approached, she stood aside to let him pass as befitted his rank. Doing so, she brushed her arm against the wall and dropped the book in her fingers.


    Haki, the prince said, extending one hand. With a low growl, the housecarl bent down, picked up the book, and ced it in Svens hand, allowing the prince to present it to Jana.


    So kind of you, Your Highness, she said with a bashful look at the floor. Forgive me for being so clumsy.


    Think nothing of it. He nced at the title. <em>Ruminations upon the Art of Governance</em>. I have read that many times.


    I did not know, Jana imed, but it is no surprise that His Highness would educate himself on such an important matter.


    I am surprised, on the other hand, to see it in the hands of ady. Or anyone, Sven added. I did not think anybody else in Dvaros even knew of this book.


    Even an empty jar bes valuable when filled with good wine, Jana remarked. There is much I may learn in Dvaros. Both how different the city is from Alczar, but also where the two are simr.


    Really? How would they be simr?


    Both are limited in what may be built. For Dvaros, the mountain both protects and restricts. In Alczar, the location of the twin harbours determines all, Jana pointed out. It is interesting how both cities face simr issues, and yet their situations are reverse.


    How so? asked the prince with a curious look on his face.


    Alczar hasnd it may build on, yet it is entirely dependent on the sea. It cannot expand beyond what the harbours allow.


    And Dvaros?


    Your city is locked onnd, yet if the harbour could be improved, it might expand towards the sea.


    Interesting. I have had the same thought, Sven dered. The size of the harbour is too small to the detriment of the city. In fact, it was my intention to inspect the docks this afternoon.


    Briefly, Jana opened her mouth and widened her eyes a little, as if hearing this came as a surprise.


    You should apany me, Sven dered. I would hear how things are done in Alczar, in case we might learn from them.


    I would be honoured, Your Highness. Jana bowed her head. It would be best I return this, she added with a wry smile, waving the book in her hand. Or Master Gnupa might be cross with me.


    Of course. Sven took the book and handed it to Haki, who had with patience and silence been waiting on his master. Haki, bring this back to the library. Then run to the stables. We shall need another horse.


    The housecarl gave a grunt with a meaning difficult to decipher, but he walked ahead as bid.


    ~~~~


    Shortly after, three riders appeared by the harbour, attracting eyes from the few others present. Most were dockworkers or crew members from the ships moored. Some looked because they recognised the prince, others wondered at the housecarl, and the remainder were curious about thedy, whose appearance set her apart from the inders. Another curiosity was that the woman wore a cloak with the raven insignia, whereas the housecarl had nothing to shield him from the bitter wind.


    While Haki kept sharp eyes on others, Sven did not seem to pay them any attention. His own eyes rested on the fleet of longships, docked in the far end of the harbour. Nearly half the piers are taken by warships, he pointed out to Jana. Yet they simply lie still most of the time, adding little trade or value. If we built another harbour elsewhere on the ind, it would free up the piers for merchant vessels.


    That is an excellent idea, Jana eximed. Have you mentioned it to His Majesty?


    My father is too cautious, too set in his ways. An old man, Sven dered with a hint of derision. He wants the ships and its soldiers in Dvaros, as if the city could ever be attacked. With all the ships from all the inds, we have the greatest fleet in the world! Who would dare to threaten us?


    Indeed, Jana mumbled.


    Not to mention, between the mountain and the hounds, Dvaros is impregnable. Sven pointed from the peak in the north to the lighthouses in the south, guarding the harbour entrance. It is a waste to have this many ships moored here when there is no need of them.


    And if you built a new harbour elsewhere, not only ships but also crews and craftsmen would move to this new settlement, allowing further room in Dvaros for traders, Jana spected.


    Precisely, Sven said with approval. It is such a relief to speak with an understanding mind. Dvaros is old, he continued, the oldest city in all the Seven Realms. Change is an unweed guest here.


    Your Highness have clearly given this much thought, thedy spoke. May I ask a question on my mind?


    You may, the prince assented graciously. He began walking down the docks, followed by his twopanions.


    Once the harbour may amodate more traders, how will Your Highness attract them? Given that trade in the west of Adalmearc is gathered in Herbergja, it would be hard to convince the merchants to trade in Dvaros rather than on the maind, Jana pointed out.


    A good point, Sven granted. Herbergja is useful to send trade further east along the river. At least, for trade south of the Weolcans, he added with a sly expression.


    I see. You would gather trade from the northernnds, Jana deduced.


    The prince nodded. Ships from Trehaf bearing furs, amber, and copper sail to Herbergja, where their goods are sold onwards to Alczar. They might as well conduct that trade in Dvaros, especially if taxes are low and the market is less crowded.


    You have thought of everything.


    My lord, we should consider returning, interjected Haki, who walked behind holding the reins of their horses. The solstice feast will soon begin, not to mention, it will only get colder and darker.


    I am sure you can handle both, Sven replied dismissively, continuing on his walk. The housecarl gave a low grunt, looking at his cloak hanging around Janas shoulders. She mouthed an apology to him and followed the prince.


    As they walked, more great ships flowed into the harbour. Thest of the jarls had arrived, just in time for solstice.


    ~~~~


    When Jana returned to her quarters,te in the afternoon, she found Brand already present. A dress has been sent to your chamber. For tonight, courtesy of the king, I suspect.


    I better not disappoint, she replied, entering her room. How long until we must appear in the hall?


    Sooner rather thanter, I think, Brand considered. He wore a blue tunic of cotton, and the hem was embroidered with silver threads. The belt around his waist was simple, but the bejewelled hilt of his sea-steel sword made up for this.


    I must arrange my hair first, Jana told him, shouting from her room into the parlour. The wind was dreadful by the harbour.


    Did you enjoy the outing?


    It was of great interest. Oh, she eximed with a little frustration. A simple braid will have to do. I have neither tools nor time for anything intricate.


    You could simply keep it loose.


    My lord Adalbrand, what a scandalous proposition.


    It must be my years in Alczar, they ruined my manners.


    Laughter came from Janas room to reach the parlour, and thedy herself followed soon after. Her dress was green, likewise embroidered with silver at the hem. The belt in ck leather pulled the cloth together at her waist; shoes simr to those she had crossed the desert in, yet made with coarser craftsmanship, adorned her feet. s, I have not a single piece of jewellery to wear.


    Such trinkets would only detract, Brand dered, extending his arm.


    Not all your manners are lost, Jana replied, taking hold of him, and together, they left for the great hall.

 Chapter 177: EIriks Dance

    Chapter 177: EIrik''s Dance


    With the arrival of nearly all the jarls of the greater inds, about forty in all, it was time to celebrate the solstice. In Thusund, they paid greater heed to this the longest night than anywhere else in the realms. The dark winters on windswept isles, where little grew and life was harsh, bred the hardiest people in Adalmearc, it was said. Solstice gave cause for revelry and caution both. Revelry in the knowledge that days grew longer; caution that the coldest days yety ahead before spring arrived. Food stores would dwindle, and should fish not appear in abundance to supplement meagre harvest, there would be starvation. Such was life on the thousand inds, where food ever remained in scant supply. In the next months, winter would im its victims among the old, the poor, and the frail, as it had imed the kings own wifest winter.


    With jarls and their families in addition to the regr courtiers, the great hall was full. All tables had been pushed to the sides along with chairs and benches for the old and weary, including the king. The rest remained standing, circling to the tables and back to collect food and drink. Animals had been ughtered to provide a meal worthy of the asion, and each jarl had brought a tribute of meat or mead as well.


    Apart from nobility and courtiers, skalds and musicians could be found. For now, they simply provided music while people ate, drank, and talked;ter in the evening, the great songs would be performed, and there would be dancing.


    Lastly, numerous servants flitted about, attending to the needs of the guests while remaining beneath the notice of those they served.


    ~~~~


    We should make conversation with the jarls, Jana suggested quietly to Brand. Split up and see what we may learn.


    Aye, captain, Brand replied, earning him a p on the arm in reproach.


    Talk. Learn. Make the most of this opportunity, Jana impressed upon him before leaving him to approach a group of noblewomen already deep in eager conversation.


    For his part, Brand nced around the room and finally chose someone to engage in discussion. Watch duty on solstice night. You drew the short straw?


    Haki shrugged. I spentst solstice with family.


    Brand threw his head towards the crowd. Are these jarls known to you?


    Of course, the housecarl said. Theye each year, after all.


    What is your opinion of them?


    Some care about silver, others about power.


    You might argue the two are the same, Brand suggested.


    In Herbergja, no doubt. But not in Dvaros, oldest of cities. To many, even among the jarls, tradition weighs more heavily than coin or crown, the housecarl considered. Take Jarl Roar, for instance. He nodded in the direction of a heavyset man, built like a brick. His face seemed humourless even as those around himughed, and the skin of a bear kept him warm inside the cold hall.


    What of him?


    His people care little for barter except for necessities. No silver threads will line his clothing, but he knows every word of Eirik Wyrmbane, I am sure, Haki rted with a wry expression.


    Do you think he favours Lord Sven or Lady Svana?


    Who can say? Haki shrugged. I think he cares little one way or the other.


    They are hardly alike, Brand pointed out. Strange he should not think one of them more fit to rule than the other.


    Im a housecarl. Such matters are not for me to consider. Haki gave another shrug.


    And strange that two children can be born at the same time, to the same father and mother, and yet be so different, Brand considered.


    A pity they cannot both rule, but theres only one crown.


    Indeed, Brand muttered with contemtion in his eyes. A pity.


    ~~~~


    Several women stood in a semicircle, eagerly talking. The wealth on disy in their clothes differed. Some wore ordinary dresses with little ostentation, looking even simpler than Jana in her gifted garments. Others, in particr the woman around whom the half-circle had gathered, wore golden jewellery. Regardless of wealth, all wore brightly dyed clothes; on the grey isles, the inders held all colours in great esteem.


    As Jana took the empty ce in their small group, she drew their attention at once. You must be thedy of Alczar, spoke the woman with golden earrings. Already we have heard so much of you.


    I am ttered, especially as there is so little to tell of me, Jana replied politely, evokingughter.


    Hardly!


    You must tell us of your fathers court in Alczar!


    Is it true that lions and leopards dine with the jarl?


    The questions continued a long while before Jana had satisfies their curiosity. Once all the women had been enthralled by tales of the South Cities, she ventured a question of her own. As I am new, I must ask your indulgence and that you tell me of your families.


    Happily, the women pointed out their husbands, children, and any siblings, inws or otherwise, also present. As thedy in golden earrings spoke, Jana paid particr attention. She indicated a tall man, bald but with a great, ck beard neatly trimmed. My husband, Jarl Harald of Svartheim, thedy said with satisfaction in her voice. Like his wife, the jarl had a circle of attendants, listening to his boisterousughter.


    He seems most convivial, Jana remarked, and admired among his peers.


    If they can be called that, the jarlinna said pointedly, but her voice quickly became pleasant again. Here, let me introduce you. She grabbed Jana by the arm and pulled her away, even as some of the other women protested at being left behind. I need a change of conversation anyway, thedy whispered in Janas ear, and thetter gave an understanding smile. Harald, my dear, the jarlinna called out to no effect. Harald! Harald Jarl! she almost shouted over the din of music, conversation, andughter.


    My sweets wife delicate voice reaches my ear! The facetious remark was apanied by a wide smile as the jarl turned towards thedies. And your honeyed words have caught a rare bird!


    Do not be crass, dear, continued the jarlinna. This is Lady Jana from Alczar.


    I think my eyes could have told me as much, but you are good to introduce us, dear wife,ughed Harald before he gave a bow to Jana. One of two names on every tongue tonight! And yet for two opposite reasons.


    Pray tell, Your Highness, Jana asked.


    Ah, the courteous manners and titles of easternnds, the jarl remarked. Well, yourpanion is known to all and thus terribly exciting to talk about. Whereas you, my deardy, was unknown to all, which is also terribly exciting to talk about.


    I see that both fame andck of same leads the same way, Jana said.


    Indeed!


    Harald, dear, we must invite thedy to Svartheim. Her illustriouspanion too, the jarlinna inserted. Why not bring them with us on the ship home after solstice?


    We certainly have room, the jarlughed.


    That is most kind of you to offer, Jana replied courteously. I would have to speak with Adalbrand first.


    Some politepany would be preferred, rather than all the brutes you brought along,ined the jarlinna. Nothing but housecarls all over the ship!


    Ka, my dear, do not bore ourpany, Harald warned with an edge to his voice that quickly disappeared into his smile. I assure you, Lady Jana, you and Lord Adalbrand would be honoured guests. Svartheim may not have the size of Dvaros, but the ind is prosperous, and my home has many rooms. You will not be deprived of anyfort.


    You are kind, Your Highness, Jana replied, ncing at the rings on his fingers. Indeed, in thispany of jarls, you seem preeminent.


    Ah, more courtesy! It must be the sun that gives southerners such pleasant demeanours. Nothing like our dark winters, Haraldughed.


    Commotion spread through the hall; it quickly became apparent that more skalds had appeared, and a performance was underway.


    The song of Eirik Wyrmbane. We better be quiet, or Jarl Roar will have our hide, Harald grinned.


    In that case, if you will excuse me, Jana said, bowing her head.


    ~~~~


    As music began to y, Jana made her way to the edge of the hall where Brand stood. Catching her eye, he left the housecarls hitherto keeping himpany, and the two spoke quietly in the back.


    How is your evening? he asked.


    I have sailed some distance, she replied. Jarl Harald is as expected. I think he hides a cunning mind under his merry countenance. He is certainly richer than the other jarls I have seen tonight.


    How can you tell?


    Both he and his wife wear jewellery made from gold. Other than thedy Svana, I have only seen silver being worn by any tonight.


    Curious, Brand considered. Gold implies trade with Alczar. Perhaps usual for Herbergja, but not for Svartheim. In the middle of the hall, most of the guests had arranged themselves for the traditional dance apanying each verse of Eirik Wyrmbane. As the skalds sang, the guests moved in intricate patterns, both men and women. Those not participating stood by the edges; the king sat down as an exception, drinking heated and spiced wine.


    He is rumoured to favour the prince, Jana pointed out, speaking of Harald. He may have been paid for his allegiance. Her eyes fell on a woman wearing a deep blue robe with an intricate horse head sewn in silver on the chest. Who is she? I have not seen her at court, but nor does she seem to belong in thepany of these jarls.


    She is a silrobe, Brand exined. A priestess. I do not know her name. She must have arrived today.


    She does not seem to enjoy herself despite the festivities.


    I suspect her purpose is not tonight, but tomorrow at the kings council. Silrobes serve Disfara, and oaths are sworn in her name.


    I see. The singing rose in intensity, as many of the guests joined in, and the pair abandoned quiet conversation for the moment.


    ~~~~


    Throughout the evening, as breaks in the music allowed it, the jarls appeared before the king to present themselves and their families, showing their respect towards not only their host, but also their liege. As Jarlinna Herdis appeared alone, it drew curious stares and raised eyebrows.


    Wee, Herdis Jarl, the king greeted her with a thin voice. I see you stand alone.


    I thank you, Leiknarr Kongungr, replied the jarlinna, both using the old greetings. Her tone was cold. My husband remains at Silfey, overseeing my affairs in my absence. The Raven Days approach, and ill tidings soar on the winds that fill the sails.


    We appreciate that you would make the voyage, the king remarked dryly. Tomorrow you may sail home and remain at Silfey.


    For how long? asked the jarlinna with sudden sharpness. Faint rumour only reached us at Silfey, yet all the whispers in Dvaros speak of ill omens. How long, Leiknarr Kongungr, will you keep us in ignorance? We deserve the chance to defend ourselves!


    This is a celebration! Leiknarr replied equally sharp. I have called a council tomorrow. Rest your questions and usations until then, and do not forget you stand before your king. His warning was undercut by a coughing fit.


    I hope it is not toote. Herdis piercing blue eyes swept over the gathering until they found Jana. I heard that even today, your own son showed our warships to spies from Alczar.


    The king rose as fast as old knees allowed, immediately reaching out to support himself against the nearest housecarl. That is enough, Herdis Jarl. My hospitality is not without bounds. Another word, and it will be withdrawn.


    For a tense moment, jarl and king stared at each other until thedy inclined her head slightly and moved away. The skalds began ying another song and music filled the room, but the words spoken by Herdis of Silfey quickly spread through the hall.

 Chapter 178: Council in Winter

    Chapter 178: Council in Winter


    The feast continued far beyond midnight until even the pale winter morning began to approach. Most found beds before this, including the king and many of the jarls, mindful of the council nned on the following day, even if Leiknarr had not given the reason for the gathering. Brand and Jana also retired early; as the night progressed, more and more eyes looked in her direction, and they were less and less friendly. Bolting the door to their chambers, Brand slept with his sword a few inches out of the scabbard and the hilt by his head.


    Morning came without incident; Brand woke after some hours of sleep, soon after dawn. He rose, got dressed, and strapped his sword to his waist. Crossing the parlour, he knocked on the door to Janas chamber.


    Is it time to rise? she asked a few momentster with a confused voice.


    Not as such. You may sleep again. I only require one thing from you.


    What is it?


    I am leaving. I need you to bolt the door after me, and only open it for me.


    What? Brand, I am sure it will be fine.


    Promise me.


    Fine. Commotion could be heard from within her room.


    Thank you. I shall not be long.


    Brand turned and left. He moved with quick steps through corridors to reach the library, only encountering guards and a few sleepy servants. He only stopped once he stood before Gnupas door, knocking rapidly.


    Enter, came the answer after a while.


    Brand did so, finding the Dwarf stoking the fire in his hearth. Master Gnupa.


    Lord Adalbrand. I did not expect yourpany. Certainly not at this hour.


    I did not stay upte. Nor did you, I take it.


    The Dwarf shook his head, looking towards Brand with empty eyes. Too old.


    Yet I imagine you already heard everything that transpired.


    Such as what? Drunken revelry and loud singing?


    The jarls know. They know of the invasioning from Alczar. They all but used Lady Jana of being a spy.


    As fire blossomed, Gnupa sat down in his seat. You have a point?


    I have not been idle these past weeks. Your king favours his son to seed him, and some would look favourably on that. But a strong faction favours the daughter instead. The lord Sven might be a good choice in days of peace, but thedy Svana is the stronger candidate in times of war.


    You have note simply to tell me what I already know.


    Brands jaw became clenched, but he continued. If your king forces the jarls to choose a sessor, many will not support him. They may not join him in war, or worse  while the king is distracted fighting Alczar, they will turn against him. He cannot afford to force the issue of session.


    You presume much, Lord Adalbrand.


    The opportunity has passed. The jarls know of the invasion. They know the king needs their support, their ships to fight. He must dy until Alczar has been defeated. To that end, I have a suggestion.


    The Dwarf stroked his beard, reaching just below his neck. Let it not be said my ears are deaf. Continue.


    Lady Svana is eager to secure her position and push her brother aside, but there may be one way to change her course. Keep strife from erupting and keep Thusund united while the warsts. Your king must dy the choice of session and divide his duties between his children.


    Divide?


    One child to rule onnd, one child to rule at sea, Brand said. The lord Sven seeks to make changes to Dvaros and how the realm is governed. Thedy Svana seeks war, which will be fought at sea against Alczar. Given his old age, none would question that the king delegates his duties.


    Your suggestion assumes that the king, both his children, and all the jarls would agree to this, Gnupa pointed out.


    You have the kings ear. If you can sway him, I have little doubt that the jarls will see reason. As for Lady Svana, I will speak to her, Brand promised.


    I did not realise you held such influence over her, the Dwarf remarked dryly.


    I do not, but I understand how she thinks. I believe I can find the arguments to convince her.


    Gnupa pulled on his beard. The king may not agree. I think he fears that time is running out, and he is eager to see the session handled.


    If Thusund does not fight united against Alczar, there may not be any session.


    Point taken. The Dwarf exhaled. I shall speak with him. If he agrees, Lord Sven will not argue, I think. That leaves Lady Svana to you.


    Good. Brand hesitated for a moment. In light of yesterdays events, I have a request.


    Always pressing your luck, Lord Adalbrand. What is it?


    Jarlinna Herdis all but used Lady Jana of being a spyst night. Such ill words and ill thoughts will only multiply. She is not safe at this court, Brand insisted.


    The Dwarf raised one hand, signalling his disagreement. She is under the kings protection.


    Master Gnupa, if I am to be of help in theing days, I must have a clear head. I will be of no service if every moment, I fear for her safety. Even now, every thought in my mind tells me she is in danger, alone, unguarded. Brand sped his hands together, a fist inside the other. It would ease my mind to have my erstwhilepanions once more by my side, protecting her in my absence.


    This again. All the kings housecarls will protect thedy should need be. Two more will not make a difference.


    It will to me. Brand stared at the Dwarf, whose eyes could not reciprocate.


    Finally, Gnupa sighed. They im that Dwarves are born of stone, but our hearts, at least, are made of flesh. If it holds such importance to you, you shall have your men by your side.


    Thank you, Master Gnupa, Brand spoke with relief.


    I will send a carl to fetch them. I know where to find them.


    I should not be surprised at that. I thank you again. Brand turned towards the door, but Gnupas voice arrested his movement.


    But a word of advice, Lord Adalbrand. If you truly care about Lady Janas safety, you should not reveal your vulnerabilities so openly. You might yourself be the greatest threat to her.


    Brand nced at the Dwarf but gave no reply; instead, he simply left with hasty steps.


    ~~~~


    Without wasting time, Brand went straight to the inner courtyard that served as a training ring. Despitete nights and early hours, the princess and her chosen housecarls could be found. The soldiers, perhaps due to older age or less sleep, did not seem enthusiastic as such; most of them moved slowly, squinting against the sun. One leaned against his spear, looking half asleep. Only the princess moved with vigour, looking unaffected byst nights festivities.


    If the kings daughter wanted you The housecarl interrupted himself by coughing, and he gave Brand a tired look. You know what I mean. Go away.


    I must speak with Lady Svana, Brand dered loudly, causing several angry stares to be thrown at him.


    Friend, I will run you through, the guard threatened in unfriendly manner while rubbing his head.


    Let him pass, the princessmanded. Early to see you, Lord Adalbrand, and on the morn of the kings council. I wonder the cause.


    May we speak with fewer eyes present?


    Svana ceased her movements with the spear and nced at her guards. I suppose these eyes offer little protection anyway. Leave us. The housecarls did so, some looking grateful. What brings you before me? she asked once alone with Brand.


    I am here to advise you on how the crown of Thusund may be yours.


    That does leave me intrigued. She nted the blunt end of her spear in the ground and gave Brand a scrutinising look. But you should not promise more than you can deliver.


    Currently, the court and jarls are split. Some support you, others support your brother. There is one way to bridge the gap.


    I am listening.


    For now, you and your brother must share rule over Thusund, Brand exined. Let him sit in Dvaros while you take to the sea with the fleet to fight Alczar.


    You acknowledge that the South Cities mean to wage war upon us, Svana said sharply.


    As you already suspected.


    And your advice is that I should face the danger while my brother consolidates rule safely back in Dvaros, she added. I fail to see the wisdom.


    If the division in Thusund persists, you will face Alczar divided. If you agree to this, all the jarls will follow you to battle. The full might of your fleet will swiftly defeat this incursion, Brand imed. You will return to Dvaros as victor. The people, the jarls, and the army will all shout your name in exultation. As he continued, he did so quietly. In that moment, who can deny you anything?


    She scratched her cheek. I will give it consideration, she said at length. For now, I have training toplete.


    Brand bowed his head and departed, leaving the princess to her thoughts.


    ~~~~


    In the afternoon, Jana sat opposite Brand in their quarters. Between themy a board with strange pieces. It looked like chess, yet rather than both sides being equal in pieces and position, one yer held the edge, and the other side stood arrayed in the middle ground. It was a game only yed in Thusund and taught to Brand by a courtier; having borrowed the board and pieces, he was teaching it to Jana when someone knocked forcefully on the door.


    Who calls on us? asked Brand, right hand crossing over to rest on his sword hilt.


    Us, milord, came Geberics voice.


    Good, Brand said with relief. He almost leapt to his feet, unbolting the door to open it up. Geberic and ukos strode in, the former wearing a grin while thetter was more subdued in his expression. The former Queens de looked at the heavy door and the bolt with approval. Decent, though I wish we had a few spears for defence.


    We must make do, Brand admitted. Lady Jana, these are my closestpanions, Geberic and ukos. They have walked through death for me, and I owe my life to them.


    Mdy, said the greybeard with a bow while ukos repeated the gesture.


    Lady Jana of Alczar, Brand continued as introduction. You have something inmon with thedy, as she saved my life in Alczar.


    Were grateful, Geberic told her, seeing as the captain was foolhardy enough to venture without us.


    If you had tried to sneak into Alczar, we would have gotten caught on the first day, ukos growled.


    I have heard much of you both, all of it high praise, Jana assured them.


    That makes it egregious that the captain has never mentioned you to us, mdy, Geberic replied.


    I have hardly had the opportunity, Brand protested.


    See what I have had to live with? ukos interjected, ring at the greybeard.


    Enough, Brandmanded. I must go. The kings council will begin soon, and I wish to observe. You may continue to throw daggers at each other in my absence, as long as you ensure thedys safety.


    One of us should go with you, surely, Geberic objected. Theres two of us, after all.


    Brand shook his head. The threat is not against me. For once. He nced at Jana, who seemed on the verge of speaking, but she kept her tongue still. I will return soon.


    He left with quick steps. Well, Geberic said slowly, if thedy would indulge us me and ukos are dying to know what happened to the captain in Alczar.


    Jana gave a faint smile. Let us take a seat, and I shall give you answers.


    ~~~~


    The hall in the castle stood filled with people. In one end, the king sat on arge chair, nked by housecarls. His children were on opposite sides of him, some distance away. The jarls took up the middle of the hall. Some stood by the northern side, closer to the prince, among them Jarl Harald; others, such as Jarlinna Herdis, stood southwards near the princess. The remainder, including Jarl Roar, were dispersed in between. Courtiers lined the walls in between the guards, watching the council to satisfy their curiosity. Brand could be found among them, as could the silrobe, who arrived at court a few days earlier.


    Silence, the king ordered with frail voice. A housecarl stomped the blunt end of his axe against the floor repeatedly until the noisemanded everyones attention. I will not mince words. We have long suspected that Alczar was building up their fleet tounch an attack. Now, they feel ready. Once winter eases, we can expect them on our shores.


    Predictably, the dire news caused a murmur among the jarls, even if the rumours had already been rife. The housecarl once more pounded the floor to end the mour.


    Naturally, we are fortifying our defences. Furthermore, you are all called upon to assemble your ships. We shall defeat this invasion at sea before they even gain a bridgehead. These are our waters, the king continued with a rising voice, and these foreign dogs shall regret they ever came!


    Many responded with agreement and enthusiasm. Jarlinna Herdis, by the princess side, did not. Bold words, but cunning matters as much in war as brute strength. Southerners are at this very court, watching our ships and learning our defences, the jarlinna imed. By the wall, Brand practically bristled.


    If you speak of thedy Jana, she braved great dangers along with my other guest, Lord Adalbrand Arnarson, to warn us of the impending attack, the king retorted. You cast aspersions on those who deserve your gratitude, Herdis Jarl. It reflects poorly on you.


    The exile, the jarlinna sneered. You ce great faith in dubious people.


    The eyes of Thusund are not blind, Leiknarr roared in sudden anger. I will not be challenged on this! We have long had reports of hostility in Alczar. The war is not in doubt. Nor must our response be. Our ships will assemble. We shall meet the sand-lickers at sea before they even have a chance to set foot on our shores.


    Well spoken, my king, eximed Jarl Harald. Standing near the prince, he stepped forward, approaching Leiknarr but also moving closer to the middle of the hall. Unlike Herdis Jarl, we are some who stand ready. Ready to rally around a leader in this war. It is clear the choice must be Lord Sven, he dered loudly.


    As could be expected, shouts in favour and opposed resounded through the hall.


    Ridiculous! Svana strode forward to stand in front of Harald. I am the better choice to lead us in war! Behind her, Herdis manoeuvred herself next to the princess.


    Quiet, shouted Leiknarr with a raspy voice, and they turned their heads towards him. It is the kings privilege to lead the ships of Thusund or name someone to take his ce. If I desired the opinions of jarls, or my children for that matter, I would ask for it.


    What of the rumour that you wish to abdicate? asked Roar suddenly,st of the great jarls to weigh in. I see the silrobe stands ready to sanctify our oaths of allegiance to a new king. He nced at the priestess standing by the wall; she looked expressionless. Yet it is the jarls privilege to choose whom to lead us. You have no right to impose your own will on us in this matter.


    The king sat silent for a while. His hands shook a little until he grasped the armrests of his chair, but his gaze remained firm on the jarls. That is true, he finally said. While I live, I remain king. I have called this council to tell you all of another decision. I am old, he admitted. Too old to fight. He looked at Svana. Too old to oversee the changes needed to keep Thusund strong. He looked at Sven. I have decided to divide my duties between my children. Lady Svana will lead our fleet against Alczar. Lord Sven will take guardianship of Dvaros, leading new works to expand the city.


    Whispers passed through the hall; the jarls, in particr the three most powerful, exchanged nces. Lady Svana is the right choice to lead our ships, Herdis dered.


    Victory is assured by my hand, the princess proimed with confidence.


    Very well, Roar assented.


    Harald looked at the prince, who said nothing. I will not object to this, the jarl finally spoke, his fingers fiddling with his golden rings.


    Good. The kings breath came wheezing. Prepare your ships, he told the assembled jarls. War wille once winter ends.


    ~~~~


    As the council ended and jarls along with courtiers dispersed, a strange mood settled over the castle. Relief that a decision had been made with the support of all the jarls, preparing Thusund for war; anxiety that it was necessary to prepare Thusund for war. With the sun already set by the time the council dissolved, the jarls postponed their return to their own inds until the next day. For this reason, all of them were present on the next morrow when word spread with the haste of a winter storm.


    It was the chamber servant that dressed the king each morning who found his master. He called out for the housecarls, but there was nothing they could do. Their weapons protected against enemies of flesh and blood, but not against old age and cold nights. Leiknarr, descendant of Eirik Wyrmbane and king of Thusund, had died in his sleep.

 Chapter 179: Council in Blood

    Chapter 179: Council in Blood


    An hour after dawn, news of the kings death had reached everyone in the castle. By the end of the day, the whole city would know. Eventually, ships would carry the news to the other inds and the maind.


    Normally, once the many inds of Thusund heard of the kings demise, the jarls would set sail and gather in Dvaros within the next few weeks to choose a sessor. This time, it would not be needed. Nearly all the jarls had already gathered; even a silrobe was present to sanctify their oaths of fealty to the new ruler. The knowledge that a new king or queen could be chosen immediately caused as muchmotion as did the knowledge of the old kings passing.


    ~~~~


    ukos stood by the door while his threepanions broke fast in their quarters; he and Geberic slept in the parlour while Brand and Jana retained their rooms.


    Who will they choose, milord? asked Geberic, chewing bread.


    Thusund is on the brink of war. They will choose the ruler best suited to lead them through such times, Brand replied, digging into his meal. Jana swept her spoon through a bowl of porridge with a dismayed look.


    What does that mean for us, captain? asked ukos. You told us yesterday that you believed the king kept you on hand, should ite to civil war. If the jarls support this new queen, and the king is dead, that leaves us free to leave.


    It does. Brand nced from ukos to Jana. We will have to consider our options.


    Well go where you go, milord, you know that, Geberic eximed.


    I do. The situation isplicated. Thusund, Adalrik, Hthiod  war has touched many of the realms. Brand stood up, pacing about a few steps. For now, let us see the end of this matter.


    As you say, milord, ukos dered, to which Geberic nodded.


    I will attend the council and return once a decision has been made, Brand told them. Once we know the situation has been settled, we will determine our future course.


    I will go with you, ukos said, adjusting his belt.


    No. The less attention we draw, the better, Brand pointed out. Besides, I am not in need of protection. He nced in a furtive manner towards Jana. Wait here for my return.


    Aye, milord, Geberic agreed while ukos grumbled.


    As you wish, Jana acquiesced. With a brief nod towards hispanions, Brand left for the great hall.


    ~~~~


    In the course of the morning, the jarls trickled into the great hall. Everyone discussed the same topic, whether with resigned feelings or enthusiasm. The arrival of the silrobe caused further anticipation; already, a horse had been chosen for the ritual ughter to sanctify the coronation of the next ruler. Thusund had no rules for how many jarls had to be present to elect the next king or queen, but in times of peace, thirty jarls in agreement were considered favourable. In times of war or dire need, a smaller number might do, but fewer than twenty would be less than half the full number and deemed invalid. So the jarls waited, watching one after the other join them.


    Two hours after dawn, Svana appeared herself, sending a quick wave of excitement through the crowd. Brand had arrived a little earlier, watching the hall from a corner. Each time another person entered, he conferred with Haki, asking the housecarl if the new arrival were a jarl or not. Slowly, the count rose as the moments floated by. Eighteen jarls, neen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, and so forth.


    While they waited, many of the nobility circled around Svana. She stood with a confident smile, surrounded by those already eager to court her favour. Jarlinna Herdis and Jarl Roar both stood nearby, though they talked to each other rather than the princess; as two of the most powerful jarls, theirbined support was likely to determine the oue of the election. As for Jarl Harald, he had yet to appear.


    Should we proceed? asked Svana with impatience. There is little reason to dy.


    We are still missing fifteen or so of the jarls, Herdis pointed out. Perhaps it is time to send for them. Tell them the hour is now.


    Lord Sven should be here as well, Roar argued. He deserves the opportunity to be heard.


    Little good it will do, Svana imed with derision.


    Conversation continued, which masked themotioning from elsewhere in the castle. Only as it increased did awareness grow as well until the sounds could be recognised. Metal and screams.


    Everyone with a weapon drew it. Svana, unarmed, pulled a short sword from the scabbard of a housecarl. Some turned to flee deeper into the castle. Others stared at those nearby with distrust, and the remainder looked towards the doors hiding the fight beyond.


    Finally, those doors burst open, and battle spilled into the great hall. Housecarls marked with a raven fought their counterparts wearing different emblems, including the bear of Jarl Harald.


    Sneering, Svana ran forward, swinging her sword while surrounded by her warriors. Brand looked at the arriving soldiers, at the de of sea-steel in his hand, and finally at the hallway towards his own chambers. Turning from the battle, he ran in that direction.


    ~~~~


    Fighting erupted across the castle. The inner parts, delved into the mountainside, stilly untouched; the sensible courtiers fled in that direction. The remainder of the stronghold, including the courtyards, outer halls and corridors,y sttered with blood. Everything was chaos; the royal housecarls fought to defend the castle, but they could not know friend from foe among the jarls and their retinues. Some joined in the defence, others turned traitor, and the guards only knew the difference when thetter showed their colours, making their assault.


    Brand was caught in between. Fighting for neither side, hisck of insignia and drawn de left him a suspected foe of everyone he met. Battle remained as fierce in this part of the castle as the one he had left. More than once, the beleaguered royal guards turned their axes towards him. Keeping defensive, Brand slipped past them each time without causing hurt and ran onwards.


    In the next hallway, Brand ran out of luck. A warrior with a bear emblem blocked his path in the narrow corridor, wielding a spear. Lacking shield, armour, and reach, Brand was forced back. Retreating, he could do nothing but parry the spear tip thrust at him; his cloth tunic would not provide any protection.


    In a desperate fight, Brand swung his sword too wide, and it struck the walls of the hallway. Seeing an opening, the housecarl leapt forward to strike the spear in a deep manner. Swiftly, Brand evaded and used his free hand to grab the haft of the spear just below the metal point. Revealing his feint, Brand reassumed control of his sword and struck it against the haft. The sea-steel clove the wood with ease, leaving the spear useless and the housecarl astonished. His short sword was only partly drawn from the scabbard by the time Brands dey impaled in his chest.


    Seizing the now ownerless short sword with his free hand, Brand hurried on. He followed the hallway as it ended in a wider room, already upied. Two housecarls immediately turned towards him; a third pulled her weapon from the stomach of a fallen royal guard and did likewise. All three wore the bear on their chest, and all three wielded spears.


    The carls surrounded Brand on every side except his back. Wielding two des, he denied their attacks, turning one spear into the path of another, but he could do nothing more. No feints would work here that might allow him to defeat one opponent without the other two seizing the advantage.


    Once more, Brand was pushed back. Yet behind him came the royal guards with battle fury, liable to assume all unknown warriors to be enemies, including the dragonborn. Brand nced over his shoulder for a moment, and immediately, three spears struck at him. He parried all, making them interfere with each other, but his time was running out.


    From the opposite corridor leading into the room, ukos appeared like a vengeful spirit. Lacking armour, but armed with a short sword and surprise, he fell upon the housecarls. Before they could turn their spears around, he stood among them, slicing throats and shedding blood.


    Words were unnecessary. Brand nodded to hispanion and quickly exchanged his short sword for a round shield from a fallen royal guard. The pair hurried onwards, down the hallway whence ukos hade, while the battle continued to rage in the halls and corridors of the castle.


    ~~~~


    In their shared chambers, Jana and Geberic remained. Thetter stood with a drawn sword, though he kept the tip low; the door was bolted, and he would have a moments warning before any might try to force their way through. As for thedy, she sat on one of the few chairs in the room, lookingposed. Only Geberics knife in her hand showed anything out of the ordinary.


    Even through the heavy door, the sounds of battle reached them. Whenever a scream pierced the air, even Jana looked rattled for a moment, and Geberic renewed the grip on his sword. Yet the screams faded, reced by axes hacking shields and swords striking armour.


    Youre admirably calm, mdy, the old greybeard remarked.


    I went through the same experiencest year, Jana revealed. Though the fighting did not actually take ce inside the pce where I found myself at the time.


    What happened?


    My fathers mercenaries ughtered all the leaders and took the city, she rted. I was fine, of course, but few others were.


    Not a gentle man, your father.


    Far from it.


    You told us of your journey with Lord Adalbrand back to the realms, Geberic continued, but you never mentioned how the two of you were already acquainted.


    She raised an eyebrow. Is that what is on your mind at present?


    It might prove a good distraction, mdy. For you. He mumbled the next words. And me.


    Very well. Brand arrived to Alczar many years ago, as a squire. He must have been thirteen or so. I was a few years younger, Jana exined. I had no siblings, as my mother was too weak to bear more children. And being a daughter, none took interest in me.


    That seems harsh.


    My father has at least twenty daughters. Jana shrugged. Brand was different from my brothers. He taught me games and learned our speech from me in return. We explored the pce together. Those were the happiest years of my life.


    I see, Geberic muttered with his eyes on the door. The shriek of someone dying reached them from beyond the door, making both of them start. What happened next?


    Peace was concluded with Labdah, and my father sent two of his children as hostages. Daughters, with the intention we would eventually be wed to the leaders of that city, solidifying an alliance.


    That didnt happen, I take it.


    Louder and louder sounds could be heard. Fighting or movement in the corridors nearby. No, the political situation in Labdah changed quite rapidly.


    A fist pounded on the door to their chambers. Open up! shouted Brand from the other side.


    With fear turning to relief on his face, Geberic unlocked the door and pulled it open. Brand and ukos hurried inside, mming the door behind them.


    Janas eyes nced over Brands blood-soaked tunic. Are you wounded? she asked with trepidation.


    Brand shook his head, throwing his shield to the ground. Not mine, he remarked, pulling on the bloody garbs he wore. You?


    We are fine, she reassured him.


    No concern for me, I notice, ukos growled towards Geberic.


    Youll only get ideas, the greybeard retorted.


    Brand wiped his sword clean and sheathed it. It is chaos, mayhem. The jarls are ughtering each other, or at least their carls are.


    Did someone not ept the election? Geberic asked.


    It never took ce. The prince never showed. Tellingly, neither did Jarl Harald.


    He acted quickly once he learned the king was dead, ukos said brusquely.


    He did, Brand acknowledged. But more jarls, along with their carls, support thedy Svana. It will be many gruesome, bloody hours before we know who has carried the day.


    Were not getting involved, then? Geberic looked from his lord to ukos.


    This is not our fight, Brand dered. If we join one side and they lose, all of us will be executed.


    It may be toote for that, ukos remarked with his typical growl. We have already killed some fighting for the prince, or that jarl, Harald. We have tied our fate to the other side. We should be out there, ensuring it wins. He looked at the door. Let me go alone. If it goes wrong, you can disavow me. Say I acted on my own.


    Brand scratched his neck. I cannot send you out alone to die. He cleared his throat. Besides, I will lose all standing if I stay behind while others fight. Another scream rung through the air, though sounding faint; the fighting was moving elsewhere in the castle.


    Ill go as well, Geberic dered. I cant remain behind if you leave.


    No, Brand said quickly. I need you here. He nced at Jana.


    Stay, she simply said, meeting his eyes. Her knuckles turned white, grasping the knife in her hand.


    Brand looked away. Let us go, he told ukos. Picking up the raven-crested shield from the floor, he unbolted the door with quick motions, and the pair left to enter the fray once more.


    ~~~~


    The fighting continued for hours. As the short winter day began to wane, the jarls and soldiers loyal to the prince were pushed back from the halls. Blood continued to be spilled in the courtyards  the attackers formed ast line to hold fast while waiting for reinforcements from the city and harbour.


    The defenders proved stronger. Led by Svana, Herdis, and Roar among others, they repelled the attack and retook control of the castle. As hostile reinforcements surged up the mountainside to reach the castle, the gates were shut and barred, denying them entry. Less than half an hour had separated victory from defeat for the attackers; as night swiftly fell, they retreated to the surrounding streets, setting up a strong guard. They had failed to seize the castle, the princess, or the jarls loyal to her; only a siege could now deliver the fortress into their hands.

 Chapter 180: Council in War

    Chapter 180: Council in War


    The night passed without incident. Lacking siege weaponry, Jarl Harald did not attempt to assault the castle walls. Instead, his men set up barricades to enclose the fortress, keeping it besieged and protecting his sentinels from archers on the walls.


    The defining feature of the castle made it both near impossible to assault yet also easy to besiege. Half of ity hewn into the mountainside, against which Dvaros rested. No path led in or out. Thus, most of the western and northern side did not require any watch, whether from attackers or defenders. Only the two gates thaty south-west and east within rtively close distance, allowed passage.


    Inside the castle, wounds were tended to and a double watch set on the walls. The mood was as tense as could be expected. Dvaros was considered impregnable to assault; by virtue of association, most people had extended that same belief to the castle atop the city. None had anticipated a situation such as this, and panic could be felt brewing.


    ~~~~


    During the morning, Svana called for her foremost jarls to join her for a council. They gathered in the room that had served as her fathers study. The chair, covered in furs to make for afortable, warm seat, still stood in front of the hearth. Thetter had no fire, anymore. Only cold ashes remained.


    Before they had scarcely begun their discussion, Haki approached with Brand and ukos in tow. While the other two stayed in the outer room, held back by other housecarls, Haki alone stepped inside.


    What is this? asked Svana, ncing beyond the guard to see the other men. Why this disturbance?


    I thought the dragonborn might offer worthwhile counsel, Haki admitted. We all know his reputation.


    It is not your ce to hand out invitations to your queens council, Herdis remarked with a frosty voice. You forget yourself.


    How many castles and cities have you taken by storm or siege? Brand asked with a loud voice. I may be young, but my experience exceeds my years in this respect.


    Let him through, Svana conceded, and Brand entered the room along with ukos.


    You need protection even in here? asked Herdis with a scornful nce towards the former de.


    ukos defended Tothmor under siege for many days, Brand exined. I thought he might have useful knowledge to share.


    Peace, dered Roar. If it were a battle at sea, I would feel different. As it stands, we are short on both warriors andmanders.


    In any case, Svana cut through, I do not n on a lengthy siege. As we cannot expect to be relieved, we have no choice but to free ourselves.


    You intend to break through their lines, Roar said.


    Good, eximed Herdis. What does our friend from the maind think of this? she asked with a challenging look towards Brand.


    If it can be done, it is our best chance, he admitted.


    We attack tonight, under cover of dark. No need to give them more time to prepare their defences, Svana dered.


    Agreed, Roar spoke.


    We must attack from both gates, Brand imed.


    And divide our already sparse forces? Svana objected with a frown.


    It will be too easy for the enemy to direct all reinforcements to the same point of engagement. But if we make a feint, attack one barricade first, that will draw their avable forces to that ce, Brand pointed out.


    While our greater force attacks the other barricade, Herdis finished. There is wisdom in that, she conceded with a reluctant voice, but those to attack first will suffer far greater danger. They must be few in number that the other attack may seed, all the while they attract the enemy reinforcements.


    True, Brand admitted. And they must hold out until the other battle is won and friendly reinforcements can arrive from that fight. He took a deep breath, looking at ukos. If armour can be found for me and myrade, we can lead that attack.


    Milord, ukos acknowledged.


    I will join as well, Herdis dered. Let it not be said that inders let foreigners bear the brunt of battle when our situation was most dire.


    Jarl Roar and I will lead the other attack, in that case, Svana said, to which the jarl nodded. As soon as twilight ends, we strike.


    As youmand, Herdis assented.


    Since we do have some hours until then, I suggest we handle another matter, Roar spoke. He looked at Svana. We have a little over twenty jarls in the castle, even if some are badly wounded. The silrobe is here. We should elect our queen.


    Hear, hear, Herdis agreed.


    The princess inclined her head. Let it be so.


    ~~~~


    Hearing movement in the library, Gnupa rose from his inner chamber to stand in the doorway. His blind eyes looked out into the darkness, and he stood a few moments while further sounds reached him. I should have known it would be you seeking thepany of books in this time.


    Jana gave him a surprised look. You can tell it is me?


    Heughed a little. Not until you spoke. Forgive the jest. I have few opportunities.


    All forgiven, Jana told him with a light-hearted voice that did not match her grave expression. You heard of yesterdays events, I take it.


    Blind, but far from deaf. I feared the session might cause blows, but never like this. Betrayal and fighting in the very halls of this castle!


    I wish I could say I was surprised.


    The Dwarf stared towards her. Labdah?


    You are well informed.


    My position requires me to be so. Gnupa moved with one hand on the wall until his other hand found a chair that he could sit in. You should not be concerned, Lady Jana. This strife is between inders. None have reason to harm you.


    Until my fathers ships arrive andy waste to these inds, lying undefended because of your internal strife.


    He took a deep breath. There is a danger of that. But I believe this civil war will be over long before that. Your service in warning the realms has not been forgotten, at least not by me. If the need arises, I should have the resources to see you spirited away.


    Me, but not mypanion, I suspect. He has thrown his lot in with thedy Svana. And now I fear that you expect a swift oue because you do not think the castle will hold.


    An expression crossed Gnupas face. Our only relief woulde from the inds whose jarls are currently captive in here. It could be weeks before they even realise our situation, and much longer before they send forces to our aid. This deep in winter, our food storages will be low.


    You truly think it will take that long before any aid is sent?


    If Jarl Harald does what he can to dy news escaping Dvaros, which he will.


    You speak of the jarl rather than the prince.


    Gnupa gave a shrug. Lord Sven has his qualities, but he is not the sort to take decisive action. This bears the mark of Jarl Harald, trust me.


    A housecarl hurried into the library. He nced at Jana before looking at the Dwarf. Your presence in the courtyard is expected, Master Gnupa.


    Better not disappoint, the old librarian said, rising to his feet.


    ~~~~


    All the inhabitants of the castle had gathered in the courtyard, except for the guards keeping watch. In the middle stood Svana wearing a white dress of linen. Despite the cold, she did not shiver or show any signs of difort. Next to her stood the silrobe. The rest of the court and the jarls lined the edges of the yard, watching.


    The priestess raised a hand, and a stable boy pulled a horse from the stable into the ring. In a city of stone and ships like Dvaros, horses were rare to find. This stallion had been the kings own mount, though the beast had not left the stable in several years. Like its master, it had grown old, but it would serve this final purpose.


    When Jana and Gnupa arrived, the jarls had already made their positions clear to choose Svana as queen. Only the ritual remained. As thedy and the Dwarf manoeuvred to find a ce in the crowd near Brand, the people watched the silrobe take the reins of the horse. In her other hand, she held a knife made from flint.


    Deftly, the priestess cut the throat of the horse. Blood sprayed forth to colour the silver threads on her blue robe. As for Svana, her white dress turned red. As the horse fell to the ground, dying, the priestess ced her fingers in the open wound. She used her bloody fingertips to draw a rune upon Svanas forehead.


    What does the mark on her brow mean? Jana asked quietly.


    The rune of victory, Gnupa whispered. One after the other, the jarls approached to have a different mark made on their own brows. On the others, the rune to mark the steadfast. In this case, those who show fealty, the Dwarf exined. When all had been marked, the silrobe opened her mouth to exim a drawn-out sound, like a wounded bird. That, I dont know. Its something Men invented, he added with another whisper.


    When the strange song, if it could be called thus, had ended, the silrobe took an item from a pocket in her clothes. It was a crude ne with arge tooth as a pendant. She hung it around Svanas neck, bowed to the queen, and left the yard.


    The jarls and courtiers, meanwhile, crowded around their new ruler. Wyrmbane, Wyrmbane! they cried in exaltation.


    She is queen, Gnupa remarked, though his words were lost in the din of voices.


    ~~~~


    In order to besiege the castle, Haralds forces had barricaded the roads outside the gates. In the densely built city of Dvaros, carved from stone, this was an easy feat; most housesy right against each other, and only a fewrge roads gave ess from the fortress to the city itself.


    As the sun sank below the mountain, warriors gathered in the courtyards. To the west, the new queen stood, nked by Jarl Roar and a few hundred men and women. A small force, mostly consisting of the jarls, their housecarls, and the royal guards. Nearly everyone who could wield a weapon, unless their wounds precluded it; the remainder had assembled in the other courtyard under Jarlinna Herdis. The first attack woulde from them; until then, the queen and her warriors waited.


    ~~~~


    Less than fifty warriors shared looks in the eastern courtyard. Some seemed anxious, others confident. A few betrayed no emotions. Most were carls in Herdis retinue, with some royal guards to make up the final numbers. A drakonian and a Hthian were the final addition. They stood nearest to the gate, but keeping to themselves. Both wore typical chain shirts and round shields with the raven of Thusund; both had swords, one of short length, the other longer and made from strange steel.


    A few of the carls directed nces and exchanged questions among themselves seeing ukos short sword. In the engagement ahead, long spears and axes seemed more useful. On his own head be it, the carls concluded; it was toote now to change anything.


    Archers stood on the walls, appearing to be the usual sentinels. They watched the barricades until darkness swallowed the area. Neither side had torches lit to avoid giving any knowledge to the enemy. This gave both an advantage and a disadvantage as the besieged began their sortie. As the gate opened with a rumble, the sound caused somemotion, but the darkness still hid their advance.


    The barricades had been hastily erected in make-shift fashion. Stone pulled from nearby houses, barrels and sacks filled with dirt or sand to give weight, an overturned cart, boxes and everything else that would not easily be pushed aside. It was a wall in the sense it kept people back, but it could not be considered proper fortifications. None could walk upon it to defend it the same way that castle walls allowed; instead, those fighting for Sven and Harald stood behind it and on nearby rooftops.


    As the assault could no longer remain hidden, the attackers roared and made use of their weapons. Axes began chopping the vulnerable parts of the barricade. Defending archers sent arrows as best they could, though the darkness left little opportunity to aim. On both sides, spears were thrust through gaps, trying to hinder the enemy or even strike someone down.


    While most fought to destroy the barricade, others spread out to find alternative paths forward, and a few tried to scale the surrounding houses. In the darkness, chaos reigned as Haralds men frantically tried to protect the barricades and anticipate where else to defend. More soldiers appeared from the city or drawn from other defences, summoned by the noise of battle or messengers sent swiftly to gather aid.


    Finally, the axes aplished their task. Wood splintered as crates and barrels fell apart, creating a gap wide enough for several people. Commanding the charge, the jarlinna Herdis rushed through as the first, followed by her bravest carls. A wall of spears surrounded them beyond the barricade, keeping them back, and desperate fighting ensued.


    Brand had yet to join the fight, which meant ukos had not either. As those most eager sought to press through the opening in the defences, the pair kept eyes on the rest of the skirmish. To the west came sounds of battle; the queen and her force had made their own attack. It was now a question of holding on until that other fight was won and reinforcements could be sent to their own position.


    Further east, a handful of warriors came rushing forward; they had to be some of Haralds men, moving to outnk the attackers. With a nod to ukos, Brand crossed the street to face them; a few carls followed suit.


    Frenzied fighting ensued, man against man. Outnumbered, Brand and those standing by him were pressed back step by step, but they fought for every inch given; they did not seek victory, only to buy time. By the barricade, fierce blood-letting continued as Herdis and her carls refused to yield the small advantage gained. Roars of fury and screams of agony mingled in the night, and the cold winter air became saturated with the smell of blood.


    In between parrying spears and dodging axes, Brand nced west when possible. The night hid the other skirmish, and only distant sounds revealed it was taking ce. Turning his attention back on the fight, his sea-steel shattered yet another shield and sent an enemy fleeing in shock.


    ~~~~


    None had any sense of time in the midst of battle, but the long winter night still held sway as Herdis and her carls finally relented. Pushed back from the barricade, they abandoned their attempt to break through. From the south, Haralds men poured forth, sensing victory and seizing the advantage; from the east, Brand and a few others still held another contingent at bay.


    Atst, footsteps and battle cries could be heard from the west. The other skirmish had ended. Relief and excitement poured through the small force that had acted as a distraction against a superior foe. It onlysted until they could make sense of the battle cries, calling the wrong names. Sound arrived before sight, but once the warriors from the western skirmish came out of the darkness, eyes confirmed the dread that soon reced relief. Haralds men now swarmed over the cobbled streets, having driven the queen and her forces back into the fortress.


    Beset on all sides except to the north, the soldiers of the castle fell back. The jarlinna and her carls, first in the attack, made a swift retreat to the gate. Brand, ukos, and a few royal guards covered their flight, still holding the enemy back to the east. Seeing their fellows safely back, the remaining warriors tried to do the same.


    It was toote for retreat. Spears on all sides kept thest handful hemmed in. Soon, they would be overwhelmed, and if the gate were not closed, they might storm inside the castle as well.


    Standing by the entrance, Herdis looked at the fighting to one side and the courtyard to the other. Finally, she beckoned for those nearby to approach. Throw your torches, she yelled with a gesture. Confused, those holding fire did so in the appointed direction, outside where the fighting still took ce. Archers, Herdis bellowed, help them get out!


    On the walls, now with light to provide targets, the archers did asmanded. They shot with speed, not always striking where intended, but giving the enemy cause to draw back or seek safety under the walls. With a moments respite, Brand flung his shield at the nearest enemy, pulled ukos backwards by the shoulder, and the pair stumbled towards the gate. Eager hands met them, yanking both the warriors into the yard while others pushed the gate to a close.


    Relief at the narrow escape could be seen in most faces; beyond the walls, Haralds men retreated from the archers still seeking targets. Yet dismay soon took hold, banishing relief; the sortie had failed.

 Chapter 181: A Ration of Hope

    Chapter 181: A Ration of Hope


    Jana knocked softly on Brands door. Behind her, ukos stirred from the floor of the parlour where he had slept; Geberic was keeping watch on the walls, as he had not been in the assaultst night.


    Brand? Are you awake?


    I am, he replied with a voice that suggested this was a recent development. You may enter.


    She did so and found him as he sat up in his bed. Except for his armour and outeryers, Brand had slept in his clothes  white cotton with streaks of red on his arms. He rolled up one sleeve to examine a cut.


    That needs to be sewn, Jana admonished him.


    I cleaned itst night, he said. A bloody clothy next to a bowl of dirty water on the small table.


    The queen sent for you, Jana continued. Another council, I take it, now thatst night failed.


    Probably. Brand stood up and reached for his belt, tying it around the waist.


    We are trapped, are we not? And the rest of the realm does not even know our plight.


    They will eventually, he told her while looking at his other small wounds. When none of the jarls return from Dvaros, the inds will realise what is taking ce here.


    That will take time, Jana pointed out. There may be a way to hasten it.


    ~~~~


    Brand and ukos arrived as thest to the former kings study. The queen and her two foremost jarls awaited them, exchanging muted greetings. Silence lingered for a moment until Svana spoke. What do we do next?


    We prepare to be besieged, muttered Roar. He had a vicious gash down his face, roughly sewn together. The fightst night had evidently been fierce on both fronts.


    We must ration the food and water, Herdis added in acknowledgement.


    Beyond that, you must set a sharp watch over the stores, Your Majesty, ukos told the queen. Two guards at a time. Each time they are relieved, the remaining food and water must be measured.


    I would not like to think any would deign to steal, Svana spoke, but given we have already been betrayed by my brother, I will not be nave. What else?


    Every barrel and bowl that can hold water must be ced in the yard. If it rains or snows, we must gather everything, ukos continued.


    Besides our preparations, we must send for aid, Brand added. Our only hopees from reinforcements, and every day counts.


    We could attempt another attack, Herdis argued. Jarl Harald will have sent for reinforcements as well. We have some days before they will arrive to bolster his defences. We should strike again tonight.


    They will be expecting us, Roar pointed out. Our ruse to attack both barricades failed. It will certainly not work a second time.


    What good will sending a messenger do? Our enemies will not allow any to pass unhindered, Herdis retorted. cing our hope in reinforcements is futile.


    There is the priestess, Brand interjected. If the jarl or Lord Sven have any respect for the gods, they will not detain the silrobe. She can ask for passage back to Bjarghold, and from there she might alert your kinfolk of our plight.


    Neither the jarl nor the kings son have so far shown any such respect, Herdis said. And surely they will suspect if we suddenly send the priestess out alone.


    We send her with a g of truce and terms, asking for their surrender, Brand exined. Terms they are sure to reject. Asking the priestess, a silrobe even, to negotiate on our behalf makes perfect sense. Afterwards, she simply asks to return to Bjarghold.


    That could work, Roar assented with a thoughtful voice.


    And what if the silrobe decides to inform Harald of our defences? Herdis asked with gritted teeth.


    She crowned the queen, Roar protested. She would not betray us now!


    She might not be given a choice, Herdis countered. we risk losing everything. Another attack is our only hope to break out of this trap!


    What does our queen say? Roar inquired, and they all looked at Svana.


    It took a moment for her to reply. We will ask the priestess to help us.


    What of the attack? asked Herdis. Will we not try again?


    The young woman looked from one to another. We already lost scores of men, she spoke slowly. We can hardly defend our walls. We must save our strength.


    Her decision was met with mixed emotions, but none argued against the queen, and the council came to an end.


    ~~~~


    Outside the castle, Haralds men kept sharp watch. They kept behind barricades and improvised shelters, avoiding any archers on the walls, but through narrow slits and other such spyholes, they observed the guards on the fortifications and any other activity. Thus, as the western gate opened, it was immediately noticed, and the jarls men raised the rm. Their numbers were bolstered by many warriors from the city, who had sided with the prince for one reason or another; the only story in Dvaros concerning the fateful day after the kings death was told by Harald, after all.


    Weapons ready and eyes scouting in every direction, the defenders of the barricades watched a solitary figure leave through the gate. She wore a blue robe with a horse embroidered in silver thread; the moment she was outside the castle, the great doors were shut.


    Inside the courtyard, the queen and her counsellors watched as the priestess left the fortress. She had agreed to carry a message to the kin of the jarls loyal to Svana, once she was safely out of Dvaros  assuming she would be allowed to leave the city.


    With the gate closed, the spectacle was at an end. The queen turned back into the castle; around her, servants were busy cing barrels and other suitable receptacles, in case it snowed.


    ~~~~


    Rumours spread across the castle after the silrobes departure, though only a few knew the reason. Some were envious that the priestess had been given a chance to escape  no others had been allowed to leave, out of fear they might reveal knowledge of the defences to Harald. Others wished the silrobe good riddance; having experienced the jarls honour when he broke the peace, they would rather trust the castle walls than Haralds benevolence to keep them safe.


    Hourster, shortly past noon, the tense calm shattered when activity outside the walls erupted. Swiftly, the barricades were opened, allowing warriors to pour through the gaps. With them, they carried siegedders. On the walls, the cry went up to seize arms, and the warning was bellowed inside the fortress. In the halls and rooms, defenders grabbed weapons; most of them already wore armour in anticipation of moments such as this. They ran through the corridors, at times colliding, all of them frantic to reach the walls in time.


    The assault was well nned, threatening every section of the walls from east to west. Thedders went up, reinforced at the bottom to keep them from being toppled. In some ces, grappling hooks were deployed as well, providing another way of scaling the fortifications and force the guards to spread out further. Archers, as skilled as their counterparts on the walls, harried the defenders trying to rally. Acting swiftly, some of thetter quickly cut the ropes attached to the hooks, and the unlucky attackers were sent tumbling down twenty feet or more, screaming and cursing. Others went for thedders, hacking away at the top steps to render them unusable.


    But there were too many hooks anddders to disable them all, and soon the attackers made it to the walls. Meanwhile, defenders streamed across the courtyards, rushing up to join the fighting. They shed on the fortifications. Jarls and carls, inders against inders, with a few drakonians and a heathman caught in between.


    For the longest moment, the fight seemed equal. The turning point came as the defenders reinforced faster than the attackers. Despite the number ofdders and hooks flung against the walls, Haralds men could not climb as fast as Svanas soldiers could run, rushing out of the castle to reach the outer fortifications; meanwhile, those waiting on the ground stood exposed to arrows from the towers. One after the other, each point on the walls held by Haralds men was retaken, and the attacking warriors ughtered to a man. Finally, the signal to retreat was given; a drawn-out sound sted from a horn, and the jarls soldiers pulled back.


    ~~~~


    As the battle ended, Brand returned to his quarters. He walked alone; ukos still patrolled the walls, eyeing the barricades, and Geberic had taken a gash down his arm that demanded treatment by skilled hands. Inside, he found Jana seated, though she quickly rose when she saw him. On the small table in the roomy rough bandages, a bowl of water, and a needle with thread.


    You cannot sleep your injuries away, Jana told him. I will not let you.


    He removed his helmet; sweat made his hair stick to the leather inside. As before, a range of fresh cuts across his body had joined the old ones, several of which bled anew due to his exertions. They are all minor, he imed.


    Remove your armour, please.


    He did as asked with a little help from her, losing his surcoat and the chain shirt after.


    Did  did this jarl attack us because we sent the priestess to him? Did she betray us?


    I doubt it. They must have spent yesterday building thosedders. This was already prepared, Brand considered. His armour gone, he sank into a seat by the table. Dragging the other chair in the room over, Jana sat opposite him, rolling up his sleeves.


    You havee a long way since Alczar, Brand remarked with half a smile. When did you learn this?


    I watched the desert dwellers tend to your wound, Jana exined. You do not recall because you were passed out. She began cleaning his wounds. At least all my hours of learning needlework will see some use.


    How did you get the water? he asked with a sudden frown.


    I saved my ration.

 Chapter 182: Collapse

    Chapter 182: Copse


    Time passed slowly in the castle following the assault. While the mood remained tense, it became less anxious when the jarls men did not renew their attacks, but seemed content to continue the siege. Severed from the city, the courtiers had to find other ways of passing the time. Some sought the library, but with candles and firewood being rationed, reading was only possible in the brief hours of the day.


    Half of theplexy burrowed inside the mountainside, providing shelter from the cold and unassable safety, but it also prevented any kind of natural light to reach the inner halls and chambers. Thus, the courtiers crowded the meagre gardens with barren trees and worn grass, defying the cold to enjoy the pale sunlight. Others braved the courtyards for the same purpose, though with only a wall between them and the jarls rebels, few seemed to find any rxation in those areas. Some of the carls trained weaponry, but only lightly and briefly, preserving their strength in case of another sudden assault.


    To a few, time passed swiftly. A handful of people knew how much water remained in the cisterns, how many bags of flour and barrels of salted fishy in the inner stores, guarded more jealously than gold. Several times a day, Roar measured the provisions; when rations had been distributed, or the guards changed, the jarl consulted his meticulous records to keep everyone honest. Afterwards, he went to Svana and gave his estimate of how many days worth of supplies remained. As for the queen, she shared this information with the few people she relied upon for counsel; the rest of the castle were left to specte and guess.


    As for the servants, their tasks kept them upied for the most part, and the rest of their time was spent in their now cramped quarters. Those who lived in the city had been forced to find beds inside the castle, making room scarce. Only a few of them had any rtives also trapped inside the walls, leaving nearly all of them unable to see their families. Although letting them leave would ease the strain on provisions, the risk that one of them would betray knowledge of their defences to Jarl Harald was deemed too great. Instead, they kept at their work and prayed for a swift end to the siege; quietly, only whispered among themselves, some prayed for a swift end regardless of the oue.


    In this manner, time passed since the first assault upon the fortifications, since the cries of rm had risen, calling the defenders to the walls. Ten dayster, those crises rose yet again into the air.


    ~~~~


    Dvaros had no engineers. A city with scarcely any walls had little need for their knowledge of warfare; in the ind kingdom of Thusund, war took ce at sea between ships or as attacks upon harbours, and sieges were seldom. As the defenders rushed to the western walls, a rare sight greeted their eyes. Up the sloping road, a handful of men pushed a battering ram. It had been constructed by shipwrights and a few veterans with previous experience of sieges; most apprentices to the engineers guild in Fontaine could have built better. But the construction held together as the soldiers pushed it along, walking inside the frame. Further behind, beyond the range of arrows, hundreds of men stood assembled.


    Archers on the walls released their bowstrings, but the house of the ram kept the men inside safe. Fire arrows followed, striking the sloped roof of siege engine. Reinforced with wet hides on top, the ram scorned the mes, which soon died out.


    Having watched the defenders futile efforts, Brand turned his eyes inwards. He gazed over the courtyard until he found the queen, ordering her troops to the battlements. While soldiers rushed up the stairs to the walls, Brand went the opposite way, struggling against the mass of armoured bodies and shields. Finally reaching the ground, he ran to the queen.


    How long for ships to reach Jarl Haralds ind and return to Dvaros? Brand gasped the question.


    The young queen swung around in his direction with a harried expression. What?


    A week with favourable wind, two weeks if not, Roar replied, appearing next to them. They have reinforcements, the jarl realised.


    There are hundreds outside, Brand told them. We are badly outnumbered! Their ram will take down the gate in moments, and they will flood the courtyard!


    Then we hold them back! Svana replied.


    It will only dy the inevitable briefly, Brand argued.


    He is right, Roar admitted.


    Then we die fighting, the queen dered, almost shouting over the noise of battle preparations.


    Brand looked beyond Svana, inside the castle. The cisterns are deep in the mountain, he muttered, but not the rest. He looked at Roar. Call for the servants, and every man or woman with idle hands!


    ~~~~


    The ram rolled on. Despite everything the defenders tried, it could not be stopped. Arrows and fire had no effect. Heavy stones were thrown from the gatehouse, making the timber groan when struck, but it did not break.


    The fortress in Dvaros was ancient, older than any dwelling made by Men in the Seven Realms. The stonework was exquisite, made by Dwarven hands and strong as the mountain ity against. This also meant that no further defences had been added in the many centuries since. Any engineers first proposal would have been stone throwers atop the gatehouse to destroy any attacking rams, but the defenders had no more ess to such knowledge than the attackers did. And by now, it was toote.


    However strong the stonework, the gate was made of wood. The jarls men pushed the frame up close and began to swing the iron-capped ram, striking the gate like a hammer.


    No further arrows flew, no stones fell. The defenders had abandoned their attempts to stop the ram. It continued to strike. A better built ram would have broken through the gate faster, but the task was being done. To the troops waiting, huddled up against the walls to avoid the archers on the towers, every moment seemed as a storm building up at sea. Like thunder and lightning tearing the open horizon apart, the anticipation was reflected on their faces, red with battle fury.


    Finally, the tempest broke loose, the gate fell apart, the nks shattered into pieces. Roaring, Haralds men stormed through the gap in the otherwise unbreachable walls.


    Nothing but silence met them.


    They spread across the yard before halting their advance, exchanging confused looks. Closing ranks, they sent watchful eyes in every direction. The walls, the towers, the gatehouse, and the keep itself all seemed devoid of life.


    Confusion spread outside the walls; the jarls men crowded together, trying to pass through the narrow gap, but they heard no sounds of the battle as expected. With distrust, the attackers slowly spread out while some worked to remove the remains of the gate, allowing easier entry.


    A few ran up onto the walls, exining matters to those outside. Some finally braved the castle doors and found them blocked. Men with axes were called to the forefront, and they began striking the heavy nks. Others entered the towers and searched down the fortifications.


    The axes were still at work  the timber for the great doors was reinforced and tough  when one man came running back along the walls. The east, he shouted, they are in the eastern yard! Hurry!


    Those standing idle heeded the call, and more than a hundred warriors hurried up the stairs, passing down the length of the wall. Reaching the eastern courtyard, the initial report was confirmed. Scores of people, whether servants, courtiers, or soldiers, walked quickly back and forth. They entered one of the storages built between the keep and the outer walls and left again, carrying sacks or rolling barrels.


    Theyre here! came the shout upon seeing Haralds men on the fortifications. Immediately, the guards dropped what they carried and seized their weapons, while more warriors appeared from within.


    Keep hauling, yelled Roar to the terrified servants and courtiers, as he himself carried a heavy crate inside before grabbing his axe and shield. Keep them back! He gestured with his weapon towards the stairs leading down from the walls.


    His carls responded with cries of battle and rushed forward. They aimed spears and axes at the narrow staircases, where only a few enemies could appear at a time. For a moment, this bnced the uneven numbers, and the attackers began jumping down from the upper steps, as high as they dared. Somended poorly and were struck down immediately, never to rise again; others managed to find footing and could attack the defenders from other angles. The fight turned into chaotic skirmishes as the jarls men filtered into the courtyard from several directions, and cries of fury mixed with those born of panic.


    ~~~~


    Jana walked with staggered steps inside the castle doors, struggling under the weight in her arms. Her dress was tied up to help her move less restricted. Taking a few more paces, she finally let the bag of flournd on the ground. They were nearly done emptying the storage of all food provisions. Catching her breath, she turned around again. As if the din of fighting left any doubt, she saw the battle raging while inders ughtered inders. Her eyes found Brand, a tall figure nked as always by the stocky ukos.


    Already, others fled deeper into the castle; unarmed servants and courtiers abandoned by courage. Resolutely, Jana stepped outside. Arrows began to fly; archers had arrived to help the attackers deal with the resistance. Only five steps ahead of her, one such missile impaled the skull of a servant, and he died before hitting the ground. Swallowing, Jana ran outside, grabbed the bag dropped by the dead man, and dragged it inside.


    She left it by the pile, wiping sweat from her brow. Behind her came the foreboding sound of the doors being shut. Jana turned quickly, watching two carls barring the entrance. They are still out there! she shouted, running forward. She began to pull on the doors.


    Calm yourself, demanded one of the guards, a dour-looking Dwarf. The queen told us to close the gate.


    What of those outside? Jana asked with despair.


    Theyll have to find another way back, the carl told her. Help the others drag that away, hemanded her, nodding at the supplies lying piled up. Well need the hallway clear.


    Jana sent him a spiteful look and left with empty arms. She ran down the corridors to the inner part of the castle. Confusion ruled as people moved in every direction, often hindering each other. Servants dragging provisions, warriors receiving call to arms, people fleeing in terror.


    She reached the great hall, made into a temporary sickhouse for the wounded. Head turning, she looked over a sea of misery and pain. Wounded men and women, sitting or lying down, with all too few hands administering aid.


    Haki, she called out, approaching the carl.


    He sat, pressing a bloody rag to his neck. Hearing his name spoken, he opened his eyes partly, but quickly closed them again. What, he mumbled.


    Did youe from the courtyard? Was Brand with you?


    No, he spoke in the same, slow manner as before. I was at the western doors. They broke through. Thest words could barely be heard.


    More people arrived, being carried or limping on their own. Others passed through quickly, pursuing various errands. Outbursts of agony were reced by death rattles, and blood stained every surface.


    Jana, a voice called out, and she turned on her heel.


    With weary steps, Brand made his way through the many wounded lying on tables or on the floor. She met him halfway, throwing her arms around him. I thought you were trapped, she spoke quietly, outside.


    They kept a door open for us. He reciprocated her embrace with one arm; the other hand held his bloody sword. Copsed the hallway behind us.


    The jarlinna will have need of us, ukos said in a low voice, appearing next to them. They must be through the western doors.


    Brand extricated himself from Jana. I will be back. Stay safe. Looking exhausted, he followed ukos out of the hall, towards the sounds of battle.


    ~~~~


    The fighting continued for the rest of the day. Where possible, the defenders copsed the doorways into the inner part of the castle. The great doors to the western and to the eastern courtyards were the exceptions; destroying therge stone arches here would bring down parts of the castle and most likely leave the defenders permanently trapped.


    Thus, the battle for the castle became funnelled into the entrance halls. The defenders desperately fought to buy time while theirrades built barricades further in, hauling furniture and statues from every room. It was mayhem with every soldier fighting on his own, and the bodies began to pile up.


    Both sides suffered losses, but the constrained area kept Harald from using his superior numbers; while most of his men were levies from his ind jarldom, the remaining defenders were royal guards, jarls, and their housecarls, as well as one drakonian wielding sea-steel and a fearsome heathman, inferior to none. Man for man, the defenders proved the stronger warriors, and the attack was pushed back.


    As the day waned, the assault was abandoned. With the provisions rescued from the outer stores, the siege continued, only moved one step further. The walls had fallen, as had the gates for the keep itself. Only the inner part of the castle, hidden under the mountain, remained in the defenders hands. Barricading the hallways as best could be done, they prepared for an anxious watch with little separating them from the enemy.

 Chapter 183: Days in Darkness

    Chapter 183: Days in Darkness


    When the siege began, the mood inside the castle had been anxious. Now, retreated into the inner part of the fortress, dready in the very air. Every other day or so, Haralds men attempted to breach somece new. They attacked the barricades in the entrance halls, or they worked to clear the rubble from the copsed hallways and open new paths of assault.


    Day by day, the situation grew ever more desperate. Many of the defenders had fallen or received severe wounds; those still able to fight had to maintain constant vigil, often repulsing renewed attack by Haralds men. Pushed back into the castle, none of them saw the sun anymore except when guarding the outer entrances. Inside, day and night could only be measured by the slow burning of candles, providing sparse illumination. And with steadfast progression, the storage of food and water dwindled. Only one thing worked to the advantage of the defenders; their low numbers allowed them to stretch their provisions.


    ~~~~


    ukos sat in the great hall, keeping quiet as the needle pierced his flesh. His armour, serving faithfully until today, had broken atst under heavy axe blows. The rings had burst, allowing the steel edge to cut through leather and fabric and cleave flesh beneath. Killing his enemy, ukos had driven the remaining attackers back and guarded the corridor alone for an hour, surrounded by fallen friends and foes alike, before his situation was discovered and relief sent. Thankfully, the axe had struck his left shoulder, leaving his sword arm unhurt.


    Nearly done, Jana said gently, stitching his skin together. ukos growled in acknowledgement. You remind me of someone, she continued. A protector like you, and a man of even fewer words.


    Who?


    His name was Selim.


    He protected you?


    He did.


    Is that how he died?


    Yes. She breathed rather than spoke the word, though her face only expressed the same weariness as everyone else inside the castle.


    Then he had a good death.


    That does not make me miss him less.


    No. ukos cleared his throat. You sew well.


    It were better if I fought well. s, I was only taught to wield the needle.


    A fearsome weapon in your hand.


    She smiled, but her expression quickly faltered. You do not know what it is like, every time the fighting starts. When you can do nothing but wait and hope and pray.


    An expression ran across ukos face as if chewing. He will not die. The gods have something else in store for the captain.


    And what of you, ukos of Tothmor? She finished her sewing.


    He carefully moved his shoulder, watching the stitches. They held. I reckon neither the gods nor Hel want me. He gave her a wry look and got up, whereas she turned to the next injured warrior, requiring attention.


    ~~~~


    Holding a thin candle, Brand walked through the library. The me struggled to illuminate the room, and he walked with slow steps, navigating around the furniture. The unpleasant smell of tallow followed him; any candles made of beeswax had long since been spent.


    He reached Gnupas room, whichy d entirely in darkness. Who is there? asked the Dwarf.


    You heard me? I did not think I made much noise.


    Lord Adalbrand. No, you are certainly quiet, but I could smell your candle.


    Ah. Of course.


    Please, enter. Find a chair if you can. The Dwarfs smile could be heard if not seen.


    Using his free hand to fumble his way forward, Brand found a seat. Judging by Gnupas voice, he sat opposite. I suppose you are the one person at court not troubled by our perennial night.


    You would think so, Gnupa replied, but when you cannot see sunlight, it bes all the more important to feel it on your face. He learned forward, and the light from Brands candle fell upon him, showing stretched skin and hollow cheeks.


    You will get the chance soon, I suspect. If the count of candles is right, it has been seven days since our retreat. Our food situation will notst much longer.


    It is the queens prerogative to share such knowledge, Gnupa said in tight-lipped fashion.


    You counsel her. You must have given consideration to epting terms of surrender.


    I am surprised to hear you speak in such fashion. After all, I am told it was your idea to retreat further into the castle. And you have been a stalwart defender through the siege.


    I have done what I could, Brand assented, but we have run out of time.


    The queen awaits reinforcements from the loyal inds, the Dwarf simply said.


    I saw the harbour as we sailed into Dvaros, he continued. The watchtowers and the chain that guards the entrance. It would be impossible for any fleet to make a direct assault. There are no reinforcementsing.


    I suggest you keep that opinion to yourself, Gnupa warned him.


    Happily. I did note to quarrel but ask for your advice.


    You have a strange way of asking.


    Thest days have left me little time to practise courtesy. Brand wore a haggard expression, suggesting his sleeping hours gave little rest, and his waking hours gave only hardship.


    I will not belittle your contributions to the queens cause, Gnupa said in acknowledgement. What do you wish to know?


    When  if the castle surrenders, Brand began to say. How may I and mypanions expect to be treated?


    The sound of a hand brushing against something soft could be heard; Gnupa was stroking his beard. Neither Lord Sven nor Jarl Harald are savages or vicious men. You are dragonborn, and you havemitted no acts of dishonour.


    Other than, possibly, choosing the wrong side.


    Under normal circumstances, I would expect exile for you. A ban forbidding you to ever return to Thusund.


    Under present circumstances?


    Gnupa exhaled. You have powerful enemies, Lord Adalbrand. You would make an excellent gift for any seeking to gain favour from them, such as the lord protector of Adalrik. A new king of Thusund, having obtained the throne through bloodshed and seeking to legitimise his rule, would be inclined to strike an alliance with Adalrik. Especially with Alczars fleet on the horizon.


    It sounds as if you are advising such a future king rather than me.


    Gnupa shrugged. I counsel the ruler of Thusund, whomever they might be.


    What counsel would you give me, if my acts have earned me the privilege of asking?


    Hide. Run. Escape. The advice was given in calm, but firm fashion.


    Thank you, Master Gnupa. Brand rose from his seat and walked out, leaving the Dwarf behind in the darkness.


    ~~~~


    On the inner side of the barricade, a royal guard kept watch. He stood despite the long hours, rather than risk falling asleep from sitting down. He had no light with him, keeping his presence hidden and his eyes alert to any bright shes from beyond the tangle of stone and wood dividing the hallway.


    Commotion and torchlight broke the quiet. Without any pretence of stealth, the jarls men attacked the barricade. They hewed the wood with axes, working in sparse illumination to demolish the barricade. Caught off-guard at first, the sentinel yelled for reinforcements and began stabbing with his spear, aiming for light or movement.


    His call to arms swiftly became echoed from every direction. All across the castle, wherever a path might be carved or cleared, Haralds forces attacked.


    Roused by the many cries for help, the defenders scattered throughout the castle. None gavemands, deciding who to send where; each remaining warrior ran to defend ording to their own impulse.


    ukos moved to the closest corridor under threat. He stood alone, and the way he held his shield revealed his injured shoulder. Several inders attacked, thinking him an easy opponent. His short sword felled four. As their bodies filled the floor, causing an obstacle of their own, the remainder retreated.


    Brand held the eastern entrance along with Haki, mostly recovered from his wounds. The fighting was furious, but the attackers could not contend with sea-steel in the hands of a knight, and they fell back.


    Herdis and her carls held the western corridors. Both sides had losses, but the defenders stood firm and finally repulsed the attack.


    Roar and his men stood in the western entrance. Always the weakest point of defence, the attack came fiercest in this ce. With valour, the jarl and his remaining sworn men fought, but one by one, they fell. The housecarls first, protecting their lord as long as they could, and finally dying for him. As thest, Roar fell.


    With this initial victory, Haralds forces surged forward. They continued down the corridors now open to them, exploring to find some of them blocked, others deadly. Leaving the entrance hall, they also left daylight behind. Some brought torches, carried in their shield hand, providing light but hampering their fighting. And unlike the defenders, the jarls men had not spent thest ten days living in nearplete darkness, practising and sparring under such circumstances. As they advanced, the queen and her guards fell upon them.


    From different rooms and other hallways, thest royal carls appeared, catching the invaders from all sides. They stood as much chance as mice in an open field, hunted by owls in the night. Quickly, they were ughtered to a man.


    When the din of battle ended and none of his men returned, Harald abandoned the assault. Scores of his soldiersy dead, and as best he could tell, only a few of the defenders had fallen. The trumpets rang across the castle, calling the retreat back to daylight and open air.


    The defenders had won, but none gave cheers. Their situation remained as desperate as before, and each victory came with a price, this time paid by Roar and his carls. Their bodies were retrieved and ced in the great hall. Later, they would be stored in the deepest chambers under the mountain, where the cold might slow the rot  the defenders had no ce to bury their dead. For now, the queen showed him the honour of cing his body on the high table of the hall, surrounded by weapons taken from fallen enemies.


    Strange, ukos remarked as he and Brand watched the inders show Roar their respect.


    What is?


    They must know we are nearly starved out. Yet this assault suggests impatience.


    It does.


    What does that mean, my lord?


    Brand exhaled. I cannot say. Get some rest.

 Chapter 184: The Path to Tread

    Chapter 184: The Path to Tread


    After the failed assault, the defenders remained on edge for hours; dealing with the dead and wounded could leave an obvious opening for another attack. Yet nothing happened, and while they kept watchful, most of them sought sleep.


    When they woke, nothing had changed. In fact, there had not been any sign of their enemy since the attack. It was a strange urrence; hitherto, the besieging forces had constantly been at work trying to open copsed hallways, sending arrows through gaps and windows, or otherwise made attempts to undermine the defences.


    At first, it was considered a wee reprieve, presumably born from the heavy losses sustained by Haralds men in theirst attack. But as the hours dragged on without the slightest noise made, the defenders grew wary. It seemed a trap to lure them out. Yet if the enemys absence were born of preparations for a new assault, perhaps through a forgotten, undefended passage, it would be even worse. In the end, a brave housecarl volunteered to investigate.


    ~~~~


    He returned half an hourter. First, he had entered the courtyard. He saw no signs of the enemy except the remnants of campfires, splintered shields, and the like. Stepping up to the walls, none hindered his passage. He walked along the fortifications for a while, turned back, and finally ascended one of the towers. His eyes saw no enemies near the fortress; only far down the mountainside, by the harbour, could movement be spotted.


    Further discussion ensued, as none could guess the cause of this. Another pressing question was how to seize upon the opportunity. Given how few remained, it would be pointless to take control of the outer fortifications; the queens scant forces would never be able to defend them. But perhaps provisions might be found nearby or procured in the city, should they suddenly find themselves under siege again.


    While some set to work scavenging supplies, whether food, water, cloth, or anything else, two fleet-footed carls went down the mountain to spy on the harbour and learn what they might.


    ~~~~


    Standing on the tallest tower of the castle and looking down on the courtyard, activity was so hectic, it resembled an anthill most of all. In contrast, the city beyond the wallsy dead. All the people of Dvaros kept indoors. The only exception was, as before,motion by the harbour. Ships could be seen sailing into port, disgorging soldiers ashore.


    Someonesing! shouted the guard atop the tower, leaning over the wall to alert those in the yard. Small party, a score or so!


    Get inside, Brand told Jana. They had been turning a splintered cart into firewood  Brand swinging the axe and Jana hauling it inside. Weapons, he told ukos, giving the axe back to Haki while the heathman fetched their shields leaning against the castle wall. Geberic emerged, having dropped his bundle of wood inside.


    A scores too few for an attack, mumbled the greybeard. They might be here to seek terms.


    Or it is a trap, ukos pointed out.


    Either way, if there is fighting, we retreat back into the castle, Brand dered. He looked at Svana as she arrived, having heard the news. The few remaining jarls still on their feet came as well, including Herdis. They clustered around the queen, walking up to the ruined gate to look beyond.


    Should we join them, milord? asked Geberic.


    We will stay back for now, Brand muttered. Until we know what is happening.


    The old sergeant looked up at the sky; it was not yet noon. Better enjoy the daylight while you can, he mentioned to ukos. Just in case well be stuck another fortnight inside the dark. He only received an ambiguous growl as reply.


    The tension perfused the air as the moments dragged by. Finally,motion erupted by the shattered gate, where the queen and jarls stood, but no weapons were drawn. The besieged nobility left the erstwhile protection of the gatehouse to meet the soldiers walking up the street; thetter group was led by the carls sent ahead as scouts.


    Moving across the courtyard, Brand and hispanions passed through the remnants of the gate. Beyond, they saw the ostensible leader of the delegationing up the road; he stood tall in heavy armour, signalling wealth and experience in war. The besieged inders had a variety of reactions seeing him; relief was chief among them, and the jarlinna Herdis went so far as to embrace him.


    Lord Ketill, Svana greeted him.


    The man in question extricated himself from Herdis and gave the queen a bow while grinning. Svana Kongungsdttir, he replied. Svana Konungr, he corrected himself, his smile growing wider. We are not toote.


    I never doubted for a moment, Herdis proimed, standing nearly as tall beside her husband.


    While your arrival is not a surprise, I wonder how you managed to banish all our enemies from the city, Svana said.


    Ketills expression became grave. If only so, though the truth is, they remain a threat. I should exin from the start, he suggested. We received word from the silrobes of the situation  many of the inds did, in fact. We gathered our ships as fast as we could and set sail for Dvaros, but we found the city fortified and heavily guarded.


    Jarl Haralds reinforcements arrived first, Herdis muttered.


    We attempted an assault, but we could not take the harbour walls nor get past the chain, Ketill exined. Knowing their provisions would have to be low at this time in winter, we decided to blockade the city.


    Youy siege to those besieging us, the queen remarked, causingughter, either from amusement or simply from relief.


    Wended troops on the ind to keep them hemmed in overnd as well. Without ships bringing in supplies or fishing boats going out, I knew they could notst long, Ketil continued.


    And they abandoned the city?


    The nobleman nodded. We made terms. We allowed them to leave in their ships in exchange for leaving the city in our hands. It would have been better to see your traitorous brother and his rebels ughtered, but we did not know your situation, he added. I did not dare dy, out of fear that you might surrender the castle first.


    A few more days, we might have, Svana admitted. But we must pursue my brother and above all, that viin Harald of Svartheim, she continued with fervour. Every day we wait, they will gather their strength.


    Our ships are at your disposal, Svana Konungr, replied Ketill. All the loyal inds have gathered by now.


    We will spend today making preparations, Svana dered. Tomorrow, we set sail!


    While the inders moured in agreement, an unusual pair moved up the road to join the others. Neither of them hailed from Thusund by their appearance and garbs. Both wore great swords, though the womans hand leaned on the pommel as she walked, tipping the de backwards to keep it from scraping against the ground.


    I dont believe it! eximed Geberic. Milord, do you see?


    I see them, though I am astonished as well, Brand admitted, stepping forward to meet the neers. He sped hands with Gwen, his kinswoman, and inclined his head towards ric, who replied with a bow.


    About time you two showed up, ukos told them brusquely. We sent you a message months ago.


    And we left Portesur as soon as we could, ric said in defence. We boarded the first ship that would take us here. But by the time we reached Dvaros, we found a fleet blockading the harbour, refusing us entry. The captain of our vessel decided to turn back, but we convinced these inders we hade to join their fight to free the city. The kingthane gave a wry smile. Not entirely wrong, even if our aim was rather to free someone else than their queen.


    Ill be happy if I never set foot on a ship again, Gwen dered with a disgusted expression. Constant movement, back and forth, and only blue as far as the eye can see! Revolting.


    Not everyone found their sea legs, ric exined gently. His eyes looked at the remains of the gate, destroyed by a battering ram many days ago. Your tale looks more interesting than ours.


    Come. Brand nodded towards the castle. You can talk in our chambers.


    Do you have anything to eat? asked Geberic. Im starving!


    ~~~~


    The castle gardensy quiet. With the siege at an end, nearly all the inhabitants had hurried away from the keep, most of them to find their families in the city. The exception was Gnupa, the keeper of the royal library and advisor to the throne. He sat with closed eyes and his face towards the bleak winter sun.


    Who is there? he asked upon hearing footsteps.


    It is I, Brand announced. May I disturb you?


    I can enjoy the fresh air and talk at the same time, the Dwarf assented.


    Everything has changed since yesterday, Brand spoke, taking a seat on the bench. If Godfrey was here, I would ask his advice, but he is not.


    And I am the next best choice, Gnupa smiled, turning his white eyes towards Brand.


    You are in his counsel, I take it. I was meant to meet him in Portesur, but that was many months ago. Mypanions have arrived from that city, yet saw no sign of him, Brand exined.


    While I have known Godfred for many, many years, I am rarely privy to his thoughts, the Dwarf admitted. All he told me was to lend you aid, to consider you part of our circle.


    He imed he could have me reinstated as a knight, Brand revealed. While I went to Alczar, he would see my spurs restored, and I could lead the Orders armies once more. But without word from him, I am unsure what course to take.


    I have no knowledge of Godfreds current whereabouts, if that was your thought. I have not heard from him since before your arrival.


    I assumed as much. I could stay and wait for him, Brand considered. I would not be idle in Thusund. The queen has a rebellion to quell, and Alczars fleet could be on the horizon within weeks.


    Your contribution would be valued, I am sure.


    The other choice is to travel to the maind. Either find Godfrey or take matters into my own hands. The ounders will resume their invasion, from what he told mest year. The dragonborn looked at the Dwarf. Do you see reasons to support one over the other?


    Gnupa sat silent for a long moment. As an inder, I would counsel you to stay. As a Dwarf, I would tell you to go east and destroy the Godking, once and for all! The final words came with sudden ferocity.


    You know of him? I would not have thought that Thusund paid much heed to the ounders.


    The inders do not, but my people do. Gnupa exhaled, looking away. He has been our enemy long, long before we came to these shores and delved the halls of Dvaros. We do not forget. He turned his blind stare towards Brand once more. We curse his name for all that he has stolen from us. Home, wealth, and kin.


    If that is how your people feel, I would have expected to find Dwarves fighting the ounders even now, Brand said.


    Yes, one would think so. We have be withdrawn, a scattered people thinking always on the past and never the future, Gnupa admitted. But it could change. If news spread of victories against the Godking... perhaps we would finally awaken.


    Brand looked into the Dwarfs empty eyes. Thank you for your counsel, Master Gnupa.


    ~~~~


    When Brand opened the door to his chambers, he had to look down to find hispanions. The furniture had been chopped up for firewood, so they had taken seats on nkets ced on the floor in the manner of Alczar. Even from afar, lively conversation could be heard with retellings of the siege and all they had experienced. Despite what the merry mood could suggest, nothing but water was in their cups; every other beverage in the castle had been consumed long ago. ukos had already drunk more water in an hour than what he had received as his ration yesterday.


    Come, milord, have something to drink! Geberic urged him, filling a cup from a skin. This will taste sweeter than any wine from the rivends, I dare say.


    Brand found a seat on the floor between Jana and Geberic, epting the water from thetter. To you, he said, raising the cup as he looked around the circle. More steadfastpanions could not be found in all the realms and beyond.


    Hear, hear, they cheered, drinking as well.


    At the risk of turning the mood sombre, ric spoke a momentter, what will we do next? The inders are sure to wee us, no doubt, should we join their war. But as they depart already tomorrow, we ought to move swiftly to make our preparations.


    I will not force any to follow me, but I do not intend to stay in Thusund, Brand dered as all eyes became locked on him. I should hope that our efforts during the siege have earned us some good will. Enough to secure passage back to the maind.


    And then? asked ric.


    That is the question we must discuss, Brand said. Given what may lie ahead, I wish to know your thoughts. I will not ask any to follow me into danger with closed eyes.


    It has worked so far, Geberic remarked with a sly grin.


    Even so. Brand raised a hand to quell the amusement. I can think of different paths to take, and each has its own kind of hardships. Should any of you have concerns, I would rather they be voiced now thanter.


    What paths? asked Gwen.


    I can think of three options. We sail to Herbergja or Portesur and await news from allies, giving us a better idea of what we may aplish. Or, Brand continued, we continue directly to Hthiod. We join up with Sir William once more to resume the fight.


    Better to act than sit around and wait, ukos dered in his brusque fashion.


    I have no interest in war for its own sake, ric spoke, but I have spent enough time waiting in harbours for news.


    What is the third option, milord? asked Geberic.


    Brand exhaled, taking his time to reply. It does not suit me either to sit idle and wait, butst time, my presence in Hthiod caused an issue. The Order will not follow a knight whose spurs have been taken from him. More than that, the protracted war in Adalrik is costing soldiers and supplies that the Order needs in Hthiod.


    You sound as if you have a solution in mind, yet you hesitate to reveal it, Jana pointed out.


    I can think of only one way, yet it bears the highest risk, Brand admitted. The lord protector must be removed. Given his power, this would be exceedingly difficult. And failure would see us executed for high treason.


    Hispanions sat in silence, digesting the audacious proposal. How can this be done, my lord? ric finally asked. Middanhal must be swarming with troops.


    If we would even get that far, Geberic added.


    We would need help, Brand granted. From any friends or allies we might still have. It would require meticulous nning and wless execution. I have given some thought as to how it might be done. Conceivably. He hesitated. Needless to say, I would not me any for rejecting the risk.


    Around the circle, Brandspanions exchanged looks. A hignder, a kingthane, a greybeard, a former de, and a princess of Alczar. They had little inmon, yet together they sat on the floor in the keep of Dvaros, contemting a march on Middanhal without an army.


    I go where you go, Jana spoke atst.


    Im here because were kin, Gwen remarked.


    My oath to you has not changed, my lord, ric dered.


    I guess it cant be worse than the Reach, Geberic said.


    ukos shrugged. Why not? By my count, we should have died three times already. We might as well make it four.


    ~~~~


    Svana had remained in the courtyard, directing her people as they made preparations. The swift departure left matters hectic. The castle was in a sad state; not just the damages to the various gates and hallways, but much of the interior had been destroyed during the siege. Some had to be chosen to stay behind, overseeing repairs and garrisoning both castle and city in the queens absence. Beyond that, food from the arriving ships would have to be unloaded, else Dvaros might starve within days, but enough provisions had to be kept to allow the fleet to pursue Harald and Sven without dys. This and many other concerns upied the queen and her attendants as Brand approached.


    Seeing noblemen and courtiers swarming her, Brand kept his distance, waiting for a lull in the activities. When it happened, he quickly approached her before someone else could im her attention. Mydy queen, he spoke swiftly. May I speak with you briefly?


    Adalbrand Arnarson, she said, turning to face him with a smile. There will be room for you aboard my own ship. Given your valour during the siege, you have earned such a ce.


    I am honoured, Brand replied with a short bow. Yet I came to ask your indulgence.


    She raised her eyebrows. How so?


    My intention was always to sail to Herbergja. Now that the siege is over, I wish to resume that journey.


    You will leave? In the middle of war?


    I have another war to fight, Brand dered. Your battles will be fought at sea, mydy queen, where I have little knowledge to offer. I would be just another sword, and mydy queen has plenty of those.


    More than your sword, your presence would be wee, Svana said. With one hand on the pommel of the sword in her belt, she stood a warrior queen, beautiful and fearsome at the same moment. The daughter of Eirik Wyrmbane with the son of Sigvard Drakevin, she proimed, making heads turn towards her. They will be writing songs before we even set sail.


    And I should wish to hear them, Brand imed. But the eastern realms do not have the same strength as Thusund. My sword will not impact your victory already assured, but it might on the maind.


    Disappointing, she admitted, but I will not appear ungrateful to a man who fought for my crown, although he is not my subject. If that is your wish, find any ship in the harbour that is bound for Herbergja. Tell the captain that his queenmands him to bear you hence.


    You have my gratitude, mydy queen. Brand bowed, and the audience was at an end; already, other people moured for the monarchs attention.


    As Brand turned around, he almost ran into Jana, standing only a few steps behind him. I did not realise you had followed me.


    I came just now, wondering about the queens response.


    It was favourable, Brand reassured her. You had no need toe out simply for that  I would presently have returned to the chambers.


    Yourpanions are trading tales after many weeks of separation, Jana began to exin. My presence into their circle of familiarity felt like an intrusion.


    I am sure none of them thought so, Brand imed.


    I am sure they did not, Jana assented, but I did. She cleared her throat. The queen agreed to let us leave?


    Indeed. All around them, there was the constant bustle of servants moving supplies back and forth along with the mour of courtiers surrounding the queen. Let us seek elsewhere, Brand suggested, and Jana took his arm as they walked away.


    Rather than enter the keep, they crossed the yard to walk onto the fortifications. Given the multitude of people on the ground, none kept watch on the wall itself; they were alone, if not by sight, then at least by sound as the noise of the courtyard grew dim.


    Remember when we first walked here? Jana smiled as she made mention of the memory, though her expression quickly turned grave. It was only a few months ago, but it seems like years.


    Such long months with long days in the dark, and yet so much has happened, Brand considered. One king dead and another queen crowned. Countless skirmishes, a rebellion begun and, by my guess, soon to be ended.


    Jana shivered a little, whether from cold or emotions. I shall be d to leave this city and never set foot here again. The few happy moments I may have experienced are severely outnumbered by those of an unhappy nature.


    A moment passed before Brand spoke. You are determined to leave Dvaros, then?


    Jana nced up at him by her side as they walked. Of course. I dered as much already.


    I thought you might consider staying. As dreary as our experience has been so far, Dvaros is perhaps the safest city in the realms.


    Not if you have already invited the enemies inside your halls, Jana pointed out.


    Conceded, Brand said with a wry smile. But the rebels have been driven out, and I doubt Alczars fleet would dare a direct assault upon the city. The danger lies on the maind. If not from Alczar in the west, then the ounders in the east.


    My knowledge of warfare is limited, Jana admitted. If you say that war will note to Dvaros, but rather to the coast, I believe you. But it does not give me cause to reconsider.


    Brand ceased walking, and he spoke with lowered voice. You should. I am an exile. Once I cross the border into Adalrik, thew offers me no protection. And given my intentions, once I reach Middanhal, that samew will see us all executed for treason.


    Yet you did not seek to further dissuade your otherpanions, Jana remarked. You were swift to ept them joining you.


    They have followed me for years through many other dangers, Brand pointed out. If previous experience did not dissuade them, nothing will.


    Worse dangers than crossing the desert with scarcely any water? Worse than fleeing the gates of Alczar with my fathers soldiers in hot pursuit?


    I will grant you, those experiences rank highly where danger is concerned. Brand bit his lip. They are soldiers, and they understand that death is part of war. You are ady, Jana, and only here because of me. You should never have been involved in all of this.


    Yet I am, she replied with a firm voice. I have no interest in staying in Dvaros as an outcast, wondering each day if news will arrive of your execution. I tied my fate to yours the moment I passed through the orchard door of my fathers pce, Brand. For better or worse.


    He let out his breath. Very well.


    When do we leave?


    We have some time. There is little point trying to find a ship sailing to Herbergja while the queens fleet fills the harbour. Once they have sailed, we will find a vessel among those remaining.


    As you say.

 Chapter 185: Old Friendships and New Hostilities

    Chapter 185: Old Friendships and New Hostilities


    The Mihtea,rgest river in Adalmearc, flowed through Middanhal until it reached the sea in the west. Along the way, it passed by Fontaine, serving as the principal route between the two great cities. Ships passed in both directions, carrying goods and people in great numbers. Coldharbour was the eastern-most port avable, as further up-stream, the river disappeared under the Weolcan mountains; Herbergja at the rivers mouth was the western-most destination for the small vessels navigating the shallow waters.


    One such barge floated peacefully on the stream, approaching the capital of Ealond. As could be expected, traffic was heavy; the many guilds of Fontaine produced a vast quantity of goods to be ferried either east or west. A few vessels continued past the city, but most, including this barge, approached the port. It carried a variety of items. Salt from Hthiod, a perennial need. Wool from northern Adalrik to be turned into cloth by the weavers of Fontaine. Bronze from Middanhal to be made into statues or tools, dependent on the buyer  with coppering from Vidrevi and tin from Heohlond, the Dwarves of Middanhal were perfectly located for this trade and had long since perfected the art of creating the alloy.


    The barge also carried a handful of passengers, making the journey for their own reasons. Priests and priestesses of different colours, being sent from one temple to another ording to requirements. Young men, sent to Fontaine to take up apprenticeship. Women with children, sent for by their husbands to join them.


    The man snoring atop a bag of flour did not fit any of those descriptions. He wore no robe, but a leather tunic hardened to serve as cheap armour. A great sword rested by his waist,rge enough to be wielded by two hands. He had boarded the vessel in Coldharbour, paying for passage until Fontaine and demanding absolute peace from both the crew and other passengers. For the most part, his request was easily granted; his sullen countenance did not invitepany.


    Only the children aboard the barge could not help their curiosity towards his sword, set with a jewel in the pommel; while daggers and short des were not an unusual sight, a weapon such as his drew attention. Several attempts had been made by the children to steal it; given how the warrior spent most of his time, opportunities were ample. Yet even in sleep, he kept one hand on the hilt, either by coincidence or some instinct to be battle-ready.


    As the barge entered the harbour and touched against the pier, this finally changed. The small shock sent through the vessel made the warrior turn in his sleep, and his hand fell away from the hilt. While the crew moored the barge, a boy aged around twelve approached the sleeping man quickly, seizing the opportunity. His little fingers closed around the hilt and pulled out the sword.


    As he drew the weapon, the boy discovered that the de ended some inches below the hilt. Next, he dropped the sword and shrieked in surprise as the warriors hand shot out, grabbed the child by the cor, and flung him over the railing of the ship. Apanied by the sound of a body hitting the water, followed soon by a womans screams and frantic movement, Damien of Montmer rose from his coarse bed and returned his sword to its scabbard. While the crew hurried to fish the boy out of the water, the former knight disembarked and entered Fontaine.


    ~~~~


    Like nearly all of Adalmearc, Ealond had been touched by strife in recent years. Fontaine itself had been spared most of the consequences, though. The fighting had taken ce far from the city, allowing activities and trade to continue without interruption. Apart from some isted incidents, such as the execution of Duke Belvoir or disrobing of the Veiled Sister, Fontaine had not experienced upheaval aspared to cities like Middanhal or Tothmor. Robes of different colours, but above all the dark red of the norns, filled the streets along with hawkers of every kind. Crates and barrels were moved around the city to reach the countless workshops with their masters and apprentices, turning raw materials into finished goods. The impressive architecture championed by the guild of engineers continued to dominate and characterise the capital of Ealond, allowing ever higher towers and domes to rise.


    Damien pushed his way forward until the colours worn by the surrounding people turned more and more red; he approached the Raven Court, home to the priesthood of the norns. Entering the courtyard, he found scores of people crowding the sacred fountain, around which the temple was built. He nced around until he spotted guards, looking bored while leaning against the staffs serving as their weapon.


    What is this? Damien asked, gesturing towards the people. Did these people pay the tribute, or are they letting every fool in?


    The new Veiled Sister removed the tribute, one guard replied. Any idiot can walk in from the street and drink from the sacred fountain.


    And here is the result, Damien said before he began elbowing his way forward. Make way for a baron, peasants! he dered; while his words changed little, his elbows had more effect. Many an angry re was sent his way, but the sight of his sword kept people silent until he could stoop and drink from the sacred fountain, obtaining its blessing. Using the same coarse method as before, Damien got out of the crowd. He nced back, shaking his head while muttering under his breath, and left the temple again.


    ~~~~


    Rainier, king of Ealond, sat in his study. A booky in hisp, but it did not hold the kings attention. Instead, his eyes gazed out the window on the city beyond. His clothing and appearance were immacte as always, with his hair and beard neatly trimmed, but his eyes seemed sunken, and despite his young age, the first white hairs had appeared. He had only been king a few years, but he had already suffered his first significant defeat, leaving its mark upon him.


    The effect was even worse as it came shortly after his first major victory, and how the two were connected. Unravelling Gaspard of Belvoirs conspiracy and executing the duke had, for a while, strengthened the kings position as the undisputed ruler of thend. Until he had moved against Gaspards son, who had handily defeated Rainiers armies and denied any attempts to unseat him as the duke of Belvoir. Humiliated, the king had epted that the duchy of Belvoir remained in Alois hands, rather than risk an exhausting civil war he could not be certain to win. Ever since, none dared to utter the name of Belvoir in the kings presence, unless they desired exile.


    A servant appeared, clearing his throat to cautiously disturb his masters reverie. What is it, muttered the king.


    Master Guilbert has returned. You left instructions to give him immediate audience.


    I know that, came the swift rebuke. Send him in.


    Guilbert, once the envoy serving Gaspard of Belvoir and also his bastard half-brother, entered the study. Your Majesty. He gave an elegant bow.


    Your task?


    Sess, Your Majesty. I have witnesses and signed documents in abundance. Merchants, guildsmen, and even a captured bandit promised clemency, as long as he says what Your Majesty desires him to say.


    Good. Assemble the court this afternoon. Spring is upon us. I will not waste another day.


    Yes, Your Majesty. Guilbert gave a deep bow and disappeared.


    ~~~~


    Through the streets of Fontaine, Damiens path took him to the second of the great buildings in the city. The Order castle rose with imposing spires, able to hold a garrison of several thousand soldiers. As Damien approached, it was clear to see that the castle held far less. The walls had barely any sentinels, and only a couple of guards stood in front of the gate.


    Whats your business? asked one of them.


    I am Lord Damien of Montmer, he replied, and I was a knight back when your fathers boot first turned your face that way. He dug out a letter. The marshal has requested my presence.


    Scowling, the guard took the letter and skimmed through the brief note. Fine, he conceded, thrusting the paper back at Damien. On your way.


    The nobleman snatched the letter and strode past them. He entered the courtyard, watching a handful of pages practising weaponry. With a few mutteredments on their poor footwork, Damien continued past to enter the keep itself.


    He walked with certain steps up the floors until he could knock on the marshals door. Enter, came themand, and Damien did so. Inside, he found Sir Martel. The knight was an imposing sight, taller and stronger than most men with the asional scar across his dark skin. Damien of Montmer, he eximed with a smile, and the men embraced.


    I cannot recall how many years it has been, Damien admitted. I have memories of our time as pages together, and some from our days as squires, but none after that.


    We met once after that, if I remember right, Martel informed him. When you won the great tournament in Middanhal.


    Forgive me, I am sure we did, but given the celebrations, I remember little of that day.


    The marshal smiled, though his face quickly turned grave. My condolences on your father and brother.


    Thank you. Truth be told, I have given them little thought. But I was grieved to hear of your brothers death, Damien dered. He was the best of knights.


    Martels expression darkened briefly. He was. He looked away and beckoned towards a pair of chairs. Have a seat. You must be parched after your journey. Wine?


    Various emotions crossed Damiens face. Water for me.


    As you wish. Martel poured two cups and passed one along as they sat down. To the fallen.


    Damien raised his goblet. To the fallen. Honour shown to the dead, he ced the cup on the small table between them. As much as I am pleased to visit you, I do wonder. He pulled the marshals letter out. How did your missive know to find me in Middanhal, much less that I would pass this way?


    It was I who ensured it, Martel admitted. Once I heard about your father and brother, I took steps to see you restored.


    Damien frowned. I had not expected you to wield such influence over the Archon.


    I do not, but I asked the Veiled Sister to intercede on my behalf, and she did so.


    Been busy, that one, the nobleman mumbled. Why go to such trouble? It cannot be simply because we once trained together as pages.


    The marshal exhaled slowly. Things are not well in Ealond.


    I thought the war had already ended. The king lets Belvoir keep his title, and Belvoir lets the king keep his head. Barkingughter issued from Damien.


    I do not trust King Rainier, sad to say, Martel confessed. It is the Orders duty to quell an insurrection such as Duke Belvoirs, yet my forces were not marshalled. Once he lost the first battles, he would rather make peace with the duke than seek help from the Order.


    That does sound strange.


    I can see no other purpose but he wishes to keep us in weakened condition. Most of my troops have been sent east to Adalrik or Hthiod, and the royal treasury is slow to pay us the taxes we are owed, Martel revealed. I have no coin to train more soldiers, and the king is careful not to give me any reason to demand it.


    Letting him keep the taxes he collects on your behalf, Damien added. But you are the marshal. You should storm the pce, break down the doors to the treasury, and take the coin that is yours.


    I have no doubt you would so that in my ce, the marshal said dryly. I doubt spilling blood over silver will fortify my position against the king in the long run.


    That is your flour to grind, Damien spoke with a shrug, emptying his cup of water. Do not expect me to intervene. My days as a knight are done. I have a castle with a soft bed and woods nearby for hunting that awaits me.


    I expected as much. I only desired your return to have allies among the noblemen, Martel revealed. Lords who understand what the Order means. Who would set the peace of the realms over the kings ambitions, whatever they may be. Which reminds me The knight rose to open an armoire. He retrieved a great sword and returned to Damien, offering him the sheathed de. I had this made for you in anticipation of your arrival.


    I have a sword, the nobleman mumbled.


    Martel ced the great de in a precarious position on the small table between them. This one will actually serve you, should ite to fighting.


    I have no such intentions, Damien dered. I shall wield a spear if there are boars to hunt. For deer, the bow will serve. If I am cold, an axe may cut firewood to keep me warm. But a sword has no use except for war, and I do not intend to ever fight another battle.


    I do not think you will be given the luxury of choice.


    Damien licked his lips. I should be on my way. My n was to leave Fontaine before nightfall.


    I shall not keep you longer. The king is gathering his court today, and I intend to be there.


    He has summoned you?


    No, Martel admitted, which makes me all the more curious to attend.


    Damien rose, and the marshal did as well. It was good to see you. You shall always be wee at Montmer while I am lord of that spittle ofnd. They sped hands and exchanged a quick embrace in farewell. Hesitating for a moment, Damien finally took the sword from the table and left the room.


    ~~~~


    In the throne room at the pce, the courtiers stood assembled. Most were nobility from different parts of the realm or envoys sent to represent their families or masters at the royal court. None knew why the king had ordered them to gather; no dignitaries had arrived that might warrant an audience, nor had news reached of any great event, whether fortuitous or cmitous. Those with sharpest eyes had noticed the return of the kings personal servant, Guilbert from Belvoir, and those with keenest ears knew he had been originally dispatched to Herbergja.


    Once the courtiers had been left waiting long enough, Rainier appeared with Guilbert in tow. The king took his throne and let his gaze fall on the assembled court. As ruler of thisnd, it is my duty to look after my subjects. The predicted whispers arose as the courtiers wondered at the kings intentions. I never seek war for its own sake, but I must stand prepared to defend Ealond and all its people. rmed looks were exchanged at such words, invoking bloodshed. It hase to my attention that in the north-western corner of ournds, our people are not safe. The king gestured at Guilbert, standing at the feet of the throne.


    I hold in my hands sworn statement from half a dozen merchants, all osted by brigands on the road towards Herbergja, with nothing done to repay their losses or bring the bandits to justice. Guilbert held arge stack of parchment into the air. Besides that, I have brought witnesses to His Majestys court that can rte how our traders are cheated at the markets in Herbergja, how our guildsmen do not receive fair wages when selling their skills in that city, and worst of all, how robbers have acted with impunity against our poor travellers, safe from retribution!


    Witnesses were brought forward, telling their story to the court ording to the charges made by Guilbert. Tales of being cheated in various ways or how the lords of Herbergja had failed in their duties, providing protection on the roads to the city andpensating merchants for any robbery when that protection failed. Lastly, a brigand captured through great difficulty confessed to all of this, including how the inders had promised to allow their plundering to continue, as long as they only attacked traders from Ealond.


    Soon, the court was at an uproar with demands for justice. The king gave a thin smile, promising to meet this demand. From the back of the crowd, Sir Martel watched with a disturbed expression, and he swiftly left.


    ~~~~


    A cart rumbled out of Fontaine, leaving the city through one of several southern gates. The driver was a simple peddler, leaving with a variety of goods that he might sell to the many viges beyond the city. Leaning against a barrel with his feet over the edge of the cart, Damieny half-asleep.


    Youre really a baron? asked the peddler.


    I told you as much, mumbled the passenger with a drowsy voice.


    Ive never had a nobleman travelling in the back of my cart. Never even seen something like that.


    You are wee for this novel experience.


    Shouldnt you have your own carriage, and horses?


    I do.


    Then why arent you travelling with that?


    They are at Montmer. If I am to use them, I must first travel hence, Damien exined with annoyance cutting through the sleepy tone of his voice.


    The driver scratched the stubbles on his cheek. I suppose.


    The baron of Montmer gave a yawn and closed his eyes.

 Chapter 186: The Baron of Montmer

    Chapter 186: The Baron of Montmer


    A solitary figure trotted along the road that slithered through the small barony of Montmer. Approaching from the north, he reached the small castle town first, as the actual fortressy further south. Curiously, he had one sword by his waist and another slung over his shoulder. His clothes had dirt and dust, signalling a long journey, and neither his hair nor his beard had seenb or knife in a long time.


    The town had no walls, and the traveller simply strode through. Reaching the modest square in the centre, he stopped at the well to draw water and refresh himself. He nced around and saw a temple, built in stone unlike the wooden houses of the town. By the engravings, one could deduce the shrine was dedicated to Hamaring, though there was no sign of any whiterobes.


    You, child, the traveller said, as a girl of about fourteen years approached to draw water.


    Im not a child, she protested, throwing the bucket into the well.


    I could not care less, he continued. Who is the priest at the temple these days?


    Brother Pierre, she replied, pulling the bucket up. Who are you?


    You will find out soon enough, Damien mumbled. Is he at the castle?


    I guess so. He lives there when hes not at the temple. Whats it to you?


    That is my business. Is he a decent fellow, or does he only care about squeezing tribute?


    The girl looked at the stranger with suspicion and stopped drawing water. I wont answer unless you answer me.


    He returned her re. Fine. Answer me, and I will give you an answer in return.


    Hes not a bad sort, she dered. He teaches us our letters and numbers. People like him. Is he a friend of yours?


    I never met the man. What of the steward at the castle?


    I dont know, the girl shrugged hauling the bucket over the wall of the well. He doesnte to the town. Why do you care about him?


    I want to know if he is going to cheat me. Have your taxes increased since your lord died?


    Youll have to ask my pa, the girl admitted, but I dont think so. Are you going to trade with him?


    Gods no.


    Girl, hurry with that water, a brusque voice interjected. A man appeared in the doorway to one of the small houses, staring at the traveller with his two swords. The girl did as told, leaving the well with her bounty of water. Stretching his neck, Damien continued onwards to the castle.


    ~~~~


    A few miles from the small town, the keep at Montmer rose. It was about as small as it could be while still being considered a fortress, but the walls were in good repair, and towers rose to protect the gatehouse and various angles. The same could not necessarily be said for the sentinels; approaching, Damien spied only a few spears on the walls, and a single one guarded the entrance itself. As the traveller stepped into the gatehouse itself, atst the watcher became animated.


    State your business, the guard dered while giving Damien a disdainful look.


    Fetch the steward of the castle. Tell him his master has arrived. When his words spurred no action, Damiens expression turned hard. If you dy one more moment, I will have your head as my first act. Now go!


    Looking confused, and almost stumbling, the guard hurried away. Watching with contempt as he left, Damien walked inside the small courtyard. He looked around at the other people in the enclosure. Servants and workers ambled about, tending to various tasks with little vigour. A kitchen girl fed the chickens while an old man unloaded fruit from the back of a donkey. A guard leaned against the doors that led to the inner keep; his spear had the same restful pose.


    After a while, an elderly man came with hurried steps through those same doors. His clothing and hectic expression indicated his important positionpared to themon servants. He approached Damien, and after inspecting the ragged nobleman for a moment, he gave a bow. I am Henri, milord, steward of the castle. You are the baron, I take it.


    I am. So far, you seem to be the only man aware, Damien dered brusquely.


    Forgive the others, milord, they did not know your description.


    How did you?


    The marshal of Ealond sent a letter to expect a warrior with two swords, along with a few other  remarks to describe you, Henri exined. Given how few travellers we receive, his lordship could not be any other man.


    Fine. Have water for a bath brought to my chambers.


    Of course, milord. Allow me to take you, Henri said.


    I remember the way. I was born here.


    Very well, milord. A servant appeared, bearing a goblet of wine to offer the baron.


    No! Damien made a dismissive gesture. I will have nothing but water.


    The steward and servant exchanged confused looks. As you say, milord, Henri spoke slowly.


    In fact, sell all the wine in the castle.


    Sell it, milord?


    Every barrel and bottle. I will not have a single drop within the walls. Damien stalked off, leaving his confounded servants behind.


    ~~~~


    An hourter, with his masters immediate needs and demands seen to, the steward trotted through the castle to enter another chamber. It did not have the few luxuries afforded the lord of even a small keep, nor was it small and shared with others like the servants in their quarters. It was a modest room but with a busy desk full of parchments and books, while tools of different kindsy scattered about.


    The white-robed inhabitant sat on the chair, whittling a stick. He looked up as Henri entered. Well, this bear has turned into a ferret, the priest dered with brief dismay, throwing the half-carved stick away. He ced his knife on the desk and looked up at his guest. What has you in a fright?


    Hes arrived, the steward exined. The barons here.


    Thats good, isnt it? Brother Pierre suggested. If thends had been without lord much longer, our noble neighbours would have sent more than greedy eyes our way.


    Sure, sure, Henri conceded, a bad ruler is better than none at all.


    The whiterobe raised an eyebrow, still looking up from his seat. You think ill of him?


    No, no, I meant in general. Even so, the stewards expression was distraught. Given the description I received, I knew to expect a rough exterior. Whether his behaviour is equal to that, I cannot say yet. But.


    Yes?


    He told me to get rid of all the wine. All of it.


    Better that he dislikes drink than he is too fond of it, the priest dered. Besides, Im happy to help get rid of it, he addedughing. Really, Henri, that hardly seems a reason for concern.


    I suppose, the steward said, though he did not seem reassured.


    ~~~~


    The next morning, the steward knocked on the door to his masters bedroom. Milord, may I enter? Some manner of grunt issued from inside, and Henri cautiously opened the door. He found the baron sprawled across the bed, wearing barely any garments. Forgive me, milord, it is a few hours past sunrise, and I have matters to discuss with you.


    The baron rolled over to blink at his steward. What is amiss?


    Nothing as such, milord, but I thought I should exin the state of affairs to his lordship.


    Fine. Damien scratched himself on the back and filled a cup with water. How are the coffers?


    Empty, milord, I am sad to say. Your noble father, blessed be his memory, spent thest outfitting his soldiers for the kings army.


    A waste that turned out to be, Damien muttered, emptying his cup.


    Fortunately, taxes will soone in, and we will notck for provisions.


    The baron rose and began to get dressed. Good. Speaking of which, have half a days provisions packed for me, and have the best horse saddled.


    Milord?


    I need to get out from these walls, he mumbled. I intend to see mynds, he continued with a louder voice. Do not expect my return anytime soon. I will go hunting as well. I assume a bow can be found, or is the armoury as empty as the treasury?


    No, milord, stammered Henri, but I thought we would go through the books today. There are many matters that could use your attention. Decisions must be made about your serfs and the fields they are meant to till


    That is what I have you for, is it not? You have handled matters in my absence so far.


    Yes, milord, but I have dyed decisions in anticipation of your return, Henri exined.


    That was pointless, Damien remarked, pulling his boots on. Look, Harry, what is the point of paying you if I have to do all the work still?


    I havent been paid in a year, the steward mumbled quietly, quickly continuing. But milord, do you not intend to do anything?


    I intend to go hunting. Damien grabbed his cloak from the back of a chair and began beating the dust from it.


    Very well, milord, Henri conceded, coughing as a cloud of dust filled the room. I shall make the arrangements and have two guards ready to escort you.


    Are you mad? What would that aplish? The baron stared at his steward with disdain.


    To protect his lordship, Henri stuttered. And a nobleman of your rank is expected to be apanied


    I have seen the guards at this castle, Damien sneered. The only protection they could offer would be to dy my would-be assants for a few moments. And how much game do you imagine I will be able to hunt with two louts traipsing after me through the forest? He flung his cloak around his shoulders. Now get that horse ready!


    ~~~~


    Three dayster, the baron entered the gate of his castle again. This time, he rode rather than walked, and the guard hurried to stand upright with an anxious expression. Damien rode straight past him without even a nce, dismounted in the courtyard, and began removing the saddle. An aged man hurried out of the stables, almost stumbling on his old legs. Reaching both master and horse, the former threw the saddle into his arms. Struggling to stay upright, the old servant staggered back to the stable while the baron continued to groom his horse. He was nearly done by the time that the steward showed up, entering the courtyard with frantic movements.


    Milord, you have stable hands  that is, one stable hand  for such tasks, Henri dered with a pained expression.


    A good knight takes care of his horse himself, Damien replied brusquely. You cannot ride to war without knowing your mount is in good health.


    Of course, milord, the steward assented. He shifted his weight from leg to leg. And  how was his lordships hunt?


    Miserable. I got a few birds, that was all.


    If his lordship leaves them with me, I will make sure the kitchen prepares them, Henri suggested.


    I already ate them. If you want birds, Harold, you will have to hunt them yourself.


    I could not, milord. The forest and all its game belong to his lordship.


    Damien sent his steward a withering look. It was a jest.


    Most amusing, milord. Now, I am d to see his lordship returned


    I am sure. Where is your vaunted stable hand? Thisdy is ready to rest, Damien said, patting the horse affectionately.


    The steward gestured wildly at the old man, beckoning for him to approach. As I said, your return is fortunate, milord, as there are matters only his lordship may attend to. Matters above my station.


    Such as?


    Well, thends have been without a lord for about a year, milord, leaving none to grant the serfs their requests, Henri exined.


    What in Hels name would they request?


    After the war, several viges have empty holdings that serfs from your other viges would like to take charge of, for instance.


    Fine, let them. As long as they work thend, I could not care less about where they do it.


    I understand, milord, but there are many other supplicants. Several of your people seek to marry, for instance


    What?


    They ask your permission to marry, milord. Receiving a look of disbelief, Henri continued with cautious voice. Was his lordship not aware of this custom?


    I have spent most of my years outside of Ealond, Damien mumbled in defence. Starting now, all that nonsense is over. Consider thatw abolished.


    I beg your pardon, milord?


    Are you deaf? In fact, any such ridiculousw that leaves me beleaguered by peasants is hereby abolished, Damien proimed. Let the serfs do as they wish, as long as they work and pay their taxes. There, done. He strode into the castle, leaving a crestfallen steward behind.


    ~~~~


    The following morning, though not too early, the baron assembled his guards in the courtyard. This was swiftly done, as they numbered less than thirty. Although few, the group of soldiers seemed to contain an example of every type of man. Some were young, others old; some had beards, others were bald, some both or neither. One looked starved while another seemed well-fed; several had red noses, whereas a few looked unnaturally pale. Their expressions were as varied as their appearances, ranging from curious to cynical, nave to world-weary.


    Their lord spent a good while berating them about their posture, how they held their weapons, the state in which they kept said weapons and their armour, everything else rted to their upation as watchmen, and he also added a few choice remarks on their personal cleanliness.


    With this out of the way, Damienmanded the guards to exercise around the yard before sparring against each other, much the same way he had been trained as a page. He only allowed breaks for water, keeping the men sweating as noon approached.


    As all the guards were busy inside the yard, none stood by the gate. A farmer drove his cart into the yard, ncing around with a confused look. Noticing the neer, Damien barked a few instructions to his men and approached the farmer. What do you want? he asked brusquely.


    I am bringing taxes from my vige, good master, the man exined. As I do every year, but usually someone hails me at the gate.


    Address me ording to title, viin, Damienmanded in the same tone of voice as before. What do you bring?


    Asparagus, milord, the farmer replied, hesitating as he spoke the title. You are his lordship?


    Of course I am. Who else has a title in this forsaken spit ofnd? The barons face became twisted. I never liked asparagus.


    They are very good, milord, I promise. My wife makes the best soup in the vige with these.


    I cant imaginepetition is stiff, Damien snorted.


    Another cart rumbled into the courtyard, whose driver also seemed uncertain about the situation. So thats where the guards are, he remarked, letting his carte to a halt near the other one. Never seen them do so much work before!


    You may keep your remarks to yourself, Damien said sharply. If you disparage my men again, I will throw you from the walls.


    The farmers eyes widened, and he bowed his head. Of course, milord, begging your pardon many times.


    What are you here for? Why is my keep under invasion from all these peasants?


    Im delivering your share of the early harvest, milord. Beets. The second arrival pointed at the back of his cart, loaded with beets.


    Let me guess, your wife makes excellent soup from these poor excuses for a vegetable, Damien remarked.


    The driver looked from the baron to the other farmer. Does  does his lordship want my wife to make soup? At the castle?


    Before Damien could confirm or deny, Henri came running from inside the keep. Forgive me, milord, I will deal with this matter at once, the steward said, gasping for breath.


    Good! Damien eximed. I have old drunkards and young knaves that I must whip into shape, and these distractions do not help! Not to mention, these carts are getting in the way for the mens next run around the yard. Several groans could be heard from the soldiers.


    Of course, milord, we shall have them emptied at once. Henri gestured for the servants that had followed him into the yard. Brother Pierre also appeared, bearing parchment, ink, and quill. While the workers began unloading the carts, the whiterobe marked the amounts being hauled.


    Should I expect more wagons to overrun my courtyard?


    Only a few more, milord, but dont worry, the steward quickly spoke. It is only the spring vegetables. Come harvest time, when all the grain is brought in, well have many cartloads! He coughed and added a few words quietly. I hope.


    The baron scowled and reached one hand into the nearest cart, pulling out a beet. With vegetables? Grain? What am I to do with this?


    Milord, we eat it, the steward stammered.


    Why are the peasants not taxed in silver?


    We have always taxed their crops, milord. They rarely have coin, and its simpler to simply take a part of the harvest.


    So instead, I will have farmers and carts and Hel-spawned asparagus loitering around my castle, Damien sneered. I need silver, not carrots!


    I understand, milord, Henri mumbled.


    Come harvest, I will not have this spectacle, Damien dered while gesturing at the carts. Find out how much to tax them in silver.


    But milord, what will we eat if we dont get any crops from the farmers?


    Buy it! Damien roared. Pay the fools in coin, and theyll have silver to tax! He stormed away. The steward turned around as well, and all the servants suddenly hurried to continue their work.


    ~~~~


    In the evening, Henri barged into the whiterobes room. Did you hear? What his lordship told me to do?


    I was there, Pierre reminded him, looking up from his parchments.


    Hes mad, the steward muttered. How am I to figure out taxes for all the crops in the entire fief? By harvest time? It cannot be done, he moaned, pacing around the room.


    Be calm, Henri, the priest told him. Ill help you. Such matters of knowledge and arithmetic are our domain. Ill write my brothers in Fontaine. You would not be the first holding raising taxes in coins rather than crops.


    Henri ceased his frantic movements. Thanks. That will be a help.


    You know, it might not be a bad idea either.


    What is?


    The priest ced the tip of his quill over the inkwell, careful to avoid any spill. Paying the peasants in coin and taxing them in coin, it might help to increasemerce.


    What? How?


    Trade between goods is limiting, Pierre exined. But when everyone has coin to buy and sell, none are limited to only selling their goods to those desiring those particr goods.


    The steward stared at him. What are you on about?


    Look, the priest said with the same patient voice he used when teaching the children of the castle vige. Suppose a farmer grows a field of carrots and he needs wool. Many may wish to buy his carrots, but they can only pay him in other goods he has no need for. His only option is to find a shepherd with wool to sell, who wants carrots. It makes trade much more difficult.


    But, the steward interjected with a smug expression, any farmer will have a sheep of his own, even the serfs! He wont have any need to trade for wool.


    Fine, say he needs lumber to build a fence. Since the forest belongs to the baron, our farmer can only buy from him. And if the baron has no interest in vegetables? The farmer has no way to pay his lordship or buy the lumber he needs.


    He does seem to dislike vegetables, Henri admitted.


    But if everyone buys and sells with coin, there is no issue. The farmer can sell his carrots to any man and use the silver to buy timber from the baron.


    An expression of distaste ran across the stewards face. You tricked me into listening to one of your whiterobe lectures. He turned around and walked out of the room.


    Stagnation is death, Pierre called out after him, reciting a t of his order. The only path to improvement is change!

 Chapter 187: Fortress and Forest

    Chapter 187: Fortress and Forest


    Eventually, the castle settled into some manner of routine shaped around the new baron. Damien would take off for several days, hunting and riding. On his return, he would spend half his time sleeping, eating, taking long baths; the other half was spent barking orders at his guards, exercising them around the courtyard. This wouldst a few days before he left again, allowing the sentries room to breathe until his next return and the inevitable resumption of training.


    A month after his initial arrival, Damien had arrived home after yet another hunt. Hey in arge tub of hot water, soaking with a cup of elderflower drink and eyes closed. There was a soft knock. Enter, he replied with the growl of an old dog, raising his head.


    It is me, milord, Henri announced, entering. Is everything to his lordships satisfaction?


    Fine, Damien said. He drank from his cup and leaned back again, closing his eyes. This is good. Much better than in water. Are you sure it is not fermented? It tastes too good.


    I swear, milord. I will let your kitchen servants know of your pleasure.


    As long as they make more.


    If his lordship ever returns with any game from his hunts, the kitchen would be happy to cook it to his lordships preference.


    One eye opened to stare at the steward. You better not be making any insinuations, Holfast.


    I would never, milord. Also, I came to tell you that a visitor has arrived, asking for permission to be your guest at the castle.


    My guest? Such cheek! Does this look like an inn? It is one thing for vagrants to sleep in the stable, eating scraps from the kitchen, but I will not entertain them at my table!


    Not even a member of the clergy, milord?


    I already have one priest eating my food, Damien growled. If the good brother wants other robes here, they can sleep at his temple.


    Very well, milord, I shall let her know.


    Her? Not another whiterobe, then.


    Indeed not, milord, she follows Austre, by the colour of her garbs.


    A moment passed before Damiens eyes flew open and the cup fell from his hand. Green?


    Yes, milord, as all the priestesses of Austre.


    What is her name?


    Forgive me, she told me, but it was something strange. Northern, harsh. More like a mans name, really, Henri mused.


    Old fool, Damien mumbled. What is her age?


    I did not ask, milord, that would have been impertinent. Past twenty, but not yet thirty? I would wager so.


    The baron looked over the edge of his tub around his room. I need clothes. Tell her to wait in the entrance hall  no, how long until the evening meal?


    It should not be much longer, milord.


    Good. Tell her to wait for me in the great hall  no! Let me get dressed and go there first, and you can show her in. Bring her something to drink while she waits.


    Henri kept the confusion on his face from appearing in his voice. Very good, milord. He disappeared while Damien hurried up and began rummaging through his garments, dripping water on the floor.


    ~~~~


    A whileter, the baron sat in his chair in the great hall, named so for beingrger than the entrance hall and thus being slightly more impressive in size and appearance  the keep had no other halls. As the steward opened the doors, he entered first before gesturing at the young priestess that followed. Gunvor from Hareik, milord, a priestess of the order of the Hart.


    Smiling, Gunvor approached and bowed her head. My lord baron.


    Gunvor, Damien eximed, quickly rising from his seat. He cleared his throat. Wee to my halls.


    Thank you. Yournds are pleasant. I saw that as I travelled through them.


    You are too kind. He nced around as if it took him a moment to see Henri standing by her side. Have the food brought in.


    Yes, milord. The steward pped his hands while the baron sat down again. With the lord of the castle seated, hispanions at the table followed suit. One steward and one whiterobe as usual, this night joined by a greenrobe.


    While the servants brought in food, Damien poured into Gunvors cup. Elderflower drink, he told her. Not fermented, he quickly added. Only thing around here with decent taste.


    His lordship seems wise, Gunvor remarked. On my way, I heard themon people praise your benevolent rule, removing oldws thaty like a yoke on them.


    I try, Damien mumbled, looking down at the table. It is my duty.


    It is unusual to see a sister of Austre this far south, the whiterobe interjected, looking at Gunvor. What brings you to our home?


    Yes, what happened after I left Middanhal? Damien asked, causing Henri and Pierre to exchange looks.


    I stayed over winter to nt and nurture the seeds I brought from Hareik, Gunvor exined. I was tasked by my gydja to bring rare herbs to the great Temple in Middanhal, she added, aimed at the other two. Lord Damien escorted me on the journey, providing me with safety.


    An apt choice, Henri remarked.


    When spring came and the seeds sprouted, the priestess at the Temple was so pleased, she gave me leave to choose any assignment I wished, Gunvor borated. So I asked permission to travel south and establish a new temple to Austre.


    Pierre coughed violently as if a garrotte had been tightened around his throat. Here? he wheezed.


    That  that was my thought. Are you ill, good brother? she asked concerned.


    I think that is a marvellous idea, Damien considered. I greatly enjoy the forests here, and with a greenrobes touch, they might flourish even more. What would you need?


    My sisters in Fontaine should be able to supply craftsmen, Gunvor said, trained to build without nails or iron. I would only require suitable timber from the forest itself. And the right clearing to build the shrine, of course.


    Perhaps we should ride out tomorrow, Damien suggested, sounding almost shy. I will bring my bow for a bit of hunting, and you can find your clearing.


    That sounds excellent, milord, the greenrobe dered with a happy expression. Opposite her, the steward sat with a beaming smile while the priest looked like his meal contained hemlock.


    ~~~~


    After the meal, Henri retired to his chamber, attending to his other duties as steward. The changes in taxation demanded by the baron kept Henri upied most avable hours as he went through the ledgers of the fief. He had only resumed this task when the door opened wide, revealing Pierre.


    Something ails you?


    The whiterobe strode into the room. Did you not see the same as me? At the meal, he rified.


    Indeed, extraordinary, Henri eximed. I would scarcely have believed it, except it happened in front of my own eyes.


    Most concerning!


    Yes, its  what? Why?


    The priest waved his hands about in despair. This greenrobe, appearing out of nowhere, to ensnare the mind of our hapless lord!


    Henri frowned, staring at Pierre. What are you on about?


    You said you saw it yourself!


    What I saw, the steward exined patiently, was our bellicose baron turned gentle as amb, thanks to the greenrobes presence.


    The priest froze his frantic hand movements. You think she is a sorceress? She has bewitched Lord Damien, cast a spell on him!


    Henris expression turned to disappointment. The only sorcery is the fact that our baron is a man, and the greenrobe is a woman. I know youre a priest, Pierre, but even you must be aware of how such matters work.


    But why would shee here? Pierre asked with suspicion in his voice.


    You heard her  she knows the baron.


    That entitles her to a visit, perhaps, but building a temple? When there is no need or reason for it?


    A sly smile appeared on the stewards face. So thats the berry you find sour. You dont like the thought ofpetition.


    Pierre huffed. Its not that. Im worried what shell do. Ive spent my life teaching the townspeople. For two hundred years, my predecessors have carved the temple to Hamaring. And now, theyre supposed to stroll around the forest, praying to the trees?


    For a moment, Henri looked worried. I see your concern. But, he continued, and a smile dawned on his face. Stagnation is death. Change is the only path to improvement.


    The whiterobe spluttered an iprehensible reply and stormed off.


    ~~~~


    The next day, two horses rather than the usual one departed the castle. They bore their riders to the nearby forest in the early blossoms of spring. They passed through trees of oak, elm, and ash, asionally observed by curious foxes or cautious squirrels. When they reached a de that allowed sunlight to reach them, they dismounted.


    After tying the reins of their mounts to the nearest branch, Gunvor paced around the clearing, counting steps. It should be more thanrge enough, she told Damien. I dont intend for any grand structure, after all.


    Sounds wise, or you would end up with a temple bigger than my castle, heughed.


    The priestess looked around at the de. This is a good ce. Our presence will not disturb the forest. And it will offer tranquillity for all in need of such.


    All, you say? Even old scoundrels and new barons?


    Especially those. I hear youre already fond of travelling into the forest. That sounds like a man who knows the necessity of such a ce.


    Truth be told, I find my new role difficult. Most of my life, I have lived in camps and slept in tents, feeling no different from anymon soldier. At times, it feels like the castle walls are not there to protect me, but imprison me. Damien ran his hand through a branch, pulling off some leaves and tearing them into pieces, looking down rather than at Gunvor.


    I wondered at that. Especially since I am told you go hunting, but you never return with game.


    Damn servants, Damien swore. They talk too much. Though I cannot say if I would rather they knew the truth. He finally looked up at the priestess, holding one hand in front of him. They do not shake like they once did, but they are unsteady. No use for shooting a bow with uracy.


    I am sorry, she said with a genuine voice. Some things cannot be changed.


    At least I can swing a sword the same.


    You are not hindered in that regard?


    He shook his head. Fighting is blood and instinct. In the heat of battle, my hand knows what to do. But hunting is patience and precision.


    That, at least, is a matter known to me as a servant of the Huntress.


    Damien let out his barkingughter. True. So there you have it. I go to the woods and throw my arrows away, pretending I have been hunting rather than risk the attempt. It seemed too likely that I would maim the animal without killing it, forcing a slow death upon it.


    I shall keep your secret, Gunvor promised with a smile.


    Good. Do not give Hamish any satisfaction.


    Who?


    My steward.


    Gunvor frowned for a moment before she pped Damiens arm. His name is Henry, or how did he say it? Henri. In any case, its not even close to what you said.


    Damien gave a sly smile. But his face twitches every time I call him something new, yet he dares not correct me. In lieu of a court jester, I must make my own jests, he dered, to which sheughed. As the de became quiet again, he cleared his throat. If you are to build a shrine here, does that mean you will stay out here as well? Rather than at the castle.


    Certainly at times, I must, the priestess replied. When rituals or the like require it.


    But not all the time?


    That would not be necessary, no.


    You would be wee to stay at the castle, in that case. When your duties permit it.


    I should be happy to receive your hospitality, my lord baron.


    Good. Good.


    And perhaps, she continued slowly, since you are so fond of hunting, you might make your trips to the forest when my duties demand my presence here.


    That would be most agreeable to me.


    Im d.


    Damien took a deep breath. I am starving. Let us see what the kitchens prepared for us, he suggested, walking over to open his saddle bags.


    ~~~~


    In the evening, the baron and his guest returned to the castle. While the old stable hand took their horses, a servant appeared to offer something to drink. Soon after, Henri also entered the courtyard, waving a letter in his hand. This arrived for you today, milord.


    Leave it in my chamber, Damien told him with a dismissive voice and turned towards Gunvor. Where was I? Right, the siege of Tricaster.


    It bears the kings seal, milord, Henri interjected, tripping with nervous energy.


    Growling, Damien reached out to tear the letter from the steward, and he broke the seal to read the content. A cloud passed over his face.


    What is it? asked Gunvor.


    The king bids me raise my levies and join him for war, Damien exhaled. Every servant within earshot raised their heads, looking at their lord.


    Oh dear, Henri eximed. Not again.


    Make the arrangements, the baronmanded. Gather every oaf who can hold a spear.


    Yes, milord.


    Gods willing, we will be home before the harvest.


    ~~~~


    The next day, Damien went to the castle smithy. It was little more than a small room with the most basic necessities for forging, along with a smith more often tasked with making horseshoes than weaponry. As the baron strode into the room, carrying a great sword in each hand, the smith looked up from his anvil and the nails he had been making. Milord, he mumbled, bowing his head.


    I need you to perform a task for me. Damien ced his swords on the workbench in the forge.


    I can sharpen your des well enough, milord, the smith said, if thats what you need.


    No. This is my old sword, Damien exined, pointing at the sword that had served him as a Temr. I cannot use it in battle. I will bring this instead. He gestured at the new sword, gifted by the marshal. I want you to remove the jewel in the pommel from the old one and insert it into the new.


    The smith walked over to investigate the hilts, including the sapphire set into the Temr sword. It will take me a while, milord, to adjust the pommel and allow room for the stone.


    As long as you get it done. But be careful, Damien growled. That gem is blessed by the Highfather.


    Yes, milord.


    ~~~~


    I have sent the summons, milord, Henri informed his master. Your levies should arrive within the next handful of days. Of course, it will not be as many as your father brought to the kings warst year. The steward coughed demonstratively. Not everyone returned.


    Fine. I n to do as little in this war as possible, in any case. Damien stood investigating his armour, which was an old suit of mail that once had belonged to his brother. Some of the rings were missing, but all in all, it still offered good protection.


    As could be expected, Henri mumbled. Will his lordship bring the guards?


    And who will protect my castle in my absence? Do not be foolish.


    Very good, milord. That will be a relief to the servants, knowing they remain behind.


    After all the trouble I have had, training them to be even slightly capable in a fight, I am not letting them all die on some battlefield, Damien remarked brusquely. Though I will need a sergeant. There is the old fellow with the scars on his face, he must have seen a skirmish or two.


    I think thats from his wife, milord, Henri considered. He angered her one too many times, and she came at him with a knife.


    Then he has already faced a greater foe than anything on the field, the baron dered serenely. Tell him of the honour bestowed on him and his new duties.


    I shall, milord. Anything else?


    Any shrine to Rihimil in this gods-forsakennd?


    Not to my knowledge, milord. I shall ask Brother Pierre.


    ~~~~


    It took about a week to assemble the levies from around the holding. A hundred men or so, armed with old weapons inherited or scavenged, gathered at the keep. A horse stood saddled and waited for the lord of thend, as did all the servants, waiting to bid their master farewell.


    Damien appeared in armour with a great sword by his side; a sapphire sat in the pommel. He gave curt nods to Henri and the other servants and approached Gunvor. She gave him a half-hearted smile. I didnt expect us to partpany so soon again.


    This whole war is nonsense, Damien imed. Some misunderstanding with the inders. It will be quickly sorted.


    I hope so. She bit her lip. Make sure youe back.


    I promise. A sly smile appeared on his face. And Damien of Montmer always keeps his promises.


    Something that resembled chokedughter issued from the priestess. She stood uneasy, extending her arms towards the baron before pulling back, finally settling on gripping his hands. He returned the grasp, and no further words were exchanged. Separating, Damien swung into the saddle of his steed and set the horse into motion; his band of soldiers followed their lord, marching out.

 Chapter 188: Last Shelter

    Chapter 188: Last Shelter


    Activity in the great harbour of Herbergja followed the seasons. The mild summer months saw countless ships arrive and depart, carrying out trade between the innernds and the South Cities. As the harvest months approached,merce slowed to a trickle before being choked by winter storms. During the cold season, only a handful of vessels would enter or leave on shorter trips; either they conducted the simple trade still possible and needed during this time, or else they carried out military tasks such as patrolling the Eylonde Sea. Once winter came to an end, activity would blossom once more.


    This year, spring had the same effect as always on the harbour, yet for another reason. Although the warehouses overflowed with goods meant for the South and beyond, none were being loaded onto ships. Any merchant vessel braving that journey could expect to be boarded by Alczars fleet and the cargo confiscated. There would be no trade this spring, except what those most daring might smuggle through the Teeth, and that would not be done from Herbergja, but from Portesur further south.


    Instead, transports carrying soldiers and provisions filled the piers. With many ships unable to set sail for Alczar, the marshal of Thusund had ample opportunities for pressing these vessels into service, and thest weeks had seen the departure of numerous ships for Fortnn or Dvaros. Most were empty upon return, though one transport proved an exception as six passengers disembarked alongside the crew. Their strange appearance, revealing them to be a disparate band, raised questions among the dockworkers, which the sailors were happy to answer; the passengers were none other than Adalbrand Arnarson and his most ardent followers, returned to the Seven Realms.


    Passing through the crowds, Brand and hispanions left the harbour to enter the city itself. The streets were nearly as busy as the port, thanks to the great size of Herbergja. People from all over Adalmearc and beyond lived here; different colours were seen, and different tongues could be heard.


    If any building could be said to dominate Herbergja, it was the great keep. No rulers had built pces here, nor was the city the principal home to any of the priesthoods. While the silrobes held sway, both because Herbergjay in Thusund and because sailors and traders prayed to Disfara, their temple was modestpared to the Raven Court in Fontaine or the Temple of the Alfather in Middanhal. But the Order always kept a strong garrison in the city, guarding it against aggression overnd from Ealond or over sea from the South Cities.


    It was this great fortress that Brand steered towards, though he halted while its towers still rose in the distance. He took a heavy purse of silver, a parting gift from Svana, and gave it to Geberic. You know what we need. He nced at ukos. We will meet you afterwards. The men nodded, and the band split into two; Brand and Jana continued towards the keep while the rest disappeared down another street.


    The castle saw as much activity as the harbour did. Bands of infantry left on patrol, keeping order in the city or keeping watch of the area beyond the walls; other groups trained in the courtyard, transforming from raw recruits into disciplined soldiers. Archers, who learnt their craft hunting small birds in the isles where food was always scarce, kept their skills sharp as well.


    I almost miss Nichs and even Quentin, Brand remarked as they stood by the gate, peering inside.


    Who? asked Jana.


    Two of the sharpest bowmen I have ever met, he exined as a guard approached them.


    Whats your business here? asked the soldier.


    I am Adalbrand Arnarson, came the answer. Your marshal will want to speak with me.


    By his side, as another train of soldiers passed through the gate and left the castle, Jana took his arm to steady herself. The guard nced at them both, back and forth. Wait here.


    ~~~~


    Under the leadership of Geberic, the remainingpanions marched through Herbergja. Eventually, ukos emitted a groan.


    What troubles you? asked ric.


    I know where he is leading us, ukos muttered. We have preparations to make!


    We also need to eat, dont we, the greybeard dered undisturbed.


    Every week we stayed in Herbergja, waiting for news of the captain, Geberic spent all his time in one ce, ukos added in exnation to ric.


    Not all my time! came the objection. Besides, so did you.


    Because I worked there, growled the heathman. I earned honest silver keeping peace and breaking heads to that pursuit.


    A long-winded way of saying you spent as much time in that tavern as me, Geberic dered. He was rewarded with another groan.


    Something to eat and drink would not be out of ce, ric considered. We all have long journeys ahead of us.


    You must be starving, Geberic said to Gwen. After all, anytime something went down our stomach on the ship, it also came up again! Heughed coarsely.


    Gwen scowled at him, though her expression soon cleared. Something to eat would be good, she admitted. Now that the ground is standing still, like the gods intended it to be.


    The band eventually reached a tavern that looked much the same as the others crowded around the harbour, offering their services to sailors thirsty from long days at sea. Here we are, Geberic dered with satisfaction. The best ale in Herbergja, I promise you.


    It tastes like rainwater, same as all the others, ukos imed.


    Better than seawater, ric pointed out.


    Enough yapping, lets get in, Geberic demanded. The others followed him inside and took a table while the greybeard negotiated for food and ale with the proprietor. She seemed reluctant, demanding silver in hand before serving anything; Geberic, wielding a hefty pouch, paid her speedily. Unfriendly eyes around the room followed him and his bag of coin as he sat down with the others; seeing his heavily armedpanions, those eyes quickly looked elsewhere. Soon after, tankards of beer and bowls of hot soup reached their table.


    To your health, Geberic smiled, raising his cup.


    And yours, replied ukos.


    And the captains, ric added.


    Each of them took a heavy draught and returned the tankards to the table with various amounts of force and exmations of satisfaction.


    While the others shovelled soup with vigour, Gwen seemed less interested in her food. What do you all think of that woman that my cousin suddenly showed up with? Jana, that is.


    The three men looked at each other, some with a spoon sticking out of their mouth. That is the captains decision, ric remarked with a shrug. It has no bearing on me.


    I just find it odd, Gwen continued. He leaves all of us behind, travelling to Alczar, saying wed stick out and only ruin his disguise. Then he shows up with a woman in tow that none of us have ever heard about. Doesnt it strike you as strange?


    To be fair, she doesnt stick out in Alczar the way we would, Geberic pointed out with augh. The captain has his reasons for trusting her, and from what Ive been told, those are good reasons.


    Im just concerned, I suppose, the hignder woman said. Were walking into the dragons den. The four of us, weve been to the Reach and back with the captain. Meanwhile, her father is attacking the realms. She doesnt strike me as one of us.


    We are all exiles at this table, ukos suddenly interjected. Ouws following an ouw, all for our own reasons. So is she, an exile. And a damn good seamstress, judging by her stitches, he added, prompting a grunt in acknowledgment from Geberic. I would say she fits in.


    I just think she might be a sign of trouble, Gwen mumbled, grabbing her spoon to start eating.


    In that case, she certainly belongs with us, Geberic said before turning his head into the room and raising his voice. More ale, please!


    ~~~~


    Brand and Jana was kept waiting a while at the castle gate before the guard returned and bid them enter. He did not escort them, but simply gave instructions on how to reach the marshal. The pair continued on their own, crossing the courtyard to many sounds; weapon masters shouted instructions, spears shed with shields, smiths struck hammer against anvil, and arrows flew through the air.


    The noise grew distant as they entered the keep itself. With most of the soldiers outside, either training or on patrol, the two visitors mostly encountered servants in the corridors. They made their way up to the higher floor, following the initial directions until they could knock on the door to the marshals study.


    Enter.


    They did, finding the knight seated behind a desk. He appeared slim and sinewy, wearing armour and the surcoat of the Order and had the blue eyes and brown hairmon among inders. As he looked up at his guests, Brand inclined his head. I am Adalbrand Arnarson, he introduced himself, and mypanion is Lady Jana of Alczar.


    The marshal motioned towards the other chairs in the room. While they sat down, he lifted a piece of parchment from his desk. I was reading this again when I heard of your presence. An old letter sent from Sir Hkon at Fortnn, mentioning you both. Yet from the contents, it is clear you were meant to arrive along with the letter, not a monthter.


    We were dyed, Brand admitted. Our ship took us to Dvaros, and subsequent events left us trapped in the city. That is why we came, in fact, he added. Besides giving a bted report on matters in Alczar, I thought you might wee being informed on what happened in Dvaros.


    A strange tale this letter told, the knight said, waving the parchment in his hand. Yet I have no reason to doubt Sir Hkon, especially as I see thedy with you exactly as described. Jana shifted in her seat, but said nothing. While I wee knowledge of Dvaros, I think Sir Hkons letter has already told me all I need to know about Alczar.


    As you prefer, Sir Asger, Brand acquiesced. How is the situation at Fortnn? Are they prepared?


    The marshal scratched his full beard. As best we can. He took another piece of parchment from his desk. This arrived the other day on thest ship from Fortnn. The fleet of Alczar has been seen. By now, they will havended.


    Gods keep them safe, Brand dered. Sir Hkon is a good man.


    He is, and a good knight.


    Any hope you might send him relief?


    Asger nced out the window of his study, overlooking the city. Not if word from Fontaine is true. Sir Martel has sent warning that King Rainier is gathering his forces.


    Shock came over Brands face, while Jana had an obvious question on hers. He cannot be so reckless! he eximed. Does he think Alczar will leave Ealond untouched, should Thusund fall?


    I doubt the king has considered that far, Asger said. He sees an opportunity for quick gain, and I must prepare to defend this city from southerners and rivermen alike. He gave Brand a scrutinising look. I could use the Dragonheart in such circumstances.


    Brand nced at Jana. As you think best, she told him quietly.


    I am needed elsewhere, he said at length.


    I admit disappointment, the marshal spoke. But the same deeds that make me seek your aid also tell me to trust in your decision. Asger exhaled. Tell me of Dvaros.


    His guests looked at each other and began recounting their time on the isle of Eldrey.


    ~~~~


    As the day began to wane, Brand and Jana made their way across Herbergja to reach one of the southern gates. They kept their hoods up and faces down, moving through the crowds. Once through the gate, they walked for a little while until they spotted ukos and Gwen. Thetter stood by a cart filled with hay; ukos was feeding an apple to the horse harnessed to the wagon. Neither had weapons by their side.


    Are Geberic and ric underway? asked Brand as they approached. He removed his sword from his belt, cing it under the hay in the cart with their other des.


    Sailing down the river as we speak. Geberic will have no trouble reaching Middanhal before us, but it will be a tight run for ric to reach Hthiod and return, ukos said. He extended a hand to help Jana step up into the back of the wagon.


    We will have to wait, I suppose. Brand followed Jana, positioning himself to have his hand near his hidden sword.


    We may stay hidden a while, keeping to the roads rather than the river, ukos remarked, but once we enter Adalrik His voice trailed off before he spoke again. Sooner orter, someone will recognise us.


    We will pray ric returns before that, Brand simply said. Let us go.


    ukos took seat in front of the cart, grabbing the reins. Gwen stepped up to sit next to him, and he set the horse into motion.

 Chapter 189: The Breaking of Teeth

    Chapter 189: The Breaking of Teeth


    At all times, the Order kept watch from the highest tower on Fortnn towards southwest. As the sails appeared on the horizon, the message was sent through the keep; the enemy had been sighted. Thest ships able to leave fled the harbour, carrying children, women, and any not needed for the defence of the ind. Soldiers remained along with certain craftsmen, such as smiths, fletchers, and masons. The rest were sent away, both for their own protection and to help the garrisons provisionsst longer, should ite to a lengthy siege.


    Sir Hkon inspected the fortifications one final time. The harbour had to be abandoned,cking any kind of defences; yet ity within the reach of the stone thrower atop the gatehouse, allowing great rocks to be hurled at enemy ships mooring by the piers.


    A few vessels still remained, having ferried supplies and soldiers to the ind, who would remain; none had need of these boats anymore. Strong hands grabbed axes, preparing to sink the ships rather than allow them to be seized by the enemy. Struck in the right ce, repairs would be futile, and they would have no future other than as firewood. But first, they would serve onest purpose.


    The sailors rowed their boats a short distance from the piers, spreading them across the entrance to the harbour. Using their axes, they splintered the bow before hacking holes in the stern. The boats sank with the jagged bows protruding, acting as artificial reefs, turning the harbour into hostile waters for ships of Alczar.


    Their taskplete, the sailors swam ashore. All looked grim; they had destroyed their own livelihood, sent it to the seafloor, and the reason for this desperate act swiftly approached.


    Inside, the fletchers worked all waking hours to make arrows. Thusund had excellent archers to rival the hunters of Vidrevi or the longbowmen of Hthiod; on inds scarce on food, hitting small birds in flight with an arrow meant surviving winters that imed the hungry. But few had found their way to Fortnn, and each tower on the keep could only be manned by two or three archers each.


    The smiths repaired armours, ensuring each ring of every chain shirt was strong. The masons hewed stone into smaller pieces, making them easy to haul and stack. Should the walls be breached, swiftly mending such a gap would be the only thing preventing the keep from being overrun.


    Water was scarce, as the only source on the indy elsewhere; once the siege began, rainwater would be the only way the garrison could replenish this precious resource. As it stood, they had enough for two weeks, should not a drop fall from the sky; whether Alczar would allow the siege to continue for that long was another matter.


    ~~~~


    As the hours passed, the sails on the horizon multiplied until they seemed to number in the hundreds. They steered clear of the western coast, too close to the castle walls. Instead, while part of the fleet rounded the ind to approach from the north, the rest remained anchored south of the ind. Scores of boats were lowered into the water, and with quick strokes of the oars, the soldiers of Alczar madendfall. The first wave of warriors set up a strong guard, waiting as the boats returned to the ships to retrieve more of therades. Once the second wavended, patrols were dispatched to seize control of every part of the ind beyond the castle. With the third wave came the equipment needed for the siege, and the soldiers set to work assembling it all.


    While the men of Alczar set foot on Fortnn unopposed on the southern shore, the story yed out differently to the north, where the harboury. Standing on the gatehouse, Sir Hkon watched the ships approach. As the first vessel reached the pier, he gave a gruff order, and the soldiers by his side released the catapult. The arm flew up, hurling a rock through the air to strike the ship on the side. It did not break the hull, but the wood groaned and crack where struck.


    The Order soldiers turned the levers of the stone thrower, twisting its arm down. The sailors on the ship abandoned their attempts to moor and raised the sails again, catching the wind to get away. The next stone fell short, hitting the water where the ship had been. Making its escape, the vessel struck the sunken boats in the harbour. Rather than make further manoeuvres, the ship made anchor while the Order soldiers cheered, seeing the enemy denied. Their joy proved short-lived; as the ships of Alczar lying south of the ind had done, the fleetunched its boats tond troops beyond the range of the stone thrower. From their walls, the defenders could do nothing but watch.


    ~~~~


    Nothing further happened on the first day, allowing for an anxious night inside the castle. Guards stood everywhere, scouting towards the encampment that nowy spread across the ind, amodating thousands. Scattered fires burned to aid their own sentinels, in case the garrison should dare a sortie. Activity was scarce. Unlike the Order soldiers, fearful of what was toe, the mercenaries slept soundly. It was their first night on solid ground andst night before battle; they knew to get as much rest as possible.


    The following morning, the siege engineers swiftlypleted theirst tasks. All the needed timber for their construction had already been prepared and brought along from Alczar, allowing for swift assembly. On the eastern part of the isle, the southrons pushed stone throwers forward with greater range and strength than the single one defending the gatehouse. The bombardment began. Rocks rained down on the defenders, forcing them to hide behind shields and crions or seek refuge inside the towers.


    While the catapults were useful to harass the Order soldiers, they could do little against the sturdy walls. The engineers had discussed battering rams, but the defending stone thrower could, if used well, destroy any rams aimed at the gate. Attacking the wall itself, out of the reach of the enemy catapult, would take many days if not longer to cause a breach. As for siege towers, the rocky terrain would make it difficult to push it all the way up to the fortress. In the end, the engineers presented their conclusions to Prince Saif, leader of Alczars armies, and he agreed with their assessment. The castle would have to be taken by stormdders.


    Against a fully manned garrison, this strategy of attack would carry higher cost than any other, but it had the clear advantage of speed. Within a few hours, scores ofdders had been assembled and ready for assault, all the while the stone throwers continued tounch their munition against the defenders.


    ~~~~


    Sir, they advance! The call came from a tower, shouted down into the courtyard.


    Hkon, knight captain of Fortnn, turned to yell over his shoulder. To the walls! His message passed through the gate into the keep, where it was repeated. Half the soldiers inside, about a hundred men, responded and joined him in the courtyard; the remainder dispersed throughout the castle, taking up position elsewhere.


    Raising their shields to protect themselves against the enemy stone throwers, the soldiers filled the walls. Atop the towers, the archers readied their arrows and shouted what they saw; thousands of soldiers beginning the assault.


    The air became filled with missiles from both sides, raining down on the fortifications and the opennd bing a battlefield. Every inder able to aim a bow had work, emptying the barrels of arrows ced on each tower. Likewise, the archers among the southern mercenaries ran close enough to barrage the defenders; few would fall, but forcing the Order soldiers to hide behind their shields gave the other attackers room to reach the walls and begin raising the siegedders.


    As this happened, the catapults became silent rather than risk striking their own, still leaving the archers to harass the defenders. The Order soldiers, expecting this, worked together; one man kept the shield up to protect himself and the next man, who hurled stones over the wall, crushing helmets and heads of the soldiers on the ground.


    Scores ofdders struck against the walls, biting over the stonework. As cries rose into the air, born of battle and death, the mercenaries ascended, often losing their life for coin. But for every attacker struck down, two reached the top. The archers in the towers changed aim, shooting down at the fortifications rather than the ground in a desperate attempt to push the tide back. Every Order soldier not yet engaged ran towards the points of infiltration, which only left gaps elsewhere.


    The bodies filled the walls until they were pushed down, falling into the courtyard. All along the outer defences, southrons overwhelmed the Order soldiers. In their bright colours, denoting the mercenarypanies they served, they extinguished the pockets of ck surcoats one by one.


    Sir Hkon, his de dripping with blood, retreated into the nearest tower. He rushed up the stairs to reach the top. The archers did not notice his appearance, consumed by their task. The knight moved to the edge of the tower, standing beside them to see what they saw. The outer walls were lost.


    Retreat! yelled the knight. He pushed his shield into the archer on his left and the pommel of his sword into the other right. Fall back! Shooting their final arrow, the bowmen grabbed theirrades and followed theirmander down the tower. Across the fortifications, themand was repeated. Those of the southrons, who understood Nordspeech, roared in exuberance; the rest, seeing the Order soldiers flee into the castle, soon shared their joy.


    Running across the courtyard, the ck-d warriors hurried inside the keep, barring the inner gate behind them. Any Order soldier still outside was abandoned, falling prey to southern swords. As for those who had been swift enough, respite was brief. The archers ascended up the stairs to take positions at windows overlooking the yard, harassing the attackers. Others spread out to retrieve any Order soldiers on the northern walls and to close the remaining entrances; depending on how swiftly the attackers moved, thetter might be done before the former.


    With the first obstacle defeated, the forces of Alczar would not be deterred by the inner gate. Protected by wicker screens and great shields, they advanced and threw great jars of oil against the wooden doors, followed by torches. Their taskpleted, they retreated beyond the range of arrows, hiding inside the conquered towers of the outer walls while watching the gate burn.


    Inside the keep, Sir Hkon watched. He saw the mes devour the wooden doors, slowly but surely eating their way through this final obstacle. Blood and grime covered his face; both his shield arm and his sword arm hung low, making the tip of his de touch ground. Around him in the entrance hall stood his remaining men. Some looked grim, others frightened, but most wore defeat on their faces. Further retreat was futile; once the keep was breached, the final part of the battle wouldmence. Sir Hkon looked at his men, and his own expression mirrored theirs.


    ~~~~


    Exercising caution, the southerners kept themselves safe as they prepared to take the inner castle. During the first assault, they had been squeezed together, forced to focus their attack on the southern and eastern walls; the castley close to the sea by the western and northern coast, making manoeuvres difficult. With the outer defences taken, such difficulties had vanished. The forces of Alczar could move to find every avenue of attack into the keep, making the most of their superior numbers.


    Your Highness! A warrior, dressed in light armour untouched by battle, approached Saif by the outer gate. Sidi, they have shown the horsehead g.


    The prince walked forward, staying behind the mantlets made of wicker that protected against archers in the upper windows. Ascending the nearest tower, followed by his aide, Saif looked across the courtyard. As said, a g showing the head of a horse had been tied to a spear and extended from a window. The prince turned to his right-hand man. Invite them out.


    ~~~~


    A handful of southerners stepped into the open courtyard. One man carried a banner, while the rest hadrge shields. The sight of this was quickly ryed to Sir Hkon. The knight kicked the smouldering remains of the gate, clearing a path for himself. He walked through, carrying no weapons but his sword in its sheath by his waist. Behind him came a soldier of the Order, holding a banner with the head of a horse upon it, which signalled the Mearcians desire to negotiate peace.


    Lastly, the prince appeared with his aide by his side. They stayed within the circle of their soldiers, who held the shields up while watching the windows of the keep.


    The aide cleared his throat. This is His Royal Highness, Prince Saif of the House al-Saqr, firstborn son to the Kabir of Alczar, whose rule


    Saif raised one hand, making a quick gesture to dismiss his servant. I think that will suffice.


    I am Sir Hkon of Dvaros, replied his opponent, inclining his head, knight of the Order of Adal and captain of this fortress. I seek terms.


    State your desire, Saif bid him.


    In exchange for our surrender, my men will not be harmed. They will be spared any suffering, and should the opportunity arise to exchange prisoners, this will be done without dy, securing their release, the knight dered.


    These are my terms, the prince replied, speaking Adalspeech with only a trace of his southern origins. In exchange for your surrender, your men will not be hurt, except if they vite these conditions as agreed. They will be set to work repairing the damage done to this castle and other works I deem necessary, but I shall ce no greater burdens upon them than my own men. They shall eat and rest as my men do, and if prisoners may be exchanged, so it shall be done as swiftly as is feasible.


    An expression ran across Hkons face. These terms are agreeable, upon your honour as a prince andmander.


    Saif bowed his head. Upon my honour.


    The knight undid his belt, presenting the scabbard of his sword with both hands. I surrender the castle and ind of Fortnn.


    Saif received the sheathed weapon, likewise epting it with both of his hands. I ept your surrender. You may call your men out toy down their arms. Take heart, Sir Hkon. You carried out your duty with honour.


    Hkon gave no reply; behind him, the soldiers of the Order appeared, throwing their weapons on the ground. Almost as swiftly as it had begun, the siege of Fortnn had ended.


    ~~~~


    Although the battle had ended, activity remained high. Besides burning the bodies of the in and clearing up the worst of the destruction, the southrons also dismantled their many siege engines and salvaged all materials they could find. This included the arms and weapons of the Mearcians; since much of it was forged from Nordsteel, it was highly prized among the southerners, and themanders distributed the spoils among those soldiers who had shown particr bravery on this day.


    As for the victoriousmander, he stood by the harbour. Several mamluks surrounded him in a loose ring, watching any who dared approach. Even if the ind had been taken and the Mearcians had surrendered, this remained hostile territory, and the guards knew to be watchful. Despite their caution, they did not stop the aide to the prince from passing through their rank; as Saifs right-hand man, he was trusted and spent most of his time in his masterspany.


    Your Highness, he spoke, waiting a few steps away until acknowledged. The prince had his back against him, gazing upon the ships in the water.


    Adherbal. The prince replied without looking, waiting until his aide stepped up to stand next to him.


    You sent for me?


    I seek your counsel.


    Adherbal bowed his head. As youmand.


    You know the decision I face. What rmends caution, and what rmends speed?


    Adherbal followed the princes gaze to look on the ships. More than half your forces remain in Maleth. Caution would advise that we wait for the galleys and even now send vessels back to fetch reinforcements. Once the majority of your troops are on this ind, they can swiftly reinforce your army once you continue the invasion.


    And the other argument?


    We have not heard from our spies in the kingdom of the many isles. We cannot be sure how much longer their strife continues. Should they have made peace, their assembled fleet may fall upon your scattered ships, and worse, keep your army trapped on this rock. And even if you are able to sail your army to the maind, their fleet may prevent yours from reinforcing you, leaving you deep in enemynds with few troops.


    Saif took a deep breath. What do the captains of thepanies prefer?


    The aide shrugged. They are mercenaries. The longer they can sit around and be paid to do nothing, the better.


    What would you advise?


    Adherbal scratched his cheek. I am a cautious man by nature, sidi. That is how I havee to serve you and retain my position where many bold men failed.


    It certainly is not brevity that keeps you employed.


    A wry smile crossed the aides face before it grew serious. Caution avoids defeat, sidi, but it rarely wins a war.


    Saif slowly exhaled. Give the order. We makendfall as soon as possible near their city of the southern harbour.


    As youmand.

 Chapter 190: Cold Cuts

    Chapter 190: Cold Cuts


    Across Ealond, small bands of men trickled together to form a river of soldiers. It slithered across thend, following the winding roads along streams of water or around hills and other obstacles from one city to another. Day by day, the procession grew as more and more joined; they were noblemen, soldiers of fortune, and peasants levied for war. The Order, be it as knights ormon soldiery, was conspicuously absent.


    Rumour of the armys march went ahead, causing apprehension among the locals. It was never certain how soldiers would behave; this held especially true for the peasants suddenly drafted into war, sent on long marches far from home, and issued weapons for the first time. Every city was expected to contribute provisions and supplies for the kings army, and if that were all they lost, they considered themselves lucky. Inparison, the viges and towns were fortunate to escape the direct attention of the army, though theing war did not leave them untouched; most of the menfolk would be levied by the local lord, marching off to join the procession. Behind them, they left fields in need of tilling and sowing, a task left to the women, children, and men too old to fight.


    ~~~~


    Leading his band of about a hundred men, Baron Damien of Montmer reached the army two weeks after setting out. At this point, it had left Fontaine days ago, slowly moving west along the Mihtea for a supply of fresh water. Out on the river, the crews and passengers of passing boats stared at the assembly of soldiers, some with more understanding than others. Those following the flow of the river west, towards Herbergja, exchanged concerned words and worried looks. No matter the origin or destination, no matter what caused the movement, an army on the march was never a good sign tomonfolk.


    As his men found a gap in the rows of marching soldiers where they might join, Damien rode ahead along the columns. He only halted his horse when he reached other riders, who hailed him.


    Sir Damien himself, one of them shouted.


    Baron Damien, the former knight replied in correction, guiding his steed to fall in next to them.


    Ah, true. They made you baron of that heap of rocks you call a castle, I forgot.


    Compared to the barren wastnd of Verbonne, it is a grand fortress, Damien retaliated.


    Lots of words, yet all I hear is jealousy.


    That arrow wound in your shoulder, did it make you deaf? Or did the old count of Verbonne smack you one too many times over the head.


    The current countughed. That he did, the old bastard. At least it taught me the value of a good helmet. He rapped his knuckles against the iron protection on his head. Gods, I cannot believe you remember the arrow!


    I pulled it out of you myself, while you grunted like a pig being turned to sausage, Damien remarked. How could I forget such a tender moment?


    More raucousughter ensued, including from the counts attendants, riding near their lord. Say, how long have you been back? We could have used you in the fight against Belvoir, said Verbonne.


    I bet you could, Damien replied dryly. But I only came back because that fight left empty seats at Montmer, and someone had to fill them.


    Right, of course. You should havee back long ago, rather than drift around.


    The baron shrugged. Given the road ahead, I should have stayed away longer.


    Hah! Your sword is sharp, Montmer, but your tongue is not dull either. Verbonne lowered his voice, which given his boisterous nature, did not make much difference. Monteau would say the same. He is none too pleased. He says little, but you can tell by his look.


    I never met the man.


    You will get the opportunity, Verbonne dered. We got more than one day between us and the fish-lickers! You will eat with us tonight, and I will make introductions.


    I have done enough marches to never turn down food, Damien remarked, to which his newpanions voiced their agreement.


    ~~~~


    As evening fell, the army made camp. Some had tents to pitch. Mostly the rich among the noblemen and the seasoned mercenaries. As for the rest, a bedroll or perhaps just a woollen cloak providedfort while fires began to burn, letting the soldiers make an evening meal for themselves. Such had been the case for Damien so far, marching only with his men to reach the army, but tonight he heeded Verbonnes invitation. Leaving his horse in the care of his sergeant, the baron made his way through the disorderly camp.


    His destination was one of therger tents, already filled with people eating cold meats and drinking wine. All present appeared to be of the nobility, judging by the crests adorning their garbs. Inparison, Damien wore an undyed cloak, and his equipment looked worn except for the sword, newly gifted to him by the marshal.


    A stray dog! The remark came from a nobleman already deep in the cups, seeing Damien standing by the entrance to the tent.


    You should watch yourself, Verbonne dered, standing up quickly. That is Sir  Baron Damien of Montmer, and he could take your head before you finished mouthing off.


    The oath-breaker, mumbled the first man, though he kept his voice quiet.


    Damiens hand clenched his sword hilt, but another spoke before the former Temr could.


    Make room for the baron. The speaker sat in the middle of the tent on the only proper chair. Everyone else had stools or improvised furniture; Verbonnes seat was a barrel, which he returned to now that Damien had been admitted entrance.


    Thanks, said the baron gruffly, sitting down on a crate next to his friend.


    We have never met, continued the other man, but I saw you at the tournament in Middanhal, many years ago. The Orders loss is our gain.


    Arge te with meat carvings was ced on a table in front of them, and Damien reached out to grab a fistful of ham. By your attire, I wager you are the duke of Monteau and my host tonight.


    That I am.


    In that case, I eat to your health. Damien raised the meat in his hand as a gesture before he tore off a bite with his teeth.


    His remark caused someughter. Better get the man something to drink, or he will keep eating to your health, Verbonne suggested, and someone put a cup of wine in front of Damien.


    Much obliged, the baron muttered, though he refrained from picking up the goblet, sticking to his slices of ham.


    A pity you were not in Ealond when we fought against Belvoir, Monteau said.


    So I have heard.


    The fish-lickers should provide less resistance, at least, Verbonne imed. Belvoir may be the son of a traitor, but his soldiers are rivermen. The inders only know how to fight at sea, steady ground under their feet confuses them! He roared withughter and was rewarded with the same from others.


    What is your opinion, Baron Montmer? asked the duke, watching his food being rapidly eaten by Damien.


    My opinion is that we face Order soldiers on those walls, and our levies will not fare well.


    You doubt our ability to fight? someone asked with rising anger.


    Damien sent the man a disinterested look. I have no knowledge of your sword, only your tongue, which tells me little of your skill. But I know Order soldiers, and I know Sir Asger. Nothing good awaits us on those walls. Trying to scale them will decimate us.


    We have the finest engineers with us, someone countered. We will be on their walls with ease!


    And then true warriors, true rivermen of honour and valour, will ensure victory!


    Damiens attention was still on his food, but he wore a smile that could be understood as contemptuous.


    You seem doubtful, Monteau said, directed at the baron making his way through a serving of mutton.


    The way to take Herbergja is by sea. The harbour is too wide for proper defence, and the soft ground prevents heavy fortifications. Attacking the city bynd, we have to go through the Mihtea itself, surrounding the city like a moat, Damien exined. He finally raised his eyes to find everyone looking at him in silence. I see my lords have never walked the walls of Herbergja.


    A moat is hardly going to stop us, someone sneered, though with little conviction.


    Not forever, but it will dy the siege by months if you want to divert the course of the river and allow your siege towers and battering rams to reach the walls. Assuming such a feat is even possible. Damien shrugged.


    My father told me of a siege once, where they made simple bridges. Did not take more than a few days, came the suggestion with a touch of triumph in the speakers voice.


    Sure, leaving only stormdders for the assault. Damien reached out to grab another slice of mutton. Which would be a bloodbath. He chewed loudly, the only one making noise. After a few moments of silence, he finally rose. It might be best to seek rest, given the march ahead. Thank you for your hospitality, Duke Monteau. The baron inclined his head to his host and left the tent, leaving an untouched cup of wine behind along with a subdued collection of noblemen.


    ~~~~


    The otherrge tent in camp was almost empty. The king sat in a chair with a cup of wine. He stared through the opening on the activities outside, winding down for the night; soldiers that finished their meals, made sure their belongings were in order for tomorrows march, andy down to sleep. The kings onlypany was a servant, ensuring the royal cup remained full.


    One of the guards outside the tent stuck his head inside. Master Guilbert is here, Your Majesty.


    Send him in, Rainiermanded while he gestured at his servant. Thetter left as Guilbert entered. What news? asked the king.


    Having made a deep bow, Guilbert straightened up. Another has joined the duke and his retinue. Baron Damien of Montmer.


    Rainier frowned. Montmer? Is he a vassal to me or the duke?


    Yours, Your Majesty. In fact, the father and brother of the current baron both fought for Your Majesty against  the traitors.


    The name means nothing to me, so I assume his army is modest.


    Perceptive as always, Your Majesty. It is not the strength of his army, but his arm or rather his name that precedes him.


    The king drank from his cup. Should I know it?


    Not necessarily, Your Majesty. The old men do. As a Temr knight, Sir Damien was renowned. There may not be a better swordsman in all of Ealond.


    Knight? Rainier scowled. Is he one of Martels rats in disguise?


    No, Your Majesty. He was thrown out of the Order years ago.


    An oath-breaker, the king spoke with disdain. I can see why he fits in thepany of Monteau. He seemed to stare past Guilbert, out on the camp or at something no others could see, and muttered to himself. Malcontents, the lot of them. This baron, he suddenly spoke with renewed fervour, is he of the same ilk as the duke?


    He did seem to discourage the others, Guilbert revealed. Hardly the same mettle as his family. He may not be a beneficial influence upon your other vassals, Your Majesty.


    Rainier stroke the small beard on his chin, which his servant groomed each morning. That can be remedied. After all, if his prowess is renowned, we must have him lead our soldiers.


    Guilbert bowed deeply. An excellent decision, Your Majesty.

 Chapter 191: Taking Measures

    Chapter 191: Taking Measures


    As the march continued, Damienspanions changed from day to day, with the exception being Verbonne, who rarely wavered from his friends side. Some came to see the name known to many, either from early deeds bestowing honour ortter years spent in ignominy. Damien paid them little heed, except when asked his opinion on the war ahead. Though the army of Ealond had other greybeards and veterans, the young noblemen had only seen battle when fighting the duke of Belvoir, and they knew little of sieges.


    The attention eventually subsided, and on thest day before reaching Herbergja, Damien rode undisturbed with only Verbonne aspany. Thetter spoke most of the time with the baron of Montmer mostly interjecting grunts of agreement when needed.


    After a lengthy and unusual period of silence, Damien looked over at the count. Verbonne rode with a grimace on his face, and his left arm hung low rather than holding to the reins.


    Something ails you?


    Verbonne shook his head. Just the old arrow wound. On cold days, I feel it in the shoulder. It causes no problem to me as such. Despite his casual words, it was hard to imagine the count raising a shield with that arm in its current state. He cleared his throat. Have you heard of Fortnn?


    Not unless you have already told me.


    They say a fleet of Alczar has invaded the ind. Imagine that, southerners daring to attack Adalmearc! A few voices gave utterances of shock from among Verbonnes men.


    I suppose their hour is well chosen. There is strife in most of the realms, Damien considered.


    Indeed, those scoundrels. It will be a terrible siege on the ind, no doubt! But they say the garrison is strong and couldst for weeks or longer, Verbonne imed.


    I would wager the length of the siege depends on how many men the southrons are willing to throw at the walls.


    The question is where they turn their attention next. Dvaros? the count spected.


    They will need arger harbour than Fortnn, but I doubt it will be the carven city, the baron said. I have seen Dvaros. It is near impossible to assault. I suspect they will seek to the maind.


    Hah, consider if the bastards sail for Herbergja! We would have a merry feast between us, them, and the inders.


    Unlike our gracious king, theye with a fleet, Damien pointed out. If you gave me free choice, I would rather be in their ranks.


    Verbonne issued his characteristicughter that swept over thendscape. Imagine if the southerners take the city first, and we will end up liberating the city we came to conquer!


    For once, Damiens lips curled upwards. Why not? Stranger things have happened.


    Of those nearby, a few joined in the mirth, while others simply paid attention to every word exchanged between the noblemen.


    ~~~~


    On the following day, the army spotted the walls of Herbergja. The gates were closed; banners and soldiers of the Order crowded the towers. Marching along the Mihtea, the army made camp and set up defensive structures. The engineers, the best from the guild in Fontaine, began their survey. Their main interest was not the walls, but the great river that flowed past their camp towards the city, surrounding it like a moat to the north and south before reaching the sea. A boat, brought along from Fontaine for this purpose, allowed them to measure the depth of the river, which otherwise was devoid of vessels; word of the army arriving had spread, ensuring that none lingered.


    Meanwhile, the soldiers set up camp south of the Mihtea. Given the harbour, any attempts to starve the city would be futile, and the army saw no reason to control the northern riverbank. The soldiers erected watchtowers, letting sentries keep eye on the water and beyond; otherwise, scouts were sent out to scour the southern side and see it clear of Order forces or inders.


    ~~~~


    Having no tents to raise, Damiens preparations in camp were quickly done. The same probably held true for his soldiers, peasants armed with hunting spears or old des, but if so, Damien would not be aware; he spent his time in the tent belonging to Verbonne, drinking water while the count had wine.


    A royal guard interrupted them, sticking his head inside the tent. You have been summoned, milord, he said. The baron, he rified, looking at Damien, who in turn nced at the count; he received only a shrug in response. Getting up, Damien followed the guard across camp until they reached the grand tent raised for the king. Wait here, came themand as the messenger went inside. An expression ran across Damiens face, but he did as he was told, shifting from foot to foot with his hand on the sword hilt. The guards outside the tent gave him disinterested looks, but did nothing else. A few momentster, the messenger appeared. You may enter now.


    Damien strode past the guards to find several people waiting for him. The king, as could be expected, was present, seated in afortable chair. Guilbert, his advisor, stood next to him. A bearded man wearing work clothes and gloves in leather, had rolled up parchments in his hands. Finally, the kings servant could be found in the back.


    Baron Montmer, the king greeted him, to which Damien bowed his head while still ring at everyone present. I have a task of the utmost importance only suitable for the bravest, and so I thought of you.


    What task would that be? asked the nobleman.


    A displeased expression touched the kings face before he spoke again. This is my chief engineer. He motioned towards the bearded man. He has need of your aid to perform a daring feat that will enable us to win this siege. Go with him, and he shall exin it all.


    Damien sighed and gave the engineer a withering stare. Come on, then, he eximed. With a deep bow to the king, the craftsman left the tent quickly. The baron inclined his head towards the king and made his own departure.


    With displeasure appearing on his face once more, the king emptied his cup. He seems little more than a beggar dressed up as a warrior. Is he really up to the task?


    If he is, he will return with the knowledge we require. If not, he will not return at all. Either way, a problem has been solved, Your Majesty, Guilbert imed.


    If only Monteau could be handled so easily.


    Give it time, Your Majesty. Once the assault begins, the duke may find himself where the fighting is hardest.


    The king gave no answer but stretched out his hand to have his cup refilled.


    ~~~~


    In the middle of the night, two men left the camp. One was Damien, wearing a leather jerkin in lieu of his chain shirt. He had no helmet either. The few bits of metal he wore, such as the hilt of his sword, had been covered, avoiding any reflection of the crescent moons pale light. Next to him walked another man, simrly dressed in dark leather and cloth. He carried a rope with a grappling hook attached to it, covered by a sack.


    Together, they walked towards Herbergja, passing beyond the outer defences and sentinels of the encampment. The open stretch ofnd between city and campy empty, as far as eyes might see in the dark; though if any Order soldiers crept around, it was reasonable to assume that they, like Damien and hispanion, had d themselves for the night.


    As they moved, the pair studied their surroundings; at any sign of movement, they crouched low and waited until an owl flew past, a fox ran by, or some other animal. Slowly, as the hours crawled by, so did the two men, approaching Herbergja.


    That hook, Damien asked in a quiet voice, ncing at the other mans sack. That is an inder tool, is it not? You use it to board ships.


    Aye.


    If you are an inder, should you not be up there? Damien threw his head towards the city walls.


    Theyve got no reason to pay me coin for flinging hooks, do they? the inder replied with a grin.


    I suppose not.


    They continued in silence as Herbergja began to rise higher and higher in the horizon. Specks of light could be seen on the walls, torches carried by guards. They were many; as could be expected, vignce was high.


    Wait. Damien whispered the word, extending one hand to arrest hispanion. Until that cloud covers the moon. They both looked up at the crescent moon, watching as its light slowly became dimmed. Only then did they continue.


    Finally, they stood by the moat. The inder coiled the rope of his hook, ensuring it would not get tangled. Meanwhile, Damien removed his boots and unbuckled his belt. Laying thetter carefully on the ground along with his sword, he removed the knife from its sheath.


    Ready? asked the inder hoarsely, smiling.


    Get to it, Damien replied impatiently.


    The inder began swinging the hook, gaining momentum until he let it fly. It soared up andnded on the wall between the crions, attaching itself. He let go of the rope, which fell down to hang against the stonework. Youre up.


    cing his knife between his teeth, Damien sat down by the edge of the moat and carefully entered the water. He swam the short distance to cross it, reaching the rope hanging down the wall. Treading waters, he took his knife and cut the strands where they met the water. His free hand caught the rope floating in the moat; returning the knife to his mouth, he swam back.


    Whats this? came a voice from the wall. A rope! rm!


    Looking up, Damien saw lights. Several of them, approaching. He swam faster. Reaching the bank, he saw no sign of the inder. Coward, he sneered through teeth clenched around his knife. He climbed up, sheathing the small de. Suddenly, torchesnded around him, thrown from the walls to illuminate the ground. Arrows began to follow. Himils balls! Damien eximed. Still holding the severed rope, he grabbed his belt with the same hand, his pair of boots with the other, and ran off towards the camp.


    ~~~~


    An hourter, having ran most of the way, Damien reached camp. He shivered from the cold in the night air, wearing soaked clothes. His boots were back on his feet, at least, and his belt returned to his waist. His hand carried the severed rope still.


    Who goes there? asked the guards at the edge of camp.


    Me, you fools, Damien barked. I left some hours ago.


    The sentinels scrutinised his appearance; both failed to suppress expressions of mirth. You may pass, one of them said, almost without snickering.


    The baron stalked past them, walking forcefully until he reached the tent of the chief engineer, whoy snoring on his cot. Barging in, Damien kicked the bed.


    With a confused expression, shifting to fear momentarily, the sleeper woke and looked around. Damien threw the wet rope on top of him. Your prize, he muttered.


    What? Oh! The engineer leapt out of bed, grabbing the rope. He pushed through his tools scattered around the tent until he found a foot-long stick used for measurement. He stretched out the rope, measuring one foot, continued to measure the second, and the third, and in this manner, determined the full length of the remaining rope. Twenty-eight feet and two inches! That gives us walls that are almost twelve feet tall, he said, grabbing a piece of coal to write down numbers on parchment.


    You got what you needed? Damien asked.


    What did you say? The engineer looked up. Yes, I did. He smiled.


    Good. Ask me to do something like this again, I will disembowel you with a spoon. Damien strode off, leaving the craftsman to his calctions.

 Chapter 192: Before the Storm

    Chapter 192: Before the Storm


    Nearly past noon, a foot prodded the sleeping Damien. Time to wake, came the boisterous voice belonging to the count of Verbonne. You cannot sleep away the whole war!


    Begone, Hel-spawn, Damien mumbled with eyes closed.


    I heard you took a swimst night.


    The baron finally opened his eyes, looking up to find a wide grin greeting him. You know this, and yet you bother me.


    I figured you needed to break fast, and I know you got nothing but mouldy bread with you. Verbonne threw strips of dried meat at his friend. Damien growled but picked up the beef, even the bits thatnded in the dirt, and began to chew. Come, up! the count demanded. Walking around will do you good before you grow lethargic.


    With apathetic movements, Damien got up. He took the cloth serving as his bedroll and sped it around his neck, turning it into a cloak. You woke me up to take a stroll?


    I am bored. Verbonne shrugged. Damn whatever fool invented sieges!


    Everyone ims that sieges bore them, Damien remarked, but the moment the fighting starts, everyone wishes they were still bored.


    Hah, true! But we all have reputations to uphold, so we must all make the same, oldint.


    Damien nced around with a frown, passing tents and soldiers ying dice. The otherwise pervasive smell of horses began to lessen as they moved away from the parts of camp where the nobility resided. Where are we going?


    I thought we might cast a look at the engineers. Verbonne spoke quietly, rtive to the usual magnitude of his voice. I am guessing that is why you went swimmingst night.


    They had me measure the height of the walls.


    Could it be for siege towers?


    Hardly. To get them to the walls, we have to fill the moat. To do that, we must divert the river to stand a chance. I do not see much digging being done so far, Damien pointed out. It has to be stormdders.


    Perhaps we will see in a moment, Verbonne considered.


    They reached the only part of camp busy withbour. Timber was being measured, cut, and assembled in various ways, overseen by the siege engineers and carried out by their apprentices and craftsmen.


    No wheels in sight, Damien said.


    I better tell the duke. He will want to know what to expect.


    The baron of Montmer did not reply to this other than to take another bite of his dried beef.


    ~~~~


    The next days passed quietly in the siege camp. Until the engineerspleted their tasks, there would be no assault upon the city; being outnumbered, there was little chance of the garrison risking an open battle. Thus, the rivermen had little to do besides patrol the area and wait. Thissted until the fourth day of their arrival.


    On the fourth night, cries of rm rose from the northern sentinels. Arrows descended from the air and spears appeared in the dark. Unlike Damien on his nightly foray, the Order soldiers had not concealed themselves entirely; even if they had, the noise from hundreds of men in movement would give them away. Thus, the men of Ealond had warning before the enemy came upon them, and seizing weapons, they rushed towards the northern lines to defend their camp.


    Damien woke among his men, most of whom had had never seen battle before. They gripped their weapons, staring in every direction with fright on their faces. What should we do, milord? asked some


    Do we fight?


    Where do we go?


    Quiet, you simpering fools! Damien barked. Stay where you are. Plenty of other oafs in this camp eager to die.


    What if they attack us, milord?


    Himils balls, the baron swore. This is barely a skirmish. Our camp is fortified, and they hardly got the numbers to do much. Even the rabble here can hold them off. His voice grew less intense. In fact, there is nothing to be gained by this attack, unless


    What, milord?


    Damien threw his helmet onto his head and began walking away. Stay here!


    Milord, where youre going?


    Stay where you are! the baron shouted over his shoulder, hurrying away.


    He ran through a camp gripped by confusion, though most soldiers understood to make their way north. As the only one, Damien moved south. He reached the engineers part of the camp and stopped, catching his breath. All seemed calm. In part due to the corpses on the ground, making no noise. Every guard posted to this locationy dead, killed in swift struggle overshadowed by the fighting to the north.


    Blinking in the dark, Damien stared at the few shadows and shapes moving about. He gripped the hilt of his sword, but did not draw the de just yet. Ahead of him, the white star of the Order could be faintly seen against the ck surcoats of the attackers. Now and then, sparks lit up in the darkness, as flint struck metal in an attempt to ignite tinder.


    Moments passed as Damien watched, seemingly paralysed. His handy ready on the hilt, yet he did not draw steel, and his browy furrowed in thought.


    Finally, the attackers had luck, and me began to blossom. Over here! someone cried out. Theyre setting fire to the camp! The calls for aid were repeated, and soldiers began to stream towards the area.


    With a growl, Damien finally drew his sword and ran forward. He engaged the nearest Order soldier, pushing him back. Staying defensive, Damien swiped at several more, forcing them on the retreat. Meanwhile, more rivermen arrived; while some joined the fight, others began to put out the fires. The element of surprise lost and time against them, the Order soldiers pulled back, returning to the darkness.


    ~~~~


    Any damage caused by the nightly raid proved limited. The only aim had been to destroy the siege machinery being built, using the initial assault as a diversion. Yet the attack upon the engineers quarters had been discovered too soon, and the work had only suffered minor setbacks. The craftsmen continued the next morning, assembling stormdders and building primitive bridges to ovee the moat.


    Morale rose upon hearing this, especially given the few casualties taken. To many, this was an early victory and a good sign of what was toe. Thus, despite the events of the previous night, the mood in camp was rxed rather than tense, and none seemed anxious. Rather, the soldiers quickly resumed their routines to keep boredom at bay, which mostly meant games of chance involving coin.


    Some of the noblemen found amusement in the same way, though others sparred, either to hone their skills or earn admiration. Especially the younger among the vassals to the duke of Monteau favoured this pastime, demonstrating their swordy as entertainment for their liege. Whether this increased their standing in the eyes of the duke or if he even paid them much heed was difficult to say; the master of Monteau was not an expressive man, and he watched his vassals spar with little emotion on his face or in his voice.


    Others among the noblemen in camp had joined Monteauspany as well; some to join in the exertions, others to watch. Boredom was not necessarily the only reason that many drifted towards the dukes quarters; as ruler of a powerful duchy, nonemanded as many troops in the army of Ealond save for the king himself.


    Another bout ended to the sound of cheers and scorn, depending on the allegiance of the spectators. One young man, having acquitted himself well so far, looked around at the small crowd with confidence. Anyone else who dares to face me?


    Montmer, I have never known you to back down from a challenge, Verbonne eximed, elbowing his friend.


    Thanks to hispanions gesture, Damien nearly dropped the apple in his hand. With an annoyed look at Verbonne, he took a bite of his fruit. I am eating.


    That seems to be all the good lord of Montmer does, dered the young beorn who stood as victor in thest fight, and he was rewarded with derisiveughter. If he wields a sword half as well as his meat knife, those inders are in trouble!


    Verbonne looked at the baron. You are not going to stand for that, are you? His words were overshadowed by his grin.


    Damien sighed. Fine. We might as well get it over with. He took another, hefty bite of his apple and threw the remainder into Verbonnes hands. Drawing his sword, he stepped into the open square that served as fighting pit.


    His opponent raised sword and shield in response. You should arm yourself with a ward as well, old man, he suggested.


    Just attack, Damien told him.


    Shrugging, the beorn did so. He took one step forward and brought his sword in a swift arch from above, aimed at Damiens shoulder. The blow fell with sufficient force to throw a man onto his back, should itnd. Meanwhile, the beorn kept his shield ready to defend.


    Damien, unburdened by heavy armour or a shield of his own, crouched low. His enemys strike, easy to foresee, missed him; meanwhile, the former Temr could swing his own sword at the beorns knee, too low for any shield to guard.


    Out of bnce from his forward stance, the beorns knee copsed under him. Before he could regain his footing, Damien rose and followed up with a kick to the stomach, and his attacker fell to the ground.


    Sheathing his sword, the baron of Montmer turned towards Verbonne, who threw his apple to him.


    Impressive, lord baron, the duke of Monteau dered.


    I trained as a knight, Damien remarked. Swordy every day for fourteen years from age seven. He cast a disdainful look at the beorn getting back on his feet. You better pray that no knight awaits you on the city walls.


    And be thankful Lord Montmer fights on our side, Verbonne added with a grin.


    Big words from someone who lets hispanion do all the fighting, the beorn said with anger towards the count.


    Watch your tongue before I take it, Damien eximed with a menacing voice, taking a sudden step towards the offending nobleman with one hand on his sword hilt.


    Peace, dered Monteau. There can be dignity in defeat, but you disy none at present, he told his vassal.


    I fight for your honour, my lord, the beorn protested.


    Of all the reasons to fight, that may be the poorest, the duke said. I would be an ill liege to demand youy down your life on such grounds. Several expressed their agreement, and it became clear the days entertainment had ended; soon after, the small crowd dispersed.


    ~~~~


    In contrast to his vassals and soldiers seeking entertainment, the king seemed content to sit in his tent and brood. He rarely hadpany, even though many might seek an audience, hoping to gain favour with the king or perhaps insight into his ns; Rainier refused them all and only saw those he summoned. His primarypany, besides the servant tending to his needs, was Guilbert, appearing each evening with news of the camp.


    Your suspicions were true, Your Majesty, Guilbert said after giving a deep bow. The duke of Monteau cannot be trusted.


    I knew it, Rainier muttered. Leave us, he added, directed at his servant, whoplied. What did he say? he asked of Guilbert.


    The duke coats his words in caution, but their meaning remains apparent. He does not support Your Majesty fighting this war, and he said as much for all to hear.


    The king threw his goblet aside. Impertinent bastards! Why does none of them understand that for Ealond to prosper, to be strong, safe from our enemies, we must have Herbergja!


    Your Majesty is wise to see this. Sadly, Your Majestys vassals are less clearsighted.


    If I did not need their soldiers, I would have all their heads adorn the city gate next to old man Belvoir, Rainier said with seething voice.


    The duke only dares to speak ill of Your Majesty because of his army, Guilbert imed. But now the engineers have finished their work, perhaps we may hit two nails with one strike of the hammer.


    ~~~~


    The following day, the king summoned the noblemen in the camp. Most could guess the reason; everyone with a care to find out knew that the siege engineers hadpleted the stormdders and the rolling bridges, on which the former might be deployed.


    Once his vassals and their vassals had gathered before his tent, the king appeared, nked by his guards and Guilbert. The time hase, Rainier spoke, letting his voice resonate. This incursion of inders on Ealonds soil will end!


    A few scattered affirmations among the crowd could be heard.


    It is an honour for us all to be here, the king continued. But the greatest honour is reserved for those who lead the charge. I could not ce such trust in any but the foremost of my vassals, Duke Monteau, and his men.


    Some responded with cheers; as for the duke himself, he bowed his head, but expressed no opinion through voice or face.


    Of course, Ealond is blessed with many warriors of great strength and renown, Rainier spoke again. We have all heard of the exploits by the baron of Montmer. Thus, I have chosen him to be first on the walls with his men. Likewise, the count of Verbonne will be given this honour.


    No. The t refusal caused those nearby to turn and stare at Damien, and murmurs broke out.


    Finally, I have chosen  what did you say? Disbelief gave way to anger in the kings voice.


    I am done with this war. I am going home, the baron of Montmer dered.


    You spineless coward! Rainier spat the words out. I show you the highest honour, and you dare to refuse your king?


    I have been first on the walls before you were born, Your Majesty, Damien replied with equal disdain. But my men are peasants. I lead them up thosedders, they will be ughtered for nothing.


    Pathetic! The great warrior Damien of Montmer is not only a coward, but he hides behind peasants! the king sneered. As if they have any purpose but to fight for their lord!


    Their purpose is to work mynds, the baron dered with his own temper ring up. My fields barely have seed as half my serfs died fighting against Belvoir!


    Not to mention your father and brother! Verbonne interjected.


    Right, them as well. It took Damien a moment before he continued, his voice grew loud once more. I will not see my harvest rot because a king with no understanding of warmanded all my serfs to die!


    I am your liege! You are sworn to my service, yet you prove yourself an oath-breaker once again!


    I always keep my oaths! Damien roared. In my life, I have twice sworn allegiance, to the high king and the archon. Neither of those men are here.


    Guards, seize the traitor!


    Swifter than most could blink, Damiens handy on his sword hilt and had drawn the de three inches. Any of you fools try, your heads will greet your feet.


    The guards aimed their spears at the baron, exchanging looks; none seemed willing to be the first to approach.


    Montmer is right, dered the duke of Monteau. The inders never caused harm to me or mine. I also have fields to sow and harvest, and my men have families they must feed with those fields.


    Yeah! yelled Verbonne. To Hel with the king! His cry was picked up by others. Tension rose until it appeared that it might ignite into bloodshed. The king retreated behind his guards, who stood outnumbered by the scores of noblemen, many of them reaching for their own weapons; hearing themotion, soldiers loyal to either side appeared from the rest of the camp.


    I am going home, Damien dered loudly, letting his de fall back into its sheath. He turned around, showing his back to the king and the spears aimed at him. As he began to walk away, the crowd parted before him. The outbursts of anger from the noblemen died down, watching him leave. One by one, they did the same. Gradually, the crowd dispersed as dukes, counts, and barons each went to their own quarters. Soon after, most of them were breaking camp.


    ~~~~


    Over the next weeks, the cities, towns, and viges of western Ealond experienced a curious sight. The same army that had passed through theirnds not long ago now travelled the other direction. Before, it had been many small streams of soldiers merging to form one river; this time, it was the reverse, as the noblemen and their followers broke into different directions, each seeking his home. More than one hurried his men along into a forced march; it was still early in spring, and those who returned swiftly couldy aside their arms and turn from soldiers to serfs in time to sow the fields.


    As for the king, he returned to Fontaine in humiliation. Word had arrived ahead of him. His failure to subjugate the young duke of Belvoirst year had already cast aspersions on his rule. That one vassal could oppose the king and keep his title andnds seemed an ill portend, many had whispered; now people spoke openly on the streets of how the kings vassals had turned their back on him. Truth became diluted into rumours. Many stories flourished regarding what had happened at the siege camp. Some believed that it was only a few that had abandoned the war, and the siege of Herbergja had been lifted due to other circumstances, while others spoke of imminent rebellion and that soon, the kings head would grace that of the old duke of Belvoir above the city gate.


    Regardless of truth, one thing became apparent. The king had lost the support of his vassals and could no longer rely on them. He had barely returned to Fontaine when cmitous news reached the capital. The armies of Alczar had madendfall and begunying siege to Portesur, and when Rainier summoned the lords of Ealond to gather in defence of the realm, few heeded the call. Damien of Montmer was not among them; instead, he spent his time and silver building a temple to Austre in the woods of his holding, visiting each day to see how the construction progressed.

 Chapter 193: The Engineer

    Chapter 193: The Engineer


    Less than a week after Fortnn had fallen, the armies of Alczar reached the maind. With Thusunds fleet scattered among the northern isles, fighting rebels, the southerners had easy passage across the sea. Five thousand troopsnded some thirty miles south of Portesur; nearly all that had been involved in the assault on Fortnn.


    It was a small force, hardly enough to besiege one of thergest cities in Ealond, and vulnerable to immediate counter-attack. Unaware that neither the Order nor the king at present could gather a sizeable army to retaliate, the southerners first act was to send out raiding parties. Besides scouting the area, they plundered the surroundings for food and materials, allowing a fortified camp to be raised. The ships that had brought the armies of Alczar to Mearcian shores, meanwhile, turned around without dy. Unable to traverse the Teeth, they had a long journey west through Drake Run before circling around Fortnn, sailing south-east to reach Maleth and reinforcements, upon which they would make the same voyage back. On the way, they would meet the remainder of Alczars fleet;rge galleys, slow in open seas, and still making their own way to Fortnn.


    Prince Saif, his mamluks and mercenaries watched the sails of the ships disappear from the horizon. Whether the new vessels built for this invasion or the old galleys,rgely taken from Labdah, would reach them first with reinforcements, remained an open question. The only certainty was that until either happened, the small army from Alczar stood alone in hostilends.


    ~~~~


    Given their precarious situation, the southerners constantly patrolled the surroundings. Eventually, their presence in Ealond would provoke a response; if the soldiers of Alczars vanguard were to stand a chance of defending themselves, they would need immediate awareness of when such a response showed up. It also kept the men upied; restless soldiers stuck inside a camp could only spell trouble.


    Thus, in groups of five, the southerners roamed the area. All of those sent on patrol were mercenaries; the prince kept his small contingent of mamluks close to him. One band of these sell-swords, bearing the dark emblem of the ck Sunpany, slowly trudged through fields ten miles north of the encampment. Despite this being the direction of Portesur, the mercenaries seemed rxed. More than a week had passed since their arrival, and they had yet to see the surcoat of a single Order soldier.


    Every day on patrol, one of them murmured. I thought this posting was going to be sitting in camp, doing nothing but besieging and waiting. But first day of battle, they send us storming up. We barely get a nights sleep on solid ground before its back to the ships, and now, its bloody patrols day after day.


    Youre getting paid for walking around, another argued. Quit your grumbling and be d we havent seen one hair of these northern bastards. If the whole war is spent on patrol, Ill be d to have coin in my pocket and not a single scar more than I came with.


    Hah, yeah, came the third person. War without battles, thats how we like them.


    Youre a blue-eyed fool if you think thisllst. The greybeard in the group spoke up next. Were one city fighting against seven kingdoms. The wool-heads may be slow to react, but once they do He cleared his throat. You dont ever want to see a host of knights charging your position.


    If thats what you think, whye along?


    Heres where the pay is. The veteran soldier shrugged. If things go bad, you run. Throw away your surcoat and find some other ce that needs swords to fight for them.


    Whats that? One of them pointed at distant movement.


    A rider, I think.


    Alone?


    Looks like it.


    Spread out, said the greybeard. Unless hes one of ours, it smells like a trap.


    The man next to him squinted. I dont see any colours on him. Not any of ours, nor the white star. He doesnt like a soldier.


    Even more suspicious, grunted the informal leader of the band. He nced around. Hide over there, behind the bushes. You and you, get your spears ready if he tries to ride past us. You, he continued at the soldier moving to hide himself, if he tries to turn back once I talk to him, jab his horse.


    Quickly, the soldiers obeyed, and the veteran ced himself in the middle of the dusty road, nked by spears. The rider approached, keeping the horse trotting. For a moment, it looked like steed and spears might collide before the reins were pulled back sharply. As the horse regained its bnce, the rider swayed precariously for a moment. Wearing garments typical of any peasant, the only thing of notice about thetter was a scroll case hanging over the shoulder in a leather strap.


    You are soldiers of Alczar? the rider asked, using Nordspeech with a light voice.


    We are, the greybeard replied, speaking the same tongue with some difficulty. Get off your horse and throw weapons away.


    Im here to see yourmander. I wish to enter his service.


    The mercenaryughed. Hell not want peasants. Your horse is not enough to make you warrior. He nced to the side where one of hispanions crept forward from the bushes. And soon you wont even have horse.


    I bring him a weapon, the rider dered, taking hold of the scroll case. This will let him take any city with ease, and, might I add, far fewer casualties. If you fellows value your lives, youll take me to him.


    The soldiers looked at each other and began discussing in Suthspeech. You think hes telling the truth? A weapon?


    What kind of weapon is so small yet so dangerous, it fits inside his small case?


    Idiots, sneered the greybeard. Hes got ns of some sort inside. It could be knowledge of the city walls. Or, he continued pensively, a small dagger meant to murder the prince with.


    Then we better kill him, another suggested. If hes a hired de, we stopped him. If those are ns of the walls, we give them to the prince, and hell reward us in gold.


    Show us, the old soldier demanded in Nordspeech, pointing his spear at the scroll case.


    The rider seemed hesitant, but surrounded by sharp points on all sides proved persuasive. Slowly, one hand opened the case to pull out sheets of parchments.


    The soldiers grinned seeing this. Well be rich, boys, once we give it to the prince!


    Wait. The veteran raised one hand to calm hispanions and spoke again to the rider. What is that? he asked in Nordspeech with narrowed eyes. Thats not city.


    Im an engineer from the guild in Fontaine, came the reply. This is a weapon I will build for yourmander. With this, he will win every siege quickly.


    What did he say? asked one of the mercenaries. I couldnt make sense of it, he speaks so fast.


    He builds machines for sieges, the greybeard exined. Hes not got any ns of the city.


    My gold! someoneined.


    No gold for us.


    So what do we do with him?


    The ostensible leader of the group seemed to chew through the options. Take him with us. If this is a ploy, let the mamluks deal with him. You, he added in Nordspeech, leave your horse. Walk with us back. We take you to prince.


    cing the parchments back in the casing, the rider dismounted rather ungracefully. One soldier grabbed the reins, and the small group began the walk back to the camp.


    ~~~~


    The mercenaries led the engineer to the princes tent and had an exchange with the mamluks guarding it. More words ensued, including some of the guards entering the tent and returning soon after; at the end, the engineer was forcefully seated on the ground and made to wait.


    An hour passed where the northerner received neither food nor drink, only suspicious nces. Eventually, one of the mamluks barked some harsh words in Suthspeech and pulled the engineer up to stand. The scroll case was torn away and quickly examined, along with a quick search for weapons. Looking for any hidden des, the mamluk suddenly stared intently at his prisoner beforeughing. Finally, the guards led their prisoner inside the tent.


    Seated on a chair, Prince Saif watched the neer with his advisor Adherbal standing behind him. The mamluk gave the scroll case and its contents to the prince while two other guards held the northerner by the arms.


    Slowly, Saif unfurled the parchments, staring at the designs of a strange weapon. Who are you? he asked in Nordspeech.


    Watch this, sidi, dered one of the mamluks, pulling the engineers cap off. Long hair was revealed, which along with the beardless face led to one conclusion.


    I am Nicole from Carcas, an engineer of the guild in Fontaine, she proimed.


    The mamluk tightened his grip on her arm. You address a prince.


    Nicole bowed her head. Your Highness. That is my stone thrower. With her arms held, she could only nod in the direction of the parchments in the princes hand. It will make a mockery of anything your own engineers might build.


    Those are strong words, Saif said. You can imagine your fate if they prove to be mere bluster. If I am inclined to believe you in the first ce. It seems far more likely you are a spy.


    If so, Your Highness, I would be a bad one, attracting this much attention, Nicole imed.


    The princeughed. True. But the right spy could make that work. This is your invention? He rustled the parchment in his hands.


    The weapon was created by my husband-to-be, Armand. But I helped with the calctions, ensuring it would work.


    Why is he not here to present it, in that case?


    The guild killed him, out of jealousy. Stole his weapon, Nicole eximed with sudden anger.


    But not you.


    They did not know of my involvement, I suppose. Or they underestimated me. I am a woman, after all.


    Yet you im to be from that very guild of engineers, Adherbal interjected.


    Yes, Nicole nodded. I was given Armands apprenticeship, as is custom. I learned the craft as he had done, though my master never taught me of siege weapons. I had to learn that on my own, in secret, until I could remake Armands masterpiece.


    And what happened to him, exactly? You im he was murdered, Adherbal said.


    My master, Master Lambert, always acted odd when I mentioned Armand. One night, I got him drunk and made him reveal the truth. That fearing his weapon, the guild had Armand killed. Nicoles features became twisted in hatred, seeping into her voice. I fled Fontaine that same night.


    And came here? Saif raised an eyebrow.


    No, Your Highness. You seek to find falsehood in my words, but I tell no lies. News of your arrival couldnt have reached Fontaine yet in order for me to travel from there to here already, Nicole pointed out. I went to Herbergja, hoping to take a ship elsewhere and sell my service as an engineer.


    Yet you are here, Saif said.


    Traffic became disrupted as most ships set sail for war in Thusund, while winter kept the remainder in harbour. And when war threatened Herbergja itself, I thought it best to make myself scarce. I fled south, reached Portesur, and heard of Your Highness arrival, Nicole exined, sounding a little out of breath. Her arms were still restricted, leaving only her hands to fidget. And I thought, who better to make use of Armands weapon and take revenge on his behalf?


    That will be your payment, is it? asked the prince. Revenge?


    And gold as befits my services as engineer. Your Highness.


    Saifughed again. We shall see. You have yet to exin, let alone prove, what your weapon is capable of.


    A typical stone thrower works on torsion, Nicole exined. The power and range of such a weapon is limited to the tensile strength of the material. My weapon works on counterweights, she continued. The only limit is how big you can build it. It can throw stones at such size to break down walls at such distances, you are safe from the defenders.


    The prince exchanged a look with his advisor. That strains credulity, Saif finally said.


    Give me a chance to prove my weapon, and I shall make believers of you all, Your Highness.


    The prince exhaled. What do you require?


    Lumber. The best that you can provide, Your Highness, long and strong beams. And a cksmith with the skill to forge the metal parts of my weapon.


    That might be an issue, Adherbal quickly said. The lumber in camp is already cut to fit our own siege machines, and we have chopped down every nearby tree for our palisades.


    How many ships do we have left? asked Saif.


    Three, sidi, but we use them to patrol the coast, the advisor pointed out, speaking in Suthspeech. And they remain our only defence or means of  rapid departure, should the northernerse.


    Whether we have two or three will make little difference, the prince replied in the same tongue before returning to Nordspeech. You may have one of the ships. They are made from strong, northern wood. Fitting for our purpose. He gave a sardonic smile.


    I shall not disappoint, Your Highness. Still restricted, Nicole gave an awkward bow with her head.


    Escort the engineer and ensure she has what she requires, Saifmanded the mamluks by her side, who eased their grip on her. He spoke again, in Suthspeech. Keep her under close watch. Kill her if she raises your suspicion.


    Yes, sidi, the mamluks replied before ushering Nicole from the tent.


    ~~~~


    The other engineers in camp reacted in one of three ways to Nicoles arrival. Some had nothing but disdain for a northerner. Others had nothing but disdain for a female engineer. The remainder were delighted to meet someone taught by the famous guild of Fontaine. With the aid of thest grouping, Nicole set to work. A ship was disassembled and the logs of wood repurposed. Due to their bent shape, it required great efforts to salvage them into being useful for their new purpose, but given the engineers had no other tasks, they were only too pleased with the challenge.


    The cksmiths brought along, otherwise meant for repairing armour, forging weapons, and shoeing horses, had new work as well. Great chains to hold the massive counterweight needed to be made, along withrge nails that could support the entire construction. Finally, the intricate mechanisms that could lock the counterweight in ce, holding back the tension and allow the release of boulders big enough to destroy walls.


    Setbacks and unforeseen issues cropped up. None of those involved had ever built a stone thrower of this manner before, and the journey from parchment to functional weapon proved difficult. Logs turned out to be worn by prior use of sailing on the sea and had to be discarded and reced. Raising the actual construction and fastening it together took several tries. But despite mounting difficulties, the work continued.


    ~~~~


    In the end, it took Nicole and her aides seven days to finish the weapon, and each night, the assisting southern engineers took copious notes in order to replicate the weapon in future sieges while being scorned by the hostile craftsmen for wasting their time. But a week after her arrival, the stone thrower was ready to be tested.


    Near camp, a vigey. The inhabitants had fled at the first sight of Alczars fleet, and half the houses had been pulled apart to supply the mercenaries with material to fortify the camp. Still, some houses of various size remained standing, even if they seemed more or less derelict now.


    Almost three hundred and fifty paces away, Nicoles stone thrower had been constructed. It was smaller than originally anticipated, constrained by the limited supply of usable timber. All the engineers, whether they expected sess or failure, had gathered to witness the first attempt. The prince, his advisor, and a sizeable number of mamluks also stood in attendance; several of thetter carried bows and had arrows within reach.


    With a few anxious nces at the armed warriors in yellow, Nicole directed herbourers to move arge rock into the pouch of the stone thrower. Release! shemanded. An engineer pulled the locking mechanism to open. The great construction groaned as its restrained force was unleashed. The great counterweight fell down, sliding the pouch along the ground before raising it into the air. Finally, the projectile inside flew out, hurling in an arch across the sky before smashing into the vige. One of the houses copsed.


    Again, the princemanded. Another rock was ced into the stone thrower andunched. Again. After a while, the vige was all but obliterated. Saif turned towards his advisor. Add her name to the list of engineers with an extra payment of ten crowns for bringing this weapon to us.


    Yes, sidi.


    The prince turned towards Nicole. You must learn ournguage. Once this war is over, you will return to Alczar with us.


    Very well, Your Highness.


    The prince left with his retinue. He barely had his back to the engineers before they began an eager and loud discussion, examining the stone thrower.

 Chapter 194: Black Blades and White Walls

    Chapter 194: ck des and White Walls


    Surcoats with red hawks and ck swords stalked each other across the openndscape north of Middanhal. With winters end, the armies of Isarn and their allies had left the jarldom and marched south-east once more. For weeks, the northerners had shed with mercenaries in the employ of Vale. Thetter, unwilling to give battle against an army under Athelstansmand, had instead spread out their forces, engaging into minor skirmishes and always swiftly retreating. This had slowed the advance of Isarns armies; with their scouts and vanguard always under risk of attack, they had to move more cautiously and in greater numbers.


    Yet unwilling to face Isarn on the field, the Red Hawks could only dy their enemy, never defeat. Isenharts own kinsmen began leading patrols, delighting in the encounters with Vales mercenaries. Not only Athelstan himself took the field, but also other renowned wolves of Isarn, among them the jarls son Eumund and his cousin Athelbold with his own son, Athelgar.


    The final defence took part just north of Middanhal before thest Red Hawks had to retreat into the city. As they did so, they abandoned northern Adalrik to the rebels, including Theodstan, now severed from its allies in the south.


    ~~~~


    Some miles north of Middanhal, Isarn made camp. Given this could still be considered contestednd, they did so with great caution, posting countless sentinels and deploying many scouts; even if Vales forces had been sent on the retreat, the capital was certain to be filled with enemy troops, and vignce was paramount.


    Time did not permit palisades to be erected before darkness would fall, and instead, Athelstan hadmanded trenches to be dug interspersed with spikes. This would protect against cavalry charges and break up enemy infantry formations, should any nightly assaults be attempted. Eumund, trained by the Order same as his uncle, walked the outskirts to inspect with stern eyes for any vulnerabilities. He leapt into the trenches, ensuring they had sufficient depth; if not, he scolded the men for their hasty work andmanded them to continue digging. He examined the spikes, at times correcting their angle or how deep they sat in the ground. If any seemed to hesitate or make quiet grumblings, the former knight was swift to chastise them with threats of thesh; he never needed to repeat himself.


    Cousin! The call came from Athelgar. Your father wants us to attend him.


    I am nearly done, Eumund replied, ncing ahead at the primitive defences yet to be surveyed. Darkness will soon fall.


    If you are willing to suffer your fathers displeasure, by all means, go ahead, his kinsman said. As for me, I do not intend to dy. With another look ahead and dissatisfaction on his face, Eumund turned and walked swiftly to catch up to Athelgar. I do not see your concern, in any case, thetter spoke again. We have not seen sign of Vale or his southern swords for miles.


    We may be safe tonight, but if we are to remain camped here, we must tighten our defences. With Vale on one hand and Theodstan on the other, we are exposed.


    If that is the case, you may continue flogging the men with your tongue tomorrow, Athelgar pointed out.


    I suppose.


    Wait, why would we remain in this ce? Surely, we must be moving east to strike at Theodstan. I am certain that will be my fathers counsel. Same with Athelstan.


    Eumund gave his kinsman a quick look. It is not for them to decide.


    But what could be gained


    Save it for the council, the jarls son suggested, and they walked onwards in silence.


    ~~~~


    In Isenharts tent, his closest rtives had gathered; all those who served asmanders of his armies and gave counsel when called upon. With the enemy pushed back to Middanhal, Isarns first goal had been achieved; as spring and the next season for campaigning arrived, his jarldom and thends of his allies were safe.


    As Eumund and Athelgar entered, the jarl gave a quick grunt. Should anyone feel as if we have achieved anything, let me remind you of this, Isenhart spoke with his usual anger lurking in his eyes. By pushing Vale back to Middanhal, we have only restored control of our ownnds. We have yet to put the hurt on our enemy.


    We are in the position to do so now, Athelstan remarked.


    After far too long a dy, the jarl spoke with a menacing voice. No more dys. We begin the siege of Middanhal immediately.


    Everyone looked at Isenhart with surprise. That is beyond us, Athelbold finally dered while his son scoffed behind him before quickly avoiding Isenharts gaze.


    He is right, Athelstan assented. We cannot starve the city out, and any direct assault is doomed to fail.


    You cowards invite defeat by dering it! the jarl sneered. If you value bearing the name Isarn, you will choose your next words carefully.


    Father, Eumund said with a slow voice. It is our duty to counsel you.


    Yet all your counsel has yet to win me this war.


    Nor has it lost you this war, his brother pointed out. Our advance has made Theodstan vulnerable, and we might


    Theodstan! Isenhart spat out. Am I to spend the year besieging his mountain cave? Even if I take that forsaken rock, it will not bring me victory in this war!


    It will force an ally of our enemy to switch sides, Athelbold said, taking a step to stand next to Athelstan. With full control of northern Adalrik, we may even persuade the hignders to join.


    Empty words! The jarls intense eyes stared at each of his kinsmen. Those pathetic ns will never join. The siege begins tomorrow. Begone, all of you, and see to it!


    Everyone except for Isenhart swiftly left.


    ~~~~


    As it became night, Athelstan and Athelbold walked the camp. As they were highest in authority save the jarl himself, all hurried to get out of their way. Not that the pair of cousins seemed to notice; they moved with quick steps without paying much attention to their surroundings.


    They reached a small tower that had been raised to serve as post for sentinels. At present, it was little more than a raised tform, but it did offer some seclusion. The two ascended up thedder to find a soldier keeping watch. Leave us, Athelstanmanded. The warriorplied without hesitation.


    What are your thoughts?


    The jarls brother stared towards the south. The darkness hid the Weolcan mountains, but on a clear day, one might see as far as the white walls of Middanhal. An assault will be a massacre. This is not open battle. There are no manoeuvres nor trickery that will get us past those defences. They know to expect us.


    Athelbold took a deep breath. I agree. Forcing Theodstan to join us and promising the hignders enough to do the same remains our only option.


    That might give us a chance. Athelstan ran his hand through his hair. However fickle it might be.


    How do we persuade him?


    I do not know. If our preparations for the siege go poorly and drag out, his impatience may work in our favour. Marching on Theodstan instead might seem like a better prospect, promising immediate action rather than further waiting, Athelstan spected, looking at his cousin.


    Athelbold nodded. I will work on him bit by bit. Start by suggesting scouting into Theodstans territory, keeping us safe. Escte to raiding parties and ensure he sees them as sessful. Make him amenable to the idea of attacking Theodstan.


    I will avoid the subject entirely. If we both bring it up, he will be suspicious.


    We do it the same way we convinced him to hire the forester bowmen, only reverse, Athelbold suggested. This time, I will nt and grow the seed while you wait for him to ask you in council.


    Agreed.


    Athelstan. He hesitated a moment. What if even gaining both Theodstan and Heohlond will not be enough? What do we do if Middanhal cannot be taken? You know that he will never back down.


    The jarls brother turned his gaze southwards once more. We will spend that coin when the timees.

 Chapter 195: Written in Ink

    Chapter 195: Written in Ink


    With his fellow Hawks, Jorund passed through the gate to the Citadel, soon reaching their quarters. The mood was subdued; even if no battle had been lost against Isarn, this was a clear retreat. None of Vales forces remained north of Middanhal, and their ally, Theodstan, had been abandoned. With low spirits, the Hawks simply tended to their wounds and washed the dust of the road from their bodies, seeking food and rest.


    Jorund likewise cleaned and dressed himself in new clothes, seeking food. Yet once he had satisfied his immediate needs, he did not seek a cot like the others. Instead, he walked the long path up the tower to reach the royal library. Outside, a pair of kingthanes stood watch. Seeing the Dwarf, one of them sighed and walked inside, exchanging brief words while the other guard red at Jorund.


    Momentster, the kingthane returned. You may enter, he said with a sour expression.


    Much obliged, Jorund replied, grinning as he walked past them; once inside the library, he made a show of closing the door.


    Jorund! Kate dropped the quill in her hand, disturbing the letters she had been practising while Inghard looked up from his book. The kitchen maid got up and hurried over to hug the Dwarf. Youre back! And in one piece!


    Jorundughed, returning the embrace. Except for the piece already missing, he said, rubbing his head where an ear was meant to be. My prince, he continued, bowing his head to Inghard. Wheres the little scribbler? And the big one, for that matter.


    Egil is with the lord protector, Inghard exined. As for Master Quill, he is in his chamber. He cleared his throat. The winter has not been good to him. He has a persistent cough. We try to keep him warm andfortable.


    I am sure he couldnt be in better hands, the Dwarf dered. Ill catch Egilter, I suppose. I doubt theyll be sending us back out there.


    How was it? Was it very dangerous? asked Kate.


    Battling the wolves of Isarn at every turn? Jorund said, giving his own question as reply. Im lucky their fangs didnt take myst ear!


    Or your tongue, Kate suggested with a teasingughter. I think you would miss that more than eyes or ears!


    The youngss is sharp with her own tongue! the Dwarf shot back. I suppose you arent interested in hearing about the night where I saw Athelstan of Isarn himself, or when a foresters arrow nearly gave me a new nostril!


    You can be quite calm, Master Jorund, Inghard dered. You may act as if we have vexed you, but we are wise to your tricks. We all know you are dying to tell us.


    Jorund scowled for a moment before bursting withughter. If my prince wasnt a prince, Id call him a rascal, but a clever one at that! And the worst part about that night is, I never realised it was Athelstan until long after the fighting was over. You see As he settled into his tale, his audience settled into seats in front of him, forgetting about books and letters.


    ~~~~


    Two people sat in the lord protectors office, though neither could see the other. Seated by his desk, the jarl of vale was concealed by tall stacks of ledgers covering thest many years. In a chair opposite sat the Quills apprentice, holding a book a quarter his size. With all crimes forgiven, the duke returned to Belvoir, disbanding his armies, and peace returned to Ealond. From the annals of Adal, written in the year one thousand and ny-nine, Egil read aloud. He waited a while in silence. Milord, is it to your liking?


    What? Yes, yes, Valerian said dismissively. Boy,e here. Do you know your arithmetic?


    The youth stood up, carefully closed the book before cing it on his seat, and manoeuvred around the piles of ledgers to stand next to the jarl. Yes, milord, I do.


    Look at these numbers. What do they tell you?


    Egil stared at the parchments with countless calctions scribbled across them. I couldnt say, milord, he replied hesitantly. I dont know what they refer to.


    Well, take this one. This column is taxes paid in thest decade by the weavers guild, Valerian pointed out. This column describes payments received by their members.


    Both seem stable over the years, Egil remarked.


    Yes, but this assumes the guild has been honest with their earnings. I have collected records from the wool merchants, he continued, grabbing other parchments. This is the amount of wool sold in Middanhal in a given year. If we adjust for the increase in price when made into cloth, the weavers should have earned this much, at the very least. He tapped his finger on a number written at the bottom. Do you see, boy?


    Yes, milord, Egil imed, though his voicecked confidence. That is a high number.


    Too high! Or rather, their paid taxes are too low. At least a hundred crowns over thest decade, I would wager, Valerian dered triumphantly.


    That sounds serious, the young scribe said.


    And this is but one guild! Who knows what I may uncover as I delve deeper into the books. The jarl licked his lips.


    Yes, my lord jarl. Do you  do you require anything else from me?


    What? No, no, be off with you.


    Egil collected his book from his seat and left Valerian tob through the ledgers once more.


    ~~~~


    As the Quills apprentice departed from the lord protectors study, he passed through halls and rooms full of Red Hawks, thanes, and the jarls various servants. A strict watch was kept, and few could enter the wing. The alderman of the guilds was one of those; he had often been summoned by Valerian, and the guards let him pass without objection.


    Yet Edwin did not steer towards the study. Instead, the portly alderman walked through the hallways with a smile as awkward as his gait each time he encountered one of the stern guards, until atst he reached a small room. Nothing about the door set it apart from the other chambers in the hallway, but Edwin opened the door swiftly and slipped inside.


    A window high on the wall allowed faint light to illuminate a middle-aged man dressed in a clerks robes. He sat by a small writing desk, making careful little pen strokes into ledgers.


    Arion.


    A start went through the jarls chambein, and he turned around. Master alderman! I did not hear you.


    Because I am quiet, as should you be. Best none learn of our conversation.


    Arion swallowed. Of course.


    You didnt tell me of your return from Valcaster.


    I only arrived today! he spoke with an anxious voice before lowering it. There was no time. I was ordered to Middanhal with all the jarls ledgers. How  how did you know of my return already?


    I have my eyes and ears, the alderman spoke coolly. I presume those are the ledgers? He nodded at the books stacked on the small desk. Concealing your efforts?


    Justying false trails. The jarl is a hound when ites to numbers.


    You are not tempted to confess, are you, dear Arion? The aldermans voice took a caressing tone. Given all you have done, you must know how that will end for you. One way or another.


    Is that why you came? You dont need to threaten me. The chambeins voice sounded defiant briefly before bing anxious again. I would never reveal anything! And Ill keep the jarl in the dark. He gestured with the quill in his hand.


    I am sure. Edwins voice turned cold, just like his eyes. But I came for another reason besides reminding you of your loyalties. I came to offer you help, in fact. My trusted clerk is crafting documents to direct suspicion away from you and onto more  suitable targets.


    Who?


    A guild master that has be troublesome. But you must find a way for the jarl to find these documents, perhaps hidden away in his books. Make him think he made the discovery. The alderman nced at the open book where the chambein had been making changes to the numbers. I dare say my clerks work will be more elegant than yours.


    An excellent n, master alderman, Arion dered. When will the documents be ready?


    Tomorrow, but I cannot return here to bring them to you. If I visit twice in two days without having business with the lord protector Edwin smiled. Someone may wonder what my actual business is.


    How then?


    Our old meeting spot by the north-eastern tower. Tomorrow night. The sooner the jarl stumbles upon our documents, the better. That will also give you a day to learn of his investigations and report back to me. I will not suffer further surprises, Arion.


    The familiar expression of anxiety returned to the chambein. This wing is crawling with soldiers. Someone will notice if I leave. I might draw suspicion onto myself.


    Then it is fortunate that my clerks work will ay those suspicions. Edwin gave a callous smile. Are we understood?


    Hesitantly, Arion bowed his head. We are.


    Now I best make haste myself. I have been here too long.


    Very well, master alderman.


    Edwin gave a curt nod and turned around. After checking that the hallway was empty, he disappeared from the room with barely a sound.


    ~~~~


    Every day, and often into the night, the dragonlords antechambers were full of supplicants seeking private audience. Many had to wait days or longer, depending on their rank or the urgency of the matter they sought to discuss. Only two people could stride through those rooms without dy. One was his brother, the lord protector; the other was the dragonlords wife. Thetter made use of her privilege to push her way through the crowd and enter the study directly.


    Hearing the door open, Konstans looked up. Dearest wife, he greeted her.


    Dearest husband, Matilde replied.


    You have made good speed on the roads to arrive today.


    No thanks to Arion, she grumbled. He dithered for ages preparing your brothers books. I almost had to throw him into the carriage myself.


    What a sight that would be, Konstans remarked with a smile.


    Why has Valerian summoned him? Arion gave only a poor exnation.


    My brother is chasing some miscalction. It seems irrelevant, but it keeps him busy.


    She moved around to sit on the desk, caressing her husbands hair. Your colour is dull. You have been locked away in here for too long.


    As opposed to being outside in the abundance of sunlight we receive during winter, he said with a sarcastic smile. I presume lecturing me that is not the only reason you came to Middanhal. Your letter provided poor exnation as well for why you saw the need.


    Matilde smiled. Does a wife need a reason to look after her husband? My ce is by your side, after all. Konstans gave her a look. Fine. Believe it or not, I have in facte to take you away. Not only from this room, but from Middanhal.


    He frowned. What possible reason could there be for that?


    Now it was her turn to give him a look. The wedding of your son, obviously.


    Seeing as it is my son and not me being wed, my presence is not required.


    Perception matters, Matilde retorted. You decided the wedding should take ce in Valcaster rather than Middanhal


    Because it is our ancestral home, and Middanhal may soon find itself under siege, Konstans interjected.


    But our son cannot get married unless either his father or the head of our house is present. If you are both absent, it casts aspersions upon Konstantine and suggests this wedding is done without your blessing. Not an auspicious beginning to something of vital important to our future, Matilde stressed. Either they must be wed here, or you muste to them.


    The dragonlord sat silently for a moment. Fine. I suppose a wedding on the steps of the Temple is suitable for the lord protectors nephew and the princes sister. It will be a fitting spectacle for the people. But as soon as the matter is over, I want them back in Valcaster. Too many spies and other unsavoury characters in this city.


    I shall make the arrangements, Matilde dered with a satisfied smile. You will be pleased to know I have secured the same remedy we used to conceive Konstantine. Our first grandchild will be a boy, she promised.


    And he will be dragonborn. Konstans smile mirrored his wifes. Her reply was to bend down and kiss him.


    ~~~~


    As the alderman left the wings reserved for the House of Vale, he encountered a limping figure in the hallways. Captain, Edwin greeted him with an inelegant bow.


    Master alderman, Theobald replied with a gruff voice. Yet another meeting with the lord protector?


    Something like that, Edwin imed, fiddling with the golden chain across his bulging stomach. What brings the valiant captain of the city guard to this wing? he quickly asked.


    I have my own meeting. With a nod as curt as his response, Theobald walked onwards.


    Edwin stood aside, pressing his back against the wall with a servile expression. Once the captain had limped past him, the aldermans face twisted into disdain for a brief moment before he continued as well.


    He moved to the general quarters shared by the courtiers until he knocked at a certain door. A handmaiden opened and inclined her head in greeting. It is the alderman, mdy, she said, turning her head back into the room.


    In that case, do not keep the good master waiting on our doorstep, Arndis replied from within. The handmaiden stood aside, letting Edwin enter.


    Mdy, he replied with a bow and a smile. Always a pleasure.


    Likewise, she said, standing up to greet him. Next to her, Eleanor did the same.


    Matters may proceed on the new shipment of tin, the alderman exined. If herdyship has a few moments to spare?


    Arndis looked at Eleanor. I will take a walk in the gardens, thetter said. Join me, Jenny, she added, leaving with the handmaiden.


    Please, continue, Arndis bid the alderman.


    Stepping forward, Edwin took out a piece of parchment. As agreed, your coin will pay for one fourth of the shipment. With your permission, the gold will be withdrawn from your books at the merchants guild.


    The noblewoman read through the document in silence. Just one moment, she requested, cing it on a table. She disappeared into her room briefly, returning with a quill and inkwell. She signed her name and handed the feather pen to the alderman, who did the same, acting as witness.


    Excellent, Edwin dered, gently blowing on the ink. Profits should be handsome. Which does raise the question how to best spend said profit.


    Arndis gave a knowing smile. I did wonder why the good alderman came to me in person rather than send a messenger.


    Herdyship knows me too well, he replied with a sly smile that fit poorly on his round face. Given this tin is destined for Vidrevi, it would be a simple matter to buy quantities of cheap iron in Isarn. A metal that, while this war continues, has reached high prices in Middanhal.


    I assume the return route would be the same as the outward journey, Arndis said.


    s, the war means we have no choice but to transport it through Trehaf and Herbergja. And changing hands so many times, documents may be misced or copied in error.


    Making it impossible to determine the origin of the metal.


    Not to mention, driving up the price further once it finally arrives here, the alderman added with regret.


    Of course. Arndis frowned in thought. You will spend your profits in this manner?


    Edwin nodded. As will the other merchants in the venture.


    Did you prepare a document?


    The alderman smiled and pulled out another piece of parchment. Of course.


    Arndis received it, giving it a quick look. No mention where the iron will be bought.


    No need to specify, I thought. After all, once the iron arrives, our traders will bring the appropriate documents proving its origin. Edwins smile could not have been bigger.


    Arndis picked up the quill from the table and signed the parchment; Edwin did as well. A pleasure to do business, as always.


    The alderman bowed his head. The pleasure is all mine, mdy.


    ~~~~


    In the evening, an unassuming shape slipped into the library; even the great door did not croak as it opened and closed. Busy at work writing in the annals, Egil did not notice his guest. The neer waited until the scribe lifted the quill from a page to give it more ink before he cleared his throat.


    With a start, Egil dropped the feather pen, turning his head. Godfrey, he eximed, gasping for breath. You could have knocked.


    Just keeping you on your toes. The wanderer smiled.


    Where have you been? I havent seen you for so long.


    Godfrey shrugged. Here and there.


    Have youe to see Master Quill? He is asleep, I think.


    I thought as much. How is his condition?


    Egil bit his lower lip. Getting a little bit worse every day, I think.


    In that case, you will have to assist me.


    With what?


    Godfrey adopted a sly expression. We must delve into thews of Adalrik.


    Egil groaned. The door did as well, opening to reveal Inghard. As the prince entered, he cast a curious look at Godfrey.


    Who might you be?


    Hearing the princes question, two kingthanes burst into the room.


    Hes a friend of Master Quill, Egil hurried to say. He is no danger.


    Godfrey extended his empty hands. The thanes looked at Inghard, who nodded, and they resumed their post outside.


    By your age and livery, I must be in the presence of the prince, the wanderer concluded.


    I am. Inghards expression grew only more curious. You do not act like other people when they meet me.


    I am far different, my lord prince, Godfrey revealed. He turned his piercing eyes on Inghard.


    The young man held his gaze for several moments before looking away. There is something strange about you.


    Most assuredly, but you are a good soul. The wanderer smiled, dispelling the stern expression in his eyes. Those are rare.


    Thank you. I think. The prince looked around briefly. I forgot my book. Locating it, he grabbed the item in question and made a quick departure.


    I think you scared him.


    Godfrey did not reply immediately. His eyes remained on the open door as he finally spoke. Tell me what you know of this prince.

 Chapter 196: Written in Blood

    Chapter 196: Written in Blood


    In the small study afforded to him, the captain of the city guard hadpany.


    Something must be done! The speaker was an aged man past eighty years; for thest many of those, he had served as the quartermaster of the Order. These mercenaries will take anything their eyes fall upon, and I have no authority tomand our soldiers to fight them!


    Perhaps that is also best, Theobald muttered. I understand your concern, he quickly added, but we cannot let ite to blows. That would be a disaster.


    And how am I to supply Sir William in Hthiod?ined the old man. All the grain and armaments intended for his camp have been seized. Ill not be able to organise another until harvest.


    Sir William is capable and will know to get supplies from Hthiod itself if need be, the captain argued. Do not let that trouble you.


    Its not simply the supplies. We have a thousand troops trained and armed, ready to march. But without provisions, theyll not get far. Now, that force will have to stay here in Middanhal, eating more supplies and aplishing nothing instead of fighting ounders!


    Given the hostile army outside our walls, having a thousand extra soldiers is hardly an issue.


    If these mercenaries arent enough to defend us, sneered the quartermaster, Id say theyre not only taking Jarl Vales gold, theyre taking him for a fool as well!


    The mercenaries are another reason why I feel morefortable having the city guard bolstered, the captain exined. If a siege ising, those sell-swords will be trapped in the city with little to upy them.


    Fine, the quartermaster conceded. Its not as if I can do anything about it. But captain, you must speak with the lord protector. Its our duty at the Citadel to supply the Order on its campaigns. So far, Ive not fulfilled that duty. A touch of despair could be heard in his voice.


    Theobald sighed. I will seek another audience. He will have to see me sooner orter.


    ~~~~


    As yesterday, Matilde crossed the dragonlords wing to enter her husbands study. Closing the door, she found him seated by his desk, staring into the air.


    You sent for me? She approached, and still he gave no reply nor react to her presence. Only when she moved in front of him did he finally extend his hand. Looking down, she saw a brief missive held by his finger, which she quickly grabbed and read. I thought you sent a man to ensure he never returned, she said, looking up.


    He must have failed, Konstans considered. And now, Adalbrand of House Arnling is back.


    But in Herbergja, far from here. That should hardly warrant such grief.


    Read the remainder.


    Matilde did so, frowning. An alliance with Thusund? That is absurd. It must be a false rumour, nothing more. What could that old codger gain from that?


    King Leiknarr is dead. His daughter sits upon the throne. Things are not as simple as they appear.


    She turned the missive around, looking at it from both sides. There is no further information to exin what this means, she pointed out. Surely your reeve is passing on idle rumours.


    I doubt it. We must assume that Arnling has some understanding with Thusund. This exins why he disappeared into the Reach, Konstans contemted, only to appear in the West. He has gathered allies.


    He is an exile, Matilde countered. He has nothing to offer Thusund, king or queen.


    The dragonlord looked at his wife. Nothing yet, but promises could be made. We both know how dangerous he can be if given an army. Should this queen provide that, I can only think of one promise made in return.


    Matilde widened her eyes. Of course. Why settle for queen of Thusund if you can marry the high king of Adalmearc?


    Athelstan to the north, Arnling to the west, Konstans muttered. We cannot expect to defend Vale, should Adalbrand invade with an army of inders.


    What should we do?


    We must hasten our ns. He looked at his wife. As soon as Konstantine arrives, the wedding will take ce. And sending them back to Valcaster is no longer an option. If we are to be threatened from two sides, Middanhal is at least defensible.


    Mathilde nodded. I shall take care of it. But that does not solve the issue of another invading army.


    I will send emissaries to Dvaros to ascertain the truth of this alliance, the dragonlord dered. Perhaps this queen can be swayed to our cause.


    What of Arnling?


    Konstans exhaled. The sooner he dies, the better. I will find a way.


    ~~~~


    Never you fear, my prince, Jorund dered. The walls of Middanhal are impregnable.


    Yet the city fell to Sir Adalbrand, Inghard argued.


    Because he took the defenders unaware, the Dwarf countered. Theres sentinels posted every twenty feet on those walls. If those dogs of Isarn make any attempt, well see them miles away.


    Sir Athelstan is known to be cunning, the prince retorted. It was him who taught the craft of war to Sir Adalbrand.


    No amount of cunning will help, Jorund imed. With so many soldiers on guard, theres no deceit that can breach those defences. Theyll have to do it the slow and dangerous way, with siege craft.


    But you said the walls are impregnable, Egil interjected, and now youre saying they can breach them with siege machinery!


    The mercenary took a deep breath. Yes, they can get on the walls. And if they do so, theyll be ughtered. Gods, theres more soldiers inside the city than outside. We should be so lucky that theyd try. The war would be over soon after.


    How sure are you of this? asked Kate.


    Steel and stone, the Dwarf eximed, I am beset on all sides. I am absolutely certain, young mistress, he continued. We are safe. Honestly, the things I endure in this chamber. He crossed his arms with a mocked look of indignation, looking around the library.


    Yet youe by every day, Kate pointed out with a smug expression.


    How self-satisfied the young mistress is with that statement, Jorund dered before his exterior cracked into a grin. Yet its true, theres no denying it. I enjoy yourpany, young ones, if for no other reason than it is uplicated.


    The prince frowned. How is itplicated elsewhere?


    I am a Dwarf. Jorund shrugged. The sons and daughters of Men are not keen on mypany. And if I go to my own people, they have only disdain for my chosen profession.


    I didnt realise people didnt like Dwarves, Egil considered. Theres a fair lot of them here in the Citadel, working the smithy and the mint.


    Aye, we can work your forges, but nothing more. Once the gates are to be shut, all those Dwarves are made to leave, Jorund exined. Back to their quarter in the north-western part of town. Im the only Dwarf allowed to sleep in this castle, and only because of this. He thumped the red hawk emblem on his chest.


    But I thought Dwarves wanted it that way, Kate said. Thats what Cook told me. They  you prefer to live with others of your kind.


    It is easier, in some ways, Jorund admitted. But we hardly have a choice. Thew forbids us from owning property, so we can only live where someone will rent to us. Most ces, they dont.


    I had no idea, Inghard eximed. When I am king, I will abolish thatw.


    You are kind, my prince, but you may find it difficult. Many a merchant in this city grows fat, renting homes to my people, Jorund pointed out. Not to mention, the nobility prefers to keep us in our ce. You will find little support.


    What of other cities? asked Kate. Are there no Dwarven cities?


    Dvaros was carved by my ancestors. The old warrior scratched his head where an ear was missing. And Dvarheim in ancient times, though if any of my people remain there, we dont know. I hope not.


    The mood grew sombre in tune with Jorunds voice, and the young people exchanged nces. Ive never heard of that ce, Egil remarked.


    Its not a name often spoken. Dwarves avoid it, for the memory is bitter. And in the tongues of Men, its known as Niheim. Nothing remained of his usual jovial manner, and Jorunds eyes became distant.


    Why?


    We were driven out, by an evil sorcerer. He took our home as his own, for our steel was powerless against his foul magic. A thousand years and five hundred more has passed, and still, we remember.


    That is sad, Kate said, her voice reflecting the sentiment. It reminds me of As her eyes nced over Inghard, her tongue became still.


    The past often is, Jorund simply said. And so at solstice, we sing of the day when we might celebrate in the halls of Dvarheim once more. Yet I doubt that day shalle.


    Could this evil sorcerer still be alive? Its been so many years.


    The Dwarf shrugged. Who knows? Such matters are beyond us. But even if dead, Niheim lies deep in hostilends, and my people are few and scattered. Wed never be able to take it.


    What if you had help? asked Inghard.


    Last time we asked for aid, we received none, Jorund told the youths. While I am loath to admit it, we are a bitter people. Ah, enough! He exhaled. If I desired gloom in dark halls, I would have stayed in Dvaros. Forgive me, my young friends, I think Ill take an early night.


    We should look on Master Quill, Egil said. Hes barely eaten today.


    Ill fetch something from the kitchens, Kate suggested.


    I shall retire as well, Inghard dered.


    One by one, they dispersed, each to their own.


    ~~~~


    The evening had grownte, but the lord protector remained in his study. With candlelight forpany, he continued his search through the books stacked around him like unsteady towers. For now, he had abandoned his foray into the kingdoms ledgers, and instead, he perused his own brought from Valcaster. In particr, he looked at the trade with Alczar.


    He did this byparing two sets of books. The former had been written by his reeve in Alczar, stating the value of all goods bought and sold in that distant city. Thetter book had been written by the clerks of his own warehouses in Middanhal, allowing forparisons and the discovery of discrepancies. Before, the jarl of Vale had never personallypared the ounts, leaving such work to his hitherto trusted chambein; tonight, he went through book after book.


    Arion, the jarl mumbled, what have you done?


    ~~~~


    As night fell, the chambein to the jarl of Vale made his way through the Citadel. The thanes and Red Hawks on watch saw him leave the wing, but as he was not a prisoner, none stopped him. Once beyond the chambers of the nobility, he encountered none further.


    Arion continued for a while, walking through the great castle until he reached a tower. Its only purpose was to provide a vantage point across the city to the south-east. A sentinel stood posted at all times atop the tower, but at its base, the roomy empty. Tonight was an exception; as Arion entered, he found a heavy-set, hooded person waiting.


    The other person stepped forward, pulling their hood down. Moonlight streaming in from a window fell upon his face, revealing him to be the alderman.


    We should hurry, Arion suggested. If my absence is prolonged, itll raise more questions.


    No need to fret. I have the documents here. Edwin pulled out a small bundle from inside his cloak. What of the jarls investigations?


    Hes going through the books I brought from Valcaster. I think Ive thrown him off the scent.


    Im sure. The aldermans voice held little conviction. What else?


    Ive not learned much else. Hes not spoken to me. Arion nced at the door. The documents? Time is scarce.


    With a trace of disdain on his face, Edwin gave the pieces of parchment to Arion. Thetter moved closer to the window, using the moonlight to read through them. This looks good, he admitted. Your man does excellent work.


    He does. The alderman fiddled with a ring on his finger, set with arge emerald. With a few twists, the stone came loose, revealing a pin beneath.


    Wait, is that my name? Frowning, Arion looked at Edwin, just as thetter pushed his ring with its needle against the chambeins hand. What  you scratched me!


    Just a little. Edwin returned the gemstone to the ring, hiding the pin underneath.


    What is this? Whys my name on these documents? If you think Ill be your scapegoat, youre mad!


    I figured that would be your reaction. Which is why I wont leave it in your hands.


    Arion scowled. Ill not be your pawn! Ill tell the jarl everything! Hell know that youre pulling all the strings!


    No, he wont.


    The chambein licked his lips. Sweat appeared on his brow. What  what is this?


    A poison so rare, the ingredients cost me several crowns. The recipees from the Emerald Tower in Labdah, Edwin exined while Arion wheezed for breath. That cost me another fifty crowns just to obtain, but the price has been well worth it.


    You fiend, Arion dered hoarsely. The pieces of parchment fell from his grasp.


    Ive not had opportunity to use it since the old king. I forgot the little pleasure of watching how swiftly it does its work. Such skill, leaving not a single trace. The alderman watched as the chambeins knees hit the floor. It is suffocation, you see. Like strangling a man, but not a single mark on his throat.


    Arion gasped to no avail. His eyes bulged, overflowing with fear. He fell to the ground. With a look that grew empty, he expired.


    The alderman looked at the body for a few moments before moving into action. Quickly, he collected the fallen pieces of parchment and stuffed them inside Arions robe. From an inner pocket, he dug out a golden coin wearing the ship of Alczar rather than the dragon of Adalrik. It went the same way as the documents. Finally, Edwin grabbed Arions arms and began hauling him back to the window. Gasping from exertion, he moved the body bit by bit until it rested against the wall underneath the window. Using all his strength, such as it was, Edwin raised Arion up to lie slumped over the windowsill. With heavy breaths, he took hold of the legs and lifted them as well. His face red, Edwin finally pushed forward until gravity took effect. He barely had time to let go of the chambeins limbs before Arion fell out of the window,nding in the courtyard below. Edwin cast a quick nce down at his work before making his departure, using a piece of embroidered cloth to wipe his brow of sweat.

 Chapter 197: Within the Law

    Chapter 197: Within the Law


    Eleanor came rushing into the rooms she shared with Arndis. Have you heard?


    I have not, replied the other woman. She continued eating her breakfast in a calm manner, cutting cold ham into pieces. What is amiss?


    Lord Vales chambein is dead. He fell from a tower, Eleanor exined, slightly out of breath.


    Arndis movement froze. Like Theodwyn, came her voice softly. Was anyone seen?


    None that I have heard of. Eleanor shook her head. But the castle is rife with rumours already.


    Any that seem credible?


    They are hard to make sense of. The Hthiandy sat down opposite Arndis. He had arrived from Valcaster a few days ago. Bringing the jarls books to him.


    And?


    He was found with torn pages on his body. Apparently, he was concealing something.


    As chambein, he would have had ample opportunity to swindle his master, Arndis considered. If he was involved in something nefarious, it seems nave to consider his death an ident.


    Eleanor leaned forward. You think he was pushed? She whispered the question.


    He was an older man, was he not? Plenty of soldiers in this castle strong enough to overpower him.


    A shiver went through Eleanor. A murderer in the Citadel! That will make it hard to sleep at night.


    Seeing as we have no dealings with the jarl of Vale nor have we ever met his chambein, I dare say we are safe, Arndis remarked dryly.


    Still, herpanion said. These are such unpleasant times. Enemies at our gates, and those meant to defend us are in Hthiod, fighting yet another war.


    With the number of troops in the city, not to mention that we cannot be encircled, I would consider us quite safe, Arndis reassured her. When was thest letter from Sir William? she asked after brief hesitation.


    More than a month ago. Eleanor regarded her. Arndis, he would write without dy if he knew anything of your brother.


    I know. The young woman returned to her breakfast. I know.


    ~~~~


    The captain of the city guard stood nked by two of his soldiers in front of a door. Two Red Hawks blocked his path. Sorry, captain, but we cant let you through.


    You are in my castle, Theobald dered. You will stand aside now!


    We take our orders from the lord protector, the mercenary retorted. He told us to guard this door and let none through.


    You dare to defy me, the captain spoke through gritted teeth. A man is dead in my castle. It is my right and my duty to examine his body!


    The lord protector feels otherwise, clearly, and he outranks you, I should say.


    If you do not get out of my way, I could have the entire garrison hack you to pieces!


    This is our post, replied the Hawk. Both of them lowered their spears slightly to an angle more suited forbat.


    Behind the captain, his soldiers grasped the hilt of their swords. Theobald stood fuming for a moment before he raised one empty hand. Enough. This is not the ce. He sent the mercenaries a spiteful look. Your time ising to an end. He turned on his heel to stalk away, followed by his men.


    ~~~~


    Did you hear? The big door to the library groaned as Kate pushed it open. She found Egil sitting on a bench, staring at the bookshelves. About the jarls man?


    No.


    Hes dead. Not just any servant, an important one. He fell from a window, but they hurried to take his body away, and theyre acting all secretive about it, Kate rted with speed as she approached Egil. Whats that? She pointed at a letter in his hand.


    A question from the dragonlord. He wants to know the process behind stripping title andnd from a jarl.


    His own brother? Kate gasped.


    Egil sent her a disappointed look. Probably the jarl of Isarn, dont you think?


    That makes more sense, she conceded. But the war is hardly won with Isarns soldiers on our doorstep. Whats the point in taking the title away? It wont change anything.


    Not in the war, but it does in the Adalthing, exined the apprentice to the Kings Quill. If he can bestow the northern titles on men loyal to himself, hell have full control of the Adalthing.


    Huh. Kate looked pensive. So what are you going to tell him?


    Ill let you know as soon as I do. Egil exhaled. I have no idea what thew says.


    Well, you can find it in a book, right?


    He pointed at the bookshelf on the opposite wall. Those are thews of Adalrik, he exined with dismay. Numerous heavy volumes stood arrayed. Ill be lucky to have found an answer before solstice.


    Kate bit her lip. What of Master Quill? Surely he knows. He knows everything.


    Maybe, but that assumes hes even able to answer. I cant rememberst time I heard him speak.


    Well, its either that or going through those books.


    Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Egil got up. He walked over and knocked on the door to Quills chamber. Despite receiving no reply, he went inside.


    The sparse room contained only a bed, a small drawer, and a chair. On thergest piece of furniture, Quilly under nkets, wearing a nightshirt. Master Quill, I need your help.


    The scribe looked gaunt to the point of famine, and his skin had turned as pale as bronze would allow. As he opened his eyes, the brown orbs had a yellow tint. Im tired.


    Ill let you rest in a moment, Egil promised, sitting down on the chair. A bowl of half-eaten stew sat on the drawer. But do you know where to find thews on session? Which of the books?


    Did the prince die again? The old mans voice sounded like grains of sand grating against each other.


    No, Master Quill. The dragonlord wishes to know how a jarl may be stripped of title andnds.


    That is simple. The old scribe coughed a few times. He must be dered guilty of high treason by the Adalthing. The king may then bestow the jarldom to a male heir of the former jarl, assuming said heir is not guilty of high treason as well.


    I think in this case, the dragonlord wishes to give the title to a new family.


    If so, the Adalthing must approve. A house cannot be robbed of its title without the consent of the assembly, Quill exined with raspy breath.


    Oh. Thats simple enough. Ill write to the dragonlord. The youth smiled and rose.


    Egil. For the first time, the old scribe turned his eyes to look at his apprentice. You must read the books. You must learn thew.


    I shall, Master Quill.


    Never forget. You are the embodiment of thew. Your person is sacrosanct. A coughing fit interrupted any further derations. Egil grabbed a cup of water next to the bowl and helped the old man to drink.


    You should rest, Master Quill.


    Withboured breath, the scribe sank back into his bed and closed his eyes.


    ~~~~


    Konstans drummed his fingers against the table. I admit, it is a strange hour that he should die. I would not consider it coincidence.


    Right! eximed Valerian.


    But if someone pushed him, I would say they did you a favour.


    The jarl frowned. How could that be?


    You are spared the indignity of his betrayal bing public. Bury him in a paupers grave and let him be forgotten.


    But Konstans, something sinister is afoot!


    Brother, servants cheat their masters. It is a fact of life as certain as the sunrise, Konstans exined with an impatient voice. That is why we only trust family. Be thankful that fate saw it fit to remove this particr servant, saving you the trouble.


    If this ended here, I would be indeed be grateful. But far too many things do not add up.


    Konstans sighed. Such as?


    Arion stole from me. That is obvious from my own books. Yet on his body, we find torn pages proving he is also guilty of stealing from the royal treasury? And a coin from Alczar is ced on his body, suggesting that the real culprits should be sought beyond our borders, Valerian exined eagerly. All of it fits together far too neatly.


    Brother, merchants cheat on their taxes, yet another certainty. If you are so offended by it, you are free to pursue the matter further. Yet I must ask you do this elsewhere and leave me to my own work.


    I shall, the jarl dered loudly, turning around to leave. I shall!


    ~~~~


    As Inghard entered the library with a book in hand, he was greeted by Godfrey, sitting in a chair. You are still here.


    Godfrey bowed his head. Ie and go.


    Where is Egil?


    In the scriptorium, writing a reply to the dragonlord. Godfrey looked at the book in Inghards hands. He tells me you are very fond of stories.


    I am. If I could, I would do nothing but read or hear them all day long.


    I suppose once you are king, that will change.


    Inghard frowned. I guess so. I better make the most of my time now, in that case.


    Godfreyughed a little. That is wise. And in fact, I think I may know a tale or two that you will enjoy. I can promise you, theyll be unlike any you have heard before.


    The prince wetted his lips and finally sat down on a bench, cing his book on the table next to it. What story?


    Godfrey smiled and began.

 Chapter 198: Pieces in Place

    Chapter 198: Pieces in ce


    Theobald looked up as the door to his study opened. The guard standing on post stuck his head inside. Theres a man from Theodstan here.


    The captain of the city guard nodded. Fine. Let him in.


    With a wink to the guard, Geberic walked inside. My thanks, captain, for seeing me.


    Theodoric is my kinsman, albeit distant. Youre his thane, arent you? I recognise you.


    I was, once upon a time, replied the other man. Seeing Theobald frown, Geberic hurried to continue. The jarl released me from his service. I serve another now, whom you once fought with. Whom you helped before under dire circumstances. He has sent me to ask for your aid once again.


    The captains frown deepened, but he did not dismiss his visitor. Who?


    ~~~~


    Three men walked along the Arnsweg just beyond the southern gate. Two of them carried longbows, while the third had only a short sword by his side. Up there, ukos said, and up there. He pointed first at one building, then another across the road while traffic moved around them.


    That should be fine, Nichs remarked. Well be ready.


    Not sure how Im supposed to get into that house and onto the roof, Quentinined.


    Youre a warrior, ukos chastised him. If you cant barge your way through, Ill lose what little respect I might have had for you.


    Fine, Ill be ready. Quentin stamped his bow staff into the ground, looking dour as ever.


    What if theres no fighting tomorrow? asked the other archer.


    Then you join us, ukos exined.


    And if theres fighting? Well run out of arrows eventually, Quentin pointed out.


    Then youll have done what you could. Make your escape and go where your heart takes you. ukos threw up the hood on his cloak and left the bowmen.


    ~~~~


    Every day, a mass of people entered the great Temple of Middanhal. While the city had countless shrines scattered throughout, this was the holiest ce in all of Adalmearc, and people came from all the Seven Realms to offer the gods gratitude or beseech them for help. Because of this, the Temple square overflowed with people all the way up the stairs and into the Hall of Holies.


    Naturally, the Temple had many smaller doors, allowing the priesthoods to enter and leave theplex with ease. As the sun rose in the sky, a small handful of whiterobes made their way through one such entrance. Their ekename seemed a vestige rather than an urate description; their clothes were coloured by dirt from long travels. None of the priests or priestesses, acolytes, or novices remarked on this, either out of courtesy for their faith or respect for the great war hammers each whiterobe carried over the shoulder.


    Even if done in silence, the resident robes watched the neers with great interest and wonder. The priests of the Bear typically found in the Temple wielded quills rather than hammers, being responsible for the library in theplex; even they looked at their brothers from Heohlond with trepidation, reverence, or a mixture of both.


    Caradoc Whitesark, quietly epted as the leader of the group, dly returned the looks with a broad smile. Lets get some food and a wash, brothers, he told the others. Then, well talk to our brethren. Time is short.


    ~~~~


    Several women sat in the chambers where Arndis and Eleanor resided, all of them young. They were daughters of the nobility or handmaidens, sometimes both. Lively discussion took ce concerning all events at court, helped along by barely diluted wine.


    A quiet knock on the door went unheeded among the choir of voices until repeated louder. Finally, Arndis handmaiden opened the door. Finding a warrior outside, she took a step back beforeposing herself, inquiring as to the nature of the visit. Once she had received a reply, Jenny walked over to whisper into her mistress ear.


    With a doubtful expression, Arndis rose and walked over to the door. Seeing Geberic in the doorway, she flinched. Casting a look inside the room, she decided to step outside and close the door behind her.


    What news? she asked hoarsely.


    Geberic looked down the hallway in either direction. This isnt the best ce to talk.


    Follow me. Arndis went down the corridor and chose a room to enter. The current upant is in my chamber at present. We can speak in here.


    Geberic followed her, casting nces before stepping inside. Your brother has sent me.


    I figured as much. Where is he?


    Outside the city. Im to bring you to him. And take all the coin you can. You may not get a second chance.


    Whats he nning? asked Arndis.


    Hell want to exin it himself, mdy. He gave me simple orders. Bring you to him without drawing attention, and bring all your coin with you.


    The young woman looked at the door. Whatever is happening, I cannot leave Eleanor behind. Not if there is danger afoot.


    I suppose whether the carriage has one or two passengers make little difference.


    You have a carriage?


    Geberic gave a wry smile. Thats one of the things we need the coin for. I spent myst silver getting into the city.


    ~~~~


    You summoned me, my lord. The captain of the Red Hawks stood in the dragonlords study, watching Konstans expectantly.


    I have a task for you of a different nature than typical. Seeing as your men are idle in the city, I have use of them.


    We are ready to serve, my lord.


    Do you know of Adalbrand of House Arnling?


    I have heard of his reputation and that he is an exile.


    Konstans nodded. Indeed. He has many who are loyal to him. Brigands and the like. I have been told some of his men have been seen in the city.


    The mercenary stepped closer. You wish for us to apprehend him?


    I do. The dragonlord pushed a small bag over the desk. This will help pay for information.


    You do not wish the Order to handle this?


    I do not consider them trustworthy in this matter.


    The captain picked up the bag. It shall be done.


    Konstans narrowed his eyes. Where are you from, captain?


    I hail from Alczar, my lord, same as most of the men in mypany.


    Good. You will not have problems with this next part.


    Which is?


    When you find any of Adalbrands men, you ensure they lead you to the viin himself. Return to me with proof of his demise, and another bag of equal worth will be yours.


    The mercenary gave a grim smile. Consider it done.


    Use discretion, captain. I do not wish for any to learn of his fate or how he met it.


    As youmand, my lord. The Red Hawk bowed his head and left to gather his men.

 Chapter 199: Till Dragons Rise

    Chapter 199: Till Dragon''s Rise


    From the mountain of Wyrmpeak, meltwater flowed down and fell as a waterfall into the eastern end of Middanhal. Here, it became the great river of the Mihtea, passing through the city before disappearing underneath the mountain of Valmark in the western end. For several miles, the Mihtea continued underground before appearing again south-west, providing thest source of freshwater before reaching Middanhal itself.


    It wasmonce for wanderers and caravans to make camp at this ce before making thest stretch of the journey to the capital, sticking together for safety andfort. One smallpany stood out among the other groups. Most travellers were craftsmen and their families, looking for work, merchants with their guards transporting goods, or pious people seeking the Temple. Yet this band had no children with them nor anything worth selling. By their rough demeanour, they did not appear to be motivated by faith either. Several of them bore weapons, including one of the women; as they had nothing worth guarding, this suggested them to be mercenaries, selling only their sword arm. As a consequence, the other travellers kept their distance.


    With his hood up, Brand walked up and down the banks of the Mihtea. As he avoided thepany of other travellers same as they did towards him, he only had a small patch ofnd to pace about. Several times, his hand moved in absent-minded manner up to run through his hair before he arrested the movement, adjusting his hood.


    Patience was never his strong suit, Jana remarked watching him. She sat on the ground along with Gwen, while ric kept watch with harsh nces to discourage any from approaching.


    The other woman looked at herpanion rather than Brand. You know him well, do you.


    For many years when we were children.


    People change as they grow older. If not age, then experience will cause that.


    Very true. Jana smiled at Gwen. I barely resemble who I wasst year. I have done and seen so much I never could have imagined. The same holds true for you, I am sure, following Brand.


    The hignder crossed her arms. I follow him because he is my kin.


    Given what little family he has, Brand is fortunate to count you among them.


    Why have you followed him into exile? Gwen asked. From what youve said, the cost was high.


    Janas eyes flickered towards the man in question. He needed help. I could not stand aside.


    A man appeared from the direction of the city. ric narrowed his eyes until he rxed his posture. ukos returns, he said, leaving the women to reach Brand. Thetter returned with him, watching as theirpanion approached.


    How did it go? Brand asked swiftly even while the other man was still walking towards them.


    Everyone has their position, ukos dered with his growling voice. Not that it reassures me. With the northern gate closed, Saltgate is packed. If fighting erupts, it will be chaos with lots of unarmed people caught in the middle.


    Let us pray it does note to that, Jana said quietly.


    At least there are only Order soldiers on the walls, ukos continued. They have not let the sell-swords take control of that. But captain, you should know I saw plenty of mercenaries on the streets.


    To be expected. Isarn has driven them all back to the city.


    A shame they are camped far to the north, ric said.


    Better they are on the streets than in the Citadel, Brand mused. If we act swiftly, their presence will not matter.


    Hispanions did not appear assuaged by his words.


    ~~~~


    Hourster, when the evening had begun to wane, a trio of travellers appeared. This time, Brand did not remain waiting, but hurried forward to approach them. Almost a year after theirst parting, Brand could embrace Arndis once more.


    Brother, she smiled, blinking tears away. Were I not so happy to see you, I would chastise your reckless behaviour ining here.


    Circumstances could be worse. I recall us meeting in a cell once, Brand replied; his voice almost sounded normal. Lady Eleanor, he added, bowing his head.


    Lord Adalbrand. She returned the courtesy.


    You know most of mypany already, Brand continued, directed at Arndis.


    Of course! Gwen, so lovely to see you again. She sped hands with her kinswoman.


    The only person new in our number would be Lady Jana of Alczar. He extended one hand towards the princess, who epted it and moved forward.


    Curiosity overtook Arndis face briefly. Delighted.


    Likewise. Jana gave a bow.


    While I am intrigued, the pertinent question seems to be why you havee?


    Brand took a deep breath, looking at his sister. Tomorrow, I intend to enter Middanhal and remove Jarl Vale from power.


    Eleanor released a nervous chuckle while Arndis returned her brothers look. Brand, I have the highest regard for your abilities, but I see you surrounded by five people. Four swords, she added, ncing at Jana.


    My followers are in the city already, he exined.


    Brand, Arndis began with a patient tone of voice, I am not adverse to risk. But surely you understand the danger of entering the city. It is swarming with the lord protectors troops.


    Hence the reason I ensured you are removed from the city, Brand pointed out. Should anything go awry, you will be safe.


    I have spent thest years rebuilding our fortunes, and now you are throwing all that away.


    You have your life and your wealth. Brand nodded at the coin purse in her belt. That is gold, I wager. You can live infort anywhere in the realms, Sister, if that is your wish. As for me, I am done dying the inevitable. My fate lies in Middanhal and only there. He met her gaze with steeled eyes.


    Arndis took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, letting silence fill the space between them. You are determined to do this, I see, regardless of the danger, regardless of the consequences.


    I am. As long as I know my family is safe, I do not fear what happens next.


    What of your followers? Arndis nced at the others who had followed Brand into exile.


    I am sworn to die for my lord, ric dered. If he wishes to enter battle, it is not my ce to dissuade him, but to fight by his side.


    The same goes for me, Geberic said.


    I am looking forward to it, ukos remarked. He flexed the fingers on his sword hand.


    Do not be fearful on our behalf, Brand told his sister. You and Lady Eleanor will stay here, along with Lady Jana and Gwen


    To Hel with that, eximed the hignder. I didnte all this way only to sit outside at the crucial moment.


    Gwen, I need you to remain here to protect the others, Brand requested.


    You know me poorly if you think I will cower outside the walls while you pursue your ends regardless of risk, Arndis said coldly. I am the daughter of kings and will behave as such until my final moment.


    Brand looked at Jana as thest. You will find no sympathy from me, thedy spoke. I have nowhere to go but where you go.


    Arndis, this is foolish, Brand spoke with a clenched jaw, addressing his sister. There is no need for you to endanger yourself, nor lead the others into the dragons den.


    And yet that is my choice. Rather vexing when you make meticulous ns and your wilful sibling appears out of nowhere, frustrating them. Arndis smile evaporated as she turned to Eleanor. But you should stay here. You do not deserve to be pulled into all of this.


    Eleanor shrugged. Honestly, I doubt anyone would even notice me in this crowd. The rest of you tend to draw all the attention.


    Arndis, I will not countenance this, Brand spoke, raising his voice. Same goes for you, he added, looking at Jana. If you enter the city tomorrow, you achieve nothing but cing yourself in needless danger. It is beyond pointless!


    You have made your choice, Arndis pointed out. This is mine.


    If not for me, your head would be on a spike atop the gate of Alczar, Jana told him. I have ced myself in danger time and time again for your sake. You have no right to question my decision.


    Brand looked around at every other person present, but none came to his aid. Fine, Brand dered sharply, I will allow this on one condition. The moment that fighting urs, anyone without a weapon immediately makes for Saltgate and leaves the city. You stay outside. I will send for you when it is safe to return.


    I can ept those terms, Arndis said.


    So be it, Jana added.


    Is there any food? We cant march on an empty stomach. Geberic looked around expectantly until bags were opened and provisions distributed. They sat down and shared a meal with Arndis engaging Gwen in cheerful conversation; the rest ate in silence.


    ~~~~


    As the day waned, the different members of the small band found various ways to keep busy. Jana repaired her clothes with a sewing needle brought from Dvaros. Arndis counted her coin and made calctions with Eleanors help concerning the expenses for a journey to Tothmor. The warriors inspected their weapons and armour to the smallest stitch. From the words exchanged between them all, anticipation mixed with anxiety could be felt building up.


    Gwen, Brand said, beckoning for his kinswoman to follow him. She did so until they were out of earshot. I must ask something of you.


    What is it?


    Tomorrow, should fighting ur, I ce my trust in you to ensure that Arndis and Jana immediately escape.


    They already agreed to do that, Gwen pointed out. As for me, I dont n to run.


    I am aware of both, but tomorrow, with the crowd and the confusion, I am still worried. I need to know that someone will ensure they are both able to retreat out of harms way. You are my blood, Gwen, and I ce those I care most about in your hands. Will you do this for me?


    He kept her eyes locked until she sighed. Fine, she agreed. Though it doesnt sit well with me to make a run for it when the trouble starts.


    I know, and I am grateful to you.


    Gwen waved her hand about in a dismissive gesture. Its fine.


    They returned to the small group, and Gwen sat down among the others. Brand remained standing.


    Geberic, he called out, summoning the greybeard to join him. As with Gwen, Brand led his sergeant some paces away.


    Aye, milord?


    Did you see Sir William or hear of him at the Citadel?


    No, milord, nor did I look. Should I have?


    Brand shook his head. Just curiosity. ukos reported he had left the Order camp in Hthiod, and I wondered where he might be.


    Im sorry I cant help, milord.


    It was not your task. Did everything go as nned with the captain?


    Aye, milord. He promised things would be in ce. Geberic hesitated. I gave him the impression you were only trying to travel north, milord, just as you wanted.


    Good. I understand it may not sit well with you, but I fear the captain would not have aided us if he knew our true intentions.


    Indeed, milord. As silence took over the next moments, Geberic gave an expectant look at his master. Was that all?


    No. Brand lowered his voice. I have a task for you tomorrow.


    Anything, milord.


    When the fighting begins, I want you to make your escape. Leave the city and find the women. Tell them you saw me fall and they must flee.


    Confusion was reced by disbelief on Geberics face. I could never, milord!


    You must. The others will not run unless they believe me dead.


    But milord, what if you require aid? How can we leave without you?


    That sentiment is precisely why you must tell them of my demise, Brand stressed. You cannot afford to dy a moment. Make your way to Hthiod immediately. Queen Theodora will treat you well for my sake, I am sure.


    But milord, if matters go ill, surely we must wait for you! Geberic argued. If we are to flee, we must do so together.


    On the contrary. If our ns fall apart, every soldier in Middanhal will seek to apprehend me. They will scour thend to find me. Your only chance to escape is absent mypany, Brand retorted. Geberic, promise me this.


    Agony appeared on the greybeards face. I am a thane, milord, in my heart. Even if I never swore an oath to you. If theres battle, my ce is next to you.


    Geberic, I need this far more than I need another sword. The risk is already too great for the people I care most about, Brand exined. You have followed me from the beginning, ever since we crossed the Weolcans. I trust you absolutely. You must do this for me.


    If youre going to twist my arm about it Geberic let out a deep breath. Ill do it. Of course I will, milord.


    Good. Thank you. Should we win the fight, I will send for you all to return to Middanhal.


    Theres something else I should do first. The old greybeard knelt with a little difficulty and stretched out one hand. Brand extended his own, letting Geberic press it to his brow. I will to my lord be true and faithful. Your life is my life, your blood is my blood. All my days I shall serve my lord until death may find me, he proimed. By eagles flight from ravens cry, through falcons fall till dragons rise, this oath I swear.


    Geberic from Cragstan, I ept your fealty.


    The thane got on his feet and smiled. Just in case this was thest opportunity.


    Good. Let us get some sleep while we can.

 Chapter 200: The Dragonheart Returns

    Chapter 200: The Dragonheart Returns


    While Isarns army on the doorstep had closed Middanhals northern gate, the southern entry into the city remained busy as ever. From morning until evening, crowds gathered to move in either direction. A garrison of Order soldiers kept watch, charging toll of all seeking to enter, unless they belonged to the nobility or the clergy.


    A small band pushed their way through the crowd outside the walls; as the other travellers became aware of them and saw they were armed, they quickly got out of the way. As Brand reached the gatehouse, one of the sentinels ran inside. Several men wearing the surcoat of the Star hurried outside in response, including the gate lieutenant.


    Thetter walked up to Brand, both of them nked by warriors. I cannot let you pass, the lieutenant dered, his gaze flickering between Brand and his men.


    Do you know me? asked the dragonborn.


    Aye, milord, you are Adalbrand of House Arnling, and you are in exile from thisnd. The lieutenant had his fingers wrapped around his sword hilt, and the Order soldiers grasped their spears with both hands.


    What of you, soldier? Brand asked next, directed at another wearing the star on his chest. Do you know me?


    Yes, captain. I fought with you at Polisals, came the reply.


    Stepping deeper into the gate, Brand looked at the next soldier. And you, soldier?


    Indeed I do, captain. I was at Cudrican where we held the line against Isarns horsemen.


    Brand continued, passing through the gate to approach the Arnsweg inside the city. ukos and ric spread out, observing the guardsmen who in turn had their eyes locked on Brand. Further back, the rest of Brandspany watched along with the crowd of travellers, all of them enthralled at the spectacle. And as the dragonborn moved into the city, so did they, along with the Order soldiers.


    What of you? Brand asked.


    Yes, captain! I fought at Bradon with you!


    And me, captain, I was there when we defended Middanhal against Isarn!


    It''s the Dragonheart!


    Have you returned, captain?


    Is it really you, milord?


    "Have youe back to us?"


    More and more Order soldiers appeared,ing down the walls. As Brand entered the square thaty in front of the gatehouse, he looked up at the surrounding houses. From opposite rooftops, Nichs and Quentin looked back, arrows ready. When both soldiers and travellers stood in a crowd surrounding him, many of thetter being his own followers, he turned to the lieutenant of the gate.


    I am Adalbrand of the House of Adal! he proimed loudly. I havee to im what is mine by birth and by deed, to see this city set free! I ask you again, do you know me?


    The lieutenant stood in the silence until atst, he knelt. I do. I crossed the Weolcans on yourmand to save the city from rebels. He looked up. I would always know you, milord.


    The other Order soldiers followed his example, kneeling. Whether for one reason or another, so did everyone in the small crowd until Brand alone remained standing. He let his gaze sweep over the gathering. Then follow me!


    With jubnt cheers, they did so. Sigvards blood! they shouted, Sigvards blood hase to Middanhal! Brands followers  both those by the gate and those already in the city  gathered around him like a shield, opening a path forward. With more cries and fist beating against chest, the people followed the Dragonheart down the Arnsweg.


    ~~~~


    The crowd became a procession, attracting curious nces and picking up more followers. Once they cleared the Arnsbridge, their numbers quickly swelled. Passing across the Temple square, whiterobes and even those d in yellow or green joined in. Hearing the cries proiming the return of the Dragonheart, every Order soldier in the vicinity did as well. Only the Temrs remained on their post, watching themotion. Any mercenaries in the area were swift to vanish.


    The closer the procession came to the Citadel, the more soldiers of the Order joined. The sentinels at the gate looked rmed as hundreds of warriors marched towards them; hearing the chants, their expressions changed, and they stood aside.


    Brand cast a look over his shoulder at his unarmedpanions, giving a slight nod; as he stepped forward, they remained outside. Surrounded by the warriors that had once entered the Reach with him, as well as soldiers of the Order, he entered the Citadel.


    Anyone already present in the courtyard hurried away. Yet Brand had only crossed half the distance to the inner gate when they opened up from the inside, and Red Hawks issued forth. Hundreds of them swiftly took position, spears lowered in ranks.


    In response, the Order soldiers arraigned themselves and did likewise, mixed with Brands followers and others from the crowd. All had weapons ready.


    Behind the Hawks, Konstans of Vale appeared. I am the dragonlord of Adalrik, he proimed, chosen by thewful ruler of this realm as ordained by the Adalthing. By that authority, Imand you to hand over the criminal Adalbrand of House Arnling and disperse!


    Brand advanced to stand at the front. Your reign is at an end, he retorted with a voice equally loud. As for your mercenaries, unless you value gold over your lives, you willy down your weapons and step aside! I have no quarrel with you.


    If any of the Hawks considered the offer, none seemed inclined to ept it. They remained unmoved, spears ready forbat. The only thing at an end is my patience, Konstans replied. Every man and woman in this yard shall be cut down with impunity, and any that might survive shall be hunted down and hanged as traitors!


    The attention of every persony on Brand. Silence, pregnant with anticipation, covered the enclosure. His fingers stretched out to grasp the hilt of his sword.


    Enough! The smaller doors into the courtyard burst open. Several knights and other Order soldiers strode out, among them Sir William, who had spoken; behind him came Godfrey. Not a soldier here, whether he wears the Star or a hawk, shall draw blood unless on mymand!


    You have no authority tomand my men! Konstans yelled. Unless you are traitors as well, arrest this exile! He stretched out his hand to point at Brand.


    As lord marshal of the Order, I have authority over every soldier in Adalmearc during times of war, William replied as he moved into the middle; his promation caused looks of confusion to spread through the throng.


    Preposterous! imed the dragonlord. Only the king or the lord protector may choose a lord marshal, and neither have done so. This is another seditious lie!


    Godfrey stepped forward to stand next to William; in his hands, he held a bundle of parchments. In times of need, should the Order be without leadership, the remaining marshals may choose a new leader. Here I have signed and sealed documents from every marshal in the realms, all of them approving Sir William of Tothmor as lord marshal.


    That cannot be, Konstans mumbled, but his voice had lost its fury. This is further deception.


    A familiar figure limped forward as well to stand by the lord marshal. On the contrary, Theobald dered, I and other knights in Middanhal has examined the signatures and found them valid. All of us have epted Sir William to assume leadership.


    If so, fulfil your duty and seize this criminal! Konstans demanded, once more gesturing at Brand.


    You do notmand the Order, Brand replied with a cool voice. The only criminal here is you.


    Enough, William reiterated. This must not end in bloodshed. We have too many enemies that we can afford being at each others throats.


    Perhaps, Godfrey interjected, apromise can be found to resolve this peacefully.


    Who is this vagrant that dares to address me? Konstans asked.


    He is my advisor, William dered, and you will heed his words.


    If my lords would relinquish their weapons and approach, we may negotiate a peaceful oue, Godfrey suggested.


    You wish for me to surrender myself to a murderous mob? the dragonlord sneered.


    Brand stood with conflicted expressions until atst he released his hold on the hilt of his sword. Untying his belt, he handed it to ric and took three steps towards the middle, separating himself from his followers. For the realm, he muttered. He gave the dragonlord a challenging look.


    What of you, Lord Konstans? William asked. Will you consign us to bloodshed? I assure you, the Order outnumbers your mercenaries.


    Scraping his tongue against his teeth, the nobleman moved through the ranks of the Hawks with a disdainful expression until he reached the lord marshal and the dragonborn. Speak.


    You have greater enemies inmon than each other, Godfrey began to exin. Isarn is camped outside the city, and the ounders renew their invasion of Hthiod. Meanwhile, Alczar hasnded in Thusund.


    Convenient, Konstans spat. I should forgive this treachery for that reason? I would not be surprised if this traitor is in league with the others!


    Brands face grew red, and he clenched his hands into fists. Continue your speech and all the sell-swords in this city cannot protect you.


    Enough! William dered as before. I will remind you both that every soldier in the realm is under mywfulmand. Forego your pride and let wisdom prevail.


    If I may suggest, Godfrey interceded. I believe I have apromise. It will please neither, but nor will it cause bloodshed.


    Brand and Konstans regarded each other with contempt. What is it? asked the former.


    Summon the Adalthing to restore Lord Adalbrands honour and abolish his exile. He will be a knight once more and can lead the armies of the Order to victory against the ounders, Godfrey exined. Afterwards, those armies may be unleashed on Isarn and finish this civil war as well.


    You consider me a fool? Konstans asked without seeking an answer. He has already sought to overthrow mywful rule by leading this rabble, and you would give him an army to march into this city?


    The army would ultimately be under mymand, William pointed out. I would never allow the Order to be used in rebellion.


    You havee precariously close today, Konstans quickly retorted. Forgive me if I am not convinced by your promises.


    Would you rather I assumemand of your mercenaries and march them all to Hthiod without guarantees of their return? came the reply from the lord marshal. I remind you, such would be within thew.


    Konstans face contorted itself as if he had swallowed a lemon. I may be persuaded on one condition.


    Which is?


    The armies of Isarn must be destroyed first. Once the threat to Adalrik has been removed, you may turn your attention on the rest, Konstans demanded.


    That seems reasonable, given this enemy is already here, William conceded. I would be willing tomit the Orders troops to this task and ensure all our strength can be marshalled to Hthiod afterwards. He looked at Brand.


    Any promise made by the esteemed Lord Konstans is false and empty, the dragonborn dered.


    You need not trust him, but only me, William argued. Brand, I ask you to see reason. You will not have my aid if you instigate bloodshed.


    Anger shed across Brands face before it vanished again. If my honour is returned to me and I am cleared of all false charges, he said slowly, I am willing toy grievances aside for the sake of Adalrik.


    If you both agree to these terms, I shall guarantee them, the lord marshal proimed. In exchange for Lord Adalbrand being restored as a knight, he shall aid me in destroying the armies of Isarn and the ounders afterwards.


    Konstans took in a deep breath between pursed lips. Agreed.


    Brands expression mirrored the dragonlords. Agreed.


    William looked at the crowd of Order soldiers, Brands followers, and ordinary people. You may disperse, he told them in a loud voice. They began to do so at a slow pace. He turned towards the Red Hawks. Same goes for you. Rx your weapons and leave.


    The mercenaries looked at Konstans. He waited until he saw the Order soldiers begin to leave and gave a small nod, upon which they raised their spears. I shall send the summons to the Adalthing. Let it be known thendfrid has begun. He turned around to enter the castle, surrounded by his soldiers.


    Even now, I regret it did note to blows, Brand spoke to William and Godfrey. He deserves to be cut down by my de. Nor do I believe we can trust this viper.


    Hardly, Godfrey admitted. But a battle inside the Citadel would have been a ughter and a gift to our foes. I am surprised you would set upon this course, knowing it could only end in disaster.


    We are beset on all sides by enemies, and for three years, Vale and his brother has only brought us closer to ruin! Brands temper could be seen stirring again. I did as you wanted. I went to the Reach. I went to Alczar. I did all I could, and I aplished little but dying our enemies. I am done with these games! As he spat thest words, the rest of the courtyard seemed quiet inparison. I will do what must be done that we may finally have victory, he added in a more subdued voice. He nced around; the mercenaries and most of the Order soldiers had disappeared. His followers remained, looking confused.


    I understand your anger, William remarked, but I have given my word. I will not allow open strife and bloodshed to erupt in the city.


    Regardless, we have two weeks until the Adalthing. We must make ns. There are many things in motion, Godfrey told Brand.


    To what end? That Konstans of Vale may once more betray his word and send hired daggers after me while I fight to protect his kingdom?


    You have trusted me in the past, and with good reason. While I question your method, I am not opposed to your goal, the wanderer said. Hear me out, that is all I ask.


    Listening to you is fraught with peril of its own kind, Brand muttered, but very well. Let us retreat to my familys house.


    I must stay at the Citadel and ensure my new position is not challenged, William exined. You forced my hand, yet despite it all, I am d to see you, Brand.


    The dragonborn took a deep breath. Likewise. They grasped each others hands, and the knight left. Brand turned towards his band. Let us go.


    ~~~~


    Theyre leaving, Egil eximed. How strange! He sat on a windowsill in the library tower; Kate upied another.


    It looked like they were going to fight, she remarked with a frown. What happened, do you think?


    Some sort of dispute between the Hawks and the Order soldiers?


    I couldnt see who the man among the Hawks was, Kate admitted. Nor that knight. I could only recognise Captain Theobald with his limp.


    I guess the captain resolved matters, Egil spected. But I wish I knew what had caused it.


    I didnt realise there was tension between the Hawks and the Order. She looked at herpanion. Do you think this will happen again? I dont like the thought they might start fighting inside the walls. She shivered a little.


    Its hard to imagine they would, Egil considered. It would be a bloodbath.


    The door to the library swung open; taken aback, the youths practically fell from their perches and hurried to regain their bnce. A thane bearing the emblem of Vale strode in. Wheres the Kings Quill? he demanded to know in a brusque voice.


    He is resting, Egil replied, ncing at the door to Quills chamber. I am his apprentice. What is the need?


    The dragonlord has decreed that the Adalthing must assemble in two weeks. The Quill must send the summons immediately.


    It shall be handled at once, Egil promised. The thane gave a curt nod and vanished.


    Kate stared at the open door before looking at the young man by her side. Should we tell master Quill?


    I doubt it would do any good. Well have to get it done between the two of us. They entered the scriptorium and set to work.


    ~~~~


    A band of about sixty people left the Citadel, moving north-east through Middanhal. Whether due to their weapons or angry expressions, everyone else was quick to get out of their way. Brand walked in the front with Godfrey to one side.


    This was your grand scheme? asked Brand. To have William made lord marshal.


    You sound dismissive, Godfrey replied. I have crossed the realms north and south, east and west to see this done. This will finally allow a concerted effort to stop the Godkings armies.


    And afterwards? We are to leave Adalrik in the hands of these scoundrels?


    No. I had intended to wait until victory against the Godking had been achieved, but my ns must be moved forward.


    No doubt you have schemes within schemes, but we have been here before. Last time that Konstans of Vale promised to see me restored, he had me exiled and sent a hired murderer against me.


    I see why you may feel aggrieved, but greater things are afoot. Godfrey lowered his voice. An army of twenty thousand ounders has crossed the Langstan. The Order is fighting skirmishes to dy their advance, but another thirty thousand can be expected to follow.


    Brand blinked. Fifty thousand in all? The Order army is one tenth of that. They will be overrun.


    Hthiod will soon be lost, Godfrey concluded. Once that happens, Adalrik is next.


    And still we fight among ourselves. Yes, I am aware of the irony that I should make this statement.


    Godfrey snorted. If you can make this realisation, others can as well. I intend for the ckrobes to be busy spreading the word. People must be made aware that we face a far greater threat.


    Arndis appeared by Brands side, taking his arm. Will you not introduce me to yourpanion, Brother?


    He grimaced briefly. Arndis, this is Godfrey. He is a  traveller. He ensured Sir William was appointed lord marshal.


    I recall the two of you sharedpanyst you were in Middanhal, Arndis said.


    Excellent memory, mdy, Godfrey remarked.


    I would not have expected Sir William to have a reeve such as you, advancing his ambitions, she continued. Or perhaps another puts coin in your purse?


    I bring the tide, mdy, to raise many ships. Godfrey smiled. Which currently means preparing for the Adalthing.


    Ahead, the small mansion owned by House Arnling came into view. First, we set up quarters and make ourselves secure, Brandmanded. I want the same vignce as when we camped in the Reach, he added over his shoulder, ncing at Jana. Around him, his followers affirmed his order, and soon they began preparing the house for defence.


    ~~~~


    The dragonlord had issued a refusal of all audiences for the foreseeable future, regardless of who the petitioner might be. This meant besides his personal servant, only his brother and his wife stood a chance to see him. Thetter entered his study, finding her husband studying lists of names.


    I can scarcely believe it, she said, approaching him; she walked and spoke without her usual fervour. The audacity of this upstart dragonborn.


    I underestimated him, Konstans admitted. I knew his propensity for taking risks, yet I never imagined he would dare to march straight into Middanhal. Who knows? Perhaps he would have seeded, had our new lord marshal not intervened.


    Another unwee surprise, Matilde remarked. Another attempt to wrest power from us. Can we even be certain his appointment is legitimate?


    The knights believe so, which is what matters. For now. Arnling had help with this little insurrection, Konstans considered. The Order was far too willing to join him. Once the Adalthing is done, we must purge the Citadel of his loyalists.


    She nced at his lists. Do you doubt the loyalty of them?


    The dragonlords face twisted in contemtion. Not as such. After todays event, we should have their full support when I demand the execution of this traitor. His dragonborn blood will not save him, nor will thendfrid. He will leave the chamber of the Adalthing in chains and be strangled in the dungeons, Konstans dered darkly.


    Matilde caressed his hair. Another obstacle removed.


    He leaned into her touch. One less dragonborn in the world.

 Chapter 201: Swift Negotiations

    Chapter 201: Swift Negotiations


    With the enemy near, the northern gate in Middanhal remained closed for ordinary travellers. For those carrying a pass signed by the lord marshal, it was another matter. The same day as Brand had marched into the capital, a wanderer and a carriage made their departure through Woolgate in the afternoon.


    The solitary wanderer moved at a brisk pace, as if he required neither rest nor sleep. He followed the road east towards Theodstan.


    As for the carriage, its chosen direction was directly north. Eventually, the roads turned from stone to dirt and finally grass, being little more than trails used by both Men and beasts. The wheels of the carriage had to yield in the end; untying the horses, the travellers continued riding bareback. Taking the lead, ric carried a banner with the head of a horse upon it while ukos brought up the rear; in between rode Arndis.


    ~~~~


    I am notfortable with this. ric stared at the camp of the Isarn army.


    Toote for us to turn back, Arndis pointed out. Soldiers wearing ck swords as their emblem surrounded the three travellers, who walked on foot; behind them came another warrior, holding the reins of their horses.


    I enjoy our constant defiance of death, ukos remarked, causing the soldiers of Isarn to nce at him anxiously. While the patrol had epted the trio came in peace, as imed by the banner, they remained uneasy; those walking behind ric and ukos had their spears lowered, aimed at their backs.


    Soon, they saw the signs of an army that had settled in. Palisades protected the camp, and guard towers maintained strict vigil. As their approach was spied, the sentinels sent an alert. Thus, once they reached the gate, someone of high rank already stood in waiting.


    Where did you find them? Athelbold asked the leader of the patrol.


    Some miles south of here. They seek the jarl.


    The nobleman nced at the banner with the head of a horse. Clearly. I am Athelbold of Isarn, he dered. Who are you? I see no signs of allegiance upon you.


    I am Arndis of House Arnling. The words caused surprise among the onlookers, but she appeared unfazed. I seek an audience with the jarl on behalf of my brother.


    I wonder what you hope to gain, walking into the dragons den. I thought you Arnlings were meant to be clever, Athelbold spoke.


    Do you not honour those whoe under Disfaras banner? ric asked brusquely.


    The jarls cousin gave the thane an unimpressed look. Yourdyes in the name of a known exile. I would not speak of honour if I were you.


    Lady Arndis! The speaker came with hasty steps through the camp.


    Sir Athelstan, she replied with a smile. I am all too pleased to see you.


    Likewise. The man in question reached them and gave a bow. I cannot fathom what has brought you here, but joy is greatest when unexpected.


    Always swift with silver-coated words, Arndis spoke; next to her, ukos red at the former knight.


    If you are done, Cousin, Athelbold interjected, we should take them into the camp. They wish to see the jarl.


    What for? asked Athelstan.


    I bring a proposal from my brother. Arndis nced at the surrounding men. Yet I should prefer to speak it under more private circumstances.


    Hearing Arndis speak of her brother, Athelstans smile faltered, reced briefly by a hurt expression before it vanished as well. Follow me, he told them, and I shall introduce you to Isenhart.


    ~~~~


    Standing outside the jarls tent, the neers attracted attention and curious stares, especially at thedy in their midst. ukos and ric sent menacing stares in every direction, as if ready to fight the entire army of Isarn. From inside, voices could be heard arguing until Athelstan emerged.


    The jarl will hear you. Only thedy, he added with an apologetic look to her defenders.


    Both of them growled, but Arndis raised a hand to quiet them. I will be fine. Wait here. She followed Athelstan inside the tent, leaving her guards to exchange disdainful looks with the thanes of Isarn.


    Several men turned their attention towards her. Besides the jarl, his second son Eumund, his cousin Athelbold, and thetters son Athelgar, all stared at her. You are an Arnling, then, Isenhart remarked with a cup of strong wine in his hands. He sat in arge chair with the bearskin from his hall at Silfrisarn.


    Arndis gave a bow. I am, my lord. I bring a message from my brother.


    The jarl emptied his goblet and grabbed a pitcher to fill it anew. Be swift. My patience is short.


    She cleared her throat. The Adalthing convenes in two weeks. Thendfrid has taken hold already.


    Her news caused most of the men to exchange looks or mumbled words. As for Isenhart, he simply took another sip of his wine. So? I have no desire to negotiate with the vermin from Vale. Soon, the city will be mine. Nondfrid can save them.


    Sieges are a costly and dangerous venture, Arndis began to say. If you and your allies would join the assembly, my brother is gathering support to have this war ended immediately.


    Your brother, Isenhart sneered. Adalbrand of House Arnling. This upstart from a derelict line would presume tomand me?


    Never, my lord, Arndis hurried to say. He proposes an alliance. With your presence at the Adalthing, he may bring this war to swift conclusion. Yournds and title remain safe from retribution, naturally. Athelstan and Athelbold regarded each other with knowing nces.


    Only cowards would seek to end this war through words, the jarl proimed, mming his pitcher back on the table. You think I would fall into your trap so easily? Now that Vale trembles behind his walls, he sends this gilded harlot to lure me in?


    Brother, Athelstan barked.


    I assure you, my lord, thendfrid has begun, Arndis tried to argue. If youe by your own will, you are guaranteed safe conduct.


    I will enter Middanhal when the gates are shattered and the city falls before me, Isenhart vowed, throwing his cup aside with an angry gesture. He rose to his feet with fury on his face. I will have the head of every southern lord! I will


    His words came to an abrupt halt, and he fell to the floor. Behind him stood Athelgar, wielding the pitcher of wine as a club. Everyone stared at him with dread. We were all thinking it.


    What have you done, boy? roared his father.


    What had to be done, Athelstan interjected. He looked down on Isenharts body. He would have us throw ourselves against the walls of Middanhal until every one of us had perished.


    He is going to wake up, Athelbold pointed out. Unless you n to murder your own brother while he lies helpless, this solves nothing! Your reckless action will only serve to infuriate him further, he yelled at his son. Run, boy! When hees to, he will seek your head.


    I cannot shed my own blood, the jarls brother conceded. But I will restrain him if it saves our house.


    How? asked Eumund. We cannot keep him prisoner here. Someone will free him.


    We take him away, Athelstan decided. We make our allies join the assembly, and gods willing, we end the war. He frowned, looking at Arndis. How? You never mentioned Brands proposal.


    Thedy looked from Athelstan to his brother. A bitte to ask.


    If we are to do this, Athelbold swiftly said, we cannot waste further time. We must get Isenhart out of camp unseen. Not to mention, someone must convince the northern lords to join the Adalthing.


    Athelgar grabbed the bearskin from the jarls chair and threw it on top of Isenhart. With a sigh, Eumund bent down. You have to gag him first. He did so with the cloth used to clean his sword and began wrapping the animal hide around the jarl.


    I will take him to Middanhal, Athelstan told his cousin. It is the only ce we can be sure nobody will seek to free him. You remain and persuade the other lords to join the Adalthing.


    Very well, Athelbold assented. I will send for Isenwald. Should something happen to his father, he considered, looking at the jarl, he should be here to assumemand of the army and receive their fealty.


    Agreed. Athelstan looked at his kinsman. Pray that this works.


    On the floor, Eumund had used the jarls own belt to tie around the bearskin, keeping the man inside trapped. Carrying this out of camp is going to look strange, he admitted.


    I will distract the thanes, Athelbold suggested. Get a cart and throw him on it. He left with hasty steps.


    I guess I will find a cart, Athelgar said, following his father out of the tent.


    I am going with you, Eumund told his uncle even as he hefted one end of his fathers body.


    Nonsense. There is no point in taking the risk.


    I am not letting you go alone. You can waste time arguing, or you can help me lift.


    Admitting defeat, Athelstan reached down to grab the other end. Arndis stepped out of the way to look out of the tent. This is not how I imagined our negotiations.


    ~~~~


    The soldiers at the gate stared seeing a cart roll through with Athelstan and Eumund on the drivers seat and a noblewoman with two guards in the back. None of them noticed the rolled-up bearskin on which Arndis sat, and they saw no need to question the jarls brother or his son.


    A few miles away, the cart could not continue through the rough terrain, and they abandoned it. ukos slung the jarl over his shoulder, ignoring the muffled protests, and they moved on, bringing the horses along as well. At length, they reached the carriage that had originally brought Arndis and herpanions north. Harnessing the horses, they moved on towards Middanhal.

 Chapter 202: Law and Landfrid

    Chapter 202: Law and Landfrid


    In Middanhal, tension rose from day to day with the armies of Isarn outside the walls and the Dragonheart inside. News of the Adalthing convening had spread quickly, and while none doubted these events were connected, most could only specte as to how or why. In the Citadel, the dragonlord made ns, gathering those noblemen loyal to him and his brother; in his familys house, the dragonborn waited.


    Brands followers had reinforced thepound as best they could, given the scarcity of time and resources. The whiterobes had scrounged stone to repair the walls and timber to make a crude gate. Doran, the heir to n Ln in the hignds, had resumed his role as Brands aide, overseeing the organisation of their quarters and stocking provisions to handle a small siege.


    Bereft of purpose, Jana spent her time outside in what had once been an orchard. Few trees remained, bearing barely any fruit whereas the rest resembled a wilderness. A cracked bench stood there yet, where she sat enjoy the inklings of warmth from the sun in spring.


    Quietly, Brand took a seat next to her. Silence lingered between them, only broken by the bustling sounds from elsewhere on the grounds.


    I remember all the times you told me of Middanhal, Jana finally spoke. I always dreamt of visiting all these ces with you. I would never have guessed under which circumstances.


    Nor me. None could have foreseen this.


    And now we wait, much like in Dvaros, while our fate is decided.


    Brand blew out his breath. Not my favourite part.


    Is it strange that in some small way, I miss the desert? I remember the terrible thirst, of course, Jana added. The fear of pursuit and the slow dread of exhaustion creeping in. But it was simple, she borated. Every step forward brought us closer to our destination. It felt as if our fate, at least, was in our own hands, as long as we kept going. That thought sustained me.


    It is not strange at all, Brand assented. Simplicity possesses a grace of its own. The moment we returned to Adalmearc, everything becameplicated.


    Perhaps that is what I truly miss. The solitude of the desert.


    Milord, a voice called out. One of Brands thanes approached them. Forgive me. Two knights havee, seeking yourpany.


    Let them in.


    The thane turned back; shortly after, a pair of knights appeared. Brand rose to meet them, as did Jana, and the former broke into a smile. Sir Richard! Sir Fionn! The neers mirrored Brands expression, extending their hands to sp his withughter. I did not know you were to be found in Middanhal!


    I returned with Sir William, Fionn exined. Sir Ewind has charge of the army for now.


    And I was cut off from Theodstan by those dogs of Isarn, Richard added. I have been trying to persuade those cowardly sell-swords to attack ever since.


    I am not surprised to hear that, Brandughed. This is Lady Jana of Alczar, and these good knights are Sir Richard and Sir Fionn. Like you, I owe them much.


    The warriors bowed to the noblewoman, who responded with the same courtesy. If you will pardon me, I shall withdraw and let you speak freely, Jana told them, doing so.


    Ady of Alczar, and whiterobes making your walls? You have gathered an unusual band ofpanions, Richard remarked once she had left them.


    Yet all friends of Adalmearc, who would see the realms safe, Brand replied.


    As are we, Fionn dered. William told us of the Adalthing, but who would put their faith in a pit of snakes?


    They will do asst time, Richard imed, or worse.


    Many of the Order are with you, Fionn continued. They despise Vale and his mercenaries. If he tries something I trust men who fight for honour far more than men who fight for gold.


    Let us hope it does note to that, Brand dered. While I was ready to fight as well, I will admit that awful resolution is the best oue. We shall pray that is achieved, but keep our swords ready.


    Aye, Fionn eximed.


    Tell me of Hthiod and war in the North, Brand requested, and the knights obliged.


    ~~~~


    As when the carriage had left Middanhal, the Order soldiers saw no reason to question its drivers or passengers on its return; the letter of passage from the lord marshal opened the gate with ease. ric thanked the sentinels while ukos merely grunted, setting the horses into motion. As they drove into Middanhal, none could tell that the carriage carried more passengers than one as initially.


    Seated inside, still gagged and tied up, the jarl of Isarn sent hateful res in every direction. He had barely eaten or received water in the three days journey from the camp to Middanhal, being too busy to spew curses each time the gag was removed.


    As the carriage rumbled past the gate to the Arnling residence, Brand stood in the courtyard waiting. He helped Arndis step down to the ground and gave her a quick embrace. You are well?


    I am.


    I regretted letting you leave the moment you did, he confessed.


    You know I was best suited for this task, Arndis told him. If you had gone, I expect the good jarl would have killed you on the spot.


    I am d your instincts proved right and no harm came to you, Brand said. What did they say?


    From the carriage, ukos and ric pulled the trussed up jarl, whonded on his knees with a muted growl. The two warriors ced a hand on his shoulders, keeping him down. This will take a little exining, Arndis admitted as Eumund emerged from within the carriage. The two men who had spent their childhood as pages in the Citadel stared at each other.


    Arnling.


    Isarn.


    It really is you. Until this moment, I found it hard to believe you truly escaped Middanhal.


    And in the process provided cover for your own escape.


    Fate has a strange sense of humour.


    What does this mean? Brand gestured at the bound jarl. He does not seem inclined to lend his voice to me in the Adalthing, nor demand the same of his margraves.


    He is not, Eumund said. We took matters into our own hands.


    We had to leave in a bit of haste, Arndis added. But I exined your ns in full to Sir Athelstan. He went with us at first, but we decided he should return and help persuade the northern lords to attend the assembly. I have no doubt he will prevail.


    If not, we are all dead. Arnling and Isarn alike, it would seem. Brand looked at his men and nodded at the jarl. Find somece safe to keep him. Provide him somefort if you can.


    ric and ukos grabbed the jarl under his shoulders, pulled him to stand, and began dragging him inside. Are we breaking thendfrid? ric asked with a touch of anxiety. While it is in effect, it forbids any assault upon a member of the Adalthing.


    ukos shrugged. We did not assault the jarl, his family did. We are just providing him a ce to sleep. If anything, we should bemended for our actions.


    ric seemed sceptical at this interpretation, but he made no further arguments.


    ~~~~


    A week after he set out, Godfrey returned from Theodstan. He spent a full day asleep, drank his fill from a barrel of rainwater, and went to the Temple. It did not take him long to find the highfather walking in the inner yard. Septimus, he greeted him.


    Youve returned soon, the aged priest said.


    I didnt relish being away from Middanhal, Godfrey exined. Too much depends on the next days, and with the ounders returned in force, everything hinges on what happens next. Your ckrobes may help bringing the noblemen into alignment.


    You know we stay out of politics, Septimus reminded him.


    I am aware as I made that rule, Godfrey replied dryly. But needs must. Jarl Ingmond is known for his piety, isnt he? He would be susceptible to your influence.


    s, no. The highfather shook his head. The jarl hates young Arnling and mes him for the death of his family.


    Godfrey took a deep breath. He has a gift for making enemies. Very well. If direct influence will not work, perhaps your brothers may assist in other ways.


    What did you have in mind?


    Tell me all you know of the lord protector.


    ~~~~


    Kate filled the spoon with porridge and extended it towards Quill, lying on his bed. The bowl was mostly full, yet the aged scribe showed no interest in eating. Please, master, you must have some more.


    Where is Egil? Quill asked with sudden urgency, raising himself to rest on one elbow. Did he get the ink like I told him?


    We have enough ink that we could bathe in it, master, Kate assured him. Egil is in the hall. She nodded towards the door.


    Quill sank back into his bed. Is he practising his letters? He must.


    Hes reading thew books, master, concerning the Adalthing. All is in good hands, Kate spoke with a soothing voice.


    Her words had the opposite effect as Quills eyes flew open. What? Why?


    The Adalthing, master, Kate stammered.


    With bboured breath, the old librarian pushed himself out of bed to stand up. He swayed for a moment until Kate reached out to support him. Once steady, he stalked out with as steady a gait as his legs allowed.


    What is this? asked Quill once he reached Egil. The apprentice looked up at him and then at Kate, who could only shrug her shoulders. You think you are ready, boy? To oversee the Adalthing and guarantee itsws?


    I just thought it was best, Egil mumbled with cheeks growing red. Allow you to rest.


    Quill scoffed. I am thew keeper. I shall be so until myst breath. He wheezed as if that every moment was upon him. But it is good you prepare, he suddenly added; his features softened, and his whole body slumped. Keep reading.


    Yes, master.


    What about you, boy? What are you reading? Quill asked the other person present, giving him a stern look.


    The prince looked up from his seat. <em>Ruminations upon the Art of Governance, </em>by Master Anselm of Monteau. He raised the book in his hands. I want to know what makes a good ruler.


    Good, good. Already looking away, Quill patted the heir to the realms on the head. All young boys should read Master Anselm. He retreated back to his chamber.


    In the courtyard outside, the jarl of Theodstan arrived with his retinue, ready to attend the Adalthing.


    ~~~~


    On the eve before the Adalthing, the lord protector sat in his study. He stared at a gold coin held between his fingers with the ship of Alczar imprinted upon it. The door opened, and a thane entered. He cleared his throat a few times. Milord, he finally spoke.


    Yes?


    Theres a Red Hawk here with a message from your brother.


    Send him in.


    The thane gestured for the mercenary to enter; thetter had been disarmed.


    Valerian looked at him expectantly. Yes? What is it?


    My name is Jeremy, milord. I began working for your brother almost two years ago, he began to rte. The first task I performed for him was on the day Lord Adalbrand was meant to be executed. In the dungeons sat three men from the House of Isarn

 Chapter 203: The Dragons Rise

    Chapter 203: The Dragon''s Rise


    On the morrow of the Adalthing, the Citadel was bustling as could be expected. Lords from across the realm had gathered along with their retinues. Many of them grumbled at being summoned to the capital outside the regr gathering at summer solstice, especially once they had learned the reason. As some expressed, the matter of Arnling had already been resolved, and they demurred at being forced to take this trip only to re-tread familiar ground.


    Regardless, they hade. All the many margraves of Vale, the southernndgraves, and the jarl of Ingmond along with his vassals; all of which could be assumed to follow the lord protector. From the North, the jarl of Theodstan and his margraves appeared, as expected. But few, if any, had guessed that the remaining northern lords would appear. Rebels against the realm, they marched into the Citadel.


    Many seized weapons at the sight of them, but the lord marshal had been forewarned. Order soldiers stood ready to prevent hostilities and guarantee thendfrid, posted in strong numbers. Thanks to their presence, only jeers instead of arrows flew across the hall. In the end, the Adalthing stood nearly at its full count, as only the jarl of Isarn was not present.


    In the end, sixty-seven out of sixty-eight members entered the hall of the Adalthing along with their closest attendants or rtives. More than half of the full count, regardless of how many were present, would have to be in favour for any decision to be made; the number to reach stood at thirty-five.


    ~~~~


    The remainder of the court, restricted from entering the hall itself, watched from the balconies. Apart from courtiers, those of high standing had also been allowed to find a ce from where they might observe the proceedings. The highfather was among them, being apanied by an unassuming man in travelworn clothes.


    Godfrey, Septimus said quietly, his old hands clenched to the railing, if this fails what do we do? With Isarns army to the north and the realms in disarray, how will we stop fifty thousand ounders from taking the city?


    Godfrey exhaled. I fear even the gods may not know.


    ~~~~


    Arndis and Eleanor had found a perch as well, apanied by the new lord marshal. I am so nervous, Eleanor admitted, biting her lip. She looked at William. It did not go wellst time.


    I am sure the dragonlord understand the sense in having Brand fight on our side, William imed. He will be restored to knighthood, and we may ce all of this behind us.


    And if not? Arndis turned her head towards the knight. Will we have your protection, Sir William? Will my brother?


    He frowned. Of course, but as I said, it only makes sense to have Brand return to the Order. It will not be needed.


    We shall see, Arndis remarked. She looked to her other side, where Gwen and Jana had found room for themselves on the next balcony, observing the people below.


    ~~~~


    On the floor, Brand stood by Theodoric. I received your message, thetter said. Do you believe your schemes havee to fruition? The jarl nced at the lord protector, standing by the dragonlord on the opposite side of the hall.


    We will find out momentarily.


    How reassuring.


    Quiet mutterings could be heard as the young prince of House Hardling crossed the floor to stand in front of Brand, who exchanged a surprised look with Theodoric. Lord Inghard.


    The youth inclined his head. Lord Adalbrand. You always return to Middanhal under the most auspicious of circumstances.


    The older atheling regarded the younger. Is that all you wished to say?


    I remember we yed chess in your cell, so long ago, Inghard continued. You beat me every time. Even when I thought your moves were too bold, audacious even, you still seized victory.


    I remember.


    You were always ready to sacrifice any piece, Inghard added. Even yourself, it seems now. Are you truly willing to not only kill, but even die?


    The son of Arn scrutinised his counterpart once again. I am.


    The son of Sighard nodded slightly. I am not willing to do either of those things. I should like to see you restored, in that case. Men like you are needed to win these wars.


    I could not agree more.


    After bowing his head once more, the young prince walked away.


    ~~~~


    I have assurances from all the southernndgraves, Konstans remarked with a satisfied expression. And given how much Ingmond hates the Arnling brat, his support is certain. I almost admire their impertinence in having all these rebels attend, but it makes no difference. The only question will be how fast they run to escape Middanhal before thendfrid ends.


    By his side, Valerian stood with deep furrows on his brow. Brother, he spoke at length, did you let the Isarn prisoners escape two years ago?


    Konstans looked at him in shock. What nonsense is this?


    Did you send the prince Gerhard with them that he might die?


    Are you mad? Why would I ever do this?


    The jarl stared at his brother. I could not make sense of it either, until I recalled how their escape meant you travelled north to negotiate peace, along with Prince Hardmar. He did not return either.


    Valerian, have you gone insane? Why would you bring up such nder in this very moment? Konstans nced at Inghard, returning towards them after speaking with Brand. I cannot fathom where such ludicrous usations woulde from, but can you at least wait until after the assembly?


    Waiting is all I have done, the jarl mumbled.


    The Kings Quill approaches, someone announced. We will begin soon. Conversation around the hall died down and the noblemen moved to different positions, ording to their affiliation. Margraves gathered around their liege; the southernndgraves, usually found supporting each other, formed their own group. As for the northern lords, regardless of title, they stood as one.


    ~~~~


    It took a while for the Kings Quill to actually reach the hall. Once he stepped inside, it became apparent to all. He walked with slow steps, being supported by his apprentice. His eyescked focus, drifting in every direction. The hall was silent as he crossed it, finally reaching the empty throne in one end. Taking position before it, he turned around to address the noblemen.


    This gathering must be consecrated, he spoke with a frail voice. A priestess of Disfara entered the hall, moving to the statue of the goddess. One by one, each member of the Adalthing approached to have his forehead smeared with blood to sanctify his role in upholding thews of the realm.


    When all was done, thew keeper spoke again. The Adalthing has been summoned by the dragonlord, as is his right in times of need, Quill wheezed. Whispers could be heard, repeating his words around the hall and on the balconies. He may speak as to the nature of this need.


    Konstans stepped forward to address the crowd. Two weeks ago, Adalbrand of House Arnling returned despite the exile upon him to enter this city. He brought a mob with him to seize the Citadel. While we stood ready to defeat this outrageous assault, I agreed to summon the Adalthing in order to avoid bloodshed. He argues that the judgement upon him is unjust and would ask you to rescind it. He let his eyes sweep over the southern lords. Yet given his entry to the city, we have seen what happened when we let mercy temper justice and sent him to exile! My counsel can only be that this time, we affirm his guilt and let execution be his fate.


    His words caused different reactions throughout the crowd; some gasped in surprise, especially on the balconies. Many on the floor seemed satisfied and in agreement; others appeared unfazed. Among them Theodoric, who stepped forward as well.


    Master Quill, it hase to my attention that another matter must be dealt with first, as described by thew.


    Spare us your trickery, Konstans sneered. You will not stop this counting from taking ce.


    Yet I will be heard, Theodoric demanded, looking at thew keeper.


    One hand on his apprentice, lightly swaying, Quill nodded slowly. We should not silence a jarl of the realm in this chamber. Speak your concern, Jarl Theodstan.


    It is the foremost duty of this assembly to ensure the realm has a ruler, Theodoric began to say.


    Which it has in the form of our esteemed lord protector, Konstans said.


    A ruler born to Sigvards blood, whether he be king or heir, the jarl continued.


    Prince Inghard is an atheling.


    But he is not chosen by the Adalthing, Theodoric swiftly countered.


    His brother was. By custom, that would make a younger brother the next heir.


    Yet Prince Hardmar was never coronated. His house was never elevated to the status as the House of Adal. That means Lord Inghard remains a son to House Hardling. He has no stronger right to the crown than any other man in the eyes of the Adalthing, Theodoric pointed out. In fact, he has retained his membership of this assembly precisely because he is considered the atheling of House Hardling. If he were the heir to the realms, he would be seated on that throne rather than standing among us. The jarl pointed at the empty throne behind Quill.


    Preposterous, Konstans eximed, but doubt could be seen on his face. All eyes became fixed on thew keeper.


    The jarl is right in his learned interpretation of thew, Quill proimed, sending a shock through the listeners. On the balcony, Godfrey smiled before he disappeared. The realm is without awfully chosen king or heir. One must be chosen immediately.


    So be it! Konstans all but roared. If we must go through this farce of choosing Prince Inghard, we shall. I cannot imagine any man here would be fool enough to lend his voice to an honourless ouw, who already tried to seize the throne!


    Brand quickly advanced to ce on one hand on the statue of Disfara. Yet if you support me, I swear by the goddess, I shall grant clemency to every man in this room for all crimes against the realm. The civil war that has torn our kingdom apart shall be over this very day.


    One traitor giving pardon to the others! The dragonlords voice flowed with contempt.


    Fifty thousand ounders stand in Hthiod, Brand continued. They shall march through Ingmond and all of southern Adalrik before reaching this city, burning it to the ground!


    Convenient! shouted Konstans. As if a word from your mouth can be trusted!


    The lord marshal, a knight of unassable honour, may verify my words.


    All heads turned towards William, who, looking bemused at the sudden attention, nodded.


    Another of your cronies, usurping power!


    For three years, Adalrik has been torn by war! Enemies surround us on all sides, from the Reach to Alczar. It is time to put these grievances aside. Even you, Lord Konstans, will be pardoned, Brand promised, locking his gaze on the dragonlord.


    How magnanimous, Konstans spat. Enough of this! Let the counting begin.


    Quill began to speak, but he only managed to cough. Water, he finally wheezed at Egil.


    The youth turned to a nearby soldier. Fetch water for the Kings Quill, hemanded. One moment, milords, and we shall begin.


    ~~~~


    A chair was brought in to let Quill sit and rest for a few moments, regaining his strength. Meanwhile, murmurs erupted across the hall as the noblemen discussed the development.


    If this fails, the realm will fall to chaos, Theodoric muttered.


    If this fails, I will be dead, Brand pointed out dryly.


    We need eight from the South to join us, the jarl continued. Eight men will decide if we have peace, or if I have thrown away my alliance with Vale to be eaten by the wolves of Isarn.


    They will see reason, Brand imed, looking at the southern lords.


    Across the hall, the dragonlord clenched his fists in anger. So this was their ploy, Konstans sneered. I should have known. But it is a desperate act. This changes nothing.


    What if it should? asked Valerian. All the blood and gold wasted on this war.


    Have you lost your wits? If that brigand is made king, he will have our heads! Konstans grabbed his brothers tunic to pull him close. Think of your son! You want him to grow up, I take it?


    In peace, the jarl mumbled, sweat on his brow. I want him to know peace.


    Keep yourself together! The counting is about to begin.


    Still mumbling, Valerian turned his attention towards the Kings Quill, as did all others.


    Standing once more, though leaning on Egil, thew keeper began to speak. The Adalthing must choose who shall lead us. The ancient customs permit for any man to be chosen in times of strife, though such a choice would be temporary until the end of war. Only an atheling of Sigvard may be seated on the Dragon Throne. Quill paused, breathing heavily before he could continue. I encourage the Adalthing to choose wisely. Lord Raymond, to whom do you lend your voice?


    The jarl stepped forward. I lend it to Inghard of House Hardling. His eyes looked with hatred on Brand before he returned to his margraves.


    Does any margrave from Ingmond speak otherwise?


    Silencested for a moment before one nobleman walked up to the statue of Disfara.


    How dare you! shouted Raymond. You would support this bastard? The blood of my family is upon his hands!


    The margrave looked at his jarl. When the ounderse, the blood of all our families will be upon your hands. He ced his own on the foot of the statue. I lend my voice to Adalbrand of House Arnling. He walked over to stand by the northerners, who weed him with cheers.


    Quiet, thew keeper demanded, though he could barely be heard, and Egil had to repeat it. Lord Valerian, to whom do you lend your voice?


    The lord protector moved to the statue. He nced at his brother, but quickly averted his eyes again. As the moments passed, astonished murmurs spread through the hall. I lend  I give it to Adalbrand, he finally spoke, causing a mour to break out.


    Konstans marched up to grab his brothers cor with both hands. Traitor! he roared. Why would you do this?


    Quiet! Egil shouted.


    We failed, Brother, Valerian dered, his expression etched with regret. We let this war continue, and now the ounders will destroy us!


    You have destroyed us! Konstans shouted into his brothers face. Begone!


    Quiet!


    Begone, you coward! As Konstans all but screamed at him, Valerian stumbled backwards, fleeing his brothers rage until he stood among the northern lords. In the confusion, Godfrey slipped inside the hall.


    Be silent! Egils third attempt finally had sufficient luck to let thew keeper continue.


    Does any margrave from Vale speak otherwise? Quill asked.


    All of you, support Hardling or I will see you destroyed! Konstans roared until the margraves bowed their heads and nearly tripped over one another to reach the statue. Fourteen lords mumbled their support for Inghard and returned to the dragonlord, whose face looked red enough to spew fire. Yet two margraves did otherwise; raising their voices, they dered to be in line with their jarl, and they crossed the hall to stand by him.


    Lord Theodoric, how do you speak?


    I speak in favour of Adalbrand of House Arnling, the jarl loudly proimed. All of his margraves followed suit.


    Lord Isenhart, how do you speak?


    The jarl is not present, Egil said quietly in Quills ear.


    How do the margraves of Isarn speak? asked thew keeper with ragged breath.


    All as one dered for Arnling.


    Twenty-five, Theodoric muttered.


    We continue. One after the other, Quill called thendgraves next. All the northern lords lent their voices to Arnling.


    Thirty-one. The jarl of Theodstan sped his hands together until his knuckles turned white. Another four.


    How does the lord of Marcaster speak?


    As the first southernndgrave, Marcaster strode up to the statue and dered for Hardling. The other nine did so as well.


    Thirty-five, Theodoric eximed, looking crestfallen. That is thirty-five for Inghard.


    Opposite the hall, Konstans had reached the same conclusion by the satisfied look on his face. Regaining hisposure after his furious outbursts earlier, he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Thendgraves gathered around him, talking among themselves.


    They paid no heed to Inghard, who held thest vote to be given. Few did, given that the counting had been already decided. The prince left Godfrey, who had kept himpany for a little while, and stepped up to the statue.


    Lord Inghard, Quill asked, to whom do you lend your voice?


    The young man looked at Brand before raising his eyes to look at the goddess. Touching the stonework on which she rested, he took a deep breath. I, Inghard of House Hardling, renounce my im upon the Dragon Throne. I bow before the Dragon of Adalrik. He approached Brand and did as he had imed.


    Half the hall appeared stunned, watching the youth down on his knee with bowed head. Valerian recovered as the first, pushing his way forward to follow Inghards gesture, kneeling in front of Brand. The noblemen of Theodstan, Isarn, and all the North swiftly did as well.


    The southern lords werest to realise what had happened. What is this? Konstans roared with renewed anger. Confusion spread among those gathered around him; several of Vales margraves hurried over to kneel next to their lord.


    The crown cannot be forced upon an unwilling head if another atheling stands ready, Quill dered. If Lord Inghard refuses this honour, we must make another counting. His words were swiftly repeated through the hall and upon the balconies.


    Konstans looked around bewildered as his brothers margraves abandoned him. Stop! he cried out. Stay, you cowards!


    It was toote; the tide had broken. The southernndgraves crossed the hall to join the jarl of Vale and his vassals. Seeing this, half of Ingmonds margraves left him to do the same. With unintelligible words of anger, Raymond stormed off, followed by his remaining supporters. In the end, Konstans stood alone. He nced around and found no sympathy on any of the balconies; in the hall itself, only Brand could meet his gaze, as the other noblemen knelt before him. With clenched jaw, Konstans left as well.


    Quill squinted his eyes. Am I to interpret this as the will of the Adalthing?


    Theodoric rose to his feet. Aye, he spoke. His vassals did as well, repeating the affirmation. Vale followed next along with the other southern lords, confirming the same.


    Thew keeper raised one hand tomand silence. As none objects, so be it. Bring your choice and have him kneel by the statue. He coughed several times as Brand did as instructed. Supported by Egil, Quill walked over to ce one hand on his shoulder. Adalbrand of House Arnling, as keeper of thew, I confirm that the Adalthing speaks with one voice. An atheling of Sigvard, you have been chosen to take his ce. Cheers interrupted Quill briefly before he could continue. Since you are of age and the realm has no ruler, the authority of the king is yours without dy. Rise as king.


    Brand did so, and the cheers returned. Wiping sweat from his brow, Quill raised his free hand as before to gain silence; Egil held him upright by his other arm. In time, go to the Temple and be crowned upon the steps in sight of the entire realm that all may see and know you are the Dragon of Adalrik. For when you rise on that day, you rise as High King of Adalmearc, and never again shall you kneel before any man. His work done, Quill stepped back and allowed Egil to lead him away.


    The Dragon of Adalrik! shouted all those present in the hall, whether on the floor or upon the balconies.


    Brand raised both hands, palms outwards to the sides, and the gathering fell quiet. I am true to my word, he dered, reaching out to touch the statue of Disfara. As my first act, I dere that all in this hall are pardoned for any crimesmitted against the throne. No longer shall our kingdom be torn by civil war. Jubnt outbursts followed his promation. Yet we remain under threat, the king continued. As my second act, I bid you all prepare your armies. Our enemies shall know the might of Adalmearc, and we shall know victory! His words were met by deafening shouts of agreement from northern and southern lords alike.

 Chapter 204: Beyond and Within

    Chapter 204: Beyond and Within


    The day after the Adalthing had spoken, the highfather sat in the Temple yard on a bench. Around him, priests and priestesses of all ranks hurried to and from, each busy with their own errand. Next to him was Godfrey.


    How certain were you that the boy would renounce his im? asked Septimus.


    Reasonably so. He has no interest in rulership, and both his older brothers were murdered for power. I would have preferred if the first counting simply went the right way, but as a contingency, it worked nicely, Godfrey said.


    I can scarcely fathom the risk you took. The highfather shook his head.


    I am an excellent judge of character. Vale, Hardling, I expected them toe through.


    What if they had not?


    Then people I care about would have died, and I would have found another way to continue my task. Godfrey stared ahead. You never questioned my methods before.


    I must be getting old.


    So am I, but you dont hear meining.


    Septimus scoffed. Godfrey, he said after a moment, what will happen if the ounders reach the city? What if the Godkinges?


    I will defend the antechamber against him for as long as I can.


    What happens if you cant?


    Godfrey sped his hands together. I am not certain, but I cannot think of any answer you would wish to hear.


    ~~~~


    Arndis leaned back in a sofa, surrounded by soft pillows. This will be adequate. Sheughed, as did Eleanor, appearing from an adjacent room.


    My chamber is twice the size of the old, the Hthiandy reported. Are you sure I am allowed to stay? she asked with sudden concern. I am not a member of the royal family.


    As the kings sister, it must be expected that I have handmaidens of noble birth, Arndis considered, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. Do not fret, Jenny, she continued, seeing her servant with a frightened expression. I will not be recing you.


    Yes, mdy.


    I am surprised at the speed with which the steward changed our quarters, Eleanor said. It was only yesterday the Adalthing met.


    It is far easier for the kingthanes to protect us in the same wing, Arndis pointed out. There was a knock on the door. Speak of the Elf, and he shall appear, she added. You may enter!


    A kingthane opened the door to poke his head inside. Pardon me, mdy. The alderman requests an audience.


    Let him pass.


    I shall arrange my new chamber, Eleanor dered. Come along, Jenny.


    As they left, the alderman appeared. With a smile and an awkward bow, he greeted Arndis. Mdy, a pleasure to see you in your new surroundings.


    A pleasure to receive you, Arndis replied. You act swiftly, to visit me so soon.


    Trade never sleeps, mdy, Edwin said. And the news of peace has profound impact.


    The metal trade, Arndis realised. The route through Isarn is open once more.


    Indeed. Our shipment of tin cannot sell at the same price, nor will bringing iron back reap the same profit. In fact, it must be expected that prices will fall considerably.


    Of course. Such are the winds of trade.


    I would abandon the market for metals in the near future, the alderman suggested. But if mdy is interested, I shall bring other trade prospects to her door as Ie across them.


    Please do.


    And perhaps if mdy, in her new position,es across anything worthwhile to share with the guilds, she will do so in turn.


    Consider it a certainty.


    The alderman smiled broadly. Very well. Mdy. He bowed his head and took his leave.


    ~~~~


    Kate and Egil sat inside Quills chamber, looking at the scribe. Hey on his bed under the covers with feverish sweat and shine on his face. His breathing came like the bellows of a forge, at times interrupted by mumbling.


    What did the physician say? asked Kate.


    He made that elixir. Egil pointed at a con on the small table next to Quills bed. Said to give him a few drops at each bell. Ive given him twice so far.


    Did it help?


    At first. His breathing improved. The young man stared with obvious concern at his master. But it didntst.


    Kate leaned over to gently touch Quills face with cloth, removing beads of sweat. Should we give him more? If it helps.


    Too much may make him worse. Egil chewed on his lip. Well have to wait and see.


    You should get something to eat. Ill stay with him.


    The apprentice hesitated, finally getting up with an apprehensive expression. Halfway out the door, he looked back until Kates hand gesture shooed him away.


    ~~~~


    Brand stood in the throne room of the Citadel. Since the death of Prince Hardmar, it had seen little use. He moved towards the end of the hall with the great seat, walking up the first few steps. The jaws of a dragon greeted him, crafted to appear above the head of the person seated.


    There you are.


    Brand turned to follow the voice, finding Jana approaching him. Indeed. You found me.


    Your guards did. She nodded towards the end of the hall, where her own protectors had joined the pair that watched over Brand.


    Are your amodations to your liking?


    Fit for a king.


    Heughed a little. They better be, or the royal wing does not live up to its name.


    She looked around the room, from the tall pirs to the throne. When will you give audience?


    In a few days. I am waiting for thest sons of Isarn to surrender.


    Have you tried your new chair?


    Not yet.


    Why not now? Make yourself familiar with it.


    Brand smiled and took her suggestion, walking the final steps up to be seated. He ced his hands on the armrests, shaped like the legs of the dragon, and leaned back to sit upright.


    How does it feel?


    He exhaled slowly. I remember when I learned of my ancestry. That my forefathers sat upon this throne. I never thought it would be mine, and yet in this moment, it feels to have been inevitable.


    Brand, she spoke, her voice growing serious, are we safe now?


    He looked at her and nodded. None can challenge me within the Seven Realms. The authority of the king cannot be wrested from me.


    What of our enemies from beyond?


    I shall gather the full strength of Adalmearc, and they will wither before it. You are guaranteed a ce by my side, and none, whether within thesends or beyond, may threaten that.


    Good. She allowed herself a cautious smile. Are you hungry? I am famished.


    He reciprocated her expression and rose from the throne, following her back to the royal wing.

 Chapter 205: First and Final Audience

    Chapter 205: First and Final Audience


    The court stood assembled in the throne room. The hall was packed; besides every courtier, from the kings sister to the lowest beorns, a disjointed band of hignders, heathmen, drakonians, and others could also be found. Most of the noblemen from the Adalthing had also appeared, including most of the jarls. Ingmond was the exception along with many of his margraves.


    Conversation became quiet as the doors opened. With ten kingthanes surrounding him, the king entered from the far side and walked up the hall. The crowd parted before him, all bowing their heads. Atst, he reached the throne to take his seat, while his guards spread out to stand on either side.


    It is a new day for Adalrik, Brand spoke. Strife within the kingdom is at an end. His words released cheers. The realm has new leadership. I name the jarl of Theodstan to serve as my dragonlord.


    As people apuded, Theodoric stepped forward to give a deep bow before the throne. He advanced until he could ept the si of the dragonlord from the kings hand, cing it on his finger, and returned to stand among his vassals.


    Yet new leadership does not mean discarding those who served with skill and loyalty in earlier times. I affirm the choice of Sir William of Tothmor to lead the Order of Adal.


    The knight bowed his head in reply while Eleanor by his side grabbed his arm in joy.


    In that spirit, I am grateful to the jarl of Vale for his stewardship of my kingdom. Lord Valerian, make yourself known.


    The jarl moved through his margraves to stand alone in the small, empty space before the throne. Here I am, my king.


    I would make use of your skills. I have decided to create a new position to oversee all matters concerning taxes and trade within my kingdom, Brand dered. I name you master of the royal treasury.


    Valerian blinked a tear away. Thank you, my king. He bowed and stepped back.


    Yet even if we are not threatened within, our enemies outside our borders must be dealt with. Lord Doran of n Ln, make yourself known.


    The young hignder approached the throne. My lord king.


    You are to be my emissary to the highnds, Brand proimed. I send you to King Brin with this message. Tell the r ruirech that the ard r bids him gather all the tuatha and march them to war.


    The kings words caused confusion among the court as they whispered among themselves to deduce the exact meaning. As for Doran, he simply smiled. It shall be my pleasure, my lord king. I shall journey to Cairn Donn without dy.


    Brand nodded and continued the audience.


    ~~~~


    As the noon bell rang, Kate administered a few drops of the physicians elixir into Quills mouth. Soon, his breathing came with less effort, and he opened his eyes to look at her. Kate, he mumbled.


    Yes, master, do you need something? Are you hungry?


    I have something to say.


    Im listening.


    He coughed. Egil will need your help. He is not ready for the responsibility.


    Ill help him, master, of course.


    Quill reached out a feeble hand towards her, and she caught it with her own. Perhaps our new king could have two quills? He gave a frail smile. I see no reason against it. He coughed again.


    You should rest, master. Dont talk anymore.


    No. He closed his eyes but opened them again. Never stop learning, Kate. Never let any tell you that your ce is elsewhere. Promise me.


    I promise, Kate told him, biting her lip.


    You came to mete, but you have been a blessing. The old scribe grasped her hand with surprising strength before his grip became loose.


    Thank you, master. Tears began to take shape in her eyes.


    Find Egil for me.


    I shall, master. She hurried away.


    ~~~~


    Last year, Brand said, letting his voice ring across the throne room, I ventured into the Reach with a hundred brave souls by my side. I promised your valour should one day be rewarded. Finally, my table is long enough to seat you all. Laughter could be heard, especially from the group in question. All of you may live at my court to the end of your days and know that you are honoured among us.


    Hispanions replied with cries of exultation and agreement.


    Should any of you wish to join the kingthanes, your loyalty and bravery have already ensured you a ce among their ranks, Brand spoke again. Beyond that, some have shown such service, I must speak them by name. Geberic from Cragstan, make yourself known.


    The greybeard stepped out from the crowd, looking a tad nervous. Aye, my king.


    You have never wavered from my side since we crossed the Weolcans. I raise you to the rank of beorn. I name you the kings cupbearer. In peace, you shall be my servant. In war, you shall be my sergeant. And let all know that Geberic of Cragstan has the kings utmost trust.


    Thank you, Geberic replied with a thick voice. He hurried to move back with the others.


    ric of Middanhal, make yourself known.


    Yes, my king.


    I name you captain of my kingthanes, for none could be more worthy to lead theirpany.


    Thank you, my king. The newly made captain took a bow.


    ukos of Tothmor.


    Yes, Your Majesty. The stocky warrior appeared, looking dour as ever.


    Without your sword arm, I would have died on many an asion. I would have you join the kingthanes as my foremost protector and champion, always at my side in times of need.


    He lowered his head. dly, Your Majesty.


    Brand returned the gesture and continued.


    ~~~~


    As bid, Egil entered Quills chamber. You asked for me, master?


    Yes. Sit. Once the apprentice has done so, Quill turned his tired eyes on him. I will tell you what my master told me some twenty years ago.


    What did he tell you?


    Remember you are the keeper of thew. None may harm you. The old scribe clenched his damaged hands. And never allow any to abuse thew, whether he is king or servant.


    Yes, master.


    Treat Kate with respect. She has earned her ce.


    I shall, master.


    He reached out one hand, and Egil grasped it gently. You are my joy and pride, boy. Know that.


    I do, master. The apprentice sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve.


    Let me rest.


    Yes, master. As Quill sank back into his bed, Egil quietly left the room.


    ~~~~


    For over an hour, the king bestowed his favour and received pledges of loyalty from the court. Nearing the end of the audience, he made a small motion as a signal; in response, two soldiers of the Order left the throne room and returned. With them, they brought the jarl of Isarn, still tied up and gagged; Isenharts brother and two sons apanied him, though none of them were bound.


    They moved to stand before the throne, although the soldiers had to force Isenhart to take ce. Athelstan knelt without dy; seeing this, Isenwald hurried to follow suit. After another moment, Eumund did as well. Isenhart remained standing until the soldiers kicked him behind the knees and pped their hands on his shoulders, keeping him down.


    You may stand. They did so except for the jarl, whom the soldiers kept pinned. There is no greater cmity than civil war when brother fights brother. Brand let his eyes move from one son of Isarn to another. We should all be grateful that this ordeal has ended, and I stand by my pledge made in the hall of the Adalthing. All those present on that day are pardoned. His gaze came to rest on the jarl. Which you were not, Isenhart of Isarn.


    Whatever response the prisoner tried to give, the gag kept it from being audible.


    I will not begin my reign by ordering the execution of my enemies, no matter how great their crime. You shall remain at court as my guest for the remainder of your life, Brand proimed. You shall be treated well ording to your rank, but you will be confirmed to your rooms permanently. You will be guarded at all times, and you may not receive visitors unless approved.


    If the jarl felt any gratitude at being shown mercy, it was drowned out by the hateful look on his face.


    But your title is stripped from you, the king continued. You will never again hold rulership. Take him away.


    The former jarl struggled against his restraints, but it did not avail him, and the Order soldiers dragged him out of the throne room to the sound of jeers.


    Isenwald of Isarn, Brand spoke again. The first time we met, you showed wisdom to surrender rather than fight needlessly on. You have done so again.


    The young man looked confused. Oh. When  you took Middanhal. My king, he hastened to add.


    I confirm your right to your fathers title andnds. Serve me as the jarl of Isarn better than your father ever could.


    Isenwald gave a deep bow. Yes, my king. Thank  you.


    As for Athelstan and Eumund of Isarn, you broke your oath as knights of Adal. They both met Brands gaze, though while the elder seemed remorseful, the younger did not. Yet given the times ahead, the realm has need of every warrior. I present you both with a choice. Return to Isarn and live out your days within the jarldom, never taking up the sword again. Or renew your oath to serve as knights and cleanse your honour of past shame.


    I will take the oath, Athelstan dered without hesitation.


    Eumund spent a moment longer. As will I.


    In that case, you may kneel. Brand rose from the throne. Rather than draw the de of sea-steel by his waist, he extended his hand to the nearest kingthane, who ced his own sword in the kings hand. He approached Athelstan first. Swear the oath.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    I am sworn to valour.


    Valour I wield as my sword.


    This is my vow.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    I am sworn to justice.


    Justice I raise as my shield.


    This is my vow.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    I am sworn to truth.


    Truth I wear as my armour.


    This is my vow.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    I am sworn to fealty.


    Fealty I honour above all.


    This is my vow.


    My sword fears not death.


    My shield defends the weak.


    My armour protects the realm.


    My oath is my honour.


    I am a Knight of Adal.


    As Athelstan finished, Brand touched his left shoulder with the de, followed by the right and finally the left shoulder again. With every touch, the king proimed the words of rite.


    In the name of the King, whosemand you follow


    In the name of the Order, whose codex you follow


    In the name of Rihimil, whose example you follow


    I name you a knight.


    Onceplete, the same process was repeated with Eumund. Finally, Brand gave the sword back to his kingthane and returned to the throne. Once seated, he looked at the kneeling men. You may rise as knights. Serve your king and your realm above all.


    The sons of Isarn stood up. Some among the crowd pped their hands, but the apuse was scattered. As for the restored knights, they stepped back into the throng of people among the margraves of Isarn. The audience concluded, Brand rose from his seat once again and left. The hall was quiet as he departed, surrounded by his kingthanes; once he had gone, rapid conversation spread.


    ~~~~


    Leaving the throne room, Godfrey made his way to the library tower. He did not take the longer route as usual, but simply walked through the royal wing; the king had told his thanes to never hinder Godfreys ess in any manner.


    Entering the reading hall, he found Egil studying a book; Kate was in the scriptorium, writing. Hullo,d, the wanderer greeted him.


    Hullo, Godfrey. Do you need something?


    I thought I should have a word with Quill.


    Hes sleeping, I think. Besides, hes most clearheaded when hes had his medicine. But it wont be time for another few hours at least.


    Ill take a look quietly, Godfrey said. Ill leave him to his rest if hes asleep.


    I suppose thats fine.


    Godfrey slipped inside Quills chamber. The scribey, looking jaundiced, and his breath sounded more ragged than ever. Taking a seat next to him, Godfrey reached out to hold his hand.


    As the moments passed, Quill breathed with greater ease. At length, he opened his eyes. Sidi, he whispered. Is it you, Khalid?


    Aye, old friend, its me.


    Where am I?


    In your home. In the library.


    Whats happening?


    Your candle is burning out. Godfrey looked at him with sympathy on his face. There is nothing I am permitted to do about it.


    Slowly, Quills eyes gained focus, staring at his visitor. I will never go home, will I?


    Not your first home, no.


    Tell my brother. Tell him of Kateb.


    I will, old friend. He shall know every detail.


    The scribe swallowed. I do not remember my gods. Only those of the North and their Sapphire City. What will happen to me, Khalid?


    I see a tree, Godfrey told him. It rises to the sky. In its shade, the peopleugh and dance and y music. There is no pain. Only peace.


    I like that, Quill mumbled. I like trees. They are so beautiful here.


    You shall rest in its shade. I promise you.


    Thank you, Khalid. He closed his eyes and leaned back. As Godfrey released his hand, his breathing becameboured again.


    Godfrey rose and left the chamber, closing the door behind him. Ill need pen and parchment, he told Egil.


    Theres plenty ready. He pointed at the scriptorium. What do you need it for?


    I must write a letter to Alczar.


    Inside Quills chamber, the old scribes breathing slowly waned to nothing.

 Chapter 206: Only Allies

    Chapter 206: Only Allies


    Godfrey passed through the royal wing to enter the kings chambers. He found Brand seated by a small table, breaking his fast. You sent for me?


    I did. Brand motioned for his visitor to sit opposite him. Have you eaten?


    I am satiated, yes.


    Very well. Brand quenched his thirst with a cup of ale and broke his freshly baked bread apart. I have summoned Sir William to join meter today that we might discuss strategy. For that purpose, I would ask you all that you know of the ounders. I imagine you have deeper knowledge than what any scouts could have learned.


    Godfrey smiled. You would be right.


    Go on.


    The ounders have twenty thousand soldiers between Lakon and Tothmor under the leadership of Sikandar. He is their foremost captain and should not be underestimated.


    Should I expect them to besiege Tothmor?


    I do not think so. Godfrey shook his head. That was their strategy during the first invasion. Slowly building up troops, taking the cities one by one, and consolidate their grip. Which allowed you to beat them back.


    A smile yed around the kings lips, and he grabbed a pickled egg. I remember. What would you expect then?


    Another army is already marching north. Thirty thousand or so. They will find it difficult to supply suchrge numbers in Hthiod, which is why I imagine either Ingmond or Korndale will be their target.


    Brand nodded slowly. Both have bountiful farnds. But they must take Inghold by siege if they wish to progress deeper into Adalrik, or else their supply lines will be vulnerable.


    Indeed.


    Fifty thousand. Brand took a deep breath. That will be a greater battle than the realms have known for centuries.


    And even more maye. Should the Godking empty hisnds and leave only behind what he must, another twenty to thirty thousand could be deployed. Whether he can supply such a force for long is another matter.


    We will noty idle and wait, Brand dered. What of you? Will you be able to continue gathering information?


    I shall leave today. Godfrey rose and inclined his head. He turned to leave but arrested himself. Another thing. I imagine you have not heard yet.


    Yes?


    Quill diedst evening.


    Brand sat, looking stunned. I had not.


    I am sorry. We both lost a friend. Godfrey bowed his head again and left with swift steps.


    ~~~~


    When William entered the kings quarters, he found their upant standing by the window. My king?


    It took a moment for Brand to turn his head. You are here.


    Is this time inopportune?


    No. The sooner we have this discussion, the better.


    Very well. The lord marshal stepped forward. Are you aware of the situation in Hthiod?


    I know of the ounders. What of our forces?


    About six thousand infantry and four hundred knights, William replied. They have quartered in Ingmond for the winter. As for local troops, about four to five thousand may be raised swiftly from northern Hthiod.


    Have them do so and prepare for a siege, should the ounders choose that course of action. Who did you leave in charge of the army?


    Sir Ewind, my king.


    I remember him. Skilled with organisation. Raise him to the rank of marshal in Hthiod.


    Very well.


    I will send someone from Middanhal with reinforcements to takemand of the army in Ingmond, Brand continued. We should expect the jarldom to be invaded.


    You do not think they will take Tothmor and Polisals as before?


    It is possible, but I have reason to believe Ingmond will be their destination first.


    As you say.


    Fortunately, northern Adalrik is already mustered. I leave it to you that the same happens for southern Adalrik, in particr where Ingmond is concerned. If the jarldom is attacked, we should have all its soldiers conscripted beforehand.


    I shall see to it.


    Write to Sir Martel. Have him send all spare troops from Ealond.


    It shall be done, though given the invasion from Alczar, we should not expect much, William cautioned.


    Inform the marshal that we are the priority, Brandmanded. We will deal with Alczar in due time.


    William inclined his head. Very well. Has my king considered whom should serve as the knight marshal of Adalrik?


    I have not decided yet. I will let you know once I have. That is all.


    The lord marshal gave a bow and departed.


    ~~~~


    The jarl of Vale and his brother are ready at your leisure, my king.


    Brand waved his hand in an inviting gesture. Send them in. He was seated once more.


    The two noblemen entered, escorted by a kingthane; the elder seemed apprehensive, the younger looked bitter. The guard took position by the door.


    My king. Valerian bowed while Konstans gave a slight nod in silence.


    Brand rose, making his greater height apparent as he looked at the younger brother. Lord Konstans, my promise of clemency includes you. That is why you are not in chains walking up the scaffold, as you once had me do.


    I see that your mercy does not extend to gloating.


    Konstans! Valerian barked.


    If I am to be punished, do so. Spare me the talk. Konstans gave the king a challenging look. Is that why your guard is here? He motioned towards the kingthane. To send me tumbling out the window? While I would apud such a ruthless act, I sense that is not your ploy. So whatever you have nned, I would ask you speed it along.


    While Valerian looked horrified, Brand only smiled. Surely you recognise my thane, Jeremy?


    It took a moment for realisation to enter Konstans face. It is his word against mine. The Adalthing would never convict me based on this.


    Valerian took a step away, turning towards his brother. But it is true, is it not? I kept hoping it would not be.


    You may rx, Lord Konstans. Brand let his smile fade. My clemency stands. I simply wished for you to know that I am aware of everything you have done. That the man you sent to take my life now guards it with his. Remember how this scheme turned out, should you ever seek to plot against me. I will not be merciful a second time. Lord Valerian, he continued, looking at the jarl. I expect your brother to never leave Vale again, nor have the slightest conversation, be it written or spoken, with the lords of thesends. A breach of this will be interpreted as a personal affront by the House of Vale against the House of Adal.


    Valerian gave a deep bow. I understand, my king.


    Good. Jeremy, you may lead Lord Konstans away. Ensure he is kept withpany until his departure from the Citadel.


    Yes, my king.


    A sneer crossed Konstans face, but he kept quiet and turned around to leave with haste.


    Lord Valerian.


    The jarl, who had watched his brother leave, looked back quickly. Yes, my king.


    Do you have everything needed to execute your tasks as master of the treasury?


    I do, my king. I already have all the books dating back many years.


    Given we are at war, new taxes must be levied. On all, the king stressed. Peasants, merchants, nobility. None must be exempt.


    The jarl swallowed. Very well.


    Consult with the Kings Quill  Brand paused for a moment. See how war taxes have been levied in the past, find ways to expand and improve them, and present your suggestions to me.


    I shall, my king.


    ~~~~


    It was afternoon when the dragonlord entered the kings chamber and found his master reading through piles of parchment.


    Theodoric,e closer. Brand motioned for him to approach and be seated.


    How can I serve?


    Brand dug through the pile, pulled out a piece of parchment, and waved it around. This is a list of our food stores. Given that we must expect destruction in southern Adalrik, we cannot rely on this years harvest alone. I need you to find remedies.


    The jarl nodded. Eastern Ealond will be our best option. They may ship it north on the Mihtea. Korndale should have stores they can do without.


    Very well. But explore all options.


    I shall leave no stone unturned, my king.


    "Furthermore, send a letter to the forces of Alczar that have invaded us. Tell them the high king of Adalmearc demands their immediate retreat from all ournds, or we shall be forced to wage war upon them until their city is no more."


    "It will be sent today, my king."


    Good. How have you found affairs since taking your position?


    I can make noints, Theodoric spoke. Whatever his faults, Konstans knew how to rule.


    There is that, at least. Which brings me to the next matter. The jarl looked at him expectantly, and Brand continued. You must set up spies in both Valcaster and Silfrisarn. If Lord Konstans or any from the House of Isarn make the slightest misstep, I wish to be informed immediately.


    Prudent. I shall make the arrangements, my king.


    "The jarldom of Ingmond is in enemy hands, but the jarl himself is in Middanhal," Brand added. "Take the same measures with him."


    "I shall, my king."


    Good. You may leave.


    ~~~~


    When the kings sister arrived, she found him as the jarl of Theodstan had. He looked up from the parchment. I do not recall sending for you.


    Fear not, you have not gone mad. I havee of my own volition.


    Something to drink? Pouring wine into his own goblet, he extended the pitcher towards her.


    No need.


    And what need does grant me yourpany?


    Arndis smiled. We must discuss the future.


    Brand took a deep sip from his cup. By all means.


    She sat down opposite him. Isenwald of Isarn has been writing letters to Valerie of Vale.


    The king frowned. So?


    It is a persistent liaison. I believe they will marry, sooner orter.


    That would be excellent. I can think of no stronger symbol that our civil strife hase to an end, Brand eximed.


    Indeed, here and now it seems beneficial. But in the distant future? This presents a threat.


    You think this would present some manner of alliance against me? Brandughed a little. You have met the new jarl. He is hardly one to start an insurrection. He is nothing like his father, thank the gods.


    And his son might take after the grandfather rather than the father, Arndis retorted. And through his mother, said son will have close ties to Vale. If the two most powerful jarls work together, they will control the Adalthing.


    I cannot forbid this marriage, Brand pointed out. And if I seek to pressure either Isarn or Vale, they may turn on me already now, not in thirty years.


    Of course not. We must counter this with an alliance of our own.


    Sadly, neither of the jarls have eligible daughters. The king smiled sardonically.


    No, but Isarn has a brother.


    Brand stared at her. You jest.


    Hardly. The mines of Isarn provide the realm with Nordsteel. It is the only source, Arndis pointed out. It has made Isarn a formidable fighting force since the foundation of this realm, and we should ensure they are loyal beyond any doubt.


    I already pardoned those traitors and even restored their ranks! Brand eximed forcefully, almost spitting wine. Now I am to give my own sister to one of these honourless dogs?


    A terrible sacrifice for you, Arndis remarked coldly, emphasising thest word.


    The anger on his face subsided, and cing his goblet on the table, he stood up. I see your point. But how can you even stomach the thought of marrying Eumund?


    She rose as well. Because I am not a child, and I ept my responsibility. With Isarn tied to our house, the North is certain to remain loyal.


    Anyone but them! Brand stared at her. There are countless alliances we could make. Korndalecks a queen.


    You need support from within Adalrik. You need support in the Adalthing, Arndis argued.


    Brand paced around the room. How will this reflect upon us? Marrying the kings sister will be seen as a reward.


    It will be seen for what it is, Arndis patiently said. A strong alliance made by a wise ruler.


    He stopped walking. I will need time to consider this.


    Fine. However long it takes you to ept I am right.


    You have grown headstrong.


    She smiled. It must run in the family.


    We will speak of thister.


    As you wish. But while you contemte this, lend some thoughts to your own marriage.


    I have a war that I must prepare the kingdom for, Sister. Marriage can wait.


    On the contrary. Now is your greatest need for an alliance. Not to mention, should the worst happen to you, an heir would be wee sooner rather thanter.


    He red at her. I am in excellent health. You need not worry. Nor do I n to charge into battle any time soon.


    You have seen what happened to this realm when itcked an heir, Arndis impressed on him.


    You have someone in mind, I am sure, given how you press the matter.


    Queen Svana would be an excellent choice. It would reinforce the natural alliance between Adalrik and Thusund.


    I will give it some thought. He turned to look out of his window.


    Brand, she continued, and her voice softened. You cannot marry Jana.


    His shoulders became stiff before they rxed again. None have suggested that.


    You ced her in the royal wing, guarded by the kingthanes.


    She is my oldest friend. She saved my life. She is high in my regard with good reason, and I make no excuses for it.


    A king has no friends, only allies, Arndis retorted sternly. Her father has invaded your vassals.


    I am aware of the situation.


    She does not bring an alliance with her, but further enmity.


    I know.


    There are even rumours that Alczar has attacked us because she is here.


    Finally, Brand turned around. Preposterous! Their invasion has been nned for years.


    You may know that, but most people do not. And your enemies will nurture the lie that you are harbouring a fugitive, or worse, that you stole her from her father.


    Ridiculous notion!


    That does not matter. Jarl Ingmond hates you. The southernndgraves only support you because Jarl Vale does. They will sow dissent to weaken you. Brand, you must keep her at arms length or even better, send her home.


    Brand took a deep breath. He parted his lips yet waited a moment before he spoke. You may leave.


    She looked at him. With an indeterminate expression, she inclined her head and left his chambers.


    ~~~~


    As daylight faded, Jana walked into Brands chambers. He sat on a sofa with a cup of wine in his hand. As she appeared, he looked up with a smile, quickly reced by worry. Is something amiss?


    Not where I am concerned, she reassured him. But one of your guards remarked that you might have need ofpany.


    They have some nerve. He let out his breath. But they are not wrong.


    She walked over to take a seat next to him. What troubles you? Is the crown a heavier burden than you expected?


    Perhaps, though I feel my time as amander did well to prepare me.


    No doubt it did.


    He exhaled slowly once again. My friend diedst evening.


    I am so sorry. She moved a little closer, taking his hand in between her own to caress it. Who?


    Master Quill. You would have seen him at the assembly. Thew keeper.


    I remember. He did look very poorly.


    Indeed. I knew he was ill, and yet Brands voice became unsteady. I kept thinking I should go to see him, but something always interrupted me. And I thought that tomorrow, I would have another chance. And the day after that. He turned his head towards her. How could I have failed to find just a few moments? Now it is toote.


    She leaned her head on his shoulder. Your time is no longer your own. He spent his life in service to this kingdom. He would have understood.


    He died thinking I did not care.


    He knew. Of course he did. You do not hide your thoughts, Brand, and those around you never doubt your affections.


    He grasped her hand tightly and leaned his own head against hers. I am d you are here.


    So am I.

 Chapter 207: A King and his Knight

    Chapter 207: A King and his Knight


    As the days became weeks, Middanhal breathed with greater ease. The peace between North and South held, the reign of the king continued without issue or challenge, and with trade to Vidrevi and Heohlond flowing freely, coin and work became more abundant. Rumours of ounders seemed for now to be merely that, and the mood in the city was carefree to the near point of exuberance.


    This held especially true for one tavern in Lowtown. It seemed ordinary in all respects except one; many of Brandspanions gathered in this ce, and merriment followed them. Especially as their number included a bard, full of tales about the new king. This lured many other patrons in, and the proprietor rushed from table to table, aided by his daughter. Thetter proved the reason why this particr establishment held such favour, being married to an archer in Brands following.


    From a chair in the corner, Nichs watched his wife serve food and drink around the tavern. Next to him, Quentin sorted through the feathers on his arrows, asionally ncing at Troy performing. You need not stare, the second archer said to the first. You live with her. You can see her all the time.


    Two years, Quentin. Two years in Hthiod and the Reach.


    Yes, I know.


    Avoiding ounder arrows and spears at every turn.


    I was present as well.


    Many times I never thought Id make it back to my wife.


    I could think of something worse, Quentin imed.


    Like what?


    Coming home to a pregnant wife.


    How would that  Nichs expression turned from questioning to annoyed. Funny.


    I thought so myself.


    Look!


    Quentin sighed. Ive seen her, weve been here for weeks


    No, you sour-apple, its ukos!


    Opposite the room, the stocky Hthian entered the tavern along with Geberic. The two archers rose and gestured for the neers to join them. In the centre of the room, Troy began performing the song of the Dragonheart, which had already found great favour among the clientele.


    Ellen, Nichs shouted over the din of the other patrons, can you find something for our friends to drink? She motioned an affirmative reply, and he turned his attention back on the others. Come, have a seat!


    Another time, Im not walking two hours through the city just for a mug of ale, Geberic grumbled.


    Quiet, ukos growled. It does you good.


    Some things have not changed, Nichs remarked. Thank you, he added as Ellen ced two tankards more on the table, tussling her husbands hair before disappearing again.


    And some have. Quentin looked at the golden dragon on ukos surcoat. We are in the presence of the kings champion and his cupbearer.


    You could have be kingthanes, if you wanted, Geberic pointed out, grabbing his tankard.


    Thats work for de boys. Quentins condescending expression made his thoughts on the matter clear.


    Were taking charge of the kings archer regiments, Nichs exined. Theyre talking of sending us south soon.


    While the pair of you can grow fat staying at the Citadel, Quentin muttered. Shouldnt you be at the castle now, bearing the kings cup or whatnot?


    Obviously, I dont do it all the time. It just means Im his most trusted servant when he needs it, Geberic retorted. Besides, you cant talk to me like that anymore. Im a beorn now. Its milord and his lordship for you lot.


    ukos turned his head slightly to give Geberic an appraising look. If that is the case, I can recall a good number of times where you have failed to show such deference towards me.


    The greybeard frowned. Are you nobleborn?


    No, they let any beggar on the street train under Count Hubert to be a Kings de, ukos growled.


    I thought as much. Heathmen are so primitive. Geberic shook his head and took a deep draught from his ale, ignoring the stares from the three Hthians at the table.


    ~~~~


    The brush in Eleanors hand carefully went through Arndis dark hair. Are you sure he will agree to your suggestion?


    My brother can be emotional, but once he calms down, he always sees reason, Arndis imed.


    You would know better than me. Eleanor stopped the repetitive movement to look at Arndis face in the vanity mirror. Are you not apprehensive at all at the prospect?


    My dear, I already once travelled into the camp of the Isarn army, and that is when they were considered our enemies. I can handle one of them.


    Eleanor resumed her brush strokes. He just seems so dour. If it were the elder brother, at least you would be jarlinna.


    Arndis shrugged. I am the kings sister. There is no position more powerful for me than that.


    Except to be queen. Well, which you cannot be. Eleanor chuckled anxiously. I suppose even with his disposition, Sir Eumund seems a far better man than his father, she quickly added.


    Indeed.


    They are a strange sort, the House of Isarn. Each of them has his own foibles.


    I would not say that of Sir Athelstan, Arndis remarked, choosing earrings from her box of jewellery. He is a fine man in every regard.


    He does have certain qualities about him, Eleanor agreed.


    To say the least. Wit and courteous manner, resolve and courage.


    Once again, Eleanor regarded her friend in the mirror. You might say a greater man than any of his nephews.


    I suppose. Arndis raised two different earrings into the air. Which one do you favour?


    ~~~~


    Brand stood in the great chamber that served as the heart of the Order. With clerks and ledgers to one side, the main space was upied by therge map painted on the floor of the Seven Realms. Wooden blocks illustrated the armies of the Order scattered across the kingdoms. Othersy stacked in Hthiod, showing the strength of the ounders.


    The lord marshal appeared. My king, he spoke, approaching with a letter in hand.


    Brand looked over his shoulder. What is it?


    I have word from Ealond.


    That was swift. The king nced north-east on the map. Cairn Donn is closer than Fontaine, yet I have heard nothing from Doran.


    King Brin is wily, the knight considered. He may be dying, waiting to see what happens.


    Perhaps. If he refuses to support us, it will not be forgotten, Brand dered. What of Ealond?


    Sir Martel writes that all his spare troops have been sent to Herbergja. It is expected that once the southerners take Portesur, they will move against Herbergja next. If they control the ports, we are cut off from Thusund.


    He must have something left, Brand eximed. Ealond cannot be emptied of soldiers!


    We do have a pledge of troops of six thousand troops, though not from the Order.


    Who?


    The duke of Belvoir, William exined.


    Brand frowned. That is unexpected.


    From what I can discern, reading the marshals letter The knight skimmed the parchment. The duke is anxious that proper opposition is mounted against Alczar, but he has no desire to fight under King Rainiers banner. I imagine he hopes that by helping us repel the ounders, we may in turn aid Ealond afterwards.


    He would be right. Eventually. Brand waved for a clerk to approach. Have six thousand men from Belvoir added to the map.


    Yes, my king.


    There is another matter to discuss, William considered.


    Which is?


    We have reinforcements ready to march to Hthiod. They may link up with the army from Belvoir at Lake Myr and continue onwards. That will be enough to oppose the ounders first army until their second arrives, the lord marshal exined. With speed and skill, we may hold them back from Ingmond long enough to begin harvesting.


    Very well, dispatch the troops.


    The question is who should lead them.


    You are lord marshal. Who better?


    It took a moment for William to answer. Apart from the king, the most ablemander in the realms would be Sir Athelstan.


    Brand let out a deep sigh. I made him a knight so that he could swing a sword. I would not entrust him withmanding an outpost in Vidrevi, let alone this army. He looked down to see the earlier summoned clerk trying to ce bricks in Hthiod by his feet. For gods sake, man, wait till I am gone! The servant crawled backwards with bowed head.


    Yet if ites to battle with the ounders  or if skilful retreat is needed to avoid battle on poor terms  we could not ask for a better captain, William cautiously argued.


    Last time Sir Athelstan was sent to Lake Myr, he betrayed the Order and led an attack on its camp.


    Which will never be forgotten. But the king has forgiven him, the knight pointed out, and it is not my ce to cast further aspersions on him.


    Not yours, but I will do so if I see fit.


    Of course. But given the difficulty of the task ahead William lowered his voice. Thousands of lives, your soldiers, your subjects, will depend on who is inmand, Brand. If there is the smallest chance that Sir Athelstan might prove the difference between victory or defeat, I must urge you to rely on him.


    Brand stared at his lord marshal as moments passed. Finally, he looked at the nearest kingthane. Find Sir Athelstan and Sir Fionn. Summon them to my chambers.


    At once, my king.


    ~~~~


    The sound of chattering women echoed down the hallways in the royal wing. Due to her new status as the kings sister, Arndis had a flock of noblewomen following her at all times, courting andpeting for her favour. At mealtimes, she chose herpanions freely, and if inclined, she allowed them to apany her back to her quarters afterwards. Thus apanied by this evenings choice, Arndis moved through the Citadel towards her chambers.


    Reaching their destination, they found a kingthane standing outside the open door. Frowning, Arndis approached with a question on her face.


    You have a visitor, mdy, the guard exined, standing aside to reveal the alderman patiently waiting inside.


    Thank you. You may leave, Arndis told him. The same goes for all of you, she added, aimed at herpanions.


    It took a moment for her words to sink in through the idle conversation. The noblewomen fell quiet, exchanged looks, and left.


    Once alone, Arndis stepped inside, closing the door. Smiling at Edwin, she inclined her head. Master alderman, a pleasure as always.


    And as always, mdy, entirely mine. Edwin gave as much a bow as his body allowed.


    You havee on business, I presume?


    Indeed. Your help is needed, in fact.


    How so?


    May I? The alderman pointed to a chair.


    Please.


    They both sat down, and Edwin cleared his throat. We have prepared another train of trade for departure, but with rumours of war, there is some concern.


    Concern regarding what?


    In times of strife, merchants are the first to be attacked. We seek the kings help and may in turn be of help to him.


    And you wish for me to facilitate this exchange of aid, Arndis considered.


    Astute as always. The jarl of Vale had several mercenarypanies in his employ, and I understand that their contracts have been taken over by the Crown.


    I am not familiar with the details, but I am sure your intelligence is correct. It always seems to be.


    The alderman smiled with an attempt at looking modest. I expect the king will announce war taxes any day, he continued. Especially on merchants. My suggestion is simple.


    You have my attention.


    Allow us to pay for one of the mercenarypanies. The Unbroken Shields will be suitable. In turn, we may use them to guard our caravans during perilous journeys. Most of them will remain in Middanhal, of course, avable to defend the city or march with the king as he needs.


    He may not be amenable to any situation that pulls even a single soldier away from his army.


    Coin is needed to pay for those soldiers, and protecting our trade will allow us to pay our taxes, the alderman argued. We need only a few hundred swords at any given time. Their absence will hardly be felt. And should mdy be able to convince the king of this, the merchants guild will be grateful.


    Arndis fingers yed with her earring. How much would this gratitude be worth?


    Your share of our next venture would increase from one fourth to one third.


    I shall speak to the king on your behalf.


    The alderman rose and made half a bow. Truly a pleasure to be in business with you, mdy.


    ~~~~


    A thane of Vale knocked on the door to Valerie''s room. "Enter," came her voice.


    Mdy, the jarl of Isarn wishes to meet you."


    "Oh. Let him in," she replied. As the thane left, she quickly looked in the mirror, fixing a stray lock of hair.


    Momentster, the young jarl entered. He gave a bow, which she returned. "Mydy."


    "Lord Isenwald, a pleasure."


    "Likewise." He wore a cautious smile that quickly faded. "I am sorry  it took me a while to visit."


    "No harm done. These have been most difficult times. I am only d that enmity between our houses is at an end."


    "As am  I." He cleared his throat. "I wanted to know my situation before  I came to see you. Thankfully, the king has been merciful."


    "He has." A smile dawned on her lips. "I saw you at the audience. For the first time since..."


    "I  did not see you, s, or  I would have spoken to you."


    "It is no matter. I figured we would speak when the asion arose."


    "As  it has now." He cleared his throat again, looking nervous. "I came to say..."


    "Yes?"


    "I know time has passed where we had little contact," he began to say. "But you should know," he continued, hesitating, "my feelings remain  they have not  I still feel as "


    "The same for me," she interjected.


    He exhaled in relief. "Good. Thank you for  interrupting me, or that sentence would never have reached an end."


    Sheughed, born of the same emotion as his sigh, and he joined in.


    ~~~~


    Athelstan sat in the antechamber that led to the kings quarters, watched by several kingthanes. He did not reciprocate, but simply stared into the air while tapping his fingers against the hilt of his sword. After a while, Fionn appeared. The hignder knight grunted and took a seat as well.


    You have also been summoned? Athelstan asked.


    Aye.


    That gives me a better idea what this might be about.


    We will know soon enough. The hignder pointedly looked elsewhere.


    A kingthane appeared from the inner rooms. Sir Athelstan. The king awaits you.


    The knight rose and followed the guard until he stood before Brand in the chamber serving as study and for private audiences. Seated by his desk writing, the king looked up to see Athelstan bow.


    I will be brief, Brand dered, cing his quill in the inkwell. I have given youmand of the Orders army assembled to fight the ounders. Sir Fionn will serve as your first lieutenant.


    I am pleased to serve, my king.


    The lord marshal will have your orders in detail. That will be all. Athelstan bowed again. As he withdrew, Brand looked at the apanying kingthane. Bring Sir Fionn to me.


    One knight left and another appeared. Fionn wore a broad smile as he bowed his head. At yourmand, my king.


    Brand finished the deration he had been writing and looked up. You will apany Sir Athelstan as his first lieutenant to take charge of the Orders army.


    With pleasure.


    Brand sprinkled powder from a small container onto the document, helping the ink to dry. Besides your usual task, I have another for you.


    At your service, my king.


    You are to observe Sir Athelstan at all times. If he gives you the slightest reason to doubt his loyalty, seize him. If he resists, he should not be allowed to survive and escape. Pouring the residual powder back into the container, Brand looked up. Is that understood?


    With rity.


    Good. Brand folded the parchment and heated wax to seal it. This document contains your instructions, should any doubt your word. Pressing his si ring into the red wax, he extended the sealed document to the knight, who stepped forward to receive it. Last I had need of you, you proved worthy of my trust. I have no doubt you will do so again.


    Fionn grinned, waving the parchment in his hand. Happy to serve.


    ~~~~


    The day had almost ended when Godfrey slipped through the city gates. A crowd of people moved in both directions, as rumours of war increased traffic; some sought refuge in the city while others deemed it best to flee, all ording to their own wisdom.


    Of those who left, nearly all followed the Kingsroad south-west for two reasons. Firstly, it followed the Mihtea, allowing freshwater during the journey. Secondly, Ealondy in that direction, promising safe harbour should the ounders reach Adalrik.


    As the only person, Godfrey moved south-east. Once alone, he began to whistle as he walked. Eventually, a sparrow approached; as he stretched out his hand, itnded in his grasp. He whispered words to it and released the bird, watching it fly north; as for himself, he continued his march towards Hthiod.

 Chapter 208: The End of the Beginning

    Chapter 208: The End of the Beginning


    Three men sat together out of sight, hiding in the sparse vegetation that could be found on the heaths of Hthiod. Their dark clothing, and in particr their footwear, marked them as ckboots. They served as advance scouts and sometimes spies for the ounders, dependent on need. Adept atbat and tracking while avoiding being trailed in turn.


    "How long until we can speak with Javed?" asked Dariush.


    "He said to expect another month," Kamran replied.


    "One of us could go further in disguise," Arman suggested, looking towards the north-west. "Find him and warn him."


    Kamran shook his head. "We will not find him unless he wishes to be found, and he will not know to make himself known. He would never approve of such risk that holds barely any promise of reward."


    "What are we to do, in that case?" asked Dariush. His eyes moved from west to east, turning from distant fields towards the barren heath. "We have seen nothing of the drnders to expect they are prepared to resist."


    "We trust Javed and his vision. We stay hidden, as always. We wait for the right moment," Kamran stressed upon hispanions.


    The other men nodded slowly. "Until the morrowes," Arman spoke.


    "Until the morrowes," Kamran assented.


    "May ite soon," Dariush sighed.


    With cautious looks at their surroundings, the three men dispersed, leaving the border between Adalrik and Hthiod in different directions.


    ~~~~


    A hundred miles south of Tothmor near a rare source of freshwater, the camp of the oundersy arraigned with the same discipline and precision that characterised their cities. The tents stood raised in small, even sections, allowing for pathways as necessary. One break from uniformity could be found in one corner with fences for horses, cksmiths, cobblers, and other needed craftsmen nearby.


    The centre of the camp held the other exception. The Servants of the me, blessing the troops before battle, had their own tent, as did each of themanders. As could be expected, thergest belonged to Sikandar, captain of the Godkings forces. Victor of the initial campaign against Hthiod, he led the ounder army once again.


    Inside his tent, the leaders had gathered at Sikandarsmand. A priest dressed in fiery robes could also be found along with two shadow warriors; more of their number prowled the camp or surrounding area, always watching for enemies of one or the other kind.


    "Our brave syag have returned," Sikandar dered to the othermanders. He was seated on a sofa with the shadow warriors nking him. Cloth surrounded their faces, and underneathy the steel masks that further hid their visage; only their yellow eyes stared with intensity, rarely if ever blinking. With nervous nces at the dreaded guards, the lieutenants turned their attention towards Sikandar. "We have the location of all their troops. There are none in sufficient numbers to threaten this army, let alone what will follow from the homnd. Tomorrow, we continue our march."


    Exmations of satisfaction from themanders followed Sikandars words. "Will we face battle soon?" one of them asked.


    "Only if they are fools enough to believe they can stand against us when we are four to one," Sikandar replied with satisfaction. "Most likely, they will scatter before us as we march upon their city. Especially given the news that the esteemed Servant has received."


    They all turned their attention on the priest. "You have heard the rumours, no doubt," he began to say, basking in their attention. "They are true. The army about to leave our homnds is being led by the Godking himself. Atst, as we have prayed and sacrificed for a thousand times thousand, the god in the mountain has awakened."


    "Praise be his name!"


    "All for the Godking!"


    The captains repeated the sentiment in various ways, while a few of them nced at the silent shadow warriors; none could guess as to their state of mind or mood.


    "This will be the end of our long war," Sikandar proimed. "The Godking himself will bring us the final victory. But we must all do our part for his glory if we are to be worthy of hising."


    "Without question," mumbled the priest.


    "We shall strike first and swiftly, preparing the way into the heart of our enemy. An honour we have not deserved, given the setbacks we have suffered in this drynd." Sikandar looked at Rostam, who had lost Tothmor to the Orders campaign under Brand.


    "There are limits to the Godkings mercy," dered the Servant of the me. "He will not spare those who prove unworthy."


    "Do not fail he who is most holy," Sikandar added with a stern gaze at his lieutenants.


    "We would never."


    "All for the Godking!"


    "Spread the word. Let the men know we march tomorrow, and that we march for the glory of the Godking," Sikandarmanded. The soldiers bowed their heads and left; one of the shadow warriors followed.


    ~~~~


    The next day, the ounder army broke camp. Supplied from Lakon in southern Hthiod and beyond, theycked for nothing. Provisions, material, horses, draught animals, and everything else an army might need for battle or siege. Dozens of ckboots left before dawn, spreading across the area in advance. The vanguard followed, consisting of infantry armed with bows, ready to fight any skirmish.


    Marching with discipline for many days, the main army crossed the border to enter Adalrik. The fertilends of Ingmondy before them; in the furthest distance, the hills that separated the jarldom from inner Adalrik could be seen. In betweeny Inghold, capital of the province and home to the holiest site for Rihimil. In ancient times, a dragon had been in upon that ce by the hero Alfmod, halting the advance of an ancient enemy. The story would not be repeated in this particr case; as thendy bereft of heroes and armies in sufficient numbers, nothing stood in the ounders way.

 Chapter 209: The Road to War

    Chapter 209: The Road to War


    In the heart of southern Adalriky Lake Myr. As a great reservoir connected to the river Sureste, it allowed for bountiful farnds. The abundance of water also made it an obvious campsite for when the Order or other armies mustered in times of war. With troops being drawn from across the realm along with Ealond to the west and Korndale to the south, theke once again proved to be a natural ce to assemble.


    Due to this, a thousand footmen and fifty knights had made camp on the northern shore, in the gap between the hills that separated central Adalrik from the eastern part. They had marched from Middanhal to fight in Hthiod, same as the Order army already present had done so three years ago. Athelstan heldmand, which was another simrity, though that had ended with the House of Isarn rebelling and the knight turning on his own men. If any held grievance due to this, they kept it to themselves, but Fionn, the first lieutenant, kept close to Athelstan at all waking hours.


    ~~~~


    As always, the captain had his tent in one part of the Orders camp while the first lieutenant had his in the other. For that reason, on the next day, Fionn crossed the enclosure to join Athelstan in thetters dwelling. He entered to find Eumund already present.


    "Sir Fionn," Athelstan greeted him. "I have bid Sir Eumund join us. He has shown himself a capable leader, and I would rely on him as a second lieutenant, should battle take ce."


    The hignder barely gave the other knight a nce. "We have all had cause to hone our skills ofte," he remarked gruffly.


    "Quite." Athelstan cleared his throat and gestured towards the map of Adalmearc, lying on a small table. "The ounders are expected to reach Ingmond any day now. I have sent word for the Order army to retreat beyond the Sureste. If we hold the western bank, that will hamper their ability to encircle Inghold itself."


    "While we may harass them in skirmishes and minor sorties before retreating back across the river," Eumund added, nodding. "And if they seek to cross the river themselves, they will pay for it."


    "I suppose that is as good a n as any," Fionn acknowledged. "When do we march?"


    "We wait for now. Reinforcements from the duke of Belvoir along with more supplies should be on their way," Athelstan exined.


    "We are not much good here if the fighting is at the river," Fionn argued. "How long will we wait for a bunch of rivermen?"


    "All avable provisions in Ingmond have been brought inside Inghold in anticipation of the siege," Athelstan pointed out. "If we leave now, we add another thousand men to feed without bringing the supplies to do so."


    "The army already holds the western bank," Eumund added. "Should the enemy advance, they can hold it for a while."


    Fionn looked from one son of Isarn to another. "We better hope so. If that is all." He gave a curt nod and left.


    "I am not one to stress courtesy, but even I find his mannerscking," Eumund said, taking a seat. "He should not forget whomands this army."


    Athelstan bent over the table, moving chess pieces around the map to show troop locations. "He defended the Citadel against your fathers assault. It must be expected he bears resentment. As long as he obeys his orders when the timees, I will not press the matter."


    Eumund drummed his fingers against the sheath of his sword. "We are here now, fighting the same enemy as he is. You would think he might appreciate the realities of war."


    "Give it time," Athelstan mumbled, moving the pieces around. "There is nothing like victory to make people change their tune."


    "Considering the numbers we face, is victory even a possibility? What can we do but dy?"


    "Nothing," the captain admitted, "but dy will be its own victory. Our king is gathering forces every day. And defending the Sureste may buy us weeks or even months."


    "I suppose." Eumund ceased his restless hand movement. "Uncle, did we make the right choice?"


    Athelstan raised his head to look at him. "Of course. The strife within the realm would have left us defenceless against this threat from the Reach."


    "We betrayed my father," Eumund considered. "At least when we broke our oath to the Order, we could im that loyalty to blood had greater weight. Now we have betrayed both oath and blood."


    "And that will always weigh on me," his uncle admitted. "But I would have felt greater guilt if the civil war continued."


    "But now we serve a king whom I suspect has no cordial feelings towards us," Eumund said. "He could not wait to send us into battle."


    "He has shown us honour by giving memand, Eumund, thereby making great strides to put past enmity between us all, North and South," the elder knight imed.


    "I only hope that honour does not lead to your death," his younger counterpart replied. "I have already lost one father."


    Athelstan stood in silence. When he spoke, his words came slowly, but emphatic. "You will not. I promise you that."


    Eumund nodded curtly, rose, and left the tent.


    ~~~~


    "Sir Fionn!" The name was called by a frantic voice. The knight opened his eyes to look towards the opening of his tent; dawn had yet to arrive. The soldier calling for him stuck his head inside. "Sir Athelstan bids you hurry to join him."


    The knight tumbled out of his nkets to grab his sword belt. "Are we under attack?"


    "No, sir, but the captain has given the order to break camp."


    The soldier disappeared. Cursing, Fionn strapped his belt around him and rushed outside. He found a camp hectic with activity; everywhere, tents were being pulled down. Striding through camp, he found Athelstan barking orders.


    "What is amiss?" Fionn shouted over the noise.


    "A messenger just arrived," Athelstan replied, lowering his voice as the other knight reached him. "He rode through the night from the Order army. The ounders are on the western bank of the Sureste."


    "How in Hels name is that possible?"


    "They crossed up north and swept down," came the answer. "They have outmanoeuvred us. Instead ofying siege to Inghold, they are marching straight past, pursuing our forces."


    "But thest reports said they were still in Hthiod!" Fionn yelled.


    "Clearly, their knowledge of our movements far exceeds what we know of theirs," Athelstan remarked. "Hurry up, man!" he continued, shouting at a soldier loading sacks onto a cart. "Get your horse saddled," he added at Fionn. "I want every knight riding ahead. We need to get there before ites to battle."


    "Aye, captain," the hignder knight replied, hurrying away.

 Chapter 210: No Other Place to Be

    Chapter 210: No Other ce to Be


    Two dayster, Athelstan and the other knights reached the Orders army on its hasty retreat through Ingmond. They arrived at night, finding a camp in disarray; the hurried march left no time for the usual discipline. Weariness could be seen on the face of every soldier, and fear subdued only by exhaustion haunted their words. Yet seeing the ride of fifty knights as they entered camp, moods and voices rose with the hope that aid hade.


    "Find me Sir Ewind," Athelstanmanded even before dismounting his horse, and soldiers scattered in every direction to carry out the order.


    ~~~~


    "Our losses so far have been light, all things considered," Ewind told Athelstan, Fionn, and Eumund. The four knights stood together in the middle of the camp, pulling their cloaks together to shield against the harsh wind. "But they are hot on our heels. Our rearguard has been fighting every day for five days now, buying us time. How many reinforcements do you bring?"


    "Not enough to give battle. Tell us everything you know from the start," Athelstan bade him.


    "We retreated past the Sureste," Ewind rted. "Set up camp and kept in close touch with Inghold, preparing the city for a siege while keeping watch. With barely any warning, three thousand ounders came upon us from the north. Along with their cavalry, we had a hard time fending them off." The fresh cuts and nicks on the knights face added to his story. "We fought for two days, but while we were kept busy, their main army arrived and began crossing the river. Facing envelopment, I gave the order to retreat." He looked at the others with a heavy expression.


    "You did right," Athelstan assured him. "What were your losses?"


    "About five hundred dead or so. It has been hard to get an urate count," Ewind admitted. "But at least half the remaining men have wounds, some worse than others."


    "I would not have thought them so brazen," Fionn said. "They will be risking their supply lines, leaving Inghold in our hands."


    "With their second army on the march, they can afford it, and they have put us on the back heel," Athelstan pointed out. "It is clear we must not underestimate our foe. He is determined and cunning."


    "So what do we do?" asked Eumund. "If we keep retreating, they will keep harassing us."


    Athelstan scratched the short beard on his cheek. "Thend grows narrow between Lake Myr and the hills to the north. We have a thousand footmen that will reach us soon. Those will be the best terms for battle. We fight as long as we can, giving the impression our numbers are strong enough to hold. That should buy us time and opportunity for an orderly retreat."


    "What of Belvoir? He has six thousand men marching towards thiske." Fionn threw his hand out, gesturing towards the water. "With those numbers, defending the gap, we will not just pretend to hold."


    Athelstan frowned, looking sceptical. "I doubt he can reach us here in time, but if we are able to retreat, we may find another suitable battlefield further west and join forces with him."


    Eumund took a deep breath, hesitating before he spoke. "It seems to me that our choice is either a harried retreat today, or fighting that we may have a slightly less harried retreat tomorrow. If those are our options, so be it. But we should not let the men know. Tell only of reinforcementsing."


    "Agreed," Athelstan said.


    "Staying here to fight with barely any hope seems harsh," Ewind weighed in; doubty across his face.


    "That is our duty. The king needs time to gather troops. We must buy it for him," Athelstan dered.


    "Aye," Fionn dered.


    Eumund hesitated before looking at his uncle. "So be it."


    ~~~~


    Since they would not be continuing their hurried flight, Athelstan let the men rest for the remainder of the night; the closest thing to decent sleep that any of them had experienced in several days. With battle on the horizon, every small advantage mattered. To that end, the captain bid them all eat heartily rather than spare their provisions; they would need all their strength soon enough.


    With theke to the south and hills to the north, cavalry had a limited role to y. Instead, Athelstan bid his knights dismount and take position among the ranks, fortifying the footmen. The few hundred archers were ced in the hills along with spearmen to defend them. No troops were kept in reserve; the Order soldiers stood barely four lines deep.


    They had barely moved into position before the enemy could be spotted. Few, at first. Scouts and skirmishers, the spearhead of the vanguard. Seeing closed ranks rather than retreating foes, the ounders did not approach. They returned to theirrades, bearing news that the Mearcians stood ready to give battle. The back lines of the Order soldiers sat down on the grass, resting while time still permitted this. An hour after the scouts had been sighted, the ounders returned.


    They advanced. One row of spearmen in front protected the rest, taking out bows to send a barrage of arrows against the Mearcians. Large shields and heavy armour held. Witnessing little effect, closebat inevitably followed. In their red robes, the Anausa infantry stormed forward. Spears met spears, battle cries filled the air, and blood was spilt.


    Fighting in the gap betweenke and hills, the ounders could not take advantage of their greater numbers. Instead, they continued to rain down arrows, aiming at the back lines. Bodies began to fill the ground, never to rise again.


    Once both sides were heavily entrenched, Jenaab Sikandar made his next move and sent in his cavalry. Facing only footmen, the obvious choice would be to outnk the Mearcians. Two hundred riders, moving in a thin wedge, galloped southwest to reach the narrow strip ofnd between the Order lines and theke. Another three hundred horsemen rode northwest, entering the hills that overlooked the battleground.


    Sir Fionn held the southern nk. Seeing the cavalry thunder towards his position, he barked orders above the din of fighting. The back rows of his soldiers pulled away and rushed to fill the remaining gap. In the soft ground by thekeshore, their boots began to sink. Between the terrain and the terror of battle, the Mearcians struggled to form ranks. What should be a forest of spears aimed at the advancing horsemen became a barrenndscape.


    Yet the terrain gave no favours to the ounders either; the horses could not maintain their speed in the mire. In response, some of the cavalrymen pulled left, further into theke to extend the outnking manoeuvre. Disruption on both sides served neither, yet losing momentum pulled the fangs from the ounders charge. Disjointed fighting erupted instead between Mearcians on foot and ounders on horseback.


    To the north, the ounder cavalry rode at a slower pace; the hilly terrain made it necessary, but it also let them spare their horses for a swift chargeter. They moved in a wide circle, aiming to eventually circumvent the Mearcians entirely and make a devastating assault into their back lines.


    Before they reached their goal, they met Sir Eumunds forces sent into the hills earlier. Longbowmen protected by spearmen had kept out of sight, expecting this tactic. As the ounders came riding over another ridge, they mmed straight into the Order soldiers. Arrows and spears butchered the horses, sending the cavalrymen tumbling to the ground. Completely caught out, Jenaab Rostam called a swift retreat rather than risk losing every remaining soldier.


    Their taskplete, Sir Eumunds troops marched through the hills to join the main battle. Well positioned, the archers sent volleys against the ounders fighting below. Yet the red-robed soldiers had numbers to spare; absorbing the losses, reinforcements moved in. Some supported theirrades already in the fray while others moved into the hills to fight the spears and bows. The bloodletting continued.


    ~~~~


    The hours passed. Despite inferior numbers, the Mearcians held. The ounders had ced their hopes on a swift assault to overwhelm exhausted troops with low morale, underestimating their foe. Calling a retreat, the ounders pulled back in orderly manner. A barrage of arrows warned the Order soldiers not to pursue, though it proved superfluous; the men of the Star watched their enemy retreat with relief on their faces and mumbled many prayers of gratitude.


    Pulling back to their primitive camp, the Mearcians began tending to the wounded and recing broken weapons by taking those of the dead; they also set a strong watch in case the ounders should return.


    Meanwhile, Athelstan met with his nkmanders. Despite holding the enemy back against expectations, despite what could be considered a victory, their faces looked grim.


    "Our losses have been too heavy," Athelstan considered. "If we attempt a retreat now, they will fall upon us like wolves. The moment we abandon this gap, they will destroy us."


    "We held them today," his nephew argued. "We may do so again."


    "We cannot expect tomorrow to favour us," Athelstan admitted. "They sought a swift victory, which allowed us room to manoeuvre, but tomorrow they will be cautious. They will send arge number of infantry through the hills to outnk us. If they have timber, rafts on theke will allow them to makendfall behind our lines. Just a few hundred men would wreak havoc."


    "We could take position in the hills, all of us," Fionn suggested. "That will make up for their greater numbers."


    "If so, they will simply ignore us," the captain pointed out. "They are only forced to give battle because we block their path, and we know them to be decisive. If we yield the road, they will march past us and threaten the rest of Adalrik."


    "Cutting off Belvoirs forces and any other reinforcements sent our way. Not to mention, we will be trapped between this army and the next one they have on the way," Eumund continued.


    "Six thousand soldiers from Ealond marching towards here. The thousand men we brought, which should arrive tomorrow. And most likely, another one or two thousand leaving Middanhal to reinforce us further." Athelstan exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. "If we flee, they might kill, capture, or prevent nearly ten thousand soldiers from defending Middanhal, should the fates be cruel. And that excludes this army."


    "So what do we do?" asked Eumund.


    The two lieutenants looked at their captain. "I will send a messenger warning the duke of Belvoir to hurry north. Not to mention, we have perhaps two thousand wounded here, who in time can fight again," Athelstan considered. "There is only one choice. We dispatch the wounded to leave now and march through the night. Those of us still ready for battle, including our reinforcements arriving tomorrow, must stay and hold another day. Gods willing, that will buy enough time before the ounders can pour into Adalrik."


    Silence lingered between the three men, only disturbed by screams of agony from across the camp; some wounds killed slowly. "As youmand," Eumund finally said.


    "Aye," Fionn assented. "Just one more day of fighting. We can do that."


    "But the retreat of the wounded, coordinating with Belvoirs forces, and organising their escape," Eumund spoke again. "Every moment counts, and every soldier saved might turn the warter on. A task of such importance must be overseen by our best captain." He stared at his uncle.


    "No." Athelstan shook his head. "I was givenmand of this army. I will stay behind."


    "Sir Fionn, let me speak alone with our captain."


    "I will tell the wounded to prepare for march," the hignder muttered and left.


    "Eumund, do not even try."


    "You are being a fool." The young knights expression mirrored his harsh words. "The battle has already been decided. Nothing remains but to fight it. Your presence here would not make a difference."


    "As captain, I am not abandoning my army. You will lead the retreat."


    "Listen," Eumund hissed between gritted teeth. "Tactical movements will not matter tomorrow. We have no soldiers left to execute them. We can do nothing but fight, and I wield a de as well as you."


    "In which case, it makes no difference if I wield it or you." Pointedly, Athelstan looked past his nephew. "I will stay."


    "No!" The outburst caught the attention of those nearby. Lowering his voice, Eumund grabbed his uncle by the shoulder. "Sooner orter, all these ounders will swarm across Adalrik. When that timees, you will be needed tomand the defence. You know I am right, but you let your feelings blind you."


    Finally, Athelstan looked at his nephew. "How am I to stand before your brother and tell him that I abandoned you?" Expressions of pity, fear, or other emotions struggled for control of his face.


    "You stand with pride," Eumund impressed upon him, "and you tell Isenwald that his brother fought for the honour of Isarn. You tell him that I have done my duty, as you must now do yours."


    Athelstan ced both hands on the shoulders of the younger knight. "I cannot lose you, boy." He shook his head. "I will not."


    "Uncle, I will not forgive nor ever respect you again, unless you do what we both know to be right," Eumund dered. "I renewed my oath as a knight because you did. If you dishonour it now, if you choose family over your duty as a knight once again, you make a mockery of us both."


    Athelstan stared at his nephew. Foregoing words, he pulled Eumund into an embrace.


    The young man returned it before pulling back. "Farewell, Uncle. I will seek what sleep I can. A long day awaits me tomorrow."


    ~~~~


    Shortly after sunrise, the ounders marched forward in force. Their ranks were deep, like a sea of red; the Mearcians stood less than three thousand. A few hundred soldiers, including every remaining knight, had been sent to the hills; reversely, the longbowmen had been positioned behind the main army on t ground.


    The Anausa marched forward slowly. Unlike yesterday, they did not seem in a hurry. Those with sharpest eyes could spot more red robes in the far distance, moving into the hills.


    A man rode through the ranks of the ounders, continuing forward. He wore the fire-touched robe marking him a priest of the Godking. His lone approach ahead of the army made it clear he came to offer terms. Once within earshot, his voice rang out across the muddy stretch ofnd separating the two forces, still bloody from yesterdays engagement.


    "Ie before you on behalf of Jenaab Sikandar," the herald dered in fluent Nordspeech, "who leads the glorious armies sanctified by the holiest majesty, the Godking." He received no reply other than the wind whipping the banners of the Order. "Jenaab Sikandar acknowledges your courage, and he has no wish to see you all ughtered. You proved your valour yesterday. Now prove your wisdom. Lay down your arms and surrender to the Godkings mercy. You shall find his rule benevolent."


    The lines of the Order soldiers separated to let Fionn walk through. "Come closer," the knight yelled. "I cannot stab you from this distance!" Anxiousughter resonated through the ranks.


    "Your boastful defiance is almost admirable, yet it will not avail you. Surrender and you may live in peace and plenty," the herald imed. "Only a fool would choose death."


    "Those are the words of a thrall," Fionn retorted, "and your master is nothing but a king of thralls."


    The Servant of the me turned his horse around, riding back to his own ranks, while they advanced. The second day of battle had begun.


    Arrows were exchanged to little effect. As yesterday, the shields and armour kept the Mearcians safe; on the other hand, their longbowmen were too few to make an impact on the ounders.


    The Order soldiers stood firm, awaiting their enemy. The Anausa approached. They lowered spears. Once again, battle cries tore through the air.


    ~~~~


    The battle was deadliest in the hills. Two thousand ounders had moved to outnk the Mearcians through this route; less than fifty knights and a few hundred men stood in their path. Their only advantagey in the terrain. It disrupted the ranks of the ounders, breaking up their advance. Hiding between the hills, the Mearcians struck without warning.


    Superior in equipment and training, the knights cut through the ounders. Encouraged, the Order soldiers threw themselves into the fray. The unexpected audacity of their assault lent surprise as another advantage. Yet all of this could notpare to the ounders being nearly ten to one. Surrounded, the Mearcians fell.


    On the tnd, the Order still held. Their longer spears andrger shields held the ounders at bay in the narrow gap. In response, Jenaab Sikandar gave his nextmand. A variety of vesselsunched into theke. Small fishing boats, taken from nearby viges. Rafts, primitive but able to float. All in all, hundreds of ounders sailed onto Lake Myr.


    Expecting this, the Mearcian longbowmen had saved most of their arrows. Now they aimed their bows south. Raising shields, the ounders protected the men rowing, and those standing often took a wound instead. As they closed the distance, some took out bows to return the favour;cking shields or strong armour, the longbowmen were easy targets. The other ounders jumped out of the boats and rafts. A handful were too eager or too short, and their boots did not find ground. Burdened by their equipment andcking the skill to swim, they drowned. The rest came ashore, ready to outnk the Mearcians. Drawing short swords, the longbowmen rushed forward, and where they met, the blood flowed into the water of theke.


    ~~~~


    To the north, soldiers began to appear. The first were Mearcians; the few who had managed to flee the ughter in the hills. Afterwards came the Anausa. Reaching the battleground, they struck into the Orders left nk. For a moment, the battle seemed over; enveloped on both sides, the defenders seemed overwhelmed.


    Yet the fighting in the hills had not been in vain, buying precious time. One thousand soldiers, thest of the reinforcements sent under Athelstan from Middanhal, arrived as well. The ounders to the north turned from attack to defence, struck in their own nk. Chaos spread across the field as battlelines disintegrated.


    In the midst of the mayhem, Sir Fionns standard bearer waved his banner to summon the lieutenants. Two men-at-arms appeared, meeting the knight in the middle of their own forces. All three were dyed in blood, both their own and that of others. The knight held half a spear, as it had broken earlier; the shield strapped to his arm hung low.


    "How long can you hold?" Fionn shouted amidst the sound of steel and screams.


    "Were falling apart," replied his lieutenant from the northern nk. "We wontst an hour!"


    "Were not faring much better," said the other. "Few archers remain, the rest dead or in flight. Theyll break through sooner orter."


    "The reinforcements have pushed them back briefly," added the first man-at-arms. "If we retreat now, thatll be our best chance to escape!"


    Fionn let his eyes sweep over the battlefield. Near him sat the wounded and dying, having crawled or been carried out of the frontline. To the north, red and ck colours met in mayhem. The centre and the south held for now, but the ranks were thin.


    "Once we break, Adalrik will be overrun," the knight muttered. "We have to hold until sunset," he continued with a loud voice. He turned to the second man-at-arms. "Get the wounded and retreat. Move through the night. If we hold until dark, that should give you time to flee."


    As one lieutenant hurried away to carry out themand, the other grabbed Fionn by the shoulder. "Theyll surround us," he shouted, fear overtaking his voice. "We wont get away!"


    The knight wrested his shoulder free, threw away the broken spear in his hand, and drew his sword. "Good," he retorted. "We have no other ce to be." He stepped across dying men in bloody mud to reach the northern nk, joining the fray.

 Chapter 211: He Died a Knight

    Chapter 211: He Died a Knight


    Many miles north of Lake Myr, six thousand rivermeny encamped. They had marched from the duchy of Belvoir across the border into Adalrik. At first, their destination had been the aforementionedke, aiming to link up with the Orders army and defend Ingmond against the ounders. The arrival of a messenger, exining that Ingmond was lost, had changed their course. Reaching the Kingsroad that ran from Middanhal to Inghold, the rivermen turned north rather than south.


    Two dayster, the first trickle of survivors caught up with Belvoirs forces. They brought tales of battle with the ounders; all of them bore wounds and suffered from grievous exhaustion and hunger. Some, having spent their strength trying to reach safety, died soon after.


    Witnessing this, the duke of Belvoir made a swift decision. He sent the train of his army along with the older warriors ahead, resuming the march to Middanhal. The younger, stronger, and lightly armoured soldiers, able to handle a forced march, stayed behind. Patrols left camp to scour for more survivors, and those remaining behind made stretchers to carry the wounded.


    Thus, the sight of hectic activity greeted Athelstan as he reached the camp as well. Soldiers pulled down tents and either packed them away for journey or gave them new purpose; with some rope or string, the poles and fabric could swiftly be turned into yet another stretcher.


    A riverman appeared, scrutinising Athelstans appearance. "Are you hurt, milord?" he asked, noticing the golden spurs denoting the other mans rank. "Theres food if you need it."


    "I am not hurt, and hunger may wait. I am Athelstan of Isarn, and I would speak with your duke."


    "Of course, milord." The soldier pointed down the camp. "Youll find him down there."


    With a nod, the knight hurried to follow the direction given. ncing around, he saw only soldiers, busy with their hands. "Where is the duke?"


    A man, upied with a horse and harness, straightened up and turned his head. "I am he." He pulled the straps and locked them in ce, allowing the horse to carry a wounded soldier.


    "I am Sir Athelstan," the knight said in introduction.


    "Duke Alois of Belvoir," the young man replied. He stood with natural confidence; despite his rank and position as the most powerful nobleman in Ealond, his demeanour held no air of pretence. "We have done what we can for your soldiers, sir knight, but we cannot dy our march for long."


    Athelstan extended his arm, and Alois grasped it with his own. "You have my gratitude, my lord duke. I expected you to be half-way to Middanhal already."


    "We leave this afternoon. I dare not wait longer."


    "Understood."


    "A horse can be found for you, sir knight, I am sure."


    "Use it for someone with greater need. My legs work as they should."


    "Will you be ready to depart with us?"


    Athelstan shook his head. "No. The men I arrived with are weakened and require rest. And stragglers may reach us from the second day of fighting."


    "From what your other men have told me, such is doubtful."


    "Even so, my ce is here. If you have provisions to spare, I would be grateful."


    The duke nodded. "Of course." This time, he extended his arm first, letting Athelstan grasp it. "May we meet in Middanhal."


    "In Middanhal." The duke resumed his tasks, preparing for departure; the knight returned to his men.


    ~~~~


    For a day and a half, Athelstan waited along with his soldiers. Most of the time was spent resting after the forced march from Ingmond. Despite pangs of hunger torturing all of them, he allowed only half rations; Middanhal was more than a week away, and they could not spare time to forage once on the road.


    Atst, another contingent of wounded soldiers appeared. All those who had been able to flee the second day of the battle, few as they were. Athelstan greeted them, receiving only mute replies; none had the strength to speak unless needed.


    "Rest as you can," Athelstan called out. "Eat a little, but do not fill your stomachs. We are too exposed here, and we must leave soon." He nced around at the tattered remains of the camp; it could be espied from afar. If the ounders were on pursuit for survivors, they would surely follow the Kingsroad and soon discover this location.


    Two men approached the captain, carrying a third between them. "Athelstan," came the croaked voice of Sir Ewind. He lowered the body in his hands onto the ground.


    Turning towards the speaker, Athelstans eyes moved from the knight standing to the wounded soldier. Dread filled his face, and he fell to his knees besides Eumund.


    "My boy," he mumbled, tears already welling in his eyes. He caressed his nephews brow.


    "I told them to leave me," Eumund mumbled. "Waste of effort to drag me all this way."


    "Quiet, boy, quiet. They did right. I will get you to Middanhal."


    "I am dying, Uncle." He moved one hand to his stomach, covered in blood. "I suppose seeing you is my reward for holding on."


    "I will find a healer for you," Athelstan told him. "You are a son of Isarn. You are strong."


    "My fight is done, Uncle. I have no strength left." Eumunds breath became shallow. "Tell them."


    "What?"


    "I died a knight."


    "I shall have the skalds make songs," his captain promised.


    The corner of Eumunds mouth trembled in the beginnings of a smile. It faded again, and his expression grew nk. Athelstan ced both hands to frame his face, staring into blood-shot eyes that could not return his gaze.


    A soldier approached. With a hesitant voice, he spoke quietly. "Pardon me, captain. The men are restless. How long must we wait?"


    Athelstan took a deep breath, standing up. "No longer. We leave now. Are there any stretchers left?"


    "No, captain, theyre all in use."


    The knight nodded to himself. Untying his dirty cloak, Athelstanid it on the floor. With some difficulty, he moved Eumunds body onto the fabric. Reaching down to grab the ends of the cape, he began dragging the fallen knight with him. "We move out," he yelled to his men. Across the scattered remains of the camp, the ragged remnants of the Order army followed their captain, marching north.

 Chapter 212: We Were All

    Chapter 212: We Were All


    An exuberant mood had taken hold of the ounder camp, even if victory brought newbours. The dead had to be stripped of valuables and disposed of. The wounded needed treatment. Patrols on horseback had to be sent out to chase down survivors and search the area for hostile forces, ensuring the army was safe while carrying out these tasks.


    In his tent, Sikandar had gathered his lieutenants. They crowded around a crudely drawn map showing the location of the battle, including theke, hills, and thend between. Various pieces, exquisitely carved inparison, showed the cement of both Order and ounder troops. Together, themanders discussed the events of the battle, moving the pieces around, allowing them to learn and improve their tactics.


    A soldier entered quietly, standing to the side, as far away as possible from the shadow warrior in the back of the tent. At length, Sikandars attention fell upon him. "What is it?"


    He bowed his head. "Forgive me, Jenaab Sikandar. You asked for any captured knight to be brought to you."


    "I did, long ago. What is the dy?"


    Licking his lips, the soldier spoke again with an anxious look. "It seemed most of them died, or they would not reveal themselves. We did finally find one with golden spurs, as you told us. He is ready to be questioned."


    "Bring him."


    With a bow and a nervous look at the shadow warrior, the soldier hurried out of the tent.


    "I am not surprised," Rostam dered. "These knights fight like demons and prefer death to capture."


    "Had your hands full in the hills?" Arash smirked.


    "Someone had to do the hard part. If our Zhayedan fought with the same strength, this battle would have ended on the first day," Rostam imed.


    Sikandar cleared his throat, sending the briefest of nces at the shadow warrior. If the exchange had perturbed his mood, however, no such emotion could be read in his amber eyes.


    The soldier returned with the captive, whose hands and legs wore chains. He had been stripped of his surcoat and armour; his woollen tunic had many marks of dried blood.


    "I am Jenaab Sikandar," the captain spoke in Mearcspeech. "Who are you?"


    The Mearcian raised his head to let his defiant stare move from one ounder to the next. "I am Sir Fionn of Cairn Donn, knight of the Order of Adal."


    "I would ask for your aid," Sikandar exined. "As we are both men of rank, I see no need for matters to get unpleasant."


    The knight looked past the captains shoulder to stare at the shadow warriors face, wrapped in cloth. "Ask if you seek disappointment."


    "We already have patrols searching the area. Your knowledge would make little difference, but I will appreciate the gesture," Sikandar said. "I simply wish to know the location of your remaining forces in the area."


    "I do not give aid to my enemies, regardless of threat."


    "Perhaps you think we are unaware of the six thousand men from the rivends," the captain continued. "Rest assured, we shall be ready when they arrive."


    Unexpectedughter issued from Fionn, making the ounders exchange nces.


    "You find this amusing?" Sikandar asked.


    "Those men are long gone."


    "This simple attempt at deceit will not help them nor your present situation. We already have forces in the hills. Once they march down the road, we shall fall upon them from all sides."


    Fionn smiled to himself. "We warned them. We bought them time." He looked at Sikandar. "Your scouts will return and tell you the same. Your victory has been made hollow."


    "I find it hard to believe your army would stay in ce, fighting a hopeless battle, unless you nned to be reinforced," Sikandar considered. "If not by the men of the rivends, then by another force. Did you hope that the garrison of the city called Inghold would avail you?"


    Fionn shook his head with a smile born of disbelief.


    "Tell me, and I may yet be lenient. Where are your other troops? Where may we expect to be attacked? If you attempt falsehood, you will regret it." Behind the captain, the shadow warrior stepped forward with a menacing look in his eyes; a low growl came from beneath the mask and cloth around his face.


    Fionn shrugged, raising his hands; the chains rattled in response. "We were all."


    The tent opening flew aside, and the Servant of the me strode in.


    "You have not been summoned," Sikandar spoke harshly.


    "I go where the Godking requires me," the priest responded with the same acrimony. "All drnders of high rank are to be sacrificed for his glory, yet I find your men refuse to yield this prisoner."


    "Because those of high rank would be the only men possessing worthwhile knowledge," the captain retorted. "You may have your pick among themon soldiery."


    The priests face turned the same shade as his me-dyed robe. "As if that would be fitting tribute! The Godking has honoured us with this victory, for only through his power did we vanquish our enemy! He must be honoured in turn with the worthiest sacrifice." He already brandished a knife in his hand, aiming it at Fionn.


    "The fact we outnumbered them ten to one probably helped also," Arash mumbled.


    "You may sacrifice all the prisoners you wish," Sikandar dered, "except those that have value for our campaign."


    The priest clenched the handle of his de until his own nails drew blood from the inside of his hand. "And you believe that sess hinges rather on your feeble actions the Godkings favour?"


    "I believe it is my responsibility to do all that I can to serve the Godking," Sikandar replied coldly.


    The Servant of the me red at the shadow warrior, who did not react. He turned on his heel and left with the same angry stride that had brought him in.


    "Keep this prisoner alone and secure," Sikandar told the guard by Fionn. "Do not let any remove him, least of all the Servant."


    Bowing his head, the soldier pulled on Fionns chains and led him out.


    ~~~~


    As usual, the ckboots had gone further on their scouting trips than other ounders. While the Anausa patrolled the vicinity, only the ckboots had travelled beyond the hills to enter central Adalrik. They found pleasant fields in spring, growing tender stalks of grain. As for the people, some had fled hearing the rumours of battle, but most remained in their viges, hoping the tide of war would wash past them.


    Kamran moved nearly unseen through thendscape. He had an ordinary, grey cloak cast around him, making him appear like any Mearcian from afar. Should need arise, he could return the cape to his pack, leaving him d in his dark clothes that concealed his movements at night.


    Walking with caution through the fields, he froze in his tracks upon hearing the strange warbling of a bird umon in these parts. Looking around, Kamran made the same sound, repeating the call.


    As the sound was exchanged back and forth, the ckboot approached the other source. Moving through a thicket, he found not a bird, but Godfrey.


    "Javed!" he eximed. "What luck to find you here!"


    "Luck?" Godfrey coughed and cleared his throat repeatedly. "Ive been singing like a burnt crow for three days straight. My throat is killing me." He massaged the aforementioned part.


    "Have you met any of the others?"


    "No, youre the only one. Got any water?"


    Kamran shared the skin hanging by his waist. "There was a battle. It went ill for the drnders."


    "I know." Godfrey drank greedily from the skin. "It was to be expected. At least the remaining troops have been able to withdraw."


    "That exins why our search has been in vain. Jenaab Sikandar assumed another force was nearby."


    "Theres a barely a soldier between you and Middanhal, theyve all gone north. Best you tell the good captain that you have seen tracks leading west," Godfrey told the ckboot. "Let him think the forces from the rivends have withdrawn."


    "I shall," Kamran nodded. "What else?"


    "Every hour you can buy will be valuable. The drnders are assembling their troops, but it will take time. How fast may the Godking assault the great city?"


    "The first army will not be enough to take it. With a forced march, the second may arrive within a month," Kamran spected. "Javed, they im the Godking himself leads it."


    "He is more eager for victory than I thought," Godfrey spected, "to leave his stronghold already. I imagined he would only travel once the war had been won."


    "The powers he brings with him" The ckboot shuddered. "There is a fravashi in every part of our camp, it seems, and many more must be travelling with him."


    "The battle will be even harder than I first anticipated," the wanderer admitted. "But in his eagerness, he may show himself vulnerable. There are powers on our side as well, my friend."


    "I hope so." Kamran exhaled. "To imagine we may be the sons and daughters to see freedom."


    Godfrey reached to sp the other mans arm. "Till the morrowes."


    "Till the morrowes."

 Chapter 213: A Man of Trade

    Chapter 213: A Man of Trade


    Thousands of troops entered the city. Most of them marched under the banner of Belvoir, and the rest wore the surcoat of the Order. With them travelled news of battles in Ingmond. The arrival of the soldiers and these tidings sent a shock through Middanhal. After the Adalthing, themon popce had been exuberant at the two blessings of a civil war ended and a king ced on the throne. In the memory of most people, thetest news concerning the ounders had dealt with victories and the liberation of Tothmor and Polisals. To hear that the war had turned ill and foreign troops plundered through Ingmond seemed a nightmare be real. Seeing the defeated troops marching down the streets of Middanhal along with the wounded brought back only reinforced the dire tidings.


    ~~~~


    "Two thousand experienced soldiers dead or captured," William said darkly. He stood in the kings chambers, facing his sovereign. "In one battle."


    Brand scratched the beginnings of a beard, seated in a chair. "We are not in a position to take such losses unless we get more reinforcements. We may be able to defend Middanhal for now, but not once their entire army arrives. Not even with Belvoirs forces behind our walls."


    "Still no word from Heohlond or Vidrevi?"


    "I suspect King Folkmar looks upon our plight with satisfaction," Brand eximed bitterly. "As for King Brin, I have not heard word from Doran yet. It did not go well whenst the hignders marched to war for my sake," he admitted. "The ns may be reluctant, and I cannot guess the kings mind."


    "We are training every soldier we can," the lord marshal said. "We have the mercenaries once employed by Jarl Vale, and most of the levies from both the North and the South. Along with Belvoir, I believe we will have the troops to defend the city, even against all their forces."


    "We may have the numbers," Brand considered, "but do we have the food to feed such numbers? If this turns to a lengthy siege, that may prove another issue."


    "We have made all efforts to ensure provisions," William dered.


    "Let us hope that will suffice."


    "And should a siege develop, that will give us further time to train our recruits and the levies."


    "Sorely needed, given our losses in Ingmond. It seems your faith in Athelstan was misced."


    The lord marshal shifted his weight. "From what he has told me, I cannot imagine any to have done better. Especially not given his personal loss."


    "Is that your opinion or his?" Brand regarded his marshal with narrowed eyes.


    "I can only encourage the king to question his captain in person if he wishes to cast judgement upon the captains decisions," William carefully said.


    "No. I have neither need nor desire to see him." Brand stretched his neck. "You may leave."


    The lord marshal bowed his head.


    ~~~~


    Each of the four jarls maintained a residence in Middanhal; even if they could always expect to be quartered at the Citadel, their rank and prestige demanded a mansion in the city. It also allowed them privacy from the countless eyes and ears at court.


    The same held true for the jarl of Ingmond. He had remained in the city after the Adalthing, staying at his house. With the ounders swarming across his jarldom, he could not return hence. Instead, he brooded in the rooms of his mansion, where his family had once resided with him. His disdain for the king kept him from appearing at court; that same disdain kept other nobles from visiting him, fearing the monarchs displeasure by associating with the jarl.


    The alderman of the guilds did not seem to share this concern; his carriage entered thepound, and the steward announced his presence to the jarl, who agreed to receive him. Led by a servant, Edwin crossed through the great house to the upper floors, entering the private chambers reserved for the family.


    The servant motioned for Edwin to continue before making himself scarce. The alderman continued on his own until he found the jarl seated on a bed, staring at a portrait on the wall. He cleared his throat repeatedly.


    "I hear you," the nobleman snapped, though he did not deign to look at his visitor.


    "Forgive me, milord." Edwin licked his lips. "My arrangements areplete."


    "Fine."


    "I need not remind you that secrecy is paramount."


    "Yet you just did."


    "Forgive me," he repeated. "I simply meant to point out that my lord jarl should consider carefully who to involve."


    "You have brought mercenaries into this," Raymond sneered, whipping his head to finally look at the alderman. "My men are loyal to me, unlike yours, loyal only to gold."


    For a moment, the aldermans eyes shied away until a change came over him. His servile expression disappeared, and he met the jarls gaze. "I have no doubt that Isenhart of Isarn thought the same until his own family tied him up like a hog and delivered him to the king on the tter. Loyalties are divided, my lord jarl, as evidenced by your own margraves deserting you at the Adalthing."


    Raymond rose from the bed, and his face grew red. "How dare you speak to me in this manner!"


    "I dare, my lord jarl, because I am tired of pretence. I am a man of trade. I offer you a bargain, and you have epted it. Same as I have offered those mercenaries a bargain. I dare speak to you this way, my lord jarl, because as I give those mercenaries what they want, I will give you what you want. That is why I have risen from an orphan on the streets to alderman of this city. I know what people desire, and I sell it to them for the right price." Edwin looked with cold eyes on the jarl. His fingers fiddled with the ring on his other hand, touching the emerald. "Just as I know that you will hold to our trade because you desire what I offer more than anything. Yet I have worked far too long for some loose tongue to spill our secrets. You will choose your des carefully, my lord jarl, as I have done." Without waiting for a reply, the alderman turned around and left.


    ~~~~


    "You have been informed, I assume." Arndis had barely entered Brands chambers before she spoke.


    "Of a great many things, but I cannot possibly know if that includes what you refer to." The king stood in the other end, next to a small table with two chairs; a chess set stood atop. With one hand, Brand returned the pieces to their original position on the board.


    "The news of Sir Eumund."


    "Yes, I heard. Thankfully, most of the knights initially sent to Hthiod have survived, or I would have few at my disposal."


    She looked at him with a weary expression. "The loss of this particr knight has ramifications. We must change our ns."


    "We will find another suitable match for you, Sister." Brand moved a white jarl to one corner.


    "I can only think of one possibility."


    The king halted his movement to look at her. "You are looking beyond the House of Isarn, I trust."


    "We still need the alliance. Isarn has another scion, unwed, whose personal support will be invaluable in the war."


    Brand dropped the piece in his hand; it fell, disturbing several others. "Surely you jest."


    Arndis slowly shook her head. "Sir Athelstan is the perfect choice."


    "You are mad."


    "He would have been my first choice, except that left Eumund avable for someone else to gain influence in Isarn, and it seemed more likely that Athelstan would continue to remain unmarried. Of course, I am sure he will reconsider his solitary state when requested by the king."


    Laughter born of disbelief issued from Brand. "What is this? The man is a viin, yet I am beleaguered on all sides to show him honour after honour!"


    "He has made mistakes and repented, not to mention paid dearly. He betrayed his brother in order to make you king. He left his nephew to fight a hopeless battle to save your kingdom."


    Brand frowned. "How would you know such details?"


    "As soon as I heard the news of Eumunds demise, I went to offer my condolences to Athelstan."


    "Did he send you to speak on his behalf? Does heck the courage to face me in person?"


    "Brother," Arndis eximed. "His courage is unquestionable. At least have some respect for his loss. Eumund was dear to him, like a son."


    "I once thought he had the same affection for me," Brand retorted with bitterness as he rose to stand. "Seven long years I served as his squire in Alczar. Yet no sooner had we returned to Adalrik before he cast me aside. Forgive me if I have little sympathy to spare for his loss."


    "You were both imprisoned in this very castle. He tells me that you forgave him."


    "Because I expected us both to be executed. I was hardly in the right state of mind," Brand argued, as he began to pace back and forth.


    In contrast, Arndis stood with calm poise. "Athelstan is your bestmander. He represents a house and jarldom we must have close ties with. And he is someone worthy of your respect. I will marry him, Brother, for your sake and your kingdom."


    "How noble," the king replied with disdain. "You do not seem particrly burdened."


    "It could have been worse," Arndis admitted. "Yet in the end, this is the reasonable choice. My own wishes are not part of the calction."


    "Convenient, given that you also presume to calcte my future. Using the same arithmetic."


    She stared at him without sympathy. "Yes. The gods have blessed us both with gifts, or we would not havee this far. Your gift is on the field, mine is in court. That is why you should heed my advice, Brand."


    "I am to trust in your benevolence?"


    "You are to trust the blood and bond between us. I tell you the truth as the only one, Brother, because I am tied to you unlike any other. My fortune rises and falls with yours,pletely in step. I have no hidden ambitions when I advise you because my goals are yours."


    Brand returned to his chess set, rearranging the scattered pieces. "I would have solitude." Staring at his back, his sisterplied with themand.


    ~~~~


    Traffic through Saltgate remained high. Soldiers and provisions marched in; citizens went the other way while the roads remained open. Due to the extraordinary circumstances, the toll for entering the city had been waived, and Godfrey walked straight into the city.


    He quickly took a sharp turn, entering Lowtown. Nestled between the southern walls and the river, the many neighbourhoods gave home to the poorest of Middanhal. Houses in various states of disrepairy closely together, each providing a roof to several families.


    Besides that, Lowtown held numerous taverns and temples, tending to the physical and spiritual needs of the citizens. With staggered steps, Godfrey reached a structure of the former kind. Little more than four walls around an altar, the shrine still had a ckrobe in attendance. Godfrey approached the priest, clearing his throat.


    Once the ckrobe noticed him, Godfrey took another step closer. "Get a message to the king. Tell him he has less than a month. Im too worn to cross the city."


    "I shall." The priest nodded and disappeared into the throng of people on the street.


    As for Godfrey, his business done in the temple, he continued a little further into Lowtown until he reached a tavern. News of war had not suppressed mens thirst, on the contrary; the ce seemed packed. The wanderer pushed his way through to reach the innkeeper, pping three coppers onto the desk.


    "The price is six," came the surly reply.


    "You try this every time. I have walked for a week straight. Im not in the mood, Harold."


    Grumbling, the innkeeper filled a tankard and mmed it on the desk, swiping the coins into his pocket.


    Godfrey emptied the mug in one drag. "Ill be in your stable, sleeping," he dered; before any protests could be made, he had already made his exit, lost in the crowd.

 Chapter 214: The Turn of the Millstone

    Chapter 214: The Turn of the Millstone


    A table had been prepared with various kinds of fruit, bread, and small cakes in the chambers of the kings sister, specifically the parlour. Arndis already sat, apanied by Eleanor, her handmaiden. As the door opened to reveal Jana, they both rose.


    "Please, do not hesitate. Join us," Arndis told her. "I am pleased you would ept my invitation."


    "I am only happy to share yourpany," thedy of Alczar imed. She entered and took the third chair, once Arndis had taken her own seat.


    "I have been dying to hear more about the South Cities," Eleanor dered, sitting down as thest. "I am told that veils are worn by the women. Though you I see you do not."


    "It is an old custom that some still follow. In these northernnds, I see no need for it," Jana replied politely.


    "If I had your hair, I would not cover it either," Eleanor admitted.


    "You have a skilled handmaiden," Arndis added, taking a cluster of grapes to her te.


    "I have no maiden as such, only hands," came the jest from Jana. She carefully touched the edges of her intricate hair. "All done by myself, I fear."


    "That is outrageous," Arndis dered, though her voice remained calm in spite of her words. "I will find you a suitable courtier, fitting for your rank. I cannot believe the king would overlook this."


    "He has other matters on his mind than courtiers," Jana considered.


    "You know him well," Arndis continued. "How does he seem to you?"


    "I would not presume to know the king better than his own sister."


    "I am sure you can provide insight."


    "The king is burdened by the burdens of a king," Jana simply said. "Matters that are beyond me."


    "I worry for him, as any sister would," Arndis imed, looking away while her fingers tore a grape into pieces. "Enough of that. Eleanor, who would make a suitable handmaiden for a princess of Alczar?"


    ~~~~


    The door to the library opened, admitting one Dwarf. He found three youths inside, reading or writing.


    "Jorund!" Kate eximed. "When did you return?"


    "My patrol came in yesterday,te," the Red Hawk exined. "No sign of ounders yet." He looked towards Inghard. "I didn''t think you were here, given theck of thanes outside."


    "Not a prince anymore," the nobleman replied.


    "Right, I forgot. These past months have been mad," Jorund dered. "One day Im poised to fight the Order and this Dragonheart, as they call him. Next thing I know, hes king and Im doing patrols with Order soldiers." He exhaled, letting himself drop down on a bench.


    "Not to mention, we sat and feared Isarns army attacking us to the north. Now, we got to worry about ounders attacking us to the south!" Kate wrung her hands together.


    "Ive had plenty to write in the annals, thats for sure." Egil waved his quill about.


    "What is the situation?" asked Inghard. "With the ounders."


    "Well, theyre not at the doors yet," Jorund told them. "And I wouldnt worry. The city is brimming with troops. Theyre not getting past the walls."


    "Another reason I am satisfied to no longer be prince," Inghard said. "I would rather read than have to fight this war."


    "Must be nice," the Dwarf growled. The former prince only smiled and picked up his book again.


    ~~~~


    "The lord of Belvoir awaits, my king."


    "Let him enter."


    With confident steps, Alois of Belvoir walked into the kings chamber, and Brand rose to greet him. Close in height and age, their simrities extended beyond the physical; both had gained their titles in tumultuous circumstances, and both had been thrust into responsibility at a young age.


    "My lord duke, you are wee to Middanhal." Brand bowed his head as deep as royal dignity allowed. "As is your army. I am grateful that you would heed the call to war."


    In turn, the duke gave a proper bow. "It is a pleasure to meet a true king, Your Majesty. Should the ounders overrun southern Adalrik, they may threaten eastern Ealond. It is only right that all Mearcians band together."


    "Words of wisdom." Brand gestured for the duke to be seated; another motion saw a servant step forward to pour a goblet of wine. "You may recognise the taste. Ites from your ownnds."


    "A taste of home." Alois took a sip. "Speaking of Belvoir. I hope Your Majesty understands that I have left thosends near empty to protect Middanhal instead. While I see the need for our armies to unite, I hope our strategy will not be entirely defensive."


    Brand shook his head. "That would be ourst resort. I am still mustering armies from across Adalmearc. Once our full strength is marshalled, I intend to drive the ounders back."


    "That is a relief to hear." The duke took another cautious sip of his wine. "Especially given that while they threaten us to the east, the southrons attack us in the west. Your Majesty is aware, I take it, of Alczars armies."


    "Quite," Brand replied. "Though I wager your intelligence may be newer than mine. What is thetest you have heard?"


    "They have begun their siege of Portesur. I suspect once they take it, they will march reinforcements directly north across the Langstan, rather than be forced to sail around the Teeth," Alois considered. "Then, with all their ships at their disposal, their armies gathered, and Portesur as their harbour, they can threaten all of the Eylonde Sea, including Herbergja."


    "What of King Rainier?"


    Disdain flittered across the dukes face. "The king has lost the support of his vassals. He is unable to mobilise soldiers in sufficient numbers. Last I heard, he stays in Fontaine, leaving the defence of the realm to the Order."


    "A pity the gods did not see fit to ce a better man on the throne in such times."


    "Fortunately, the king of Ealond is not the highest authority." The duke focused his eyes on Brand. "May we rely upon Your Majesty to see ournds freed from Alczar? I know many of my men are anxious at the thought of fighting in Adalrik when there is also war in Ealond."


    "Of course." Brand nodded. "That is the Alliance of Adalmearc. An attack upon one is an attack upon all. As high king, it is my solemn duty to defend all the Seven Realms against all enemies."


    The duke bowed his head in response. "I shall pass Your Majestys words on to my men."


    ~~~~


    The orchard trees at the Citadel saw a variety of people each day. Gardeners tended to them, and courtiers enjoyed the sight and scent they provided. The kings sister was among the daily visitors, usually apanied by a group of noblewomen, vying for her attention. Today proved to be an exception, as she had a knight for her onlypanion.


    "Thank you for attending me," Arndis said with a smile that invited lingering looks from others in the vicinity.


    "How could I refuse?" came Athelstan''s reply. "There are few people at this court whose presence could be more pleasant." They walked at a slow pace, moving between sun and shade as the trees had begun their early bloom.


    "Even so, you must be upied at all waking hours."


    "While I am tempted to let you think so, in truth, that is only the case on campaign. Captain Theobald is organising the citys defence," he exined. "I have far too much time on my hands. I should be thanking you."


    "I have done nothing worthy of gratitude, as I recall."


    "When hands are idle, the mind turns endlessly like a millstone," Athelstan said. "Yourpany is a wee reprieve from the repetition of thoughts and memories less cherished."


    She took his arm as they walked. "Let me again express my deepest sympathies for your loss."


    He covered her hand with his. "I appreciate the thought." He cleared his throat. "I have written to Isenwald and the jarlinna, telling them the news. I am ashamed to admit, a small part of me felt relieved that I would not have to do so in person."


    "Under the circumstances, none may me you."


    A joyless smile appeared on the knights face, swiftly fading. "I must tell my brother. He does not know yet." Athelstan swallowed. "I cannot defend simply writing a missive when we are in the same ce."


    "Given his temper, I would not me you for avoiding that conversation either."


    "He will be a father who has lost his son. If anger directed at me will help him in his grief, I shall not deny him that either."


    "Would you wish for me to apany you? I understand that the moment itself would be private between two brothers, but afterwards, you might find a friendly face to be needed."


    "You are kind to offer. The truth is, I am not sure when it will even be possible to see Isenhart. Only your brother may grant permission for any to visit my brother, and he has yet to grant me an audience."


    "I can help with that," Arndis promised, squeezing his arm.


    ~~~~


    Brand sat in therge chamber serving as his parlour; thest audience of the day had been given, and he kept nopany besides a goblet and a pitcher of wine. From time to time, he raised the cup to let a few drops past his lips.


    "Am I disturbing your thoughts? Or perhaps you are studying the tapestry," Jana considered.


    Brand blinked, looking from his visitor to the wall opposite him, depicting the king Sighard hunting a boar. "I think I have gleaned all that may be learned. Which of my treacherous thanes told you toe this time?"


    "Does the king assume I would only visit when requested?"


    He gave half a smile. "The king does not know what to think these days."


    Jana sat down next to him. "Rest assured, Ie of my own volition with no purpose other than yourpany."


    "That would certainly set you apart."


    "I can imagine. What troubles you on this particr eve?"


    Brand scratched his stubbles. "Besides the war? My sister wishes to marry a man I despise."


    "Who?"


    "Athelstan. You remember him from Alczar?"


    "To some extent. He always seemed kind in his dealings with both you and me."


    "He can be when he wishes, I suppose. The moment he no longer had need of me  when he was among his own kin again  he threw me away."


    "I imagine it is moreplicated than that."


    The king emptied his cup rather than reply.


    "I havee to know a little of your sister, Brand."


    "And?"


    "She reminds me of my fathers wives. All of them adept at intrigue, each doing so on behalf of a son. Your sister gathers both knowledge and gold, makes alliances and learns the weaknesses of others at court. The only difference is, she does this to protect herself rather than any progeny."


    "You do not paint a ttering picture."


    "I say this without malice," Jana insisted. "She grew up alone, Brand, exposed. She does all this to keep herself safe, which none could me her for. I think in her heart, she is always afraid to suddenly lose everything and once more be at the mercy of others. Because even now, her position still depends on you. Thus, if you are strengthened, she is. Regardless of your misgivings about Athelstan, your sister is right to pursue this alliance."


    Brand exhaled. "Perhaps she should be king rather than me. She seems more adept at these games."


    Jana shook her head. "You have need of her to counsel you, but your people have need of you to lead them. You have faced death so many times, Brand, you have no fears left. And a fearless king is needed in times such as these."


    "If my sisters counsel prevailed concerning you, do you know what your fate would be?"


    "I can imagine." She extended her hand to brush against his stubbles. "What is this? Has your servants only dull des?"


    "Rather, the de is less steady than I prefer so close to my throat," Brand replied dryly. "Geberic is getting old. That includes his hand. I could summon someone else, but another matter always awaits my attention, and I forget soon after."


    She studied his face with a critical demeanour. "Let it be. Leave the smooth face to your knights."


    He bowed his head. "I shall heed your counsel, Lady Jana."

 Chapter 215: A King Has no Friends

    Chapter 215: A King Has no Friends


    As another day dawned, the king took breakfast in his chambers as usual. Ever since the Adalthing, he had rarely left his quarters except to appear at the noon and evening meals, allowing his court to see their ruler. And even at this early hour, he took visitors.


    "Lord Doran is ready, my king."


    "Send him in."


    The hignder entered swiftly, wearing a broad smile. "My lord king," he said in greeting.


    "Wee back," Brand replied in between chewing on cold fowl. "I trust by your expression that news is good?"


    "They are." The young man nodded. "I would have shared themst night, but the hour of my arrival waste."


    "It matters little. Tell me what transpired in Heohlond. Did King Brin resist mymand?"


    "He did not, my lord king. He dragged his feet at first, refusing to see me for a few days. He did not dare to dy longer than that, however."


    "What happened once you met?"


    "He acknowledged you as ard r and agreed to gather the ns for the oireacht. That is when the trouble began."


    Brand frowned, drinking from a cup of ale. "How so? What happened at the gathering?"


    "Some of the ns have bitter feelings against Adalrik since the rebellion. Others remembered thest time that my lord king bid the hignders march to war, yet without asking the n leaders."


    Brand scratched his chin, looking displeased. "I assume that was not the end of it? You imed good news."


    "Aye. It took some effort on the kings part. He is keen to preserve good rtions with Adalrik. In the end, all the ns relented, though I suspect some will send more than others."


    "But they wille?"


    "Ten thousand strong, I was told." Doran smiled.


    "How soon?"


    Dorans smile faltered. "It will take time. They must gather from across the highnds, from ces with poor roads. It could be a month or longer."


    The king exhaled. "Then we must defend for a month."


    ~~~~


    In the southern courtyard, a carriage stood bearing the arms of Vale. The door had already been opened; the jarl and his daughter could be seen next to it.


    "I do not like this," Valerian mumbled.


    "It was your idea to send us away," Valerie pointed out.


    "Why can you not go to Theodstan like Alexandra?" the jarl asked.


    "Father, I will be just as safe in Isarn. Besides," she added with a touch of red in her cheeks, "I have not seen much of Isenwald. He was most kind to extend his protection and hospitality with the enemy on our doorstep."


    "Not too long ago, he was the enemy," Valerian grumbled. "Peace is one thing, but the young man has some nerve requesting your presence."


    "Only if that request were to be poorly received," his daughter retorted. "I am only too happy to see his jarldom."


    "At least the boy has a proper title," sighed the lord of Vale. "Fine. Off with you. I have plenty of work ahead of me."


    She hugged her father quickly. "Enjoy your books," she told him, epting his hand to enter the carriage. A servant closed the door, and the driver set the horses into motion. The jarl watched as thest of his family left Middanhal. Elsewhere in the yard, other noblemen bid their wives, children, aged parents, and other rtives farewell in the same manner.


    Outside the Citadel,moners began the same journey whether by cart, horseback, or foot. They sought Isarn or Theodstan as well or beyond to Vidrevi or Heohlond, wherever safe refuge or amodating kinsfolk might be found. At the prospect of yet another war, another siege, the hardships of the road seemed preferable to the anxiousforts of the city. Little by little, the streets grew quiet.


    ~~~~


    A map of Middanhaly across the table in the kings outer chamber. Next to it stood the captain of the city guard, Sir Theobald, holding a list from the quartermaster. "When we have finished conscripting the North, we should have twenty thousand soldiers," he said. "We will be able to garrison the city fully."


    "But most of our forces are levies, and many of the Order soldiers are newly recruited. In fact, the Red Hawks may be the most experienced fighting force at our disposal," Brand pointed out, standing on the opposite side of the table.


    An expression ran across the captains face at the mention of the mercenarypany. "A month will help whip our recruits into shape, and same for the levies. But the king is correct," Theobald conceded. "We must position knights along with our few experienced Order soldiers on every stretch between towers," he suggested. "Meanwhile, the Hawks should defend the gate in full numbers."


    "We must spread out the levies as much as possible," Brand considered. "Our enemy has only trained, hardened troops. If they gain a foothold in the wrong ce, they will decimate our conscripts."


    "I will do what I can, but inevitably, some parts of the walls will be more lightly defended."


    "What are our possibilities to reinforce?"


    The captain pointed at different ces in Lowtown on the map. "Most of our troops will be quartered in these locations. They will be able to reach the majority of the defences in half an hour. gs atop the towers will alert them to where the fighting is."


    "Good," Brand muttered. "Where are the weak points?"


    "The edges, where the walls meet the mountains," Theobald exined. "They will have the fewest troops, but most of them will be Order soldiers. And longbowmen on the adjacent towers should be able to provide support."


    "Anywhere else?"


    "Here and here." The captains finger prodded the map twice. "Those are furthest from reinforcements, and I have no experienced troops left. Not if we are to defend the outer towers and the gatehouse with strong numbers."


    "Have Sir Richard take charge of one ce and Sir Fionn the other."


    The captain cleared his throat. "My king, Sir Fionn was at the battle in Ingmond."


    "Right." Brand closed his eyes momentarily, exhaling deeply. "Choose the knights that seem best to you. Two for each ce that they might relieve each other."


    "Very well, my king."


    "If they should breach our defences, what is our situation?"


    "Not good," Theobald admitted. "Nearly all our troops are in Lowtown to be able to reinforce. If they get through the walls, they can advance to the Arnsbridge and hold it with rtive ease. We in the Citadel will be cut off from most of our troops."


    "And the fighting will continue in Lowtown itself, chaotic and scattered. Allowing their greater numbers to wear our forces down," Brand continued.


    "Exactly, my king. The city will be lost."


    "Unless unless we copse the Arnsbridge."


    The captain frowned. "Is that even possible? It would take days for men with pickaxes to cut through the stone, and the bridge is set too low for any ram to hit."


    "That is a question for the engineers. Once they have finished preparing their war engines, have them figure out how to destroy the bridge." With a worn look, Brand sat down.


    "Yes, my king. With your leave, I will return to my preparations." The captain began rolling up the map.


    "You have my leave."


    The captain bowed and left swiftly.


    ~~~~


    In the north-western quarter of Middanhaly arge building, simr in size and shape to a guildhall. It served as an assembly for the Dwarves of the city and the personal residence of the dvalinn, leader of their kindred in Adalrik. Inside his private study, he sat with a guest.


    "Lord Ivaldi, the time hase!" Godfrey impressed upon him.


    The dvalinn sat in a great chair, ced by a fireside. His visitor stood on the other side of the glowing embers, kept dormant for now. "Simple words, yet they demandplicated actions."


    "Every other dvalinn would agree with me," Godfrey imed.


    "Of course they would. They would share in the spoils with none of the risk. I am the dvalinn who must ask his people to sacrifice themselves. To defend and die for these sons of Men." The Dwarf scraped his tongue against his teeth. "And when promises prove to be empty as before? When my people show their dead to me, and I must tell them it was for nothing?"


    "Middanhal is your home as well. Fighting to defend it could never be the wrong choice."


    Ivaldi scoffed. "Home. Our guilds are controlled by outsiders, and we may not own the houses we call home. During the day, webour in the forges of the Citadel, yet we are sent away at nightfall."


    "Dvarheim was your home, and it was lost," Godfrey argued. "This is your chance to retake it. For the first time in eleven hundred years, the Godking has left his mountain!"


    Ivaldi picked up a rune-stave. As his fingers ran across the carvings, he looked at Godfrey. "Aye, the other Dwarf-lords agree with you. They all wish for me to risk my people for the sake of a dream."


    "If the Mearcians march on Dvarheim, the other Dwarf-houses will join."


    "If," the dvalinn repeated. "Eleven hundred years ago, the Godking was wounded. His armies in disarray. Yet the forest lords abandoned us, and the sons of Mencked the courage to finish the fight. Why should I believe this will be different? With the South Cities threatening Adalmearc, I reckon this high king will look to his ownnds first."


    "The king understands the necessity to end the threat from the Godking once and for all," the wanderer imed. "Not to mention, you have blood under the mountain awaiting you."


    "Are they blood? More than a thousand years of separation," Ivaldi considered.


    "What if your warriors would determine the difference between victory and defeat? Because I promise you, Lord Ivaldi, if the Godking takes this city, you will share the fate of your estranged kin. You will know thraldom with no hope of aid, for none will be left to render it."


    The Dwarf-lord stared into the embers of the firece. "I will give it due consideration."


    Clenching his jaw, Godfrey remained silent and walked away.


    ~~~~


    The king sat, poring over parchments with long rows of numbers. Made by the quartermaster of the Order, they listed avable provisions in the Citadel and elsewhere in the city, sometimes based on assumptions or estimates. Other rows showed calctions, exining how long the city mightst in a siege, taking into ount further provisions avable from northern Adalrik. Besides that, pieces of parchment detailed the weapon stores and other supplies needed. Moving from one to another, Brand let his eyes slowly move through the numbers and calctions.


    "May I have a moment, dear brother?"


    Brand looked up to find Arndis standing in his outer chamber. "I should have read this in my study," he mumbled. "I have already been aggrieved once today," he added, grabbing a letter to wave it around. "I would hope you have note to add another grievance."


    Looking at the letter, Arndis frowned. "What is it?"


    "A reply from Prince Saif,mander of Alczar''s armies. I thought the knowledge of a new king in Middanhal would give him pause. Perhaps consider negotiating peace rather than risk facing our full might, but he must feel secure given the ounders are at our gates."


    "He is not inclined to negotiate, I take it."


    Brand shook his head. "He has the gall to im their invasion is a response to attacks made by reeves acting on our behalf. Setting fires to their city, abducting a daughter of the Kabir, and so on. As if this war is anything but an attempt at brute conquest, yet he wouldy the guilt at my feet." He tossed the letter back on his desk.


    A pensive expression came over Arndis. "Aggravating indeed," she muttered.


    "But you came here with a purpose in mind. What is it?"


    "I have note on my own behalf," she rified. "I would ask that you listen to a request."


    "From whom?"


    "Athelstan."


    Brand sighed. "Really? You will force this upon me?"


    "Given his service to you recently, it would be kind of you to listen."


    Brand rubbed his eyes before piling his parchments together. "Fine. Tell him to be brief."


    "Of course." Arndis left on swift steps.


    A few momentster, Athelstan appeared, giving a bow. "My king."


    "I am told you have a request."


    "Yes. It concerns Eumund."


    Brands features softened slightly. "What of him?"


    "Isenhart does not know. I could send him a message, of course, but it feels cowardly. He should be told, face to face, what happened to his son."


    The king nodded to himself. "You need permission to visit. I see."


    "By your grace, my king."


    Brand stood up and walked over to a small writing desk. Grabbing a quill, he wrote a few lines on parchment. Melting some red wax to drip onto the bottom, he stamped his si ring onto it. "Here. This will grant you passage."


    He extended the missive towards Athelstan, who meanwhile had been studying the chessboard on a small table next to the desk. "I am grateful," the knight dered, receiving the parchment while bowing his head. He cleared his throat, nodding towards the board. "Who are you ying?"


    "None. I am simply practising a new opening."


    Athelstan hesitated as he spoke again. "Would my king wish to try against an opponent?" He tapped the edge of the missive against one of the jarl pieces.


    Brand let out his breath, staring at the knight. "Fine. Set it up."

 Chapter 216: Let Them Come

    Chapter 216: Let Them Come


    Weeks after the battle in Ingmond, patrols from Middanhal caught sight of the ounder vanguard. They moved swiftly up the Kingsroad, plundering the area for food on their march. Their speed suggested good knowledge of thend, whether through maps or spies set in advance.


    Rather than risk a skirmish, the Order patrols kept their distance. Experienced troops were few in Middanhalpared to the need, and the lord marshal had given strict orders to avoid fighting. Instead, the soldiers of the Star simply shadowed their red-robed counterparts, retreating before them back to the city, bearing the news. The enemy had arrived.


    ~~~~


    The tidings had been expected, yet they still sent waves of panic through the city. Until then, some had held out hope that the rumours were exaggerated, or perhaps the ounders would turn another way. To others, it had seemed an intangible threat, vague inparison to the relief that the civil war had ended without further bloodshed. Now, such thoughts proved to be folly.


    To the leaders, little had changed. They continued training soldiers, both levies from the fiefdoms of Adalrik and new conscripts to the Order. All the food that could be salvaged from southern Adalrik had already been brought inside the walls. On the towers, engineers from Fontaineboured to build stone throwers and other defences.


    Buildings were cleared throughout Lowtown, either to create passageways for reinforcements to reach the walls from their lodgings, or to lessen the risk of fires being set by ming projectiles. Weapon stores were distributed throughout the fortifications, above allrge quantities of arrows in every tower; barely a bird had any feathers left in the city with every fletcher working all waking hours.


    These and many other preparations continued, day after day and sometimes into the night; time was running out.


    ~~~~


    The king walked along the southern fortifications with Sir Richard of Alwood by his side; besides strong armour made of Nordsteel, ten kingthanes provided protection. Other than that, only the asional sentinel could be found, keeping sharp eyes towards the south.


    "This will be your tower," Brand exined. He pointed at the nearest turret. "It may serve as yourmand post. You will be furthest from reinforcement, so your garrison will berger than the other towers."


    "Excellent." Richards voice and smile gave no impression that the responsibility weighed on him.


    "You must expect hard fighting. The ounders have spies, and they may well be aware that this stretch of wall is more vulnerable."


    "Let theme!"


    "They have certainly been aware of our other ns," Brand muttered darkly. He stopped to stand between crions, cing his hands on the stonework as he gazed south. "They knew to advance swiftly before we were ready. Had I been king one month earlier, I could have led our armies to Ingmond and held the Sureste. Thirty days, and we would not be under threat of siege."


    "You should have been king years ago," Richard argued. "I told those bastards as much, but they would not listen. Too busy squabbling among themselves."


    Brand gave a vague smile. "You were always fearless, Sir Richard, whether on the battlefield or in marbled halls."


    "Truth be told, I am too simple-minded to be afraid."


    His words elicitedughter from the king. "You have done for more this kingdom than most lords I know, however cunning they might be."


    "Not a hard measure to reach."


    Brand turned to look at the knight. "You gave me my firstmand. I will never forget that."


    "And now my king returns the favour." Richard grinned. "Do not worry, sire. We will be ready for those scum when they get here."


    "Tell the men. They will need your courage in theing days."


    ~~~~


    Three dayster, sentinels atop the towers could spot the ounders in the distance. They did not approach, but began making their own preparations. All trees had been felled in the vicinity, and they brought their own timber from afar to build small watch posts as the first priority. Immediately manning them to keep a sharp eye on the gate of Middanhal, the remaining ounders set aside spears to wield shovels, digging ditches. In this manner, soon several thousand of the Anausa upied themselves.


    As the remainder of their first army arrived, they set up camp southwest of the city, near the Mihtea. Given their numbers, especially with the second army expected, only a river like that could supply enough freshwater for them all. More timber was brought to build palisades, and more trenches were dug, turning their camp into a primitive fortress. As for their engineers, they began constructing siege engines.


    ~~~~


    Atop the gatehouse, the lord marshal stood with Athelstan. They gazed into the distance, trying to discern what they might concerning the ounders. "Too soon for a sortie," Athelstan considered. "Nothing of value to destroy."


    "At least we have the numbers for it when the timees. What siege machinery do you expect them to use?" asked William.


    "I suspectdders," the other knight replied. "If they breach the gate with a ram, we can defend it with ease given our strong garrison. They would have to breach the walls in several locations, which would take weeks. Their best way to take this city is to gain a foothold on the walls and flood their soldiers in."


    William nced at the catapult positioned next to them, cing a hand on the wooden frame. "I suppose this will be less useful against stormdders aspared to rams, but better to have and not need."


    Meanwhile, Athelstan had walked to the edge of the parapet. He narrowed his eyes, using one hand to shield them from the sun. "Is there something strange about how they are digging?"


    The lord marshal joined him, likewise straining his sight. "They are not making trenches anymore, at least not for defensive purposes. They are moving closer towards the city."


    Athelstans eyes opened wide. "They are making the ground even."


    "What for?"


    The older knight gestured towards the area beyond the walls. "Thend has been made rough to make it harder for siege machinery on wheels. You can get rams through, perhaps, but not siege towers. Unless you are willing to spend countless hours, risking your mens lives, to make it even."


    "But we are uphill," William argued. "Moving siege towers to the walls seems a near preposterous task. They would need draught animals, which causes a new host of difficulties for them."


    "It does," Athelstan conceded, "but I can see no other exnation." He took a deep breath. "It will not bedders. It will be towers." He nced over his shoulder at the catapult. "We are going to need those stone throwers after all."

 Chapter 217: Seeking the Morrow

    Chapter 217: Seeking the Morrow


    Regardless of Athelstans predictions, no siege towers rose against the horizon in the early days of the siege. First, the ounderspleted their defensive structures, protecting themselves against sorties and hiding theirbours from eyes on the city walls. It took three days before the ounders revealed their work, pushing and rolling past their palisades. Stone throwers and wicker screens, the former to attack and thetter to protect.


    Appearing inrge numbers with cavalry to protect their nks, the ounders moved out from their wooden defences to attack those of stone. In response, the Order soldiers raised the rm, waving the banners atop their towers. While the red-robed Anausa approached, levies from the fiefdoms of Adalrik joined the men of the Star on the double walls of Middanhal to fill the gaps in the ranks.


    The first engagement of the siege began. Employing the same methods as when they took Tothmor, the catapultsunched their first volleys. Some used simple rocks as munitions, hoping to hit defenders on the walls with enough force to cause injuries. Others used the severed heads from the fallen in the battle of Ingmond, where the ounders had painstakingly decapitated the corpses and carried the grisly trophies with them.


    The Order soldiers raised theirrge infantry shields, shielding them from the rain of missiles. The hardened veterans showed little emotion, even when heads sometimes still wearing helmets rolled around their feet. The new conscripts and levies reacted with greater force, vomiting or crying out; some even abandoned their post, though they were swiftly beaten for this and sent back. The gruesome munition was meant to weaken morale,ying the groundwork forter assaults; the leaders of the Order used both encouragement and punishment to prevent this. Meanwhile, their own stone throwers responded, seeking to destroy the enemys siege engines on the ground.


    As their next weapon, ounders advanced behind wicker screens, protecting them against the longbowmen on the towers. With oil and alchemy, their own archers set fire to their arrows and shot them across the walls.


    "Fire arrows!" came the warning call. They struck like ming serpents with varying effect. Somended harmlessly on the paved street; others hit rooftops, starting a ze.


    "We need water!" Pulling the nearest levies from the walls, the knights in charge established human chains. Barrels and buckets of water were transported from prepared locations, dousing the mes.


    While some of the defenders attended to this threat, the remainder stayed at their posts, manning the double walls. They stood, unflinching, gazing at the morass of wicker screens, archers, catapults, and countless soldiers in red beyond.


    The ounders revealed their final ploy for the day. Suddenly, scores of them ran forward with a shield in one hand, the other empty. Within easy range of the defending archers, they protected themselves as best they could while digging out little y pots from a pouch. With a powerful throw, they flung them at the walls.


    Some of the throws failed, and the pots struck below the parapet to no effect. But others reached their destination, hurled over the walls to crack open at the feet of the soldiers. Alchemical fire burst out, causing panicked outbursts and frantic attempts to quell the mes. Swiftly, the alchemy throwers retreated even as arrows from the turrets harried them, leaving chaos on the walls in their wake.


    It could have been an opportune moment to attack, but the ounders had brought no machinery for scaling the walls; instead, they continued their pelting the defenders until their munition, whether of one nature or another, ran out. Only then did they retreat, dragging their catapults and screens with them.


    Meanwhile, themanders of the Order assessed their losses and damage inflicted. Neither seemed heavy, but this had only been the first day of the siege; many more were toe.


    ~~~~


    The first day of assault might have ended, but the ounders still had work to do. Siege machinery had to be hauled back to be kept in defensive locations under heavy watch. The dead were retrieved, stripped of their weapons and equipment. The injured received treatment. Finally, the earthworks and palisades were strengthened where possible in anticipation of retaliation.


    Once these tasks had beenpleted, night had fallen. Small specks of light could be seen across the siege camp otherwise engulfed in darkness. Thergest stood in the middle, where the Servant of the me made sacrifices to the Godking; the remainder were cooking fires, providing the cold soldiers with heat, tea, and warm meals.


    "Ive seen some strange things in the drynds," one soldier remarked, swinging his mug around, "but imagine being so cowardly, you need two walls to hide behind!" Scatteredughter could be heard.


    "Its clever though," another argued, rubbing his hands together and holding them close to the fire. "We spend all our efforts getting onto the first wall, and theyll be standing on the one behind, throwing rocks and shooting arrows at us. I dont envy the first soldiers to go up."


    "Thats why we have the fire pots," came a third voice. "Did you see them dance some merry steps once we started hurling them up?" Moreughter ensued.


    "When the Godking arrives, it doesnt matter how many walls they got, theyll all crumble!"


    "Id like to see the drnders fight just one fravashi!"


    "You boys dont know your stories." An aged voice cut through the noise. Its owner sat on a crate with his robe and cloak huddled around him; scars adorned his face, which showed no mirth. "Fighting on those walls will be nothing like you imagine. You got no idea whats waiting."


    "Oh, spare us, old man."


    "What stories?"


    "Just the tales of old women to frighten children."


    "Stories of dreadful warriors whose eyes have only one colour," continued the veteran. "Faster with a sword than any man, and near impossible to kill."


    "Hah, just wait until the fravashi arrive! Theyll take care of the drnders and their monsters."


    At the mention of the shadow warriors, some soldiers disyed excitement, others dread.


    "Yeah, nothing can kill a fravashi!"


    "Except a de of Ruin," argued the old soldier. "Wrath, rage, storm, and song."


    "They dont exist, and neither do your monsters with strange eyes!"


    "We took the city they call Tothmor after weeks of siege. Not one fravashi, but two in the garrison. Yet the drnders took it back in a day, and no fravashi returned to camp." The veteran took out some leaves from a pouch and began chewing them.


    His words and demeanour had a subduing effect on the gathering. The soldiers returned to their tea and food; soon after, they sought sleep.


    ~~~~


    The quartermaster of the Order sat surrounded by clerks, writing desks, and long shelves filled with ledgers. Constantly, missives arrived with information to be added to lists, keeping track of all things rted to warfare. Soldiers, weapons, equipment, provisions, and everything else needed to wage war. The jarl of Vale looked around with approval at the many quills, busy writing down.


    "I would speak with you," Valerian said, approaching the quartermaster.


    The old man raised his head, finishing the sentence on his parchment without looking. "My lord jarl. What is it?"


    "As you are no doubt aware, the king has ced me in charge of the treasury," Valerian said with a hint of a smile. "I am going through the guild taxes, and they have withheld some taxes in order to pay for the kings mercenaries."


    "I have no records nor knowledge concerning the guilds," the quartermaster replied dismissively.


    "But you do record the mercenarypanies under contract with the Crown," the jarl remarked. "I know this, as they were formerly in my employ, and I turned them over."


    "And what is your interest in this matter?"


    Valerian waved around a stack of documents in his hand. "I wish topare my lists concerning taxes and payments with your records, to ensure the guilds are actually paying for troops as they im."


    The old clerk gave a small sigh. "I suppose your diligence is admirable." He rose from his seat with difficulty and walked over to a shelf. With his eyes just a handful of inches away from the ledgers, he read through the titles on their spines. "Here we are." He pulled one book from its brethren and returned to his desk. "Normally, we do not allow our ledgers to leave this room, but given the jarls reputation, I assume it will be returned in good order."


    "No need to remove it," Valerian dered. "I will probably require other books. That is why I brought my lists with me," he exined with a cunning smile. "I will take that seat." He nodded towards an empty desk and did as he had imed.


    "If you must," the quartermaster replied, returning to his work.


    ~~~~


    As he had done after previous battles, Sikandar gathered his lieutenants in his tents to determine what lessons to learn. Unlike at Ingmond, where a crude map had been drawn to depict the battlefield, the captain had a detailed illustration of Middanhal showing the walls, towers, defensive equipment, and estimates of the garrison.


    "They have stone throwers on this, this, and this tower," Arash reported, pointing at the locations on the map.


    "And here and here," Rostam added, using the same gesture.


    "Along with the other reports, that leaves three openings for our siege towers. One of which remains impassable," Sikandar considered.


    "Will two suffice?" asked Rostam.


    "They will have to," the captain replied. "What effect did the fire arrows have?"


    "Not enough, in my opinion," Arash said. "Enough remained on the walls to give us trouble. Their garrison is perhaps even stronger than we were told."


    Rostam nodded. "The fire pots worked better, causing disruption. Only briefly, of course, but used at the right time, it should provide an opening to take the walls."


    "Agreed." Sikandar nodded slightly. "That should not be difficult to organise."


    "Even so, if I may speak," Rostam said hesitantly. With no objection from the captain, he continued. "Their numbers are strong, and they are prepared. Taking the city by storm will inflict great losses."


    "It would," Sikandar conceded, "but the Godking expects that we take the city sooner rather thanter. Our soldiers are expected to give their all."


    "All for the Godking," Rostam hurried to say, with Arash joining in.


    "When does he arrive?" asked thetter.


    "In about three days time, along with enough reinforcements to end this war," Sikandar dered. "We best have our preparations made before that. To that end, I will keep you no longer."


    His lieutenants bowed their heads and left.


    ~~~~


    "The spy is here to see you, my king."


    Brand looked up at his thane. "You know not to detain him."


    "He is not alone." The warrior clenched his jaw. "He has a Dwarf with him."


    "In that case, send them both in."


    Godfrey entered first, followed by the dvalinn of the Dwarves in Middanhal. The two visitors could scarcely be more different; the former wore in clothing, undyed and of cheap make, whereas thetter had woven garments with rich embroidering. Godfrey had coarse stubbles and an unkempt appearance; the dvalinns beard was neatly braided with silver rings.


    "My king, this is Lord Ivaldi, dvalinn of House Starkstone. All the Dwarves of Adalrik heed his words," Godfrey spoke.


    Brand rose, giving the Dwarf a curt nod, which was reciprocated in the same manner. "Be seated." He gestured to a chair opposite his desk and took his own seat. "Pour ale for my guests," he added, directed at a servant in the corner, who swiftly carried out themand. Once both Godfrey and Ivaldi sat down, the king spoke again. "What brings you to my chambers?"


    "My lord king has conscripted soldiers for the Order," the dvalinn spoke, "yet no Dwarves fight in your ranks. They are not allowed."


    "If they were, would any join? It is not my understanding that your people would fight under our banners. Even if your homes are as much under threat as any."


    "We are not inclined to do so, no. But we might raise our own banner and fight alongside yours," Ivaldi suggested.


    "In what numbers?"


    "Two thousand strong. Armed and armoured."


    "Warriors or craftsmen?"


    The Dwarf crossed his arms. "Whether against an enemy or an anvil, my men know how to swing a hammer."


    Brand gave a polite smile, drinking from his cup of ale. "And what price do your two thousand hammers demand?"


    Ivaldi locked eyes with the king. "We want the rights afforded to any who dwell in Adalrik."


    Brand nodded a little. "I can understand that. If you shed blood the same as others, you should enjoy the same rights. I see no reason to deny it. Provided your warriors acquit themselves well."


    "They will, my lord king, and you can trust that as strong as stone. But there is another thing."


    Brand leaned back in his seat. "More demands? You take me for a desperate man."


    The dvalinn shook his head. "This affects us all. We want the ounders defeated for good."


    "By which you mean?"


    "Once the siege has been lifted, you must invade the Reach and retake Dvarheim."


    Brand nced at Godfrey, who spoke a single word. "Niheim."


    "An invasion of the Reach is not a simple proposition," the king dered. "Half the realms are under invasion. We are at war both east and west."


    "If you leave this enemy to retreat and recover, they will return," Ivaldi imed. "You will fight them again and again, as you have done for centuries. The time to destroy them is now! Reim Dvarheim for my people, and we will fight by your side every step of the way."


    "Those are bold words, my lord dvalinn, but simple. A blind invasion into the Reach, of which we know nothing, and a lengthy siege that could drag on for years, while the forces of Alczar ravage the westernnds," Brand considered. "You ask a steep price."


    "I expected bold action to suit the king who once crossed the Weolcan mountains," Ivaldi retorted.


    "You would not be blind," Godfrey interjected. "You would have allies and detailed knowledge of the enemy. It is not as difficult a proposition as it might seem at first nce."


    Brand stroked his chin. "I will consider it. I shall let you know of my decision, Lord Ivaldi." The Dwarf made a gruff sound and rose from his seat. "Stay a moment, Godfrey."


    "As you wish." The wanderer gave a small nod to the dvalinn, who left.


    "Any news?"


    Godfrey shook his head. "I go beyond the walls tonight. Ask me again tomorrow."


    "Fine." Brand hesitated briefly before he spoke again. "This dvalinn must know his demands are ludicrous. I cannotmit to a full invasion while fighting on two fronts! He may consider me on my knees, pressing his luck in this way, but he cannot honestly think I willmit to years of war in foreignnds for the sake of mere two thousand men."


    "The Dwarven folk have been disappointed before," the wanderer said. "They remember the old wars and broken promises. They are loath to trust your people, Brand. You do not know the risk taken by the dvalinn to make this offer."


    "That does not change the situation," Brand retorted. "The duke of Belvoir hase to my aid with six thousand men, and he expects, quite reasonably so, that I will liberate Ealond once Adalrik is free. Am I to make a mockery of one ally to cate another?"


    Godfrey exhaled before his words slowly came. "I think the next days will determine everything, and you need every soldier you can get. If promises must be made only to be brokenter, whether to one ally or another, such is the kings lot."


    Brand drummed his fingers against the table. "I will send a message tomorrow. Best to let the dvalinn think the decision required long deliberations."


    "And I have a meeting to attend. With your leave." Godfrey bowed his head quickly and departed.


    ~~~~


    Rostam walked through the siege camp, his meeting with the othermanders at an end. As he passed one group of soldiers after another, huddled around their cooking fires, he received many a greeting, nodding in return.


    In the darkness, few would have noticed the ckboot that slid up next to Rostam. "I seek the morrow," Dariush spoke quietly. "Keep walking."


    The lieutenant did so, casting a brief nce at hispanion. "You serve him?"


    "We share the same goal. What can you tell me?"


    "Two siege towers. One past the third turret west, counted from the gate. One past the fifth turret to the east. That is all I know at present."


    "Good." As discreetly as he had approached, the ckboot left Rostams side.


    Dariush moved to a part of the camp that resembled any other; the same tents stood erected in the same formation. Yet none of the Anausa could be seen; the few men around the fire wore the same dark garbs as Dariush.


    Seeing him appear, Kamran rose. "Did you learn anything?"


    The other ckboot gave a slight nod. "I did. Ill go tonight to pass it on."


    "Be careful. There are patrols everywhere."


    "I doubt they will interfere with the business of a syag. I am more concerned how he will reach me and get back, unseen."


    Kamran gave a shrug. "He is Javed." He spoke again with a touch of concern. "Be safe, my brother."


    Dariush touched him on the arm in a quick gesture of affection before he left, disappearing into the ck of the night.

 Chapter 218: For Another Day

    Chapter 218: For Another Day


    On the second day of the siege, the ounders seemed content to use their stone throwers and archers, harassing the defenders as they could, who responded in the same manner. Meanwhile, on the horizon, siege towers took shape, swiftly built by skilled craftsmen. On the third day, as soon as dawn allowed light to reach them, the towers began to move.


    ~~~~


    On the walls, they watched with astonishment and rising dread as the siege towers approached. Besides these implements for scaling the walls, the ounders brought their usual weapons alongside. Raising shields, the mixture of Order soldiers and peasant levies protected themselves against arrows and rocks, waiting for the enemy. On the nearest towers, longbowmen aided as best they could, aiming to hit any exposed ounders within range.


    Rolling uphill, the siege towers moved slowly. Scores of men stood behind, pulling great chains through intricate machinery that transferred their strength to the siege machine; in this manner, even while standing behind, the soldiers could pull the tower forward. Next to them, others pushed wicker screens to protect against arrows. Even so, at times, one of the Anausa fell; quickly, someone further back would hurry forward to take his ce. And with each pull of the chains, the towers moved inexorably closer to the walls.


    ~~~~


    Thanks to the openndscape that gently sloped downwards, most defenders on the fortifications could see the great siege engines rolling forward. That included Sir Richard, who had an excellent vantage point atop a turret. Large numbers of Order soldiers and levies stood ready on the nearby walls topensate for reinforcements being further away.


    "Hel on a horse," the knight mumbled. "Those madmen are actually pushing towers up the slope. Their backs must be breaking."


    "At least theyre moving slowly," his sergeant remarked. "By the time they reach the walls, half the garrison will be waiting for them."


    "At least theyre not moving towards us," someone else said, causing nervousughter.


    "Keep your opinion to yourself," Richard barked. "If I get anymore bored, my beard will fall out."


    "Sir, you may have your wish." The sergeant leaned forward between the crions, pointing. In the distance, red robes moved forward swiftly towards their position.


    The knight strained his eyes. "What do you see?"


    "Riders carryingdders, sir. Theyll be here quickly!"


    "Same trick as Athelstan did. All bastards think alike," Richard muttered. "The towers are a diversion." He turned to look over his shoulder at an Order soldier holding a banner. "Get swinging! Here is where the fighting will be at!" While the standard bearer began waving his g, signalling the need for reinforcements, the knight ran to the other edge of the tower, leaning over the parapet. "They areing!" he roared at the soldiers below. "Get in ranks and get ready!"


    ~~~~


    To the west, the lord marshal watched the approaching siege tower. He stood on a turret without a catapult, leaving the defenders unable to destroy the oing siege engine. They could do nothing but fill the walls in close ranks and steel their nerves.


    Nearer and nearer it moved, a monstrosity on wheels. Arrows were exchanged between defenders and attackers to little effect. Surrounded by Order soldiers, Sir William stood with drawn sword; his men all had spears, ready to create a wall of iron upon the wall of stone.


    Finally, the siege tower reached its goal; it could go no further. The ounders blocked the wheels, ensuring it stayed in ce, and began to swarm up its innerdders. Behind, thousands more approached to join in the assault, and the defending archers turned their arrows on them instead.


    The Order soldiers waited, hands grasping hafts. Already, sweat formed on their brows, either from wearing heavy equipment under the sun or from fear. The sound of metal scraping reached them as chains moved through the siege tower; like a drawbridge, it opened up its maw to disgorge red-robed warriors. They leapt forward onto the wall, greeted by a host of spears.


    Behind the first line of attackers, another wave threw fire pots. Where theynded, mes burst forth to disrupt the defenders. As some soldiers screamed in pain, their surcoats on fire, others recoiled in horror, and the orderly ranks were torn apart.


    "Hold fast!" William shouted. "Defend!"


    Seizing on the confusion, the ounders poured onto the wall.


    ~~~~


    To the east, the same events had yed out, allowing the ounders to gain a foothold here as well. From the nearest tower, Athelstan watched his soldiers try in vain to repel the attackers; unlike the lord marshal, he had only levies at his disposal. Slowly, the ounders fought their way towards his position; the turret provided ess from the outer walls to the inner. "Get ready," he told the nearby soldiers before disappearing down thedder.


    The knight emerged on the lowest level to see the men under hismand being ughtered. "Fall back," he yelled. Only those close by could hear him over the noise of battle, but once they began to retreat, the others became aware and followed suit.


    With victorious cries, the ounders surged forward. They cut down thest defenders, rushing towards the entrance into the tower. Moments before they reached it, the door was shut. Two stragglers did not make it in time. They smashed their hands against the wood to no avail; the entry was shut, and behind the door, the soldiers piled up any furniture in the tower to act as a blockade. Pitiful cries turned to death screams as the ounders cleared the wall and began hacking away at the door.


    "Now!" Athelstan shouted up thedder, and hismand was repeated along the chain of his soldiers. As the attackers became pressed together, the defenders on the inner wall and tower began pelting them with rocks. Shields and helmets gave little protection with skulls breaking under the onught.


    Realising their situation, the ounders became desperate to break through the door, made of strong oak and reinforced by steel. A fire pot was thrown to set it ame, followed by the blunt end of spears to batter it down. Every moment the door held, more ounders fell to the hail of stones.


    Finally, the nks splintered against the dual attack of fire and brute force. Tables and barrels greeted the ounders, stacked to form a quick barricade. Wielding a spear with both hands, Athelstan stood directly behind to stab at anything within reach. Further back, two archers shot arrows through any opening. Hemmed in on all sides, the ounders cried out for their god to help them; the few that could put all their strength towards pushing past the barricade, made further difficult by the bodies of their own fallen. As the dead piled up, it became clear that neither their prayers nor their efforts would avail them.


    ~~~~


    At the third point of attack, the ounders hade further than anywhere else. Using twelvedders and taking heavy losses, the Anausa had swarmed up the walls until they gained a foothold in several ces. With the defenders split up, they eliminated the pockets of resistance and made for the nearest tower. Clearing it out, their own archers reached the top, findingrge quantities of arrows intended for the defending bowmen. With this vantage point, they rained death upon the defenders on the inner wall, who fell in great numbers, trying to protect the entry from the tower onto those fortifications. Only a knight of the Order still held them back.


    Standing in the doorway where the archers above could not reach, Sir Richard of Alwood swung his sword again and again. His surcoat was covered in blood and had burnt edges. "Come on, you bastards!"


    The ounders obliged him, but his heavy armour and great shield protected his short frame too well, and his position made it impossible to outnk him. Spears and arrows came against him to no avail; any warrior that dared approach felt his de.


    Corpses, whether attackers or defenders, littered the floor. The fighting hadsted half a day at this point, and sweat met blood on the knights brow. Still he stood, raising his shield against every assault.


    An ounder appeared unlike his brethren. He had discarded his sword and shield, picking up a club from one of the dead levies instead. With a roar, he charged Richard, raising the blunt weapon only to swing low.


    With a dreadful sound, the club struck the knight on his knee, making his leg copse. Richards shield saved him as the edge struck the floor, allowing him to regain his bnce, and his sword quickly struck to im another soul. With a noise born of fury or pain, he rose again, raising his shield in anticipation of the next attack.


    It did note. Instead, sounds of fighting came from within the tower itself. From up the lower walls and into the turret, soldiers of the Star appeared; the reinforcements had arrived atst. Sweeping down the fortifications, aided by archers on the inner wall, they ughtered the ounders to a man; none of them tried to surrender. Letting his shield and sword fall, Richard all but fell to the floor, back against the very entry he had defended for three hours straight. Middanhal was safe for another day.

 Chapter 219: Breathless

    Chapter 219: Breathless


    The ounders did not follow up on their initial attack the next day. The assault had been to test the garrison and exploit possible weaknesses to seize a swift victory; since that had proven impossible, they instead made further preparations. Soon, many more siege towers began to rise.


    Another reason existed to keep the ounders in their camp. As the morning waned, more and more soldiers trickled in from the vanguard of the reinforcing army. They confirmed with eager voices the stories that had already been told many times; the Godking marched with them. The god under the mountain had finally awakened, and he came to lead his people to final victory.


    Anticipation gripped the men. Nearly all ounders lived their entire lives without ever seeing their god, yet they had heard the Servants of the me, praying endlessly with innumerable sacrifices for the Godking to appear. Atst, those prayers had been answered.


    The next sign of his arrival proved to be two shadow warriors. With guttural voices, theymanded a path to be cleared to the centre of the camp, where the priests had taken residence. Scores of servants appeared next, setting up a tent with the luxury to rival a pce. Hundreds of soldiers lined up to watch until the area was packed; only the intended path into the camp remained open, patrolled vigntly by the shadow warriors.


    The entire morning passed this way, and still the ounders remained in ce, waiting. Suffering hunger and thirst, they stood. The mood began to boil, and when the Godkings train could be seen in the distance, it rose to a frenzy.


    "Hees!"


    First came the bulk of the reinforcing army, thirty thousand soldiers strong. They dispersed to set up their own camp as an attachment to the existing one. Carts rolled in, carrying supplies. And finally, twenty shadow warriors marched in, surrounding a litter carried by eight strong men. Rather than cloth, the raised chair was surrounded by wooden panels, providing protection from both arrows and eyes.


    "The Godking!"


    "Hes here!"


    "Save us!"


    "Destroy the unbelievers!"


    Countless cries rose into the air. A few stepped forward, out of line, and were quickly knocked to the ground by the nearest shadow warrior. The cortege continued past the masses of supplicants, paying them no heed, until it reached the middle. The bearers continued all the way into therge tent. Soon after, they returned, leaving with the litter while the shadow warriors took position to surround the domicile made of fabric.


    More soldiers and carts streamed into camp, but nobody else emerged from therge tent. Eventually, the crowds began to dissolve, as people sought food, rest, or had tasks requiring attention. Yet a few remained, prostrating themselves before the Godkings residence. Some prayed loudly, others mumbled; over time, a few drifted away while others joined. If any of their prayers reached the recipient inside the tent, none could tell.


    ~~~~


    The door to Theobalds study opened, allowing the jarl of Vale entry. He found the captain of the city guard hunched over a map of Middanhal. Crude wooden blocksy scattered in different colours, marking troop cements across the walls.


    "Captain, if I may have your attention," Valerian said.


    Theobald whipped his head up. "What? I have little time to spare."


    "I am aware. I have tried to meet you for days now." The jarl sounded slightly indignant.


    "I have a city to defend. What is it?"


    "I will be swift." The jarl pulled out several pieces of parchment. "You may remember, the king has made me overseer of the treasury, and something has struck me as odd."


    "And?"


    "The guilds have withheld some of the war taxes," Valerian began to exin.


    "My responsibility is military, not coin or trade," Theobald interjected. "Speak to the king."


    "This does pertain to the citys defences, captain. Specifically the garrison. The guilds withhold the taxes because they pay for a mercenarypany, The Unbroken Shields."


    "So? We need every soldier."


    "But as I examined your quartermasters lists, they are not mentioned as being part of the garrison."


    "If the guilds pay for them, they would not be," the captain exined impatiently. He pointed to a crudely carved wooden piece lying on the map in front of him. "Here. They are quartered in these warehouses, kept as reinforcements for the eastern walls."


    The jarl frowned. "All two thousand of them? There are barely any warehouses in Lowtown, and certainly not to amodate such a force."


    "My lord jarl, the king awaits me." Theobald grabbed the map of the city with a swift pull, sending wooden pieces flying. "In case you did not realise, we are under siege." He gestured pointedly at the door.


    Valerian turned, muttering to himself as he left the study. "Something does not add up."


    ~~~~


    Sikandar, captain of the ounder army, walked through the camp. A shadow warrior apanied him, acting as his silent guard. All soldiers shied away from their path either out of respect for themander or fear for hispanion. Reaching the Godkings tent, Sikandar relinquished his weapons before entering, still with the shadow warrior at his side.


    Once inside, the captain immediately prostrated himself until his brow touched the heavy carpet on the ground.


    "Rise, Sikandar."


    Obeying the deep voice, the ounder did so, keeping his eyes low. His fingers trembled slightly until he ced them behind his back, grasping one hand with the other.


    The tent wasrge enough to have several rooms; in some of these, ves waited until they were needed. Every item present was made from precious metals. Silver pitchers for pouring into golden cups. Velvet carpets covered every inch of the ground. Silken sheets on the bed. Heavy trunks made from cedarwood containing clothes of the same fabric. An armour made of red steel inscribed with runes stood next to a great sword and a spiked mace.


    In the middle of the tent stood a great wooden chair with intricate carvings; upon it, the Godking was seated, nked by two shadow warriors. With eyes of singr colour, he beheld his captain through the narrow slits of his mask.


    "When will the next assault take ce?"


    "In two days time, Divine Majesty."


    "How?"


    "We have built many more siege towers. Some of them will not be able to reach the walls, but their mere presence should draw reinforcements, leaving other areas less defended. Besides that, stormdders on the gatehouse."


    "Good. Use as many troops as needed. I have more soldiers on the way."


    "Yes, Divine Majesty."


    "Once the faithless are weakened, we will strike the final blow." He turned his head slightly, and the shadow warrior by his right hand growled.


    ~~~~


    "About a thousand men are too injured to fight anytime soon, if ever. Half that number fell," Theobald exined. Before himy his map of the citys defence, except it adorned the table in the kings chambers.


    "Heavier losses than I would have thought," Brand muttered, ncing between the captain and the map. "Especially as we knew where their towers would strike."


    "They struck elsewhere as well," Theobald said. "Here, where Sir Richard defended with mostly levies from the South. They were little match against the enemys well-trained troops. We took our heaviest losses there. We will have to pull most of our remaining reinforcements away to rece them."


    "Exactly where I feared," Brand mumbled. "Their spies are as good as ours."


    "They took greater losses, though," the captain pointed out. "We counted nearly two thousand dead on the walls, along with those killed before they even made it that far. They must have a fair number of injured as well."


    "Unfortunately, they can absorb those losses with ease. We cannot. Is Sir Richard able to takemand again?"


    "If you asked him, he would im so, but I have told him to rest for now," Theobald exined. "I will take thatmand personally tomorrow and bring a few hundred men from the Citadels garrison. That does leave the castle nearly undefended," he admitted.


    "So be it. The city matters more."


    The captain bowed his head, rolled up the map, and left.


    ~~~~


    In a tent of modest size, the two lieutenants of the ounder army shared a wineskin. "Careful," Arash warned. "That is myst one."


    Rostam tipped the skin to fill half his cup. "I wonder if any more can be found somewhere in camp."


    "I doubt it," hispanion scoffed. "After yesterday, anyone who can drink, is drinking. Just look at us."


    "I suppose." Rostam handed over the skin and took a sip from his cup.


    "At least the Godking has arrived. Surely the city must fall now."


    "You would think so." He scratched the back of his head. "But if so, why did we attack yesterday?"


    "How do you mean?"


    "If the Godking is so powerful, why does he not simply make the walls crumble? Why did so many of our soldiers have to die yesterday, gaining nothing?"


    Arash stared at him. "You should choose your words with care. If the wrong person heard you, the Servants would have you on a pyre."


    "I am aware."


    "I am still surprised you did not lose your head when you lost Tothmor. Or that you had the nerve to return rather than simply flee into the mountains."


    Rostam emptied his cup. "My duty was not yet done."


    ~~~~


    Despite whaty outside the walls, life at the Citadel continued as usual. Trade with the southernnds had only recently been disrupted, and for now, stockpiles of most goods remained avable. As the northern gate remained open, rationing of food had yet to be introduced. Thus, while soldiers fought and bled on the fortifications, courtiers lived as usual.


    The king rarely joined his court for meals, taking them in his chambers. The euphoria after his election by the Adalthing had long since subsided; instead, courtiers murmured at the reasons for his absence. He did not fight at the walls, which would have exined his rare appearances.


    Those inclined to view him in a favourable light remarked that he no doubt organised the defence, as was his duty; a captain led from amand post, not the front lines. Others assumed he had left the responsibilities to his underlings; a few even imed that ill influences kept him cid, though none agreed on the source of such pressure.


    Thus, when the king appeared in the great hall for the evening meal, whispers arose in such strength, it sounded like a nest of hos. The courtiers barely had time to rise as he strode across the room, taking his seat at the high table. Once he had, the rest sat down as well, resuming their meal.


    "So d you decided to join us, Brother," Arndis smiled, sitting at the kings right hand.


    "It was your idea," Brand grumbled. Two kingthanes took position behind him while Geberic hurried to fill his goblet and te.


    "And an excellent idea it was," Jana chimed in, seated at his left hand.


    "Now I must hear this from both of you! A conspiracy," he growled, taking a deep draught of his wine.


    "Make sure to eat," thedy of Alczar softly added. "Your cheeks are hollow."


    The seating arrangement caused further whispers. It would be custom for the king to have his queen on the left side and his dragonlord on his right; Jana and Arndis upied those ces instead while Theodoric sat one ce further to the right. If this disconcerted him, he showed no sign of it.


    "What did the good captain say of our defences?" asked the jarl of Theodstan with a voice louder than needed.


    "They are strong," Brand replied after a moment. "Our soldiers have repelled all assaults and inflicted heavy losses on the enemy."


    "The city is safe?" asked the dragonlord next.


    "Completely. Our garrison is strong as are our fortifications, and the enemy cannot encircle us to starve us out. Victory is only a matter of time." Brand broke his bread into smaller pieces, letting it soak up gravy.


    The whispers continued around the hall. Some took note of the kings words; others looked at the lines that furrowed his brow.


    ~~~~


    A ve ced a pearl into a goblet of ss, holding a mixture of wine and vinegar. A hiss could be heard briefly as the precious stone dissolved. Approaching the Godking on his seat, the ve kept his head bowed low while presenting the goblet on a te. His master took the proffered drink, and the ve immediately stepped back, disappearing behind a curtain.


    Removing his mask to reveal smooth, handsome features, the Godking emptied his ss before extending a hand to let it drop. It fell on the soft carpet, receiving no damage. Once his mask sat on his face again, the ve returned to retrieve the goblet and make a hasty retreat once more.


    Commotion could be heard outside the tent. Raising his deep voice, the Godking spoke. "Exin."


    A shadow warrior entered. "A soldier tried to force his way inside with a drawn knife. We apprehended him."


    "Bring him in."


    The dreadful guard bowed his head and left, returning immediately with a red-robed soldier in his grip. He threw the captive onto the ground, face first, and nted a boot on his back.


    From his chair, the Godking stared with his odd eyes at the soldier. "Why?"


    As no answer came, the shadow warrior bent down p the man in the back of the head. The captive looked up as much as he could, staring at the Godkings form. "Tyrant," he whispered. "How many have you fed to the mes, only to serve your vanity?"


    The ruler of the ounders rose with measured movements. With one quick gesture, he waved the shadow warrior to step back. At once, the captive tried to leap to his feet. He barely made any progress before the Godking reached down to grab him by the throat.


    Holding him in one hand at his long arms full length, the Godking stared at his would-be assant. "Not vanity. To keep you in your ce." He began to squeeze. Moment after moment passed. The soldier gasped for breath in vain. The sound of bone cracking could be heard. Once his windpipe had been crushed, the Godking threw the man aside. "Remove him."


    The shadow warrior bent down, dragging the corpse outside.

 Chapter 220: Desperate Act

    Chapter 220: Desperate Act


    The ounders changed strategy. The first assault had been strategic; ack of troops forced an attack with limited equipment at the greatest vulnerabilities. On the fourth day of the siege, such limitations were gone. Numerous siege towers greeted the defenders, moving up the gentle slope towards Middanhal. Elsewhere, screens and catapults rolled out, preparing the way for contingents to follow carrying stormdders. Not all the towers could reach the fortifications, as the ounders had not been able to remove all obstacles in their individual paths, but the defenders did not know this. Thus, every location on the walls waved their banners, signalling for reinforcements.


    Stone throwers on the turrets released their charge. With frantic movements, the engineers adjusted the aim as best the cumbersome machines allowed, dispatching another round of rocks. A few hit as best could be hoped for, smashing into the approaching siege towers to render them useless. Despite this and the difficult terrain, three of the great engines reached their destination. The drawbridge on top fell down to reach the wall, and the Anausa leapt into the fray.


    ~~~~


    Fifteen hundred men filled the fortifications around the gate, all of them wearing a red hawk as their emblem. The gatehouse itself along with the nearest turrets had scores of archers from Vidrevi; every forester who had entered Jarl Isarn''s service now fought for the king.


    They watched as ounders swarmed towards them in spread-out formation. Defending catapults unloaded their shots in response, raining heavy stones down upon the attackers. Next to Rostam, a rock struck a soldier on the head. His helmet became crushed against the skull, and blood seeped out.


    Arrows flew in both directions. With inferior numbers of archers, fewer came from the turrets, but their vantage point meant they often struck true. Reversely, the ounders had difficulty hitting the defenders behind the crions, but they sent volleys in such numbers, it darkened the skies.


    "Ladders!" shouted a lieutenant of the Red Hawks.


    Nearby, Jorund gripped his spear, keeping his eyes trained on the gap between the crions.


    Next to him, Gawad raised his shield. From above, arrows came in repeated showers. "I envy you your stature, my short friend!"


    "Just keep that shield up and keep your yapping to yourself!" the Dwarf replied. "Here theye!"


    The top piece of thedder fell down to hook itself against the stonework of the wall. The face of a red-robed soldier peered over the edge, climbing thedder. Jorund rushed forward, impaling the attacker.


    With a death rattle barely audible over the noise of the fighting, his opponent fell away while Jorund pulled his spear back. Yet already, another attacker appeared, moving swifter. He jumped up, raising his shield just as Jorund struck again, hitting only metal. With another leap, the ounder was past the crions. Behind him, another came.


    Sneering, Jorund dropped his spear, drew his short sword, and stepped forward.


    ~~~~


    The fighting continued for half a day before the ounders blew their horns, signalling a retreat. Victorious, the defenders hacked the siege equipment to pieces; in the case of the rolling towers, oil and torch made for a merry fire. Wounded were carried to the healers, working in lean-tos by the walls or buildings requisitioned for the purpose around Lowtown. Reinforcements took over to man the walls, keeping watch. As for the dead, they were stripped of weapons and burnt in great pyres; too many had fallen to make burial practical. To the families left behind, nothing but ash was given to grieve by.


    ~~~~


    Retreating to their camp, the mood among the ounders was as could be expected. Attacking across a wide front, they had sustained heavier losses than on their first assault. Looking from the ground up, the double walls of Middanhal seemed invincible. Their retreat did not allow them to retrieve their dead either; countless corpsesy strewn across the field, coloured red not only by their garments, but also spilled blood.


    Yet uplifting news awaited them as the day waned. The vanguard of further reinforcements reached them. An endless ocean of crimson tents rose, as their camp expanded once again. The Godking hadmanded hisnds to empty, gathering all his forces to end this war; now, nearly a hundred thousand soldiers stood ready to crush his enemies.


    ~~~~


    Arman stirred a small pot, simmering over a faint fire. "Did you hear someone tried to kill the Godking?"


    "What possessed the fool to try that?" asked Dariush, cleaning his equipment.


    The other ckboot looked around, keeping his voice low. They were outside the main camp on the western side of the Mihtea, keeping up constant scouting of the area. In the dark, only the embers of their cooking fire could be seen; they appeared to be alone. "He had his reasons, didn''t he."


    Dariush nced up. "There are more fravashi surrounding that tent than fleas on a dog. Not even Javed could get through."


    "Desperate people take desperate actions."


    "Get ready." Kamran''s voice reached them before he stepped in from the shadows, appearing at the edge of the frail light. The other two reached for weapons with quick movements, only rxing once they saw theirpanion.


    "What for?"


    "There will be an assault tonight. We are to scout the defences ahead of the army," Kamran exined. "Hurry. We leave soon."


    Arman stared with dismay at his pot while Dariush buckled his belt around him. "The drnders are unaware," thetter said. "With fravashi in the night? They will be ughtered."


    "We are expected," Kamran pointed out. "If any of us does not show, he will be branded a deserter."


    Dariush stuck his knife into its scabbard. "So be it."


    "Do not be foolish," Arman interjected. "We do not know when Javed will be at the meeting point. He might not appear until tomorrow! You''ll throw your life away for nothing."


    "If this war is lost, the morrow will nevere." The ckboot looked at his brethren. "Farewell, my brothers." The other men gave him a quick embrace; they did not have time for more.

 Chapter 221: Early Dawn

    Chapter 221: Early Dawn


    At any given point, scores of sentinels could be seen on the walls. In addition, every turret had a handful of archers keeping watch. Under the pale moon, they looked for anything that might arouse suspicion in the nket of night covering the approach to Middanhal. The reflection of moonlight in a helmet. The quick sh of a torch otherwise hidden under a cloak. Any kind of movement in the dark. Even just the sound of anything besides the wind or the footfall of patrolling defenders.


    The ckboots left no such trace. Their clothing made them part of the night, and they moved without causing the slightest stir. Cautiously, three dozen of these scouts crept forward, spread across the wide area that led to the walls. They crawled among the rotting bodies of their own soldiers, abandoned wicker screens, and destroyed stone throwers until they came close enough to count the defenders, who took no notice. As quietly as they had approached, the ckboots returned to their captain to inform him of the garrison.


    With this knowledge, Sikandar gave hismands. The order rapidly spread down the ranks, and five columns of soldiers set into motion against different parts of the wall.


    ~~~~


    "I can''t believe we got night duty," Nichsined. He rubbed his hands together by a brazier, where a few coals burned to provide light and heat.


    "You''ve said that three times," Quentin growled.


    "Well, there''s no sign of dawn yet, so be prepared to hear it again." The other archer yawned and leaned against the parapet. They stood atop one of the many turrets that adorned the fortifications of Middanhal. East and west they had the other towers along with the inner and outer walls. If they looked north, the city itself could be seen. But their eyes were turned south.


    "Don''t take cover against the wind," Quentin admonished him. "It''ll help to keep you awake." As if summoned, the cold night breeze swept over them, making Nichs shiver a little.


    "To think I could be warm in bed," Nichs said with longing.


    Hispanion nced at him before returning his attention to the darkness beyond the fortifications. "You should have slept after the fight, like I did."


    "I had to let Ellen know I was safe," Nichs protested. "Shes worried sick, every day Im on the walls."


    "Im sure that was it." Quentin narrowed his eyes. "Hey, look over there."


    "Where?"


    "At the only thing thats not pitch-ck," the other archer told him, pointing over the parapet. "Is that red? Dark red?"


    "Hard to tell." Next to him, Nichs strained his eyes. "Could just be another body. Theres plenty of them out there."


    "Too much of it to be just a single corpse  its moving!" Quentin eximed. "Theres movement!"


    "Its the same direction as the wind. Could just be that."


    "And if it isnt?"


    "Do we  what should we do?" asked Nichs.


    "Lets see if we can make sure." Nearby, a great torch stood unlit. Quentin ripped a piece of the oil-soaked rag and tied it around an arrow. Next, he stuck it into the brazier, where it quickly caught fire, and ced it on his bowstring. He drew it back as far as his strength allowed and let it fly.


    "Its too far," Nichs pointed out. "Its half a mile or longer at least. You wont hit."


    "I dont have to," Quentin mumbled. "Keep looking."


    The arrow flew several hundred yards, igniting a bright streak across the night sky. When it fell, a small ring of light glowed briefly before it went out.


    Moments passed where nothing happened. The two archers had their eyes pooled, staring into the dark. Finally, something moved again, but in a different direction than before, going around where the arrow hadnded  against the wind.


    "Its them," Quentin dered with clenched jaw. "Make the signal!"


    Nichs grabbed therge torch next to them and ignited it in the brazier. He ran to the other side of the turret, facing the city, and swung the me wildly.


    Meanwhile, Quentin moved over to open the hatch that led inside the tower. "Theyre attacking!"


    ~~~~


    As signals spread across the defences, the ounders abandoned stealth to favour speed. They rushed forward to cover the final distance, raisingdders in five different ces. Every avable soldier of the garrison gathered in those locations, assembling on the outer wall to beat back the assault or buy time for reinforcements. Order troops, peasant levies, mercenaries, rivermen, heathmen, and foresters, everyone avable. Armed with spears, swords, axes, clubs, bows and more, they heard the dreaded sound as thedders hooked onto the stonework. Gripping their weapons tightly, they stood ready.


    With screams to inspire dread, shadow warriors leapt over the parapet. They disdained every blow made against them, moving in close with short swords to fell defenders left and right. Behind them, soldiers came with fire pots, creating havoc. Bursts of me lit up across the walls followed by the screams of dying men to disturb the night sky.


    ~~~~


    Once their feet touched stonework, the ounders had only one purpose. Led by the shadow warriors, they ughtered their way through the defenders to seize the towers, gain ess to the inner walls, and flood into the city before reinforcements could push them back. If they achieved this, the Arnsbridge would be their next destination; once this chokepoint fell, the rest of the city would be theirs.


    Unable to hold the outer walls, the garrison mounted a desperate defence of the towers. Doors were locked while their own soldiers still fought outside, leaving them to die. Barricades were made from anything that might serve the need. These measures could not defend, only dy, buying precious moments. And still, the ounders pressed on.


    At the western-most turret, a shadow warrior leapt over the barrels and weapons rack blocking the entry from the outer walls. Taken by surprise, the nearest defenders dropped the furniture in their hands, meant to reinforce the barricade. Before they could draw weapons, the shadow warrior''s swords sliced them open.


    While other ounders pushed to demolish the blockade, the dread soldier continued up the stairs. Blood dripped from his des as he ascended the tower. On the highest step, an Order soldier waited, wielding not a spear, but a torch. Looking down, the shadow warrior saw specks of blood mix with viscous drops of oil. He snarled, raising his eyes to see the defender drop the torch, setting the stairs aze.


    ~~~~


    Furthest to the east, a simr story yed out, except for a different oue. Butchering the defenders, the Godking''s dark champion took the tower; storming up the stairs, the garrison could not hold him back. Behind him came a hundred ounders, themselves the vanguard of a thousand; further beyond the walls waited another ten thousand to hear word of where the breach had happened. Unlike the worn defenders, all of them were fresh troops who had yet to see battle during this siege.


    The shadow warrior kicked open the door that gave ess to the inner walls. A spear came against him, striking his thigh; barely flinching, the shadow warrior hacked the haft into pieces and rushed forward to kill its wielder. Already in disarray from their desperate retreat, the unskilled levies could not mount a proper defence. Chaos ruled the fighting, where the shadow warrior excelled. Peasant boys from the viges of Vale or Isarn died, one after the other. And all the while, more and more ounders stormed up the walls, filling the outer walls and pressing onto the inner counterpart. Step by step, they pushed towards the nearest staircase that led from the fortifications into the city itself.


    Another defender fell. Hisrades wavered. Death stalked the walls on this gruesome night in the shape of a terrible warrior with yellow eyes behind a steel mask. Whether struck by arrow or de or club, he continued to advance, barely bleeding regardless of wounds sustained.


    Amidst the howling gale and pained screams, another sound began to resonate; the beating of hooves against cobbled stones reached the men on the walls. Distant at first, but rising swiftly. At the foot of the staircase, the riders abandoned their mounts and pushed their way forward. Reaching the fighting, warriors in surcoats with a golden dragon threw themselves into the fray. ric and ukos, names already known to many, led the charge. They struck as the tip of a lightning bolt, shocking the ounders and stalling their advance. Behind them, wielding his de of sea-steel, came Brand.


    "The kingthanes!"


    "It''s the king!"


    "The king fights with us!"


    "Dragonheart!"


    Thirty men wearing the golden dragon filled the wall. In heavy armour and highly adept at closebat, they held the ounders at bay.


    Yet while their skill might measure up against the shadow warrior, they could not cause him injury. Still he fought on until his fell eyes saw the de in Brand''s hand. With a scream more suited for a beast, he leapt forward.


    His eagerness became his undoing; taking a step back, Brand evaded the blow aimed at his throat and swiftly retaliated. His de buried itself in the shadow warrior''s chest, tearing unholy flesh apart. With a kick, Brand pushed his enemy back to free his sword. Stumbling, the dreaded warrior fell from the inner wall down to the outer among the ounders still trying to push into the city.


    Seeing the Godking''s champion dead, the Anausa broke. With loud cries and fearful shouts, they turned back, fleeing from the fight.


    ~~~~


    At a third point of contention, the ounders had also reached the inner wall. But their advance had been halted; soldiers of Belvoir, hardened from previous battles against the king of Ealond, pulled back and regrouped. They presented a host of spears on the narrow path, slowing down even the fearsome shadow warrior.


    At a standstill, the ounders called for more fire pots to disrupt the defenders'' lines. The decision came toote; down the other side of the wall, a contingent of Order soldiers arrived. Led by a score of knights, they punched into the attackers, caught between the drakonians and the rivermen.


    The shadow warrior looked behind to see the soldiers wearing the Star; turning his eyes ahead, the same mass of spears awaited him. Growling, he jumped over the parapet from the inner wall to the outer. Another retreat was sounded. One after the other, as reinforcements arrived, the garrison beat back the incursions. As the sun rose to an early dawn, the defenders breathed a sigh of relief.

 Chapter 222: War and Peace

    Chapter 222: War and Peace


    A weary and wounded band rode into the courtyard of the citadel. Dismounting, the king and his thanes left their horses with the stable hands and moved with tired steps inside. As the sun had already been up for a few hours, their return was noticed by the inhabitants of the castle. Quickly, spection gave birth to rumours as the courtiers wondered what had taken ce during the night. They received no answers from the warriors, who returned to their quarters in order to rest and tend to injures.


    Stumbling into his chambers, Brand tossed his helmet on the table, grabbed a pitcher of water, and drank from it straight.


    "By the manner of your return, I assume the garrison has not fallen," Godfrey expressed.


    Brand ced the pitcher down and nced at his visitor. "Not yet. Your intelligence proved true. How did you know?"


    "You must allow me some secrets."


    "As long as they serve this well, I shall notin." Brand let himself fall back into a couch. "I do not have the count yet, but from what I saw, our losses could mirror theirs. Last night put a dent into our forces."


    "Our enemy is well suited for fighting in the dark. You will have to increase your vignce."


    "It is due to those beastly warriors they have." Brand''s hand fiddled with the hilt of his sword. "Not to mention, too many of my soldiers are barely trained. cing them on the walls is little different than leading sheep to ughter." He paused briefly. "How many of those dark warriors does the Godkingmand?"


    Godfrey scratched his head. "I would wager twenty to thirty."


    "Last night, we faced five." Brand exhaled. "I am not sure we can defend."


    "I do not think he will take such a risk. Neither in terms of leaving himself exposed and send his personal guards into battle, nor risking that should the assault go wrong, he might lose his strongest warriors. The Godking calctes every move," the wanderer imed. "He is searching for our weaknesses and vulnerabilities. He attacks and evaluates. If he believes he can win by whittling us down, he will do so."


    "He has reason to believe so," the king admitted. "Our walls do not give us the advantage they should. We are losing soldiers too swiftly to rece." He looked at hispanion. "What should I do?"


    "Despite all my experience, I am no captain normander of men." Godfrey returned the look, and for a brief moment, his face seemed to age, looking sixty rather than thirty. "I will aid you with all the intelligence I can offer, my king, but I do not know how to win wars. It is not my task to know."


    "I suppose that has been given to me instead."


    "I do have further knowledge to share. Doran came by an hour ago, bringing news."


    "Yes?"


    "The first hignders have arrived. You do not fight alone."


    ~~~~


    Through the day, the warriors of Heohlond marched through Woolgate to enter the city. Some came in honour of the old bonds between Adalrik and Heohlond. Others because their king or n lord hadmanded it. The remainder did so in support of the high king, himself the son of a hignder.


    They arrived one n after the other. Inparison to the oppressed mood hanging over the city, the hignders seemed at ease. The weather was mild, their journey had been gentle, and they came to defend a city known for its impregnable walls. For many of them, who had never left the hignds before, Middanhal was a ce known from legends and tales, and they spoke eagerly with each other, talking in the sight of the great Citadel.


    Besides the ns, two beggars saw their opportunity to slip into the city as well. They were a strange pair; their rags and blindfolds stood in contrast to how they carried themselves, walking tall as if they were dressed in princely clothes rather than worn garments. Both of them also had a heavy sack, and despite the warm weather, each had arge cloak around him. As the hignders moved to the Citadel, the beggars sought towards the Temple.


    ~~~~


    "There are rumours throughout the castle." Arndis stood in her brother''s chambers, looking at him.


    "Consider me shocked." Brand sat by his chessboard, moving the pieces around.


    "When the court wakes to find the king and his guards gone, only to see them return in a wounded state, it raises questions."


    He nced at her. "I would have thought even the dullest courtier could guess what had happened."


    "Nobody doubts that fighting has taken ce," Arndis replied impatiently. "Rather, the fact that the king himself felt it necessary to ride across the city and fight on the walls in person," she exined, "that makes people question the strength of our garrison. Have we no reinforcements left that even the kingthanes must be sent to the walls?"


    "We do. Last night was different. I received urgent intelligence and decided to rouse the garrison myself. But I have no duty to exin my stratagems to every courtier in the castle," Brand replied, moving his pieces around again. "If you were not my sister, you would not receive any either."


    "I only ask that I may disseminate this exnation throughout the court," his sister retorted, "to your benefit, I might add. People are anxious. You have an interest in keeping them calm."


    "Why?" Brand''s eyes shot up. "How many soldiers will that provide? How many provisions?"


    She regarded him with a cool expression. "Do not be so busy winning the war that you lose the ensuing peace."


    He returned his attention to the pieces in front of him. "If I do not win this war, there will be none left to contemte peace."


    ~~~~


    ced between the river and the southern walls, Lowtown felt the siege more than any other part of the city. Some buildings had been torn down as theyy too close to the fortifications or to clear pathways. Others had been requisitioned for quartering troops, necessary to be nearby that they might act as reinforcements. Nearly the whole garrison in Middanhal now lived in Lowtown, and the addition of more than thirty thousand soldiers could also be felt.


    Thus, while the appearance of a jarl with two thanes would have drawn looks and perhaps even daggers in normal times, it caused barely a raised eyebrow under the present circumstances. Riding through the streets, Valerian and his protectors made their way to one of the few warehouses ced in Lowtown; most merchants preferred the districts north of the Mihtea where the risk of theft was lower.


    Dismounting, the jarl approached the entrance while his thanes hurried to do the same, grabbing the reins of his horse along the way. A guard stood outside, wearing good armour and a grey surcoat with arge shield upon the chest.


    Valerian let his eyes nce over the soldier. "You are a member of The Unbroken Shields, I take it by your crest."


    "That''s right. What''s it to you?"


    "Yourpany is quartered in this building?"


    "Yes, what of it?"


    "How many?"


    "I am here to stand guard, not answer questions."


    "Your entirepany is said to be quartered here, but given the size of this warehouse, that is impossible," Valerian imed. "Where is the rest of yourpany?"


    "Some are outside the city, guarding merchant caravans," the mercenary replied. "Listen, you want to know more, ask my captain. This isn''t for me to say."


    The jarl frowned in thought. "How many are quartered here?"


    "Look. I don''t want trouble, but if you start any, I got a wholepany just past this door to back me up." The guard looked at each of the thanes in turn.


    "If you will not tell me, stand aside!"


    "That would be directly against my very simple orders of keeping people out."


    "I am the jarl of Vale," Valerian growled. "You will not hinder my passage!"


    "We''re not in Vale, milord, and I take orders from my captain, not you. I remind you, I got a lot more on my side than your two dogs here."


    Anger ran across the jarl''s face, but seeing the guard remain recalcitrant, he turned and left.


    ~~~~


    "Your dragonlord has arrived, my king."


    "Send him in." Brand looked up from his seat by his chessboard to see Theodoric enter.


    The jarl of Theodstan gave a bow. "You summoned me?"


    "While my mind is on war, I do not wish to forget other matters. Tell me if any whispers have reached you that I should know."


    "If any did, my king, I would not dy to inform you," Theodoric replied. "A few of the southernndgraves grumble that their troops have been pulled to the capital, leaving theirnds in danger of the enemy. Yet given those troops defend all of us, theirints fall on deaf ears."


    "What of your fellow jarls?"


    "Isenhart is easy to ount for. None have visited him besides his brother, as permitted by you, my king. Nor have I heard anything from Silfrisarn. Isenwald has taken up his father''s position and does very little with it, which all seem to find satisfactory."


    "Vale?"


    "He has been busy, but all his meetings fit with the nature of his task as treasurer. I truly believe he could not be happier than he is. I would not judge him to be a risk of any kind."


    "His brother?"


    "He has sent some letters to Ealond. Once I can copy them, I will let my king know of their content."


    "Good. Ingmond?"


    "Sulking in his mansion. He still refuses to let any of his troops defend the city, few as they are."


    "Let us hope his actual forces in Ingmond do more to harry the enemy," Brand remarked. "Once this is over, he will have to be dealt with. Has he done anything that would warrant dragging him before the Adalthing?"


    "I fear not. He has only met with the alderman of the guilds, presumably about the building of the temple in Inghold."


    "Let me know if anything changes."


    "I shall, my king."

 Chapter 223: The Path Not Taken

    Chapter 223: The Path Not Taken


    It was barely dawn when a thane entered Brand''s bedchamber. "Forgive me, my king, for waking you, but you gavemand to know the moment your spy returned."


    The king blinked a few times. "I did. Tell him to wait in the parlour. And have some ale brought for us both."


    "Yes, my king."


    Getting out of bed, Brand moved to stand in front of arge mirror. He inspected a few scratches from the recent fight, which all seemed to be healing. He let a tunic of cotton fall down over his head and walked to the other room, where Godfrey waited for him.


    "Any news?"


    "None sincest. But I''ll leave the city soon, just in case more intelligence appears. I simply returned to let you know there is no sign the ounders will attack today. They are still licking their wounds after the other night." Godfrey smiled before drinking deeply.


    "They will return once they have made new siege engines. But you have answered my most pressing question already. At least we have today."


    "You do. And the day after that?"


    "We shall see. I am assembling a council to determine our next course of action. Tell me, what do you estimate our enemy''s fighting force to be? After theirtest losses."


    "Close to eighty thousand men in fighting condition. And another four thousand riders."


    Brand sat down finally, picking at a loaf of bread. "And the dark warriors, those men of shadow," he continued. "You say they guard the Godking? Rather than fight on the field for him."


    "Indeed. What of them?"


    "I imagine if desperate, he might throw them into the fray nheless."


    "That seems likely. If he thought the siege might be lost otherwise."


    Brand''s fingers moved to his waist where his sword would usually sit on his belt. "And my sword  the de given to me  can hurt them like no other weapon can. Is that not true?"


    "It is." Godfrey cleared his throat. "Why do you ask?"


    "Just considering my duty. Thank you for your answers."


    The wanderer emptied his cup and rose. "Yours are not the only shoulders to carry the burden of this war, Brand. The Godking is powerful, true, but despite his name and desire to portray himself as such, he is no god. He can die, and the same goes for his fell creations."


    "Good. I trust you will return immediately, should you hear anything of importance."


    "Of course." Godfrey inclined his head and left.


    ~~~~


    In the Citadel, a room stood containing nothing but arge table with high-backed chairs. Its only purpose was to serve as a council chamber for the king and his advisors, as need arose. Some hours after dawn, themanders in his service began to arrive. Theobald, captain of the city guard, appeared as the first. Soon after, he was joined by William, the lord marshal, and Athelstan, the Order''s most capable captain. They greeted each other briefly before thetter two resumed their conversation regarding the turret that had burned during the nightly assault. Alois, duke of Belvoir andmanding a significant force in the city, arrived next, taking a seat quietly in the corner. Richard of Alwood, still wearing a few bandages after his heroic defence on the walls some days prior, strode in as thest man summoned.


    They waited a little while longer before the king finally arrived, carrying a scroll in his hand. Every man hurried to stand, though Brand gestured for them to be at ease. "Decorum is thest thing on my mind," he told them, taking his own seat at the end of the table and cing his scroll on it. "You may have guessed why I have bid youe."


    "To discuss strategy," Athelstan suggested.


    "Indeed. I have given the matter great thought, as I am sure you have as well. I believe I know the best course of action, but I should hear all counsel and arguments from you, given the weight of the decision."


    "You shall have it, my king," William dered, to which the other men murmured in assent.


    "We may continue with the siege as now. That would be the careful choice. While I have never been used of caution, I see the merit of this approach, given the very survival of our realms depend on it," Brand exined. "Yet I fear the caution may be deceptive in its promise of slow victory. Our losses during the assaults far exceed what was expected. Our walls do not protect us as well as they should against the evils that our enemy unleashes upon us."


    "Bastards," Richard muttered.


    "While we cannot be encircled, the northernnds will scarcely provide for us. Especially as Vidrevi cannot be relied upon. Grain from southern Adalrik, cattle from Korndale, salt from Hthiod, none of these things from Ealond nor reinforcements... We will starvee winter, and I fear our forces will be whittled down faster than those of the enemy, who meanwhile has free reins to plunder thends I spoke of."


    The severity of the situation did not seem lost on any of the grave faces that met the king. "We may have taken losses, but surely not as much as them?" asked Theobald. "With the arrival of the hignders, our garrison is strong."


    "You have the numbers," Brand pointed out. "Inform us."


    "Ten thousand hignders. Same number of Order troops. Five and half thousand rivermen." The captain nced at Belvoir, who bowed his head. "Two thousand mercenaries, and about seven thousand levies. Though this includes many hundreds of men, whose wounds are still healing, and they may not be much use in a fight for days toe."


    "How many knights?"


    "Three thousand or so."


    "Little over thirty thousand footmen," Brand said in summary. "Our enemy has eighty. And more horsemen."


    Shock appeared on their faces. "How does my king know this?" asked Athelstan.


    "You may rely on my intelligence being urate. It has proven itself in the past." None could dispute that. "If we take further losses as we have, it will be a toss of the dice whether our garrison breaks before their forces do. And winter cannot be expected to provide respite, given we would face starvation," Brand continued. "For that reason, I am considering to meet them on the field."


    Themanders exchanged looks. "If we are truly outnumbered, abandoning our walls seems... foolhardy at best," Theobald remarked.


    "But unlike now, where our enemy chooses when and where to engage us, we would have the initiative," Brand pointed out. "Their spies have proven their worth several times. We are always under attack where our garrison is hardest pressed to defend."


    "The terrain slopes downwards from the city towards them. It would favour us," Athelstan assented.


    "By the gods, a magnificent idea!" Richard struck his fist against the table.


    "If we can scatter their forces, they have many miles they must retreat," William considered. "Their supply lines are overextended, and they shall find no safe refuge between here and Lakon."


    "But they are more than twice our numbers," Theobald argued. "We might expect to take such losses that we will not have the forces to defend the city! Setting aside the likely risk of defeat, if the battle bes a stalemate, if we achieve anything less than overwhelming victory  any further defence of the city is untenable."


    "I understand the risks involved," Brand remarked. "What does the duke of Belvoir think?"


    The young nobleman ran one hand through his bright hair. "Given that Belvoir may soon be threatened by this scourge, I would support any attempt to drive them back."


    "How?" asked Theobald. "If we can barely keep them at bay behind our walls, how are we to crush them in open battle?"


    Brand took the scroll lying in front of him, which he had brought along to the meeting. Unfurling it, it revealed a rudimentary drawing of the area beyond the southern walls. "I intend the following strategy..."


    ~~~~


    In his study, the jarl of Vale sat surrounded by ledgers, books, lists, and parchments containing various scribbles. It took him a moment to register a knock on the door. "Huh? Come in!"


    One of his thanes stepped inside. "A clerk from the merchants'' guild left these for his lordship." In his hands, he held yet another ledger, which he stepped forward to give the jarl.


    "Good, good." Valerian received the book with glee. "Wait a moment."


    "Yes, milord."


    The jarl opened the book, flipping through pages. Reaching thetest entries, marked under recent dates, his eyes slid over the figures. A smile appeared on his face. "Send a message to the guilds. Tell the alderman to meet me in my study tomorrow."


    "Yes, milord."


    Still smiling, the jarl grabbed a quill and began copying numbers from the newly arrived ledger.


    ~~~~


    "You asked to see me?" Jana stepped into the king''s chamber, and her eyes fell upon Brand, seated by a table set with food. The smell of spiced meat and vegetables filled the air between them.


    "I do not have the mental fortitude to dine with the court tonight," Brand exined, "but nor do I wish to eat alone. Would you join me?"


    "dly, my king." She spoke the title with a wry smile, taking a seat opposite him.


    "You may leave us," Brand told his servant once thetter had filled wine in Jana''s cup. "I asked for a meal that might reminds us both of Alczar, but with the siege and short notice, even my power met its limit. This will have to do instead."


    "After the desert, I find that I am much less picky with my meals," Jana admitted. "I would have eaten an olive straight from the branch back then."


    Heughed a little. "I did that once. One of my first days in Alczar, in your father''s gardens. I was hungry and had no knowledge of olives, so I picked one and threw it in my mouth. It was so bitter, I thought I had been poisoned!"


    Her ownughter mirrored his, echoing through the room. "I remember that story! It was one of the first things you told me. Gods, I have not thought about that in ages."


    "Nor me." He began carving his meat. "I wondered at something."


    "Yes?" She took a sip of her wine.


    "Do you remember on the boat when we left Fortnn. We thought we might reach Herbergja in secrecy. That we would be free to choose our own path."


    "I remember."


    "I suggested that we might stay hidden rather than return to all of this. Leave for the forests of Vidrevi." Brand raised his eyes from his te to look at her. "What would you have chosen?"


    "Does it matter? We will never have that decision again."


    "It matters to me."


    Jana ran her fingers down her cheek. "I would have chosen the forest."


    "Truly?"


    "Another thing the desert taught me. If you have water, food, shelter, and you are not alone, you need nothing else. All of this," she continued, touching the ring in her ear while her other hand gestured at theirvish surroundings. "They are simply decorations." She let out a deep breath. "What would you have chosen?"


    His eyes lingered before he reached out to take his cup. "The same."


    ~~~~


    The royal wing had living quarters for the kingthanes, keeping them close to their royal charges. The king''s captain and his champion sat by one table, oiling weapons and armour in preparation of battle. ukos still had a bandage on his arm from a wound sustained in thest fight, but it did not seem to hinder his movements.


    "How many of us will take the field?"


    "Seventy," ric replied.


    "That does not leave many at the castle."


    "The king will not be at the castle," the captain pointed out. "Nor will the fighting be there."


    "I suppose."


    "And with luck, we will not be fighting either. If I know our king, the battle will be won without our involvement."


    ukos scratched his cheek. "I have followed our good king even longer than you, ric. Whether fate or his own will, he is always in the thick of it."


    "Better make sure your sword is sharpened, in that case."


    "Sharper than yours, and faster, I wager."


    ~~~~


    The sun had waned in the sky as Brand moved through the Citadel, apanied only by one guard. He moved to the Order''s side of the castle, encountering a few servants and the asional soldier. Looking surprised at seeing the king, they hurried out of his way.


    He continued until he reached a small room with a shrine to Rihimil. Years ago, he had spent the night in vigil at this ce, preparing to take the knight''s oath. Gesturing for the kingthane to remain outside, Brand entered alone, shutting the door behind him.


    He crossed the room to kneel before the altar and statue. Leaning forward until his brow touched the feet of the god, he began to pray. "Lord of the divines, great Rihimil, protector and keeper of my life. You have been my shield through countless dangers. I pray that tomorrow, your will shall be done. Bless every soldier who fights to protect this city."


    He paused and swallowed before he continued his whisper. "I believe you have kept your hand over me that I might serve you, and I will. I shall wield my sword in your service, even to the end of my life. But I ask you, if I have served you well and found favour with you, let me see the day after tomorrow. Let me witness peace, the prosperity of my people. Let me have long days with those who dwell in my heart. As your faithful servant, I pray not only for victory, but also peace."


    A few moments passed in silence. Opening his eyes, the king straightened his back and rose from the floor. With a final look at the altar, he turned around and left the shrine.

 Chapter 224: The Brothers Swordsmen

    Chapter 224: The Brothers Swordsmen


    Barely past dawn, the soldiers of Adalmearc prepared across the city. From Lowtown to the Citadel, they gathered on the Arnsweg. In the castle itself, both the northern and southern courtyards werepletely packed. All farewells had to be made inside before the noblemen, knights, and soldiers walked outside to take their ce in formation. From the windows, their families watched them march out, not knowing if they would return.


    ~~~~


    Once the armies of Adalmearc had left the city, an anxious mood descended upon those staying behind. The streets appeared nearly empty as most people stayed indoors. An ill wind seemed in the air with battle on the horizon; few had any appetite for work or trade.


    As an exception, the alderman of the guilds trudged his way to the Citadel, apanied by some guards. Summoned to meet the jarl of Vale, he passed through the gate, crossed the now empty courtyard, and entered the castle. He encountered only servants and the asional courtier until he reached the jarl''s wing, where a handful of thanes stood guard; the rest had been sent to fight.


    As the alderman entered Valerian''s study, he found the royal treasurer sat behind his desk, but the usual stacks of books and ledgers had been cleared away. Only a single piece of papery in on it, filled with numbers. The jarl looked up and gestured for his visitor to take a seat.


    Licking his lips, Edwin sat down opposite Valerian. "What did you need to see me for, milord?"


    "I have concluded my investigations into the guilds."


    "I see."


    "It has taken me weeks topare list after list, ledger after ledger," the jarl dered. "All the profits made by the members of every single guild,pared to the taxes paid."


    "A monumental achievement, milord."


    "ording to my figures, since you became alderman, the guilds have underpaid their taxes to a sum of four thousand, three hundred and fifty-seven golden crowns, thirty-two silver eagles, and three copper petties."


    "Three coppers, even. What an exact number."


    The jarl smiled. "I have been thorough. Trust me on that."


    "I do not doubt that."


    "Furthermore, the guilds have imed to pay the wages of the mercenarypany, The Unbroken Shields. Yet no more than half thatpany is presently in the city, as the other half is imed to be away protecting trade caravans. Of course, with most of the trade at a standstill, that seems a dubious im. Which makes me consider whether that is simply a ploy, and to save coin, you have dismissed the mercenaries rather than pay their wages."


    "Is that a question, milord? Did you summon me here to ask that?"


    Valerian''s smile broadened. "Truthfully, I simply wanted to tell you the news in person. You may expect all your personal belongings to be seized and the guilds to be punitively taxed as rpense. While theft is not usually punished by execution, even theft from the Crown, an exception may be made given the severity of the crime." The jarl exhaled a sigh. "Gods, the satisfaction of unravelling all of this. Finallyying all the cards on the table. You have been a worthy adversary, master alderman, but you could not fool me."


    Edwin fiddled with the ring on his finger. "Amusing that in the end, it would be you of all people to see through me. I admit, the masquerade has been most tiresome."


    Valerian leaned back in his seat with a smug expression. "Never underestimate the importance of good bookkeeping."


    "Bowing and scraping to lesser men, simply because the chance of birth ced them in high positions." The alderman scraped his tongue against his teeth. "While I was born on the streets of Middanhal and had to w my way through the world!"


    The jarl looked at him, taken aback. "Hear now, no need to shout. You tried to cheat, and you lost. Time to face the consequences, my good alderman. Guards!"


    "No position was ever simply given to me." A sneer ran across Edwin''s face. "I killed my master to take his ce. I killed the guild master to take his. I killed the alderman to take his. I have killed kings and princes, and I am not done."


    "Good gods, you sound positively deranged. Guards!"


    Edwin removed the gemstone on his ring, revealing the needle underneath. "You wondered where I kept those mercenaries? My dear Valerian, I brought them with me."


    From the hallway, noise could be heard. Frowning, the jarl stood up and quickly crossed the room. He opened the door. Screams and sounds of battle spilled into the chamber. Outside, his few thanes were desperately fighting several men wearing the emblem of The Unbroken Shields.


    "I''m d you summoned me," came the voice behind him. "You see, I also wanted to do this in person."


    Valerian turned around to see Edwin''s raised handing at him. The poisoned needle on his ring glistened in the pale sunlight from the window.


    Stepping back, the jarl evaded the alderman''s hand. "pping a jarl? Are you insane, man!"


    Edwin tried again, but Valerian dodged the blow as before. Quickly, the jarl turned around and fled down the hallway.


    "Help! Brigands! Bandits! Impertinent bastards!"


    He ran past the fighters, avoiding errant sword blows. Crossing from the courtside to the Order side of the castle, the jarl continued his cries of rm; behind him, the increasing noise of battle reinforced his message.


    He burst into Theobald''s study. The captain looked up from his map of the city, detailing the sparse garrison left behind. "What is it?"


    "Enemies," Valerian gasped, catching his breath. "Here!"


    "In the city?" eximed the captain, rising to his feet. "Where?"


    "Castle! Courtside! We are betrayed," the jarl stuttered through rapid breathing. "Mercenaries and Ingmond''s men."


    Theobald drew his sword and reached for a shield hanging on the wall. "Run to the Temple," he told the jarl. "Tell the Temrs we need help! Go through the northern gate!"


    "Yes," Valerian assented, "just  one moment. Going  going now." As the captain rushed out of the room, the jarl followed at his own pace.


    ~~~~


    With the gate open and barely any garrison, the attackers faced little opposition. They swept through the Citadel, butchering the few Order soldiers guarding the southern side of the castle. As servants and courtiers alike hid in fear, locking themselves in, the fighting spread across the fortress. In the northern side, where the Order had living quarters, many wounded and recovering soldiers could be found; despite their injuries, they had to arm themselves and join the frantic defence.


    Descending from the jarl''s chambers, Edwin passed through the corridors painted with blood. He stepped around the bodies to make his way towards the throne room. He walked past two dead kingthanes, each of them surrounded by several fallen mercenaries. Inside therge hall itself, several servantsy dead along with more warriors of the various colours. The alderman moved around these as well until atst, he stood before the throne.


    He walked up the steps, his shoes leaving a trail of blood. With a sigh of satisfaction, he turned around to sit down upon the throne.


    He sat in silence, gazing upon the corpses in the hall, until one of the smaller doors opened. Ten mercenaries walked in, pushing a prisoner with them. It was the captain of the Citadel, bleeding from many wounds.


    "There are some pockets of resistance," one of the soldiers told the alderman. "A few kingthanes have barricaded the royal wing, and the Order closed the northern gate before we could get in. We have to take the rest of the castle going through the hallways."


    "Not an issue, I take it," Edwin said.


    "Hardly, milord. It''ll just take time."


    "You despicable traitor!" Theobald rushed forward, but the haft of a spear tripped him, making the mercenariesugh.


    "My dear captain, how you always looked down on me. I rather enjoy this reversal." Edwin smirked from his seat as Theobaldy in the dust and blood on the ground before him. "But I must say  you seem to have made a miraculous recovery. For a cripple, you move rather fast."


    "Doesn''t fight like one either," a mercenary admitted. "Bastard killed eight of us before we got him. Taking him alive didn''t make it easier on us either. There better bepensation for that."


    "Yes, yes, gold is the least of our concerns. After all, I do have plenty of it," the alderman smiled. "I''ve kept you alive, captain, that you might tell your brethren to surrender their arms. End the pointless bloodshed."


    Pushing himself up, Theobald tried to stand. A soldier pped a hand on his shoulder, keeping him on his knees. "Master alderman," he spat, "you will face the same fate as every other tyrant. If the gods are kind, I will be there to watch."


    "Predictable," Edwin sighed. "All you knights and thanes are the same. Look at the soldiers around you!" He gestured to the mercenaries. "Your honour will get you killed, while my gold will make them rich. Only a fool would choose as you did."


    "As grating as I find your voice and words, you will have to use steel to kill me," Theobald retorted.


    "But you are not as simple a fool as these others, are you, captain," the alderman continued. "All the years I have known you, you''ve limped. Quite conspicuously. Perhaps more than was warranted? But what could be the reason for that?"


    Theobald did not deign to reply. His breathing had be ragged, and blood continued to trickle from the worst of his injuries.


    "Did you grow tired of war, my good captain? Always being sent away on campaigns. A man with a bad leg can''t ride a horse into battle," Edwin spected. "Did you pretend all these years, just to have a safe,fortable position here in the Citadel? Well, for the first time, I may have found respect for you, Captain Theobald." He spoke the title with a smile. In the distance, the sounds of battle grew louder.


    "I never had any for you. Hoarding your gold to have others fight your battles for you."


    "Hardly," Edwin suddenly sneered. "I was eight when I killed for the first time, captain. I had found half a loaf of bread  a treasure to an orphan like me. Another boy tried to steal it, and I bashed his skull in with a rock. I found three copper coins on him, captain, and I have never felt so rich as I did that day. More than that, do you know what I learned?"


    "Spare me."


    "There was no punishment. I had killed him, taken what had been his, like he tried to take what was mine. I was rewarded. So you see, captain, while you practised with wooden swords and ate every night till your belly was full, I survived on scraps, fighting for every morsel!"


    "You are nothing but a coward." Disgust filled Theobald''s voice. "Like a toothless viper, striking only when your enemy is defenceless."


    Shrillughter came from the throne. "You don''t see? It was not grief that killed the old king. It was not hignders that killed his son. It was not brigands who killed his grandson. For twenty years, I have steered this kingdom to ruin, preparing for this moment. I have earned this throne."


    Theobald''s eyes narrowed, bing full of hate. "You lie. You could not have done all that."


    "I had some help," the alderman admitted. "I found an ally who gave me many gifts. Even now, his armies have drawn out all defenders, leaving the city in my hands."


    "Gods, I hope your death is painful."


    "The feeling is mutual, captain, and unlike you, I have the power to see my hopese true." The alderman turned to look at the nearest mercenary. "If he will not help us, we have no need of him alive." The hired de grinned and raised his sword.


    One of the smaller doors into the hall burst open. A soldier wearing Ingmond''s livery stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. After him followed a Temr in all his fury.


    "Kill him!" The mercenaries lowered spears and formed ranks, holding the knight back.


    Behind them, Theobald nced up. One soldier had stayed by the prisoner, but his attention remained on the Temr like the others. Leaping into action, the captain thrust his head into the mercenary''s stomach. The rings on his chain shirt tore into Theobald''s face, but he fell upon his enemy, grabbing the knife from his belt to stab him in his throat.


    Blood pouring down his brow to nearly blind him, Theobald rose with the dagger in his hand.


    "Help!" squealed Edwin, his voice lost in the din of the fighting. "Mercy!"


    Staggering up the steps, the captain approached the alderman. "No."


    "Please! I''ll pay you anything!" Edwin begged.


    "All your gold cannot buy my honour," Theobald exhaled. He plunged the dagger into the pretender''s chest before grabbing his tunic to pull him down from his seat. Edwin tumbled down tond by the foot of the throne, bleeding to death. His strength expired, the captain fell to the ground, dying next to alderman.


    ~~~~


    In the Temple, the departure of forty-nine Temrs had left a fearful mood. Many of the priests and priestesses could be found in frantic prayer, whether in the Hall of Holies or their own cells. Others gathered in small circles, wondering and specting at what had happened, though few had any idea; even the ckrobes seemed taken by surprise.


    Sitting by the basin in the gardens, the highfather had no attendants except the sole remaining Temr, standing guard. Surrounded by frantic whispers across the great courtyard, he appeared almost serene in his quietude.


    Thissted until a ckrobe hastened across the open space to approach Septimus. The silver patterns on his clothing proimed him the leader of Rihimil''s priesthood. "What news, Eadric?" asked the highfather.


    "Still fighting at the Citadel, but the soldiers on the northern walls have joined in the fight. Between our Temrs and the remaining Order troops, we should prevail. Yet there is another matter."


    "What?"


    "Only some of the mercenaries have attacked the Citadel. Others, a few hundred at least, hold the Arnsbridge. Furthermore, this morning, one of our brothers in Lowtown saw soldiers scattered around the district, bearing the insignia of Ingmond. After the army had moved out."


    "It makes sense to control the bridge, I suppose, but surely they will surrender once their assault on the Citadel has failed?"


    "But Jarl Vale told us half the mercenarypany quartered in Lowtown. A thousand men," Eadric pointed out. "Why would these traitors concentrate so many troops south of the river when the hardest battle would be the Citadel? Something is amiss."


    "The walls!" eximed the Temr.


    The highfather looked over his shoulder and up at the knight behind him. "Exin."


    "They have enough men to take the southern walls. The garrison will not expect to be attacked from within. After that, the traitors can close the gates. If our army needs to retreat from the battle..."


    "They will be caught against the walls and ughtered," Eadric muttered.


    "And worse than that," the knight continued, "even a small force of say, one thousand men, moving out to attack our army in the back at the height of the battle? Our lines would break. Our forces would be annihted."


    "What can be done?" asked Septimus. "Would these soldiers stand aside if the highfather of the Temple bade them?"


    "The mercenaries are southrons," Eadric pointed out, shaking his head. "We must fight them."


    "All our soldiers are fighting at the Citadel. They will never reach it in time," the Temr argued.


    Eadric looked around. "We will have to fight." Seeing the other two staring at him, he continued. "There are sanctified weapons at the Temple, or tools that may serve. The whiterobes have their hammers. The greenrobes have bows. Even a dagger will have to do."


    "Against experienced soldiers in armour? It will be a ughter!" argued the knight.


    "Eadric is right. At least some of our brothers and sisters can fight. All those who can, must," Septimus dered. He looked up at the Temr. "You must lead them, Sir Tancred."


    "I stayed behind to ensure you would be protected, Holy One," the knight protested.


    "My survival is irrelevant. If I would be any use, I would fight as well. Go, sir knight, and fight on my behalf. Save our city."


    Looking from the highfather to the ckrobe, the Temr clenched his jaw and finally nodded. "Tell every man or woman to grab a weapon if they can wield one. We have to leave at once."


    ~~~~


    While robes of different colours left the Temple in great numbers, a wanderer came the other way. He entered the courtyard, looking around with a confused expression. Noticing Septimus, sitting alone, he approached the highfather.


    "What has happened?" asked Godfrey. "I return to find fighting in the Citadel, and the Temple looks deserted."


    "Traitors in the city," Septimus exined. "They attacked the Citadel, and I sent the Temrs to aid. But now we learn that they hold Lowtown and the Arnsbridge. They will lock the gate against our army outside the city, or attack them in the rear."


    Shock took hold of Godfrey''s face. "That''s madness! The city will fall!"


    "I sent all my brethren to fight  all those that can. I pray they can stop the traitors, but I fear  I fear they will be ughtered." The old priest''s voice shivered, and his eyes began to glisten. "Everything is lost, Godfrey. In one day. All our efforts made in vain."


    "No," muttered the wanderer. "I will not ept this."


    He turned away and cast his gaze in every direction until he found his prey. Striding across the yard, he approached one corner where two men sat against the wall, covered by cloak and hood.


    "You are needed," Godfrey told them. "There''s fighting in the city."


    One of the men cast down his hood. He rose to reveal his full height, greater than the man who spoke to him. Removing his blindfold to reveal even-coloured eyes, the beggar lfwine turned himself into Alfmod of old. "We came as you bid to defend the Tree. Do not ask more of us."


    "You must! Our enemy is outside the city, but his servants are already within. They will pave the way for him. He must be stopped!"


    "I feel the battle already," muttered the Elf''spanion. He did as Alfmod had, removing his trappings to reveal himself as Alfbrand. "Death stalks this city and beyond. It suffocates the mind. Thisnd is dead, Godfrey, and every moment spent is a thorn in my flesh. Yet we came. Now you would have us drive those thorns into our eyes?"


    "Let the sons of Men drive our enemy back," Alfmod added. "We will fight if they fail."


    "They will fail! The Godking has proven more cunning than we fought. Our defenders are betrayed," Godfrey impressed upon them.


    "Every life taken is another stain," Alfmod continued. "You know what it is that you ask."


    "I do, and I ask it nheless."


    "I have not drawn my sword in a thousand years," Alfbrand muttered. "I had hoped for another thousand years to pass."


    "You will have to fight today," Godfrey told them. "If you do not seek the enemy now, he will find you soon. The only difference is that if you strike first, you may save countless lives."


    The two Elves looked at each other. "If we return from this, the burden upon us will be heavy," Alfbrand said.


    "If we do not return, the burden will be yours," Alfmod added, ncing at Godfrey.


    "Such is my lot."


    With deep breaths, the Elves opened their bags and began to arm themselves.


    ~~~~


    Scores of bodiesy on the Arnsbridge, dressed in different colours. ck, green, yellow, blue, and white. On the southern end, mercenaries stood in a shield wall with spears aimed at the slender passage. To the north, those same colours could be found on priests and priestesses still alive. They wielded a strange assortment of weapons, such as tools for harvest or smithing. Many had injuries; those with the most grievous wounds had already been carried back to the Temple.


    Standing out from hispanions, Sir Tancred stood at the edge of the bridge, gazing across its span to the host of spears waiting. Although wearing armour, he bled from gashes here and there; even armed with a great sword, he had not been able to lead his ragged band of would-be warriors to break through the enemy line.


    "We must attack again," demanded Caradoc Whitesark, whose bright robe had stains of red. Having followed the king from Heohlond to the Reach, he enjoyed pre-eminence among not only his brothers, but most of the clergy. A great hammer rested in his hands, familiar with crushing skulls in many ces. Yet even the respect afforded him did not seem to lend his words any stirring effect; exhausted and fearful, the other robes did not meet his eyes.


    "Perhaps if we ce archers in those buildings," the Temr considered, pointing at the nearest structures that nheless stood some distance from the bridge.


    "Our arrows will be hard pressed to reach that far," admitted a greenrobe. She held a shortbow in her hands, meant for hunting small game or birds. "We can try, but in that case, it would be best to lure them out onto the bridge, closer."


    "We could use the spears as javelins," suggested a silrobe, wielding such a weapon.


    "They are meant for fishing, not throwing," Tancred argued. "They will not hit well."


    "I''ll go first," roared Caradoc. "I''ll smash some heads, and you can follow!"


    "You will die before that. It has to be me," the knight imed. "I am the only one in armour."


    As they discussed, two warriors pushed through the crowd of robes. Tall and armed in shining steel, they drew every gaze; at the sight of their single-coloured eyes, the stares shied away. Reaching the knight, their appearance made the discussion fall to silence.


    "We will open a gap in their line," dered Alfmod. "You must take advantage of it quickly before they can reform their ranks."


    The Temr stared. "Are you gods or Hel-spawn?"


    Alfmod exhaled. "Allies." He nced briefly at Tancred. "Remember! Move swiftly, or the advantage is lost."


    Stepping onto the bridge, the two Elves grasped shield and de. For the first time since the Great War and the battle of Valmark, the pair known as the Brothers Swordsmen drew their weapons together. The sea-steel shone in the daylight; the sun seemed to grow brighter. They moved forward.


    Ahead waited fifty spears, six feet long. A wall of iron and death, impossible to prate without being impaled. The cousins continued their march; fifty paces became forty, thirty, and twenty.


    They shared a look and a nod; no words needed to be exchanged. They began to run. Twenty turned to fifteen, ten, eight, and as the spears loomed before them, the greatest warriors to walk thends sprang into action.


    Alfmod fell to the ground, rolling and sliding forward. His shield pushed the lowest spears up, giving him passage underneath to sh his sword into unprotected ankles.


    Alfbrand leapt onto the parapet of the bridge, using it as a steppingstone to jump over the wall of iron. As his shield and sword deflected the spears raised hastily against him, he crashed down among the mercenaries, pushing them to the ground.


    At once, both Elves were on their feet, standing back to back. Recovering from the surprise, the mercenaries found their spears unwieldy in the closebat. Several of them fell to quick sword strokes before they could draw their own des. A circle of corpses grew, causing further disruption. Finally, the soldiers began to strike from all sides, forcing the Elves to defend and deflect, unable to retaliate.


    A two-handed sword clove a helmet. A great hammer crushed another. Arrows flew. Like a wedge driven into the opening made by the cousins, the robes drove into the ranks of their enemy. With the pressure relieved, the Elves could move offensively once more. Their swords cut again and again, felling a foe each time. The gap widened, the wedge drove further, until the defensive lines began to fall apart.


    ~~~~


    Once they no longer could hold the Arnsbridge, the mercenaries made a swift retreat. In pursuit, Sir Tancred led the priests and priestesses to the southern walls, where the soldiers of Ingmond had massacred the remaining garrison. Thispleted, they had assembled before the gate, ready to sally out when the fleeing mercenaries reached them. Already, many of the drakonian soldiers seemed shaken by themand to attack the garrison, questioning the jarl and his allies. Seeing a horde of priests and priestesses descend upon them broke their spirits. They threw their weapons aside, unwilling to ughter men and women of the clergy, and fled into Lowtown.


    Defiant, the jarl once known as Raymond the Pious demanded his thanes and loyal warriors to fight. A dreadful battle ensued. Wearing no armour other than leather, the servants of the Temple fell in great numbers to terrible sacrilege. The robes were outmatched.


    A hundred horses came riding down the Arnsweg. The highfather had sent word to the Citadel of this second danger; with the enemy driven from the castle, Temrs and Order soldiers arrived on every steed they had been able to find. Some were old warhorses, no longer deemed fit for battle; others were draught horses, taken from merchants, or mares meant to bear young noblewomen rather than fully armoured soldiers. Regardless, they served the purpose; the remaining resistance fell apart. As one of thest still fighting, Ingmond turned his sword on himself.


    ~~~~


    Alfbrand and Alfmod did not follow the others to the gate at first; instead, they stayed at the bridge and tended to their injuries. As they saw the reinforcements from the Citadel rode past them, making their involvement unnecessary, they finally continued in the same direction at a calm pace, reaching the edge of the city. They walked past corpses to ascend the wall. From here, they gazed southwards upon the battle being fought on the slopes of Valmark.

 Chapter 225: Death upon the Land

    Chapter 225: Death upon the Land


    When the day was still young, before any mercenaries had marched on the Citadel, the armies of Adalmearc assembled on the southern slopes before Middanhal. In gleaming armour, with great shields and tall banners flying, they arraigned themselves upon the foothills of Valmark, facing an enemy more than twice their numbers.


    Furthest to the west, where the terrain became ragged, two thousand Dwarves and their dvalinn had taken position. In front of them rose spiked fences, deterring any cavalry charge. Next to them, making up the main part of the nk, stood the forces of Belvoir under their duke.


    Order forces and Red Hawks led by Athelstan of Isarn took the centre; despite holding the main position, they were arrayed in wide ranks only four men deep, trusting in their superior armaments and experience to hold the enemy back. The seven-pointed white star of Adalmearc flew upon their ck standards.


    The hignders and the levies conscripted in Adalrik had the eastern nk with William of Tothmor as their lieutenant. As the most vulnerable fighting force, they stood in narrow ranks many lines deep. Behind them, every archer in Middanhal had been ced, led by a pair of Hthian longbowmen renowned aspanions of the king.


    Beyond the archers, the knights of Adal could be found upon their war steeds. The horses scraped the ground, throwing their heads around as they sensed the anticipation in the air. Each rider gripped spear and reins, ready for the charge; Richard of Alwood led the host.


    Further back on the slope up towards Middanhal, the king of Adalrik sat on his horse, surrounded by thanes. His sergeant held the banner of the golden dragon on blue, same image as upon their surcoats; with grim faces and a view of the hills that rolled down before them, they watched in silence as the enemy marched out to meet them.


    Unlike the Mearcians, the ounders appeared as one force. Standards of a ck armoured fist upon red unfolded in the wind. Every soldier wore the crimson robes of the Anausa, wielding weapons of the same make. They spread out to form their own centre and nks, evenly ced six lines deep. Jenaab Sikandar kept a strong force behind as reinforcement, along with his own cavalry; even so, the battlelines of his army extended further than those of the Mearcians. Next to him, seated on a litter and d in red steel, the Godking watched his subjects prepare to wage war.


    At the foot of the incline, Sikandar had a diminished view of the fieldpared to his counterpart. Yet the weaknesses among the Mercian lines could not be hidden, and with a satisfied look, he issued his firstmands of the day. Trumpets sounded their metallic cry, repeating his orders across the gap to his armies. In response, more than sixty thousand soldiers advanced.


    ~~~~


    As ever, the ounders began their assault with waves of arrows. As expected, they did the most harm to the east among the exposed hignders and peasant levies. The Mearcian longbowmen retaliated, using their greater bows and higher position, iming many victims in turn.


    More trumpets ryed Sikandar''s next order; while the other positions continued to shoot, the eastern nk gave up exchanging arrows and advanced. With better equipment than the troops opposite, the Anausa went into closebat.


    Standing in the front line, William waited until the enemy had almost reached them; rather than let them reform their lines after their advance, he yelled the order to charge. Sprinting forward to close the remaining gap, the Mearcians attacked with spears, axes, clubs, ils, and any other weapon avable. Better armed, but disfavoured by the terrain, the Anausa fought back, and neither side seemed to gain ground.


    Sikandar gave further signals. The rest of his frontline infantry set aside their bows and advanced as well. Battle roars gave way to the deafening cacophony of steel striking steel. Soldiers wearing a white star or a red hawk held their own; to the west, the deep ranks of the rivermen also proved steadfast, and the duke of Belvoir encouraged his men. Further out, the Anausa outnumbered the Dwarves, but the spiked defences disrupted their formation and robbed them of this advantage.


    Spears met shields across the length of the battlelines. The infantry of either side became entrenched, fighting evenly for now. To the north and south, bothmanders watched their soldiers die. Sikandar, who had reserves, remained passive; Brand, whose army could not absorb losses for long, gave an order.


    ~~~~


    Furthest to the east, Richard watched the banner of the king being waved in signal to him. With a grin, he ced his helmet on his head and picked up his spear from where he had thrust it into the ground. "My lords, our moment hase."


    The knights under hismand arranged themselves in staggered formation like the tip of a javelin. With a tight hold on reins and weapons both, they drove their horses forward.


    The movement made by such arge mass of riders and steeds could not be hidden. Sikandar gave his own order, ryed to Rostam, leading the Zhayedan. The red-robed horsemen moved out as well, forced to carefully consider their speed. Riding too fast, they would tire their horses going uphill and engage the Mearcians far from their own reinforcements; too slow would allow the knights to simply turn right and charge into the ounders'' infantry, tearing the nk apart.


    Whether from fear of thetter or some other reason, Rostam led the Zhayedan swiftly against the oing knights. Both sides spurred their horses on, lowering spears while maintaining formation during the gallop. Only the skill from a lifetime spent practising warfare in the saddle allowed this, and the best warriors from either army could be found in the sh of cavalry.


    But Nordsteel armour, great stallions from Korndale, and terrain favoured the knights of Adal. With terrible ferocity, their spears impaled the ounders even through shields and iron shirts before shattering. The front line drew des, exchanging blows. Disying unmatched horsemanship, the knights in the back ranks retreated swiftly, recreating their formation to make another charge. They hammered into the Zhayedan from the side, felling them in great numbers.


    Sikandar gave anothermand. As in the first battle of the war, thousands of spearmen kept in reserve stormed forward to fight the entrenched knights. Yet their path led them within range of the Mearcian longbowmen on the eastern nk, who had saved most of their arrows. As they saw the Anausa move forward towards the engagement, they resumed shooting.


    Volley after volley struck the unsuspecting ounders on their swift march. Hundreds fell from the first barrage before they raised their shields. Suddenly hindered in their movements and forced to protect themselves, their ranks fell apart. Rather than a concentrated blow, the Anausa trickled into the fight  those that made it past the archers.


    ~~~~


    Watching his cavalry falter, Sikandar turned his eyes towards the weakness in the Mearcian lines. The centre where the ranks looked vulnerable, only four men deep. Already, the Order soldiers and Red Hawks had lost ground; they seemed forced to defend only, unable to push back or inflict casualties on the ounders. Sikandar gave anothermand, and his final reserves set into motion.


    This time, the defending archers could not offer any reprieve, having spent their arrows already. Unhindered, the Anausa reached their brethren fighting in the middle. They surged forward, recing weary troops to attack with renewed force.


    Having seen the iing reinforcements, the Mearcians responded. Led by Athelstan, they yielded further ground. Step by step, they pulled back, using this to likewise rece tired soldiers at the front and allow them to catch their breath. But even with skilled leadership and every other advantage at their disposal, the sheer difference in numbers asserted itself. The Mearcian lines grew thinner; the ounders roared and pressed forward, sensing victory within their grasp.


    Brand released a deep-held breath and gestured for another signal to be given. From the east and the west nks, the back lines of his army retreated under skilfulmand and turned towards the middle. So certain of imminent conquest, too eager to push forward, the ounders had gone too far in the centre. Moving ahead of their brethren on the nks, they left themselves exposed. As if caught by pincers, they found themselves under pressure from three sides.


    Unprepared, the red-d soldiers stumbled to fight back. Along the edges, they tried to retreat under the sudden onught, but the mass of soldiers did not allow any room for the smallest manoeuvre. Unable to form any lines, defence became impossible. A ughter began.


    ~~~~


    From his seat, the Godking watched his army be decimated. Next to him, Sikandar sweated; no reinforcements remained. Already, the Zhayedan had begun to retreat, and although most of the infantry still fought, the situation had be clear; defeat was imminent.


    "You have failed me," the Godking proimed with a calm voice. "Your fate will be decidedter." He reached out his hands to both sides. One received a spiked mace, the other a great sword. Rising to stand, the runes on his red armour seemed to glow briefly. He began marching towards the battle, surrounded by his shadow warriors.


    ~~~~


    The Anausa died in droves. The nks could not push; the Dwarves held firm in the west against any attempts to force them back, fighting with unmatched spirit, and under Sir William the Unyielding, so did the levies to the east. The overextended centre, holding most of the ounder forces, was trapped and attacked on three sides. Confident in victory, the Mearcianmanders spurred their troops onwards.


    The Godking reached the lines. Immediately, five shadow warriors went to each of the pressed sides, while the remaining ten stayed by their master''s side. Their presence right and left quickly began alleviating the pressure. Throwing themselves intobat with reckless abandon, they scorned steel and barely took wounds, slicing the Mearcian soldiers apart. As the sun passed beyond noon, the ounders reasserted themselves, ceasing their retreat.


    ~~~~


    The sound of thundering hooves met the screaming of steel and shouting of men. Having vanquished the Zhayedan, the knights charged into the ounder infantry from behind. They tore through the ranks, tipping the scales of the battle yet again. "Death!" shouted Sir Richard, swinging his sword with glee. "Kill them all!"


    The Godking turned to face the new threat, as did his protectors. Snarling, the shadow warriors leapt forward to face this foe. They felled the horses and stemmed the knights'' charge that moments before had seemed inexorable. After them, the Godking came. When his mace fell or his sword struck, a knight died.


    Already unhorsed, Richard fought with his usual fervour, holding his own against even the dark soldiers of the Reach. Although none of the Mearcians had ever seen the Godking and they scarcely knew him, his armour left no doubt as to his importance. Spitting blood, the margrave of Alwood set his eyes on the immortal enemy of Adalmearc. "Die!"


    Facing the shadow warriors, Richard evaded one blow, avoided another, and used his shield to push the nearest foe away. He made no retaliation but simply ran forward. One of the dreaded protectors managed to cut him deeply on the sword arm, but the knight would not be deterred and continued.


    Atst, he stood before the Godking, more than a head taller than him. The great sword came swinging at such length, Richard could only evade without the reach to strike back. As soon as the de passed him by, the mace followed up, and the knight had to dodge again.


    A shadow warrior''s dagger struck him in the back. The armour held, but time had run out. Richard leapt forward, aiming a devastating blow against the Godking''s masked face.


    With speed no son of Man could hope to match, the fiend avoided the strike. He brought the pommel of his sword up, hitting Richard in the face to send him stumbling back. The mace fell down, crushing his shoulder.


    Losing his sword, the knight lowered his shield. "See you in Hel, you bastard," he spat as two shadow warriors fell upon him. Under their relentless attacks, the margrave of Alwood and hero of Adalrik died.


    ~~~~


    To the north, the developments in the battle was met with rising rm. Everything had seemed to go ording to n. The infantry had pulled the ounders into the trap, falling on their centre from both nks. The cavalry had broken their counterpart and charged into the back of the red-d ranks, leading toplete envelopment. By now, the enemy should be utterly defeated, yet still they held on.


    "I do not understand," mumbled ric.


    "I do," replied the king quietly. He reached out one hand. "My spear." Geberic ced the weapon in his hand. "It is time we fight."


    ~~~~


    The battle had raged for most of the day, and still the scales seemed to tip back and forth, promising victory to neither. The charge of the knights into the infantry had not proved decisive as assumed, yet their presence remained a strong threat that even the Godking and his fell champions could not simply remove.


    On the other hand, the Mearcian footmen could not hold much longer. The archers, having spent their arrows, charged into the middle to help the crumbling lines, but their light armour and short swords proved little aid. The Order soldiers were too spread out, had taken too many losses, and all the other advantages gained in the battle could not outweigh this. The shadow warriors turned towards this vulnerability. Once the line broke, the Mearcian army would be split in twain; the Anausa could escape the death trap and pour out to envelop their enemy in turn.


    Seventy men wearing a blue surcoat with a golden dragon rode through their own ranks. The beleaguered soldiers of the Star broke into jubnt cries as the horses stormed past and into the fray. Throwing his shattered spear aside to wield a de of sea-steel, the Dragonheart led his kingthanes forward, killing an enemy with each blow. And as the soldiers looked to see his banner where the battle was fiercest, they roared and fought with renewed strength.


    ~~~~


    A shadow warrior came against Brand. Two kingthanes stepped into his path, but their swords could not keep him back; he ignored their blows to press on and attack the king. Brand caught his strike with the shield and retaliated. Sea-steel would not be denied, and the fell creature sank to the ground.


    Another two attacked. "Wrath, rage, storm, and song!" they crowed in the ounder tongue, their yellow eyes trained on Brand''s weapon. The kingthanes surrounded their lord to defend him, but more and more of the dreaded warriors came, and even the stalwart ukos became separated from his master. Finally, towering over his soldiers, the Godking appeared.


    His eerie eyes stared from beneath his steel mask, made of the same red metal as his armour. As his champions engaged the thanes, he struck with sword and mace to im another life with every blow. Step by step, he approached the king.


    "Today, Sigvard''s line shall end," the Godking proimed in Nordspeech. He raised his weapons and struck with fearsome strength. The king leaned back, avoiding the attack to make his own in return, but he found his reach too short. As thanes and shadow warriors met each other in a whirlwind of iron, the Godking and the Dragon of Adalrik fought.


    Repeatedly, the sword and mace passed through the air with the power to kill in a single strike. While men died around him, Brand retreated, always evading.


    Taking another step back, his footing seemed to slip, and he almost stumbled. The Godking swiftly advanced, striking with both weapons. As the mace came against Brand''s head, the sword threatened his waist.


    Revealing his feint, Brand regained his footing and dropped to the ground. While the mace swung harmlessly past, his shield deflected the Godking''s sword to do the same. At the same time, his own de struck low against the nearest target.


    The sea-steel shed against the armoured boot covering the Godking''s ankle. The runes on his red steel red up as if on fire. Although dented, the armour held against Brand''s weapon. The terrible foe took another step forward, towering over the king on the ground. With a swift kick, he sent Brand on his back, all but defenceless.


    "Now die," he spoke, raising his spiked weapon. A thane threw himself in front, striking the Godking with his sword. It did nothing, and the warrior died as the mace tore through his helmet and skull.


    Pushing his body aside, the Godking once more loomed over the Dragonheart. The shadow warriors came on both sides, keeping the kingthanes at bay. Brand raised his shield, but the mace fell and tore it apart, reaching all the way to tear his stomach open. He raised his sword. The Godking struck with his own, flinging it aside. Unarmed, alone, Brand awaited death.


    A battle cry spoken in a tongue known to few made the Godking whip his head to the side. As the waning sun illuminated the mass of soldiers fighting and dying, the light became reflected in a de of Elven-forged metal raised in defiant challenge.


    Uttering a curse in a forgottennguage, the Godking turned his attention back to Brand. It was toote. A shadow warriory dead, felled by yet another sword of sea-steel in Elven hand, and the thanes had pulled the king to safety. With a frustrated yell, the Godking faced his new enemies. The desinger and the Dragonyer had joined the battle.


    ~~~~


    "The king is dead!" came the shout among the Mearcians. "The king has fallen!"


    Pressing his hand against the wound on his stomach, Brand raised his voice. "Hold," he spoke between gasps of breath.


    "My king, we must get you away!" dered one of the thanes holding Brand by the shoulder.


    "Not yet," he replied. "Help me to stand!" As they did so, he looked around. "Where is my banner? Find me a horse!"


    While ukos remained to help the king stand, others hurried to fulfil hismand. They returned with a riderless horse and Geberic, carrying the royal standard.


    With a pale face and eyescking focus, Brand''s hand fumbled to take the reins. "Help me get up," he demanded. With concerned looks, the thanes did so until Brand could sit slumped over on the horse, using its head and neck for support. "The banner," he breathed, throwing his helmet away before extending one hand while the other clutched the reins.


    As Geberic ced the standard into the king''s grasp, thetter spurred his steed towards the battle line. "Fight on!" he called out with surprising vigour. "Fight on, men, your king is with you!"


    Pressing his legs against the horse, Brand waved the golden dragon over his head. Around him, the soldiers of the Star rallied, few as they were.


    ~~~~


    The Godking let his weapons soar through the air with such fearsome power, even the mightiest of Elven warriors could not hope to withstand. Instead, Alfbrand leapt away. With speed to match the fell enemy, he avoided the mace and used his own sword to steer the Godking''s de away, never receiving a blow.


    Desperately, the shadow warriors threw themselves forward to protect their master, disregarding the attacks made from the remaining kingthanes. Yet they could not stand against Alfmod, he who slew a dragon in ancient times. Wielding the same sea-steel and renowned fury as then, he felled one dread champion after the other. None could interfere in the fated duel between desinger and Godking, meeting on the slopes of Valmark for the second time.


    Yet even as his de sang, Alfbrand could not injure his enemy. The red steel, touched by runes to withstand all blows, took barely a mark each time, and every such attack ced the desinger in mortal danger from the Godking''s ruinous weapons. The Elf moved with a grace gifted to none other, never taking any wounds, but it could notst. Fighting his second battle of the day, the hero faced exhaustion. The Godking, whether innate to his nature or empowered by arcane secrets, showed no sign of weariness. His eyes underneath his mask, no different than those of the Elf, stared with pure malice as he struck again.


    Reaching into his belt with his left hand, Alfbrand did not avoid the oing blow, but leapt forward to raise the shield swiftly. As the mace struck his ward, he smashed his own sword into the Godking''s helmet, but even here, the red steel held. The hostile de retaliated, cutting into his shoulder, while the might of the fell mace clove his shield.


    His enemy injured and within his grasp, the Godking raised both weapons to finish the fight. The Elf''s sword hung low, and his shield was broken. The dreadful foe struck with haste to rival the wind at his hated enemy, who stood too close that he might hope to evade death. The end hade.


    The desinger moved as well. Not in retreat, but forwards. As his shield fell to pieces, it revealed the dagger from his belt in his grasp. Swifter than the storm, he stabbed into the eye slit of the Godking''s mask.


    The ancient being roared in agony; he had not known pain in a thousand years and more. Weapons fell from his hands as he gripped the dagger; pulling it back, a spray of dark blood followed.


    Alfbrand did not hesitate. Despite broken arm and injured shoulder, he moved again. One hand tore the helmet from the Godking''s head, leaving it exposed. The other struck with the sword against unprotected flesh. Atst, the sea-steel drank the blood it had been forged to shed, slicing with ease. As dark liquid erupted from the neck, the head fell to the ground. Around them, the shadow warriors copsed. The Godking had fallen.


    ~~~~


    As the Order soldiers rallied to their king, the ounders yielded, breaking into a rout. Their gody dead, and the drakonian lines had held against relentless assaults. Twilight covered the bloody field, where thousands upon thousands of Mearciansy dead, and most of the remainder had been near breaking point; a few more arrows striking their mark, spearssting another blow before shattering, reinforcements arriving a moment sooner, and the fray might not have favoured the Mearcians. But it did. The battle of Valmark, the second ever fought upon those foothills, hade to an end, bringing victory to Adalmearc.

 Chapter 226: The Lands of Men

    Chapter 226: The Lands of Men


    With scarcely any soldiers left in the city, the southern walls were garrisoned as much by members of the clergy as any Order soldiers. A rider, entering Middanhal to bring news of the battle, found two Temrs guarding the gate. Beyond, a devastating sight with hundreds upon hundreds of corpses met his eyes; most of them wore robes of various colours. As he rode up the Arnsweg to pass the bridge, the scenery repeated itself.


    Yet he did not forget his task. "Victory!" he shouted, riding slowly that the sound of hooves against the paved streets would not drown out his voice. "The king is victorious!" Windows flew open. Heads appeared in doorways. To the citizens of Middanhal, who had feared the end of times had begun with holy men and women being ughtered in the streets, the news seemed unfathomable. Yet still, the rider continued to spread the word. "The enemy is in flight! We won!"


    ~~~~


    Most of the army remained outside the wall; some chased the fleeing ounders to inflict further casualties, while others began the monumental task of dealing with the dead. Those that returned to the city were primarily the wounded, though the king and his thanes rode at the head of the procession. His wound had been bandaged and his sword recovered from the field, hanging by his waist; Geberic rode next to him, holding the banner of the golden dragon high.


    Seeing his return, the people flocked to the streets in exuberant spirits. Cries resounded to proim his splendour and his subjects'' gratitude. Mothers wept holding their children, and strangers embraced each other.


    The king''s expression stood in stark contrast. The knights at the gate had given a hurried exnation of the missing garrison and their own presence. Riding through the streets, pools of blood could be seen, and some bodies had yet to be removed. Paying little heed to the adoring crowds, Brand continued straight to the Citadel.


    ~~~~


    A simr sight awaited the returning king and his men, once the gate was opened for them. Blood and bodiesy scattered around the courtyard, and only a handful of men held watch. With a grim demeanour, Brand looked around as he dismounted. No stable hand came to take the reins of his horse; most of the castle''s inhabitants remained in hiding.


    He nced over his thanes. "You four," he spoke, pointing to those who looked least injured, "find my family. Make sure they are safe," the kingmanded, and the warriors hurried inside.


    A crate stood against the wall, and Brand used it as a seat. While surveying the courtyard, he pressed one hand against his stomach where the Godking''s mace had torn into his flesh.


    "Find the physician," ric told another thane.


    "No," Brand said swiftly. "He must have many other patients in worse condition. Do not tear him from his work."


    "But my king, your wound?"


    "Has been seen to. It is not my body but my mind that is uneasy," Brand replied.


    "How so? Any way I might serve?"


    "I did not expect to return from battle on the field and find my home in the same state. If you wish to serve, get me news of those in the royal wing."


    "Of course, my king." ric left swiftly, following the same path as the others sent on the same errand.


    "You," Brand called out and pointed at an Order soldier hauling a body. "Come here."


    Dropping the arms of the corpse, he did so and approached Brand with a bowed head. "Yes, my king."


    "Who died here? My sister? Thedy of Alczar?"


    "I cannot say," the soldier admitted with a stammer. "I have not heard so."


    "What of Ingmond? Has he been taken prisoner?"


    "He''s dead, my king. He fell by the gate, I was told. By his own hand, even."


    "The only thing he did right," Brand mumbled. "Any patrols in the city?"


    "I don''t think so, my king. Any soldiers that could be spared from the Citadel went to Saltgate," came the reply. "So unless they''re patrolling, there''s no soldiers from here doing it."


    "Where is the captain? Find me Sir Theobald."


    "Forgive me, but he is dead."


    Brand exhaled. "Any other knights in the castle?"


    "Not that I know. The Temrs were here, of course, but they all left again."


    "Fine. Resume your duties."


    "Yes, my king."


    Time passed. The thanes took care of the horses and helped the soldiers deal with the fallen. A strange sense of normality settled onto the courtyard as the men busied themselves with tasks, even as the signs of deathy all around.


    ric returned as the first. "None have been harmed, my king. Your thanes barricaded the royal quarters and kept them out. Your sister and attendants are on their way."


    "Good," Brand mumbled, extending one hand. "Help me to stand." On his feet again, he looked around. "Find someone to bear message," he continued. "One to Woolgate. Tell them to keep the gate shut until I say otherwise and scrape enough men together for a patrol. They are to arrest everyone at Jarl Ingmond''s home and bring them to the dungeons."


    "Yes, my king."


    "Send another to the army dealing with the dead. Tell them it has to wait until tomorrow. Instead, they must garrison the southern walls and send patrols through Lowtown." As he spoke, Brand walked a few paces to drink from a barrel of rainwater.


    "At once."


    "Brand!" The outburst came from Arndis as she and other nobles entered the courtyard. She approached her brother, giving him a tight embrace, which he returned. "You are victorious! Of course, none doubted you would be."


    Releasing her from his grasp, Brand nced at the bloody courtyard. "Yet I was blind in other matters. I am relieved you did not pay the price." His eyes continued, reaching the courtiers crowding the entrance to the inner castle. Jana was among them, and she took a step forward until arresting herself, cing one hand inside the other.


    As the court watched, Brand approached to show her the same affection as his sister. Hesitantly, Jana returned the embrace briefly before pulling back. "We are all relieved to see Your Majesty returned to us."


    "You should rest," Arndis added, walking over to stand by him. "Your face is pale."


    "I will soon enough. I have somewhere to be first."


    "Brand," Jana protested, "I can see you have been wounded. You must rest."


    "In due time." He turned to ric. "Find me a horse with the remaining strength to carry me."


    "Yes, my king."


    "Where are you going?" asked Arndis.


    "To the Temple."


    ~~~~


    While the city slowly turned to celebration, the Temple knew only grief. Hundreds and hundreds of priests and priestessesy dead. In all the years since its foundation, the holy site had never known such disaster. On the Temple square itself, the robed corpses had been gathered for now, all of their colours stained red. Their presence subdued the mood at that location in an otherwise jubnt city.


    Even the still living servants of the Temple had left the ce. The norns had not participated in the fight, as their oaths forbade them from causing harm, but their skills in healing were greatly needed in many ces. As for the Temrs, they remained scattered in the city, aiding the weakened garrison.


    As a result, the greatplex seemed almost deserted. Only the very young and very old had stayed behind, most of them in their cells praying feverishly. As the king entered the Hall of Holies with his guards, he found it empty.


    "Tell the highfather I request his presence," Brandmanded a thane. Continuing through the great chamber, he looked at the statues of the gods and goddesses to his left and right. Hewn from marble, they looked as they always did, untouched by the chaos and destruction that had unfolded both within and outside the city. "Imagine if we had lost," he muttered to himself. "The ounders would have destroyed everything in here."


    The king crossed the entirety of the hall until he stood before the altar at the far end opposite the entrance. A pair of hands rose from the hewn stone and stretched out towards the sky. Behind, the wall showed Rihimil''s victory against the ck Serpent. Brand stared at the imagery before he finally knelt before the altar. "Thank you," he whispered with closed eyes and his brow touching the edge of the stone, "that I live. That my city lives. I shall never doubt your goodness towards me."


    He got back on his feet, taking a few deep breaths. A kingthane offered him a waterskin, and he ked his thirst. Time passed in silence; the guards kept their eyes on the great doors, beyond which rising noise could be heard from the crowds outside. "We best leave through a smaller passage, my king," one of them remarked to Brand. "And soon."


    "I''ll bring our horses to the side door," another thane suggested and left, once his master had indicated agreement.


    On silent steps, the highfather appeared along with the high priest of the ckrobes and a Temr. "You sent for me, my king."


    Brand bowed his head in respect. "I did, Holy One." He removed the scabbard from his belt and presented the sword with both hands to the old priest. "I have no further im upon this sword."


    Septimus gave him a scrutinising look. "If you are certain your need is done."


    Brand extended his hands. "It was made for a war that has ended."


    The highfather epted the sheath and nodded. "A wise choice, my king."


    "I shall be d if I never have cause to wield a sword again."


    "I will pray to that end."


    "Thank you, Holy One. I take my leave."


    "May next we meet be on the steps of the Temple," Septimus said.


    Brand inclined his head once more. "Once the realms know peace, we shall."


    ~~~~


    Two travellers moved north. How they had left the city when the gate was closed, few could know. They wore bandages around their arms and legs, coloured brown by blood. Each hauled a sack and walked at a slow pace, often resting. It was barely dark before they went to sleep, and the sun had been up for hours before either woke. With the same weary steps as the day before, the two Elves continued until they reached the Alfskog and their kin, leaving thends of Men behind.

 Chapter 227: Cold Comfort

    Chapter 227: Cold Comfort


    South-west of Middanhal, beyond where the Mihtea reappeared from beneath the mountains to flow further in that direction, two men stood by a solitary tree. In the distant, flocks of cattle could be seen, but they were not herders of any kind. They sent looks in every direction, constantly scouting for anything other than cows. Their ordinary clothing and appearance suggested them to be from Hthiod; even their boots were of ordinary brown colour rather than ck.


    At length, two men appeared from the north, where the mountainsy. One appeared the same as the others; the second man was harder to describe, walking with a staff. As the two parties noticed each other, three of them hurried towards each other; only the wanderer continued at his usual pace determined by the staff in his hand.


    Once Dariush reached Kamran and Arman, the three ckboots embraced tightly,ughing all the while. "You live," Kamran eximed. "We thought the drnders had killed you."


    Dariush shook his head. "Javed kept me hidden after I had warned him of the assault. I watched the battle from the mountains  never have I felt such dread, nor such relief! Is it really true? Javed told me, but still I cannot believe it."


    The other men nodded. "He fell to a de of Ruin. Arman saw it with his own eyes."


    Thest mentioned ckboot spat. "And may his body rot while his spirit burns in his precious fire."


    Dariush exhaled. "The morrow hase. A thousand times we said those words in a hundred generations." Heughed.


    Godfrey reached them, wearing the same expression. The others crowded around him, grabbing his shoulders and arms in exuberance. "You did it," Kamran said. "You ended his reign as you promised."


    "I did my part, as did you," the wanderer replied. "The drnders will never know nor understand the dangers you faced, the courage you showed, aiding them from within. There would have been no victory without all your work to undermine our enemy."


    "While it is hard to ce reins on our joy, there is something you should know," Kamran spoke, and the mirth dwindled from his face. "Our work may not be done yet."


    Godfrey frowned. "How so?"


    The ckboot hesitated, giving the other men a look. "Last night, the Servant of the me anointed Jenaab Sikandar and dered him the Godking incarnate."


    "Preposterous," Godfrey burst out. "He is nothing but a man."


    "The soldiers do not know the same as us. Rumours run wild through the camp, and with the shock of defeat, many of them struggle to understand. Only a few actually saw the Godking die, and they have quickly been silenced. The rest cling to aforting lie."


    "And Sikandar uses this to seize power," the wanderer considered. "With the help of the priesthood, who otherwise would lose all of theirs."


    "If this charade seeds, nothing will change," Arman pointed out. "The sacrifices will continue. We will have exchanged one tyrant for another."


    "I assumed they would fall apart with the death of their god." Godfrey scratched his cheek. "If the other Servants are as wily, we may yet have work to do."


    The three ckboots looked at him. "What can we do?"


    Godfrey exhaled. "We''ll need help."


    ~~~~


    In Middanhal, morning found a city in a strange mood. Revelry born of the great victory had mingled with grief at bloodshed in the streets, and the two emotions had been in conflict throughout the night with people celebrating and mourning side by side. As night passed, feelings subsided<em>; the outbursts and cries, whether born of joy or sorrow, grew hoarse.</em>


    No such ambivalence could be felt in the lower levels of the Citadel. The dungeons had only despair and people imprisoned on suspicion of treason; the other great room held corpses. In the vaulted Hall of the Honoured Dead, hundreds of bodiesy on countlessrge bs where the cold might dy putrefaction. They represented only a small number of the fallen; pyres had been used for the rest. Yet all of noble birth and many Order soldiers had been hauled through the city to be ced here for the time being. Soon, the norns would appear to wash the dead and prepare them for burial, whether that would be here or in ancestral homes further away.


    Still busy tending to the wounded, whose needs took precedence over those of the dead, the red-robed priestesses had yet to arrive for this task. Only one living soul could be found in the hall; his guards remained outside. He stood in one end, where a raised b held those deemed of particr significance. At the king''s instructions, only one body had been ced here.


    Soft footfall announced the presence of another, making her way through the hewn stones to reach Brand. He turned his head briefly before staring once more at the corpse. "Who told on me?"


    "Sandar thought you might needpany," Jana admitted.


    "I should have him flogged."


    "Undoubtedly." She moved to stand next to him and look upon the face of the fallen. "Someone you knew, I take it?"


    "Sir Richard of Alwood."


    "Who was he?"


    "A margrave, though his holdings are of little note. But he was also among the foremost knights of the realm." Brand swallowed. "And he was my friend."


    "I am sorry for your loss." She ced her hand to grasp his arm.


    "I first met him right after an attack. We were betrayed, in disarray. Yet he trusted me without reservation, gave me my firstmand, and listened to me in all things. More than that, he was steadfast in his friendship, defying all the nobles of Adalrik rather than denounce me." Brand let out his breath slowly. "Now he is dead, carrying out mymands."


    "You did not bring this war here," Jana gently said. "Nor do I think he went to his fate unwillingly. He died defending his home. Do not diminish his honour by iming responsibility for his death."


    Brand tensed up for a moment before rxing. "You are right," he conceded. "But it brings me littlefort. I did not truly appreciate his loyalty, his friendship to me. Now it is toote."


    "There are no words to dull the grief you feel," Jana admitted. "I carry my own wound in my heart, and time seems the slowest of healers." She let her head rest on his shoulder. "But you are honouring his memory, and that is all you can do."


    "I suppose." He sighed. "But it does not end with him, I fear. The battle is won, but the war is not."


    "Alczar," Jana breathed, raising her head.


    "I dread to think how many soldiers must die in that battle."


    "As in Thusund, I will soon be thought of as your enemy," she considered.


    He turned to look at her. "I will not allow any to threaten you."


    She smiled weakly. "There are not only sharp daggers to fear, but also sharper tongues. You can ill afford any disloyalty, Brand. One jarl alone nearly cost you everything."


    Anger crossed his face before subsiding to be reced by concern. "I wish I knew what to do. There is so much to consider."


    "For now, you should leave this hall. This cold will be the death of you, and certainly me."


    Brand cast a final look at Sir Richard''s pale face. "Very well. Let us take our leave."


    ~~~~


    Returning to his chambers, the king found his dragonlord waiting for him, who immediately rose. "I thought I was an early riser," the jarl jested.


    "A lifetime spent in the Order or on campaign will cure all tendencies to sleep past sunrise," Brand replied, gesturing for a servant to pour him something to drink. "You have something to report?"


    "We have apprehended everyone still at Ingmond''s home. Mostly servants and a few thanes. I doubt they have much to say of interest," Theodoric admitted. "Though I spoke to Valeriantest night."


    "And?"


    "Apparently, the alderman was deeply involved in this plot. Which exins why he was at the Citadel yesterday, and why he is dead. I have already had the guards seize everyone and everything of interest at the guild hall. I dare say we stand a better chance of rooting out more traitors through that than with Ingmond."


    "The alderman?" Brand frowned as he sat down, cup in hand. "That simpering fool?"


    "A mask, it seems. Regardless, I will get to the truth of it."


    "I expect as much. We were caught unawares, my lord jarl," the king spoke with a chill in his voice. "Mercenaries in our own city, meant to protect us, yet used against us. Added to that, I am not surprised that Ingmond turned traitor, merely that it went unnoticed."


    Theodoric swallowed, bowing his head. "I shall increase all my efforts."


    "See that you do if you wish to retain your position."


    "What of his jarldom? Given my king''s poprity with this victory, I am sure the Adalthing will consent that Ingmond be given to a new house, whomever my king so chooses."


    "I will consider whom to elevate. For now, send a trustworthy reeve to act on my behalf as jarl until a new is chosen."


    "Yes, my king. As for the old House of Ingmond? Those few that remain."


    "Banish them all," Brand dered, his voice turning cold once more. "They are tainted by treachery."


    The dragonlord bowed his head in obedience.


    ~~~~


    Eating breakfast in their chambers, Arndis and Eleanor seemed subdued as well. While most of the city had been untouched by strife and thus found it easier to celebrate, the castle had known battle in its very halls and corridors. It did not spill into the royal wing itself, as the remaining kingthanes had built a hasty barricade to keep the enemy out; yet anxious hours had been spent, hearing the sounds of fighting from elsewhere, and in the most dreadful of moments, axes hacking at the barricade to break through. The arrival of the Temrs had ended the threat, but its spectre still haunted the inhabitants.


    Eleanor cut a pear into pieces. "I still cannot fathom that the alderman was a traitor," she finally said, taking a piece of fruit. "All the times he came to see you."


    "Perhaps we should not linger on this subject," Arndis told her. "I see no need to discuss him any further."


    "But all your shared investments into his trade," the other woman continued. "The guilds must be in turmoil."


    "Yes, Eleanor, I will deal with it in my own time. For now, I would appreciate if you did not mention the alderman again."


    "Of course," she mumbled.


    "If anything, this affair with Jarl Ingmond proves what I told my brother. The pressing matter now is gaining more allies, strengthening our position."


    "You are still to wed Athelstan, are you not? That will secure Isarn for you."


    "It will, but it is not enough. That leaves two jarls whose loyalty could be questioned."


    "Surely not Jarl Theodstan? He serves as the dragonlord."


    "Any man who seeks the power of such high office will always have ambition for more. Not to mention, the vassal kings are not reliable. Vidrevi sent us no aid while the enemy besieged our very home," Arndis pointed out with a hint of anger.


    "They ought to be ashamed of themselves," Eleanor assented.


    "The queen of Thusund is an obvious match for my brother. Their ships rule the sea, and with the threat from Alczar, they will be needed. With the immediate danger from the ounders defeated, it is time for Brand to see reason in this regard."


    "Yet Alczar is why he will not." The Hthiandy dipped her bread in olive oil. "He has only eyes for the princess of that city. The whole castle knows."


    Arndis'' fingers fiddled with the stem of her cup. "Perhaps we need to give them something else to talk about."


    ~~~~


    The lord marshal entered the king''s study, inclining his head. "I have received word from Sir Athelstan, my king."


    "Yes?" Brand looked up from the reports on his desk.


    "The ounders have retreated from their camp. He shadows them with the Order troops at his disposal, but given they still outnumber him, he intends to avoid engagement. They are moving south along the Kingsroad. Whether they will continue all the way to the Reach remains to be seen."


    "I hope to have more intelligence on that matter," Brand revealed. "I will be able toy out our strategy soon."


    "There is the question of Alczar," William said. "A messenger arrived yesterday morning, though I only learned of his message today."


    "What is it?"


    "Portesur has fallen."


    Disbelief coloured the king''s face. "Last we heard, the southerners hadnded a few thousand men. That was a few months ago at most. How did the city fall?"


    "I know little more at present," the knight admitted. "The southrons had siege machinery of unprecedented strength, and their current numbers are estimated around fifteen thousand."


    "In itself not a formidable force, but with Portesur in their hands, they will have anchorage for their entire fleet. They will move even more troops from the South now."


    "And they may have added more ships to their fleet," William considered. "We do not know whaty in the harbour of Portesur when it fell."


    "Even if Thusund still has more ships, we cannot be certain they have the warriors to fill them all and wrest control of the sea back." Brand scratched his stubbles. "The southerners can pige the coast and move against Herbergja. If they seize that as well, we will be all but severed from Thusund."


    "And dislodging Alczar will be difficult. Whoever rules the sea, rules Herbergja."


    Brand took a deep breath. "We still outnumber them onnd. If we act swiftly, we will crush them before they can take any more cities."


    "It will take time to march our armies to Ealond, but they cannot hope to take Herbergja before our arrival," William dered.


    "Gather our avablemanders this afternoon," Brand told him. "We will make our ns once I know the intentions of the ounders."


    "Yes, my king."


    ~~~~


    The king was eating a simple meal, mostly bread and boiled vegetables, when Godfrey entered. "There you are," Brand said. "What have you heard from the ounder camp?"


    "News to trouble us."


    A line furrowed the king''s brow. "They will not retreat?"


    "Oh, they will. I imagine they will not stop until they are beyond the Langstan."


    "Then I see nothing to concern us. Their invasion is defeated."


    "Their haste is driven by the new Godking and his need to consolidate his power, I expect." Godfrey''s grave expression stood in contrast to Brand''s look of confusion.


    "What do you mean?"


    "Theirmander, Sikandar, has imed the mantle. While not nearly as formidable a foe, if he has support of both the army and the priesthood, he will face no opposition."


    The king shrugged. "So? If he leaves ournds, he may do as he pleases."


    "This does not mean an end to war as I had hoped," the wanderer retorted. "Adalmearc killed their god. The priests will not forget this."


    "You fear their revenge? I would imagine they have their hands full."


    "Yet to maintain power, what better way than to give their people an enemy to hate? Every sacrifice, every act of oppression will be justified in this manner. They will paint Adalmearc as the imminent threat, and they will resume hostilities. They must in order to justify their harsh rule."


    "Even if that is the case, we have dealt them a severe defeat. If you look south, the columns of smoke can be seen even from here, burning the piles of their dead."


    "True, you may have peace for now. But you dy the issue, leaving it for your son to deal with. Or his son. Adalmearc will never know peace with the Reach until the priests are removed."


    Brand stared at his visitor, raising his hands. "What exactly do you expect? That I invade the Reach to the east while another enemy takes my cities to the west?"


    "You have one opportunity to solve this," Godfrey warned him. "Previous rulers thought as you did, and the ounders always returned. This will also allow you to fulfil your promise to the dvalinn. I will remind you that the Dwarves held a precarious position during the battle, defending your nk while outnumbered."


    "This is preposterous," Brand objected. "My people are exhausted from battles, and I already have one war to win against Alczar. The ounders are in flight. I cannot justify renewing the war against them. How many years of siege would it take to conquer the Reach? Meanwhile, Alczar overruns Ealond."


    "It would take months, not years," Godfrey imed. "You will have all the needed intelligence. Cities, garrisons, troops, routes with freshwater. The ounders are wounded and demoralised. Now is the time to strike."


    "Even with all these advantages, how many cities must I besiege? How many assaults must be ordered? I will have barely any soldiers left to fight Alczar."


    Godfrey shook his head. "You need only take one city. Sikandar will retreat to the mountain of the Godking. He will consider it safe and use its prestige to further support his im to power."


    "A mountain? That does not sound easy to conquer."


    "I have the key. Your forces will take it in a day with barely any casualties."


    Brand gave him a long look. "What is it? A traitor? A hidden passage past the defences?"


    Godfrey smiled. "You will not believe me unless you see it. But I promise, once you see, you will understand everything."


    "How? You will have to exin better."


    "A power dwells, ready at yourmand, my king. But we must undertake a journey for a few days, and no others cane with us."


    Brandughed with an edge in his voice. "If you think my thanes will allow that, or the court will not raise questions, you are not as wise as I once thought."


    "Bring ukos," the wanderer conceded. "He knows to keep quiet. Brand," he continued, "even Sigvard could not end the threat from the Reach. I promise you this. You will be the greatest ruler thesends have ever known."


    "Your ttery bes more and more primitive," Brand retorted.


    "Granted. But can you resist?"


    The king exhaled a deep breath. "I will consider it. Leave me to think and finish my meal." As Godfrey bowed his head and left, Brand returned his attention to his cold vegetables.

 Chapter 228: Once More to Part

    Chapter 228: Once More to Part


    The battle against the ounders had left its mark on themanders assembled for council. Theobald and Richard had perished; Athelstan remained with the army, leading it in the king''s absence. Alois, the duke of Belvoir, and William, lord marshal, remained as the only revenants. Two new faces met the king instead as he arrived. Ewind, newly made marshal of Hthiod, who had been guarding the walls at thest meeting. The other man was Fionn.


    Disbelief coloured Brand''s face, and he advanced quickly to sp the knight''s arm. "I was told of your demise."


    "An exaggeration," the hignder knightughed. "Those red-robed bastards took me prisoner after the fight at Lake Myr. My chains were unfastenedst night in the confusion after the battle, and I slipped away."


    "Fortunate. I have need of a new captain for the city guard."


    Fionn bowed his head. "I serve at my king''s pleasure."


    "For now, be seated." Brand took his ce, and the other men followed suit. "Although the imminent danger has passed, we remain at war. On two fronts." The assembled captains watched him with anticipation. Taking a deep breath, gathering one hand within the other, the king continued. "While the ounders are in flight, they are not defeated. I intend to lead our armies in person and ensure they are broken, never to rise against us again."


    "My men fought to defend Middanhal in order to see Ealond liberated," the duke of Belvoir spoke slowly. "If all your troops march east, ournds will lie undefended."


    Brand raised one hand in a disarming gesture. "Not all. I will not forget the danger on our left hand. A missive will be sent to Fontaine today, giving the marshal of Ealond my full authority to raise all levies of the realm. Furthermore, they shall be ced under yourmand, my lord duke, and you may lead the defence of Ealond as you see fit."


    Alois sat with an indeterminable expression. "There are fewer troops in Ealond than I should like, given our recent strife, but I will not discard this gift."


    "We also have forces in Korndale no longer separated from us," Brand added. "While the Order troops shall join us for our campaign, their levies will be sent to you. That should keep Alczar at bay if nothing else until our return."


    "That may take years," William cautioned. "To defeat the Reach, of which we know so little, could take many lengthy sieges."


    "It might," Brand admitted, "but I will not leave this enemy to regain his strength and strike back. Adalmearc has never faced such danger as it did only yesterday. Relief at our victory should not overshadow this fact."


    "I am only envious," Fionn said, "for if I am captain of the Citadel, I suspect I will be left behind."


    "I should leave immediately," Ewind interjected. "There are troops to gather in Hthiod, and the ounders still hold Lakon. That must be our first target."


    "Do so. Sir William, send missives to the marshals of Ealond and Korndale," the king bade him. He looked at each of themanders. "We gather our full strength, and we finish this. In victory."


    "Victory!"


    ~~~~


    Returning to his chambers, he found Godfrey waiting under the watchful gaze of a kingthane. With a nod, Brand dismissed the guard and turned to his visitor. "You have your wish. I will lead the Order myself to defeat this Sikandar."


    Godfrey exhaled, and a smile spread across his face as he stood up. "Most excellent. I will let the dvalinn know that your promise is kept, and you may rely on his aid. As for the key I promised you."


    "Yes?"


    "We should leave tomorrow morning before dawn. If we make haste, we will return in the eve the following day."


    Brand shot him a look. "You understand how strange this sounds?"


    Godfreyughed. "Believe me, the truth is wilder than your current spections. But have I ever led you astray?"


    "Constantly, I feel," the king grumbled, "but I have not forgotten your help either. As I have already decided to pursue this, I will trust you for another mile."


    "See you tomorrow, before dawn."


    ~~~~


    The king''s decision quickly spread through the castle. Even with most of the army already outside the city, countless preparations were needed. Shadowing the ounders until the Langstan required little nning; with summer approaching, provisions would be avable throughout the Mearciannds for their armies. Invading the Reach, however, required supply lines to be set up that could stretch into enemy territory. Beyond that, the knowledge that the king would lead the invasion in person provided ample material for conversation among the courtiers; his absence in theing months, if not years, gave grounds for rampant spection that many were eager to feed.


    ~~~~


    "I have heard you intend a return to the Reach," Arndis said. "Most assumed you would turn your attention to Alczar with the ounders in flight."


    Seated in his study, Brand looked up from the lists of soldiers in front of him. "I will not allow them to remain a threat. Does it matter? The war will no longer touch Adalrik either way."


    "I onlye bearing a proposal, dear brother."


    "Which is?"


    "While you lead your armies east, let me negotiate with Alczar and their Prince Saif. With the ounders broken, our position is stronger. A truce may be reached, sparing us further bloodshed."


    Brand leaned back in his seat, scratching his face. "They will know our armies are divided if their spies have any worth. I doubt they will be keen to discuss peace."


    "Even so, just the mere act of negotiation could win us days. If I have learned anything from this recent siege, it is the importance of time."


    "You may have a point. Certainly, nothing can be lost," Brand conceded. "But why you? I would not have thought you wishing to travel for weeks towards war-tornnds."


    "I am your sister. Short of the king himself, you may send no higher envoy. Anyone of lower standing might be dismissed or denied audience," Arndis argued.


    "Very well. I assume they will respect you as my emissary, but I will send twenty kingthanes for your protection. When would you leave?"


    "Tomorrow morning," she dered. "All our intelligence from Ealond is dyed by weeks of travel. The sooner I arrive to get they of thend, the sooner I can begin to stall and buy time."


    Brand sent her a scrutinising look. "I appreciate this thought, Sister. I am not ungrateful that you would undertake this journey for my sake."


    She inclined her head with a wry smile. "We all serve how we can."


    "While I cannot abide any peace treaty that gives Alczar one inch ofnd, I am not opposed to ending the war through payments of coin. And if they insist on fighting, any day you might gain will be useful." Brand took an empty piece of parchment and his quill. "You shall have a letter bearing my seal and authority to aid you in this endeavour. I will send it to your chambers once it is ready."


    "Good. If I do not see you before my departure tomorrow, I pray that all the gods bless you with fortune in your war."


    He gave her a weary smile. "Thank you. Safe travels, Sister. These negotiations are not worth the loss of you."


    "Do not worry about me." She mirrored his expression and left.


    ~~~~


    Godfrey crossed the north-western district of Middanhal, moving past the workshops supplying both Citadel and city. Closer to the centre, both Men and Dwarves worked the anvils, tanneries, and other crafts; going further west, only thetter could be found. Godfrey continued until he stood before the home of the dvalinn and knocked on the door.


    "Yes?" The servant gave Godfrey a nce. "Oh, it''s you." He stepped aside to let the traveller enter.


    "Much obliged."


    "I''ll tell the dvalinn you wish to see him."


    As the servant disappeared, Godfrey sat down in a chair. His eyes wandered idly over the runed carvings that ornamented the parlour, suggesting either familiarity or indifference to the craftsmanship and the stories they told.


    "He will see you."


    Godfrey gave a quick nod, rose, and made his way to the dvalinn''s chambers. He found the Dwarf eating a meal of bread and vegetables. "I wondered when you might appear on my doorstep. My people have buried their dead. Now they wonder at the promises made to them."


    "They can cease wondering. The king will march his armies to the Reach."


    Ivaldi stopped eating and folded his hands in front of him. Finally, he looked at Godfrey. "Truly?"


    "Yes. Dvarheim of old awaits."


    The Dwarf-lord exhaled. "I did not believe it in earnest."


    "Time is scarce. The king marches soon, and this campaign will not be long."


    "The others will not have time to join us, you mean. House Starkstone must carry the burden."


    Godfrey conceded this by bowing his head. "The choice is yours."


    "No," Ivaldi muttered, "it is no choice at all. Not to my people, and though I may be their dvalinn, even I must bow to their will. The halls of Dvarheim await."


    ~~~~


    Thest rays of the sun struggled to illuminate the orchard in the Citadel. As the evening cold crept in, it drove most courtiers inside. A pair of noblewomen proved an exception, braving the chill. As they strolled around the garden, they attracted the attention of the few others present, but none interrupted their conversation, given they enjoyed the king''s favour and high standing at court.


    "Thank you for attending me," Arndis said. "I know the cold does not suit you."


    "I have grown ustomed," Jana replied. "I am surprised that Eleanor has not joined us."


    "I had something to discuss with you alone," the other woman admitted. "I require your advice."


    "How may I help?"


    "Tomorrow morning, I travel to Ealond to discuss peace terms with Prince Saif. He is your brother, I take it?"


    "Half-brother, yes."


    "I would appreciate any insight you might offer. While I have done my share of negotiations with drakonian merchants, a prince of Alczar is another matter."


    "I knew him best when we were children," Jana rted. "He is much different now. You must understand, he has spent his life inpetition with his brothers to prove himself the worthiest heir. He will not be inclined to peace unless it grants some manner of victory. If he returns with anything less, our father will disown him."


    "That is exactly what is useful to know," Arndis smiled, taking the other woman''s arm as they walked around the orchard. "I will be sure to tell everyone how you have helped me. That should ay some of the rumours working their way around the Citadel."


    The silencested a few moments before Jana finally asked. "Rumours?"


    "I suppose that is not the best word for it. You see, my brother received word that Alczar has invaded to avenge the scorn done to them when their king''s daughter was stolen and brought here."


    "The Kabir," Jana said in correction. "But I went willingly."


    "Of course you did. It is a mere pretext for war. I have told as much to everyone who would listen. Your father''s armies plunder ournds seeking conquest, not some wayward daughter." Arndis allowed a briefughter to surface. "s, the theft of a princess is the more alluring tale. And since I will leave tomorrow, I shall not be present to dispel this notion any further."


    "Do people me Brand?" Jana asked with concern.


    "Not directly. His stay in Alczar is notmon knowledge. To most courtiers, he was simply in exile until his return. I think they assume you have been given refuge by a gracious king, though eventually, the truth may be revealed," Arndis considered. "Several of his followers know that he fled the city with you. Too many that it can be kept a secret."


    "How will they react, do you think?"


    "Some will use it to me my brother, if they have not already done so. use him of causing war with Alczar by shielding you here, even if they do not know the truth of his involvement. They will not say so openly, of course, not while his victory is fresh in memory. There will be whispers in corners and quiet talks around tables," Arndis exined. "A king will always have enemies, and they will exploit every possible vulnerability to weaken him. But he is strong. I do not fear those who will use him." She gave Jana''s arm a light squeeze.


    "But they will me me for this war."


    "I have done my best tobat this notion, but I fear so. With Brand on campaign and me in Ealond, you may find the halls of this court colder than the orchard."


    "So be it," Jana spoke softly. "I do not fear solitude."


    "You are brave, as befits your high birth," Arndis told her. "Though I have just had a thought! Something may be done."


    "What would that be?"


    Arndis stopped walking to look at thedy of Alczar. "Come with me! Eleanor ising as well, and Gwen. You can advise me as you have done today. If nothing else, your presence is sure to rattle Prince Saif and his men, proving that you are here of your own volition."


    "I am unsure." Jana''s voice expressed the doubt written on her face. "I have never participated in such negotiations before."


    "The burden is on me, do not worry. Besides, if you are gone from court, there will be little attention upon you. Once we are back, I can tell everyone of the aid you lent me and thereby the king, working towards peace. None can fault you for anything once I tell that story upon our return."


    "I do see the merit of your proposal," Jana admitted. "I suppose with Brand gone, I have little reason to stay at court."


    "Indeed." Arndis smiled, took the other woman''s arm once more, and resumed walking.


    "I will have to tell him. I am his guest, after all, I cannot simply leave. And if this journey is intended to be on his behalf, he should sanction it."


    "I suppose. I leave that part to you. I doubt he could refuse you anything."


    ~~~~


    Three ckboots sat inside a cave underneath Valmark. Some miles south, the Mihtea flowed west towards the sea. The ounders kept to the opening, where sunlight waned; behind them, darkness stretched into the depths of the mountain.


    As Godfrey appeared from within the cave itself, he cleared his throat to make his presence known. Arman, who had kept watch by the entrance, turned and quickly roused the others. "Javed is back."


    Blinking and rubbing their eyes, Kamran and Dariush rose with yawns. "What news?"


    "The drnders will help," Godfrey told them, eliciting sighs of relief. "An army shall march all the way to the sacred mountain."


    "Good," Kamran eximed. "What do you require of us?"


    "Dariush will travel with me and the drnders," the wanderer dered. "You are still a deserter in the eyes of your own." He turned his eyes towards the other two ckboots. "If you return to the army now, will your excuses be epted?"


    "I believe so," Kamran replied while Arman nodded. "We simply say we were scouting on the day of the battle, and enemy patrols slowed our return. Given the defeat, that is believable."


    "Good. Sikandar still has a sizeable force at his disposal, and more troops might await him at home. The drnders will need all help," Godfrey considered.


    "We leave at once," Kamran decided, looking at hispatriot. "Best we move through the night anyway until we reach our own." They sped hands with Godfrey and Dariush. "Till the morrowes," he spoke, "for all our people."


    ~~~~


    "A moment of your time?"


    Brand looked out the window of his study. The sun had already set. "Of course, though I will sleep soon. I must wake early tomorrow."


    "I shall be swift." Despite her stated intention, Jana hesitated before she spoke again. "I know your sister travels to negotiate peace with Alczar."


    "Buying time, at least." One hand supporting his chin, he gave her a pensive look. "What of it?"


    "I wish to join her."


    He blinked, sitting up straight. "Why? Nothing but war awaits you in Ealond."


    "I know Saif, my father, and what they want. How they think. I believe my advice will help Arndis."


    Suspicion crept over his face. "Is this her idea? The two of you must have spoken since you know of her errand." When she gave no immediate reply, he sighed. "I cannot say why she would suggest this, but my sister keeps her own counsel. She does not desire your advice."


    "I suspect she fears I may be a liability at court. That me for the war against Alczar will fall upon me and thereby you, undermining your support. Removing me from sight would make people less inclined to talk of me."


    "That exins her motive, but not yours. Why would you care? You are under my protection."


    "Which has its limits," Jana argued, looking pained. "What transpired in the city while you fought on the field is clear proof of that. I may very well be the burden that Arndis fears. But if I can help negotiate peace, perhaps your people will not think so ill of me."


    He rose to stand, ncing out the window. "I do not like this. Finally, we are safe, and you would leave me." He turned his head back to look at her. "It seems an ill omen."


    She gave half a smile. "You are also leaving, not to forget. I will return long before you." Her expression grew serious. "I must do this, Brand. I cannot sit for months while you are gone, wondering if every discreet nce or whisper sent my way is hostile. If nothing else, it may tie a bond between your sister and me, giving me another ally in your absence."


    He approached her, cing his hands on her shoulders. "You leave tomorrow morning, and I will be gone even earlier. There shall be no time to bid each other farewell. It seems so sudden."


    She inclined her head to look up at him. "We shall still meet again once you return. That has not changed." She stepped forward to enter his embrace, cing her own arms around him. "We will meet again before you know it."


    He ced his cheek against her hair. "I shall hold you to that."

 Chapter 229: Dragon Wing

    Chapter 229: Dragon Wing


    Few but servants and sentinels were awake when the first departures from the Citadel began. Three men left before any others, wearing hoods and furtive nces. They moved towards the northern gate, ready to leave the city by sunrise.


    Two hours passed after dawn before the stable hands prepared a carriage along with twenty more horses. Servants hauled luggage outside and loaded it up while kingthanes issued from the castle, talking idly as they found their steeds. Finally, four women appeared. Arndis, Jana, Eleanor, and Gwen entered the carriage, a servant climbed onto the driver''s seat and took the rains, and the procession left.


    A whileter, the third departure of the day took ce. The duke of Belvoir and his attendants left swiftly. Most of his forces had been quartered throughout the city, primarily Lowtown, and they joined up as he rode down the Arnsweg, leaving the city through the southern gate.


    ~~~~


    Still in the city, the lord marshal had his own tasks requiring attention. Weeks of siege and the recent battle both outside and inside the city had left Middanhal in turmoil. Every soldier that could be spared would be needed for the invasion of the Reach, leaving the new captain of the Citadel with a scraped garrison.


    While William and Fionn discussed the defences of the city, the quartermaster of the Order was equally upied. An invasion meant the creation of long supply lines, and the provisions gathered for the siege now had to be prepared for transport; most of the army being already in the field only increased the challenge. Carts, oxen, and mules were gathered from across the city to fill the courtyards, the armouries were emptied of weapons, and the vast stores of cloth for surcoats, cloaks, tents, and more were opened. For the first time in its history, the Order would march beyond the borders of Adalmearc.


    ~~~~


    Not all soldiers wearing the Star participated in the hectic activities. In a particr tavern in Lowtown, the lieutenants of the king''s archers satfortably, drinking ale. Theymanded the best table in the room, as one of them was married to the owner''s daughter; their fame aspanions to the king and the subsequent attraction of other clientele did not hurt either, and the tavern had full tables.


    A whiterobe kept the archerspany, mming his tankard onto the table with a satisfied look. "Just what I needed," Caradoc dered. "Though Hamaring smite me if I won''t be needing another shortly!"


    "Never you fear. Any of king''s hundred heroes may drink here without paying," Nichs dered magnanimously. "Don''t tell Geberic," he hurried to add with a panicked look. "He''d abuse it."


    Laughter bellowed from the priest. "Of course not! That leaves more for me."


    "You''ve just asked the wolf to keep quiet about the chicken coop, so the fox won''t take them," Quentin grumbled. "When we get back, there''ll be nothing but empty kegs."


    "Never you fear, my ever-smiling friend," Caradoc said. "I''ll be going go the Reach with youds."


    "Won''t they miss you in that little shrine where we found you in Heohlond?" Quentin asked acerbically.


    "Another year won''t hurt," the whiterobe dered with a cid expression.


    "Why do you want to go to the Reach?" asked Nichs. "If I didn''t have to go, I''d stay for sure." He sent a longing look across the room to where his wife filled tankards from a keg.


    "I''m the first whiterobe to ever enter the Reach," replied the priest. "Now I''ll be the first to do it twice! Not to mention, they''ll be talking about the fight in the streets for years toe. And when they do, Caradoc Whitesark can say he was there, swinging his hammer." He grinned. "Besides, it wouldn''t do to deprive the soldiers of my spiritual guidance. Who knows? Maybe even your king will have need of me soon enough, like his father and mother did."


    "I''ll drink to that," Nichs proimed, and the other men raised their own mugs ordingly.


    ~~~~


    Preparations for the invasion consumed the Citadel over the next two days. Presumably, it also took all of the king''s attention, as he did not emerge from his chambers and refused to see anyone; those in need had to seek audience with the dragonlord instead. Some whispered that the king was ill, or that his injuries from the battle had taken a sudden turn for the worse, which only initiated a flurry of new rumours.


    Thus, when the king finally appeared after days of absence, it caused a stir. He did not seem inclined to offer any exnations, striding through the Citadel towards the royal wing, and the courtiers were left with only guesswork to underpin their spections.


    He went to his own chambers first, throwing his cloak aside. king his thirst, he bid a servant have a meal prepared for his return and swiftly left once more. Walking through the hallways, he chose the path that led from the royal quarters to the library tower.


    Even before he stepped inside, numerous voices reached him through the heavy door. As he opened it, the curious sight of a dozen kitchen maids met him, reading by the tables of the library hall. At the sight of the king, the voices became quiet, and a variety of expressions greeted him. Shock and fear seemed prevalent; some of the youngest girls crawled under the table.


    Looking slightly amused, Brand let his eyes wander over the gathering. Some met his gaze while others stared directly into the ground. With an aghast expression, Egil came running from the scriptorium, and he gave a deep bow. "Forgive me, my king," he rushed to say. "I''ll send them away!"


    Brand raised a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Let them read. Follow me, Master Quill."


    Egil sent a confused look towards the bedroom where until recently, the previous King''s Quill had resided. "Oh, that''s me." Gathering his wits, he followed the king as thetter entered the scriptorium, leaving the befuddled kitchen girls behind.


    "All of you, be quiet," Kate admonished them. "Not a sound."


    Brand walked along the desks and shelves of the writing hall until his eyes fell upon arge book. His hand slid across the golden letters on the cover, revealing it to be the Tome of Names for House Arnling. "I gave this to your predecessor to restore, years ago," he exined, opening the book. "I rather forgot about it with all the events happening, but it seems hepleted the task." His fingers ran over the lines as he read the names of his ancestors.


    "Master Quill was always reliable," Egil said quietly.


    Brand ran through the pages until he reached thest one bearing letters. <em>"Adalbrand, born to Arngrim of House Arnling,"</em> he read aloud. "No further names will be written," he mused. "House Arnling is gone, reced by the House of Adal."


    "Yes, my king," the young scribe mumbled.


    <em>"Dragon born to eagle wing,"</em> the king read on. "My birth words. The norn had it right." He closed the great book. "As the King''s Quill, you will record all the recent events into the annals, of course."


    "Of course."


    "I have decided you shall apany me into the Reach. Both to record the campaign urately, but also any knowledge we might learn about the ounders."


    Egil stood with open mouth for a moment before he collected himself. "As you say, my king."


    "What happened to your master?" Brand suddenly asked. "He was not so old."


    "Did they not tell you? He was imprisoned by Prince Hardmar and brutalised by his men. Poor Master Quill never recovered after that." Egil''s voice quivered.


    "I was away. They did not tell me the details, and I never asked until now." The king took a deep breath, and he seemed on the verge to continue speaking; instead, he turned away from the books and shelves, leaving the scriptorium and the library itself.

 Chapter 230: The Road East

    Chapter 230: The Road East


    On the fifth eve after the battle of Valmark, the king entered the Order camp. Travelling with only his kingthanes had allowed him to catch up to his army, still in pursuit of the ounders; reinforcements and the supply train from Middanhal were some days behind. Every soldier turned his head, seeing the men with a golden dragon on their surcoats riding past, until thepany reached the centre of camp, where Athelstan had his tent.


    The knight captain looked up with astonishment upon seeing Brand. "My king," he eximed, bowing his head. "Your presence is unexpected."


    "ns have changed," Brand simply said. "How far away are the ounders camped?"


    "About ten miles south of here, along the Kingsroad. Not so close they can surprise us," Athelstan exined, "not so distant they can slip away unnoticed."


    "How far are they from Lake Myr?" he asked next. "A week, ten days?"


    "They march swiftly," the knight conceded. "They would reach the nearest shore of theke in a week, if I were to guess."


    "Give them more distance," the kingmanded. "Let them consider themselves safe from immediate assaults. Perhaps that will make them slow their pace and buy us a day or two."


    "Of course," Athelstan acquiesced, inclining his head. "May I ask why?"


    "I will take the knights and one fourth of your infantry with me," Brand exined. "We will march southeast through the hills and reach Lake Myr before them."


    "An ambush. Your route is shorter, but leaving the Kingsroad..."


    "Which is why we need more time. With a forced march, we should arrive first."


    "We will need to exchange missives constantly," Athelstan considered. "If we are to make the assault at the same time, in the right location. This will require the utmost skill to execute."


    "Especially on your part, as you must let the ounders gain distance only to catch up to them in time for the ambush," Brand assented. "Are you up to the task?"


    "Of course, my king. You have my word."


    "Good. I will march tomorrow at first light."


    "May I ask what has caused this change in strategy? We take a great risk to engage the ounders, who are already fleeing ournds."


    Brand moved one hand through his hair. "I have decided to invade the Reach. Every soldier that escapes Adalmearc is another enemy we must face beyond the wall, and as it stands, they are likely to outnumber us. Lake Myr is our only chance to even the scales."


    "I see." If the news surprised Athelstan, he did not let it show. "I will prepare your men for the march tomorrow. They have long days ahead."


    ~~~~


    Not two months had expired since the ounder army had marched past Lake Myr, entering central Adalrik. Now they took the same road back. At their first passing, a small Order army had denied them entry and been ughtered for it; the signs of battle could still be seen. Bodiesy amidst broken spears, shattered shields, and arrowheads. The carrion birds had gorged themselves, leaving half-eaten corpses to rot in the summer sun. The stench of deathy heavy in the air as the ounders reached the old battlefield, and few found reason to speak; only the cry of ravens and crows broke the silence.


    Despite the ill surroundings, the army could not overlook the precious resource of freshwater abundant in the area. Their marching pace had slowed ever since reached the edge of theke, taking the opportunity to drink often and letting their horses and beasts of burden do the same. Smoke from many campfires on the western horizon gave themfort knowing the pursuing Order army remained many miles away.


    Thus, the vanguard halted in the same location where the Order troops had made theirst stand. Amidst the decaying dead, the ounders filled their waterskins to the brim; they could not expect to find more water for the next several days until they reached the river Sureste further east.


    As the spearhead of the army prepared to continue the march, their lieutenant hesitated to give the order. He looked to the northern hills, from where his scouts had yet to return; only birds could be seen, rising into the air. To the west, he saw the dust kicked up by the main columns marching towards them. To the east, he noticed how the road narrowed between hills andke. Dread crept across his face.


    He began shouting orders. His men looked at him in confusion, and it took a moment before anyplied. They formed ranks, and a runner broke off westwards to warn the remaining army.


    The first sign was sunlight reflected from the hills. Helmets made of steel and spears. Rows of shields appeared, ck with a white star upon them. To the east, one thousand knights marched onto the road, taking position to block any escape.


    Some among the ounders took their bows and began shooting. But against the armour and shields of the Order soldiers, their arrows availed nothing, nor did it provoke any response. The Mearcians did not move, but held their strong position, staring down with merciless gazes upon their trapped enemy.


    Fear spread across the red-d soldiers. The vanguard consisted of several thousand men, perhaps strong enough to punch through the ranks guarding the eastern road, but if they began moving, their ranks would be disrupted, making them easy prey against the troops in the hills. Caught, they could do nothing but wait for the main army.


    ~~~~


    From the west, the bulk of the ounder forces approached. Yet sounds of battle came with them. The campfires in the distance had been a ruse. Athelstan''s army had marched even before daybreak, reaching the gap where the road cut through the hills to follow thekeshore. Now, they struck against the rearguard, taking control of the position. While word of this came to Sikandar, the messenger from the vanguard also reached themander. His army was trapped.


    Keeping a cool head, the captain ordered the army to march forward. The rearguard was abandoned to buy time. Riding swiftly ahead, Sikandar reached his vanguard to take measure of the situation. An assault against the dismounted knights, who held the eastern road, meant a fight on even grounds. It seemed the best option rather than fighting uphill against the Order infantry to the north.


    On the other hand, the uneven terrain kept Sikandar from assessing the number of troops holding the hills. Their lines could be as deep as the knights defending the road; they might also be only a few ranks, using thendscape to hide this fact.


    As the remainder of his soldiers reached his position, Sikandar weighed his options and finally made his decision. Seeing the Order soldiers motionless, the captainmanded his infantry to begin a barrage. Thousands of arrows flew through the air to darken the sky before striking the hills. As before, they caused few casualties, but they forced the Mearcians to raise their shields and cover themselves.


    Seeing this, the ounder cavalry spurred their horses into action. Swiftly, they crossed the t terrain to ride up the hill, crashing into the infantry just as the hail of arrows ended.


    The Order soldiers converged to close the gap and drive the Zhayedan back, but now the ounder infantry set their bows aside and rushed forward. In response, fifty warriors with a golden dragon on their surcoat joined the Mearcian lines.


    With the struggle in a deadlock, Sikandar ordered another assault upon the hills, further west. As before, arrows pinned the Order troops in ce while the ounders moved against their position, butcking cavalry, the attack came slowly. Another skirmish began.


    All the while, Athelstan''s forces had been whittling down their enemy to the west, destroying the rearguard. Seeing no movement against them, the dismounted knights to the east decided to charge. From three sides, the Mearcians struck into the ounders, taking their revenge for past defeats and countless fallen. To the south, thekey deceptively quiet, deeper than the calm surface suggested. The first soldier threw down his weapons and ran into the water. Another followed.


    Arrows struck them both in the back as they attempted to flee. Sikandar would allow no flight except through the Mearcian lines, regardless of cost; thereiny the only hope for the ounder army to remain intact, albeit with losses. Turning his eyes north, the newly anointed Godking watched his soldiers throw themselves against the fortified hills.


    ~~~~


    It took another hour before the tenacity of the ounders saw reward. The Ordercked the numbers to defend the entire stretch of the hills, and most of their soldiers had been needed to hold the cavalry back. The second assault made solely by the infantry broke through, and the beleaguered ounders rushed through the gap to escape the trap. Once the enemy had taken the position, the Mearcian king called for his own men to abandon the hills.


    This did not avail the ounders caught in the fighting on the road. Trapped between Athelstan in the west and the knights in the east, thousands died or surrendered. As the former arrived with horses, the knights could mount up and harass the retreating ounders, driving them away; meanwhile the infantry took control of thekeshore, setting up camp.

 Chapter 231: Changing Sides

    Chapter 231: Changing Sides


    After the skirmish at Lake Myr, a few days of wary peace followed. Itsted until the ounders reached the Sureste and had to make the crossing. By now, the Mearcian archers marching from Middanhal had caught up to the army, and they harried the red-robed soldiers, seeking to provoke an assault. Sikandar did not take the bait; a failed attack on the disciplined Mearcian lines would leave his soldiers with no route for retreat, as they had their backs to the river. Instead, the ounders bore the casualties and crossed the Sureste with only a few skirmishes taking ce.


    No further fighting urred. Rather than risk an attack during their own crossing, the Order allowed the ounders to continue their retreat. Instead, they rested by the river and gathered supplies. The king left a strong garrison in the city of Inghold, but other than yielding provisions for the army, he ced no punishment on thends of Ingmond despite the treachery of its jarl. Even so, the people of the jarldom breathed a sigh of relief as the army marched on, entering Hthiod.


    ~~~~


    Once in thend of the heathmen, the Order army crossed the realm until they reached Lakon. By now, the ounders under Sikandar had retreated across the Langstan. The incursion had been defeated, and in turn, the Order could now prepare for its own invasion of the Reach. Only one obstacle remained. Ever since their first campaign that overran Hthiod, the ounders had held Lakon.


    Any supply lines for the invasion would pass by the city; it could not be allowed to remain in enemy hands. Thus, the Order made camp with several aims. Patrols established control of the area, denying any further provisions to the city. Engineers began working on siege machinery. Furthermore, the soldiers built defences to enclose Lakon, even if they were hard pressed to man them all.


    That issue became resolved over the next days. From Korndale to the west and the remainder of Hthiod to the north, reinforcements arrived. Led by the marshals of those realms, several thousand troops trickled into the camp until atst, the king had both soldiers,manders, and supplies to begin his invasion  once Lakon was taken.


    In the king''s tent, his captains assembled to discuss the task at hand. "From what we know, the garrison is only two to three thousand strong," said Ewind, marshal of Hthiod. "Most of the troops left when the main army retreated this way. One assault should take the city."


    "It would be costly," imed Ferdinand, marshal of Korndale. "But if the kingmands, we shall do it," he swiftly added.


    "We do not have the time for a lengthy siege," Brand admitted.


    "The eastern wall has fewer towers," Athelstan pointed out. "Given how many archers we must expect to face, I suggest the main assault takes ce there."


    "It may note to it if they see reason and ept terms," the king continued, ncing at Godfrey. "But if need be, we will take the city by storm tomorrow. Sir William, you lead the west. Sir Ewind, the north. Sir Ferdinand, the south. Once they have scattered their defenders, you will make the actual assault in the east, Sir Athelstan."


    The knights bowed their heads and murmured their assent.


    ~~~~


    Mostly kingthanes dwelt in the tents surrounding the king''s with one exception. A strange quarto dwelt together nearby. The King''s Quill, his apprentice, an ounder, and Godfrey. While thetter attended the king''s council, the other three could be found inside the tent. Egil whittled feather pens into shape, the oundery on his bedroll, and Kate studied him with her hands under her chin.


    "If you''re really a ckboot, why aren''t your boots ck?"


    Dariush exhaled. "I am in disguise. Your people get nervous when they see me." He turned to his side, leaving Kate to stare at his back.


    "Leave him alone," Egil muttered with a nervous twitch as his knife sharpened the quill.


    "Godfrey said he was on our side," Kate retorted. "He could be a little more forting," the young woman imed.


    "An entire life spent working against the Godking," Dariush muttered in his own tongue, "and this is my reward."


    "What are you mumbling?"


    Godfrey entered the tent. "We''re trying tomorrow," he told the ckboot using the ounders'' speech. "You have your things?"


    In response, Dariush patted the bag by his bedroll.


    "It''s very rude to talk foreign words like we''re not here," Kate protested. Next to her, Egil''s knife slipped, cutting the quill in half.


    ~~~~


    The next day, the Order army marched out to surround the city. The garrison responded as expected, filling the walls in anticipation of battle. At the western gate, a knight rode forward while his squire held a banner with the head of a horse upon it. As the sun rose, thousands of soldiers stood, shields and armour shining to fill the horizon.


    At length themander of the garrison appeared atop the gatehouse. "You bring terms," he called out in Mearcspeech.


    "I do. As lord marshal of the Order of Adal, I am entrusted by the high king of Adalmearc to offer you peace. Open the gates,y down your arms, and you shall retain your lives and your freedom," William proimed.


    "Fools!" The vitriol came from a Servant of the me. He spat the word in his own tongue. "A feeble ruse. They will ughter us all. The Godking bids you fight! All for the Godking!"


    A figure separated from the group surrounding the king to reach William and Baldwin. "The Godking is dead!" Dariush dered loudly. He wore his ckboot garbs.


    "sphemy! The Godking tests us. Do not listen!"


    "If you fight, you die for nothing!"


    "The Godking''s fire shall torment your soul!" shrieked the priest.


    "Look at me! I am a syag, and I have received mercy from the king of the drnders. He is honourable and good."


    "Silence the heretic! Be silent!"


    "I swear to you, brothers, you may be free on this very day. The drnders are not our enemies. The Servants of the me are."


    "Shoot him!" the priest demanded of the nearby archers. "Kill him!"


    "How many have died on their altars? How many of you have lost fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, children to their knives? For a god who is dead!"


    "A thousand gues upon you, sphemer! The Godking shall strike you down!"


    "And yet he has not," Dariush retorted, "for he is dead! in by a de of Ruin. Tell me, have you seen any fravashi? No, for the Godking''s might is broken, and his fell warriors are gone."


    "Kill the sphemer!" The priest practically foamed at the mouth as his words became incoherent. Next, he began screaming while flying over the wall. It ended as he hit the ground.


    Themander of the garrison, whose hand had flung the priest to his death, spoke again. "Is the Godking truly dead?"


    "Yes, my brother. And the fravashi are all gone."


    "And we may live if we surrender?"


    "All of you shall live, unharmed, as free men."


    "Open the gate. We yield."

 Chapter 232: Desecration

    Chapter 232: Desecration


    The Langstan had no gates; the Mearcians never intended for any to cross it. The ounders had built ramps to act as an earthen bridge, letting their troops march into Hthiod. A week prior, they had used it to retreat, leaving only a handful of troops behind to dismantle it. By the time the Order patrols retook control of the southern Langstan, much of the earthworks were gone. Building new and rebuilding old crossings cost the army several days, camped just north of the wall until the ramps finally stood ready. For the first time in their history, an army from Adalmearc crossed into the Reach.


    Their first target was Rund. The city controlled the entrance into the realm; any deeper incursion would require it to be on Mearcian hands. As with Lakon, the Order army made camp and prepared for an assault; inside the city, the garrison did the same.


    ~~~~


    Egil and Kate wandered around in idle fashion, watching soldiers raise palisades, dig trenches, and erect watchtowers. Sometimes, they had to hurry out of the way as men walked past carrying timber, on asion even receiving a harsh word. Undeterred, they continued until another voice called out.


    "Hamaring''s beard, who let these rascals wander freely?"


    The pair of youths swung around. "Jorund!"


    Beaming a smile, the Dwarf approached to give each of them a fearsome hug. "I should be mad at you," he said as he released them. "You nevere to our part of camp to visit me."


    "We tried the other day," Kate insisted. "But we had to give up." The admission came with a bashful look.


    "Give up?"


    "We couldn''t remember the name of your house," Egil admitted with a mumble. "After meeting the fifth Dwarf named Jorund, we gave up trying to find you."


    A scowl took hold of the Dwarf''s face. "Well, it wouldn''t have helped you much," he conceded, his expression turning friendly. He pulled on his earring. "I have at least two cousins named Jorund." Laughter rolled out from his body. "Another time, ask for Jorund Seaborn. There''s only one cat by that name."


    "We will," Kate promised.


    "It''s still weird to see you without a hawk on your clothes," Egil said.


    The Dwarf ran his hand across the axe wreathed in mes that adorned his surcoat. "Those other hawks weren''t flying this way. I had to let the bird go and pick up the axe." His eyes gleamed with mirth.


    "Because the other Dwarves went, and you had to go as well?" asked Kate.


    He crossed his arms. "You make it sound like I caved to pressure! Let me tell you, Jorund Seaborn leapt at the chance to see ancient Dvarheim again."


    "You mentioned that before, but you didn''t say what it was," Egil said.


    "Ah, my young ones." He ced one arm around each of their shoulders and began walking, pulling them close to himself. "I still remember the salt spray hitting the nks of the ship deck as my mother first told me the old tales. Within the hollow mountain, they carved a hall whose vault could rival the sky! Columns taller than trees stretched up to create a forest of stone. Light glowed, reflected from a thousand gems delved from the deepest earth to shine in all the colours of the rainbow. Dvarheim, Dwarf-home, where first our hammers struck anvil."


    "That sounds incredible," Kate eximed.


    "Very," Egil added with bboured breath, struggling to keep pace while trapped in the Dwarf''s iron grip.


    "You can be sure once those gates burst open, those walls are scaled or breached, or whatever in Hel''s name will happen, Jorund Seaborn will be first to set foot inside!"


    "Of course you will," Kate agreed with a beaming smile.


    Egil merely grunted.


    ~~~~


    The captains of Brand''s army left his tent. They had held council regarding the storm upon Rund; orders had been given, and now they dispersed in order to carry them out. Godfrey stayed behind. While Geberic polished boots and ukos kept watch, the wanderer approached the king at his behest.


    "Is your man in ce?"


    "Of course. I have never known him to fail."


    "They will be alert," Brand warned. "You ce great trust in a single man."


    "If it can be done, he will do it."


    "I pray you are right. I have no appetite formanding my soldiers to storm the city."


    "It will work."


    The king exhaled. "I wish they would have seen reason and surrendered as in Lakon."


    Godfrey shrugged. "Those were soldiers abandoned in hostilends. These are men fighting to protect their home against invaders. There is no other way."


    "Godfrey," Brand said with a warning in his voice, "once we break the enemy, I am done. The Dwarves may do as they wish, but I cannot leave garrisons on this side of the Langstan. I have too many enemies at home to spare the soldiers."


    "I understand."


    "I will destroy the priesthood and their new Godking, but anything after that is out of my hands."


    "None can ask for more, my king."


    ~~~~


    At night, the garrison of Rund kept sharp vigil; in particr to the north, where the Order campy. Fires moving about in the dark suggested activity even after sunset, making the garrison nervous. Archers crowded the towers, and pairs of soldiers patrolled the walls, keeping constant vignce.


    On the other side, to the south, the same pattern repeated, except with fewer guards. A handful of bowmen filled the gatehouse and towers, and patrols came less frequent.


    A ckboot walked down the fortifications, carrying a bag, but no obvious weapons. He continued along the wall until he had the same distance to the tower ahead as the gatehouse behind, keeping him hidden from either vantage point in the dark.


    Soon, a pair of sentinels approached on their patrol. "A syag," one of them eximed, pointing ahead with his spear. "What are you doing here?"


    "I was given a special task," Dariush replied.


    "What''s in the bag?"


    "Take a look." Approaching them, he threw it in front of their feet. As they looked down, a knife appeared in each of his hands. Swiftly, he stabbed both soldiers in the throat. They gasped for air, trying to scream or raise the rm, but nothing but blood came out. Catching each of their cors, Dariush carefully lowered them to the ground.


    He opened the bag and pulled out a ropedder, attached one end to the nearest crention, and threw the other end over the wall. Retrieving his daggers, he cleansed their blood and crouched low with furtive nces back and forth.


    The rope next to him became tight and strained against the stonework. One after another, ten knights ascended, climbing over the parapet.


    "If this is a trap, I swear "


    Dariush did not let the Mearcian finish. "Then you are already dead, and wasting time will not help. Follow me! I will enter the gatehouse first. They will not suspect me, and when you attack, I''ll help."


    "Fine." The knights grasped the hilts of their swords, but they did not draw them yet; the night sky had enough moonlight to reflect steel. "Hurry on."


    "I hope you remember who fights on your side," Dariush remarked before he hastened ahead of them towards the gatehouse.


    ~~~~


    Once the ten knights took the southern gate, another two hundred rode through, securing control. The garrison rallied in an attempt to retake it, and battle erupted on the streets of Rund. For half an hour, the fate of the city hung in the bnce. Itsted until the Order infantry, hiding some miles south of the city, reached the fight. They streamed past the gate, numbering more than a thousand. With heavier armour and the knights among their numbers, they pushed the garrison back. Three hours after sunrise, thest defenders surrendered.


    With all gates under control, thousands more could march in from the Order camp. The wounded and weary soldiers retreated from the city, patrols and sentinels posted, and the dead were dealt with.


    Detachments of Mearcians went to all the temples in the city. To thest, the Servants of the me stood in defiance, uttering curses and brandishing their ritual knives. That did not deter the Order soldiers. They cleared the temple, arresting every priest or priestess who could be disarmed; a few of them slit their own throat, letting their blood spill over the altar stone as a final sacrifice.


    Regardless of resistance, the Mearcians did the same to every temple. As the locals watched in shock, the statues of the Godking were hauled outside and destroyed. The eternal fires were extinguished. The Servants were tied up and dragged to the city square, including the young acolytes.


    There, in front of the main temple in Rund, the priests and priestesses witnessed the desecration continue. Hammer and chisel defaced the masks of the Godking carved into the stone. With horrified expressions, they screamed and begged for it to stop. The Mearcians, none of whom spoke the ounder tongue, did not cease.


    All the while, a crowd gathered, watching the sacrilege unfold. Some reacted as the Servants, and the Order soldiers had to line up in ranks and use the blunt end of their spears to push them back.


    Others watched with cruel satisfaction, and their eyes soon turned towards the clergy of the Godking, tied up and defenceless. The first stone flew. It struck a priestess on the shoulder, and she cried out with a bewildered look. The next stone hit a priest in the head. He fell to the ground, bleeding. Once the third stone was cast, a riot broke out.


    The square turned into mayhem. Some of the citizens rushed to aid the Servants; others did the same to harm them. A few turned their ire against the Order soldiers, which ended poorly. Surrounded by chaos, unable to understand the outbursts and shouts, the Mearcians turned their weapons on everyone who fought. Soon, blood flowed for the second time in the streets of Rund.


    ~~~~


    "Javed." Dariush, no longer dressed as a ckboot, stalked through the camp until he reached Godfrey.


    "You''re safe. I''m d. Any trouble?"


    The ounder shook his head. "Not much. Some soldiers gave me hassle when I wanted to leave the city, but the letter of passage from their king made them quiet."


    "I meant trouble with your taskst night, but not worth mentioning, I see."


    Dariush waved a hand around dismissively. "It went as expected. But did you hear of the unrest?"


    "Tell me."


    "Riots on the main square."


    "They attacked the drnders?" Godfrey frowned. "That is suicide."


    "No. They attacked the Servants. Well, some did. Others defended them. The drnders, not knowing better, fought both."


    "Regrettable. But we knew there would be a cost."


    "Yes, but there is more to it. Javed, I have walked among the marked people here in camp. Those who wear the single earring and dyed marks on their skin."


    "What of them?"


    "Many of them are not warriors, but craftsmen. Some are children. They do note as soldiers, but as settlers." Dariush stared at hispanion. "I wondered why that would be until I remembered the tales of ves in the sacred mountain. ves with markings, defeated by the Godking long ago. Carvings in temples that show this battle."


    "What is your point?" Godfrey returned the stare.


    "Javed, where have theye to settle?"


    He exhaled. "They seek the sacred mountain," he admitted. "It was the marked people who delved the halls before the Godking came and took it from them."


    "I thought as much. For my sake, they are wee to that ursed ce," the ckboot dered. "But Javed, we are taking people''s beliefs from them. The Godking, the Servants, and now the mountain?" He scratched his forehead. "I worry this will not end well."


    "As do I," Godfrey admitted. "I have made so many promises, Dariush, knowing not all could be kept. I dared not risk defeat." He looked at the ckboot with sudden anguish. "I was so tempted, my friend, to do far worse. But I always sought freedom for your people."


    "I know, Javed. You did what was needed."


    "And now the cards have been dealt. They must all be yed."

 Chapter 233: The Seed of Conflict

    Chapter 233: The Seed of Conflict


    With Rund in Mearcian hands, the Order army could continue. Supply lines stretching back across the Langstan to Hthiod were secure. Ahead, in the far distance, the peak of Niheim could be seen against the horizon. While the name revealed how the Mearcians disdained this ce, the ounders revered it. It held the throne of the Godking and stood as the centre of his priesthood. Furthermore, the city inside the hollow mountain held thousands of craftsmen, and the same number of ves worked the deep mines to gather ore. From here, the armies of the Reach were equipped. To conquer the mountain would deal a crippling blow, perhaps decisive enough to end the war. Two days after the conquest of Rund, the Order army began its march south.


    It took a week before they met resistance. Quick skirmishes between patrols that slowed their progress and kept them blind to whaty ahead further south. Sending a vanguard in force to press ahead, they eventually found the reason for the enemy presence. The ounder army, revitalised and reinforced, had marched out to defend Niheim. Battle seemed inevitable.


    ~~~~


    "How many?" Brand sat in his tent, studying a simple drawing of the surroundingndscape.


    "More than sixty thousand," Godfrey told him. Besides the two, only Geberic and ukos were present. The former sewed a tear in his tunic and thetter sharpened his de.


    "And I have less than forty." The king exhaled. "The terrain gives no reprieve. Godfrey, are you certain of your n? If you have the slightest doubt, I must withdraw. I cannot offer battle on these terms."


    "I am certain." The wanderer looked at Brand resolutely.


    "If you are wrong, I will not forgive this error."


    "I understand."


    "Very well." The king looked at his sergeant. "Summon my captains. We fight."


    ~~~~


    In the camp of the ounders, Sikandar had done as the king. Wearing the mask of the Godking, he sat in his tent with his captains gathered before him. Out of all of them, only Arash and Rostam had apanied themander during the first invasion of Adalmearc. The rest were recent appointments, filling the positions made empty by recent battles.


    "If the drnders advance, we must fight," Sikandar dered. "We cannot allow them to besiege the sacred mountain. The scouts say we have more troops, which the tndscape will allow us to take full advantage of. Yet our enemy has proven cunning in the past."


    "Their best chance would be to trap our centre as they did before," one lieutenant argued. "We should focus our superior numbers on one nk, envelop theirs."


    "Many of our soldiers are new recruits or pulled from the garrisons," Arash pointed out. "We do not know how they will handle the fight. We should ce our troops evenly across our lines rather than risk any sudden vulnerability."


    "I agree with Jenaab Arash," Rostam said. "On t terrain such as this, cavalry will determine the oue of the battle."


    "Surprising words from the leader of the Zhayedan," another lieutenant remarked sarcastically.


    Sikandar raised one hand tomand silence. "Do you have more to say, Jenaab Rostam?"


    "The typical strategy in a battle like this would be to divide the cavalry to protect each nk. Yet if we do this, and the drnders do this, I fear their knights will prove stronger in both fights. With this open field, they can manoeuvre with ease, avoiding our infantry or retreating to make a renewed charge."


    "You have a solution?"


    "We ce all our cavalry on the one nk. If the drnders do the same, the resulting engagement of suchrge numbers will keep them entrenched, allowing our footmen to join the fight. If they split their forces, we win the engagement, and our cavalry may envelop their infantry," Rostam exined.


    "And what of the other nk?" asked a lieutenant.


    "We keep our reserves in that position. They may not do much fighting, but they can keep the nk anchored and defend against the enemy''s cavalry. Meanwhile, we win the battle on the opposite side."


    "It seems dangerous tomit our reserves to one side," Arash argued.


    "It will be bnced by the Zhayedan all fighting on the other," Rostam countered.


    "And if the Zhayedan fail?" asked another lieutenant.


    "The drnders will envelop our infantry and win. Which will happen anyway if we divide our cavalry and lose. Keeping all the Zhayedan together gives us the best opportunity to avoid this."


    Sikandar slowly wrung his hands together, though the mask hid all his emotions. "Fighting in the expected manner has not gone well against this enemy. And their knights have proven formidable. I will follow Jenaab Rostam''s advice."


    "Divine Majesty." The aforementioned lieutenant bowed his head.


    "Prepare the men. We fight tomorrow."


    ~~~~


    The two armies assembled on a t in. Nothing met their eyes except the peak of Niheim to the far south. The sun had risen early and warmed the field; it promised to be a pleasant summer''s day, were it not for the impending bloodshed.


    The ounders stood in deep ranks with arge detachment in reserve on the western nk. Further behind, to the east, their cavalry waited under Rostam.


    The Mearcians held nothing back. Their entire infantry stood deployed, allowing them to match the breadth of the enemy lines. As for the knights, all of them had gathered to the east, leaving their western nk exposed.


    The Order soldiers did not waste a moment. As soon as they stood arrayed for battle, they marched forward. The ounders met them with arrows. Meanwhile, Sikandar had already noticed the weakness in the Mearcian formation. Quickly, he sent a messenger to the reserves on the western nk. There would be no enemy cavalry to protect against; instead, they were to move into battle at once and envelop the Order army.


    The king of Adalmearc did not waste time either. Even while his infantry still marched forward, hemanded his knights to attack. Having awaited the signal from the king''s banner, Sir Ewind began the charge.


    The movement made by thousands of horses could not be disguised. Sikandar gave his own signal for the Zhayedan to make their counter-attack.


    ~~~~


    "Jenaab, they have given the signal," a soldier said, pointing towards Sikandar''s position. "The Godking bids us make our attack." He sat on his horse next to Rostam.


    The captain of the Zhayedan did not move. "Hold steady."


    "But Jenaab, the drnders attack!"


    "Hold!" he roared.


    Ahead, the knights changed their direction. Having moved past the infantry of the two armies, they charged into the ounders from behind, tearing through the ranks.


    "Jenaab, the battle will be lost!"


    "And with it, the tyrant!" Rostam dered.


    "Traitor!" shouted the soldier. He dropped his spear to draw his sword, but Rostam was quicker, grabbing his dagger to stab to the other man.


    "The reign of the Godking is over!" the captain bellowed, pulling his dagger back. "If you wish to see your families free, you will stand down!"


    Confusion and murmurs spread among the Zhayedan. Finally, they drew swords.


    "All for the Godking!"


    "Death to the tyrant!"


    A dreadful fight ensued as brother killed brother.


    ~~~~


    The battlested only another hour. Unopposed, the knights crushed the ounders'' formations. Their reserves were deployed on the wrong nk, attempting to envelop the Mearcian lines; they had barely moved into position before the battle had been decided. All hope lost, the ounders took to flight, but the Mearcian cavalry pursued them across the t ins all through the long summer''s day. When night finally fell, tens of thousandsy dead. The might of the Reach had been broken.


    ~~~~


    In the evening, a handful of ounders came to the Order camp under guard. Soldiers led them to the king''s dwelling, where a heated discussion with the thanes ensued. Finally, one of them stepped inside the tent. "My king, the ounder captain is here as you requested, but he refuses to yield his weapons."


    Brand raised one hand. "Hees as an ally, not a prisoner. Let him keep his sword." Behind him, ukos grumbled while Godfrey murmured in assent.


    Rostam entered the tent, still armed. Brand rose in greeting, inclining his head. He sat down, gesturing towards the chair in front of him, and his visitor took the empty seat.


    "Wee, Lord Rostam. I have been told of the aid you have lent us." Brand nced up at Godfrey, who had moved to stand to the side. "I am grateful."


    Rostam bowed his head in eptance. "You are the great king of all yournds?" he asked, speaking the Mearcian tongue.


    "I am high king of Adalmearc, yes," Brand confirmed.


    "You are young," Rostam spoke hesitantly, "and you wear no crown or mask, but the same clothes as your servants."


    "My power does not rest upon such trinkets."


    The ounder nodded slowly. "Maybe we can learn from this. Once Sikandar is removed, and the Servants, we have difficult decisions ahead of us. We already have a second tyrant seeking to rece the first."


    "I assumed you would take up the mantle," Brand said.


    "I may hold the highest rank among those who seek the morrow," Rostam exined, "but I will not take power for that reason. Else I shall simply be the third tyrant."


    "That is your business," the king dered. "As long as the new ruler ensures peace with Adalmearc, that I never have cause to return."


    "That is certain," Rostam promised. "We are not eager to have soldiers of yournds in ours any longer than necessary."


    "You need not worry. I will withdraw as soon as my aim is achieved."


    "Your army, yes, but what of the marked people?"


    "He means the Dwarves," Godfrey added.


    "They seek return to their ancestral home. It is not for me to hinder this," Brand imed.


    "They are your subjects, are they not? Theye from yournds."


    "They did, but they left, and they are no longer my subjects. If they wish to settle, I cannot stop this. You do not expect me to turn my soldiers upon them, surely."


    "Yet you pave the road," Rostam argued. "You remove any obstacle in their path. I am told they seek the sacred mountain."


    "Niheim," Godfrey interjected.


    "It has been ours for as long as we remember. How am I to gain my people''s trust, convince them to cast aside the new Godking and his priesthood, if ournds are given away to invaders?"


    "Without my army, you will not achieve any of this regardless," Brand retorted. "This Sikandar may be defeated for now, but he will recover in time."


    "Without my help, you would not have won this battle. Not to mention I and others risked our lives to pass you information, undermining the Godking''s war against you from within," Rostam countered.


    "I believe that brings up an excellent point," Godfrey interceded, "that you had and have amon enemy. If Adalmearc is to be safe, Sikandar must be defeated. If the other cities of the Reach are to cast aside the Godking''s yoke, Sikandar must be defeated."


    "You speak your honeyed words, Javed, but I do not dispute this," Rostam said. "But I will give this warning. If the people of yourndse to take ours, it will be the seed of conflict. If you truly wish for peace tost, you should be careful what you sow."


    "Consider me warned," Brand dered. "For now, Godfrey is right. We still have a war to win."


    "Very well. I must go. We still have many dead to bury." Rostam rose, bowed his head, and left.

 Chapter 234: Sigvards Might

    Chapter 234: Sigvard''s Might


    For the next weeks, the Order army harassed the ounders to prevent an orderly retreat, separating their forces east and south. Besides this, many also surrendered and were weed into Rostam''s growing numbers. The power of the Godking, new or old, had been shattered. Defeat after defeat with losses, desertions, and defections had left Sikandar with only a remnant of the great armies that had invaded Adalmearc.


    Yet as the Order army approached Niheim, it became clear the new Godking did not require more than that to defend his capital. The mountain rose indomitably into the sky. Walls and towers fortified the steep cliffs, impossible to assault. Inside the hollow peaky provisions and deep wells, allowing a siege to be resisted for years.


    The great gate provided the only entry inside, and it appeared impregnable as well. Made with steel and great cunning, it would scorn attacks by rams and any other siege machinery. As the Mearcians stared at the foreboding mountain, dread crept into their camp. With the enormous gate unassable, the only way in seemed to be scaling the daunting cliffsides, which seemed near impossible as well. The alternative would be a siege that could drag on for years, all the while Sikandar regained his strength and called for aid from the rest of the Reach.


    ~~~~


    Egil sat with crossed legs in his tent. He had a tray in hisp, acting as a hard surface, on whichy pieces of paper full of scribbles. With a few strokes of the pen, he added the current date and some notes concerning the army''s progress and arrival at Niheim.


    The opening was flung aside to let Kate enter. "Jorund is busy," she said. "He and the other Dwarves are preparing to fight."


    "I didn''t think they''d have any way in."


    "I asked the same. They think they can find a way, or they''ll try to scale the cliffs."


    "That''s mad." Egil stared in the direction of the mount, hidden by the fabric of the tent. "It''s a damn mountain. They''ll get themselves killed."


    "I told Jorund to stay back, but he justughed." Kate shrugged, but her casual gesture was contradicted by her expression as she bit her lip.


    "I''m sure he''ll be fine." Egil''s voice did not hold much conviction.


    "Do you think Godfrey knows something? Maybe there''s a secret way in."


    "We could ask. He went to meet the king. We can go find him."


    "I''m not meeting the king," Kate protested. "I''d die of embarrassment! But they won''t even let us into his tent, I bet."


    "I meant, we wait outside until their meeting is done," Egil exined with an overbearing tone.


    "Oh, right. You don''t have to say it like that. Let''s go."


    The young man and woman left the tent, making their way through the camp. It bustled with activity, as the army had only just arrived and would be preparing for a siege. Above all, defences needed to be erected, including watchtowers for sentinels.


    Approaching the king''s tent, the youths arrived just to see Godfrey leave. As they called out to him, he looked at them with slight irritation. "I don''t have time," he said, brushing them off, and he began walking away.


    "We''ll go with you," Kate said self-assured.


    The wanderer stopped abruptly. He looked over his shoulder at the pair, and his expression softened. "You do as I say. Without hesitation or objection."


    "We promise," Kate told him while Egil nodded vigorously.


    "Come along, then." Godfrey resumed walking.


    "Where are we going?" she asked.


    "To see an old friend."


    ~~~~


    They walked for hours, going north. Nothingy ahead except the t ins; if Godfrey steered towards anything, it was not visible to hispanions. Despite their questions, he gave no answers as to their destination.


    The day had turned into evening before he finally stopped. He gazed back at the camp thaty in the far distance. Nothing surrounded them. All the Order soldiers were upied preparing for the siege or establishing control around the mountain. "As good a ce as any," Godfrey mumbled. He held his hand to his pocket, and a sparrow leapt out tond on his palm. He threw his hand up into the air, giving the bird momentum to fly away.


    "What was that?" asked Kate.


    "Just a messenger. Now we wait."


    "For what?"


    "You''ll see." Godfreyy down, closing his eyes. "Wake me when you feel it."


    "Feel what?" she asked. A light snore was her only reply.


    "I guess we''ll see," Egil considered.


    Kate looked around. "There''s nothing here." She kicked a rock on the ground.


    "Godfrey doesn''t do things without reason." The young scribe began walking around, scouting in every direction.


    "That doesn''t mean his reasons are any good. Maybe he just wanted somewhere quiet to sleep." Kate did the same as him, but darkness concealed the horizon. Even Niheim could barely be seen anymore, except for watchfires upon its towers. Simrly, the camp of the Order army was hidden from their sight besides shes of light.


    Growing weary after a while, the youths eventually sat down opposite each other, heads in their hands. "How long do you think we''ll be here?" asked Kate.


    "Until Godfrey wakes up, I guess."


    "I mean in the Reach."


    "Oh. No idea."


    "I miss the library." She sighed.


    "Me too. Not the cold, though. It''s warm here."


    "Not at night." Kate shivered slightly, cing her arms around herself.


    "The breeze is picking up." Just as Egil spoke, a gust of wind made both of them shake.


    "Weird. It''s noisy. And ites and goes."


    "What is that sound?"


    They stood up, looking around. The wind came again and again like a giant bellow, making a noise akin to it as well. A shadow passed over the moon, and they both nced up.


    Kate grabbed Egil''s hand. "What''s happening?"


    "He is here." Godfrey opened his eyes and stood up. "Watch. But don''t move."


    The moonlight illuminated the shape of a great, dark figure. Staring with open mouths, the young pair watched as it descended.


    With brown scales nearly invisible in the night, Earthwingnded before the great gate. The ground broke asunder bearing the weight and impact of the great wyrm. He opened his jaws. Primordial fire burst from his maw, illuminating the darkness for a moment. The great gate, which could withstand all the devices made by Men, Dwarves, and Elves, twisted and melted under the onught.


    Advancing quickly, Earthwing ced his ws around the damaged gate and tore it apart, leaving it in the dust. Extending his wings, the drake flew into the air, disappearing as swiftly as he had arrived.


    ~~~~


    The great sh in the night caused a predictable disturbance. In the camp, the soldiers seized weapons and assembled under their banners, ready to fight. Scouts crept out into the dark towards the mountain, searching for enemies.


    While the Order soldiers waited to receivemands, the Dwarves saw no reason for hesitation. All of their warriors gathered and began marching towards Niheim. Thus, they noticed the destroyed gate before others and wasted no time in advancing.


    They met a garrison in disarray. Most of the ounders manned the towers, feeling secure atop the cliffs; none of them expected an attack, least of all through the indomitable gate. The halls resounded of Dwarven battle cries as the red-d soldiers tried to mount a desperate defence. The rune-marked warriors swept the first resistance aside, and as Order soldiers began to arrive, the battle only grew more one-sided.


    The Anausa were already demoralised from past defeats and a long march on retreat. The enemy suddenly appearing within their very halls only served to further break their spirits. Many cast their weapons aside and ran, hiding. Of the few that fought, the attackers easily proved stronger, if nothing else through numbers.


    In the throne room, Sikandar had taken the Godking''s seat. He wore the mask on his face and silken robes. Beyond the great doors to the hall, the sounds of battle resonated. They grew louder and louder with all that implied. In his hand, the new Godking had a tight grip on a small vial. As the doors finally burst open and fighting spilled beyond, he tore his mask away and emptied the sk into his mouth. As his royal guards died between the tall pirs stretching endlessly upwards, Sikandar drew hisst breath.


    ~~~~


    Jorund swung his axe yet again, renewing the red colour on the edge. Followed by other Dwarves, he fought his way through the hallways and guard rooms that spread like a spider''s web, all to protect the entrance hall and the gate. All in vain. The fury of their onught made it seem more like a massacre, and blood covered their faces.


    Finally, as the Dwarf kicked another door open, he found no opposition. He stood in a forge, meant for supplying and repairing arms. In a corner sat the smith, crouched together with his legs under his chin. His skin had the brown colour of the earth, but his beard was much longer than what the ounders wore. He looked up at Jorund.


    "Brother, if the overseer catches you with weapons, he will flog you," he whispered.


    Jorund approached him andy his axe aside on the anvil. He extended one hand to help the other Dwarf to stand. "There are no overseers left, friend."


    The smith stared at his visitor. He traced his finger along Jorund''s sleeve where a de had torn it open, revealing the skin underneath. Runes in blue and red could be seen. The smith ran his fingers against the markings. "Yours stay," he said, makingrge eyes. He showed his own wrist, which likewise had a rune. With the other hand, he rubbed the skin until it became a smudge. "I make them so they disappear. So I don''t get caught."


    "Brother," Jorund mumbled, "you''ll never have to worry about that again."


    ~~~~


    "Wait here." Godfrey gestured for his youngpanions to remain behind.


    "But "


    "No arguments." He began walking away. It was still night; sunrise would not happen for several hours. This far from the mountain, they could not see what took ce at Niheim.


    A sparrow flew down tond in Godfrey''s hand as he moved. He fed it a few crumbs and ced it inside his pocket. Soon, gusts of wind followed, growing in intensity, and he grabbed his hat to keep it from blowing away. As the wanderer stopped, he nced up at the sky.


    Causing cracks to spread along the ground, Earthwingnded before him. Godfrey staggered backwards from the impact beforeposing himself, looking at the great drake. In turn, Earthwing bowed his head so low, he almost touched the dirt.


    "I greet you, my lord."


    "Well met, Kalessin."


    "When the sparrow came, I knew of your presence. But I should have guessed all along your hand was behind the son of Sigvard."


    Godfrey bowed his head in acknowledgement. "We all y our part."


    "Why send him, my lord? If you had simply appeared and bade mee, I would."


    "Precisely for that reason. You would have taken it asmand, and it had to be your choice. Who else to ask you this favour than the blood of Sigvard?"


    The dragon exhaled, blowing Godfrey''s hair about. "I did as he wished. I opened the way. No blood stains my ws, yet blood has been spilt. Tell me, my lord, am I to me?"


    The wanderer looked down quickly at his own hands before meeting the wyrm''s gaze once more. "Only you can decide that. But you see now why it had to be your choice, and yours alone."


    "I understand, my lord. Ah, to spread my wings once more. I had forgotten the taste of flight, as I forgot the scent of grass or touch of rain. Yet I think it is time I retire to my sleep."


    "It is well deserved, my old friend."


    "What of you, my lord? Is your travail at an end?"


    Now it was Godfrey''s turn to exhale, though the effect was less marked. "I have a few loose ends. Who knows? Perhaps I will return. But I do believe I have earned going home."


    "Undoubtedly. I bid you farewell, my lord."


    "Fare you well," Godfrey replied. With a quick beating of his wings, the drake rose into the air and flew away.


    The wanderer stood, watching the great shape disappear into the darkness of the night before he turned to walk back. He had note far before a pair of excited voices greeted him.


    "What did you talk about?"


    "What did he say?"


    "That is between him and me," Godfrey dered sternly. "Be quiet and follow me. We should get back to camp. You have a long journey home, and I expect it will begin soon, if not already tomorrow."


    "Really? We''re going home?" asked Kate.


    "The king is eager to return. Especially as he has received news good and bad."


    "What news?" asked Egil.


    "The war in Thusund is at an end, and Queen Svana has ced her fleet at the king''s disposal. Yet the southerners have begun the siege of Herbergja, with mercenaries pouring in from the South. I do believe a forced march lies ahead of you, to save the western realms of Adalmearc."


    ~~~~


    The battle for Niheim ended before the sun rose. By then, all of the garrison had died, surrendered, or hid themselves deeper inside the cityplex. The Dwarves set about releasing all the thralls they could find andying im to every area of importance.


    Rostam and his followers arrived during the day, seeking the safety of the craftsmen and others of their people inside the mountain. Quarrel soon arose between him and the Dwarves, leaving Godfrey to act as mediator between the two parties.


    As for the Mearcians, the wanderer''s prediction came true. The Order soldiers quickly retreated once it became clear opposition was broken, returning outside to dismantle their camp. With the new Godking dead and his priesthood decimated, the king of Adalmearc left the war in the Reach in the hands of Rostam and his rebels. Instead, he turned his army north in a hurried march back to his ownnds.

 Chapter 235: Sea and Stone

    Chapter 235: Sea and Stone


    Portesur had fallen swifter than any expected. The southerners'' siege craft had broken the walls, allowing the mercenaries to storm the defences. Once inside, they had looted the city as part of their payment. Now, it served as the bridgehead for Alczar''s invasion on the maind. Its provisions had been added to those of the army, and its port provided anchorage for the fleet.


    Despite the swift conquest, the victoriousmander did not growcent. By now, the army had reached a size of several tens of thousands, too many for the fleet to transport at once. Instead, a few days after the fall of Portesur, they began their march north. They followed the coastline, allowing ships to resupply them in addition to provisions plundered from the surroundings.


    It took them several weeks, but finally, their destination came into sight. Herbergja, the busiest port in Adalmearc and the economic heart of the Seven Realms. They immediately began preparations for the siege. In Adalrik, by a twist of fate, the same took ce; just as the southerners had reached Herbergja, so did the ounders begin their ill-fated siege of Middanhal.


    ~~~~


    From the walls of Herbergja, Sir Asger watched the arrival of the enemy. Their tents seemed to fill the horizon with countless banners in many colours, each denoting a differentpany of hired swords. In contrast, the ck standard with the white star of the Order flew from the city towers, next to the raven g of Thusund.


    Soldiers in ck surcoats filled the towers along with archers from the isles, ready for defence. As the seat of the Order in Thusund, the defence of the city was entrusted to them. Besides the stone fortifications and warriors of the Star, it also had the Mihtea for protection. The great river flowed to envelop Herbergja as a moat on every side before reaching the sea. The danger to the city did note fromnd. Turning his gaze west, the marshal looked towards the harbour.


    ~~~~


    East of the city, Prince Saif rode with his advisors and guards to the riverbank. The area had already been searched by his troops, and onepany had forded the river to control the other side. All Mearcian troops were either inside the city or far away.


    Once the group reached the Mihtea, they dismounted and approached the river. The waters flowed swiftly past. In times of peace, scores of vessels would be moving in either direction, transporting goods to and from Herbergja. Now, ity empty.


    "At least freshwater will not be an issue," remarked Adherbal, the prince''s closest advisor.


    Saif walked up to the bank while the guards spread out, sending watchful gazes in all directions. "What do you think?" he asked.


    The engineer nced around with a sceptical demeanour. "Not easy, Your Highness. The river flows fast and wide at this point, so close to the sea. Tributaries from the mountains." He pointed at the Weolcans thaty to the north. "Not many ces to dig, especially not in safe distance from the city."


    "How long?"


    Chewing on his lip, the engineer looked west towards the sea. "Even with thousands digging, it would take many months to divert the river. If we are unfortunate and winter is harsh, it will freeze the ground, dying work even further."


    "That is toote," Saif muttered to himself. "I want the city taken before the winter storms."


    "Fortunately, we have other means," Adherbal added.


    "We do. Let us return to camp."


    ~~~~


    Herbergja''s wealthy not only in the Mihtea, providing swift trade with the inds of Adalmearc. Where the river met the sea, arge bay formed a good, natural harbour, enhanced through centuries by further works. Stone wallsy like arms extending into the blue, protecting ships in the port from storms. The deep waters allowed all vessels to make anchor, including those meant for the long journeys to the South Cities. Trade from all the known world met in Herbergja; for this reason, the city was coveted by the kings of Ealond and kabirs of Alczar alike.


    The harbour also gave the city its weakness. The entrancey too wide for effective defence as in Dvaros and could not be easily blocked. The stone arms that reached into the sea ran long, but not tall. Easy to scale and requiring many men to defend properly.


    "How much stone do we have?" asked the marshal. He walked along the piers, inspecting the fortifications.


    "Enough for the most pressing repairs, I suppose," replied the mason apanying him. He nced out into the water at the extended walls. It had been decades if not longer since Herbergja had been under threat from the sea; the ships of Thusund usually guarded the waters of the Eylonde Sea. For that reason, the walls had been allowed to fall into disrepair. "Any chance the quarries in the north can send more?"


    "I doubt the southrons will allow any ships to reach us," Asger admitted. "You have what you have."


    "I''ll make do," the mason imed, though his face held little confidence.


    "Get to work immediately." The marshal turned around, walking back to the Order castle thaty nearby, watching over the harbour. Behind him, the craftsmen did as instructed while workers began hauling stone.


    ~~~~


    Among the first things, the southerners set up defences facing Herbergja. They ced them far closer to the city than typical, with a distance of less than half a mile. From the walls, the defenders watched with concern. Besides palisades to guard against attack, the engineers of the besieging army were busy. Soldiers hauledrge amounts of timber along withplicated bits of machinery. Curiously, those with sharpest eyes noticed that a woman directed the works, acting as the engineer in charge.


    It took several days for the construction to finish. Safe behind a stockade, rising above the wooden defences, three trebuchets rose into the air. Once ready, the southerners began their bombardment.

 Chapter 236: Another Storm

    Chapter 236: Another Storm


    The walls of Herbergja were study. Built by Dwarven masons in ages past and reinforced by engineers from Fontaine. As the trebuchets beganunching their projectiles, the walls held against strike after strike. For weeks, boulders flew through the air from the besieging stone throwers, smashing against the fortifications. The precision was not always exact. At times, they fell short,nding in the moat or even further back. Some flew too far, crashing into the city beyond the walls to destroy roofs and houses, even causing death. Yet most hit their target.


    At night, working by torchlight, the defenders repaired as best they could. Stone was hewn into smaller pieces and carried away, reced by new pieces. This work carried its own risk. One night, the southerners made their way through the dark to send a barrage of arrows against the walls under repair, killing several masons. After that night, the defenders shot fire arrows onto the ground, allowing them to watch out for other sneak attacks.


    Regardless, repairing was slower work than destroying. Even as the defenders expended their dwindling stores of stone, they had to watch as their fortifications crumbled faster than they could restore them. Three weeks after the siege began, the south-western wall was breached.


    ~~~~


    As the stonework copsed, leaving arge gap, the mercenaries stood ready. They hastened forward, pushing great wicker screens ahead of them to defend against the arrows raining down from the towers. With them, they carried floating bridges, rolls of timber tied together, which they threw into the moat. With thatst obstacle out of the way, they stormed into the city.


    They were greeted by a host of spearmen. Approaching the walls under a hail of arrows and crossing the floating bridge left the mercenaries disorganised, in contrast with the disciplined Order soldiers awaiting them. Again and again, the attackers threw themselves against the garrison, but they simply could not break the shield wall. All the while, the stones broken over the weeks had been saved, and now the defenders pelted the southerners with them, throwing them from the walls. Every helmet struck this way caved in, leaving more bodies to fill the path and hinder progress.


    As several hundredy dead, the mercenaries admitted defeat. The horn blew, signalling to retreat. Victorious for now, the garrison rejoiced, harassing the enemy with arrows while possible. The first skirmish had been won, decisively, and the defenders breathed a sigh of relief.


    Safely within his own defensive structures, the prince watched the retreat. "It is too easy for them to defend," he muttered. "They know where we will strike. They have had all this time to prepare for incursion."


    "What do you wish done, sidi?" asked Adherbal by his side.


    Saif exhaled. "We need a feint."


    ~~~~


    Two dayster, on the morning, the southerners made another attack. They charged against the breach, using screens as before to guard against arrows. Unlike the first time, they did not rush; on the contrary, they seemed to move almost at a slow pace. Meanwhile, defenders gathered to repel the assault as before.


    Once there had been ample time for the garrison to send reinforcements towards the gap, there appeared another force, hitherto hiding behind the camp defences. They hurried forward on horses to close the distance between palisade and moat; behind them came several thousand footmen in quick march.


    Their goal was not the breach, but the southwestern gate and its drawbridge. They carried not only floating rafts, but also stormdders with them, bent on a surprise assault to seize the entry point and end the siege.


    While the handful of archers on the towers did their best to impede the assault, the southernersunched the timber bridges into the water. Thedders went up, striking against the wall. Shields on their back, the mercenaries climbed, defying projectiles from the defenders to scale the fortifications.


    Atst, they reached the top and crossed the stonework. As they leapt onto the wall, they stood face to face with all the knights still in Herbergja. Excelling in closebat and with all the advantages on their side, the Mearcians ughtered every southerner that reached the top. The marshal, who had guessed the feint, directed the fight from atop the gatehouse and watched with satisfaction as the mercenaries broke into a rout once again.


    ~~~~


    Saif slowly exhaled through his nose, watching across the distance where his soldiers retreated. "I suppose that would have been too easy."


    By his side, his aide cautiously spoke. "Yourmand, sidi?"


    Running his hand across his face, the prince spent a moment in contemtion. "When may we expect our ships to return?"


    "They should arrive with provisions within the week, if the wind is favourable."


    "So be it. We must take the city from the sea."


    "Very well, sidi."


    "Any news from the inds?"


    "They still fight, ording to ourtest intelligence. We need not fear their fleet will interfere before our ships return," Adherbal exined. "Though there is another matter."


    "What is it?"


    The aide hesitated. "A messenger arrived earlier today. I did not wish to bring you the news until the battle had been decided."


    "Hurry on and tell me," Saif dered with an irritated look.


    "Our allies in Adalrik have been defeated."


    The prince stared at him. "You mean their assault upon the city failed?"


    Adherbal swallowed. "More than that. Their army is in flight. The siege is lifted."


    Saif gave a despondent look across the open field towards the city, filled with his retreating soldiers. "Are you saying that all the armies of Adalmearc are marching against us?"


    "Not all, sidi. Some pursue the Godking''s forces as they flee. But certainly we must expect reinforcements to be sent against us."


    "How old is this intelligence?"


    "Difficult to say, sidi, the details were sparse. More than a week old. But it would take any army weeks to march from Middanhal to here," Adherbal replied.


    "They may travel down the river at great speed," Sidi pointed out. "Very well. If we are to make no assaults for the time being, that leaves the men free to fortify our camp towards the east. Otherwise, pray that our ships arrive first."


    "It shall be done, sidi."

 Chapter 237: Ships on the Horizon

    Chapter 237: Ships on the Horizon


    A lone ship sailed down the Mihtea into the delta where the river met the sea. Ahead, the city of Herbergja could be seen. Before that, the defences built by the besieging army. Chains stretched across the roaring stream to prevent vessels from passing while also protecting a primitive bridge. On both riverbanks, soldiers of Alczar kept watch.


    At the prow and above the sail, the ship flew banners with the head of a horse, signalling the intention to seek negotiations. Although a Mearcian symbol, the mercenaries knew it and kept their arrows in the quiver. Instead, they hailed the ship and gestured for it to make anchor.


    Besides the crew, all looking nervous, twenty kingthanes stood scattered across the deck, staring at the southerners, who returned the res. Lastly, four women also appeared from below, dressed in rich clothes.


    The kingthanes leapt ashore and ced boards to bridge the gap between ship andnd, helping the women to disembark. As the mercenaries gathered in a semicircle, keeping them hemmed in, a lieutenant stepped forward from their ranks.


    "Youe under the g of truce," he spoke, nodding to the banner on the ship. "Who are you?"


    "I am Lady Arndis of Adal, sister to the high king of Adalmearc," came the reply. "I am here on his behalf to seek terms with yourmander. I ask that you bring me to him without dy and cease hostilities until our negotiations are at an end."


    ~~~~


    An hourter, the prince Saif received his guests in his great tent. "Lady Arndis," he spoke, giving a bow as thedy entered. His expression froze as he saw herpanion. "Jana," he added hoarsely.


    "Already useful," Arndis whispered to Jana before she bowed. "My lord prince, I am grateful to be received by you. You know thedy Jana, of course."


    "I was not told you would be here," Saif remarked.


    "Your men would not recognise her, I suppose, and I did not reveal it. Why spoil the surprise?" Arndis smiled.


    "Is this a gift meant to soften my father?" asked the prince.


    "I havee as I know both sides in this conflict," Jana replied, "hoping to bring conciliation."


    "A vain hope, given your very presence is a reminder of the insult paid to Alczar by your disappearance, "Saif retorted.


    "Yet I am told you are a reasonable man and a wise leader," Arndis interjected. "I have my brother''s authority to offer you peace on fair terms."


    Saif crossed his arms. "Very well. Let us hear them."


    "In exchange for your immediate withdrawal of all troops from Adalmearc, he will seek no rpense. Trade and rtions may resume as before the war," Arndis exined.


    "Meagre terms considering I have seen only victories and the city of Portesur is in my hands," Saif replied.


    "Because you have yet to meet resistance. If the king must march here with his armies and inflict defeats upon you, he will not offer such lenient terms afterwards."


    "Bold words. If only such were enough to win a war."


    "You may take your time to deliberate your answer, of course," Arndis offered.


    "Mydy, I need only a moment to tell you that your proposal is rejected. Yet I am not ungracious, and I will offer you terms that you may bring to Herbergja."


    Arndis ced her hands behind her back. "I am listening."


    "If the city surrenders before this time tomorrow, there shall be no looting. They will be required to provide provisions, but nothing more," Saif dered.


    "I shall take your terms to the marshal," Arndis agreed. "You shall have your answer soon."


    "Adherbal, ensure suitable transportation for thedies to enter the city."


    "Yes, sidi."


    Arndis bowed her head and left. Jana kept Saif''s gaze for a moment. "Farewell, Brother."


    Once alone, the prince turned towards his advisor. "What are the chances that the city surrenders?"


    "Close to none," Adherbal admitted. "Our assaults have had little effect. They have no reason to fear us yet."


    "Not until the ships return," Saif mumbled.


    "Sidi, what of your sister?" The advisor hesitated briefly. "To have her returned will reflect well on you, both to your father and the soldiers. The mamluks especially feel wounded that a member of the Kabir''s family was stolen from under their noses."


    "She is under the protection of their king, a member of his delegation," the prince considered. "If I take her by force, it will hurt the possibility to negotiate peaceter. Once the city is in our hands."


    "Very well, sidi."


    ~~~~


    The women remained silent as they rode to Herbergja, surrounded by both kingthanes and mercenaries as their escort. Once they reached the gate, the southerners turned back along with the horses they had lent the Mearcians. On foot, the delegation crossed the drawbridge to enter the beleaguered city.


    Their progress through the streets drew stares, as could be expected; the sight of twenty thanes wearing the surcoat of the high king encouraged spection. From windows and doorways, the inhabitants muttered and wondered. They had no trouble making their way to the Order castle, as the roads were mostly empty. None lingered outside; the people only braved the streets for errands, hurrying to their destinations.


    Once they reached the fortress, servants quickly offered them seats and drink, which the fourdies epted with gratitude. It did not take long for the marshal to join them. "I am Sir Asger," he introduced himself, giving a bow. The noblewomen rose to reciprocate the courtesy, though Gwen did so with a grumbling face.


    "My admiration, sir marshal, for your defence of the city," replied the king''s sister. "I am Lady Arndis of Adal."


    The knight looked from her to Jana. "I had been told that Adalbrand Arnarson had been made high king, but I found it hard to believe."


    "You may believe it," Arndis told him curtly.


    "I do. After all, I see hispanion before me as the king''s envoy," Asger said.


    Jana gave a faint smile. "A pleasure to meet you again, though the circumstances are grim."


    "They are," the marshal admitted, "but if an exile can be king, perhaps the gods have good intentions for the rest of us too."


    "I am sure," Arndis interjected. "We have spoken to the captain of the southern armies. They demand your immediate surrender, which obviously is uneptable."


    "Obviously," Asger reiterated. "Yet while I appreciate your attempts to find terms with our enemy, I had hoped the high king would send soldiers, not only envoys."


    "A relief army is on the march," Arndis reassured him. "We travelled faster, but they should arrive before long."


    "How strong?"


    "About ten thousand, I believe, and more wille," she exined.


    "That will not discourage them from attacking," the marshal imed with dismay. "They have three times that number. I would suggest you leave, Lady Arndis, with your entourage. Once they attack, I cannot guarantee your safety."


    "We got time," Gwen suddenly said. "They''re not nning an attack right now."


    "How do you know?" asked Asger with a frown.


    "When we arrived, they were building defences to the east. Against the relief army that''sing," she exined. "If they expected to take the city in a day or two, they wouldn''t bother with extensive preparations to defend their camp."


    "Curious," the marshal considered, stroking his full beard. "They have yet to attack the harbour, which is our weak point. If they do not n to attack soon, the exnation must be their ships are busy in transport."


    "What fortune," Eleanor eximed, looking relieved.


    "Still, if that is the case, we should expect an assault as soon as they are ready. Again, you should consider leaving the city," Asger impressed upon them.


    "Not yet. I am here to buy every day we can," Arndis dered. "We will stay for now."


    "Oh dear," Eleanor spoke softly, and Jana squeezed her hand.


    "As you wish. For now, tell me all you saw at their camp," the marshal bade them.


    Thedies looked at each other and began rting everything.


    ~~~~


    The next day, the Mearcians sent a brief reply rejecting the terms offered by Alczar. Already expected, this changed little. The besiegers continued to build their defences in anticipation of the relief army, while the garrison repaired their walls as best they could, dreading the appearance of sails on the horizon.


    It took another two days before hope was rewarded one side and dashed on the other. Sailing down the Mihtea in every vessel they could gather, an army under the duke of Belvoir appeared. Theynded several miles east of the blockade made by the mercenaries, avoiding any skirmish. Swiftly, they began setting up their own camp and defences in preparation of assisting the beleaguered city.

 Chapter 238: The Payment for Time

    Chapter 238: The Payment for Time


    Smoke signals on the foothills of the Weolcans brought the message to Herbergja that the relief army had arrived. The same day, Arndis found the marshal in his chambers. "It is time to offer a truce again," she spoke. "With the relief army, our argument is strengthened."


    "Every day you may buy is precious," Asger agreed, "though I am unsure if they will listen. They will know Belvoir is greatly outnumbered and in no position to end the siege."


    "Nheless, I intend to try. How much time would you ask for, within reason?"


    The marshal scratched his beard. "With two weeks, we might have luck to slip past their ships and bring stone back from the quarries. Another two weeks to use it on the harbour walls."


    "I shall endeavour to give you that much."


    "Anything less will still be a blessing. I will have a carriage and horses readied for you and your retinue," Asger told her. "If you are able to spot any signs of their ships, that will be valuable to know."


    "I will keep an eye out," she promised. "I shall tell my guards to do the same."


    He inclined his head. "Very well, mydy. I know the people of the city are grateful for your efforts."


    She gave a magnanimous smile. "It is my duty, after all."


    ~~~~


    "The northerners have sent their envoy again, sidi," Adherbal said as he entered the prince''s tent. "They must be aware of the army''s arrival."


    "The smoke we saw in the hills," Saif considered.


    "Shall I allow them entry?"


    "Not yet," the prince bade him. "Is there anything gained by negotiating with them? With the new threat on our nk, they will surely not be more inclined to surrender."


    "Indeed, sidi, that cannot be why they havee." The advisor folded his hands in front of him. "They might hope we are inclined to ept peace, but given this relief army is not strong enough to engage us, they must know we are not inclined either."


    "What then? A simple attempt to spy on our camp?"


    "In their position, I would seek to buy time, sidi," Adherbal considered. "Have some excuse to cease hostilities for the time being."


    The prince sent his counsellor a doubtful look. "Why would I ever agree to such? Are they fools to think I would sit idle while they strengthen their defences?"


    "Certainly, as time passes, they gather more troops. But ourtest news from their capital says the northern king has gone east with his veterans," Adherbal replied. "It will be months before he can reach us, and this peasant rabble is of little threat."


    "So? We gain nothing by waiting."


    "Not necessarily, sidi. With a truce, we might greatly strengthen our defences to the east. And our fleet will have time to make another trip, gathering our final troops still awaiting arrival."


    Saif frowned. "It feels like ying into their hands, giving them time. We cannot wait forever. If the northern king arrives with his full army, we will be destroyed."


    "There is another threat to consider," Adherbal countered.


    "Which is?"


    "The ind fleet."


    "I remember the news. The queen has taken her brother captive. Surely that should only encourage us to hurry our assault?" Saif considered.


    "Or we should take advantage of this truce to sail ourst troops north before the inder ships raid our lines and winter storms keep our fleet trapped in harbour," Adherbal pointed out. "If we do not transport those troops now, we may not get another chance."


    "What if the inder ships prevent us from assaulting the harbour?" Saif countered. "If we wait, we might lose our only opportunity to take the city."


    "That is the risk," Adherbal admitted. "Against this must be weighed that the city must also be held once we take it. Another ten thousand mercenaries could determine whether we seed or fail."


    The prince let out his breath. "Dy or act? What would you advise me to do?"


    The advisor chewed on his lip. "Sooner orter, the northern king will march on us. I think once he does, Your Highness will want every soldier at his side."


    "I see."


    "Shall I permit the envoy inside?"


    "Not yet. Go and speak with her of idle matters. Give me time to think."


    "Yes, sidi."


    ~~~~


    At length, Arndis was led into the prince''s tent. He greeted her politely and gestured for a servant to offer a drink and a seat.


    "My thanks," she replied, epting both. "I appreciate your hospitality."


    "Ourst meeting was curt, I admit," Saif responded, taking a seat himself while Adherbal moved to stand behind him. "Even in war, courtesy is important."


    "Perhaps especially so."


    The prince gave a brief smile. "True. But you havee to discuss greater matters, I surmise."


    "I have. I seek to reach a peace settlement with you, honoured prince, and end this war."


    "I fear your journey is wasted," Saif responded. "Unless the city surrenders, we have nothing further to discuss."


    "I see." Arndis took a moment to think. "If notsting peace, might we agree upon a truce?"


    "Why should such a thing take ce?"


    "The hostilities have kept us from celebrating summer solstice," Arndis exined. Adherbal''s face twitched briefly. "A respite would also let us both bury our dead and treat our wounded without fear of renewed fighting."


    "We are perfectly capable of doing that," Saif replied. "And your customs are not our issue."


    "In exchange for a truce of six weeks, I will offer you something otherwise beyond your reach."


    "You would be fortunate to get three weeks," the prince dered. "What is your offer?"


    "Your sister."


    ~~~~


    Some hours after her departure, Arndis returned to the Order castle in Herbergja. She was met in the courtyard by the marshal and herpanions, looking at her with various degrees of apprehension.


    "What did they say?" asked Asger.


    Dismounting, Arndis let her eyes nce from the knight to the other women. "They agreed to a month under two conditions."


    "Which are?"


    "They will not allow any to enter or leave the city during the truce. Any attempts to do so will be blocked and considered a breach," Arndis exined.


    "To be expected. They would never let us bring troops or supplies in," Asger considered. "But a few small boats at night to the quarries... and the other?"


    The noblewoman looked at Jana. "They demand that the Kabir''s daughter is returned to them to mend the slight done to Alczar."


    "Madness," eximed Eleanor. "Surely you rejected this outright?"


    "I agreed to consider it, if nothing else to make another day pass," Arndis replied.


    Meanwhile, Jana''s face had gone pale. "Pardon me," she mumbled and turned around to hurry inside the castle.


    "Oh dear," Eleanor said.


    "I will speak with her," Arndis dered, giving the marshal a reassuring look.


    She followed in Jana''s footsteps, walking inside. She went up the winding stairs to reach the chambers that the noblewomen shared. Cautiously pushing the door open to an inner room, she found Jana sitting on her bed.


    "I am sorry," Arndis imed. "This cannot be easy for you."


    "I do not wish to go back," Jana breathed.


    The other woman sat down next to her. "I understand. Nobody here wants you to leave. But I had to bring back the terms they offered."


    "What will happen if I do not leave?"


    "They will attack. They will take the city, most likely. It cannot hold."


    "But the relief army arrived," Jana argued.


    "It is not strong enough," Arndis exined. "More troops are needed, including those from Thusund. That will take time, which we cannot get any other way."


    "I do not know what my father will do if I go back." Jana looked away, hiding her face.


    "It is a heavy burden to ce on you." Arndis took a deep breath. "But if those mercenaries enter the city, sacking and looting..."


    "How long until Brand might arrive?"


    "He would only have entered the Reach by now. Even if he turned back and hurried here, he would be months away," Arndis exined. "You are the only hope for this city." She ced one hand on Jana''s shoulder.


    "They require an answer tomorrow?"


    "Yes."


    Jana steadied her breathing. "I will do it. Tomorrow. Let me have until then."


    "Of course." Arndis rose. "I shall tell the marshal of your courage." Squeezing, Jana''s shoulder, she rose and left the room.


    Left alone, thedy of Alczar sat for a while as if paralysed. Finally, she rose and entered another room. It had a writing desk with supplies, allowing thedies to write letters. Sitting down, blinking her tears away, Jana took the quill and began writing.


    ~~~~


    The next day, several horses stood saddled in the courtyard of the Order castle. Several kingthanes waited by them, and much of the garrison had gathered as well to watch the departure. Finally, the four noblewomen came from the keep, escorted by the marshal.


    "You once came to warn us of danger," Asger spoke to Jana, "and now you leave to keep us safe. It shall not be forgotten." He bowed his head low.


    "Thank you, sir knight," thedy replied hoarsely.


    "I will miss you," Eleanor sniffed, giving the other woman a hug.


    "Likewise." Taking a deep breath, Jana walked over the horse that awaited her.


    "With your leave, mdy, I''d like to stay with you," said the kingthane holding the reins of her steed.


    "That is not needed, Sandar, but thank you."


    "If it''s the same to you, I''ll do it even so. If the king was here, it''s what he''d want." Looking into the ground, the thane shifted his weight from leg to leg. "It doesn''t feel right leaving you all alone."


    "If that is how you feel, I will not dissuade you." Taking an offered hand from her protector, Jana mounted the horse. As the garrison gave a salute, cing their fists on their chests, the small procession rode out.

 Chapter 239: No Shelter

    Chapter 239: No Shelter


    With the promise of temporary peace, a flurry of activity ensued for the next month. Small vessels sailed under the cover of night, evading the few ships from Alczar on patrol to reach the quarries by the Weolcan mountains. Returning with a bounty of stone, the defenders repaired their walls and strengthened the harbour defences. Other preparations were made as well. The fletchers worked every hour to make arrows, the smiths repaired armour and made new weapons, and the engineers built defensive machines.


    The besiegers did not stay idle either. As soon as ships arrived, unloading troops and supplies, they turned south to fetch more. From Portesur and Fortnn, they gathered every avable soldier and every piece of grain. Meanwhile, they dug trenches and raised earthworks to the east, improving their defences considerably. Another bridge across the Mihtea was built along with further fortifications on the northern bank, solidifying their control.


    After thirty days, both attackers and defences set aside their tools and took up arms instead.


    ~~~~


    The first fighting urred to the east. While ten thousand mercenaries held the camp against any sortie from the garrison, thirty thousand more marched against Belvoir''s relief forces. Some hours after dawn, they shed. Rather than a single battle, the southerners spread out across the contestednd between their camps, forcing the Mearcians to spread their inferior numbers in the same manner.


    Skirmishes erupted everywhere under skilful control by the mercenaries. In ces where the defenders had strong fortifications, they made only brief attacks before retreating, tying those troops down. Crude vessels sailed down the Mihtea, threatening tond beyond the outer defences, drawing more soldiers.


    Meanwhile, cavalry rode south before turning east and finally north, circumventing most of the defenders. Reaching their opponents, they made quick strikes against the Mearcian lines, who scrambled to face this new enemy, before retreating again. In this manner, they hit Belvoir''s forces repeatedly on several fronts, only taking longer engagements where it was favourable.


    For the first hour, the duke himself stayed in camp, directing reinforcements as needed. Once those ran out, he moved troops from one front to another as he deemed necessary. In the second hour, he joined the fray in person, leading his own retinue against the mercenary cavalry to even the fight. In the third hour, he gave the order to begin the retreat rather than risk his men fleeing senselessly.


    They did so with discipline, pulling back from the battlelines as directed, supporting each other to prevent a rout. Still the mercenaries hounded them, ensuring there could be no opportunity they might hold their camp. Mile after mile, the Mearcians pulled back until the southernmanders were finally satisfied. They returned to their own tents, preparing for the next day.


    ~~~~


    With the relief army pushed back, Prince Saif readied his troops the following morning for the final assault on Herbergja. Troops marched out on both sides of the river, threatening the walls. Meanwhile, the majority of soldiers boarded the galleys waiting by the shore. With many oars and ves, the ships were fast and manoeuvrable, even without the favour of wind.


    At first, the fleet sailed into open waters rather than follow the coastline. Once away, they moved north before finally turning east, headed directly for the harbour of Herbergja.


    ~~~~


    Inside the city, the garrison stood ready, expecting to be attacked once the truce expired. Even with troops sighted beyond the walls, the marshal kept most of his soldiers back; once ships were seen on the horizon, he sent them to defend the harbour.


    A wall separated the port from the city itself, which the castle formed part of. Beyond that, the fortifications stretched out into the sea to surround the piers, protecting the ships inside. The ck-d soldiers now streamed out to fill all these defences, their eyes staring west. Little by little, the enemy vessels grew in size, as did the sense of unease seen on the soldiers'' face. Scores of ships could be seen, filled to the brim with enemies.


    The silence was shattered once they came within range. On the two outermost towers thaty at the end of the walls in the sea, a ballista released. The great spears flew through the air before tearing through several men, who died with dreadful screams. The Order soldiers roared in response, readying themselves for battle.


    Arrows soon followed from both sides. With crions and shields, the defenders fared better; yet the outer walls were thin, allowing only few soldiers to fill them, and reinforcements could not arrive in time to replenish the losses. With skilled manoeuvres by the captains, the galleys approached the outer fortifications and turned sideways. Numerous grappling hooks flew through the air,tching onto the stonework, anddders fell down to bridge the gap. Shouting their battle cries, the mercenaries scaled the walls.


    Meanwhile, other ships sailed straight for the entrance to the harbour. Ignoring therge spear throwers on the outer towers, the galleys swept forward. The drums beat a swift pace, and the ves pulled their oars dutifully. Soldiers that outnumbered the garrison ten to one stood ready to overwhelm the city.


    Sir Asger, standing on the parapet of the castle, gave amand. A banner by his side conveyed the message. By the pier, a vessel was unmoored and set adrift, sailing towards the harbour entrance. An archer shot a fire arrow, igniting the craft. Withmp oil poured across its deck, the mes quickly spread.


    The banner atop the parapet repeated the message. Another vessel was pushed away, soon to be set ame. And another. Soon, the harbour was full of ships on fire. They did not burn long before revealing their cargo holds were filled with oil as well. Some of them burned too quickly, sinking before they reached the enemy galleys. Others burned too slow, and the mercenaries used long poles to keep them away. A few burned exactly right that the exploding congration spread to the attacking ships.


    Navigating through the ming shipwrecks, the galleys pushed on. This ced them within range of the catapults on the castle. Stones rained down. As the ships finally reached the piers, Order soldiers stood ready to face them, fighting in tight quarters. While their defenders fought, the citizens of Herbergja sat behind locked doors, praying to all the gods to be spared.


    ~~~~


    The assault continued throughout the day. The outer walls fell. But they proved only narrow pathways into the city, which the garrison blocked or defended with ease. In the harbour itself, ming debrisy scattered across the water, hindering the galleys. As night arrived, further attacks became unsustainable. In the darkness, they dared not sail the ships further in, unable to avoid the many dangers that awaited hull and oar. The retreat was called; the soldiers already onnd were left behind to die or surrender.


    ~~~~


    Once the ships had returned south the day after, the prince called a council of his mercenary captains.


    "How did we fail?" Saif asked with a harsh look at themanders, who all wore grim faces.


    "We ran out of time," one of them exined. "They turned the harbour into a trap. Once night fell, it became impossible to navigate."


    "They must have had the whole garrison ready for us," another argued. "They knew we posed no threat bynd."


    "Don''t cast me on us," came the swift response from the captain, whosepany had been positioned onnd. "We did as we should."


    "Which was not much."


    "What did you expect? We have no breaches in the walls, and the moat is in our way."


    "Enough," Saif intervened. "We underestimated their defences at the harbour. We must attack on several fronts, next time."


    "We need the stone throwers to breach the walls as they did before. Not just to the south, but also to the east."


    "That will take weeks. Attacking the eastern walls means establishing a permanent camp north of the river."


    "Youin because you would have to do real work."


    "How dare you! My men led the first attack on the breach."


    "Again, not aplishing much."


    "Quiet!" Saif stared from one captain to another. "We have the numbers on our side. We simply need to be able to use them. We will build stone throwers north of camp in addition to those we already have." He looked towards Adherbal, who nodded in confirmation.


    "Very well, Your Highness." Themanders muttered their assent.


    "We will make our next assault once we can attack the city from every side."


    Another round of murmurs indicated agreement, and the captains left the tent, as did Adherbal, rying themand. Later that day, argepany of soldiers crossed the Mihtea to construct a permanent camp. Engineers soon followed, beginning the assembly of siege machinery.

 Chapter 240: Between the Trees

    Chapter 240: Between the Trees


    As the Kingsroad travelled north from Middanhal, one arm ran west through the jarldom of Isarn. It passed into Vidrevi, eventually parting again; one direction went north to Hareik, the other continued further west to reach Trehaf and the sea. These were the only major cities in the forest realm; most of the remaining poption were spread across viges and small towns. Thus, nearly all traffic took ce on the Kingsroad. Timber for Trehaf, copper to Middanhal, and furs in both directions. Even in the outstretched, scarcely poptednd of Vidrevi, trade connected it to the rest of Adalmearc.


    At the crossroads where the Kingsroad split north and west, an unfamiliar sight could be found. An army of far greater size than anything Vidrevi could mustery encamped, and still it was but a small part of the full might wielded by the high king. Twenty thousand Order soldiers and one thousand knights had spent thest months marching from the Reach, crossing the distance at great speed.


    The price could be seen in their haggard faces and weary demeanours. As soon as the campsite had been reached and tents raised, none spent time gambling with cards or dice. Conversation was scarce and brief, and nobody bothered with warm meals, eating twice-baked bread only to seek sleep immediately after. Had an enemye upon them, they would have found soldiers unready. But between the Weolcan mountains to the south and the Alfskog to the north, no force could be found to threaten the Order army. The men closed their eyes without worry, savouring every moment of rest.


    ~~~~


    In the king''s tent, a few remained awake. Brand sat on a simple chair, soaking his hard bread in diluted wine. William took the other seat in the tent while Gebericy snoring on the ground; by the entrance, ukos kept watch.


    "A messenger from Queen Svana reached us today. They will be ready," the lord marshal rted.


    "Good." Brand''s eyescked any lustre and looked as hollow as his cheeks. "That leaves only waiting for King Folkmar." He took a slow bite out of his bread.


    "He should be here tomorrow," William said.


    "Early, I hope for his sake. We may still march half a day if he does not waste my time."


    "The men will be happy with even half a day''s rest. Warm meals and fresh bread will do them good."


    "Sure." The king took a sip from his wine even as he seemed to stare into the air.


    "We will make it in time," William imed. "You need not worry."


    "I just do not understand," Brand replied. "Why did they not return? What possessed Arndis to stay?"


    "She must have believed further negotiations could help. She did gain a month''s truce, which is longer than any of us would have thought."


    "I suppose."


    "You should sleep, my king. We still have days ahead of us before Trehaf."


    "You as well."


    The knight bowed his head and left.


    ~~~~


    The next day, a procession reached the Order army. Fifty warriors on horseback surrounded their charge, King Folkmar of Vidrevi. Arriving from Hareik, the king rode into camp. The sight of the richly adorned men attracted stares, but only briefly; half the soldiers were busy cooking food, and the other half still slept.


    A kingthane wearing the golden dragon led Folkmar and his retinue through the camp. He chose a circuitous route that gave the forester king a full impression of the army''s size before they reached thergest tent in the camp.


    The protectors of the two kings exchanged stares, but in the end, Folkmar entered with two guards; Brand likewise had two thanes by his side. He rose in greeting. "Wee, King Folkmar."


    "I could say the same. You are camped in mynd." He stood nearly as tall as Brand, with a neat beard of brown hair. A healthy glow in his cheeks spoke of days spent hunting and riding. In contrast, the drakonian king looked worn as he beheld his vassal.


    "Not for long. We will soon march on."


    "Good. Now what is the reason you asked me here? I am not in the habit of travelling from my home without knowing the cause," Folkmar spoke with a hard expression.


    "Yet you came," Brand remarked. "I have questions concerning your conduct and allegations that Vidrevi have lent aid to the enemies of Adalmearc."


    "Ridiculous," came the reply. "I have done no such thing."


    "Nor did you send aid when Middanhal stood under siege."


    "Your message arrived toote."


    "You will have time to exin yourself in a few months'' time," Brand continued. "As the custom dictates, I expect to find you present and kneeling at my coronation."


    "And if not? Will you wage yet another war even as the other realms still cry out from plunder, taxes, and conscription?"


    "I doubt that will be needed. I will send two thousand soldiers with you when you return to Hareik, and leave one thousand behind in Trehaf," Brand exined. Despite his weary appearance, he stood unbowed, and determination filled his eyes.


    "You have no right to do so!"


    "I have every right," the high king retorted. "Vidrevi is a part of the alliance of Adalmearc."


    "Is that why you bid mee? To shackle me with prison guards?"


    "I summoned you to see whether you woulde. If you had not, I would have sent four thousand."


    Folkmar stared with rising anger. "This is not yournd. Your soldiers are not wee here."


    "If you have grievances, you may share them in Middanhal when the timees," Brand dered. "For now, I have a war to end. You are dismissed."


    "Do not presume this matter is closed," replied the king of Vidrevi with a menacing voice. He turned and left the tent without dy, followed by his guards.


    Brand looked at Geberic, barely affording a nce to Folkmar as thetter disappeared. "Tell them to break camp. We march."


    The order quickly spread. With experienced speed, the soldiers packed and stowed everything away. Within the hour, the army continued its march west towards Trehaf.

 Chapter 241: The Prized City

    Chapter 241: The Prized City


    The counterweight was released. The arm of the stone thrower swung with terrible force, releasing a boulder. It flew across the air to strike the wall of the city, causing stone to crumble. With groans, the soldiers pulled the arm back, raising the counterweight into the air, before it became locked in ce. Another projectile was dragged over and ced into the pouch.


    The prince watched his siege machinery bombard the city. They had done so for weeks, resuming the pattern of daily attacks and nightly rebuilds. As a voice called out, he turned his head towards the sound.


    "Your Highness," Adherbal spoke, approaching his master.


    "What is it?"


    "The northerners have sent a request. Their envoy wishes to speak with you again."


    "Denied. There will be no truce, no exchange of prisoners, nothing until the city falls," the prince dered.


    "Very well. I shall tell the messenger of your decision," replied the aide.


    "Have the ships returned yet?"


    "No, sidi. I shall let you know as soon as the patrol returns."


    The prince hesitated as he spoke again. "How many shipments will we need if the siege is tost through winter?"


    "Several, sidi. Our provisions right now will onlyst the next few months. I can give you the numbers once I am back in your tent."


    "Any word from our spies in the great city?"


    "Nothing new sincest, sidi. The king has marched north to deal with his vassal."


    Saif sighed. "At least if he stays there, we might still win this siege." He turned to look from the city at his aide. "Go and make your calctions. I will be with you soon."


    ~~~~


    At all times, arge number of mercenaries stood watch throughout the siege camp, which by now spread across a vast area. Besides a long line of defences to protect the siege engines against sorties from the city, the southerners also had to guard against raids made by Belvoir''s forces, who avoidedrge engagements and sought out minor skirmishes instead. Finally, several thousand soldiers manned the many ships that blockaded Herbergja and transported supplies from further south.


    Still, this left more than half the mercenaries idle at any given time. They passed the hours as soldiers always did, gambling coin, sharing tales, and eating when the opportunity presented itself. Throughout the camp, plenty of small gatherings could be seen, usually around a pot boiling water for soup, tea, or the like.


    "You think the ships will bring us anything other than grain?" asked a soldier at one such gathering. "I''m tired of bread."


    "I''d pay good silver for a slice of meat," another admitted.


    "Let''s see if the ships arrive first," came a gloomy voice. Its owner scratched the scar on his forehead. "The ind savages are not to be underestimated. If they see an opportunity, they''ll take our ships and kill every man aboard."


    "Come now." Filling his cup with hot water from the pot with one hand, the speaker used the other to p his gloomypanion on the shoulder. "Have you seen their ships? They may be long, but they can''t have half as many soldiers onboard as our galleys."


    "That won''t help if they got three times as many ships," argued the scarred man.


    "They don''t. If they had that many, they''d just attack and sink our whole fleet."


    "They don''t in total numbers, sure. But their ships are faster than ours. They''ll choose when to attack, and no amount of drum beating will save our galleys," came the im.


    "Don''t pay him any heed, he''s always predicting doom."


    "I''ve not even begun," the scarred soldier protested.


    "Great, you got him started."


    "You heard about the northern king? He''s never lost a battle, even against armies twice the size. And we''re attacking his prized city." The morose warrior sent challenging looks in every direction, daring them to gainsay him.


    The others quickly obliged. "He''s far to the east, fighting another war, I heard."


    "Yeah, he''s months away from us. We''ll have the city soon enough."


    "And then we''ll eat our fill and stuff our sacks with gold!"


    A shake of head initiated the reply. "We''ll face winter soon, with the city on one side, hostile ships on the other, and an army to the east. It''s us that''s under siege." He scratched his scar again.


    "If that''s how you feel, why don''t you sod off in that direction?" A finger pointed towards Herbergja.


    He shrugged. "They wouldn''t pay me, would they."


    ~~~~


    In his tent, Saif stood bent over a map of the area lying on the table. It was highly detailed and clearly made by skilled hands. Creases and smudge showed it had been long in use, even before the army of Alczar arrived to begin the siege. Strips of parchmenty scattered around the map as well, containing numbers. Some described his soldiers, divided by the mercenarypanies along with his own mamluks; the other stripsy on the city, to the east, or in the water, giving an estimate of enemy troops.


    Staring at the map, Saif moved the pieces of parchment around, arranging them for an assault on Herbergja. His hand wavered betweennd and sea, choosing how many tomit to the different locations.


    His thoughts were interrupted by his aide, entering the tent with quick steps. "The ships have returned, sidi."


    "And?"


    "No sign of Mearcian ships."


    "Four days in a row. What would be your guess as to the reason?"


    "If we are fortunate, trouble on the inds. But I doubt it," Adherbal admitted.


    "What then?"


    "They might feel bold enough to attack our fleet. Or, given our troops are concentrated here, they might attempt to retake Portesur."


    Saif stroked his beard with a pensive expression. "If we must trade one city for another, so be it."


    "I would agree."


    "Tell the captains to prepare, and keep our ships here. Once we have breached the eastern wall, we make our assault."


    "Yes, sidi."


    "We finish this before winter."


    "As you say, sidi."

 Chapter 242: Coming to Terms

    Chapter 242: Coming to Terms


    It was a pleasant summer''s day. Gentle winds blew from the sea, bringing the taste of salt in the air. While the constant barrage from the stone throwers served as a permanent reminder of the siege elsewhere, matters were quiet on the harbour of Herbergja. In normal times, it would be bustling with activity and ships filling the port. Now, only soldiers moved around, and the piersy nearly empty after most vessels had been sacrificed to defend the harbour.


    A cry of rm broke the quiet. Sails in the distance. As they equipped themselves for battle, soldiers streamed from the castle to fill the harbour. Spear and stone throwers were prepared andmp oil ced in the remaining vessels, ready to be set ame. Row after row of ck-d soldiers stood on the walls, grasping weapons. As ship after ship appeared on the horizon, nobody spoke except muttered prayers.


    Suddenly, the quiet pleas became reced by rising murmur. The approaching ships were not galleys, but long and slender ording to northern custom. Finally, the wind caught the banner on the leading ship, unfurling it to reveal a golden dragon.


    A mour erupted in excitement. Soldiers broke down, falling to the ground in tears. Others ran through the streets, shouting the news. The fleet of Thusund hade, bearing the army of the high king to save the city.


    ~~~~


    Ship after ship entered the harbour. Crowds had gathered to see the sight for themselves. As the first vessel moored, a score of kingthanes disembarked to create a barrier. All eyes turned to the tall, gaunt figure that appeared next. He wore no crown, nor armour or weapons. His tunic was entirely ck; his cloak had same colour and insignia as worn by his thane. Walking from ship to pier, he looked grim in his countenance, paying no heed to the throng of people calling to him.


    "My king," spoke Sir Asger outside the ring of kingthanes.


    "Let him approach," Brandmanded, and the protectors stood aside to let the knight pass. He stepped forward only to kneel. "You may rise. Time is more important than gestures."


    The marshal did so. "A strange twist of fate to meet again under these circumstances," he dered, "but most joyous."


    "Yes. Is my sister and herpanions at the castle?"


    "They are, my king. I have prepared horses and an escort." Asger pointed towards a score of horses and twice the number of Order soldiers, keeping the crowd at bay.


    "Good." Brand and a number of thanes walked over to the horses, followed by the marshal. Behind them, the ships continued to enter the harbour, disgorging regiment after regiment of Order soldiers.


    ~~~~


    Soon after arrival, the king and his followers rode into the castle. Quickly dismounting, they were led by the marshal inside to the entrance hall, where three women stood waiting. With swift steps, Arndis closed the distance to embrace her brother.


    "We are so happy to see you," she eximed as she pulled back. "I never doubted you would reach us in time."


    "I did," Brand admitted. "Gwen. Lady Eleanor."


    "Cousin."


    "Your Majesty."


    He nced around. "Where is Jana?"


    The women exchanged looks. "She is not here," his sister said. "She left."


    "Alone? Where to? Middanhal?"


    Arndis took a deep breath. "She went to the siege camp."


    Confusion ran across Brand''s face before anger reced it. "What? Why?"


    "Brother, how do you think we bought a month''s truce?"


    He stared with eyes that grew narrow. "You bartered her away like a ve?"


    "It was her decision," Arndis argued. "And she saved us all. The city was hanging by a thread!"


    "Convenient," he sneered.


    "We needed time for reinforcements, or they would have overwhelmed us!" she continued.


    "It is true," the marshal admitted. "Thedy might very well have saved the city."


    "You sold her to save your skin," Brand spoke through gritted teeth, aimed at his sister.


    "Do not levy such usations at me! I stayed despite the danger, seeking to negotiate another truce, buy more time, save your subjects!" Arndis retorted.


    "She left this letter for you," Gwen interjected, pulling out an envelope to extend it towards Brand, who quickly grabbed it.


    "You had this the whole time and never mentioned it?" Arndis asked pointedly.


    Gwen shrugged. "She made me swear I''d ce it in his hands."


    Arndis began to speak again, but Brand raised one hand to silence his sister while he still stared at the letter in his hand. "Sir Asger, send a signal from the highest point in the city. Duke Belvoir will be waiting to hear of our arrival."


    "Yes, my king."


    "Show me to my chamber."


    The marshal gestured for a servant to approach, who gave a nervous bow and led the king away. Ascending stairs, they soon reached a chamber of modest luxury; the castle was meant for soldiers, not nobility. Dismissing the servant and his thanes, Brand opened the envelope to unfold the letter within.


    <em>Brand,</em>


    <em>Do not be angry with me. I did what all daughters of kings must do, buying peace by leaving their home. At least I was allowed to do this for your sake, of my own volition, rather than as my father''s pawn. The thought of this provides me sce even as I dread my departure from these shores. Despite all the dangers we faced in thesends, I always drew strength from your presence, and that gave me more courage than I ever thought I might possess. I shall need that courage now, and I pray the thought of you will provide it. Last we separated, it took many years before we met again. Maybe it will be so again, but I am sure we shall find each other, in this life or the next.</em>


    <em>Always yours,</em>


    <em>Jana al-Saqr</em>


    Brand sat down on the nearest surface, which turned out to be a table. With deep breaths, he began reading the letter once more, letting his eyes run over the words again and again.


    ~~~~


    The next morning, Prince Saif woke as his aide came bursting into the tent. "Your Highness!"


    "What?" he mumbled.


    "The northerners are marching out of the city. They are preparing for battle."


    Jumping out of bed, the prince tied his sword belt around him and grabbed a cloak. "The northern riverbank?"


    "No, sidi, follow!" Adherbal led his master out of the tent. "Theye from the southern gate. They are taking up formation outside the city, though they have yet to attack," he exined as they hastened through the camp.


    "Madness," Saif replied. "Their garrison is not one tenth of our forces. We will crush them."


    "There is more," his aide told him as they reached the defences of the camp. "We know where their ships went. To Vidrevi and back."


    "What does that mean?" asked the prince as they ran up the earthworks to stand on the rampart.


    Before their eyes, a host of ck-d soldiers spread out with hundreds of knights on the nks. Numerous banners of the Star flew in the air, and in front could be seen yet another standard. Adherbal gestured towards it as it showed a golden dragon. "Adalrik hase."


    ~~~~


    The southerners filled their ramparts, ready to defend. Still, the Mearcians showed no signs of attacking. From the Order army, three horses rode forward. One rider held the banner of the high king; another had a g with the head of a horse.


    From the ramparts, the prince emerged along with his aide and three mamluks, all on horseback. Both groups rode forward until they came close enough to speak.


    "This is His Royal Highness, Prince Saif of the House al-Saqr, firstborn son to the Kabir of Alczar, whose rule enlightens the world," Adherbal dered loudly that his voice would traverse the gap between them.


    "This is King Adalbrand. Dragon of Adalrik," Geberic replied, sounding less sure of himself. "He''s of the House of Adal, and, high king of Adalmearc." He cleared his throat. "He''se to negotiate terms with you."


    "Let us hear them," Saif responded.


    Brand dismounted and stepped forward. ukos quickly followed suit, making a small gesture for Geberic to remain where he was. "Let us approach each other," Brand suggested, "rather than shout."


    After a moment''s hesitation, the prince mirrored the king, leaving his horse behind; his aide did the same. "What is your proposal?" Saif asked.


    "I offer peace. You shall immediately withdraw all your forces from Mearcian soil. In return, I will seek no rpense. I will give certain trade concessions, and the peace between Adalmearc and Alczar shall be sealed through a royal marriage," Brand exined.


    "Those are even terms," the prince replied, "yet your fortresses and cities are in my hands. My army on this battlefield outnumbers yours. You present yourself as the magnanimous victor, but you have yet to achieve any victory."


    "Do you know my reputation, Prince Saif? The battles I have won?"


    "I have heard exaggerated rumours. Yet I see you do note d for war. You seem ill prepared." His eyes ran over Brand''s appearance. The king did not wear armour or weapons, nor a helmet. He had a cotton tunic suitable for a leisurely day, but hardly offering protection in battle.


    "Let me exin who I am that you might judge me better," Brand offered, switching to fluent Suthspeech. He rolled up one sleeve and ran a finger across a scar on his arm. "I received thisst year in your father''s dungeon."


    Doubt filled Saif''s face. "What is this?"


    Repeating his gesture with the other sleeve, Brand pointed out another scar. "And this." He ran his hand across his chest, tracing lines underneath the fabric. "And many more. Do you not recognise me, Prince Saif? Your father ordered your brother to interrogate me."


    "Impossible!"


    "Yet true. Last year, I awaited execution upon the maswar in Alczar. Now, I stand before you with the strongest armies in the world at mymand. The gods favour me, Prince Saif. That is who I am." Brand pulled his sleeves down. "I havee prepared, Prince Saif. As we speak, another army marches to threaten your camp from the east. Meanwhile, my ind fleet is ready to disembark soldiers south of your defences. You will be overrun from all sides."


    "Kind of you to reveal your strategy beforehand," Saif replied.


    "I say this so you will understand. If you seek battle, I will destroy you. Your previous victories are of no consequence. Your conquest ends today, either with peace or defeat."


    "Forgive me if I do not take your word for it," the prince retorted. "I have note this far only to turn back at mere threats."


    "Because if you do so, your father will cast you aside," Brand remarked, still speaking the southern tongue. "Yes, I know your position. I understand why you feel that you must refuse."


    "Then you also understand that unless you offer me better terms, there will be no peace."


    "I do. My offer is this. Take your army, sail home, and rece your father."


    Saif widened his eyes. "Are you mad?"


    "Your men know the situation as well as you do. They will owe their lives to you. Once you take your father''s ce, his treasury will pay the gold they in turn are owed," Brand pointed out. "Both the Council of Ten and the Hundred Houses will support you when you return with trade concessions."


    "You speak of betraying my father!"


    "Thereby saving your city. At best, this war incurs ruinous debts that Alczar cannot pay given your impending defeat andck of trade as a result. At worst, I march my armies south," Brand threatened. "The choice is between death or kingship. I cannot make it simpler for you."


    Adherbal leaned forward to whisper into his master''s ear. Saif parted his lips, hesitating before he spoke. "You will support me as the new Kabir?"


    Brand gave a measured nod. "I will. In addition, the union between our houses will give you prestige and pre-eminence throughout the Inner Sea."


    Saif exhaled. "I ept."


    "I have one condition that must be met," Brand added.


    "Which is?"


    "The union must be with Lady Jana, who will be released to me at once."


    "I cannot," the prince replied, "but I have plenty of other sisters."


    The king narrowed his eyes. "It will be her, or there shall be no peace."


    "But it is not possible, Your Majesty," Saif began to argue.


    "Take heed." Switching to Nordspeech, Brand''s voice became threatening. "If you keep her from me, I will not only annihte this army. I will destroy Alczar, tearing stone from stone until not a trace remains. Do you understand?"


    "But she is gone," Saif hurried to exin. "I sent her with the ships to Maleth. She will be waiting for a ship to bring her to Alczar. She may already have arrived there."


    Brand stared at the prince. "How will your father treat her?"


    "She has brought shame upon him," Saif admitted. "If he is inclined to mercy, he may marry her to a lowly courtier and dispatch them to some remote ce, hiding the shame. If not... Your Majesty, I cannot promise her to you. But that should not stand in the way of making peace."


    For a moment, Brand looked towards the west. Beyond the coast, the sea met the horizon. As all watched, waiting, he finally turned towards Saif again. "I will require your si ring. And your aide." He looked at Adherbal, who responded with a bewildered expression. "In exchange for peace on the stated terms. Do we have an agreement?" Brand extended his hand.


    The prince cast a look over his shoulder at his aide before he stepped forward, grasping the king''s arm. "We are agreed."

 Chapter 244: A Council of Kings

    Chapter 244: A Council of Kings


    A diminished army marched into Middanhal. Some troops had been left to man the Langstan, others in Vidrevi, Herbergja, or Ealond; only about ten thousand returned. Regardless, their entry proved a triumph. The entire city lined up along the Arnsweg to watch the victorious soldiers return from ending another war. The citizens from high to low cried out in jubtion, holding nothing back. Civil war, foreign invasion, siege  all threats had been defeated.


    At the head of the column rode the king, who seemed relieved as well; his countenance was no longer dour, and he found asion to smile. By his side rode the princess of Alczar, whose union with the king would ensuresting peace with the South Cities. The details had been lost to rumours, but all knew that she had saved Herbergja through sacrifice, even if none could agree how. Regardless, the drakonians bid her wee as a mirror of the affection they witnessed their king show her.


    Even as the troops passed by on their march to the Citadel, the excitement did not end. The return of the army would only be the beginning of festivities. No less than a threefold celebrationy ahead. Soon, the city would mark the end of war, the coronation of the high king, and a royal wedding. With this knowledge, the citizens of Middanhal flooded the streets, giving in to unbridled exuberance.


    ~~~~


    Every tavern in Lowtown was crowded on this eve, but none so more than where the king''spanions gathered. The rooms were so packed, trouble seemed brewing constantly; thankfully, the aforementioned and well-armedpanions knew how to keep the peace. Many came simply to gawk at the warriors, who came from across the Seven Realms. Hignders and heathmen mingled with drakonians and others.


    "Haki!" shouted Geberic, waving an inder towards their table. Pushing through the packed room, the housecarl made his way to him. "Did youe alone?"


    Haki stepped aside to reveal the stocky ukos behind him, who had followed in his footsteps. "This is your mead hall?" The inder cast a doubtful nce around the room.


    "One of theds is married to the owner''s daughter," Geberic exined, "so we drink at half price, hah!" He emptied his tankard. "You didn''t bring ric?"


    ukos fell into a chair. "Busy at the castle."


    "His loss." Geberic turned towards Haki, who had also taken a seat. "What''s your queen think of our city? Quite a sightpared to Dvaros, isn''t it?"


    "Too many mountains, not enough sea," the inder replied tly. "We''ll be d once the coronation is done and we can go home."


    Ellen appeared, deftly cing full mugs of ale on the table before disappearing. "You''re a treasure and too good for Nichs!" Geberic shouted after her.


    Leaning back, ukos grabbed his drink. "Two, three years ago, I worked as a guard in a tavern like this. Now I am the king''s champion."


    "What''s your point?" asked Geberic.


    "No matter how my fortunes change, I am stuck with the samepany."


    Haki raised his tankard. "I''ll drink to that!"


    ~~~~


    Over the next days, the remaining kings and queens of Adalmearc arrived at Middanhal for the coronation. A banquet was held to bid them wee; the Citadel had not hosted so many guests of prominence since the ascension of thest high king many decades prior. All the banners of the Seven Realms hung on the walls, with a table for each ruler and their attendants. The servants could barely move through the hall given the number of kingthanes, Queen''s des, housecarls, galligh, and other guards present.


    At the high table, the king sat where expected. To his right hand, he had Lady Jana of Alczar; his dragonlord, the jarl of Theodstan, took the left seat. In a good mood, the king spoke easily with hispanions, even exchanging jests; some of the deep lines in his brow were gone. Behind the table, Geberic filled his master''s cup while ukos stood guard along with Sandar. Further down the table, the king''s sister had been ced.


    Once the meal had been served and cups filled, the king''s favourite minstrel was given full attention. With sweeping bows in every direction, Troy began performing his most recent work.


    "From beyond the wall they came


    Death and conquest as their aim


    Thralls they''d make of men once free


    From the heath to western sea


    Called by malice or by fate


    Host of spears before the gate


    Garments made with crimson thread


    And they dyed the Valmark red."


    ~~~~


    The next day, the king received his lord marshal in his chamber. "Thetest troop movements have been confirmed, my king," William said. "All the southerners are gone, reced by your soldiers. From Hareik to the Langstan, the Order safeguards the realms. Yet, if I may..."


    "Speak."


    "Trouble already brewed in the Reach when we left. Sooner orter, the Dwarves will turn to Adalmearc for help. Or the ounders will demand we prevent more settlers from arriving," William considered. "What shall we do?"


    "For now, we send what remains of our soldiers to the Langstan. Whatever happens, we will not be taken unaware. Perhaps I can send an envoy to negotiate a settlement between the feuding parties. I do have one in mind," Brand spoke with a sardonic smile as he leaned back in his seat. "At present, what matters are the troops in Hareik and Fontaine."


    "Both marshals have written to me, dering all is well," William replied.


    "Good. Have you considered your choice for knight marshal?"


    "Sir Athelstan seems the most apt selection with your leave, my king."


    Brand nodded. "I have no objections. He did well against the ounders."


    "Very well."


    The king rose. "I have other matters to attend. We will speakter."


    "Yes, my king."


    ~~~~


    A kingthane led Folkmar of Vidrevi and his guards through the Citadel, finally stopping to open the door into a chamber. The warrior gestured for the king to enter alone, which he did, encountering Brand already present.


    "I was told this would be a meeting between all the crowns," Folkmar said, casting a wary look towards Brand.


    "It will be. I desired to speak with you alone first." The drakonian king stood by the window, gazing out at the city beyond the castle. "Come, look at the city with me."


    The forester king approached. "Is this where you push me to my death?"


    A sly smile crossed Brand''s face. "I would never be so crude. I simply wanted you to take in the size of the city. I imagine more people live here than all of Vidrevi."


    Folkmar gave Middanhal a dismissive look. "Doubtful. More people live in the wide forests than you may think, among the trees. Which is our strength."


    "Let me list your weaknesses. You need iron from Adalrik, tin from Heohlond, and salt from Hthiod, not to mention the ships of Thusund to sail your timber and furs to market," Brand said.


    "Trinkets. Nothing of valuepared to our freedom. That is what you fear," Folkmar imed. "My people can live in the forests year after year, never requiring anything from you. You cannot strangle us as you might the other realms."


    "With Order soldiers controlling Hareik and Trehaf, one might question if any part of Vidrevi that matters could resist," Brand countered. "But I have no interest in pursuing the issue with brute force. Tomorrow at my coronation, I expect Vidrevi to bow willingly."


    "You shy away from war because your strength is spent," Folkmar retorted. "And the other realms know it. Once they see Vidrevi does not fear you, they will know your iron glove is hollow."


    "Let us examine that. Follow," Brandmanded. "The others should be ready." He turned and left the room with the forester king in tow.


    They went down the corridor to reach the council chamber of the Citadel. Five people, the other crowned heads of Adalmearc, had already gathered. Once Brand entered and took his seat at the end of the table, they followed suit.


    "My lord kings, mydy queens. Folkmar of Vidrevi has cast doubt on the strength of the Alliance of Adalmearc. He questions Adalrik''s leadership," Brand rted. "Let us find out if others agree. What does Hthiod think?"


    All eyes looked at Queen Theodora, whose realm had been freed from the ounders by the Order army, led by none other than the drakonian king. "Hthiod is loyal to the Alliance," she dered with a strong voice.


    "Let us hear our other queen. Svana Konungr, tell us of Thusund."


    The queen, whosergest city had been liberated by the Order only months before, smiled. "Thusund believes strongly in the Alliance under Adalrik."


    "What of Heohlond and the r ruirech?"


    The aged King Brin, whose realm conducted all its trade through Adalrik, nodded slowly. "Heohlond values its ce in the Alliance under its wise leader."


    "Ealond?"


    King Rainier, who depended on the Order to keep his disloyal vassals from dethroning him, licked his lips. "Ealond is loyal."


    "Korndale?"


    King Adrd, who seemed mostly bewildered by the conversation, nced around. "Korndale is obviously part of Adalmearc."


    Brand looked at Folkmar. "Tell us of Vidrevi. Do you no longer trust in the Alliance?"


    The forester king looked around the room, but he found no sympathetic eyes. "Vidrevi is loyal," he mumbled with reluctance.


    Brand rose with a smile on his lips. "Excellent. I look forward to seeing this affirmed tomorrow." As swiftly as that, the council was at an end.

 Chapter 245: Journeys Beginning

    Chapter 245: Journey''s Beginning


    Early next day, a procession left the Temple. From the Hall of Holies, the highfather and ten Temrs walked out, descending down the stairs to the square. Already, some people had gathered to witness the first part of the day''s ceremony, and the crowd would only grow in size over the next hours.


    The highfather continued walking until he reached the eastern edge of the city, where the Mihtea flowed from the Wyrmpeak to fall into the city. Herey the burial chamber of the dragonborn from Sigvard to Sighelm, thest high king.


    The old priest rested for a while; the journey had already been a long one for his knees, and the same distance awaited going back. Finally, he entered the Crypt of Kings alone. In the middle, alone,y the stone coffin for Sigvard, resting for more than a thousand years. Along the edges in ascending rows, all his descendants of the House of Adal could be found. With weary steps, Septimus walked up the spiralling ramp until he reached thetest additions.


    Upon the lid of his coffin, a carving of Sighelm had been made. In his stone handsy the Dragon Crown. Once intended for Sigmar, whoy buried in the next alcove, it had waited for three years to be retrieved.


    Carefully, the priest extended his hands to pull the crown. It had once been a helmet meant for battle. Made from sea-steel, the patterns resembled the scales of a wyrm; the wings flowed down to protect the sides, while the body and head of the drake had been carved into the top.


    Prize in hand, Septimus descended to the ground and left the crypt. Outside, his Temrs gathered around him to open the path back to the Temple through the gathering crowd. The closer they came to the heart of the city, the more people stood to catch a glimpse of the Dragon Crown. At times, the knights had to push or wait briefly, but at length, they made it back.


    Alone, the highfather entered the Hall of Holies. He moved to the other end, approaching the altar of the Alfather. A square b, it had a row of carvings around the sides, depicting tall warriors doing battle. On the top was only a pair of hands reaching upwards in supplication. The space from one set of fingers to the other just allowed for the crown to be inserted. Cautiously, the priest lowered the precious item down until the stone hands held it in their grasp.


    ~~~~


    "Come on! We should have left long ago, we''ll never find a good spot!" Kate pulled on Egil''s sleeve as they tried to push through the crowds on the Temple square.


    "We could have just stayed at the castle, we could see them leave," Egil protested as he was being dragged along.


    "I want to see the actual ceremony, obviously," replied hispanion with annoyance. "Couldn''t you get some of the kingthanes to clear a ce for us? You''re the King''s Quill and all."


    "That''s not how it works," the scribe scoffed. "They can''t harm me, but that doesn''t mean they''ll do me any favours."


    "So what''s even the point?"


    "It does mean that if you hit me, I can get them to hit you," Egil told her smugly, to which she elbowed him. "Ow!"


    "Go on, then, I''m waiting."


    "Be d none of them are around," he mumbled.


    They finally stopped some hundred yards from the Temple, as close to the stairs as they could get. All around them, the people stood packed. "I guess this will do," Kate conceded. "How long until they get here, do you think?"


    "Not too long, I guess. I saw some of the thanes getting ready in the courtyard when we left."


    Kate pped her hands in excitement. "I can''t wait to see the queen! All the queens!"


    "You''ll have to wait, they probably haven''t left the Citadel yet. And like I said, you could have seen them all from the tower."


    Kate elbowed him again.


    ~~~~


    The procession began from the southern courtyard of the Citadel. They did not travel by carriage; not a horse was in sight. When approaching the Temple, the only proper way was to do so on foot. Every kingthane stood assembled in a hollow square. The king of Adalrik, soon to be high king, stood near the front with Lady Jana of Alczar by his side, holding his hand. The jarls and marshals of Adalrik followed, along with the king''s few rtives. The other kings and queens of Adalmearc had already left to take their ce.


    Led by ric, the kingthanes set into motion, and their charges followed inside the protective shell. Once outside the Citadel, rows of Order soldiers kept the Arnsweg clear and the citizens at bay. As the royal couple appeared, the crowd exploded with emotions. Cries and outbursts came as a deafening cacophony, and the recipients could do nothing but continue walking, throwing smiles and waves at either side.


    The king wore a ck tunic with a silver dragon upon it. The warm day did not require a cloak; nor did he wear anything on his head. Not yet. While his countenance seemed stern in nature, it rxed into a smile every now and then. Next to him, thedy was d in a green, flowing dress with long sleeves, stitched with patterns in silver thread. Her ck hair, braided borately, had been crowned with a gand of purple bellflowers. Wearing the garments of Rihimil and the garbs of Austre, they walked to the Temple.


    Crossing the square, they approached the holy building. The vassal kings and queens had arrived before them and stood dispersed on the Temple stairs. Three to the right side, three to the left, all of them on a different step. Each wore the colours of their realm and stood alone, though their personal guards were nearby, some paces behind.


    As the couple walked onto the first step, upied by King Brin to their right, the hignder knelt. "The Mountain bows before the Dragon of Adalrik," he spoke.


    With a few more paces, they reached the step with Queen Theodora to their left. She also knelt. "The Heath bows before the Dragon of Adalrik."


    In this manner, they continued, pausing when they came to a step where a royal stood. "The Dale bows before the Dragon of Adalrik."


    "The River bows before the Dragon of Adalrik."


    "The Sea bows before the Dragon of Adalrik."


    "The Forest bows before the Dragon of Adalrik."


    Atst, they reached the top of the stairs. In front of the Temple entrance waited the highfather, Caradoc Whitesark, and Temrs. The pair stopped before the high priest of all the holy orders, who stood between the pirs of the entry.


    "The crown of Sigvard rests in the hands of the gods," Septimus dered. "Let the atheling enter and prove that the gods find him worthy."


    The old priest stepped aside. Brand released Jana''s hand to enter the Temple alone. Sunlight fell in from above, caught by mirrors to fill the Hall of Holies. Ahead, upon the altar of the Alfather, the Dragon Crown glittered in response.


    Brand advanced past the statues of the gods in their alcoves until he stood before the altar. His eyes came to rest on the great imagery upon the wall behind, depicting Rihimil ying the ck wyrm. "Thank you," Brand whispered to the dark-d knight, though his words drowned in the silence of the hall.


    He knelt before the altar, leaning forward to let his brow rest against the edge of the stone. His lips moved, mumbling inaudible words before he rose. With careful, but assured movements, he extended his hands towards the crown. If the gods did not find him worthy, they would not release it to his grip.


    As his fingers closed around the helmet once worn by Sigvard, it willingly followed. He turned around and walked out of the hall, holding the crown between his fingers. Once he reached the entrance, he raised it into the air for all to see. As the crowd roared in delight, he lowered his arms, gave it to the highfather, and knelt.


    "You have received the blessing of Sigvard." The priest raised the crown once.


    "You have received the blessing of the tribes." He raised it twice.


    "You have received the blessing of the gods." He raised it thrice.


    "I crown you Sigvard the Second of the House of Adal." Carefully, the highfather lowered the crown unto the atheling''s head. "Rise as High King of Adalmearc, the Dragon of Adalrik. Never shall you bow before another again."


    As bid, Brand rose. He turned towards the square, allowing the people a glimpse of his coronated head. It did notst long; moving back to face the Temple again, he removed the crown. It was a helmet, meant for battle, hiding his face. He ced it in the highfather''s care, who epted it and stepped back.


    Instead, Caradoc Whitesark took Septimus'' ce, and Jana returned to stand next to Brand once more. With a broad smile, the whiterobe prepared to perform the same ceremony for the king as he had done for Brand''s parents more than twenty years ago.


    "Adalbrand of the House of Adal, son to Arngrim of House Arnling, known as King Sigvard the Second of Adalrik, is it your own will to enter this marriage?" he asked.


    "It is."


    "Jana of House al-Saqr, daughter to Karim of that house, and royaldy of Alczar, is it your own will to enter this marriage?"


    "It is."


    The priest gestured for the couple to raise their hands into the air. Taking a piece of charcoal from his pocket, he drew a rune on the back of each hand. The mark signalled the number one and the symbol for unity. "Today, you enter a union before the gods," he proimed with his bellow-like voice. He followed this by retrieving two pieces of string. He tied one around each of their wrists and wove the ends together. "Twain, yet united into one," he spoke and pulled on the woven ends until the strings broke free from their wrists. Turning their hands around, he ced the twine inside their palms and closed their hands around it. "May the gods bless your union, as they have blessed the Realms. Under the eyes of the dragon, the raven, the bull, the horse, the bear, the hart, and the eagle, I dere you wed."


    The royal pair bowed their heads to the priest before they turned around to face the crowd once more. Taking hold of Jana''s hand with his, Brand raised his other to greet his people, who responded with unbridled joy. Adalmearc had a high king, and Adalrik had a queen.


    ~~~~


    While the celebrations began, Godfrey waited in the highfather''s cell. He had watched the ceremony from afar, making his way into the Temple once it ended. The dust of the roady on his cloak and old hat; his walking staff rested against the wall.


    Septimus entered, closing and bolting the door behind him. "Did you enjoy the ceremony?"


    "Too pompous for me," Godfrey replied with a glint in his eye before his expression grew serious. "It''s time." He rose up from the bed he sat on; using one hand, he easily moved it aside. He pulled the rug underneath away as well, revealing the hatch below.


    From his robes, Septimus dug out the symbol of the highfather, hanging in a chain around his neck. He leaned down to insert the seven-pointed star into the hatch, unlocking it. "There we are. Should I leave it unlocked?"


    Godfrey smiled wryly. "If need be, I''ll find a way, locked or not." He took a breath. "Farewell, old friend. Many times we have said this, but I think this will be thest one."


    Septimus embraced the wanderer. "I hope we meet again in a ce without farewells."


    "Perhaps we just might." With another smile, Godfrey pulled the hatch open to reveal the stairs.


    "Do you require a candle?"


    He shook his head. "I know the way." With ast look at Septimus, the wanderer stepped down, pulling the hatch to close after him.


    He descended into the ck pit. As he walked down the stairs, his hand extended to run along the carvings on the walls. Darkness hid the figures of Elves fighting dragons, the flight of Dwarves, and theing of the tribes of Saelnar until the battle of Valmark and the first victory against the Godking. Those who carved the figures were long gone. There would be no record in stone of the second battle of Valmark, of the final victory against the ck wyrm; it would live in the memory of Men, as they chose to remember it.


    Finally, Godfrey reached the antechamber. The tree shivered its leaves at his arrival. On the other side, weak light could be seen along the edges of the door without handle that sat in the cave wall. It struggled to illuminate the vault, giving faint shape to the tree that grew without earth, water, or sun.


    Casting his hat aside, Godfrey did the same with his cloak. He unbuckled his belt that still had a sword of sea-steel tied to it, carefully cing the weapon against the wall where another de already rested. His boots and socks followed. Barefoot in his tunic, Godfrey finally walked forward.


    As he passed the tree, he extended one hand to brush through its leaves. Crossing the chamber, he stood before the door that could not be opened. With slow breaths, the wanderer ced one hand on the wooden nks. As he retracted his arm, the door followed.


    Sunlight streamed in. Beyond, Godfrey saw a wide meadow that stretched to the horizon. An ashen tree rose so tall, its crown disappeared into the sky. In the distance, underneath the shade, people could be seen. Some yed games, others music apanied by song. A woman in a flowing, green dress stitched with silver danced on bare feet in the grass.


    The music came to an abrupt halt, and the people turned to look in the traveller''s direction. The dancer ceased her elegant movements, almost losing the gand in her hair. Taking a deep breath, the wanderer crossed the threshold into the meadow. With every step, his tunic turned ck, adorned by silver threads in the shape of a drake. Behind him, the door mmed shut.


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