The Twilight herald

'What's happened?' Isak asked, sheathing his sword and swinging up into Toramin's saddle. His huge charger danced on the spot, the emerald dragons on its flanks rippling as he did so.

'Jeil went to check on the decoy troops. The mobs have found them. We need to get you away to safety before they move further this way.'

Isak didn't move. 'And what about the decoy troops?'

Jachen stepped forward. 'They're surrounded, my Lord. There's nothing we can do for them.'

'And that's it?' Isak asked in astonishment. 'You're happy to leave them to it?'

'There is nothing we can do, my Lord,' Jachen repeated. 'There are thousands attacking them. We're not enough to help – and the sight of you will drive them into a greater frenzy.'

'So you suggest we abandon them? Leave men you've fought along¬side to be torn apart by a mob?' Isak roared. 'Or is it simply that you're as much a coward as I've been told?'

'My Lord,' exclaimed Suzerain Saroc, 'it is not a question of coward¬ice; Major Jachen has a duty to the tribe, and that must come first.'

'Come before the lives of five hundred men and the most loyal suzerain in the tribe?' Isak turned to Count Vesna, but he remained silent. 'Vesna, have you got nothing to say about this?'

'My Lord…' His voice tailed off.

His face-plate was up, and Isak could see the helplessness on his lace. At last he realised what the count had been talking about in Tor Milist: good men were dying when they shouldn't have had to. To Isak's surprise, Count Vesna said nothing more. 'You can't agree with them,' Isak gasped, almost pleading. He felt a clammy horror sweeping over him. He'd had a change of heart in Tor Milist; was he now going to leave these men to die, without even a word?

'1- Lord Isak, duty must come first,' Vesna said eventually.

'Duty? Will even you not follow my orders? Isak growled, his shock t urning now to anger.

The other suzerains, Nelbove and Fordan, had dismounted and come to add their voices to the argument, hut Isak''. obvious fury kept them silent.

'Well? What about it, my loyal subjects? Ate you going to follow me, or does one of you want to be the first to try to forct me to run?" Isak's voice was tight with fury. Eolis remained In Its scabbard, hut that meant little; they all knew he could draw n In the blink 1)1 an eye.

'My Lord,' said Major Jachen, moving a hall step forward.

Isak whirled to meet the man and saw naked feai in Jachen's eyes, yet the former mercenary refused to buckle. A spark ol defiance re-mained and he forced himself to stand tall and match Isak's relentless gaze. 'My Lord, they are loyal to death. They will follow you.'

'Well, what are we waiting for then?' Isak snapped.

'You'll have to cut me down first, my lord.'

Isak faltered, surprise overriding anger momentarily. 'What?'

'They'll follow you to death if you ask them to-'

'And you won't?' Isak cut in angrily. 'Last time I looked, you were also under my command.'

'Do you remember the first time we met?' Jachen said with fatalistic calm. 'You asked me if I'd have the guts to face you down if I thought you were wrong.'

Isak thought for a moment. 'So this is you clouting me round the head, is it? You've picked a bloody stupid time to grow a spine, Major Ansayl.'

Jachen ignored the jibe. 'I am in command of your personal guard. My first duty is to the tribe – and that is to keep you safe. You said it yourself: you're a white-eye, and you don't always make the best decisions, and you need a commander who'll tell you when you're plain wrong.'

Jachen could see the men behind Isak standing open-mouthed, but he didn't dare change tack now. The massive white-eye was as surprised as any of them, but at least it had deflected Lord Isak's anger for a moment, and made him think. Oh Gods, am I putting my life on a white-eye thinking rationally? he thought, surprised at how calm he felt.

'You think it's wrong to think our comrades worth saving?'

'Right now, yes,' Jachen said firmly, sensing his lord was wavering. 'The mobs number in their thousands, many thousands. Whether those men are torn apart or not, my duty is to keep you safe. Their loss would be a tragedy, something to pray over when the time is appropriate. Your loss would be a catastrophe, for the entire Farlan nation, maybe even the entire Land. The loss of five hundred soldiers means almost nothing to the future of the tribe, while the loss of the Lord of the Farlan is a disaster that puts us all in danger. There is no Kra

'Do you think I don't know that?' Isak said, more reasonable now. 'But what use is a lord who runs from danger and leaves his men to die?'

'One that knows his own value to the tribe,' Jachen said softly. 'Most of those men are going to die, and only the Gods could change that, but as soon as the rabid folk of Scree see you, they'll want your blood first. You're a white-eye lord, and Chosen oi Gods they have come suddenly to hate. For all your strength, my Lord, you ca

Isak stared at the major, mouth half-open to retort, but unable to find anything to say. He couldn't fault anything Jachen had said… but to so lightly condemn a division of men to death? What did that make him?

Is this what it is to be lord? To carelessly choose who lives and who dies? He felt sick at the thought.

'It is,' rang out a powerful voice in his head. Isak jumped at the unexpected contribution from Aryn Bwr. 'To be mortal is to be afraid of what comes after; to be afraid of consequences. They make kings as they worship Gods, because they are too weak to make choices themselves. Offer them a shining figure they can pretend is better than they are and they will embrace you as their saviour.'

Isak kept silent, trying to come to terms with what he had to do. An image of Lord Bahl appeared in his mind, the blunt lines of his lace and his usual grim, inscrutable expression: a face to trust, a man to rely upon, no matter what. And inside he was wracked with loss and guilt, but as long as his people didn't know that, they would have stormed the gates of the Dark Place at his side.

Slowly, Isak nodded; Lord Bahl would have made this decision. It would have pained him, and their deaths would have weighed on his soul, but only his closest friends would have ever seen that pain. The needs of the tribe would always come first. Isak hated himself for it, but he had to do the right thing.

'Fine,' he said in a muted voice. 'We make for the rest of the army.' He didn't look at anyone.

From the streets south of the Red Palace came the clamour of voices, and the sound of hundreds of feet thumping on the cobbled ground. Without delay Isak remounted, gesturing to everyone to do likewise.

'And we go quickly,' he said in a louder voice as he drew his sword.

IS here anything else I can get for you, my Lady?' the soldier asked, hovering in the guardroom doorway.

Tila looked up, her face blank for a moment until she returned to the present. 'No, thank you,' she said eventually.

'Are you sure?' The guard's face was half concealed by shadow, but he looked concerned. 'Lady Tila, when did you last eat?'

'A while ago,' she said, not really sure when that had been.

'Shall I fetch you something? You're not looking your best.'

Tila sighed, her fingers twisting the citrine ring on her left hand. 'I'm not hungry, and I'm not ill, I'm just worried.'

He tried to look relieved, but Tila couldn't tell if it was genuine. 'Lady Tila, I don't care how mad the people of Scree are, they couldn't hurt Lord Isak. All he needs to fear are the Gods themselves!'

'I'm afraid you are wrong, Cavalryman,' Tila said wearily. 'Lord Isak is stronger and faster than any man, but he is flesh and blood. After the battle in Narkang I bound his wounds. He has as much to fear from battle as you or I. Is there any news from the city at all? Do we not have scouts or mages reporting back?'