The Twilight herald

'We will stay a fortnight,' he went on. 'I doubt Carel will be able to travel by then, but I want to see him stronger before I go. And I have a few matters that I want to attend to before I return.'

'Plans, my Lord?' The suzerain's interest was piqued, especially as he saw Tila's puzzlement.

'Plans, my Lord Suzerain,' Isak confirmed with a broad smile. 'The tribe is run by its dukes and its suzerains, and if I am to rule, I should meet them – half of those I already knew have died in battle, and I'm pla

A slight gasp ran around the room at that, and all attempts to pretend conversation stopped as Isak took another swig of wine and continued, 'There's been too much treachery, too much plotting in recent years. I want each and every one of my most powerful nobles to swear an oath of loyalty. If they refuse, I'll know where they stand; if they look me in the eye and lie, I'll break them in half and feed them to the pigs.'

Isak spoke with such vehemence that more than a few flinched. From next to Tila Isak heard Suzerain Torl clear his throat to break the silence.

'That will be a difficult undertaking, my Lord,' Suzerain Torl murmured. 'Some are old and infirm; many will have a long way to travel.'

Isak gave a dismissive wave of the hand. 'If they wish to present their apologies instead, I'll leave it up to my Chief Steward to decide who has a valid excuse… and who should be stripped of their title.' Isak gave a dangerous grin. 'I think recent events have proved that divisions remain, but that ca

Isak saw Tila tense slightly at that. Damn, he thought, I didn't mean him – but you've got a point all the same. How long until the Elves discover their king is reborn? Long enough 1 hope; I don't want to be fighting on too many fronts all at once.

Looking around, Isak saw worried faces, men dropping their eyes as Isak's glittering gaze swept over the tables. A handful were nodding their agreement, but most just looked shocked. It was understandable, Isak reflected. Lord Bahl had ruled for almost two hundred years, and while he had sometimes been unpredictable, the man had largely left his nobles to their own devices. Now they had an arrogant young pup who wore dark tidings like a cloak a

Isak stood, motioning the others back down as they rose with him.

Hooking two fingers around the neck of the half-empty decanter, he excused himself to Suzerain Saroc and his countess. He knew he was being rude, but he didn't want to be drawn further on the subject tonight; his sour temper and too much wine might lead him to say something he didn't intend. Now he wanted a chance to hear what his advisors had to say before discussing the matter further.

Making his way out of the hall, Isak followed the corridor to the terrace that overlooked the suzerain's formal garden, apparently in the Tor Milist style. Mihn was on his heel, as normal. He crossed the terrace and felt the lush dew-kissed grass underneath his shoes and breathed in the smell of evening blooms.

The suzerain was proud of his gardens, and though the concept remained alien to Isak, who knew nothing of such things, in the warm gloom of twilight and lit by scattered paper lanterns, he had to agree that the sight before him was beautiful. Low yew hedges sectioned off the long garden, each enclosing a different style. Thin swirls of flowerbeds cut paths through the grass, blazing with the colours of summer, but it was the stillness that Isak savoured the most.

A dwarf apple tree the height of Isak's chest stood at the centre of a piece of lawn, flanked by slender stone birdbaths. Resting the decanter on the nearest, Isak fumbled in his pocket for Carel's tobacco pouch; the countess had forbidden it to the veteran. Soon, the thick smell of pipe-smoke was drifting through the slender branches of the apple tree and fading to nothing in the darkening sky. Isak inspected the snow-white skin of his hand. It hadn't changed at all since the battle in Narkang, where lightning had burned the colour from it. Not even weeks of riding with it exposed to the sun had ta

'Had you pla

'Of course.'

'Then why did Lady Tila and the count look quite so surprised?'

Isak sighed. 'Because I'd not pla

Mihn shook his head. 'No, it was a little more eloquent. There will be serious opposition, though, even from your supporters.'

'Good, that's the point.' Isak jabbed the pipe towards the high roof of the hall. 'Most of the Farlan legions are led by fat, contented old men. If they object to a trip to Tirah, they'll be of no use on campaign. They need waking up, Mihn, our blades have become dulled.'

'What threat is it you want them to be ready for?' Mihn sounded unconcerned, but Isak could tell the man was worried by the fact they were conversing at all. He would go several days on end without speaking a word to Isak – when Mihn deemed conversation necessary, Isak knew that he'd damned well better pay attention.

'Take your pick. I don't think there's any way to tell yet, but Lord Bahl wasn't killed by accident. If Morghien and King Emin are to be believed, this is all some artifice of Azaer's – or it might be Lord Styrax, building himself an empire. And we must not give the White Circle time to regroup – they all add up to one thing: we must be prepared for war.'

'You intend to punish the White Circle?'

Isak shrugged. 'They brought the fight to us; what can I do except strike back?'

'There are ways to strike back that don't involve razing Scree and Helrect to the ground.'

'Is that what you're worried about? My lack of proportion?' Isak took a sip of wine and screwed up his face. The wine didn't go with the bitter soldier's tobacco Carel preferred. He turned to look Mihn in the eye: the northerner's usual passivity was gone completely and he matched Isak's gaze without blinking or turning away as he normally would.

'Spreading chaos on our borders may not serve you well, not if chaos is what your enemies want. If there is another way to deal with the Circle, will you promise to consider it?'

Isak blinked. 'That's the first time you've asked me for anything.'

'All I ask is that you do not start the war, that you do not let yourself be goaded into fighting on the wrong front.'

After a moment's pause, Isak held out his arm for Mihn to take. All you're asking is for me to promise to act sensibly; it's a more than fair request.' The smaller man bobbed his head in acknowledgement, returning to his customary reserve.

Isak stopped, hand still gripped about Mihn's forearm, and looked Mihn straight in the eye. Curiosity flickered over Mihn's face, but he had patience enough to outlast a glacier. Isak looked away briefly, then rubbed his hand over his face, as if to sober up a little more.