The Twilight herald

'Fine, I admit it. Gods, has Carel been giving you lessons in how to scold me?' Isak said, exasperated.

'Not at all, but he might have mentioned something about not letting you get too big for those ridiculously large boots.' It was Tila's turn to smirk now.

Isak stuck his tongue out.

It had been deliciously warm all day, perhaps a little too hot for riding in formal clothes, but not even Isak complained with any real feeling. This stretch of the South Road was one he knew well, and he was enjoying the beautiful countryside of the Saroc suzerainty. Dominating the western skyline was the squat bulk of Tayell Mountain – known locally as Greenjacket because of the thick band of trees around its middle. The northern half of the Saroc suzerainty was hilly, and there were plenty of rivers and streams, ensuring fertile alpine meadows and vineyards – it was renowned for the rich crops of wine grapes which proliferated on the su

Isak's party pla

Isak turned in his saddle to look down at Tila. 'You know, when I made you my political advisor, I didn't give you licence to run the rest of my life.'

'I know,' Tila said with her most glittering smile, the one she normally reserved for Count Vesna. 'But I'm far better at it than you are.'

'Huh!' Isak muttered. 'I think that man's having a bad influence on you.'

'I'm sure I don't know what you mean,' Tila replied, fooling no one. Her so-called chaperone, Mistress Daran, was fully aware that the count was smitten with Tila, but opted for a quiet life, as long as they were discreet. Isak was begi

'Count Vesna's the only other person I know who thinks they can get their way just with a smile,' Isak said, laughing in spite of himself. 'You're becoming quite a match for him; he'd best be careful – he is getting old, after all, and his charms are fading.'

'Oh hush, leave him alone. A few grey hairs are distinguished, ask any woman! It's certainly more attractive than a spotty over-sized teenager, no matter what his title is!'

Tila's retort provoked a snort and Isak inclined his head, conceding the point. 'The countess certainly seems to agree with you,' he said, jabbing a thumb past his dragon-emblazoned guards to the column behind them. Suzerain Saroc, with his hurscals all dressed in red and white, was followed by Countess Saroc and Count Vesna, the countess sitting high and proud in her saddle. Vesna was apparently regaling her with a comic poem, told with every ounce of theatrical flamboyance he could muster.

Tila tilted her nose and pointedly ignored him.

Bringing up the rear of Isak's cavalcade was a column of light cavalry, which included men from Lomin and Tildek, who had surrendered as soon as they could. They had had little choice but to follow Duke Certinse's orders, so instead of sending them home, where they would once again be under the influence of the Certinse family, Isak had decided to keep them close.]ust in case their new-found loyalty to the Lord of the Farlan proved weaker than he hoped, a regiment of Saroc troops rode alongside them.

Looking ahead, Isak spotted Crosswind Fortress, coming into view through the trees. The castle, one of several guarding the approach to Tirah, was a compact, square building with a lone tower at the corner nearest to them.

'It's not as big as Nerlos Castle,' Tila commented.

'It doesn't have to be. Look at the way it dominates this whole area.' Isak waved a hand in a chopping motion, and explained, 'This is an open floodplain; the castle has unrestricted views from east to west, and this is the only road good enough for an army to move north through Saroc. It runs so close to the castle you could lose thousands to just a few companies of archers stationed on the wall.'

'Thousands? Surely not?'

Isak nodded. 'Trust me, and if not me, then Vesna. There would be huge casualties, even if you just tried to go past the castle, and more if you tried to take it. The ground around here is so soft and waterlogged from the flooding rivers that it's useless most of the year round.'

Passing the last of the alders they trotted out into the killing ground before the castle, a thousand yards of open space between them and the stone walls. The road took a circuitous route to keep to the highest and driest ground. The road was built up slightly from the ground and studded with stones on each side, while the rest of the plain ground was flat and featureless. The size of the plain made it look like a minor road, though it was as wide and well-made as one might expect of such an important route.

Feeling exposed, Tila shivered and pulled her shawl over her shoulders. She didn't speak as they made their way towards the castle, the evening shadows slowly lengthening behind them.

'Looks like Suzerain Foleh has guests,' Isak commented when they were no more than a hundred yards from the castle. Not a scrap of wind stirred the flags on the tower or above the gate. Isak couldn't make out the devices, so he was forced to guess from their colours alone. Foleh's – a raven's wing impaled on a barbed spear, if he could see it – would be the flag on the tower, placed higher than those of his guests. The tradition of bearing flags was introduced to cut down the number of disputes caused by armed noblemen going una

'It's strange to think that I've come this way so many limes before, and he'll have never known, but today he'll welcome me in like a conquering hero.'

'And the others?' Tila asked, squinting up at the limp pe

'General Lahk,' Isak realised all of a sudden. 'He rarely wears it, but I saw his colours once. Lesarl told me that Lahk was made a marshal twenty summers ago, though he prefers "general", for obvious reasons. His crest is a black falcon holding a ducal circlet in its claws.'

Tila smiled. 'It can't have taxed the Keymaster's gifts too much to produce that one.'

And he's come to meet me,' Isak mused. 'Interesting.'

'Hardly surprising though,' Tila said. 'The new Duke of Tirah should parade into his city, not slip back in the night accompanied only by a dozen guards!'

The drawbridge was down, the gate open. As they approached, Isak saw a handful of men emerge. From their colours he could guess who was who, but it was the oversized figure of General Lahk who advanced to greet Isak first at the lip of the drawbridge. Lahk, dressed as formally as Isak had ever seen him, greeted Isak with open palms, in his own livery and with an empty scabbard swinging from his hip. Oh Lahk, Isak thought to himself, what foolish ancient tradition does that come from?

'Welcome back, your Grace.' The white-eye general leaned to one side and looked down the column of soldiers behind. 'I had thought to provide you with an escort, but I see you've already found one.'