by Tom Lloyd
Isak shot him a look of apology.
'I had no idea,' whispered the major. 'The man was sent back alone, soon after they arrived at the castle – he was a woodsman, an expert, able to survive almost anywhere. He made it back to Embere and found an escort to accompany him to the Fortress of the Devoted. When he heard that the others had never returned, he hanged himself in guilt at having abandoned them.'
'Not much of a secret, considering the consequences if your own leader finds out.'
'There are ramifications that would cloud our purpose in this Age.'
Isak laughed. 'How convenient. Well, I'll think about what you've said and let you know.'
'My Lord, this is a matter of the utmost secrecy; we can afford no contact or the Council will put a stop to everything. If the Knight-Cardinal knew about this, he would have us all killed and take the gifts, perhaps even try to kill you.'
Isak sat back with a sigh. For a few heartbeats he didn't move, then he looked to both Mihn and Carel. Neither took the opportunity to speak.
'I still have to think about this,' Isak said. 'Count Vesna will be wearing a lady's favour for the joust. If it's red on the last day, I will be there. White, I refuse. That gives you enough warning?'
'It does, my Lord,' Major Ortof-Greyl said, rising. 'I thank you for your time.' He bowed low, then followed Mihn out.
Carel sat down next to Isak, their concerned expressions almost identical.
'I though life could not get any more complicated.' There was no wry humour in Carel's voice, just fatigue. He was beginning to feel his age. 'I'm assuming that you'd have told me if you ever believed yourself to be the Saviour, or anything else. So what are we going to do about all those who think you are?'
Isak scratched at the stubble on his cheek. 'I don't know. I just hope we can avoid too many people dying over it. I've never had much of a plan for my life, certainly nothing so grand as becoming Lord of the Farlan. That was surprise enough.' He sighed heavily.
'If we have to go to war over a lie, or over the misinterpreted ram-blings of madmen, then perhaps the Land would be better off without me.'
Carel turned in shock, but he saw nothing more than weary resignation on Isak's face. He placed a hand on Isak's huge shoulder. These days, whenever he touched his boy, it didn't feel quite like flesh under his palm. It made him uncomfortable, but he put that aside for Isak's sake. Then let's make sure it never comes to that,' he said quietly.
CHAPTER 32
The day of the Spring Fair came too soon for the brooding Krann. He'd told the others about the major's visit, but they'd not been able to provide the answers he'd hoped for. Tila pointed out that the Devoted had been founded on decent principles, so there had to be some true men within their ranks.
Vesna worked from the other side: he thought it was a trap, and wondered whether it could truly be an ambush. The Ivy Rings were halfway between Narkang and the Fortress of the Devoted. While killing or abducting Isak was a risky venture, it was certainly feasible: it was no secret that the Devoted considered Siulents and Eolis too dangerous to be at large in the Land.
That would be a dramatic move, and one that would mean they'd have to abandon their strongholds in Emin Thonal's kingdom, but if they thought the prize worthwhile, it wouldn't be beyond the Devoted.
The Ivy Rings? Who in the name of Vrest's beard told you about them?' Emin actually looked surprised when Isak asked about the temple. They were sitting on a high terrace looking out over the city, overlooking the tents and banners of the Spring Fair. The morning's rain had lessened and Isak had joined Emin for the midday meal.
The king was dressed as resplendently as ever and Isak could see no trace of the strain that he was surely under. In two days his life and city were to be threatened, yet he was relaxed and at ease.
'I overheard a conversation, that's all.'
Then it must have been an odd conversation.' Emin sounded curious. 'Few people like to talk about the place. But since you asked, the Ivy Rings are a disused temple, once dedicated to Belarannar, but few people go there these days. They're in Llehden, a strange place.'
'Strange?'
'Yes, strange.' Emin sniffed. For a moment he became reserved, serious, before he forced the mood away. 'A friend of mine was lost there a few years past. The shire is a reasonable size – no towns, but a number of villages that are prosperous enough.'
'And the lord of the shire?'
'Does not exist. There's not been a Lord of Llehden for generations. As I said, strange things happen there and folk prefer to steer clear. The inhabitants aren't hostile to outsiders, but they live under rather different rules. I have yet to find a tax officer who is willing to go there for me – at least more than once,' he added darkly. Emin's smile was ambiguous, not angry, but he clearly didn't relish his lack of control.
'Llehden is like an island: the region feels much more isolated than it actually is. If you go there you'll find the landscape feels – well, sharper, as if natural magic influences the environment and folklore and myth have a greater grip on reality. The Gentry, Coldhand Folk, Dead Man's Wives; these things are much more common there. Unless you have a reason to go, I would suggest you avoid Llehden. A place like that has a natural balance to it. I doubt it would welcome you.'
'So not a great sight-seeing destination then,' Isak said quietly, and changed the conversation, asking instead about the origins of the Spring Fair.
Emin smiled, relieved, and launched himself into a potted version of Narkang's history.
On the second morning of the Spring Fair, Isak awoke to see a single bright shaft of sunlight piercing the shutters of his room. The gloom of previous days had dissipated and as he opened the windows, he was met by a warm sea breeze. Yesterday the air had been full of the murky tang of seaweed and sodden driftwood. Now he could taste the life and energy of the waves. It put a smile on his face as he pulled on Siulents and belted Eolis around his waist. The blue hood of Nartis went into his belt. He felt no need to retreat behind it today, but with so many people out on the plain he wanted to be able to relax without worrying how much people could read in his face.
They went out early. Isak elected to ride so he had horses at hand in case things became desperate on the last day. To justify being the only nobleman on horseback, he toured the fair, using Toramin's great bulk to dissuade people from approaching. Tila accompanied him, riding side-saddle on Megenn. The saddle was actually a normal one, but with tightly wrapped blankets they had managed to construct something that was comfortable enough for her to ride. If it came to a mad rush for the gates, Isak wanted Tila to be safe. Her own mare was fine for travelling, but Megenn was bigger, faster, and battle-trained.
The entire city seemed to have descended to the plain. A,riot of noise, bustle and activity surrounded the Farlan as they trotted past open kitchens, acrobatic displays, parties of minstrels and a host of weird and wonderful games. Vesna was naturally at the jousting fences, watching the competition and preparing himself for his first match. He'd been drawn against a commoner who'd won the morning's competitions. It was traditional for a few peasants or apprentices from the city to be allowed to cross lances with the noblemen. The king provided armour and horses, and any victory – rare though they were – would win the man a personal congratulation from his monarch.
Vesna was hardly worried by the tall, ruddy-faced youth who was ecstatic just to be scheduled to face the legendary count. He was more concerned about two men wearing the colours of the Devoted: the Kingsguard champion and a wealthy knight of the city, who'd made a point of coming to greet him. Vesna had noted the tattoo on his ear as they spoke.
As the man departed, casting one last avaricious look at Vesna's ensorcelled sword, Vesna had felt a sudden pang of unfamiliar nervousness. Fool, he chastised himself with a grin. Fall in love and you're suddenly a shy little boy again. There's a reason a man of the Brotherhood made a point of coming to see you now, because you're that good. Just remember: these people know your
name for a reason.
Isak found himself enjoying the fair far more than he'd expected. He loved the exotic, sometimes bizarre foods on display; they were mainly drawn from the ocean and though he recognised little of the samples offered up by beaming cooks, he'd made significant inroads on his hunger long before he was due to eat with the king. The further in they went, the stranger the sights became.
He lingered for a long while to watch a hedge wizard in ragged robes perform a meagre repertoire of tricks. Unsurprisingly, the audience was mainly young children, but Isak was fascinated by the display, mean as it was. By watching the movements and tasting the
changes in the air, Isak quickly understood how the man was keeping the children enthralled. His abilities were minimal, too minor perhaps even to have been trained, but Isak greatly enjoyed the invention.
When the display was over, Isak beckoned the man over and gave him a gold emin. He was overwhelmed by the hedge wizard's thanks, which he shrugged off, a little embarrassed at having caused such an emotional scene. Tila raised an eyebrow at his generosity, but Isak just grinned. He had enjoyed the theatrics as much as any of the children there.
'He taught me something. That's worth a coin.' Isak held his hands together and copied one of the wizard's unintelligible phrases, and a pair of flame wings rose up into the air before dissipating. The girl smiled at the joy on his face, trying not to show the sudden sadness as she remembered he'd never been allowed this sort of fun before. Sometimes it was hard to remember the Krann was only just out of childhood, for all his size and power.
'Come on, my Lord, we should be going back to the pavilion,' she said finally. Isak was dining with the king in the royal box, in one of the two massive pavilions erected down either side of the jousting field.
'Tigers first,' he declared. 'Emin said there would be a menagerie of animals, and I'm guessing it'll be downwind of here. I'm seeing a tiger before I do anything more.' He reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze of brotherly affection. Tila could do nothing but laugh at the anticipation on his face as she trotted after him.
'So, my Lord, do you still think your wager is safe? Emin pointed with his cigar to the knight taking the crowd's applause. The young man shone in the sunlight as he wheeled his horse about, waving to the crowd. His visor was up and Isak could see the beaming face of a youth about his own age. As the new – and youngest-ever – champion of the Kingsguard, Emin had gifted the knight with a gold-inlaid suit of armour. The helm had been fashioned into the cherubic features of one of Karkarn's Aspects, a boyish smile with one blood-red tear falling from his right eye, an image that was often used by the Harlequins for their masks.
'He's good, but he can't have come up against a man of Count Vesna's ability,' answered Tila for her Lord.
She blushed as Emin smiled at her and asked, 'You've seen much jousting, my lady?'
'My brother lives for it, your Majesty.'
'Then perhaps you would judge the next two men as they parade? Thank you, my dear. Lord Isak, while your most capable advisor prepares my next wager, perhaps we should peruse the crowd.' He selected a sweetened prawn from the plate between them and nodded his head to the opposing pavilion. Isak followed the movement, his eye going straight to a group of people taking seats opposite them.
It was hard to stand out in a crowd of rich noblemen and women, but Herolen Jex had managed it. Dressed in red and white, he glided along the walkway ahead of five others. All eyes were on him. The tanned skin of a Western Islander had darkened further with a lifetime under the sun. Isak could easily imagine this man striding the deck of a ship: Jex walked as if he owned the pavilion and all those in it. His glittering smile swept down the rows of people, and they seemed to feel it touch their skin. A whole line of noblemen rippled around to meet his gaze, before lowering their eyes as if he were royalty. The man might have been an enemy, but Isak couldn't help admiring Jex's presence.
Isak glanced at Emin while this procession was going on. The king's eyes were narrow and focused. He was smoking his cigar in his usual languid fashion, but he seemed oblivious to the smoke passing in front of his eyes. Isak looked back to the other pavilion: Jex seated – and looking directly at them. The pirate was sprawled over two seats, one arm running down the backrest and his boots resting on the one in front. It was causing significant discomfort to the man in front of him, but he didn't appear to be objecting.
Jex matched stares with Isak and Emin, then slid his boots back on to the boards below. Leaning forward, he plucked a cigar from the hands of the hapless noble in front, sat back and began to puff away at it in mockery of the king. Emin gave a slight nod in acknowledgement, which Jex returned.
Isak just pointed to Count Vesna, preparing for his next joust, and made an obscene gesture at the pirate. Jex threw his head back and laughed loud enough to hush half of the pavilion, taking no notice of the curious looks he received.
Similarly, Isak ignored both the groan from behind him, and his political advisor poking a leather-shod toe into her Lord's back.
They watched the jousting for much of the afternoon. The gathering opposite them was in a constant state of flux, but they soon noticed a pattern in the way Jex's companions were moving about. The man just sat still and waited for reports to be collected and brought to him. When Vesna easily toppled his third and last opponent of the day, Jex affected a yawn and threw a coin on to the sand as the count dismounted to take his applause. The crowd hushed immediately – the whole city had heard of the coming duel.
Vesna pretended not to see the throw, idly discovering the coin at his feet a few seconds later. Both pavilions craned their heads forward as he bent to pick it up. The Farlan hero held it up to the light for a moment, them turned towards Isak and, with affected delight, held the silver piece up for his Lord to see.
The Krann raised a thumb in approval, knowing Vesna's self-deprecating humour well enough, and the whole crowd began to laugh. Beaming from ear to ear, Vesna walked back to his page with a jaunty step made even more comical by the constraints of his armour.
The crowd laughed even harder, but Jex failed to join in. CHAPTER 33
'Isak, it's time to decide.' Tila couldn't tell if he'd even heard her speak: the frown on his face was more pensive than angry.
Still Isak didn't react. They had been talking endlessly about the Devoted major and his news, right into the early hours, and now it was the last day of Spring Fair and no one was convinced they knew what the right thing to do was. Isak wasn't sure he trusted the earnest young major; there was too much he didn't understand. And yet… And yet it was too obvious to be an ambush. Isak's company might not be large, but his men were Ghosts and it would take more than a single regiment to overcome them, especially if they were already on their guard.
Then there was the added problem of Lord Bahl: he wouldn't wait for his Chief Steward to come up with evidence; he would just attack. For all their power, the Devoted stood no chance against the Farlan Army.
And there was another worry: King Emin. Emin and that dangerous little smile of his – in some ways, that was the only reassurance Isak had. The Narkang king was clever, and he wanted the Farlan to know it. If he were Isak's enemy, he would not have shown so much of himself. It was obvious there was more involved, but Emin had dropped enough hints for Isak to be sure his plans were suitably grand in scope, and needing Parian involvement, not enmity.
He sighed, deeply, and turned to Tila. 'The red.'
Tila held up the red silk scarf that she'd bought the previous day, then knotted the white about Megenn's reins. Vesna nudged his horse closer and she tied the red scarf about his arm, already clad in black-iron. The count had been permitted to wear his enchanted armour after the king had ruled that it was no less awkward than unensorcelled plate, and would not give him an unfair advantage. The count
wondered if he also agreed so the expected finale would be all the more dramatic: the Lion of Anvee darkly glittering in the sun, facing the shining fo
rm of Emin's champion, the youth nicknamed the Sun-bee because of his gold-plated armour. The contrast of misty black and glittering gold would certainly be good fare for the dozens of minstrels and storytellers out on the plain this day.
'Are you sure?' Carel looked far from happy at the decision.
'We can ask the king for an escort, surely?' This was a question Isak had wanted to avoid: he didn't want the king to be privy to all his secrets, in case he had misjudged the man – the last thing he wanted was to leave open the opportunity to blame any 'accident' on the Knights of the Temples. Isak could see from Carel and Vesna's reactions that he wasn't the only one concerned about how much they were trusting the king.
'From what I've found, the Ivy Rings would be a bad place for an ambush, no matter how isolated. As for Emin, I think we can trust him, but who knows – there aren't that many Farlan I can trust completely. "Knowledge is power" – Lesarl's favourite phrase.' He laughed hollowly. 'And a wise man knows more than his closest friend.'
That's true enough.' Vesna gave the scarf a tug to check it was secure. 'But you can take this too far sometimes.'
Isak looked down at the ground, refusing to look his bondsman in the eye.
'Sometimes a man needs secrets. It doesn't have to be because of a lack of trust.'
'It seems to happen more often these days,' said Carel. 'Morghien, for one – you've said less than Mihn about him. What's going on, Isak?'
'Enough!' he roared suddenly.
Tila flinched and looked away, but Carel didn't even blink: Isak might be powerful now, rich even, but he was still the boy Carel had practically raised.
'Not enough!' he bellowed back. 'Do you think yourself so wise now you can do everything alone? I'm not here to run your errands. If you expect me to be some meek little courtier then you can shove my title and Arugin up your arse.'
Isak didn't reply, but clamped his jaws tightly shut.