Finally they found themselves outside a small door in a dimly lit corridor lined with large framed pictures separated by elaborately arranged clusters of shields and weapons.
But despite all the gloom there was a feeling of space and great opulence about the corridor which impinged on Antyr immediately.
'Don't forget the fee,’ Tarrian whispered urgently, sensing the same.
The woman tapped on the door gently. It opened silently and, after a few whispered words with someone, she stepped to one side and indicated with a wave of her hand that Tarrian and Antyr should enter.
Inside, Antyr found himself in a small ante-chamber. Despite its size, however, the sense of opulent splendour that had hovered subtly in the darkened corridor, cried out here. Landscape paintings all around gave Antyr the momentary impression that he was standing in the countryside on a bright summer's day. Plain, polished shelves bore delicate carvings of farm workers, the four chairs that guarded each corner of the room had embroidered backs and cushions that complemented the theme, and even the carpet underfoot felt like luxurious summer turf.
The soft click of the door closing behind him broke the spell and Antyr turned to speak to the woman. But she was gone. He had an image of her fading silently into the soft-footed darkness outside which he realized was Tarrian's, still unable fully to relinquish her pain.
In her place stood a tall, heavily built man with long black hair and a black beard. He exuded a power and menace which was totally at odds with the gentle pastoral quality of the little room that he was now dominating. And he was staring at Antyr intently.
Menedrion. Antyr needed no introduction. As with the Duke and Ciarll Feranc, the actual presence of the man overrode the impression of all other previous, distant, encounters, exposing them as mere shadows of the grim reality.
'Not his father,’ Tarrian said, his voice low even though only Antyr could hear. ‘Less sure of himself. Less disciplined. Watch your step.'
It was not reassuring, but it chimed with Antyr's own response. Oddly, however, Menedrion did not disturb him as much as the strangely ominous presence of Ciarll Feranc and the truly massive presence of the Duke. This man had more the bearing of just another loutish officer and Antyr had faced enough in his time to become a fair master at handling them when need arose.
'Look tame,’ he ordered his Companion, then he clicked his heels together and stood up straight.
A brief whiff of amused surprise from Tarrian pervaded him, but it was withdrawn immediately and replaced by sincere approval. ‘Sorry. You know your own,’ came a faint echo to him.
Menedrion, too, had apparently not expected such a response and it seemed to unbalance him slightly.
'Parade ground or field, Dream Finder,’ he said gruffly, without looking at him as he walked past towards a door opposite.
'Both sir,’ Antyr replied to his retreating back. ‘I was in the front rank at Herion…'
'Come through, man,’ came an irritable shout. ‘Let's get this over with.'
Dutifully, Antyr doubled across the ante-chamber and, with wilful deference, leaned in a little way through the open door.
The room was a more lavish version of the ante-chamber but the same decor writ large had become garish ostentation. Under other circumstances Antyr might have expected some acidic comment from Tarrian about bad taste, but he was silent. He was learning about their new client.
Menedrion was sprawled in a large chair and though dressed in a tunic and trousers that were predominantly dark green, his black hair and beard, coupled with his lowering face and hunched posture, made him look like a great black spider waiting patiently at the middle of its web.
Antyr stepped inside discreetly.
'Herion, eh?’ Menedrion said, pursing his lips and nodding pensively. ‘A hard day.'
'Yes sir,’ Antyr replied.
'You held well,’ Menedrion continued unexpectedly, beckoning him forward. ‘Broke their cavalry formation and gave me the chance to mop them up.'
Antyr's thoughts were unashamedly ambivalent. Menedrion's squadron had smashed into the broken ranks of the Bethlarii cavalry as they tried to regroup following their unsuccessful charge, and then Arwain's much smaller squadron had burst out of their cover in the woods and charged the Bethlarii infantry's now unprotected flank, breaking them utterly.
The overwhelming relief that had washed over Antyr lingered with him yet, but it was tinged with shame now, a shame that seemed to grow with time, as he also recalled his rejoicing as he had stood in the still solid ranks and watched the cavalry pursue and slaughter the routed infantry.
That the same fate would have befallen him had he and his companions not held firm held increasingly less solace for him against the agonizing folly of it all. What had been a bristling line of enemy pikes and shields singing defiance and battle fury into the boiling blue sky had become a fleeing horde of sons, brothers, lovers, husbands …
'Yes, sir,’ he said, cutting short the recollection.
'What's the matter with the wolf?’ Menedrion asked curtly. Antyr looked down. Tarrian's ears were flat against his head and his tail was between his legs. The vivid, visceral, memories of the battle had washed over to him also.
'He's nervous with strangers,’ Antyr said, kneeling down and putting an arm around him. ‘I'm sorry,’ he said privately to Tarrian. ‘Will you be all right?'
The question was pointless as he knew that Tarrian's reaction would pass as soon as his own emotional response to the memory of the battle passed.
Menedrion nodded. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘He's a powerful-looking animal. It's as well he knows who's master around here.'
'Yes, sir,’ Antyr's parade-ground reflexes had him say.
Tarrian lay down and closed his eyes. Antyr remained by him.
Menedrion fidgeted with his beard for a moment and looked from side to side about the room awkwardly for a while.
'Personally I've little time for this kind of nonsense,’ he began. ‘But…’ He paused and then abandoned this approach. ‘You come highly recommended,’ he decided finally. ‘You'd better be good. I warn you, I know you Guildsmen. I can smell a charlatan a league away, no matter what his trade.’ He levelled a finger at Antyr. ‘And don't think that because I'm who I am you can conveniently double your fee.'
'I understand, sir,’ Antyr replied keeping his voice neutral though tempted to be mildly offended. ‘The Guild have a scale of charges which you can…'
Menedrion waved him to silence. ‘My Counter will attend to all that,’ he said irritably. ‘You just tell me what it is you do and we'll get on with it.'
'I'm a Dream Finder, sir,’ Antyr said, unable to keep some surprise out of his voice. ‘I … find your dreams and … guide you through them…'
'I know that!’ Menedrion said sharply. ‘That's why you're here. But what do you do? Do you want me to go to sleep or something because you'll have the devil of a wait if you do.'
'Oh no, sir,’ Antyr replied, relaxing a little and, without realizing it, beginning to take charge of the powerful figure in front of him. ‘My Companion and I will need a little time to prepare ourselves but when we're ready all you'll have to do is make yourself comfortable, give me your hand and close your eyes. We can do it any time if it isn't convenient now.'
'That's all?'
'That's all, sir,’ Antyr confirmed.
'How long will it take you to prepare yourself?'
Antyr was about to say, ‘A few minutes, sir,’ when a startled thought from Tarrian made him look down. The wolf's eyes opened abruptly, yellow and brilliant. Briefly Antyr caught a glimpse of himself as Tarrian confirmed the night-black sockets that indicated his readiness to begin the search.
So quickly, they both thought simultaneously.
Keeping his eyes downwards, Antyr said, ‘We're ready now, sir, if you wish to begin.'
Menedrion replied by snapping his fingers. Noiselessly, a guard emerged from behind a large tapestry. Antyr started in surprise at his sudden appearance but remained crouched by Tarrian. The man looked impassively at him as he moved to sit in a nearby chair indicated by Menedrion, but his eyes turned away rapidly as Antyr looked up and met his gaze.