The Menin advance party covered the remaining distance to the city quickly, barely slowing when they encountered an emissary sent to greet them from Lord Celao. She was a young woman with pale skin and hair so fair it was almost white, riding a dappled grey horse and looking suitably terrified by the Menin force. On her tunic was the device of the Lords of the Air, the snow-white wings that were the notable difference between Litse white-eyes and those of other tribes.
Kohrad moved out of the way so she could ride alongside Styrax, but it was a few minutes before she managed a coherent sentence, despite being herself proficient in the Menin dialect. Once she had presented Lord Celao's formal greetings Lord Styrax cut her speech short.
'I thank your lord for his greetings. Please offer him my compliments and inform him I am going to visit the Library of Seasons. I believe it is traditional to obstruct no one's passage to the library -I expect this gesture of respect to be extended to me irrespective of past crimes committed by members of our tribes.'
Amber could see by the woman's face that she had grasped the full import of Lord Styrax's words: both distancing himself from the spectre of Deverk Grast that would loom over any conversation between Litse and Menin, and the none-too-veiled threat.
'Yes, your Grace,' she managed to gurgle in reply. 'Lord Celao has invited you to be his guest tonight, however. It would be reassuring for the city to have you enjoy our hospitality, to prove to the people that your army poses them no risk.'
'I'm quite sure that would be nice for them,' Styrax said firmly, 'but it's not going to happen. I would not enjoy Lord Celao's hospitality; the contrast between his half-starved subjects and that bloated warthog would interfere with my appetite.'
If such a thing were possible, the woman's face became whiter.
'Furthermore,' Styrax continued, his voice hardening, 'I couldn't give a damn whether your citizens are reassured or not. The three regiments under the command of Lord Larim will encamp in the Garden of Lilies, at the foot of Hit's Stair. My companions, bar two, will accompany me up into the mountain while the remaining two will deliver messages to Cardinal Sourl and Natai Escral, the Duchess of Byora.
'I have a message for Lord Celao as well, of course. He will attend me in the library tomorrow at noon to negotiate the surrender of the Circle City.'
'Surrender?' the woman coughed, nearly falling off her horse in surprise.
'Your scryers and scouts must have told you that the rest of my army is close behind. If he fails to attend, I will take Ismess by force. I prefer not to have to do that, but if Lord Celao honestly believes he has a chance against my army he is free to test the theory.'
The massive white-eye turned to look straight at her. 'I have eight elite legions close enough to deal with any pre-emptive attack on my person. They are all bored, and they are all hoping that they will at last get a fight.'
The young woman shrank back in her saddle, only too glad to jab her spurs into her horse's flanks and gallop ahead of the Menin.
'I think she'll remember the message well enough,' Styrax laughed. 'Major Amber? Messenger Karapin?'
'Yes, sir,' they replied in almost unison. Amber glanced at Karapin out of the corner of his eye and felt a pang of sympathy for him. He was a humourless man of forty-odd summers who'd been wearing the brass vambraces of the messenger corps for almost thirty. It was unclear whether Karapin realised why he, rather than a soldier of Major Amber's stature, had been chosen to delivery the message to Cardinal Sourl. Unfortunately for Karapin, the Devoted had a history of executing emissaries conveying a threat. Since Sourl was using his religious rather than military title these days, a considered reaction might be too much to hope for.
'The same message to Akell and Byora. I will see you tomorrow.'
The pair saluted and broke off from the small party. As they headed northwest, the clank of armour receded behind them. They rode together in silence.
Amber found he was having to make an effort to keep his eyes on the road. The closer they got, the more the mountain dominated the entire horizon, and the harder it became not to stop and stare at the monstrous blot on the landscape.
He could see why the mountain had got its name. Blackfang looked like a tooth of impossible size that had decayed and broken. It was an ugly stub, with a sliver of a peak, if you could even call it that, rising from behind the cliff-wall Ismess backed onto. The rest of the mountain was a wildly jagged surface that supported so little life a desert might appear abundant in comparison.
Only behind Ismess was there anything other than dead black rock to look at: the single slender peak that at first glance could have been a tower of astonishing size overlooked the valley housing the Library of Seasons. Amber didn't know much about the library itself, only that it was reputed to house a scholarly collection unrivalled throughout the Land, one assembled when the Litse were still the power in the region.
'Karapin?' Amber said suddenly, startling the army messenger. 'Did you see those troops with Lord Larim? Why do you think he ordered regiments from the Arohat Tenth to escort him?'
'I do not believe it is our place to question Lord Styrax's orders, Major,' Karapin replied solemnly. His heavy, accent was slightly reminiscent of Lord Styrax; they both came from the outer lands, outside the Ring of Fire that was the Menin heartland.
Mentally, Amber apologised to Karapin. The man wasn't an idiot – he most likely knew he was on a suicide mission, but he'd do his job cheerfully – or whatever passed for cheerful – because men from Lord Styrax's home region possessed a loyalty even the devoted Major Amber could barely comprehend.
'I didn't mean to question them,' he said, sounding conciliatory. 'I was just trying to understand what he'll require of us. The Cheme legions have been his elite for years; he's always trusted them to keep him safe. I hadn't heard that had changed.'
'Your point, Major?' Karapin's eyes were on the buildings ahead of them. They had passed the boundary marker that divided Ismess territory from Byora a few minutes before. There were farm houses now, clustered around a small square fort; no soldiers yet in sight, but they both knew they'd be challenged soon.
'My point is that our Lord does nothing without reason,' Amber went on, working it out in his mind. 'Not having his best regiment accompany him into an enemy city? There was a reason.' Amber paused as he saw movement around the gate of the fort. 'This trip into the Library of Seasons, he's not expecting it to go well. The Arohat Tenth are decent enough troops, but not so good that he'll lose sleep over their loss.'
If Karapin had anything to add on the subject he failed to voice it, and Amber didn't bother saying any more. He checked his weapons one last time, ensuring they would be ready at a moment's notice, and adjusted the black standard bearing Lord Styrax's insignia. After that there was nothing to do but ride and wait, so he started to whistle instead.
Karapin continued in silence, even when at last soldiers confronted them.
The soldiers sent to escort them looked young enough to be recruits. They travelled on a long curving road that appeared to skirt all the way around Byora, which was itself nestled between two jutting arms of what looked like impassable bare rock, riven with great crevasses.
As they marched over a wooden bridge crossing one small river, their escort split in half and Amber gave Karapin a comradely nod as the army messenger continued towards a second bridge.