The Twilight herald

'Of course. What I can tell you is that we were cheered by news of your exploits arriving with the death notice.'

'My exploits? The battle in Narkang?'

'Exactly. Folk are calling you Isak Stormcaller; they say that you wield a power Lord Bahl never did.'

'Bahl rode the storm in his own way.' Isak grimaced and waggled his pure white fingers in Dupres' face. 'But he didn't pay the price I had to.'

'So that's true?' Dupres asked in astonishment. 'You really won touched by Nartis when you called the storm?'

'Not exactly. That was the day Bahl died – Nartis was close to me that day, his hand on my shoulder. If it hadn't been for that, 1 wouldn't have survived when I called the storm myself. To call such power requires a bargain of sorts, I'm told, The magic almost killed me, and it stripped all colour from my arm. The mage I spoke to said that if I had died, it would have continued until all colour was lost from my body – or perhaps that it would have continued draining colour until I was dead; the jury was out on that detail.'

'Magic,' Dupres shivered. 'I'm glad I'm not so blessed.' He scratched at the red embroidering on his sleeve, a band of grapevines that en¬circled the left-hand sleeve. The right sleeve bore a variety of fruits hanging from branches. It prompted Isak to wonder whether Dupres had to serve wine with one hand and food with the other. He vaguely remembered Tila saying something like that, but the details were lost to him.

'Magic has its advantages,' Isak pointed out, vaguely feeling as though he should defend it, but without knowing quite why. 'If you're not giving in to your own base desires, the price you pay is worth¬while.'

Dupres grimaced. 'Still. Paying prices you cannot guess at, consort¬ing with daemons – I'd rather not. I know its uses, and that you have such power relieves many fears. To know our armies are still led by a powerful man is reassuring in troubling times, but I'm deeply glad it's not me having to do it.'

Isak grunted. 'But what if my every act seems to make times more troubled?'

Dupres didn't have any answer to that and the pair fell into silence. Isak's gaze drifted the length of the table. There was nothing left of the meal aside from piled platters of fruit. Men were leaning on the table, now, debating the ramifications of executing Duke Certinse. The room was lit mainly by four brass candle-wheels hanging from the balcony where Isak watched. The iron chain holding one was tan-talisingly within reach; Isak could see in his mind the white droplets of wax falling, if he only reached out and gave the chain a twist. His hand actually twitched towards it before he remembered himself and stopped.

'look at my faithful subjects,' Isak muttered, swinging his goblet Inwards them. The remaining wine slopped up, but fell back into the cup rather than dripping down the cleavage of the woman beneath. isak shared a relieved grin with Dupres and continued, 'They all sit there talking happily, despite their master having disappeared from the room, Surely one of them should he wondering if I've fallen into

the privy by now.'

Perhaps they give you more credit than that,' the steward replied, warming to the irreverent conversation, 'or they are secretly con¬cerned, but etiquette restrains them from voicing their concerns.'

Isak nodded with mock gloom. 'More than once over the last year I've suspected that tradition will be the death of me.'

At the table below Tila's voice cut though the wider conversation. 'But that encourages Lord Isak to bypass the rule of law. Surely the examples of Lord Atro and Lord Bahl demonstrate the need for con¬stant restraint, rather than encouraging a lord to exercise religious authority.'

'Perhaps, my dear,' replied the countess, an indulgent tone in her voice. Isak could just imagine Tila's expression. 'But I do not feel it is appropriate for dirty laundry to be done in public'

'Dirty laundry, my Lady, is done by servants,' Vesna joined, 'as I believe you were at pains to point out. But, while he will be surprised by its source, I'm sure Chief Steward Lesarl will be glad of your en¬dorsement that he need not bother with legal technicalities; it does take up such a large proportion of his time.'

'Hah, now he is one I would like to see publicly hung!' the countess exclaimed, 'and from what I hear, Lord Isak shares that opinion.'

'The Chief Steward is loyal to his tribe,' Vesna said firmly, stamp¬ing firmly on any such rumours. 'Lesarl will serve Lord Isak as well as he did Lord Bahl, and he will continue to do the Farlan a great service. Now that Duke Certinse is under guard and his uncle dead, you should be more concerned about enemies from abroad rather than anyone within the tribe.'

'And who poses a greater threat than that sadistic megalomanic, who will no doubt be spending every waking hour devising ways to bypass your noble lord?'

'The White Circle is the most immediate. They proved themselves to be our enemies in Narkang, and while their leader may be dead, t he organisation is not. You heard tonight that Siala has been quickest to act; there can be no confusion as to why she has taken direct control over Scree. Without that city under her control she cannot be sure of winning the war in Tor Milist – indeed, resolving that conflict must be her first priority, to free up her troops. With Scree and Tor Milist under her control, she will not be challenged for leadership of the Circle, and that will give her the powerbase to mount a strong resist ance against any action we might take.'

'Your assessment sounds right,' Suzerain Foleh said. The portly old man had always been, by his own admission, more a merchant than a soldier and he was happy to concede authority in the military field to the hero of the tribe, despite Vesna being his social inferior. 'But I have heard the Circle is plagued by infighting, lacking any sort of controlling structure. Wouldn't any attempt to create a kingdom from those three city-states just as easily provoke an internal struggle that would become as drawn-out as the war in Tor Milist itself?'

'Surely the first step to defeating your enemy is to know what he wants,' the Countess of Lehm interrupted. She directed an enquiring look up and down the table, and asked the assembled men of politics and war, 'We still do not know what the White Circle's ultimate goal is. Should we not be directing our efforts towards that, before we go as far as invading Scree?'

She was greeted with silence. The question of the White Circle's motivation was long-standing, and the only people sitting at the table able to answer had kept their own counsel. Isak watched their faces carefully. He knew more than most, and even he still hadn't made up his mind what to do.

'For the moment we should consider Siala's goal to be a three-city state,' Vesna said cautiously. 'If we prevent that, we block the pursuit of any further ambition, at least for the time being; their position is precarious and their priority is now survival.'

'I think that's my cue,' Isak muttered as he straightened up and raised his voice. 'I'm glad you think that is the priority,' he called down to Vesna, 'because you're going to be the one to do that.'

Everyone looked up in surprise, Suzerain Foleh blanching at hearing a voice echoing down from the servants' station. He peered up past the candles, not quite believing Isak was really standing up there.

'My Lord? What are you doing up there?'

'Enjoying a drink with your excellent steward.' Isak raised his gob-let and gestured back at the way he'd come. '1 found a stairway and wondered where it led, nothing more.' He tried not to beam at the astonished faces gaping up at him, but he did find it terribly entertain-ing to see the band's finest completely speechless.

'What am 1 going to be doing, my Lord?' Vesna asked. He knew Isak welI enough not to have been too surprised by the white-eye's actions.

The lull in Tor Mihst will not last long, and we need to ensure Priata Leferna does not defeat the duke. The answer should be obvious enough.