Storm Breaking

their value in the town would be seriously depreciated if any more came on the market. Surplus Imperial clothing, surplus hand tools, surplus weapons. Some of Tremane's people had argued against that last, pointing out that he would be arming those who had lately been his enemies. But Tremane felt, and Darkwind agreed with him, that giving them weapons demonstrated his trust in them. It was a gesture worthy of a King.

Besides, these new liegemen needed the weaponry that Tremane gave them. Their own supplies had been depleted in their war against the Imperial forces. If they were going to rid themselves of their land's boggles, they needed weapons.

This wasn't at all altruistic. Practically speaking, Tremane would rather that they went after their boggles instead of turning to Imperial soldiers for help. They knew the lay of their own land, where a boggle might lair, where it could run. His men wouldn't, couldn't. Better to let the local experts handle it, if there was any chance they could.

By the time the presentation was over, Baron Peregryn and his men were, however, so happy they were beside themselves. They never even noticed that Tremane had gone pale, and was sweating, his hands clenching the arms of his throne so hard that the knuckles were white.

:He isn't getting up, because he can't,: Elspeth said, her Mindvoice sharp with alarm. :It's more than simple disorientation this time. It's really striking him hard.:

:What's wrong?: he asked, hoping she'd know.

:I can't tell, and neither can Gwena.: There was frustration there as well as alarm. :All I can tell for certain is that he's in nearly the same state as he was when his earth-sense was first awakened. This has something to do with the earth-sense itself, and something to do with this new area he's taken seisin of.:

Neither of them dared move to help him, not while the Baron and his people were still present; Tremane was clearly attempting to conceal his weakness and it was their responsibility to follow his wishes. He reached for her hand as she reached for his; their hands closed on each other and they stood waiting, tensely, while the last of the amenities were played out.

Finally the Baron and all of his men trooped out, to be accommodated overnight in one of the barracks. In the morning, Tremane would meet with them again and give them warning and instructions concerning what everyone here was now calling the 'Final Storm,' and what to do to weather it. Then, when everything had been organized for their return, they would go back home with a small caravan of supply sledges. Only after the doors closed behind them, could Tremane fold his body over his knees and his own people rush to help him.

But he waved them away before they could do more than ask him what was wrong.

'I'll be all right,' he said, and Darkwind let out the breath he had been holding, for he sounded normal, just a bit shaken. 'It's nothing physical, and I don't believe it's anything to worry about. Just—something unexpected just happened; let me sit here for a moment or two more while I get over it.' He looked over at Darkwind and smiled ruefully. 'Quite frankly, it feels as if someone just dropped me off a very high cliff, and I stopped just short of the ground.'

Elspeth knelt at his side, and Darkwind joined her. 'It's the new Barony, isn't it?' she asked. 'It's something there. Is it the Storms starting again?'

As if her questions gave him a focus for his own sensations, he seized on them. 'Yes. No. Yes, it's Adair, and no, it's not the Storms. I don't know what it is, but it's not—no wait.' His eyes took on that far-off gaze again. 'It's the border, the northern border. Adair is on the northern border, and something has happened up there. Something important. Something that changes everything.'

'What—' one of Tremane's generals began, but Tremane just shook his head, dumbly.

'I don't know,' he repeated. 'I just know—it's something completely new.'

'What's on the northern border?' someone else asked, and looked at Elspeth for the answer.

She had one for that question, but she had turned as pale as Tremane. 'Iftel,' she said, and her hand clenched tight on Darkwind's. 'Iftel. The one place in this part of the world that no one knows anything about.'

'So that's the message?' Tremane said, his eyebrows rising. 'Just that? Nothing more?'

With his recovery, the meeting among Darkwind, Elspeth, and Tremane that had been interrupted had been moved back to the office in his quarters, but by now they had all forgotten whatever it was they had been talking about, for a message had come by way of signal-towers from the North. Unfortunately, it only confirmed that something had happened, and gave them very little other information.

'That's all there was, sir—Your Majesty—' the aide recovered from his mistake. 'Just that the border with Iftel suddenly opened, and a new delegation of something friendly was coming down here to meet with you. I'm afraid,' he continued apologetically, 'that the signal language is not very specific.'

'The signal did say they were friendly, though? You're sure you're not misreading