‘You will pay it, Grave Thief,’ Isak muttered, ‘and for that I’m sorry.’
‘Isak, enough! Your share is more than any man or woman should ever have to bear. There are no apologies to make, all right? Now, can you get up? King Emin is leaving soon.’
Isak nodded and sat up on the bed, wincing. ‘Where’s he going?’
‘South; there is one Menin army undefeated on Narkang lands. His intelligence says they have occupied a town and are holding position — they have no plan, but they are showing no interest in surrender, and none of the local forces are strong enough to dislodge ten thousand Menin veterans.’
‘While we go north,’ Isak commented, easing his bare toes onto the rug below his bed. He was in Moorview Castle’s royal suite, a grand bedchamber reserved for the king, but Emin had insisted Isak take the room. There was a second smaller bed for Mihn in the far corner, and an enormous wardrobe covering most of the right-hand wall, but all Isak cared about was the enormous oak bed that looked as if it had been built for a white-eye of his size and weight.
As soon as his feet were on the ground Hulf jumped to the ground and gave each foot a cursory lick before darting towards the door.
‘I’ll dress myself,’ Isak said, watching the dog. ‘Go and let him out before he ruins any more of this rug.’ He pointed to a tasselled corner that was now well chewed.
Mihn encouraged Hulf out after him and left Isak in peace. The white-eye dressed slowly, wincing as he slipped on his tunic. He was fumbling ineffectively at his boots when Mihn returned to help.
Once dressed he belted Eolis around his waist, alongside the leather bag containing the Skull of Ruling, and headed out into the bustle of the main part of the castle. Isak was forced to acknowledge two dozen salutes and bows, from men of the Kingsguard and Brotherhood for the main, before he reached the half-moon-shaped hall where the king was directing proceedings.
‘Isak,’ King Emin called, coming to greet the stooped white-eye with a warm smile. ‘Your powers of recovery never cease to amaze me. It’s good to see you upright, my friend — although I will suggest you don’t cauterise your own wounds in future.’
The king was dressed for travel in uncertain times, but unsurprisingly, his green-and gold brigandine was covered with the finest, most intricate stitching that portrayed branches of oak leaves with beehives hanging from them, as well as his usual bee device.
Isak took the king’s arm and muttered his thanks as he looked around the assembled company. Doranei and Veil were in their king’s lee as usual, while Legana and the witch of Llehden were presiding over a group of ten or so people sitting at a long table that occupied one half of the room. Vesna, Lahk and Tiniq were among them.
But Isak barely noticed these details. There was one figure, standing just inside the doorway, who instantly dominated his attention, and if he had looked around at the other faces in the room it would have been clear he wasn’t alone there.
Hulf stood out on the terrace at a wary distance, his ears flat against his head as he edged forward, torn between keeping away and running to Isak’s side.
‘Just as well not all men stare so. Someone might get jealous.’
Isak took a step forward, and Hulf darted past the newcomer, determinedly placing himself in front of Isak, but so close to his feet the white-eye had to stop dead.
‘Your puppy’s better trained than mine,’ Isak said at last, one eye on Doranei. The grim King’s Man hadn’t moved. He kept his arms folded, making the point that he was at his king’s command here.
‘Yet they share the same adorable eyes,’ Zhia said with a smile that showed her small, bright teeth. ‘I’ve discovered mine is not averse to having his tummy tickled either. Is that how you got the tattoos on him? I’m glad to see reports of your untimely death have proved inaccurate — in the long run at least.’ Sapphire eyes flashed darkly in the shadow of the dark grey shawl she wore pulled right over her head to protect her skin from the dull morning light outside, but there was a drawn look to her face that even Isak could see. She had on a strange combination of clothes: long strips of cloth decorated with small blue flowers that combined to form a long skirt but would not restrict movement if she needed to fight, over a more functional pair of trousers and long boots. She wore a plain fitted jacket, with blue silk gloves that extended from elbow to fingertip and mirrored the pattern on her skirt.
‘You’re hurt,’ Isak said at last, finding he had no response to her comment.
Zhia inclined her head. ‘Fortunately I heal even quicker than you do, and there are a still a few meals wandering lost on the moor.’
‘Zhia and her brother attempted to stop the battle before it began,’ Emin explained, watching Isak’s reaction carefully. ‘My mages sensed something violent was taking place within the Menin lines. Now we have an explanation for what that was.’
‘You will, of course, note the slight scepticism in the king’s voice,’ Zhia said. As she shifted the weight on her feet slightly Isak could see the discomfort it caused her. The vampire drew her right arm closer in to her body. She wore her long handled sword on her belt, but she didn’t look like she was in much condition to draw it. ‘I had forgotten what a suspicious man he is; even with my brother’s Crystal Skull in his possession, he wonders. However, here I am at your mercy, ready to scratch Doranei behind the ears and help you in your endeavours.’
‘Help?’
She inclined her head. ‘You managed to defeat a man created to be peerless, one who twice cut my brother down in single combat. If that does not indicate you are capable of ending this all, I don’t know what does. King Emin remains cautious, but he understands my argument.’
‘You will forgive me a few misgivings,’ Emin interjected, ‘when you have spent this long not helping our cause, whether or not you’ve hindered it.’
‘And they are forgiven,’ she replied with a sudden, dazzling smile that Isak felt like the heat of a fire on his skin. From their reactions, Doranei and Emin did too: the king drew back slightly while his agent had to fight to avoid taking a step towards her. ‘All the same, here I am at your disposal and, I suspect, still likely to be useful.’
‘What makes you so sure of that?’ Isak asked.
‘You have Vorizh’s journal. I assume by now you’ve translated it.’
King Emin glanced at Doranei. ‘I had heard you and Koezh didn’t know what was within it.’
‘That’s true enough,’ Zhia said with a snort, ‘but one doesn’t have to be seven millennia old and the brother of the author to guess what aspect of my utterly deranged sibling’s life you’re interested in. It could be his exploits during the Great War or his experiments on wyverns — or perhaps Doranei is looking for a living male relative of mine from whom to ask permission.’ She blew Doranei a kiss that only made his cheeks colour more.
Then she continued, ‘However, I’m guessing it’s because he stole the most terrible weapon in existence from the Chief of the Gods.’ Zhia shrugged. ‘It’s just a guess, mind.’
‘And you choose your side,’ Isak stated.
‘I knew the time was coming,’ Zhia said, ‘and now I’ve chosen. Any objections about the time I took to decide are really not of concern.’
From King Emin’s expression it was clear he had no intention of taking the debate any further. ‘On that note, I’ll take my leave. The Kingsguard and the bulk of the army will be travelling south with me, to negotiate the surrender of the last remaining Menin army group, and make ourselves obvious on the border so General Afasin down in Mustet doesn’t get any ideas. The Ghosts have their orders. Half of them are leaving with me, the rest will act as escort for you, Isak. I leave it up to you to decide how much of our plans you reveal, however much she’s guessed thus far.’
Emin reached for Isak’s arm again and grasped it tightly. ‘Look after yourself, my friend. I will see you soon.’
Isak nodded in response. Clearly the king’s farewells to the rest had already been made, for he wasted no time in leaving, soldiers and generals clustered at his heels. Doranei spared one final look in Zhia’s direction before following, despite the fact he would be travelling with Isak rather than his king. Isak saw her gaze soften for a moment, but in that look there was no hint whether she was a true ally or something less. A moment later the inscrutable expression she normally wore returned.
Isak sighed, gesturing for her to join the people sitting at the long table.
What assurances could we trust anyway? Logic and instinct are as good reasons as any to trust her, and we will certainly need the help.
