ahead as forward scouts in case they were attacked on sight.
After a couple of hours of unimpeded travel, Isak began to wonder if there was anyone around at all.
‘It’s uncharacteristically thoughtful of my brother,’ Zhia said to the Land in general, ‘to ensure we can travel only under cover of night. He was never usually one for practicalities.’
‘Self-interest,’ Doranei grunted from her side. ‘He wants someone to find and use Termin Mystt or he wouldn’t have left a journal in the first place. So he might as well tailor his directions to the two most likely to do what he wants.’
Zhia patted him on the arm affectionately. ‘That’s a little too direct a thought process for him, pretty one.’
‘It all sounds rational enough,’ Veil said, riding behind Doranei. ‘Might be he was having a good day?’
‘You don’t build a state in a day,’ Zhia replied, ‘and that’s what Vorizh did in Vanach — rebuilt the whole society according to his needs. That requires more than just one good day. It takes time even with skilled underlings to carry out your orders. The hierarchy of Vanach is a strict one, with every citizen finely graded. Only Black Swords, commissars and priests can travel between provinces at all, let alone head towards Vanach City. Vorizh coopted an entire nation and imposed these rules upon the people, but don’t expect all of it to be rational or obvious.’
‘Well, ain’t you just a ray of sunshine?’ Daken muttered from further back. ‘Still, I’m fine with leavin’ you to figure out what yer bugshit-crazy brother is about. I’m just looking for something t’kill.’
‘Then you’ll get your wish soon enough,’ Zhia replied cheerily. ‘We’re being watched.’
Isak tore his gaze away from the ground beneath him and sat upright, but couldn’t spot anyone. There were trees beyond the fifty yards of open ground on the left, while their path ran beside the tree-line on the right. ‘Where?’ he asked.
‘Ahead,’ Zhia said, ‘under cover of those tall pines: there’s a company of men.’
Isak still couldn’t make anything out under the trees, but they were still a few hundred yards away from the spot Zhia had indicated. If they continued on their current course they would pass within a dozen yards.
‘I can smell them,’ Zhia confirmed, flashing Isak a quick smile. ‘One is carrying an injury; his blood is on the wind.’
Isak nodded and closed his eyes briefly. With one finger he brushed the Crystal Skull hanging from his belt and opened his mind to its stored energy. A dizzying burst of power fizzed through his mind and he hunched low over Toramin’s neck, gripping his saddle tightly until it had passed. After the initial discomfort came a more familiar sensation: the warm metallic tang in his mouth as magic raced through his veins and traced a delicate path over his many scars.
He felt a lurch as his senses caught a breeze and drifted up into the night air. The starlight prickled faintly on his soul as he moved up above the trees; the lesser moon, Kasi, a warm, familiar touch, with Alterr a sharp, clear flavour in his mind. The cool presence of clouds hung above him as he reached out with the dew drifting slowly down and caressed the grass ahead.
The Land was dormant there, with few night creatures anywhere nearby, but Isak could not tell whether that was because of the scent of a vampire, or the distant presence of Ghenna that occasionally appeared on the edge of perception. A breeze shivered through the trees and Isak gave a soft gasp as it seemed to run right through him, but he continued his questing and soon found the waiting soldiers.
Moving outwards, he drifted away from the excited clicks of the bats darting around the treetops and plunged down into the woods on the right. His nose was full of the scents of bracken and bark, but he found no bright human minds shining in the dark there and soon let the wind carry him back to the warmth of his body.
He opened his eyes and blinked down at his huge horse, still walking patiently behind Daken’s smaller steed. Beside him, he saw the whites of Mihn’s eyes looking up at him. The small man already had his boots off and the magic of his tattoos was gathering the night around him.
‘Go — Veil and Leshi, you too. When Alterr next goes behind a cloud, circle around behind them. They’ll be expecting to ambush anyone coming this way and we can’t be sure there’s a commissar among them.’
‘Did you sense a mage?’ Zhia asked as Mihn looked up at the greater moon.
Isak shook his head. ‘You might see more.’
‘Certainly, but I’m more interested in gauging the extent of your remaining powers. You’re not long returned to the Land, and Vorizh is certain to have some surprises in store for whoever takes Termin Mystt.’
‘Planning on being elsewhere?’
‘No — but he might well test you alone.’ She returned her attention to the Carastars ahead just as a cloud began to advance across Alterr and the moonlit ground around them began to dim. ‘What’s more, the closer we get to Vanach, the more likely there will be mages, and I doubt any are tolerated outside the Commissar Brigade. If they see how strong we are, they may perceive us as a threat.’
‘You want to kill every mage we meet?’
Zhia laughed. ‘No — I’m saying we might have to.’
They rode on in silence. Isak tried to follow the three men he’d sent off on foot, but they had disappeared entirely before they had gone twenty yards and he quickly gave up staring out across the still plain. When he looked down, he realised Hulf was also gone, but the dog had vanished just as silently; he had adapted to the witch’s tattoos as quickly as any of the Brotherhood or Ghosts. He realised there was nothing he could do about it; he’d have to rely on the fact that Hulf wouldn’t attack a man unless he was going for Isak.
No Carastar will see or hear him. Maybe it’s better Hulf keeps away; he’ll most likely get trampled in a fight.
They covered the remaining ground quickly, the soldiers among them surreptitiously loosening the ties on their weapons as they rode. Half-anticipating the flash of a crossbow bolt at any moment, Isak found himself angling his scarred belly away from the trees where the mercenaries were waiting.
‘That’s far enough!’ called a gravelly voice in the Narkang dialect. ‘Throw down your weapons and dismount.’
Doranei glanced back at Isak, who nodded to him.
‘Why?’ The King’s Man demanded on behalf of them all. ‘Sounds like a stupid idea with all the dangerous sorts round here.’
‘Your choice,’ laughed the Carastar. ‘Keb!’
Nothing happened. A hail of arrows failed to leap from beneath the trees. In the hush, Isak thought he heard a grunt of puzzled consternation before the speaker gave another shout: ‘Keb, Dass — shoot him!’
Still nothing happened, and after a minute or two Doranei gestured for the group to keep on moving — at which point two men armed with spears broke from cover and charged towards them. Before anyone else could react, Daken had hurled his axe over-arm; it caught the nearest in the chest and smashed him to the ground in a spray of blood. The second mercenary yelped and threw himself to one side, abandoning his spear in his terror and ending up on his knees with his friend’s blood running down his cheeks.
The white-eye slid from his saddle and walked unconcernedly over to him to retrieve his axe. Another Carastar ran to intercept him before he could retrieve his weapon, but Mihn appeared from the lee of a tree, swinging his staff. He caught the man in the gut and sent him wheezing to the ground.
A second appeared, lunging with a spear, but Mihn had already skipped out of the way as though performing some dainty dance and before the mercenary could react he had lifted one leg and slapped his bare sole against the shaft of the spear, sending the head plunging down into the ground. Without pausing, Mihn snapped his leg forward and kicked the Carastar in the face with enough force to knock the man flat.
‘Enough!’ shouted a new voice from the trees. ‘No more killing.’
Doranei cocked his head at the new speaker: this one wasn’t a Narkang mercenary, as the first had been; most likely that was a Vanach accent, which meant he was a commissar.
‘We claim the sanctuary of Alterr’s light,’ Doranei announced, hoping it meant something to the man.
There was a pause.
‘The first sign?’ the commissar asked in a stunned voice, more to himself than any other. The shock of Doranei’s claim seemed to have driven the wind from his lungs, and when he emerged into the moonlight the man walked as though dazed. He was a large man with thick limbs, much to Isak’s surprise. They were renowned as blackmailers and cruel bullies, using fear and spiteful words to turn men against each other, so Isak had expected some sort of rat-faced weakling who hid behind his authority.
