south of Gotha's isle and a little to the east, the great island of Alaron darkened the surface of the sea, forming the eastern bulwark of the entire Moonshae group.
The southern portion of Alaron, mostly rolling hill and fertile dale, fell under the dominion of the High King himself, for this was Callidyrr. The Fairheight mountains formed the northern frontier of that kingdom. The remainder of the island, a rough and tumbled expanse of rocky crag and icy fjord, fell under the sway of the northmen of Gnarhelm.
In the heights of the range, farthest cantrev to the north and west of Callidyrr, was the Earldom of Blackstone, and here met two men to whom the workings of Talos were very significant indeed.
They gathered in a darkened hall at the heart of Caer Blackstone, the earl's manor. The Earl of Fairheight himself leaned forward, his scowling features etched in the light of an oil lamp as he listened earnestly to the hoarse whisper of the second man's voice.
The latter sat in the shadows, visible only by the soft outlines of his dark cloak and the hood that fell far forward on his head, masking his face.
'The money, then?' inquired the cloaked figure. His voice was like the rasp of a file on coarse wood. 'Have you the coin for my labors?'
'Of course.' Blackstone, too, whispered. He hefted a sack from the floor-the brawny lord needed both hands to lift it-and grunted as he set it on the table.
'Excellent. My apprentices maintain their charms and beseechments. It pleases Talos to continue his onslaughts against the farms of the Ffolk, and your payment has ensured that we can purchase the necessary components to extend the castings indefinitely.'
'With a little extra, no doubt, to compensate for your troubles,' growled Blackstone, his humor very dry.
The nameless robed figure made no response, nor indeed was any reply necessary. For five years this man had represented himself as the agent of Talos the Destroyer, claiming influence over that capricious god. Supported by the wealthy coffers of the earl, he had exhorted his vengeful god to smite the Moonshaes with all manner of storm-wracked violence.
'My god works his violence against the farms, while you get rich from your mines. It is a fair trade,' suggested the stranger.
'Aye-satisfying to both, as long as your god does as he is bid!' grunted Blackstone, his mind already considering other problems.
The other man looked at the earl, his eyes hooded but blazing scorn at the man's arrogance. Blackstone missed the expression, but undoubtedly he wouldn't have noticed even had he looked up.
'And the queen?' The stranger asked the question. 'When do you expect her?'
'I don't.' Blackstone shook his black mane of hair. 'I received word today. The elder princess, Alicia, journeys here in place of the queen. I took it as good news.' The black-maned lord nodded his head. 'The High Queen was once a druid. I'd rather she not be the one to have to condemn a Moonwell.'
'Do not be too delighted,' cautioned the robed figure. 'The daughters of Kendrick are not without capability.'
'Do you mean that we should fear her?' asked the earl in disbelief.
'It is a wise man who practices eternal vigilance. Now, I must make haste to Callidyrr. I, too, have a meeting with a princess of the isles.'
The lamp still flickered, and the shadows remained thick, but even in the darkness, the earl could see that his robed visitor had gone.
The party of Alicia, Tavish, and Keane rode alone, since the reign of Tristan Kendrick had seen a virtual end to banditry and danger on the highways. At first the queen had planned to send along an escort of the king's guards, but Alicia had convinced her, with little difficulty, that this was unnecessary. Indeed, the road was well traveled and passed through many small cantrevs, and every few miles in the countryside, a cozy inn offered shelter to the weary traveler.
The smooth-paved King's Road connected the towns of Callidyrr and Blackstone, twisting and climbing around the foothills that lay between the two communities. As far as Keane was concerned, this avenue was the only thing that made the trip-a two-day ride through lashing rains and winds that howled like dervishes-remotely possible. Alicia and Tavish, however, seemed to take no note of the weather, and their high spirits taunted the teacher for every league of the ride.
Consequently Keane went to great pains to point out that he was an educator and scholar, not an adventurer.
'Ah, but you studied the spells of sorcery,' Tavish pointed out. 'And at a very young age, as well. I should think you'd have a wanting to test those in the real world, wouldn't you?'
'The world of my library and study is quite real, thank you,' Keane sniffed, responding to Tavish. 'And one can sample it without suffering the constant thrill of water trickling along one's spine!'
'You gave up those studies when I was still a girl,' Alicia reminded him. 'Why?'
Keane shrugged, frowning. As always, this was an issue he preferred to avoid. 'Wisest thing I ever did,' he grunted finally. The princess continued to wait for an answer. 'Some people are suited to magic, and others very definitely are not! Now, can we stop somewhere for a cup of hot tea before my teeth chatter to nubs?'
'Stop complaining!' Alicia cried, finally exasperated. 'We've slept indoors every night. We've even stopped at inns for our midday meals! The horses move at a walk along this smooth road. This is not an adventure!'
'It's plenty of adventure for me,' retorted the tutor, wrapping his scarf tightly around his face and sinking into his saddle, a ball of misery.
For a time, the rain lifted enough that they could see craggy foothills around them. The road followed the winding floor of a wide, flat-bottomed valley, twisting through long and gradual turns as it led upward into the hills. Patches of pine and newly leafed aspen swathed the slopes, looking as soft as down in the distance. A shallow, gravel-bottomed stream rumbled and spumed beside the road, carrying off the excess water delivered by the heavy clouds.
Finally the highway veered from the stream and crested a low rise between a pair of blunt, rocky tors. The gray clouds hung overhead, but for the time being, they held their moisture intact, so the trio saw the valley before them unobscured by showers or mist. They reined in, sharing a mutual but initially silent reaction.
Despite the absence of rain, the air of Blackstone was far from clear. A dark, smoky haze thickened the atmosphere, obscuring the view of the far side of the vale. A mixed stench of sulfur and coal and other, more acrid, odors swept upward, encircling them as they passed the rim of the valley and started the gradual descent toward the cantrev.
From this distance, the dark spots of tunnel mouths were visible near the bases of the slopes that ringed the valley. Black chimneys jutted into the air from a long row of large, sooty buildings. From many of these, fresh gouts of thick smoke belched forth, adding to the haze that lay in the air.
'Kind of takes your breath away, doesn't it?' Tavish observed wryly as their noses and throats stung from the bitter air.
'I was here years ago,' Keane noted. 'It was always dirty, but never like
Alicia looked around in sadness. She knew that the gold, and to a lesser extent the iron, from these mines and forges was the lifeblood of the kingdom, but the extent of the devastation sickened her. She felt somehow that this was wrong.
The feeling lingered during the final walk to, and through, the cantrev itself. It was late afternoon, and raucous laughter erupted from many of the countless saloons, brothels, and taverns on the town's main street. Though this avenue had once been part of the same King's Road that had brought them from Callidyrr, in the town, the graveled surface had long been trampled into an all-encompassing sea of mud.
The earl's manor house was in reality a small castle perched on a low knoll on the far side of the cantrev. A wall of stone, topped with a castellated rampart, encircled the great structure, while the Blackstone banner-a midnight-black background, bordered in gold, emblazoned with a crossed pattern of swords and shields-sagged limply in the windless air over the gatehouse.
They felt a growing sense of oppression as the road climbed toward the great structure of Caer Blackstone. Passing underneath the gray gates, Alicia felt an urge to whirl her horse around and flee. She would have been
