A second passed before Zerreiss answered. ‘I had another dream,’ he explained. ‘I was standing on the terrace of a fortress. The very fortress we conquered not a week since. In my dream I stood there, as I did on the day we took it, surveying our victory. And I saw him again.’
‘The same man you’ve dreamt of before?’
‘Yes. If they can be called dreams.’
‘What happened?’
‘Happened? Nothing. Well, nothing and everything. You look at me strangely, my friends, but that’s the only way I can express it.’
‘Do you have any idea yet who this man is?’ Wellem asked.
‘I’m no nearer knowing that than when he first invaded my sleep.’
‘And you’re still sure he’s a real person? Not…forgive me, sir, but not your mind’s fabrication?’
‘I’ve no doubt he’s real.’
‘Then maybe you should consider yourself the subject of a magical attack,’ the old campaigner stated matter- of-factly.
‘I don’t think you need worry yourself on that score. Whoever this man might be, I don’t think he’s a sorcerer. Though I sense there is a connection to magic in some way.’
‘Isn’t that a contradiction, sir?’
‘Am I not a contradiction myself, Wellem? Why should this man be any less of an enigma?’
‘But what has he to do with your new instructions, sir?’ his younger aide wanted to know.
Zerreiss smiled. ‘Trust you to bring me back to earth, Sephor. No, don’t be embarrassed; I need pulling to the point sometimes. Simply put, he’s the reason for my fresh orders.’
‘You’d change your plans, the whole direction of the campaign, because of somebody you’ve dreamed about, sir?’
‘Not so much change as accelerate.’
‘But why, sir?’
‘I sense he’s nearer, physically, than he was. Don’t ask me how I know. Or why I, of all people, should start to believe in unexplained intuition. I only know that if there’s a chance of being in this man’s presence, I should take it.’
‘What do you think you might gain from that?’
‘Have I ever steered you down a wrong path?’
‘No, sir,’ they answered in unison.
‘Then trust me now, as you have in the past.’
‘It’s not that,’ Sephor assured him. ‘We just want to understand.’
‘So do I. That’s what I’ve been trying to say.’ He sighed. ‘The best way I can put it is that he has a… significance. And I can’t help feeling it might tie in with a particular thought I’ve long been haunted by.’
‘Sir?’
‘Could there be another like me?’
It was obvious the notion had never occurred to his aides. Sephor recovered first. ‘We’ve always thought of you as unique, sir.’
‘I have, too. Or rather, I feared it. My whole life I’ve wondered if I was alone in possessing the talent. And if I am, why? Why me? I hoped there were others, but as the years passed that hope withered. But suppose I’m not exceptional. Can you see what that would mean?’
‘Allies?’ Wellem offered.
‘More than that. I didn’t choose the gift I carry, and sometimes the burden of it seems hard to bear. How much easier it would be if there were others to share the effort.’
‘I’ve never doubted your abilities, sir.’
‘I know. But it feels a bit different from my side.’
‘You have us,’ Sephor assured him, ‘and not just us; there are thousands now who believe in you and want to support you.’
The warlord laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder. ‘And I’m more grateful for that than I can say. But there’s something even you can’t give me. For all your loyalty and trust, you can’t empathise. Not truly. You can’t know what it’s like to be alone the way I am. If you could, you’d understand why I have to find him.’
In Bhealfa, too, there was a temporary respite from snowfall.
Not that weather conditions affected the number of people thronging the streets of Valdarr, or the attendant magical surges. But it certainly made the citizens’ daily lives more miserable as they traipsed through slush and skidded on icy sidewalks, and it snarled up traffic.
Andar Talgorian’s carriage, travelling to paladin headquarters, took nearly an hour to make a journey that should have lasted minutes. Unsurprisingly, he arrived in a dejected mood.
Nodding the diplomat to a chair, Bastorran asked, ‘So, how was Merakasa?’
Mindful that Commissioner Laffon was present, and aware he currently enjoyed favour with the Empress, Talgorian replied cautiously. ‘It was a pleasure to meet with Her Royal Highness, as always. But I must confess I find the prospect of the imminent military action somewhat depressing.’
‘Nonsense,’ Bastorran snorted. ‘It’s exactly the right response to the situation on the Diamond Isle. I only regret it hasn’t happened sooner.’
‘War should always be the last resort.’
‘We’ve reached the last resort.’ He handed Talgorian a goblet of wine. ‘What would you have done, talk them to death?’
‘If you mean do I think there’s still time to reach a negotiated outcome, the answer’s yes.’
‘My late uncle often said that you were a peacemonger. He meant it kindly, I’m sure.’
‘I prefer to see myself as pragmatic,’ Talgorian countered. ‘And it seems to me that talk has to be a better option than spilling blood.’
They exchanged frosty smiles.
‘I agree with the High Chief,’ Laffon chipped in. ‘If you negotiate with these people you only give them credence.’
‘Surely they already have credence in the eyes of our superiors. If they didn’t, why send a costly expeditionary force against them?’
‘Because force is what they understand. It just proves my point.’
‘The Commissioner’s right,’ Bastorran said. ‘And we should be as ruthless with them at home as I trust we’re going to be overseas.’
‘Is it possible to be more brutal than we already are?’ Talgorian wondered.
It was Laffon’s turn to adopt a feigned smile. ‘If I didn’t know better, Ambassador, I’d think you were sympathetic to these malcontents.’
‘No one is more opposed to public disorder than me, Commissioner. I merely query the methods we’re using to deal with it.’
‘Whatever our view of the coming conflict,’ Bastorran said, raising his glass, ‘I’m sure we can all agree to toast the mission’s success.’
Eyeing each other, they drank.
Talgorian was the first to lower his glass. ‘I hope it goes without saying that the Diplomatic Corps stands ready to offer whatever help it can to both your organisations in this expedition.’
Bastorran gave a hollow laugh. ‘Forgive me. But there’s hardly much use for the service of diplomats once hostilities begin.’
‘Then perhaps you can help me.’
‘What do you mean?’ Laffon said.
Talgorian finished his wine and waved away a refill when Bastorran offered him the carafe. ‘Tell me, have either of you seen Prince Melyobar recently?’
‘As it happens, I have,’ Bastorran replied.
‘How did you find him?’
‘I don’t think it would surprise any of us if I said…problematic.’
‘As unpredictable as usual, in other words.’
