The stormcaller

Vesna dropped his gaze in embarrassment, his veneer of charm suddenly stripped away. 'I, ah… well, to be honest, Lord Isak has yet to think of it. He has only one name, and it is good enough for him, so he thinks it is good enough for everyone.'

‘But you do have a name?' A nasty grin crept over Tila's normally gentle features; she was sensing a weakness in the famous Count Vesna's glamour.

‘I do, but I do not use it-'

‘You will tell me,' Tila insisted to the squirming warrior.

‘I_’

‘Otherwise I shall feel honour-bound to put the idea in Isak's head, perhaps during the banquet tonight-'

‘No! No need for that, Lady Tila. I will be glad to tell you.' He paused and took a deep breath. 'My name is Evanelial, Evanelial

Vesna.’ He watched Tila glumly as she burst into sudden laughter.

‘You mean as in the story?' Tila began to laugh again, her usual calm deserting her as she tried to smother her giggles in her voluminous sleeve.

'The very same. The story was written for my grandmother, but according to my parents, it used to be a man's name.'

'Oh yes, very masculine – oh dear, look at me,' exclaimed Tila, suddenly aware that the eyes of the entire room were on her. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh, but with your reputation? Every boy in the tribe wants to grow up to be you, to be the consummate brave knight, the dashing rogue…'

'I know. And that's precisely why I don't tell people my first name – though most of them wouldn't admit to recognising it.'

The count's pleading tone got through and Tila began to feel quite sorry for him. She had two brothers and knew how cruel boys could be to their friends. The martial life was not a forgiving one, and even less so for those who shone brightest.

'You're right, I apologise. I shall not say a word. Please forgive me for laughing.' There was a smile on her face still, and Vesna nodded eagerly.

'Forgiven, Lady Tila, if you in turn will forgive me my reputation.'

The smile faded from Tila's face, but she could see nothing to provoke her earlier dislike. She inclined her head regally and stood. 'Perhaps I should not listen to tales. You appear loyal to Isak, so I shall not judge you yet. In the meantime, I believe I should be showing you to the barracks.'

She felt a pang of guilt towards Isak for being so friendly, but only for a moment – when Isak had greeted her earlier, she had seen great affection in his eyes, but nothing more. She wasn't quite sure how she felt, but if there had been something there, it had already faded for Isak. At some point they would have to talk alone, but there was no rush. She smiled wryly: Lord Bahl would be pleased.

They said their farewells to the veteran Ghost, then Count Vesna, bowing slightly, ushered her out of the room with all the grace of a practised courtier. Carel watched them go out side by side: at that moment he felt very old, so out of touch. That thought stirred him into action and he got up to go in search of Chief Steward Lesarl's offices. Surely there was something even an old man could do.

The guardsman on the door outside Bahl's study nodded to Isak and eased the door open. The old Lord had removed his hood and Isak

could see the concern etched on to Bahl's face. The light from the stained glass windows was weak, and a number of huge candles were already alight, their flames casting strange shadows on Bahl's furrowed brow as he sat at his desk.

'You're glad to have your friend in the palace?'

Isak smiled inwardly. Bahl was not one for small talk, but Isak hadn't been the only one to notice that he was making an effort – a minor thing, but it made him less remote. The people of Tirah had all heard the last joke Bahl had made at his Krann's expense, and that had helped dispel some of their fear.

'I have more friends here than I've ever had in my life, but it's good to see Carel again,' he agreed.

'He was a Ghost, was he not? Well, he may be more use than just

as a friend.'

Isak tried to stop his Lord: 'I don't want to have to ask that of him. He retired to a quieter life for a reason. I don't want to be ordering him to kill, or to spy for me.'

'I understand, but never forget that he was a Ghost. I hear he thinks

of you as a son.'

Obviously Lesarl would report on every new face, but it still rankled that Carel – his friend – had come under the Chief Steward's scrutiny. He didn't say anything, but dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement.

'I suspect he'll demand to be involved soon enough,' Bahl continued, then changed the subject as swiftly as always. 'You know Count Vilan is in the palace to see his old friend, Sir Cerse?'

'I do, but I've told Vesna to be patient about getting court apartments,' said Isak firmly. ‘I’ll deal with Vilan soon enough.'

'Good. If you need a man to do it – or woman, he has several quite capable – then ask Lesarl. I know you don't like him, but you don't want blood staining your livery.'

‘I'll be careful. Was that what you wanted to see me about?' He was puzzled that Bahl would bother summoning his Krann for something they'd already discussed.

‘No. There are two other things. Firstly, I have decided you should leave Tirah.'

Leave?' spluttered Isak, incredulously. 'But I've only just returned!

Why would I want to leave?'

Bahl held up a hand to silence Isak's protest. 'You will hear me out first. I will not force you to go, but I believe it is for the best.' 'Was this Lesarl's idea?' snapped Isak, unable to keep quiet.

'I said listen!' bellowed Bahl, half-rising from his seat. His great hands gripped the mahogany desk as he leaned forward into Isak's face, the curl of a snarl appearing from nowhere. Isak matched it, rising himself. The shadows darkened in the room and the copper tang of magic suddenly filled the air as Bahl's anger flared. Isak's mirrored it, his eyes blazing, but before anything more could happen he felt a near-irresistible demand from Eolis. His hand twitched down of its own accord before he snatched it back in horror.

The shock restored his senses and he leaned heavily on the desk as the strength fled from his body, hardly aware that White Lightning was now nestled in Bahl's grip. The old Lord narrowed his eyes. He had expected an attack, but Isak was so stunned by the power of what had just happened that a breeze could have toppled him.

Isak looked up, slowly recognising Bahl's own readiness; his great blade was swept back and ready to strike. The younger man dropped to one knee, realising how close they had come to blows for no reason other than his own impatience. There was real contrition when at last he found his voice. 'My Lord, forgive me. I- I don't know what came over me.'

Isak slowly unbuckled his bleached leather sword-belt, a gift from the new Suzerain Fordan, and let it drop to the floor. Only then did he dare lift his head.

Bahl hesitated, wary of a ruse; it was a moment or two before cen-turies of instinct let him relax again.

Only then did Isak stand and retrieve his chair, waiting for Bahl's consent before sitting again.

'That's one reason why you should leave for a while. We've had enough of each other's company for a while. Also, with this Shalstik matter, I think it is safe to say they could try again. I want you to go west, to Narkang. It'll be a long way for trouble to follow unnoticed, and that aside, King Emin would be a good ally.'

Isak considered Bahl's words. He knew a little about Narkang, the emerging kingdom in the west, where all of the cities were populated by people of mixed blood, not pure-bred members of any of the Seven Tribes. The tribes had always looked down on half-breeds, but King Emin had created a nation to rival them all.

'Emin Thonal took the crown at the age of twenty-one, and three

years later he conquered Aroth, the larger of his neighbours,' Lord Bahl said. 'Two years after that the renowned warriors of Canar Fell

surrendered on the field rather than face utter destruction, and five years on, Canar Thrit bowed to economic pressure and voted to join Thonal's kingdom. In the space of twenty years, Narkang has grown to one of the