early hours, and now it was the last day of Spring Fair and no one was convinced they knew what the right thing to do was. Isak wasn't sure he trusted the earnest young major; there was too much he didn't understand. And yet… And yet it was too obvious to be an ambush. Isak's company might not be large, but his men were Ghosts and it would take more than a single regiment to overcome them, especially if they were already on their guard.
Then there was the added problem of Lord Bahl: he wouldn't wait for his Chief Steward to come up with evidence; he would just attack. For all their power, the Devoted stood no chance against the Farlan Army.
And there was another worry: King Emin. Emin and that dangerous little smile of his – in some ways, that was the only reassurance Isak had. The Narkang king was clever, and he wanted the Farlan to know it. If he were Isak's enemy, he would not have shown so much of himself. It was obvious there was more involved, but Emin had dropped enough hints for Isak to be sure his plans were suitably grand in scope, and needing Parian involvement, not enmity.
He sighed, deeply, and turned to Tila. 'The red.'
Tila held up the red silk scarf that she'd bought the previous day, then knotted the white about Megenn's reins. Vesna nudged his horse closer and she tied the red scarf about his arm, already clad in black-iron. The count had been permitted to wear his enchanted armour after the king had ruled that it was no less awkward than unensorcelled plate, and would not give him an unfair advantage. The count
wondered if he also agreed so the expected finale would be all the more dramatic: the Lion of Anvee darkly glittering in the sun, facing the shining form of Emin's champion, the youth nicknamed the Sun-bee because of his gold-plated armour. The contrast of misty black and glittering gold would certainly be good fare for the dozens of minstrels and storytellers out on the plain this day.
'Are you sure?' Carel looked far from happy at the decision.
'We can ask the king for an escort, surely?' This was a question Isak had wanted to avoid: he didn't want the king to be privy to all his secrets, in case he had misjudged the man – the last thing he wanted was to leave open the opportunity to blame any 'accident' on the Knights of the Temples. Isak could see from Carel and Vesna's reactions that he wasn't the only one concerned about how much they were trusting the king.
'From what I've found, the Ivy Rings would be a bad place for an ambush, no matter how isolated. As for Emin, I think we can trust him, but who knows – there aren't that many Farlan I can trust completely. 'Knowledge is power' – Lesarl's favourite phrase.' He laughed hollowly. 'And
That's true enough.' Vesna gave the scarf a tug to check it was secure. 'But you can take this too far sometimes.'
Isak looked down at the ground, refusing to look his bondsman in the eye.
'Sometimes a man needs secrets. It doesn't have to be because of a lack of trust.'
'It seems to happen more often these days,' said Carel. 'Morghien, for one – you've said less than Mihn about him. What's going on, Isak?'
'Enough!' he roared suddenly.
Tila flinched and looked away, but Carel didn't even blink: Isak might be powerful now, rich even, but he was still the boy Carel had practically raised.
'Not enough!' he bellowed back. 'Do you think yourself so wise now you can do everything alone? I'm not here to run your errands. If you expect me to be some meek little courtier then you can shove my title and Arugin up your arse.'
Isak didn't reply, but clamped his jaws tightly shut.
Carel gave an exasperated snort and clouted the Krann round the head, ignoring the gasps from onlookers. 'What's wrong with you,
boy? Is the magic rotting your brain, or has all this Saviour talk gone to your head?'
This time Isak gave a snarl and swatted Carel's hand away, then reached out and grabbed a handful of his tunic and physically pulled him from his saddle. He brought Carel's face up to his own.
Tila screamed and grabbed at the huge fist, but Isak shrugged her off without a glance.
'Go on then.' Carel croaked. 'Hit me. Prove to the whole Land you're nothing more than an animal. Perhaps I did waste my time on you. Maybe I should have given you to that mercenary on the road after all, rather than gift the Land another monster with more power than sense. You're just one man, Isak. Whatever gifts you have, however big you are, you're still just a man. You can't fight a war alone – you'll fail us all.'
Isak's fist quivered as fury coursed through his body and the hot scent of rage filled his nostrils. Carel looked into his boy's cold eyes and, for the first time, he felt a pang of fear. The white-eye's face was flushed red and his lips were curled back in a snarl. Sparks danced from his tiny black pupils.
The only sound Carel could hear was the savage rush of Isak's breathing as he struggled to speak. 'Don't fail me, boy.' The words were little more than a whispered prayer, but they doused the fire instantly.
Isak jerked in shock, accidentally shaking Carel like a rag doll. He looked around at the others clustered around him, then, with a stunned expression on his face, he lowered Carel to the floor. He clung hard to the pommel of the saddle and bent low over Toramin's neck, trembling uncontrollably. Carel reached a hand out to steady himself against the horse's shoulder, panting as hard as Isak.
The Ghosts had formed a circle around them as soon as Isak started raising his voice, warding them from curious onlookers, but themselves were casting panicky looks at their commander and their Lord.
'I'm sorry.' Isak sounded as weak as
As Carel filled his lungs and breathed deeply, colour returned to his cheeks. He held on to Isak's hand and looked up at him, worried. 'But one day, my boy, it might go too far; you might not be able to pull
back in time. If you want advisors who care about you and not your power, remember what that means. It might not be my place as a loyal subject to ask what puts that hunted look on your face, but as your friend, I'm going to, whether I can help or not. If you keep everything to yourself, it'll drive you mad.'
Isak lifted his head, eyes filled with sadness. 'I know, but Carel, I don't understand it myself. As for explaining it to you, I wouldn't know where to begin. I'm not even sure there is a beginning.' He still looked shamefaced, but held up a hand to ward off further questions. 'If we survive today, I promise I'll tell you all I can. I owe you that, I know that, and much more.'
Carel looked at him for a moment, then nodded, satisfied. That'll do, boy. I'll be waiting.' He reached out an arm and Isak helped him back on his horse.
Now Isak turned to the others. Tila was visibly shocked, as was Mistress Daran, who was ineffectually stroking the green silk sleeve of Tila's dress, as much to soothe herself as her charge. Isak opened his mouth to speak, but the words went unsaid. What could he say? That it wouldn't happen again – that he, a white-eye, would never lose his temper again? He tried to catch Tila's eye, but her long hair hid her face.
Touching his heels to Toramin's flank, Isak restarted their advance on the jousting arena. The sun spread thick golden warmth over the trampled grass. Plump cloud rode smoothly on the brisk wind as they raced over the Land. The plain was already crowded and a chorus of songs, shouting, cheers, jeers and laughter filled the air. The public galleries for the jousting were already full as people jostled for a better view. Clearly word of Tila's bet had got around. Five hundred gold coins – emins or any other currency – was a fortune. The people of Narkang wanted to cheer their champion.
Isak watched as a group of children squabbled over a pair of makeshift lances. The two boys who won out each had a cape fixed about his shoulders. One wore black, the other yellow. They were just about to perch on the backs of the two who were being the horses when a smudge-faced little girl noticed the Farlan. She gave a shriek of excitement and in a matter of seconds, the column had grown a tail of wondering eyes and dirty faces, all marvelling not at Isak, but at Count Vesna, resplendent in his battle dress.
Isak tried to smile but couldn't. He knew they were hanging back from him because they were scared of him, and he knew they had reason to be.
'My Lord is well?' the king enquired as Isak took his seat. As the previous day, the queen was absent and Count Antern filled the chair beside the king. To excuse her from the violence likely to follow, the queen had been forced to spend most of the fair secluded in her chambers, apparently suffering from a severe headache.
Isak gave a curt nod and the king pressed no further. His pale face told enough of a tale, enforced by the way
