for the right word for a moment, 'it would be impolite to arrest them right now.' He shook his head. 'I'll never understand rich people.'
Before Mihn could reply, loud voices rang out over the hubbub and they looked up to see a procession of carriages clattering into the square. Six heralds dressed in a livery of white, blue and red rode ahead, standing in their stirrups and bellowing at the soldiers to clear a path. Each held a fluttering banner, like a suzerain's hurscal.
'Those banners have the snake of Nartis on,' Isak said, narrowing his eyes, 'but those knights don't look like penitents to me.'
'The Cardinal Paladins,' Mihn supplied, almost without thinking. 'I remember Chief Steward Lesarl talking about them; he was amused that the Synod had resurrected the regiment that once protected them. It's made up of devout knights, and the cream of the mercenaries they employ.'
He hesitated and lowered his voice. 'My Lord? Speaking of Lesarl- My Lord, where are your advisors? This is a ceremonial occasion, however false the sentiments, and-'
'They're busy,' Isak said abruptly, shutting his jaw with a snap. He stared off into the distance for a few heartbeats, then turned back. There was a rare look of concern on his face. 'I ordered them to stay away. The reason we came early was because I needed to think.'
'Do you wish me to-?' Mihn began before Isak waved the suggestion away.
'No, not at all. You don't disrupt my train of thought. If anything, you've helped. Did Xeliath not tell you about last night?'
Mihn looked down. 'I wasn't in much mood to listen, I'm afraid. I hadn't realised how draining the ritual was going to be. By the time Xeliath, ah, returned to herself, I was asleep.'
Isak put a hand on the small man's shoulder. 'Of course. I'll give you the brief version.' He rubbed a hand over his stubble and Mihn suddenly realised his mood was not just because of a poor night's sleep – and whatever was something bothering him was serious enough make his eyes look haunted. 'I pretty much grew up on a soldier's potted wisdom; you know that, right?'
Mihn nodded. 'Of course – but Carel's no fool, and it's not led you far wrong, has it?'
'Last time I asked him, the old bugger said he had nothing more to tell me.' Isak gave a sour laugh at the notion that there was nothing more for him to learn. 'He just repeated something he's said before to me, 'if it's fear guiding your horse you're riding straight to the ivory gates' – but I guess I ignored it the first time he said it. I didn't think it applied to a white'eye. But now… now I realise it's the answer I've been looking for, the one I think you've been nudging me towards for weeks.'
'What was the news?' Mihn asked quietly, keeping an eye on the cardinal's carriages. They had stopped in the centre of the square. The cardinals would, of course, want to inspect their troops – and show they were in no great hurry for Isak's approval.
'Lord Styrax has moved north faster than we could have possibly imagined; he's taken Tor Salan and will be at the gates of the Circle City soon, in days perhaps. For years – years – I dreamed of Lord Bahl's death; and for the last few I always woke in the certainty that the same man would one day kill me. The man who's marching this way.'
'That means nothing,' Mihn protested. 'Whether the dreams are true or not, the Circle City is a long way from Tirah. It would take one order to have Tor Milist under your direct control, and that gives us miles of open ground to exploit our advantage: the cavalry. However good a warrior Lord Styrax is, he cannot win a battle all by himself- and the Farlan cavalry is the finest in the Land.'
'I agree, so isn't it ironic that I'm sending a chunk of my army chasing after him? This isn't something I can stop without inciting civil war, and if I don't give them support I'm throwing away valuable troops.'
Mihn looked puzzled. 'What are you saying?'
Isak pulled a rolled parchment from inside his tunic. 'This is Special Order Seven, one of Lesarl's pre-prepared contingency plans. You want to know where my advisors are? They're off enact' ing my orders. This order puts the Farlan nation into a state of war.'
'You're marching south?' Mihn gaped at him. 'But why?'
'Because I will have to, and that you know better than you're making out, my friend.' There was no accusation in Isak's expression, just a knowingness more suited to Carel's careworn face. 'You said a few weeks ago that I was haunted by prophecies and other forces that have shaped my life. You told me to accept and work around them, to turn them to purpose, just as I have tried to turn the zealotry of the cults to my gain, You know I can't continue to submit to fear, and if I let my dreams dictate my actions, I will die like Lord Bahl, alone and haunted – and faithful bondsman that you are, you're trying to prepare your own contingency plan.'
Mihn opened his mouth to argue but shut it again when he saw the look in Isak's eye. The Chosen of Nartis was in no mood to be contradicted, especially when he knew he was right.
'I will go south because I believe I must. My goal is not to meet Lord Styrax on the field but to buy enough time to get into Byora. Lesarl's agent Legana – well, former agent – she told me that Azaer's disciples are controlling the Duchess of Byora, that the next step of their plan will be enacted there.'
The white-eye paused and checked to see if the cardinals were close enough for his attention yet. He looked at Mihn once more and thumped his fist against his chest. Mihn felt the echo though the rune linking them.
'At the very thought of going I feel fear; a cold, tight band around my heart. That isn't something I'm used to and it terrifies me, but it also tells me Legana's right: Azaer knows I am a danger – I am strong enough to kills Gods, so a shadow would be no great feat. It has survived so far by being unknown, but now it is my enemy it must use the threat of Lord Styrax to ward me off.'
'It has underestimated a white-eye's aggression then,' Mihn muttered.
Isak shook his head. 'Not really. We are born to fight, but we're also born to survive, no matter what. That means we'll fight with every ounce of strength, but a glorious death holds no interest.' His voice became more urgent. 'You know that, don't you? Nothing of this has been by accident; it is all by design. My dreams have imbued this fear of Styrax into every fibre of my body.
'Meeting him face to face I'll feel like the frightened little boy I have always been in my dreams. Even at my best, I've been one of the Chosen for only a year. Lord Styrax has ruled the Menin for several hundred. He's beaten Koezh Vukotic in a fair fight, and he killed the last Lord of the Menin with a plain sword! In a straight fight against Lord Styrax, I will die, and that I know with a certainty I cannot even explain. And I don't need someone as skilled as you to tell me what happens when you are certain of failure even before the first blow is struck.'
Mihn didn't speak. He was stunned by Isak's honesty – this raw openness wasn't part of Isak's personality, or the military world he lived in. Somewhere in the distance he heard a cough and realised the cardinals were nearing their position, but he couldn't yet tear his eyes away from the young warrior before him.
Isak forced a smile on his face and clapped a hand on Mihn's shoulder. He sagged under the weight as Isak pulled him closer to whisper, 'I think I've guessed what your contingency plan is – let us hope it never comes to that. I'm not sure what frightens me more.'
Mihn nodded dumbly. For a moment he saw complete under-standing in his lord's eyes, and an acceptance that was chilling to behold.
Then the shroud of politics descended, and by the time Isak turned to greet High Cardinal Certinse, the welcoming smile on his face looked almost natural.
Certinse himself looked harried and drawn, not showing the same pleasure as his colleagues at the prospect of riding at the head of a crusade.
'Your Eminence,' Isak called, 'I have excellent news.' He raised the parchment. 'This is Special Order Seven.'
The day passed swiftly, and Isak watched the chaos he had sparked throughout the city with a vague, sour smile. Mihn kept to his lord's shadow and watched him carefully. By the end of the day he still wasn't sure if that displayed amusement was a politician's ruse or – more worryingly, Mihn thought – what Isak thought he should be feeling, and so displayed as a mask, hiding the fear and emptiness within.
Sunset found the pair of them back at Tirah Palace, perched on Isak's high ledge in the chill evening air and watching the activity on the training ground below. Isak had sent two legions of City spearmen with Suzerain Torl, and promised more to follow. He'd also given Torl seven written orders, with instructions to hand them out to every suzerain he came into contact with. The results would be seven of the nearest suzerains joining him within days, accompanied by whatever troops they could muster at short notice; Lesarl estimated that would add some
