looked out over Shandaular from th? arrow slit there just as he had. She could surely feel as well as he that something was amiss in the fragile order the wychlaren had established in Shandaular. The Weave was strong in the city, but wild and wavering, as if it were reacting to some old wound. Their spells had worked well enough, but the taste and feel of the magic was different. Like a warning.
'We have little reason to suspect Bastun of any involvement with the Nar,' Thaena said.
'I disagree, ethran,' Syrolf said. 'We should-'
'But,' Thaena continued, quieting the warrior, 'he has chosen his exile, for whatever reason, and cannot be viewed as loyal to Rashemen because of it. It is not in my nature to trust such a man or to respect his choice, but I will also not place blame on him every time I stub my toe. Our mission was to bring him to the Shield for examination by the hathran and then to see him away to the west, never to return.
'That still is our mission, but we must also work to eliminate any threat to Rashemen by discovering why the Nar are here and what they have done. If my sisters are threatened we are dutybound to assist them. We will have no summary executions unless the charges are backed by solid evidence. But we will also not be lax in our observation of the exile.'
Thaena let her words sink in. Neither warrior responded.
'Am I understood?'
Bastun could only assume they agreed quietly, for the conversation ended. He opened his eyes and looked once again into the fog outside. He had to keep watching, for the faces of Ulsera and Keffrass were there when he closed his eyes. There had been fog on the day of Ulsera's funeral. It had been the last time he'd seen his parents. On the day of Keffrass's funeral he had been alone.
With ghosts and shadows residing in his mind, it took a few moments to realize that something was moving outside. He blinked and sat up, watching two faint figures stumble and push through the snow.
Guards outside the gatehouse called a warning and hailed the approaching figures. Several of the fang jumped to their feet and grabbed weapons as they rushed outside. Unwatched for the moment, Bastun got up and followed after them.
The wind whipped at his braided hair and robes as he neared the huddled figures who had fallen to their knees before the Rashemi warriors. Wrapped in a blanket, Bastun could make out a woman and a man, but as the woman raised her face into the torchlight he paused, stepping back and staring.
The woman's mask was elaborately decorated, as most wychlaren masks were, but in the details were the markings of a very different magic: forbidden symbols and runes that only graced the masks of the wychlaren's bitter rivals-the durthans.
The fang helped the woman to her feet. Seeing her mask they treated her with all the respect due to a hathran. Her companion, a pale-skinned man with sharp features, hung close by, warily watching their would-be rescuers. Bastun gritted his teeth. Loosening his fingers, he prepared to defend himself, the Weave tingling across his knuckles.
As the visitors were being led toward shelter Thaena came from the gatehouse, followed by Duras and Syrolf. Seeing the stern glare of the ethran, they halted. Bastun breathed a sigh of relief as Thaena approached, her forearms crossed defensively. She had seen as quickly as he.
'Hold her!' she commanded. The warriors complied, though hesitantly. 'Keep her still. She is not one of us.'
The durthan stood tall, confident as Thaena studied her.
'Lady Ethran, I-' the woman began.
'Your formality is not required, durthan,' Thaena said, ignoring the shocked glances of the berserkers. 'We both know that my status among the wychlaren means nothing to you.'
'Yes, I suppose you are right,' the durthan answered calmly, then added, 'I am called Anilya.'
'Your name is unimportant,' said Thaena, 'and your presence here is unsurprising.'
'Despite our differences we have much to discuss,' Anilya said.
'I doubt that,' Thaena replied, motioning to Anilya's captors and the other gathered warriors. 'Bring her inside. Disarm her companion. Kill him if he tries anything.'
The pale-skinned man bristled and bared his teeth, his eyeteeth small and sharp. Anilya shot him a look.
'Be still, Ohriman!' she shouted. He complied at her withering stare. 'Wait for me and do as they command.'
Anilya did not struggle as she was led by her arms to the gatehouse. Bastun caught her eye for only a heartbeat before Syrolf shoved him behind her. He turned and faced the warrior, meeting Syrolf s steady gaze long enough to let him know that he might not allow another provocation to go unanswered. Turning away slowly, he exhaled and followed the others.
The durthans companion was shoved against the gatehouse wall, sevetal daggers and a thin sword removed from his belt. They tied his hands for good measure and posted a guard. Slumping against the stone, he sat in the snow, showing no sign of discomfort in the cold. Under the glow of the torches, his green eyes shined and his pupils narrowed to slits.
A tiefling, Bastun thought, and a durthan. This wasn't good.
Inside, Anilya was escorted to the back of the room, cornered and forced to sit with her hands laid plainly on her lap. Bastun resumed his place in his own corner, Syrolf close by, the warrior's eyes darting between the vremyonni and the durthan. The rest of the fang crouched, on alert, watching the door and listening as Thaena spoke to the unexpected prisoner.
'Tell me,' Thaena said, 'why should I wait for the hathran to lay sentence upon you? Why shouldn't I have you executed here and save my sisters the trouble?'
Anilya glanced casually at Duras's sword, held at the ready, and then to Thaena.
'That would seem to be a logical course of action,' the durthan said in an even tone.
'Then you accept your part in what is occurring here?' Thaena asked. 'Even for a durthan, allying with the Nar is-'
'Don't be foolish,' Anilya interrupted. 'I and mine have no part in whatever the Nar are doing here.'
'I don't think it's entirely ridiculous to imagine the durthan making alliances with the Nar,' Thaena said. 'I do not hold traitors to Rashemen by any high moral standards.'
A murmur of agreement passed through the fang at her words. Anilya met Thaena's cool gaze, their masks so much like night and day that Bastun briefly imagined the sun arguing with the moon.
'Traitors to the wychlaren perhaps. Not Rashemen. Never the land.'
'However you wish to view it,' Thaena said. 'You will be taken to the Shield and dealt with by its hathran. Bind her hands, Duras.'
Duras sheathed his long sword, drew a dagger, and reached for a coil of rope at his hip.
'I'm afraid you'll find the hathran is in no condition to pass judgment on anyone,' Anilya said, giving Duras pause to consider her words and look to the ethran.
'What are you saying?' Thaena asked, her hands curled into fists. 'What have you done?'
'Nothing,' the durthan answered. 'But the Nar have been here for some days, and they have already breached the Shield.'
Bastun's eyes widened. The grim faces of the fang were all focused on Anilya, but none of them could know the concern that Bastun felt.
'You're lying,' Thaena said. 'You're trying to trick me into something.'
'Haven't you yet wondered why a durthan and a single swordsman approached a full fang of warriors, their ethran, and a vremyonni without raising a single blade or casting the most minor of spells?' Anilya said. 'I came here to meet with you, to bring a proposal that would benefit us all.'
Thaena stared hard at the durthan as Duras stood by with the rope. At length, she gestured Duras back.
'Speak quickly,' she said.
Anilya leaned back into her corner, keeping her hands visible, and told of the durthans' watch over Shandaular and the lands of the west.
'We spied the Nar, members of the Creel tribe, riding east. As they neared Shandaular we grew curious, but my sisters did not deem it worthy enough to investigate further. I disagreed. Strangely though, I was unable to find the Nar by magic. Some presence among the Creel tore my spells apart. So I found a tracker-Ohriman, my
