Carel stood with his head low and hands clasped together. 'My Lord, it was my fault. I'm not used to being around noblemen. In the barracks, things are simpler-'

'No.' Tila placed herself between the two men and glared up at Isak. 'It was that man Jex at‹fault. He was insulting me and Carel stepped in to stop him.'

'And Jex took offence at what he said and challenged him to a duel?' the king asked. He was lounging on a long sofa, a thin cigar clamped between his lips.

'Well, the Marshal was not wholly tactful, but Jex was looking for an excuse.'

'So now you have to fight him?' Isak did not shout, but his friend still shrank back. 'Carel, in case you've forgotten, you retired from the Ghosts years ago. You can't fight a man like Herolen Jex at your age.'

His companions looked back at him, confusion on their faces.

'How do you know him? I'd not heard of the man.' Vesna put down the empty glass he'd been restlessly turning in his hands.

The king told me.' Isak turned back to his ageing friend. That's hardly the problem now. Carel, you're not going to fight this man.'

'He doesn't have to,' answered Vesna before Carel could speak. 'I am.'

'And he accepted? I suppose he would,' mused Emin. 'He'd not have heard of you. Jex is too arrogant to refuse a duel without good reason. Well, there is at least a little good to come out of this. I assume you asked for a full joust when given choice of weapons?'

Vesna nodded. A man with a long-standing reputation as an adulterer didn't survive long without being a good duellist – with any weapon. Vesna was not just a master adulterer, he was a hero of the Parian Army, and his reputation both on the battlefield and on at a formal tourney was well deserved. With any luck, the pirate Jex would probably have never tilted in his life,

'Unfortunately, it also creates a problem. I assume the duel is to be in the morning?'

'No, my Lord,' said Tila. 'I'm afraid 1 couldn't think of anything fast enough to stop the duel, but for what it's worth the duel will happen after the fair.'

'What?' To Tila's surprise, the king's face lit up. As she looked at Isak she saw similar excitement.

'It was the only excuse I could think of to put off the duel. I hoped it would give you time to find a way to stop it. I told Jex that you and the king had already made a wager on the fair, five hundred gold emins that Vesna would win the tilt. I banked on betting law being the same as in Tirah: since his duel puts a wager of yours at risk, if Jex wants to fight immediately, he has to provide the money, because he's forcing you to default.' She blushed. 'He didn't look like he had five hundred emins to hand.'

'My dear,' purred Emin, rising and taking her hand, 'if I were not a married man I would be on my knee to you this minute.' He kissed her palm with affected reverence. 'I could not have asked more of you if I'd orchestrated the whole thing myself.'

He stood up and craned his head around Isak's massive frame to attract Coran's attention. 'Go to Herolen Jex, I believe he is one of Duke Forell's guests. Tell him the duel will take place after the presentation of the prizes at the fair. That should relieve them – I'm sure the others know about Count Vesna's ability.'

'Others?' asked Vesna, his coming duel forgotten as his suspicion flared.

'I will take my leave and let your master explain. Oh, the excitement of the Spring Fair…' He was almost dancing as he left the room, Coran at his heel at ever. Only a thin trail of smoke and a line of confused faces remained.Isak suspected that was a frequent happening.

CHAPTER 31

In the grey gloom of early morning, the soldier's shifting feet on the cobbles sounded oddly loud. The night had seen rain clouds roll in from the ocean and with them had come a cool mist and rain, nothing heavy but still not what most had hoped for the coming Spring Fair. His muscles felt cold and stiff after long hours of guard duty. He stared out over the damp empty street, another still, silent part of the city. It was too early for most of Narkang's citizens; only a few distant sounds, some mysterious, most mundane, haunted the empty streets. Even the dawn chorus had yet to rouse into action.

His partner was in the guardroom above, warm and comfortable, seated by the arrow-slit window that overlooked the approach to the palace. The solider opened his mouth to call up and demand they change places when a movement caught his eye. In the inky lee of one house, a cloak fluttered out from the shadow. The soldier flexed his fingers round the shaft of his halberd. Someone was watching him. He hawked noisily and spat on the ground, the saliva glistening in the half-light. A tap-tap came; almost inaudible, but enough to be sure his partner was alert to the possible danger.

The figure remained in the shadows for another ten heartbeats, then slipped round the corner and moved stealthily along the wall. His long cape covered most of his body, but the breeze held it open for a moment, long enough to make out bronze scale-armour and a red sash with markings of rank – an officer of the Devoted.

Tonight has just got more interesting, thought the soldier. The Devoted and the Kingsguard found themselves at odds more often than not. The officers of the Devoted were usually recruited from birth and title. No man in the Kingsguard went anywhere unless it was on merit. He reached back and rapped his knuckles on the door behind him. At night the gates to the palace were, of course, barred. A low door in

the left-hand gate provided the only access until the king was awake. The soldier heard the bolts drawn back as he kept scanning the street beyond. From here he could see no one else, neither companion nor pursuer, but when the hurrying figure crossed the open stretch of road, the soldier kicked back against the door to open it for him.

'I-' The man's voice broke off as the guard jabbed a thumb towards the door. He hesitated for a split second, then nodded and ducked down to step through the small aperture. Staying in the street would expose the visitor, and he was clearly trying to avoid notice. The guards behind the gate could deal with him. The soldier flicked his upright halberd through two well-practised circles and returned his attention to the fading gloom of the streets.

As the officer came through the door, two pairs of boots and two gleaming sword tips welcomed him. He froze, then gently brought himself upright to match the unfriendly gaze of a Kingsguard soldier. The second moved around him to nudge the door closed again and restore the bolts. Only once the gate was secure did anyone speak.

'So, Major,' said the soldier opposite him as he noted the markings on the Knight's scarlet sash. 'What can we do for you this fine night?'

The man looked about the fine courtyard before answering. Even in the murky light the White Palace was beautiful. The roses were black shadows, the gravel paths soft grey, and the host of statues loomed like resident spectres.

'I must speak to the Krann of the Farlan.'

The soldier gave a short laugh. 'Oh well, excuse me a moment while I drag him out of bed by his ear.'

'It is a matter of utmost importance.'

'I'm sure it is,' drawled the soldier. He regarded the earnest face of the major, a young man for his rank, and sheathed his sword. 'It's always important to pious bastards like you lot, but the Lord Isak might not agree. Got a nasty temper on him, I hear.'

'Then wake one of his men and let him decide. I need to be out of the palace before the city wakes.'

The soldier sighed and scratched at his neck idly. 'I'm not so sure you'll make that, but I'll go and wake the commander of the Krann's guard. You can wait in the guardhouse there.'