CHAPTER 32

The day of the Spring Fair came too soon for the brooding Krann. He'd told the others about the major's visit, but they'd not been able to provide the answers he'd hoped for. Tila pointed out that the Devoted had been founded on decent principles, so there had to be some true men within their ranks.

Vesna worked from the other side: he thought it was a trap, and wondered whether it could truly be an ambush. The Ivy Rings were halfway between Narkang and the Fortress of the Devoted. While killing or abducting Isak was a risky venture, it was certainly feasible: it was no secret that the Devoted considered Siulents and Eolis too dangerous to be at large in the Land.

That would be a dramatic move, and one that would mean they'd have to abandon their strongholds in Emin Thonal's kingdom, but if they thought the prize worthwhile, it wouldn't be beyond the Devoted.

The Ivy Rings? Who in the name of Vrest's beard told you about them?' Emin actually looked surprised when Isak asked about the temple. They were sitting on a high terrace looking out over the city, overlooking the tents and banners of the Spring Fair. The morning's rain had lessened and Isak had joined Emin for the midday meal.

The king was dressed as resplendently as ever and Isak could see no trace of the strain that he was surely under. In two days his life and city were to be threatened, yet he was relaxed and at ease.

'I overheard a conversation, that's all.'

Then it must have been an odd conversation.' Emin sounded curious. 'Few people like to talk about the place. But since you asked, the Ivy Rings are a disused temple, once dedicated to Belarannar, but few people go there these days. They're in Llehden, a strange place.'

'Strange?'

'Yes, strange.' Emin sniffed. For a moment he became reserved, serious, before he forced the mood away. 'A friend of mine was lost there a few years past. The shire is a reasonable size – no towns, but a number of villages that are prosperous enough.'

'And the lord of the shire?'

'Does not exist. There's not been a Lord of Llehden for generations. As I said, strange things happen there and folk prefer to steer clear. The inhabitants aren't hostile to outsiders, but they live under rather different rules. I have yet to find a tax officer who is willing to go there for me – at least more than once,' he added darkly. Emin's smile was ambiguous, not angry, but he clearly didn't relish his lack of control.

'Llehden is like an island: the region feels much more isolated than it actually is. If you go there you'll find the landscape feels – well, sharper, as if natural magic influences the environment and folklore and myth have a greater grip on reality. The Gentry, Coldhand Folk, Dead Man's Wives; these things are much more common there. Unless you have a reason to go, I would suggest you avoid Llehden. A place like that has a natural balance to it. I doubt it would welcome you.'

'So not a great sight-seeing destination then,' Isak said quietly, and changed the conversation, asking instead about the origins of the Spring Fair.

Emin smiled, relieved, and launched himself into a potted version of Narkang's history.

On the second morning of the Spring Fair, Isak awoke to see a single bright shaft of sunlight piercing the shutters of his room. The gloom of previous days had dissipated and as he opened the windows, he was met by a warm sea breeze. Yesterday the air had been full of the murky tang of seaweed and sodden driftwood. Now he could taste the life and energy of the waves. It put a smile on his face as he pulled on Siulents and belted Eolis around his waist. The blue hood of Nartis went into his belt. He felt no need to retreat behind it today, but with so many people out on the plain he wanted to be able to relax without worrying how much people could read in his face.

They went out early. Isak elected to ride so he had horses at hand in case things became desperate on the last day. To justify being the only nobleman on horseback, he toured the fair, using Toramin's great bulk to dissuade people from approaching. Tila accompanied him, riding side-saddle on Megenn. The saddle was actually a normal one, but with tightly wrapped blankets they had managed to construct something that was comfortable enough for her to ride. If it came to a mad rush for the gates, Isak wanted Tila to be safe. Her own mare was fine for travelling, but Megenn was bigger, faster, and battle-trained.

The entire city seemed to have descended to the plain. A,riot of noise, bustle and activity surrounded the Farlan as they trotted past open kitchens, acrobatic displays, parties of minstrels and a host of weird and wonderful games. Vesna was naturally at the jousting fences, watching the competition and preparing himself for his first match. He'd been drawn against a commoner who'd won the morning's competitions. It was traditional for a few peasants or apprentices from the city to be allowed to cross lances with the noblemen. The king provided armour and horses, and any victory – rare though they were – would win the man a personal congratulation from his monarch.

Vesna was hardly worried by the tall, ruddy-faced youth who was ecstatic just to be scheduled to face the legendary count. He was more concerned about two men wearing the colours of the Devoted: the Kingsguard champion and a wealthy knight of the city, who'd made a point of coming to greet him. Vesna had noted the tattoo on his ear as they spoke.

As the man departed, casting one last avaricious look at Vesna's ensorcelled sword, Vesna had felt a sudden pang of unfamiliar nervousness. Fool, he chastised himself with a grin. Fall in love and you're suddenly a shy little boy again. There's a reason a man of the Brotherhood made a point of coming to see you now, because you're that good. Just remember: these people know your name for a reason.

Isak found himself enjoying the fair far more than he'd expected. He loved the exotic, sometimes bizarre foods on display; they were mainly drawn from the ocean and though he recognised little of the samples offered up by beaming cooks, he'd made significant inroads on his hunger long before he was due to eat with the king. The further in they went, the stranger the sights became.

He lingered for a long while to watch a hedge wizard in ragged robes perform a meagre repertoire of tricks. Unsurprisingly, the audience was mainly young children, but Isak was fascinated by the display, mean as it was. By watching the movements and tasting the

changes in the air, Isak quickly understood how the man was keeping the children enthralled. His abilities were minimal, too minor perhaps even to have been trained, but Isak greatly enjoyed the invention.

When the display was over, Isak beckoned the man over and gave him a gold emin. He was overwhelmed by the hedge wizard's thanks, which he shrugged off, a little embarrassed at having caused such an emotional scene. Tila raised an eyebrow at his generosity, but Isak just grinned. He had enjoyed the theatrics as much as any of the children there.

'He taught me something. That's worth a coin.' Isak held his hands together and copied one of the wizard's unintelligible phrases, and a pair of flame wings rose up into the air before dissipating. The girl smiled at the joy on his face, trying not to show the sudden sadness as she remembered he'd never been allowed this sort of fun before. Sometimes it was hard to remember the Krann was only just out of childhood, for all his size and power.

'Come on, my Lord, we should be going back to the pavilion,' she said finally. Isak was dining with the king in the royal box, in one of the two massive pavilions erected down either side of the jousting field.