'That,' said Lesarl firmly, 'is a theory you will refrain from advancing in any other company, unless you want to find yourself closeted away in a monastery for the rest of your life.'

Kerin was taken aback at the strength of Lesarl's reaction. 'I didn't

mean-'

'I don't care what you meant, or what you think. If I hear the slightest mention of malign influences affecting the decisions made out there today, I will hold you responsible for them.'

'Yes,' rumbled Bahl in a thoughtful way. 'That idea is a disturbing notion. It will be dissuaded. Let them dwell instead on the fact that he is a natural soldier. By the time he leads troops into battle, he will be able to match more than just one potential Swordmaster.' The old lord gestured towards the door. 'Thank you, Swordmaster. That is all.'

Unable to voice any of his many questions, Kerin bowed his head in acknowledgement, still a little stunned that the matter had been dealt with so swiftly. By the time he collected himself and made for the door, Bahl had already turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.

Bahl waited until he heard the door close behind Kerin, then pushed the papers away and looked over to his Chief Steward's expectant face-

'I will speak to the boy, remind him of the importance of retaining his composure, and not destroying valuable soldiers.'

'And what of Certinse's parents? When they hear of it, the suzerain will lodge a suit against Isak and the Swordmaster. Damn the boy, why couldn't he have killed someone rather less important? If he's desperate for blood there are plenty of criminals in the gaol.'

'Enough, Lesarl; his blood was up and the man tried to kill him. You can't expect less from a white-eye; I would have done the same. I'm more interested in why this happened at all. Kerin's too sensible to start this duel, and Sir Dirass was a grown man. Quite aside from the fact that he's fought with white-eyes before and must know their temper, the political problems it would bring alone would have stopped his hand.'

Bahl stared over his desk at the blank wall, deep in thought. Then he looked at Lesarl. 'Aracnan said there had been something wrong when he met the boy; you say the father demanded Isak be hanged last night, and now a intelligent man takes it upon himself to defy orders and attempt to kill him,' he said softly.

Aracnan's words the previous night came back to him. The boy's trouble, but now he is your trouble. He expected those words to come up rather often now.

'Well, speaking of problems,' Lesarl broke in, 'Cardinal Certinse has demanded an explanation. The arrogant bastard's already acting as though he were High Cardinal of Nartis. He informs me that he has written to both of his brothers to let them know about "this latest outrage". I don't know whether the man still thinks he can intimidate me, but I had hoped to put this problem with the Knights of the Temples behind us. Knight-Cardinal Certinse might use this as an excuse to come home, and perhaps bring a few of his men along for Protection. If that looks likely, I'd sooner have him killed before he crosses our border.'

‘I think you're getting ahead of yourself there.'

‘Well, you must admit it is a possibility. The Cardinal and Suzerain

Certinse I can probably shut up; the Knight-Cardinal is a different matter. What would you have me do there?'

Bahl sighed. 'Let's deal with Isak first. The Devoted are a problem for another day.'

CHAPTER 7

Quitin Amanas was a strange man. His family and friends all knew it, and it looked like the palace guardsman standing stiffly before his desk was well on the way to forming that same opinion. No doubt his reaction to Lord Bahl's summons was not quite what the man had expected, because Amanas was relieved rather than apprehensive. Though the new Krann had been in the palace barely a week and the city was still aflame with gossip about him, Amanas had been expecting this summons for a lot longer; he would be glad to finally meet the one at the root of all this excitement. Tell me, young man, what's the Krann like?'

The soldier blinked in surprise. 'He's- well, he's a white-eye. They're all pretty much the same, aren't they, sir?'

'But he's one of the Chosen, and that will make him different.' 'Still a white-eye, sir – quiet till you piss him off – ah, if you'll pardon the expression, sir. Killed a man on his first day; they say he did it like it was an everyday occurrence.' 'I'm sure there was more to it than that.'

'Oh, probably, sir,' the guardsman agreed quickly, rather patronisingly in Amanas's opinion, 'but that's all I've heard.'

'Tell me, do you know what I do?'

'You, sir? Well the library is where all the family trees are kept. I suppose you're needed to sort out his estates, now that he's a suzerain.’

Amanas wrinkled his nose, the guardsman smelled how soldiers always smelled: a damp scent of metal and ripe sweat-stained leather that the pristine white livery covering it could do nothing about-The longer the guardsman stood there, the more palpable it became – hardly his fault, of course, but still it made Amanas uncomfortable-Men of violence were unpredictable. He imagined it would be a small thing for the guardsman to draw the sword at his side and run him

through. No doubt as a soldier he had done it many times before. Once more would probably matter little at his day of judgement. It troubled Amanas to be confronted by such a person.

'I do keep the library, but I also produce the crests and colours for newly ennobled men, as well as personal emblems for men of good family when they come of age. No doubt you thought that was just a case of drawing a suitable creature to carry on your shield?'

The soldier shrugged, plainly confused by the whole situation. 'I won't deny that I've dreamed of a knighthood, like every man in the Guard, but I've never really thought about that part of it, how the crest would be drawn up.'

'Actually, it is a little more complicated than just "drawing something up". It requires a blend of magic and artistry. If you like, I could show you how. Give me your hand.'

At the mere mention of magic the guardsman recoiled from Amanas's outstretched hand.

'No? Oh well, perhaps it would be tempting Fate – her sense of humour is somewhat notorious, after all. In any case, my powers are very weak and specialised. When I touch a man I can visualise something of his spirit, and what he could become. The interpretation is, of course, a vastly different matter, and much depends on context. Karlat Lomin is a good example of that; you know of him, Scion Lomin?'

The guard nodded. 'Of course, sir. Everyone's saying how his father the duke has taken a turn for the worse; that he won't last through winter. It won't be long until the scion becomes the fourth-most powerful man in the country. And last week,' he added in a concerned voice, 'the Krann killed Scion Lomin's cousin in weapons training ~ ran him right through, sir.'

'So I heard, most unfortunate. The scion's crest is that of a snarling wolf's head. The obvious implications are borne out by his noted prowess at arms, but if you take his family crest into consideration – a castle keep – then it could just as easily refer to how men see wolves, as

savage and violent creatures.'

The guardsman took a step back. 'I wouldn't know about that, sir, but I'd advise you to be more careful with your opinions of the scion;

you'd have to be mad to get on the wrong side of him.'

'Oh, I'm not important enough to bother the great house of Lomin.

In any case, my talents are very useful to the nobility in general. You need to have a tendency towards prophecy to do what I do and that'

rare enough to protect me.’