As Bahl walked through the top floor of the palace, he noted the dry and lifeless atmosphere with a growing distaste. Few people came up here – the guest apartments for court-ranked nobles were on a lower floor. Neither fresh rushes on the floors nor the smell of beeswax did much to change the impression of a temple, deserted yet still full of

quiet reverence.

Bahl went first to Isak's chambers, then down to the library, where he paused at the entrance. He ran a hand lightly over the faded painting that covered the double doors: one of his more enlightened predecessors had been responsible for this picture, which still clearly showed his message to all who would follow him. It depicted a figure,

no doubt the Lord himself, sword sheathed and carrying only a handful of scrolls as he faced down an approaching army. It was a message Atro had never appreciated, for all his acquisitiveness; few white-eyes would.

As he had expected, Bahl found Tila within, a book lying forgotten in her lap as she stared out through the bay window. The library had once been a temple to the remaining Gods of the Upper Circle before a past Lord who valued learning over piety had converted it. Few recognised this room as the treasure trove it was: more than a thousand leather-bound books and dusty scrolls gathered together in a Land where fear of heresy, prophecy and magic meant academics had to work in secret and the history of the Land was hidden in legend and fable: truth buried in myth. With daemons and Aspects – local gods subordinate to a more powerful deity – part of everyday life for some men, knowledge and the written word were as powerful as they were dangerous.

A fire crackling in the wide hearth off to his left took the edge off the cool air. Even in the depths of winter, the library was a sanctuary, away from the crowded, noisy Great Hall. The Chief Steward, using a burning log from the constant fire in the Great Hall, lit the fire in the library first, as tradition dictated. The tradition predated Bahl: it was a symbolic act that Lesarl had determinedly retained.

Bahl crossed over to the fireplace and added more logs. The noise startled Tila and she jumped to her feet, sending the book clattering to the floor. She winced, knowing full well how expensive each volume was.

'My Lord-' she started, but he cut her off with a look, then dragged a heavy oak chair closer to the fire and indicated that she should do the same. He leaned in close to banish the dismal chill in his bones.

'We should talk,' he announced softly. Tila sat primly upright with her hands clamped together in her lap, waiting for him to continue, but Bahl took a minute to look her up and down first. The girl wore rather more jewellery than Lesarl usually permitted, but as most was religious, Bahl didn't comment. Unlike most Farlan, her eyes were light in colour, a soft hazel with flashes of yellow; eyes more suited to laughter than sorrow.

'You're close to my Krann.' No question, merely a statement of fact.

'Yes, my Lord. He… Lord Isak doesn't require much of me, only that I teach him all I can, of the wars of the Houses, the Age of Gods, any small story 1 might have told my niece before bed.' She wasn't sure what Lord Bahl wanted her to say. 'He leams quickly?'

'Oh yes! He is hungry to hear everything, 1 suppose because he never had a mother to-' She halted abruptly. Bahl's early life had been far harsher than Isak's; the entire palace knew that. 'He also questions the stories; he wants to know why things happen.' 'Give me an example.'

Tila thought a moment, her lips slightly pursed. 'Well, the punishments of the cursed. I'd never thought about why they were punished differently, but that interested Isak more than the punishments themselves. A couple of times last week he even corrected the priests – well, the ones who still go near him after what he did to Afger Wetlen.' She hesitated again, scared that she was saying too much, or sounding like a gossip – that could cost her Isak's friendship as well as

her position.

Bahl drew his cloak tighter around himself and gazed away at the shelves behind Tila's head. 'Yes, that was unexpected,' he murmured, almost to himself, before turning his attention back to the maid. 'No matter, it brings me to what I wish to say. Isak is special, and not just as my Krann. The Age of Fulfilment is a bad time to be special.'

Tila nodded, her head turning fractionally towards the bay window she'd been watching Isak from.

'A Lord is blessed beyond any other mortal, but the Gods are not nursemaids. They expect and demand unwavering loyalty. A Lord should love only his patron, because to love another is to have a point of weakness.' Bahl was speaking as much to the past, and giving the warning Ineh had never had. 'No matter what he whispers in the night, he cannot always protect you-'

'My Lord!' she protested, a scarlet flush in her cheeks. 'He's not-we've not…' She couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence before the Chosen of the Gods. Bahl was surprised, but she was telling the truth. No one could lie to him, not even hardened criminals or

politicians.

'So you're not that close yet – but is it just a matter of time! Tell

me, girl, and truthfully.'

'I-' Tila lowered her eyes to escape her Master's scrutiny. 'You have feelings for him? Foolish, very foolish.'

That sparked defiance in Tila. 'Lord Isak and I have much in common; we enjoy each other's company,' she said, a trace of bitterness in her voice. 'What does it matter whether I do or not? Why else was I sent to here in the first place?'

Bahl raised an eyebrow. 'Your parents will want you to secure a post in Isak's retinue and gain influence enough to be a useful bride. Lord Isak is a white-eye, not some major promoted from the ranks that you can housetrain into polite society. You could not have a family with him, could not grow old with him. Those gifts he now carries would make you the most valuable hostage in the entire Land.'

Tila nodded. 'I know that, my Lord. I have not even thought of discussing the future with Lord Isak. At the moment I just care that he comes back alive.'

'You doubt his skills? However much he grins and acts the jester, a white-eye is born to fight and to survive; Isak's no exception there.'

'I understand, my Lord,' she said. 'I just can't help thinking that an army in winter must want more than just slaves, and those gifts fit the puzzle. Isak is inexperienced enough without a whole army intent on killing him specifically.' She released her hands for a moment to tease a thin citrine ring into a more comfortable position, then her fingers tightened around each other again.

'I am pleased that you understand,' Bahl said. 'Isak will need staff who can anticipate as well as organise. Too many of my nobles still say this attack is nothing more than evidence of elven insanity. Those who do recall the name Shalstik dismiss it.'

Tila frowned for a moment, then understanding dawned. 'Shalstik; I remember that. My mother couldn't stop boasting when a Harlequin stayed as her sister's house-guest for a week over the summer. This one apparently told the Prophecy of Shalstik every night for a week. My bother said the prophecy concerned the rebirth of the last king; but surely they cannot think Lord Isak is really Aryn Bwr reborn?'

Dahl snorted. 'No, I seriously doubt even they do, but those weap-

ons enough by themselves to start a holy war with the elves. If they have decided their time has come, I don't know what it will take to stop them. I hope I never find out. Until then, think on what we said. There is no room in Isak's life for romantic fancies.' He stood and looked into the crackling fire. A gust of wind ran down the chimney, sending a puff of smoke out into the room. Before the curls of grey could reach Tila they stopped, hanging listlessly for a moment before fading to nothing.