'I said listen!' bellowed Bahl, half-rising from his seat. His great hands gripped the mahogany desk as he leaned forward into Isak's face, the curl of a snarl appearing from nowhere. Isak matched it, rising himself. The shadows darkened in the room and the copper tang of magic suddenly filled the air as Bahl's anger flared. Isak's mirrored it, his eyes blazing, but before anything more could happen he felt a near-irresistible demand from Eolis. His hand twitched down of its own accord before he snatched it back in horror.

The shock restored his senses and he leaned heavily on the desk as the strength fled from his body, hardly aware that White Lightning was now nestled in Bahl's grip. The old Lord narrowed his eyes. He had expected an attack, but Isak was so stunned by the power of what had just happened that a breeze could have toppled him.

Isak looked up, slowly recognising Bahl's own readiness; his great blade was swept back and ready to strike. The younger man dropped to one knee, realising how close they had come to blows for no reason other than his own impatience. There was real contrition when at last he found his voice. 'My Lord, forgive me. I- I don't know what came over me.'

Isak slowly unbuckled his bleached leather sword-belt, a gift from the new Suzerain Fordan, and let it drop to the floor. Only then did he dare lift his head.

Bahl hesitated, wary of a ruse; it was a moment or two before cen-turies of instinct let him relax again.

Only then did Isak stand and retrieve his chair, waiting for Bahl's consent before sitting again.

'That's one reason why you should leave for a while. We've had enough of each other's company for a while. Also, with this Shalstik matter, I think it is safe to say they could try again. I want you to go west, to Narkang. It'll be a long way for trouble to follow unnoticed, and that aside, King Emin would be a good ally.'

Isak considered Bahl's words. He knew a little about Narkang, the emerging kingdom in the west, where all of the cities were populated by people of mixed blood, not pure-bred members of any of the Seven Tribes. The tribes had always looked down on half-breeds, but King Emin had created a nation to rival them all.

'Emin Thonal took the crown at the age of twenty-one, and three

years later he conquered Aroth, the larger of his neighbours,' Lord Bahl said. 'Two years after that the renowned warriors of Canar Fell

surrendered on the field rather than face utter destruction, and five years on, Canar Thrit bowed to economic pressure and voted to join Thonal's kingdom. In the space of twenty years, Narkang has grown to one of the largest and most prosperous cities in the entire Land.

'King Emin could be a valuable ally. Our man there is sure that the king has halted his expansion and there is room now for friendship. He could be vital if there's more trouble on the horizon, and you'll find more to learn about court politics in Narkang than even Lesarl could teach you here.'

'I will do as you command,' said Isak quietly, bowing his head

again.

'I don't want you to do as I command,' Bahl replied, softening his

voice a little. 'I want you to understand why this is a good idea. We've spent too long together on the journey back; I do not wish to let bad blood come between us. You're still young and hot-headed, I am perhaps rather set in my ways.'

Isak kept his eyes on the floor to hide his smile in case the old Lord had missed the humour in his words. The Krann knew he was rash, but Bahl's temper was at least as much of a danger to those around.

'Then I do agree, my Lord. I have no wish to be a prisoner in the palace, constantly on my guard for the next Estashanti assassin. And who could turn down the chance to visit Narkang?' He forced a smile to diffuse the last of the tension.

'Good. We will discuss this again later, but there is a rather more pressing matter, one that will, to a degree, explain your short temper. Tell me, do you feel anything different? Anything out of place?'

Isak shot his master a questioning look, unsure what Bahl was expecting from him. The Lord sighed.

‘No matter, I was not sure whether you would be able to actually tell, but I think it is affecting you anyway. You'll no doubt recognise it in future, once you've felt his presence more strongly.'

Isak's face remained blank. Bahl stood and spread his hands in exasperation. 'We have a visitor. I only noticed him once we had driven the elves out, but now he's in the city and about to arrive at our gate. Pick up your sword and come with me to greet him. Just keep your temper in check. He isn't as forgiving as some.'

Isak looked for a name, but was ignored as Bahl walked around him, a slight smile twisting his mouth, and opened the door. The main wing of the palace was four storeys high, with a warren of cellars extending beneath. BahPs chambers, which occupied much of the small top floor, had a balcony running around them to give a view of the city over the peaked roof of the Great Hall. The palace was rather more functional than the name suggested, lacking the decoration that characterised the homes of the richest noblemen in the city. Only small things, like the number of glass panes, belied Tirah Palace's martial image.

Both men wore soft leather boots; despite their size, they padded down the main staircase as stealthily as panthers, shocking the soldier and maid who were chatting conspiratorially at the bottom. Both jumped when Isak cleared his throat just behind them, bowing as Isak smirked, then moving swiftly out of the way as Bahl strode past imperiously.

In the Great Hall the two white-eyes drew curious glances, but those were cut off when the warning horn sounded through the clear winter air. Men jumped to their feet, bowls, glasses and goblets and cutlery flying in all directions as they scrabbled for their weapons. A pair of guardsmen had been just entering when the horn rang – by the time the louder steel clang of the attack alarm followed, they were ready, their weapons drawn.

Bahl, a vision of calm, walked through the open door, Isak still close behind him. The stone steps that led to the training ground were icy and treacherous, but he trotted briskly down and made his way straight to the barbican. Isak noticed a bright light flaring from the normally murky depths of the tunnel.

As he hurried to keep up with Bahl, a wave of awareness broke over

him and rocked him on his heels. He could feel a burst of magic echo

out, an alien feeling that set every nerve screaming danger. His hand

flew to Eolis so quickly that the Ghosts scrambling past leapt back in

surprise.

He had half-drawn the blade when he realised that the old Lord

was still quite unconcerned. No doubt he could feel the same, but he

appeared not to mind. Ramming Eolis back into its sheath, Isak broke

into a jog and caught up. Now he recognised the difference that Bahl

had mentioned, the feeling of something that was out of place.

As they entered the tunnel, they saw six men with weapons drawn, frozen into silhouette by a gigantic figure. A deep bellow of laughter

echoed towards them while massive flames danced from the outstretched hands of the monstrous visitor. Isak felt Bahl draw magic into himself and followed suit, fighting the urge to tear Eolis out and charge straight in.

As he closed, Isak took a better look at the newcomer, and realised with a gasp that it was a Chetse white – eye, a huge man whose barrel chest almost surpassed description. The Chetse was shorter than Isak, only a hand taller than the guards levelling drawn bows at him, but lack of height did not detract from his unbelievable size.

All Chetse were muscular compared to the Farlan, and this man could have been a caricature if it hadn't been for the aura of raw, limitless strength that surrounded him. He was cackling with sheer pleasure as the leaping slices of fire raced up to the roof and played in loops about his arms.