'Excessive piety has its uses,' commented Emin as he indicated the shrine. 'Would you be kind enough to move that to one side? It should go very easily for one of your strength; it pivots about the right-hand side.'

Isak looked suspiciously at the shrine, but he could detect no magic anywhere so he nodded and gripped the sides carefully. The shrine did indeed twist to the right with almost no effort. The wide base moved aside to reveal a hole in the ground. Isak peered in, he could see nothing. The king smiled and bowed in mock thanks, then stepped past the Farlan Lord and crouched down to the hole.

'The city worries that I have some distressing skin condition. I spend many hours at the baths, so they naturally fear the worst. My doctor is well paid to possess a creative imagination, and by half a dozen others to reveal all he knows. He's starting to enjoy it now, I think.'

He smiled and dropped through into the black depths. The Krann

turned and caught Mihn's amused expression. He still couldn't see

anything, but if the king had taken that fall so easily, how could he

not? Another lesson, it appeared, whether intentional or not: find out

how deep the hole is before you show it to anyone else! Isak reached

a hand out into the space before him and concentrated. It was easy

now. Within a few seconds a faint blue glow began to emanate from

his fingertips, then it increased in intensity, creeping out to caress the

smooth walls of the tunnel below and the floor, perhaps seven feet

down.

Emin waited casually to one side, one eyebrow raised theatrically at Isak's use of magic. 'Come, my Lord, time is a-was ting.'

Isak dropped down, followed by Mihn, and then Coran lowered himself down carefully and deliberately. Isak was puzzled until he saw Coran drop the last few feet on to his right leg. Interesting, Isak thought: given the recuperative powers of most white-eyes, either that damaged leg was a recent injury, or it had been a very severe one.

The king reached out and touched his fingers to a rope that ran all the way down the side of the wood-beamed tunnel. With the light Isak still brandished it was unnecessary, but Emin still trotted his fingers along the rope as he walked off down the slightly sloping tunnel, followed by Coran and then, with a shrug, Isak and Mihn.

As Emin chattered idly away, the hole quietly closed up behind them.

CHAPTER 3O

'Your Majesty-'

'Please, interrupted the king, 'that's a little formal for these surroundings, don't you think? Call me Emin – at least when there's no one around to sniff at the breach in protocol!'

'Of course,' Isak said. 'What I wanted to know was why you use the "heart" rune.'

Emin turned, the weak light casting a strange shadow on his face. 'For the Brotherhood?' He shrugged. 'A whim, nothing more. Did Fedei tell you that?'

Isak nodded.

The king didn't seem at all irritated at all by the Seer's revelation, merely curious. 'My only requirement was a basic design that could be recognisable, even when so small. I decided on a core rune because they are very simple, and chose "heart" because it can mean "kernel" or "stone" in certain contexts, like a cherry stone, for example. I thought that apt for Narkang: rich and sweet, but under the surface not so vulnerable. If an enemy takes too great a bite, he'll break his teeth, I promise. That's all, nothing more sinister.' He laughed. 'Why?'

Isak shook his head. 'No reason; it just struck me as strange.'

'As does much in this life, I find. Ah, here we are.'

They had walked several hundred yards and now the tunnel ended abruptly at a wall set with iron rungs. Isak could see a square wooden shaft with slivers of light creeping through the gaps between the higher planks. The rungs were no more than finger-thick steel rods, bent into two right angles and hammered into the rock. Isak tested the first gingerly after Emin had climbed up, but it was clear they went deep. By the time Isak reached halfway up, the king had exited through a trapdoor and into what looked like a cupboard.

Isak peered through at floor level and wrinkled his nose at the thick odour of dust. Squeezing his arms and shoulders through the hole, Isak raised himself up into the small space, brushing away a musty-smelling cape as it stroked his face. He wondered who owned it, and where they were – it didn't seem fitting that a king should own something so frayed. Then he grinned and reminded himself that he wasn't the only one with a previous life. The king had taken his throne by force; maybe this cape was a reminder of sorts. The door stood ajar and Isak paused for a second, listening to the voices, before pushing his way into the room.

'Captain, we have a visitor. Could you please tell Antern to come up, and any of the Brothers who might be around? Our newcomer and the librarian might also want to meet my guest. I suspect most are in, no?'

They are,' confirmed a gruff old voice grumpily. 'I was up here trying to find some peace and quiet.'

'But again I have confounded you, my apologies. Ah, Lord Isak, please make yourself comfortable.'

Emin gestured to the empty room as he ushered out a bulky man with silver hair. It was luxuriously furnished, with a large oak desk dominating one end, eight armchairs in a half-circle before it. Paintings adorned every wall, landscapes, for the most part: a distant village surrounded by hills,,a vista of the city busy under summer sun. Isak went to a window and looked out through the leaded glass. In the distance he could see the copper dome of the Public Assembly building glowing in the afternoon sun.

This is the Di Senego Club. A small gentlemen's club of no great importance to the would-be power brokers of the city,' explained Emin as Mihn and Coran emerged in turn from the cupboard.

Mihn checked the door, then went to inspect the windows. Apparently satisfied, he took up a position by the door with a view of the whole room. The king moved behind the desk and unbuckled his sword-belt, hanging the gold-hiked rapier from one of two large hooks protruding from the wall.

'Please, my Lord, take a seat. A few associates of mine will be coming up shortly. I know we have important matters to discuss between us, but these are men Morghien and I trust.'

Isak found himself a chair directly opposite Emin and unbuckled his own blade. The weapon rested comfortably in the crook of his arm as he sat down. He turned to Mihn, suddenly remembering the final gift, and pointed at the backpack.

He turned back to the king. 'That reminds me, your- Emin. Morghien gave me a scroll to give to you, and I have another gift from Lord Bahl. A gesture of goodwill that he didn't wish to be quite so public.' Mihn pulled the bag from his back and retrieved the items then placed both scroll and book on to the desk.

'Mihn has told me what he knows about Morghien, but perhaps you know more about what he wants with me?' He knew he sounded a little whiny, but he was a little fed up with being the object of everyone's interest.

Emin fixed his piercing blue eyes on the Krann for a moment, then nodded. 'Of course, though the whole story is too long to relate.' He picked up the scroll and waved it in Isak's direction. 'Can I assume you've read both of these?'

'Of course. They wouldn't have been given to me otherwise.' 'Good, that will save time. As for Morghien, after his experience with the Aspect Seliasei, he wandered the Land and picked up one or two more passengers, and one of those incidents led him to be taken on as acolyte to a minor mage. They went on an expedition, organised by a group of scholars who had become acquainted through a shared study of the Mage Verliq's works. The expedition was to the ruins of Castle Keriabral, Aryn Bwr's own fortress. It fell during the Great War, under somewhat mysterious circumstances. They were escorted by a half-legion of Knights of the Temples.'