To Gamar Tilot, Scholar of the University of Col,

From Ely Laisen, Hadrumal.

Dear Gamar,

Some curious things have been turning up in our libraries lately and our mutual friend thought this might be of interest. It seems to have been written within the last generation, possibly even the last handful of years. The original is some kind of verse but the Mountain lass who translated it is far too much of a clod to compose anything like it herself.

The men of Dachasekke had long shared the Grey Seal Isle with the men of Haeldasekke. The isle bore no stones and thus men of each blood kindred returned to their own circles for justice, pleas and guidance.

So it came to pass on the whitest of nights that his ancestors sent a vision to the Clan Chief of Dachasekke and he vowed to raise a circle on the Grey Seal Isle on a rocky knoll where there was no soil for plough nor yet fodder for grazing. The Clan Chief of Haeldasekke had no such vision but, though the more influential, would not gainsay Kolbin of Dachasekke’s right to honour the dead within their own bounds.

All was well until the time of hay and harvest. Then the men of Dachasekke invited those of Haeldasekke dwelling on the Grey Seal Isle to step within their circle to honour those below the earth. This circle is closer to your homes, they said. Let us hold it in common, as we have blood in common. The Clan Chief of Haeldasekke decided he would hold more land in common if Dachasekke was wont to be so generous. He moved boundary cairns to claim the whole of the Lesser Slough once Dachasekke had made harvest.

The Clan Chief of Dachasekke was angered and summoned Scafet of Haeldasekke to meet him on the black sands of treaty that lie in the strait between his fastness and the Grey Seal Isle. He summoned Fedin of Evadasekke to stand as Law Speaker but the men of Haeldasekke would not accept him. Nor yet would they propose a Law Speaker of their own, denying any wrongdoing on their part that would justify a Law Speaker coming within their domain. The Clan Chief of Haeldasekke would not discuss the cairns but told Kolbin of Dachasekke instead of his plans to wed a daughter of Kehannasekke when the time of goat killing came.

Kolbin of Dachasekke saw this would leave him with unfriendly faces to both his flanks. He acquiesced and slew those who had invited men of Haeldasekke within their circle before withdrawing to his fastness. At the time of goat killing Scafet of Haeldasekke’s son Osmaeld married Renkana daughter to Rafekan of Kehannasekke beneath an arch of raised turf. He was an able boy with a strong spear arm while she was both promising of body and fair of face. No Law Speaker was called to stand witness to the wedding as Scafet of Haeldasekke and Rafekan of Kehannasekke agreed bride price and dowry were matters best agreed between themselves alone. Both kindreds made merry to the final part of the night.

The days of dark and hunger came and all men withdrew to their firesides. The darkest of nights came and word spread that a scorn pole had been found outside the hall of Kehannasekke’s fastness when the sun rose again. It was carved with the likeness of Renkana being used by Scafet as a dog does a bitch. No one knew whose hand raised it. Rafekan burned it and strewed the ashes into the sea, ignoring those who called this unmanly behaviour.

The hall of Haeldasekke’s fastness burned the following night.

All within the hall were killed. When the fire cooled, dead were found locked within their bed closets and the main door barred from without. Every bone was charred and broken and none could be buried without dishonour. The Clan Chief of Thrielsekke whose sister was wife to Scafet of Haeldasekke demanded that Rafekan of Kehannasekke summon a Law Speaker to determine the truth of the outrage. The Clan Chief of Kehannasekke refused, saying Scafet had suffered the judgement of his ancestors for dishonouring the wife of his son.

In the early days of the following summer Ilkehan of Kehannasekke threw down his father Rafekan and, being a capable man, was acclaimed as Clan Chief At the time of hay and harvest, Ilkehan of Kehannasekke and Kolbin of Dachasekke divided the Grey Seal Isle between themselves. The Clan Chiefs of Thrielsekke and Evadasekke both demanded they justify this action before a Law Speaker but none could be found whom all could agree on.

At the time of goat killing, the Clan Chief of Kehannasekke raised a circle for the men of the Grey Seal Isle now of Kehannasekke on a rocky knoll where there was no soil for plough nor yet fodder for grazing.

My first thought on waking was astonishment that I could have closed my eyes long enough to fall asleep. The second was utter determination to get out of this black hole. I was on my feet with my next breath.

“Livak?” Ryshad’s voice came from somewhere in the blackness.

“Who are you expecting?” Sorgrad’s voice was amused.

“Some long-dead Elietimm?” queried ’Gren with relish.

“That’s not funny,” I said severely. Realising Ryshad’s jerkin had pillowed my head, I bent down to pick it up. No one could see me so I held it close to breathe in the reassuring scent of him.

The stones began to glow with the nimbus of magelight. “Good morning.” Shiv unfolded his long limbs from the niche and yawned. “You wouldn’t believe how stiff I am.”

“Trust me, I can.” I stretched my arms above my head in a vain attempt to ease the kinks out of my back. “Let’s sleep in proper beds tonight.”

The strengthening light reached Ryshad sitting at the base of the stair. He smiled at me with unmistakable promise. I winked pertly at him before turning serious. “Do we have any notion if Elietimm are still netting this burrow?”

“I went up top when I woke.” ’Gren shrugged in the pale light radiating from the far wall. “I couldn’t hear a thing.”

“That’s the good news.” Sorgrad perched unconcerned in one of the bone-filled niches. “The bad news is that’s definitely the only way out of here.”

“Definitely.” Ryshad confirmed our predicament. If the brothers brought up in the cave-riddled mountains and Ryshad with his knowledge of stone working couldn’t find another door, there wasn’t one to find. “Shiv, can you tell if there’s anyone up above?”

The nondescript light deepened to a pool of mossy green around the mage and a puddle of water coalesced in his cupped hands. He grimaced. “Can someone drop some ink in here, please?”

Ryshad obliged from his belt pouch.

“Why are you carrying ink?” asked ’Gren with interest.

“You never know when you might want some.” Ryshad was looking at the mage as intently as the rest of us. “Just a quick look, Shiv. We don’t want you falling foul of some adept out to revenge Ilkehan.”

Shiv nodded. “There’s no one waiting for us.” He splashed the water into his face to wash the sleep from his eyes. I was about to point out there’d been ink in it but, with blue paint still coating us all, there wasn’t much point.

“Where are we heading?” Sorgrad jumped down to the floor and crossed to the stair, his boots echoing on the stone floor. I joined him, ’Gren ushering Shiv ahead and taking up the rearguard.

“We get well away from here, then we let Halice and Temar know Ilkehan’s out of the game. They can set about throwing Muredarch and his wharf rats into the ocean.” Ryshad reached down to my raised hand and pulled me up beside him. I brushed a brief kiss across his cheek as I returned his jerkin.

“I need a shave,” he grimaced.

“I’ll forgive you, just this once,” I mocked affectionately.