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the city and froze over the existing ice falls. On rare moments, when the sun would prevail against the normal gray pallor of the northern sky, the ginormous icicles would sparkle and produce rainbows of intricate create, perhaps the only natural beauty of the otherwise austere province.
    Rembbran noted the entourages of each of the Realm’s provincial lords positioned outside one of High Duke Wellyn’s meeting chambers as he passed by on his way to the Kail, holding his hood tight against the breeze, ensuring his concealment from those among the streets.
    Not all provincial lords, actually
, he corrected himself. Hoyt, Gonfrey and Orion were represented, but the banners of House Kerr were absent. Horses and attendants alike were clad in thickblankets and garments while they awaited the conclusion of whatever was taking place within the walls of the meeting chamber.
    Maynard met him at the entrance to the Kail, a circular nondescript building of stone that was many times wider than it was tall and whose main levels were underground. The Helsyan leader’s visage bespoke his intent to question Rembbran before allowing him entrance.
    “You did
find
her.” His words were not a question.
    “Her scent is gone,” Rembbran answered. “I cannot make sense of it. Something of ill create besets me.”
    Maynard stood unmoved.
    “Let me enter! I need the Kail’s succor!”
    “The
Urlenthi
will not be mocked, Rembbran. Your Dahlrak is incomplete. Return and finish it!”
    Rembbran growled, but Maynard showed no sign of concern. “Use discretion in where you channel your aggression, brother.”
    Maynard was the most skilled Helsyan assassin in ages. Though he did not contain the viciousness or brute strength of Rembbran—he was a more refined and eloquent killer—Maynard’s dexterity was unsurpassed. But Rembbran’s strength and speed were at heightened levels as he still labored under a Charge. Maynard had no such current advantage and yet he stood nonchalantly blocking Rembbran’s way to desperate relief.
    Rembbran charged the Helsyan leader, hitting him with a force that would have broken stone as the two of them rolled through the opening into the Kail. The savage instinct that fueled all Helsyans exploded as Rembbran’s fists pounded Maynard’s body with a speed and fury only a
Dahlrak
could bring out. He envisioned the Kerr youngling, smashing her face and crushing her small body over and over, laughing sadistically in his mental revelry.
    Accepting the punishment, Maynard did not retaliate. He blocked most blows but others landed home. After a short few moments, the explosion within Rembbran died down as the soothing Influence of the Kail overtook him, dulling the pain he suffered to a manageablelevel. It still throbbed within him, but sanity was partially restored as he was pulled back from the mental cliff over which agony had dangled him.
    “Did that help, brother?” Maynard asked.
    Rembbran breathed heavily, becoming more tired as the surge of the
Dahlrak
waned. “Maynard, I’m—”
    Before he could finish, Maynard stepped forward with a velocity too fast to block, grabbing Rembbran by the ears and bringing his head down against his upward thrusted knee. Blood spurted from Rembbran’s mouth and nose as he wailed. Maynard did not release him.
    “You have forgotten!” He slammed Rembbran’s face again to his knee. “You have forgotten your place amongst us, brother!” A third knee thrust came and Rembbran collapsed to the floor. The taste in his mouth was a new one, totally foreign to him. His own blood. It pooled around him as he lay defeated on the cold floor.
    “See to him,” Maynard said and motioned others to come forward. There was hesitation.
    “Our brother suffers from something none of us have experienced. His penance for his ill-advised actions spreads around him now,” Maynard said, pointing to the blood that puddled around Rembbran’s face. “Come forward and tend to him.”
    Rembbran