that’s not a concern for tonight - more importantly, Xeliath has entered the city.’
‘Xeliath? Are Morghien and Mihn with her?’
Isak shook his head. ‘Can’t tell, but I hope so. It will be good to see Mihn again.’ He pictured the tidy little man with his placid expression and acrobatic skills whose failure of memory in the final test had led to his exile from the Harlequin clans. Since coming into Isak’s service, Mihn’s many abilities had proved invaluable, as had his undemanding friendship. Yes, it will be good to have Mihn in my shadow again.
‘Do you want us to sit in on your first meeting?’
‘This isn’t an arranged marriage; we’re not negotiating terms,’ Isak said wearily. ‘I’m sure they’ll all want to sleep for a week - there’s no urgent intelligence we need and the journey will have taken a toll on Xeliath’s health.’
‘Should we leave?’
Isak sighed and stretched his feet out, planting the heels of his boots on a slender mahogany table that wobbled alarmingly under the weight. ‘Could you stay?’ He stretched his neck and twisted his head to one side and then the other, trying to work out the cricks. ‘I don’t really want to talk about tonight; I’d like to just sit with my friends and pretend the Land doesn’t want me dead, at least until they arrive.’
The guardsman, a lone figure on the drawbridge, took long measured steps back and forth in the quiet cold of night as he waited for life to stir in the city. It was well past midnight and the streets were silent. Alterr was hidden by cloud and Kasi had fallen below the horizon long ago. The soldier resisted the urge to turn his head and glare at the guardroom, where his watch partner was sitting in the warmth. As he reached the end of the drawbridge he started walking backwards immediately, keeping his eyes on the empty roads ahead at all times.
The fact that he was a white-eye and thus not required to walk the freezing streets keeping the peace did nothing to improve his mood. When at last he caught sight of movement in the distance, it was met with a hiss of irritation, one that increased as the horse-drawn carriage made its way up towards Barbican Square at little more than a gentle walk.
There were two figures on the driver’s seat and no luggage on the roof. The coach was plain - not a nobleman then, just a merchant with money to spare. Both figures were hooded and cloaked, and hunched over against the cold, their faces hidden. If it hadn’t been for Lord Isak’s direct order, he would have summoned the duty squad on principle, but as it was, he stood still and patiently awaited the coach as it rumbled towards him. It stopped at the last moment, the front wheels on the very lip of the drawbridge. The passenger jumped down from his perch on the driver’s seat and walked straight up to him, pushing back his hood to reveal a face he recognised.
‘Fetch your watch partner and a stretcher, now, please,’ he ordered.
The white-eye narrowed his eyes at the foreigner barking orders at him. ‘Can’t leave the gate unguarded,’ he said in response, ‘and last I heard, you’d been dismissed from the duke’s service.’
‘And that would make you wrong on both counts,’ Mihn replied. There was no antagonism in his voice but the white-eye bristled anyway, unwilling to be ordered around by a man without position, rank or weapon who stood more than half a foot shorter than him.
‘Who’s in the carriage?’ he asked brusquely.
‘Have you received no orders from your lord?’ Mihn asked.
‘I have.’
‘So stop arguing and take Lord Isak’s guest up to him. Then take the lady to the Chief Steward and get her the gold crown she’s been promised.’ Mihn jabbed his thumb towards the driver, who had remained hunched in her seat. Before the soldier had a chance to speak again the door of the coach opened and a man leaned out to look at them.
‘What’s the hold-up, soldier?’
The white-eye looked
‘Xeliath? Are Morghien and Mihn with her?’
Isak shook his head. ‘Can’t tell, but I hope so. It will be good to see Mihn again.’ He pictured the tidy little man with his placid expression and acrobatic skills whose failure of memory in the final test had led to his exile from the Harlequin clans. Since coming into Isak’s service, Mihn’s many abilities had proved invaluable, as had his undemanding friendship. Yes, it will be good to have Mihn in my shadow again.
‘Do you want us to sit in on your first meeting?’
‘This isn’t an arranged marriage; we’re not negotiating terms,’ Isak said wearily. ‘I’m sure they’ll all want to sleep for a week - there’s no urgent intelligence we need and the journey will have taken a toll on Xeliath’s health.’
‘Should we leave?’
Isak sighed and stretched his feet out, planting the heels of his boots on a slender mahogany table that wobbled alarmingly under the weight. ‘Could you stay?’ He stretched his neck and twisted his head to one side and then the other, trying to work out the cricks. ‘I don’t really want to talk about tonight; I’d like to just sit with my friends and pretend the Land doesn’t want me dead, at least until they arrive.’
The guardsman, a lone figure on the drawbridge, took long measured steps back and forth in the quiet cold of night as he waited for life to stir in the city. It was well past midnight and the streets were silent. Alterr was hidden by cloud and Kasi had fallen below the horizon long ago. The soldier resisted the urge to turn his head and glare at the guardroom, where his watch partner was sitting in the warmth. As he reached the end of the drawbridge he started walking backwards immediately, keeping his eyes on the empty roads ahead at all times.
The fact that he was a white-eye and thus not required to walk the freezing streets keeping the peace did nothing to improve his mood. When at last he caught sight of movement in the distance, it was met with a hiss of irritation, one that increased as the horse-drawn carriage made its way up towards Barbican Square at little more than a gentle walk.
There were two figures on the driver’s seat and no luggage on the roof. The coach was plain - not a nobleman then, just a merchant with money to spare. Both figures were hooded and cloaked, and hunched over against the cold, their faces hidden. If it hadn’t been for Lord Isak’s direct order, he would have summoned the duty squad on principle, but as it was, he stood still and patiently awaited the coach as it rumbled towards him. It stopped at the last moment, the front wheels on the very lip of the drawbridge. The passenger jumped down from his perch on the driver’s seat and walked straight up to him, pushing back his hood to reveal a face he recognised.
‘Fetch your watch partner and a stretcher, now, please,’ he ordered.
The white-eye narrowed his eyes at the foreigner barking orders at him. ‘Can’t leave the gate unguarded,’ he said in response, ‘and last I heard, you’d been dismissed from the duke’s service.’
‘And that would make you wrong on both counts,’ Mihn replied. There was no antagonism in his voice but the white-eye bristled anyway, unwilling to be ordered around by a man without position, rank or weapon who stood more than half a foot shorter than him.
‘Who’s in the carriage?’ he asked brusquely.
‘Have you received no orders from your lord?’ Mihn asked.
‘I have.’
‘So stop arguing and take Lord Isak’s guest up to him. Then take the lady to the Chief Steward and get her the gold crown she’s been promised.’ Mihn jabbed his thumb towards the driver, who had remained hunched in her seat. Before the soldier had a chance to speak again the door of the coach opened and a man leaned out to look at them.
‘What’s the hold-up, soldier?’
The white-eye looked
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