Page 10 of The Exquisite Torment of Loving Your Enemy

That evening, having led theChemiluminator demonstration only mildly distracted by what was to come, Aurienne returned to her quarters to change into something black. She searched with increasing desperation through a wardrobe consisting chiefly of Haelan whites, discovering, eventually, dark wool trousers and a black roll-neck. She donned her blackest boots and a cape of navy and twisted her hair into a meticulous plait, pinned to her crown. A pair of black two-button gloves gave the ensemble a final whiff of criminality.

Aurienne pulled her cloak around herself to cover her unusual attire and descended the spiral stair that led out of the north tower.

The Wardens on duty saluted her as she strode through Swanstone’s courtyards on her way to the portcullis. Their plate armour and closed-face helmets made it difficult to identify who was who. Aurienne had grown to recognise them through their body language or their brief words of greeting: Verity, the leader and the friendliest, which wasn’t saying much; Haven, brash; Solace, quiet; Ataraxia, always up on the ramparts; Tenet, the taciturn ward specialist.

Aurienne very much hoped that she wouldn’t need rescue by any of them when she eventually broke into the Færwundor. Each of the Wardens bore an enormous spear, but far deadlier were their wards, which trapped any who came within range and, with the twitch of a gauntleted finger, dismembered them. No Druid deserved such a fate. As for Mordaunt, unless he did some extremely speedy shadow-walking, he’d be reduced to a slurry. If the Druidsandthe Wardens got hold of him, he could be the first person to experience a Fourfold Death.

Engrossed in these morbid thoughts, Aurienne approached Verityand Haven at the portcullis. Their glowing wards flickered restlessly across the flagstones. When they reached a wall, the wards tilted and shimmered upwards and danced over carved swans.

“Good evening,” said Aurienne, flashing her tacn at them.

Haven, nearest the postern gate, pulled it open. “Off to the waystone, Haelan?”

“Yes,” said Aurienne. “I should be back by tomorrow morning.”

“One of us will walk with you,” said Haven. “New protocol.”

“That’s fine,” said Aurienne, who was very aware of the new protocol—and its provenance.

Verity, however, was not, and took the opportunity, as they crossed the bridge to the mainland, to query Aurienne about it in her clipped sentences. “The Heads of your Order have learned of an imminent threat. They’ve refused to give my Order details, other than that Swanstone is a target. Do you know what that’s about?”

“I haven’t any idea,” said Aurienne. “I’ve only just heard of the new protocol, too.”

There was annoyance in Verity’s bearing, obvious even under her armour. “We’re under oath to protect the place; we’re being told it’s in danger, but not being told what the threat is. Tenet’s been stationed here for the next fortnight.”

“She’s the Warden doing the enhanced wards on the windows and things? I’ve seen her at work.”

“Yes. She doesn’t know what we’re up against, either.”

What they were up against was Tristane, the Fyren Order’s warchief, but Aurienne couldn’t say so—it would raise rather awkward questions, such as how Aurienne knew such highly confidential operational intelligence pertaining to an enemy Order. Osric Mordaunt had shared the information with Aurienne, who had shared it with Xanthe, who had given a redacted version to the other Heads of the Haelan Order, who had filtered an even more redacted version to the leader of the Warden Order.

And so, poor frustrated Verity was reduced to Haelan babysitting, clanging along beside Aurienne.

“Perhaps it’s something political,” ventured Aurienne, as it would be normal to indulge in some light speculation if one didn’t know the truth.

“Our Orders are above the political,” said Verity. “But if it is, we should know about it.”

“Is it only Swanstone that’s of interest, or have you also been warned about the Warden HQ?”

“Only Swanstone,” said Verity. “I don’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to attack Tintagel Castle.”

“I hope it’s only a temporary threat,” said Aurienne. “But I’m not worried, anyway—we’re in the best possible hands with your Order here.”

Verity accepted this with a nod; as far as she was concerned, it wasn’t a compliment, but a fact.

Mordaunt had given Aurienne advice regarding where to ward to dissuade Tristane from entering Swanstone, including the bridge to the mainland. Aurienne had passed the suggestion on and was pleased to see that it had been done.

They neared the village of Swanstone-on-Sea, where the pub and its attached waystone were. Verity slid open the palm of her right gauntlet and pointed her tacn—the horned head of an auroch—at the ground. Her wards spread around both her feet and Aurienne’s. Passersby gave them both a wide berth.

Aurienne had always been intrigued by wards. As a Haelan, she was trained to control seith in specific contexts, almost all internal, requiring the physical touch of her tacn. The Wardens were able to manipulate their seith in this external way and control it from a distance. The closest Aurienne came to such a thing was the seith markers she had put in Mordaunt, which would sit inert indefinitely until she chose to deploy that seith. But it was, again, an internal application of seith—meanwhile, the Wardens could cover entire buildings with theirs.

The Orders jealously guarded their secrets, however, and Aurienne’s occasional queries on the hows of warding were responded to with brief generalities by Verity and the other Wardens. For their part, the Wardens were equally fascinated by how the Haelan used their seith. During her rotations at the infirmary of Tintagel Castle, Aurienne was subject to wide eyes and disbelieving shakes of the head when she sealed up wounds.

Aurienne and Verity came to the Publish or Perish, the village pub. Aurienne was pleased to see Tenet at the waystone, at work on an elaborate ward at its base.

“I’m ravenous,” said Aurienne. “I’m going to pop into the pub for a pie and chips first. Thank you for accompanying me tonight.”

Verity gave no answer but a dry salute.