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‘But no such accusation has been formally levelled, has it, sir?’

‘You have something to suggest?’

She nodded. ‘Sir, the word’s out, from the surviving scouts who reached us. The Deniers are now organized, and since that is so, then it follows that someone is doing the organizing. It would be a stretch to imagine the forest-grubbers managing that on their own. I understand the Shake monasteries have proclaimed themselves neutral, but they do share the same faith, sir.’

‘Go on. I am intrigued.’

‘Yannis and Yedan monasteries, sir. If stealth can win us entry into Manalle’s keep, then why not the monasteries? In terms of resupply, we could do no better, and besides, we would be effectively removing the Shake from the field, and thereby not have to rely on their promises of neutrality. Besides, how much faith can we place in goodwill, sir, in the midst of civil war?’

‘An attack, justified by the charge that their agents have turned their forest-dwelling followers into an army?’

‘As I said, sir, someone is organizing the forest-grubbers. Who else would have reason to do so? And more to the point, who else could claim the authority?’

‘The priestly warriors of the Shake, lieutenant, are formidable. It won’t be like facing the Wardens.’

‘Stealth, sir, as you said. A night attack, an opened gate. If we catch them unawares.’

Hallyd considered. There was merit to this. What a coup it would be! Hunn Raal would have no choice, then, but to acknowledge Hallyd Bahann as second only to Raal himself. The annihilation of the Shake was tactically sound. Esk was right – it would be foolish to trust in that official pronouncement of neutrality.

We could loot the temples, strip their stores, their weapons. We could cut out the heart of their pathetic cult. But most of all, we will be ending the old line of regal blood, thereby eliminating any complications for the future. No possible rivals to the thrones, not with Sheccanto and Skelenal dead.

‘Inform your fellow officers, Esk, we ride southeast, to Yannis.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Oh, and how many scouts made it back?’

‘Eleven thus far, sir.’

‘Execute them on charges of cowardice and abandoning their comrades. Cowardice is rot and I’ll not see it fester in my ranks.’

‘Yes sir.’

For years, Hallyd had believed that the lone Jheleck had killed with his own hands all those wild dogs, only to overhear, one day, an offhand comment from his father. The savage had simply poisoned the animals with tainted meat. The lesson shifted in Hallyd’s mind, then, from notions of appalling prowess and physical might to the elegance of cold expedience. And for that, the fool got paid in cider and a single cask. Even the cunning can be witless. In that man’s place, I would have demanded ten horses, or more.

‘How big a fool was that hunter, son?’ his father had asked when they’d discussed it. ‘Poison. I could have done the same to the cider.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘No point. Either way, it’s a fouled cask.’

Hallyd Bahann began dressing in his armour. Fouled cask. Yes. When I return, Hunn Raal, I’ll see your forced smile, feel your brittle clasp of congratulations upon my shoulder, and see you struggle to keep your footing firm.

But fear not, when all is said and done, and we’ve ridden through the gates of the Citadel, trailing our collection of skulls, you and I will share a drink. But then, I could never match you cup for cup, so I’ll take instead some mulled wine, and leave to you the cask.

We’ll toast your cunning and mine, and then take measure of the wits between them.

He paused, thinking about the drunken fool, sweaty and clumsy as he struggled to pleasure Tathe Lorat. Indeed, by the time he returned, she would have unmanned him utterly.

We’ll make of him our fool, and when he is finished, why, we’ll turn upon Urusander himself. Old man, you had your glory, but those days are long past, now. Father Light is but a title, and one that, I wager, can be worn

by any of us.

Ah, my friends, the days ahead will be adventurous.

* * *

Wearing cloaks of unbleached fleece, Master-at-arms Gelas Storco and Sergeant Threadbare lay well concealed upon the ridge, amidst ash-grey ribs of snow, exposed granite and withered grass. The sergeant held a seeing tube to one eye. It was said to be Jaghut in origin, and had been in the possession of Greater House Manaleth for more than two centuries. Threadbare, leader of the company of scouts and trackers, had explained the inner workings of the brass and blackwood tube, but talk of mirrors and polished lenses made little sense to Gelas.

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