'You are leaving Kydor,' said Matze Chai.

'I am indeed.'

'Where to now? Ventria?'

Waylander shook his head. 'Across the western ocean.'

'The ocean? But why? There is nothing there – save the end of the world. It is where the stars flow into the sea. There is no land, no civilization. And even if there is land it will be barren and empty. Your wealth would be meaningless there.'

'It is meaningless here, Matze Chai.'

The elderly merchant sighed. 'You have never been content to be rich, Dakeyras. This, in some strange way I have yet to fathom, is why you are rich. You care nothing for wealth. What is it, then, that you desire?'

'I wish I could answer that,' said Waylander. 'All I can say is that this life is not for me. I have no taste for it.'

'What is it that you wish me to do?'

'You already manage one sixth of all my ventures, and hold two fifths of my wealth. I shall give you letters to all merchants with whom I have business dealings. These will inform them that, from the time they receive my instructions, you will speak for me. I shall also tell them that if they do not hear from me within five years then all my ventures and capital become yours.'

Matze Chai was aghast at the thought. He struggled to come to terms with what Waylander offered. Already wealthy, Matze Chai would become instantly the richest man in all of Chiatze. What would there be left to strive for?

'I cannot accept this,' he said. 'You must reconsider.'

'You can always give it all away,' said Waylander. 'But whatever you choose I shall sail from this world and not return.'

'Are you truly so unhappy, my old friend?' asked Matze Chai.

'Will you do as I ask?'

Matze Chai sighed again, deeply. 'I will,' he said.

Waylander rose, then smiled. 'I will tell your servants to prepare your second pot of tisane,' he said. 'They really should have brought it by now.'

'I am served by cretins,' admitted Matze Chai, 'but, then, if I did not employ them their stupidity would see them starve in the streets.'

After Waylander had left Matze Chai sat lost in thought. He had long ago ceased to be surprised by his fondness for his Gajin client. When Waylander had first come to him, all those years ago, Matze Chai had been merely curious about the man. That curiosity led him to engage the old seer. Matze had sat upon the silken rug at the centre of the temple's inner sanctum and watched as the elderly priest cast the bones.

'Will this man be a danger to me?'

'Not if you do not betray him.'

'Is he evil?'

'All men carry evil within them, Matze Chai. The question is imprecise.'

'What, then, can you tell me of him?'

'He will never be content, for his deepest desire is unattainable. Yet he will become rich, and make you rich. Is that enough for you, merchant?'

'What is this unattainable desire?'

'Deep in his heart, far below the level of conscious thought, he is desperate to save his family from terror and death. This unconscious desire drives him on, forces him to seek out danger, to pit himself against the might of violent men.'

'Why is it unattainable?'

'His family are already dead, slain in a mindless orgy of lust and depravity.'

'Surely,' said Matze Chai, 'he knows they are dead.'

'Of course. As I said, it is an unconscious desire. A part of his soul has never accepted that he was too late to save them.'

'But he will make me rich?'

'Oh, yes, Matze Chai, he will make you richer than you could ever dream possible. Be sure, however, that you recognize the riches when you have them.'

'I am sure that I will.'

The stooping servant, Omri, was waiting in the corridor outside Matze Chai's apartments. As Waylander stepped out he bowed briefly. 'Lord Aric is waiting to see you, sir, along with the magicker, Eldicar Manushan,' he said. 'I have had refreshments served to them in the Oak Room.'

'I was expecting him,' said Waylander, his expression cold.

'I must say that he looks well. I believe he has dyed his hair.'

Together the two men walked back along the corridor, and up two sets of stairs. 'The bodies have been removed, sir. Emrin had them loaded on to a wagon and has driven it into Carlis. He will make a report to the watch officer, but I expect there will be an official inquiry. The incident, I should imagine, is the talk of Carlis. One of the young men was due to be wed next week. You even received an invitation to the ceremony.'

'I know. He and I spoke of it last night, but he was in no mood to listen.'

'A shocking incident,' said Omri. 'Why did they do it? What did they have to gain?'

'They had nothing to gain. They were sent by Vanis.'

'That is disgraceful,' said Omri. 'We must inform the watch officer. You should lay charges against him.'

'That will not be necessary,' said Waylander. 'I do not doubt that Lord Aric has a plan to resolve the situation.'

'Ah, I see. A plan that no doubt involves money.'

'No doubt.'

They moved on in silence, emerging into a wide, arched hallway on the upper floor.

As they reached the doors of carved oak Omri stepped back. 'I have to say, sir,' he said, in a low voice, 'that I am not comfortable in the presence of this magicker. There is something about the man that I find disturbing.'

'You are a good judge of character, Omri. I shall bear that in mind.'

Waylander pushed open the doors and entered the Oak Room.

The room, panelled with oak, had been designed in the shape of an octagon. Rare weapons from many nations hung on the walls, a battleaxe and several hunting bows from Vagria, spears and curved scimitars from Ventria. Angostin broadswords, daggers and shields vied with tulwars, lances, pikes and several embossed crossbows. Four armour trees had been placed around the room, boasting ornate helms, breastplates and shields. The furniture consisted of twelve deep chairs and three cushion-covered couches, set upon a scattering of Chiatze rugs of hand-dyed silk. The room was lit by sunlight streaming through the high-arched, east-facing windows.

Lord Aric was seated on a couch below the window, his booted feet resting on a low table. Opposite him was the magicker, Eldicar Manushan, his blond page standing beside him. Neither man rose as Waylander entered, but Aric waved his hand and gave a broad smile. 'Good morning, my friend,' he called. 'I am so glad you could find time to join us.'

'You are up early, Lord Aric,' said Waylander. 'I have always been led to believe it was considered uncivilized for a noble to rise before noon – unless a hunt was in the offing.'

'Indeed so,' agreed Aric, 'but, then, we have pressing matters to discuss.'

Waylander sat down and stretched out his legs. The door opened and Omri entered, bearing a tray on which was set a large silver pot of tisane and three cups. The men sat in silence as he filled the cups then departed. Waylander sipped the brew. It was camomile sweetened with mint and a little honey. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste upon his tongue. Then he glanced at Aric. The slim noble was doing his best to appear at ease, but there was an underlying tension in him. Transferring his gaze to the black-bearded magicker, Waylander saw no sign of unease. Eldicar Manushan was drinking his tisane quietly, apparently lost in thought. Waylander caught the eye of the little blond boy, who smiled nervously.

The silence grew, and Waylander made no attempt to disturb it.

'Last night was most unfortunate,' said Aric at last. 'The two boys were well liked and neither of them had ever been in any kind of trouble.'

Waylander waited.

'Parellis – the blond boy – is … was a second cousin to the Duke. In fact, I understand that the Duke had agreed to stand alongside Parellis at his wedding. It is one of the reasons the Duke decided to bring the Winter Court to Carlis. You see the complications that are beginning to arise.'