He'd snarled at Tila for the crime of asking what was wrong, then found himself unable to say sorry – what started as an apology sent her away in tears, Vesna following swiftly behind, his expression thunderous. Only the forlorn look on Major Jachen's face had spurred him to fix things.

The sound of shuffling feet pierced the miasma of thoughts: some' one shifting in the shadows, just below his own vantage point on a stone walkway that had probably once been part of the old city wail. Isak's hand went to his side and he wrapped his fingers around the unfamiliar handle of the mace he now carried. Eolis was wrapped in a bundle of cloth and tied securely to his back; they couldn't risk it being recognised and the sort of mercenary Isak was pretending to be wouldn't own such a fine weapon.

He eased himself forward and leaned out over the edge of the wall. There was a tense silence in the area tonight. Unless it was just a product of Isak's own anticipation, the locals appeared to be aware that something was going to happen. Whoever was standing below him was the only person Isak had seen all night, other than his own soldiers and the two Brotherhood men who'd told him of King Emin's plans.

He edged his way out, ready to leap back and strike, when he saw it was just a young man standing there alone. Strangely, he appeared to be looking at the same crumbling old house Isak was. What part do you have to play in this? Isak wondered. Are you working for Emin? If not, what in the name of the Dark Place are you doing watching that house?

Doranei and his companion, introduced as Sebe, had told him the king had personal business with one of the men seen entering that house. Isak had joked at the time that he was attracting trouble again -after all, he'd been in the city but a few hours when he saw Doranei, hurrying back to his master with the news – but neither Brother had even smiled, and that spoke volumes. Doranei and Isak had spent more than a week together; Isak considered him a friend. But that afternoon he had been too preoccupied for anything but business, and their sharing of news had been brief, and it had ended almost as soon as Ilumene had been mentioned.

Isak studied the boy leaning against the wall: young, skinny, aver¬age height for a youth of fifteen-odd summers. No weapons.

'A strange night to be taking the air,' Isak said softly. The boy spun around in alarm, for a moment not seeing Isak's face and then gasping when he did. 'Getting a moment's peace away from your family?' Isak's command of the language was not perfect, but it was good enough to be understood.

'No sir,' came the sullen reply. Sir, Isak thought with interest, an odd way for a local to speak to a foreigner unless I look older than I think I do.

'Then what are you doing? It's a bad night to be out.'

'Every night is a bad night in Scree,' the youth said, 'but I think I'm safe on the streets around here. Safer than you, anyway.'

Isak gave a grin. 'Really? I'd heard this was one of the worst districts for criminals.'

'They're just poor round here, not criminal – unless you think being poor is a crime.' The youth gave him a defiant look. 'But there are criminals out tonight, and they're the ones I'm waiting for. They don't much like white-eyes, so if I were you I'd go somewhere else.'

Isak thought for a moment. The youth had definitely been watch¬ing the house, but as far as Isak could tell, it was a derelict building – certainly nothing to interest normal criminals.

'What's your name?'

'What's yours?' the youth snapped.

'My name? Ah, Horman,' Isak replied. Now why did I say that? That's not the name I'd agreed with Vesna. What made me think of my father?

'Fine, if you say so. I'm Mayel.'

Isak reached out a hand. 'Well, Mayel, how about you come up here and tell me all about these criminals.' Mayel took a half-pace back as Isak's massive arm loomed forward. 'Come on; share a pipe with me.'

The promise of tobacco seemed to clinch it for the young man, who took a step forward and grasped Isak's hand. The white-eye hauled Mayel up without effort and deposited him on the walkway.

'Gods, you're a big bastard,' Mayel exclaimed when he saw Isak straighten up.

'Easy there, you were calling me "sir" a moment ago.'

'Sorry, bad habit,' Mayel apologised, not mentioning which was the bad habit. 'Just hadn't expected it; you're bigger than any white-eye I've ever seen.'

Isak ignored the point. 'What's that accent I can hear? Are you a local? It sounds like you've been educated, but you're hardly dressed like a merchant's son.'

Mayel plucked at the ragged clothes he had on. 'I was a novice at a monastery, I got some learning there. What's it to you?'

'Just working out who I'm dealing with,' Isak replied breezily. 'Always best to find out beforehand. Here, help yourself.' He offered his pipe and tobacco pouch and Mayel took them with delight.

'So what are you doing out here?' Mayel asked once he'd filled the pipe and lit it. 'Have you enlisted with Mistress Ostia's army?'

'No, we're escorting someone, some lord's mistress.' Tila had in¬sisted on accompanying them and Isak hadn't been able to dissuade her. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of forbidding it outright, so in the end, he'd agreed that the White Circle would likely not harm a woman, and accepted her suggestion that she play the lordly whore being escorted by mercenaries in these troubled times.

'One of those White Circle bitches?'

'Probably,' Isak grinned. 'You should be careful what you say about them in strange company though.'

'Ah, you're not tied to them. I hear the only white-eyes the Circle have are ones they trot around on leashes. They don't speak or piss without permission from their mistress.'

That drove the smile from Isak's face. He'd come close to becom¬ing little more than a pet of the Queen of the Fysthrall. Wondering how his life would have turned out if she'd succeeded was a sobering thought. As far as they could tell, he'd have been made to march his armies all the way to Tir Duria and lay siege to that fortress city, costing tens of thousands of lives. It would probably have been the ruin of the Farlan nation in the process.

'So who does your mistress belong to? Someone powerful?' Mayel asked, enjoying the pipe enough to not have noticed Isak's changed mood.

'Don't know. Why do you ask?'

Mayel suddenly looked apprehensive. 'I've been away for a few years,' he said, hunching his shoulder. 'I'm still working out who the people with power are.'

'I don't think he's anyone very powerful, just a man who's very fond of his pretty mistress.' Isak pictured Count Vesna and almost smiled again. The man had looked constantly anxious since they had met up again on the border. He and his band of soldiers were bloodied and grim, drained by the weeks fighting Duke Vrerr's cause. The reunion had been muted, and since then Vesna had rarely left Tila's side.

Isak gestured towards the unlit house. 'So why don't you tell me why your criminal friends are interested in that house?'

'Why should I? What are you doing here?'

'Watching out for a friend. He has business with someone in that house.'

Mayel frowned. 'What sort of business?'

'A personal dispute.'

'And you're just sitting here watching?'

'It's personal,' Isak replied gravely. 'If he wanted my help he would

ask, but he won't need it.'

'He will once my cousin's men arrive,' Mayel blurted out. 'They've also got business there, and you don't want to get in their way.'

Isak cocked his head to one side. 'Now what sort of business could they have with that house?'

'People have been disappearing in the city; we hear it's got some¬thing to do with the man who lives in that house. My cousin runs this district and he doesn't like madmen preying on his people; he's going to have a look around that house and see what's there.'