Another lost minute. His mind began to conjure up all sorts of horrors which could have beset Kristabel. He knew she'd set off from the Culverit mansion, tradition at least allowed him that much. The same tradition which stated the bride was only allowed to change her mind between her home and the church.

But Kristabel wouldn't do that to him. So she could have been assassinated, or kidnapped, or the gondola capsized. Because Kristabel wouldn't abandon him.

So where in Honions is she?

Edeard started to cheat, using the city's senses to examine the church. Not farsight. So no breach of tradition. Damn, I even think like a lawyer now. Just about every Grand Family in Makkathran was represented. Notable exceptions were Mistress Florrel who had announced a headache an hour before the service was due to begin and gave her apologies for non-attendance. The Gilmorns were also absent, as were the Norrets, who counted Lieutenant Eustace among their number. Captain Larose, however, was there, and looked most amused by the Waterwalker's discomfort. Grand Master Owain was in the pews reserved for Guild dignitaries. Losing the election didn't seem to have affected him at all, he retained his slightly cool persona throughout every encounter. Macsen and Kanseen were almost invisible amid the District Masters, their colourful robes blending in flawlessly. Kanseen wasn't showing yet, though of late she'd started making some very barbed comments about which would arrive first, the mansion or the baby. The section reserved for the groom's family was unusually small, Kristabel had appropriated several of his pews for her own family and friends. But Edeard thought he was well supported with a dozen constables and Bijulee and Dybal and Setersis and Isoix and Topar and others he'd met during his time in the city, headed up by Mayor Finitan himself. His one true regret was Salrana who had sent a polite note of regret claiming her duties wouldn't allow her to attend. She was the closest thing he had to family, but since the day of banishment they'd been completely estranged. Every attempt he'd made to be reconciled had been rebuffed. He knew she was still at the church in Ysidro, devoutly fulfilling her duties. The few times he'd longsighted her, he'd been saddened by the way the joy seemed to have gone from her life. She'd aged inexplicably, becoming withdrawn and sombre. This was a cooler more resolute Salrana.

He regretted his snatched glimpses, and quickly desisted. To his dismay he had to admit that she had changed, as he had. The Salrana and Edeard who lived in Ashwell were gone for ever now.

The sound of cheering seeped into the church, and Edeard's heart started to beat faster. Their marriage wasn't an official holiday, though there'd been a big crowd outside the church when he and Dinlay arrived.

Finally! The band curtailed their wretched tune. He heard the rustle of cloth as the Novice quire rose to their feet. Then the light changed perceptibly as the big doors swung open. Dinlay stepped up beside him, smiling wide. 'Too late to back out now, he murmured to Edeard.

Any scathing reply was lost as the organist began the wedding march. Edeard had never heard the giant keyboards being played before, the sound was overwhelming. Then the Novices began their accompanying melody. He was impossibly terrified and elated at the same time.

Julan appeared beside him, his pride shining with the power of a dawn sun. And she was there at his side. Edeard nearly let out a whimper of relief. Mirnatha giggled at his expression; the little girl was wearing a pink and white dress that transformed her into some enchantingly sweet fairy creature, an image only spoilt when she grinned her devilsome grin.

Kristabel's wedding gown was a gold-cream drosilk creation with royal-blue trimming that twinkled with emerald gemflowers, its train seemed to stretch back halfway down the aisle. He saw her head turn inside the veil, her eyes shining through the lace. Then the Pythia was standing in front of them, her smile gentle and commanding. The organist ended his thunderous anthem.

'Welcome to you all on this happiest of days, the Pythia said to the congregation.

Julan and Kristabel lifted the veil from her face. Her hair flowed out like ripples of gold silk. Edeard couldn't believe anyone so perfect was facing him at his own wedding ceremony, this surely must be some dazed fantasy from his last night in Ashwell, a moment of blissful delusion after the bullets struck and before death.

Kristabel took both his hands in hers, and squeezed reassuringly. 'Been waiting long? she teased.

'My whole life, he told her truthfully.

They honeymooned at the Culverit family's muroak lodge on the coast, spending half a month there by themselves. Twenty days of delight.

A lot more staff accompanied them this time, providing them with excellent meals and unobtrusive service. The end of summer was approaching, but it was still hot. Humid air above the cove barely moved the whole time they were there. As before, they took lazy walks along the coast; swam in warm water and sunned themselves on the beach until both of them had tanned a deep honey-brown. Edeard tried his hand at fishing, but lacked the patience. Both of them learned to sail in a small yacht that was a wedding gift from Charyau. They even managed a couple of trips sailing to nearby fishing villages in thankfully calm waters.

'I think it will be some time before we venture that circumnavigation I mentioned, Edeard admitted the evening after their first big voyage two miles along the shore.

On the other side of the table, Kristabel laughed agreement, backdropped by a golden blaze of the setting sun. Both of them were determined from the outset to have the time for themselves. They avoided talking about city life and its politics. Too much of the last four months had been spent establishing Finitan as the Mayor, persuading the old guard to adopt his consolidation policies, strengthening the judiciary and reinforcing the determination and effectiveness of the constables. It seemed to be working. Everyone reported good business. With the shadow of fear and uncertainty lifted, people were spending with confidence again.

Finitan's first few months were already judged a success. In Makkathran. Out in the provinces, things were not so agreeable. The news Topar had brought back at the start of the year was becoming common knowledge. Even his ominous predictions now seemed optimistic. Bandits so long confined to the westernmost provinces were making long inroads to the east. Back in the springtime, Rulan province faced a huge ongoing exodus as raids became a weekly occurrence. Then Worfolk province reported caravans being ambushed on previously safe highways. The numerous mountains of the interior were ideal refuges for the roaming bands to strike at villages and towns. After a raid they would ride into the tricky inhospitable terrain and vanish from the sheriffs and militiamen sent to hunt them.

What worried Edeard most was the long distance these episodes occurred at. Makkathran only ever got to hear of a bandit incident months after it actually happened. They had no idea what was currently going on beyond the Iguru Plain, how close the raiders were venturing to the city.

A mere two months after the election, the first refugees from the Ulfsen Mountains had trickled into Makkathran, whispering about strange, powerful guns. Guns that could defeat an entire cavalry platoon. Official casualties from the militia regiments Owain had dispatched to help the governors began to rise. People started to notice the number of lavish memorial services which Grand Families threw for the officers increased sharply. Nobody blamed Finitan, but he was starting to face questions about what he intended to do about the worsening circumstances out beyond the Iguru Plain.