Now this. They were finally to become lovers in the truest sense.

When he eventually got back to his maisonette and lay on the bed there were only a few hours until dawn when he was supposed to lead a patrol through Jeavons and round Tycho.

Rather than sleeping as he should, his mind was a whirl with how to rearrange duty periods so he could spend next week away. That and how she'd felt pressed against him in the gondola. Her smile. The promise. It would be difficult for the squad to cover for him; though he no longer cared. Makkathran could fall into oblivion now. He and Kristabel were to be lovers. It was hard to believe; he'd never been so happy before.

In one respect, Kristabel and Ranalee were very similar; their notion of 'just us' was one which could only ever apply to a daughter from a Grand Family. Admittedly, Kristabel only brought three of her personal staff, not five, but the wagon which accompanied their carriage was heavily laden with luggage cases and hampers of food. And of course there was the team of coachmen, and the wagon drivers, each with their own apprentices. In addition there were the ge-wolf handlers which Homelt had assigned to them for the road.

He wouldn't have minded that so much if they'd simply been able to go. But first there were all her (rather too giggly, he felt) girl friends they simply had to say goodbye to as they left the Culverit mansion. Poor Mirnatha was distraught that her sister and the Waterwalker were leaving her behind, acting as if the separation was for ever — so she had to be promised presents and treats on their return. He also had to shake hands with her father and swear no harm would befall his precious daughter; and that was while Lorin was watching impassively from a balcony above.

Edeard had arrived at the mansion with his one bag shortly after breakfast. The coach didn't pull out of the family stables in Tycho until just before midday. Kristabel sat straight-backed on the cushioned bench opposite him, her hair woven into a broad beret with little corkscrew curls dangling down. Simply sitting quietly she carried herself with the kind of imperious nature that Ranalee forever sought yet would never be able to achieve.

'You were impatient, she said loftily. 'I had to rush my leave-taking, it was almost rude. Was there some reason you wished to hurry?

He just managed to maintain his composure. 'No, Mistress.

'Really? I will enjoy testing the limit of your anticipation this evening.

'Even your cruelty is a joy, Mistress.

Kristabel managed to keep a straight face for another few seconds, then she was laughing wildly. 'Oh Lady, I thought they were never going to let us get away! She launched herself at him, and they spent the rest of the journey cuddled together.

The south road out of the city was as well maintained as all the roads across the Iguru. Twice they passed militia patrols, which had recently been increased to compensate for the growing numbers of highwaymen waylaying travellers. Edeard suspected such incidents were due to the way his own exclusion campaign was squeezing the gangs out of city districts. A number of those named in the warrants had simply left. Apart from that, their trip along the coastal route was without incident. The tall palms lining the road had survived the winter, and were now shedding their scarlet fronds to make way for the new season's emerald growth. Fields on either side were being readied for the summer crops, with large teams of ge-monkeys preparing the vines and citrus groves and fruit gardens, while ge-horses pulled heavy ploughs. This time of year always cheered Edeard up, reminding him of more carefree times during his childhood. Everyone's mood improved with the onset of spring.

He hadn't known what to expect when they reached the beach lodge. Best guess was a pavilion like the one Ranalee's family owned. He only started to suspect something different when Kristabel opened the carriage windows, and watched him with mischievous intent. They were no longer riding through fields. The land outside had transformed to gritty hummocks smothered by long reedy grass with shrivelled wind-bowed trees huddled in the lees. Ahead of them the track wound down into a modest cove, with promontories of dark rock. A small stream gurgled alongside. Then he saw it, standing back from the white beach, just behind the crumbling sandy bluff.

'Oh my Lady, he gasped in delight. Kristabel squeezed his hand in shared glee. 'I always loved this place, she sighed wistfully.

The lodge was a half-living sculpture. Five ancient muroaks had been planted in a circle, then pruned and guided for decades. Their first boughs were three yards above the ground, woven into a platform and reinforced with sturdy planks to form a level floor. But it was the wall which fascinated Edeard. Above the floor, the trunks had been allowed to fork, then fork again. As they'd done so, master gardeners had trained them into tall arches, before bending them back towards the apex when they'd all been twisted together into a final whorl of bark and branches that opened out to shade the lodge from the summer sun. It would need that shade, he realized, for the wall arches were filled with glass. A slender open deck encircled the entire lodge.

The coach stopped outside, and Kristabel led Edeard up the curving wooden stairs to the door where the lodge keeper was waiting for them. The old man bowed deeply, welcoming Kristabel as if she were his own family.

Edeard examined the wall's thick archway pillars, marvelling at the buds of green leaves that were starting to open amid the wrinkles of grey bark, seeing how the stubby twigs were meticulously pruned every autumn. In another month, the entire lodge would appear to be lead-framed panes of glass supported by lines of verdant leaves.

'It's astonishing, he said. 'I didn't know people could create something like this. He couldn't imagine anything like it in Ashwell, nor any of the towns he'd passed through on his way to the city.

'Two hundred and eighty years in the growing, the lodge keeper said proudly. 'It was my great-grandfather who originally planted the trees. Our family have tended them for the Culverits ever since; and my son will take over when I pass on.

'Two hundred and eighty years to grow, Edeard repeated, impressed.

'Makkathran makes us lazy, Kristabel said. 'It provides us with so much. We can get things right by ourselves.

Inside, the lodge was divided up into seven rooms by ancient wooden panelling. The central room, under the knot of trunks, was the bedroom, with a big circular bed in the middle. An ingenious array of pulleys and twine allowed slatted blinds to be opened or closed against the overhead windows. A thick slab of stone in the living room acted as a hearth for a tall brazier. It already had a fire crackling away, its smoke slithering up through an iron chimney cone.

Edeard and Kristabel sat on the long settee, staring out at the sea a couple of hundred yards away. He wished it was slightly later in the year, when it would be warm enough to swim. A big twin-masted trading ship sailed slowly past, en route to the ports in the south. The servants and ge-monkeys bustled round, setting out their luggage while the lodge keeper lit the iron stove in the kitchen to boil some tea. Kristabel's fingers laced through Edeard's. 'Don't worry, she said dryly. 'They'll all stay in the cottages behind the bluff. Out of farsight range. I wouldn't want to shock them tonight; some have been with the family for decades.

Edeard grinned, remembering Ranalee saying more or less the same thing. He turned back to the sea.

By coincidence, the Culverit family's beach lodge was only a couple of miles south of the cove where Ivarl's body had washed up. Edeard remembered that morning quite clearly. A week after the Festival of Guidance he'd received the message from the coastal warden asking him to identify the body. He borrowed a terrestrial horse from the militia stables, and rode out through the south gate.