'As have I,' nodded Caid.

'Whereas so many of my books argue otherwise.' Safar shook his head with a fine show of regret. 'Purification is a chancy business at best. Those who go to fight may well find themselves exiled from their own islands.'

'It's a debate with cogent argument on either side.' As Redigal Coron spoke, his slave leant forward with some whispered contribution.

'All the more reason not to run the risk, until my own waters are threatened,' sighed Safar.

'You think your people will thank you for dallying with philosophical questions until they wake up with magic besieging them?' retorted Caid.

You think I'll believe you'll be studying your annals and all those fine tomes of argument and observation, when you're all but illiterate and, worse yet, you see no shame in it, you greasy, sweating hog, no disgrace in substituting brutality for wisdom in order to rule this vast domain?

Kheda studied Safar's cunning face. Beneath the bearded jowls, he saw the other man's jaw was resolute, dislike of Kheda shining in his pale eyes.

I could sit here and talk until the sun has set and both moons come and gone and you will never agree to fight these unknown invaders. I could bring Itrac here and make her relive every terrified breath of her ordeal and all that would do would titillate your taste for women in distress. Telouet's told me how you like bruises on your concubines. You'll lurk here in this great fortress like some toad beneath a rock and watch every domain to your south fall to these foul magicians; happy to see your rivals fall even to such a foe. You'll only fight when magic threatens the Ulla domain, you fool.

Then a horrible suspicion chilled Kheda's spine.

Or will you fight? Or if you find out whatever it is these evil invaders seek, will you look to trade it for peace across your domain? You won't care if every other island in the southern seas is corrupted with magic, as long as your own fiefdom stays untouched to pander to your repellent whims.

Kheda studied the myriad sprawling tendrils of green vines and darker leaves that coiled across the ruddy silk nap of the carpet, blue logen blooms dotted seemingly haphazardly with white trumpet flowers and tangles of yellow firecreeper.

'A carpet can look like nothing more than a muddle of motifs that caught the weaver's fancy as he worked his way up the loom. You never see a weaver copying a pattern, after all, and you can't see any decoration used the same way twice within arm's reach of where you're sitting, can you? Stand back, my son, and separate the essentials, follow each different element. Then you'll see the patterns hidden from the untutored eye by those that overlay them.'

Kheda looked away down the fine lattice of dark vines worked aslant over the whole carpet, trumpet flowers and firecreeper weaving their own design through empty spaces.

He looked at Safar and then Redigal Coron. 'There is another course of action we could consider.'

'Let's hear it!' Ritsem Caid's desperation betrayed his own realisation that Ulla Safar wasn't going to shift his ground.

'Even after seeing these monsters, we know nothing of magic beyond the evil it brings in its train.' Kheda swallowed on a dry mouth. 'As you say, we have seen no wizards in these reaches for time out of mind. There are domains in the northern islands that have not been so fortunate. We've all heard of barbarian raids to steal spice bushes and slaves, to plunder merchant galleys plying between domains.'

'That's nothing to us.' Safar made to rise but his own gross weight and the treacherous silk of the cushions betrayed him. Unwilling to lose his dignity in further struggle, he subsided, cruel eyes all but disappearing in a scowl.

'My father told me that, in days gone by, the wizard-plagued domains closest to the unbroken lands would pander to barbarian lusts for gem stones, paying for peace instead of shedding Archipelagan blood, until they could drive off those invaders made bold by magic' Kheda was heartened to see Caid caught by this unexpected notion. The slave behind Coron was watching him intently too. 'Could we not ask those northern warlords to share what they learned of driving off wizardry, of forestalling the stain of magic on their lands?'

'That would truly be a desperate step,' said Caid with distaste.

'Aren't these desperate times?' countered Kheda.

Redigal Coron nodded slowly, face sombre, as the white-haired slave knelt forward with some whispered comment. 'Might we not find ourselves caught between fire and flood, though, if these northern warlords thought lending such aid gave them a claim on our lands?'

'I would never consider such a course. Their spies would search out every seaway, every island's wealth and resources. You might as well cut your son's throat and offer up your daughter, her ankles tied wide to her bedposts!' Safar's outrage echoed loud in the great hall but none of the other warlords were looking at him.

'How would any lord from the furthest north launch an attack, with the whole Archipelago between us?' Kheda looked at Coron. 'Besides, I believe they would settle for us halting this tide of evil. Under constant threat of wizards from the unbroken lands, I doubt they'd relish some magical assault from the south.'

'My father told me that the northern lords drove out the barbarian wizards by hiring sorcerers of their own,' hissed Safar venomously.

'I have read that they managed to set the wizards fighting among themselves,' Coron said unexpectedly.

'Fighting fire with fire?' Kheda mused. 'We've all done that.'

'Which would make the Chazen domain our firebreak,' said Caid grimly.

'The land is already tainted with magic,' Coron acknowledged.

'Then go and raise a real fire,' snapped Safar. 'Burn every island and reef to bare earth and blackened stumps and leave the invaders' bones lying splintered among them.'

'You don't suppose these wild men and their wizards might oppose such an attack?' Caid's sarcasm was withering.

'What do you suppose the northern lords would ask from us in return for their lore?' Coron looked uncertainly from Kheda to Caid.

'Steel, most certainly' Safar shot a pointed look at Ritsem Caid. 'All that we could spare and more besides, I don't doubt.'

'Let us—' A resounding knock interrupted Kheda.

He narrowed his eyes at Safar, who didn't bother to hide his smugness. 'Enter.'

It was the fawning, smooth-faced lackey. 'My lady Mirrel sends her compliments and asks that you grace her reception with your presence.'

What signal summoned you, seen through some hidden spy hole, as soon as Safar saw control of this debate slipping out of his grasp?

Kheda risked a knowing glance at Caid but the Ritsem warlord didn't notice, face stony, eyes inward-looking. Redigal Coron was seizing the opportunity to confer hurriedly with his attendant slave. Ulla Safar's body slave had the unenviable task of hauling his master to his feet.

'We will not disappoint my lady Mirrel.' The fat man heaved a sigh and wiped sweat from his forehead. 'We would all do better to think on these matters before we talk again.' He strode from the room, scowling ferociously.

'My lord.' On his feet the instant etiquette allowed, Telouet stood before Kheda and offered a hand.

Kheda waved his help away, raising an enquiring eyebrow. With the minimum of expression, Telouet managed to convey the equivalent of a shrug.

So you have no more idea than me how much progress we may have made.

Ritsem Caid's expression gave nothing away and his slave Ganil's face might have been carved out of the same ironwood as the pillars as the two of them stalked out. Redigal Coron was still talking to his softly spoken zamorin, bodyguard hovering uncertainly. Kheda saw the door wards listening with blatant curiosity.