and the Black Road. And we--you most of all, Taim--could hardly expect a warm welcome from Aewult, in any case."
"It's true Haig has no need of our few swords," Taim acknowledged. "Gryvan must wake to the danger now. Once he rouses himself and his people from sloth, the Black Road's ascendancy will be at an end, Aeglyss or no Aeglyss. But we--you--still need to survive long enough to see that day. I'd not choose Ive to make a stand, if that's..."
Erval, the leader of Ive's Guard, came hurrying down between the lines of tables. He stumbled over a sword someone had rested against a bench, but rushed on regardless. He was red-faced, plainly agitated. Heads turned to follow his progress. He came to a rather disorderly halt behind Orisian and dipped into a hasty bow.
"There are messengers come in search of you, sire. I've got them waiting in the courtyard."
"Who sent them?" Orisian asked.
The Guard Captain looked apologetic. "Aewult nan Haig, sire. They claim his authority, and through him that of his father, for the message they bear."
"Let them freeze the rest of the day in the yard, then," Torcaill muttered.
"I think they may have left their patience behind when they set out on their journey," said Erval.
Orisian sighed and swung a leg out over the bench.
"There's no point in delaying," he said as he rose.
"It might be best," Erval agreed, relief plain in his voice. "There's a fierce mood in the town, and word's already spreading that there're Haig men here. You know how that will taste to people. The sooner they've said their piece and gone, the better."
Torcaill and Taim were getting to their feet to follow Orisian.
"Not you, Taim," he said.
The warrior frowned.
Orisian smiled at him. "You're an escaped prisoner, aren't you? A fugitive from Aewult's version of justice?"
Taim sank heavily back onto the bench.
"I don't want any trouble if I can avoid it," said Orisian. "No more than we've already got, anyway."
"Take a few of the other men, at least," Taim said. "Let them think you've got some swords at your back. And remember they have your sister."
"That's not something I'm likely to forget."
Torcaill quickly assembled a little escort party, and Erval led them all out of the hall. The place was silent as they left.
The wide courtyard was dusted with snow. Most of it had been swept up by the overnight wind, and packed into corners and crevices. There was no wind now, but it was bitterly cold. As Orisian and the others emerged onto the cobblestones, the nearest of the messengers was clapping his gloved hands together to warm them.
The Haig Bloodheir had sent ten men. Six of them were warriors, standing back and watching over the party's horses. The other four were less martially attired, clad in fur capes, wearing gauntlets of what looked like velvet rather than leather. The one who stepped forward to greet Orisian had a gold clasp holding his cloak around his neck.
The man bowed more deeply and respectfully than Orisian might have expected from one of Aewult's household. Any appearance of respect was quickly dispelled once that formal gesture had been completed, however.
"This man," the messenger said with a jab of his chin in Erval's direction, "seems to think our business is best conducted out here in the cold. Perhaps you could prevail upon him to change his mind, Thane?"
And in that one instant Orisian was vividly transported back to Kolkyre, to the entirely uncomfortable company of Aewult and Gryvan's Chancellor Mordyn Jerain. Evidently disdain and casual self-importance were traits shared by all ranks within the Haig Blood. Back in Kolkyre, he had been somewhat cowed by it. Now, his mood merely soured, and his headache asserted itself.
"I imagine the Captain anticipated your desire to be back on the road south as quickly as possible," he said. "You seem to know my name, so perhaps you could allow me the same privilege."
The messenger stood a good head taller than Orisian, but the reprimand
"It's true Haig has no need of our few swords," Taim acknowledged. "Gryvan must wake to the danger now. Once he rouses himself and his people from sloth, the Black Road's ascendancy will be at an end, Aeglyss or no Aeglyss. But we--you--still need to survive long enough to see that day. I'd not choose Ive to make a stand, if that's..."
Erval, the leader of Ive's Guard, came hurrying down between the lines of tables. He stumbled over a sword someone had rested against a bench, but rushed on regardless. He was red-faced, plainly agitated. Heads turned to follow his progress. He came to a rather disorderly halt behind Orisian and dipped into a hasty bow.
"There are messengers come in search of you, sire. I've got them waiting in the courtyard."
"Who sent them?" Orisian asked.
The Guard Captain looked apologetic. "Aewult nan Haig, sire. They claim his authority, and through him that of his father, for the message they bear."
"Let them freeze the rest of the day in the yard, then," Torcaill muttered.
"I think they may have left their patience behind when they set out on their journey," said Erval.
Orisian sighed and swung a leg out over the bench.
"There's no point in delaying," he said as he rose.
"It might be best," Erval agreed, relief plain in his voice. "There's a fierce mood in the town, and word's already spreading that there're Haig men here. You know how that will taste to people. The sooner they've said their piece and gone, the better."
Torcaill and Taim were getting to their feet to follow Orisian.
"Not you, Taim," he said.
The warrior frowned.
Orisian smiled at him. "You're an escaped prisoner, aren't you? A fugitive from Aewult's version of justice?"
Taim sank heavily back onto the bench.
"I don't want any trouble if I can avoid it," said Orisian. "No more than we've already got, anyway."
"Take a few of the other men, at least," Taim said. "Let them think you've got some swords at your back. And remember they have your sister."
"That's not something I'm likely to forget."
Torcaill quickly assembled a little escort party, and Erval led them all out of the hall. The place was silent as they left.
The wide courtyard was dusted with snow. Most of it had been swept up by the overnight wind, and packed into corners and crevices. There was no wind now, but it was bitterly cold. As Orisian and the others emerged onto the cobblestones, the nearest of the messengers was clapping his gloved hands together to warm them.
The Haig Bloodheir had sent ten men. Six of them were warriors, standing back and watching over the party's horses. The other four were less martially attired, clad in fur capes, wearing gauntlets of what looked like velvet rather than leather. The one who stepped forward to greet Orisian had a gold clasp holding his cloak around his neck.
The man bowed more deeply and respectfully than Orisian might have expected from one of Aewult's household. Any appearance of respect was quickly dispelled once that formal gesture had been completed, however.
"This man," the messenger said with a jab of his chin in Erval's direction, "seems to think our business is best conducted out here in the cold. Perhaps you could prevail upon him to change his mind, Thane?"
And in that one instant Orisian was vividly transported back to Kolkyre, to the entirely uncomfortable company of Aewult and Gryvan's Chancellor Mordyn Jerain. Evidently disdain and casual self-importance were traits shared by all ranks within the Haig Blood. Back in Kolkyre, he had been somewhat cowed by it. Now, his mood merely soured, and his headache asserted itself.
"I imagine the Captain anticipated your desire to be back on the road south as quickly as possible," he said. "You seem to know my name, so perhaps you could allow me the same privilege."
The messenger stood a good head taller than Orisian, but the reprimand
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