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Ynefel of old, himself a shadow in the life of the Tristen who had been.
    There he met Owl, companion of his early days with Mauryl, his fortress of dragons.html
    guide through Marna Wood on the road that led him to Cefwyn, and his harbinger of war at the battle of Lewen field.
    And Owl came with him when he crossed that bridge again, back to the haunted mews at heart of the Zeide. Owl was on his arm when he returned, to the distress of all around him… who knew now that they dealt with magic and that the war Tristen proposed was not only of iron and edges.
    But rather than reject that war and their magic-wielding ally, they gave thanks to have Tristen on their side and pledged their support anew.
    Owl was not the only venturer out into the world that night.
    Orien and Tarien Aswydd fled their exile as armed men descended on the defenseless nuns who sheltered them… Quinalt men, attacking a Teranthine order. Reflection of the riots in the capital, religious conflict had come to the countryside of Guelessar.
    And the outlawed Aswydds turned to the only home they knew, to Henas'amef, hoping for shelter.
    Elements once part of wizardry were participant again, rewoven into the design.
    BOOK ONE
    CHAPTER 1
    A slow procession passed by night, little disturbing the sleep of Henas'amef. Tristen on bay Petelly, two ladies on horses the lords of Ivanor had lent them, with Captain Uwen Lewen's-son and Tristen's bodyguard attending, all climbed the hill in a lazy fall of fat lumps of snow.
    That families were asleep and shutters were drawn and latched up and down the streets lent welcome anonymity to their passage… for by day the sight of the duke of Amefel riding in company with the red-haired former duchess and her sister would have alarmed the fortress of dragons.html
    town.
    As it was, their small party reached the Zeide's West Gate and dismounted with little fuss. The stableboys turned out dutifully, bleary-eyed with sleep—until they discovered their lord had brought two visitors they never wished to see again. Then young eyes grew wide, and the boys moved fearfully and quickly about their business.
    The gate-guards, who had come inward bearing torches to light the stable yard, also recognized the visitors by that light and seemed utterly confounded to know who the women were. So with the west stairs guards, who came down in their turn and stopped in their tracks.
    "Here's your own lord!" Uwen Lewen's-son said to the gawkers. 'An'
    he's gi'en refuge to these ladies, on account of some damn godless bandits has burned down the nunnery at Anwyfar. They walked here in the storm, half-dead and near frozen, which ain't their choice, nor His Grace's. Don't gawp, there, man! Help their ladyships inside! An'
    you, Edas! Run up to master Tassand an' tell him come down an' get
    'is orders! Haste about it!"
    Tristen himself was only too glad to have turned over Petelly's reins to a stableboy. Now he climbed the west stairs, taking charge of his guests.
    "Where shall we lodge?" Orien Aswydd asked him haughtily, turning and standing fast at the landing a step above him, and only a breath later did Tristen realize she was none so subtly inquiring after her former rooms. Those rooms happened to be the ducal apartment— his apartment.
    And little as he liked his lodgings, green velvet draperies and all the heraldry of the Aswydds into the bargain, he had no intention whatsoever of allowing these women that symbolic honor of place.
    The ducal apartments were not merely rooms: they were an appurtenance of high office, a place from which the duke's orders flowed to all Amefel, and no , and twice no, Orien Aswydd should not have them.
    Nor should she have any other such stately rooms, now that she made a demand of it, not a decision of spite, but rather of realization that nothing he granted her was without consequence in the view of those watching him. Her deserts were in fact the West Gate guardhouse and fortress of dragons.html
    the headsman's