“The man speaking with you earlier – he is Lord Marsk Torloy. His idea it was to use the words of the captain and the market-man against you, if you refused my command. He did not seem to understand, even when I explained there would be no command – only request. You would not be held against your will. I am glad the sergeant seems to have understood.”

I nodded, not looking at the king, just staring out at the ocean. “That man needs a promotion, I think.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps.” I could tell Deymar was smiling again. “So, you enjoy my view, Mundian?”

It was a little later. The twins were off exploring the caves beneath the High Hall with the other household children, invisible shields firmly secured of course. I was atop the Telior cliffs with their owner, looking down on the wooden warren sprawled about the semi-circle of the bay – looking out on the surf and storms of Northril. There were no walls about us, no roof above our heads now where we stood on the bare shelf of stone. The singing sea wind whipped his fur cloaks, tugged at his massive beard, but it barely even rippled my robe as I languished in the half-state.

“It could be your view too.”

“What, you’re planning on giving me your clifftop?”

The king chuckled. “I could make sure you have a… prime location, you know?”

I turned to look at him finally. The glacial eyes beneath the thick black brows were shockingly warm – and tired, oh so tired. These were not the eyes of some brutish conqueror or cruel highborn ruler. It was the weary gaze of a man beset with obstacles, problems contrived by forces beyond his control.

Behind him was the fortification that protected Telior from overland attack – a natural barrier I’d been unable to see from down in the water.

Frozen swamps, stretching off into the horizon.

“You went to Mund?” I asked. “You mentioned it, in the throne room. Your Mundic’s very good, you know?”

“Thank you.” He bowed his head at the compliment, and I raised my eyebrow in renewed surprise at his approachability. “I visited, as a young man. Five years, I lived in your city. Do you know the Gull’s Down?”

I shook my head.

“In Overbrent? I lived next door to it.”

“I know Overbrent.” I helped save a decent chunk of Overbrent from destruction… “But I don’t think I’ve heard of the tavern itself, sorry.”

“My father sent me.” For the first time, the king’s rumbling voice had a dark cast to it. “I was to study, and learn of the world, and improve our trade relations.” He almost growled the last two words, and I saw he was clenching his fist. “I do not mean to offend you, Raz, but the masters of Mund are no friendly folk. They do not like the outsider. They have much, but share little.”

“You aren’t going to offend me with that,” I replied. “If anything, I’m sure I hate them more than you.”

“So you are running away?”

I said nothing.

“Mund’s loss is my gain.” He gestured down at the city below us. “Look at Telior, Raz. Tell me what you see.”

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I chewed my lip a moment. “Success, Majesty. It’s a dangerous world out there. You, your forefathers – you’ve made this work. It’s a testament to your perseverance.”

He was shaking his head. “You are too kind. This city, it is regressing. The dangerous world is inside already, I fear. The people leave, they do not come back. Ever since the Black Winter – the population, it ages and there are less young men to do the work of the old. My son will inherit a black rock, empty of life.” His eyes pierced me. “You can help me change that.”

“I keep hearing about this Black Winter… What am I missing?”

His eyes went distant, just for a moment, and his hands clenched into fists. “The dark elves. They have tolerated us for centuries – when they came, we gave with both hands. There was no shame in it, as we saw it. But, fourteen years ago – the fish were diseased, and the druids could do nothing, nothing to save the harvest. We were broken. We barely survived. And then… then they came.

“They took my people as tribute. Not just menfolk. Women. Starving children.”

There was no mistaking the anguish in his voice.

“So, that’s what you really want me for.”

Fighting off dark elves… I clenched my own fist. I’d probably have to be a bit less… next time, but it was hard, hearing what they’d done to the Telese. At least I had some experience navigating the innards of the slavers’ bone-ships now. Perhaps next time I could just go straight to the helm, eliminate the elven officers…

But he surprised me – by the sound of things, he didn’t want me for war.

“No, please, Raz. It is our… structure. How do you say it? In-fra-structure?”

I raised an eyebrow again and nodded.

“We have but few sorcerers in Telior,” he went on. “The summoning of what you call demons and fey, it is outlawed in my kingdom. Things have always been that way. The raising of the dead – this is only done under the strictest supervision, and those with the skill are shunned out of fear. The Night Order, they are called – you would call it a guild, I think?”

I was still nodding.

“Given the… taboo of such dark magery, only those who have some… talent or interest decide to pursue it. This in itself makes them suspect, you see? And so many of our young magicians who decide to go, for training in your city, they do not return, preferring to remain under the whips of their new masters. As you surely imagine, we have a problem in Telior. You have seen the old globes, in the Hall below us? We have no craft now to replace them, or even repair them. Emberwood will not grow in our lands, and so the price –”

“So you want me to fix your lights,” I interrupted.

“I want you to help me fix our kingdom,” he said. “Make it a place our young people want to live in again. Bring it closer to your Mund.”

I returned my focus to the sea, and he wisely quietened down, letting me mull it over.

I had to admit, the idea held appeal to me. I would’ve enjoyed living here, I suspected. Especially with the ear of such a cool-tempered monarch, an easy route to making money that didn’t involve facing demon-lords and arch-liches… helping people without having to wade in blood… making a difference with my powers, cleanly…

But ‘bring it closer to Mund’?

“You’re putting an awful lot of trust in a stranger.”

“The wrong kind of stranger wouldn’t still be here on this rock, thinking about it.”

I smiled at Deymar. “I wish it were so simple, but the real hurdle is my sister. She doesn’t like it here.”

His response was a grin. “Oh, really? Do you recall I mentioned a seer?”

I nodded, frowning.

“Come below.” He stepped towards the door in the rock that would lead us back to the stairwell, and banged his fist on it – a guard opened it from inside instantly. “There is a reason I sent your brother and sister off to explore.”

We traversed the smoothly-hewn corridors, plunging through the flickering candlelight that King Deymar wanted me to replace with cool wizard-radiance. The king’s guards went before us and behind us, two pairs of fierce-faced warriors. Soon, one of those guards opened a door onto a shadowed, cavernous expanse – at the bottom of a rocky incline, I could see the shapes of seven or eight children, half of them clutching torches as they splashed in a puddle.

We entered, and Jaroan came clambering up over the wet boulders towards me.

“Raz!” he whispered intensely as he reached my side. “It’s perfect! It’s just perfect.”

I looked into his face in the dancing illumination of the flames; there was none of the anger or frustration I’d become accustomed to seeing. That worried me.

“What? What is it?”

My brother smiled wickedly. “Shirya’s fallen in love.”

* * *