'Mistress Pulfae may have some odd mannerisms, but they say she's the best healer north of the Haelling. Father was convinced of her talents so I kept her on. I advise you to trust her,' Timoth advised.

'Thanks, Timoth,' I told him, wiping the tears from my eyes. He held me for a few seconds so that I might take comfort from his warmth. A few hours had passed during which Pulfae had counselled that we should leave Alum’s room so that he might rest but I’d quickly returned, unable to be away from him while he was so hurt. Timoth stayed to keep me company.

'We should postpone the wedding,' he suggested, but at this Alum made a noise from the bed. It was an unintelligible moan, but the tone suggested dissent. I returned to his bedside and gently grasped his less-wounded hand.

'What is it, Alum?' I asked him. His mouth moved slowly and slightly, but he spoke nonetheless.

'Don't… cancel. Wedding… tomorrow…' He managed to say.

'You cannot possibly stand for a wedding,' Timoth said, but Alum closed his eyes in frustration. Strange that such a small motion could signal so much in an immobile face.

'More assassins… will come. We must wed,' Alum mumbled. Timoth and I looked at each other in horror. Was he suggesting that delaying the wedding would put his life in greater jeopardy? Or even mine? Alum took advantage of our delay in response to take a breath and continue. 'If I cannot stand… I will sit.'

'Saemara, you must postpone it. Look at him!' Timoth declared, but Alum squeezed my hand, urging me on.

‘Alum seems to think that the assassin wanted to prevent our marriage. The corollary is that postponing it will serve his master’s purposes, or at least give opportunity for further attacks,’ I said.

‘We can bar the windows and double the guard at the castle until he recovers,’ Timoth suggested. I considered the opinions of both men.

'There is one source of information which may inform our decision,' I reasoned. We must interrogate the assassin.'

'He was captured alive?' Timoth asked in surprise.

'On my orders. Come.'

Satisfied that Alum wasn’t at death’s door, I kissed his cheek and departed.

I'd never before ventured into the lowest level of the structure as Father had forbidden me from it, so Timoth took the lead down the stairwell and through the basement corridors. We went directly to the cell where the assassin was chained and found him asleep.

'Wake him,' Timoth commanded one of the guards, who retrieved a bucket of cold water and entered the cell to douse the assassin. He spluttered into consciousness, rubbing the bruises on his head where my soldiers had clubbed him. After a moment, he looked up and saw us. He sneered at me.

'You should have killed me,' he spat.

'You may yet get your wish,' Timoth replied, and he nodded meaningfully to the soldier in the cell with the assassin. The soldier threw the assassin's black cloak aside and grabbed him by the hair, standing him up and making him face us. He was still chained to the cell, preventing him from summoning a portal through which to escape.

'Why should I tell you anything?'

'I will release you if you answer our questions,' I offered him. Timoth frowned at me, but I pretended not to see it.

'Why would you do that?' he asked me, and I smiled as gracefully as my crowded mind would permit me to.

'You are a mere servant, of which there are no doubt many. Killing you will achieve little. And, judging by your failure tonight, you are among the least accomplished of your peers,' I hoped to stir him to anger before he could think too deeply about my offer. It worked.

'It was not my skill that failed tonight. The Prince is a fierce fighter! Eliminating him should have been accomplished through poison. It was my employer's haste that forced my hand and landed me here,' he said. Every word the assassin spoke was full of such venom that I had to consciously force iron through my veins to stand my ground before him.

'Why does the Vizonian Order want Prince Alum dead?' I asked him, making a mental note to have Timoth review the castle’s food-testing security procedures. Though I suspected that Milos was behind the assassination attempt, the man's Vizonian insignia had spurred memories of Milos and Highfather Ioran working together to prevent me from marring Alum back in Hollowhold. By stating the Vizonian involvement as fact rather than as a question, I hoped to make the assassin confirm my suspicions. Unfortunately, he was too canny for that.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

'What assurance do I have that you will let me live if I tell you?' he asked, and though he hadn’t answered my question I realised he was willing to talk if the right motivation was provided. He was angry at his employer for forcing him to act unprepared, and I could use that to my advantage.

'You have my word, and those who stand beside me will act as witnesses to my veracity,' I told him. 'Now tell me of the Vizonian Order's involvement in this if you wish to live.'

The assassin seemed to consider his options, but after a few seconds he sighed and his will to resist collapsed. It was the defeat of a man who had been fighting someone else's fight for too long, and it was the precursor to the collapse of psychological floodgates.

'Your suspicions are well-founded, Countess: I am Vizonian. My name is Tadruk. When I was a boy, Vizonia was a place of holiness and worship. Yoru's gracefulness was the end to which we aspired, and the veneration of Cha was the purpose of every soul within the grand portal realm of Vizonia. When Highfather Ioran became our leader the Order transformed. Suddenly our affairs were worldly rather than spiritual. I was no longer a Vizonian Guardsman, the ceremonial protector of the ancient libraries. I was an assassin. His most loyal subject he wed to Crown Prince Milos. Vizonian wealth was spent on intoxicating herbs and potions to distract King Degron.

‘Finally, he set us to work building in Vizonia. As the projects neared completion, we saw that we had not built monasteries or monuments, but mines. Mines, collieries, and quarries. Then we were put to work in the mines, sifting metal from the dirt. You look at me with shock. Did you not know that the earth inside your portal is no different to that inside Halivaara? There is dirt and grass, but sometimes there is also gold and iron. Ioran made the Vizonian treasury overflow with wealth.'

'For what purpose?' Timoth asked, though I wished he had not spoken. I feared that if we intruded, we might interrupt the assassin's train of thought and cause him to remember his allegiances.

'Are all Halivaarans so blind? Day after day I wonder why none act to stop Ioran. The iron was forged into swords and armour, the gold traded mostly for timber. Have you not heard that Western Island trees are unsuitable for seafaring vessels? I see you are putting it together now, but let me spell it out for you. The Vizonian Order supplied the arms and timber for the Tokuan fleet,' he explained.

My jaw dropped agape. Timoth’s eyes widened and we shared a glance of horror. The Vizonian Order was in league with the Tokuans? Why? What did they stand to gain from such an alliance? What did it mean for Halivaara?

'Vizonia funded the unification of the Western Island tribes under the Tokuan King,' Tadruk continued. 'No Vizonian fought in the Western Island: portals don't work that way. But only one Vizonian had to reach Tokua to join their king's portal realm with Vizonia. With coin to spare, Ioran funded pretenders in Trent and the desert nomads in the Borderlands. Assassins beset the noble houses in crucial counties, such as the Djirons and your own parents. They did not die in some chance attack - everything was planned by my peers, as you called them.

‘It was destined that the crown would fall to you, Countess. Wise men judged that you were too witless to withstand the coming invasion. Of course, the attempt on Timoth's life in the woods of eastern Trent failed, but now that he has abdicated he will be allowed to live. However, the presence of Prince Alum is a thorn in Ioran’s side. He wants Haelling Cove sacked to allow the Tokuans free passage along the Haelling, and fears that Alum's hand will steady yours. That is why I was tasked with eliminating him before you were married.'

'But why?' I cut in, my own impatience stirred by the assassin's reference to me as witless. 'Why does he seek to undermine Halivaaran strength? Why destroy what it has taken centuries to build?'

Tadruk smiled sadly. 'You misunderstand me. When I say that Ioran turned the Vizonian order from holiness to worldliness, I do not mean to say that he is concerned with this world. Quite the contrary, in fact. The instability in Halivaara has created a refugee crisis, one which the Vizonian Order was well-placed to take advantage of. Or did you not notice the Vizonian marquees all over the Kingdom? He teaches portalmancy to the educated to increase Vizonia’s size. Those without the skill are employed as slaves in the mines. Vizonia has tripled in size in the past year!'

'The Vizonian Order has been behind everything?' Timoth asked, his tone speaking of his disbelief. 'I can’t believe it. It’s preposterous!'

'You'd better believe it,' Tadruk said. Even the guard restraining the assassin looked surprised, though I’m sure much of the discussion had gone over his head. The assassin's tone changed, 'I'll take you up on that offer of release now. I need to disappear for a while.'

'What does this mean?' Timoth asked me. I didn't know if I could speak. Tadruk had revealed too much too fast. Or had I been blind not to see it? Could there really be gold in my portal? Was Highfather Ioran actually be so calculating, so evil? Was Prince Milos in on the scheme? 'Saemara!' he shouted, snapping me out of my daze.

'I don't know!' I replied in kind, dazed and confused. I brushed off my dress and turned to the guard. 'Keep him chained until the wedding, then release him. Quietly.'

I left before Tadruk could complain. I didn't want to spend another minute in the dank dungeons. The foundations of my reality were shaken and I couldn’t bear to hear anything more right now.

I took Timoth up to the meeting room in my chambers where I felt most comfortable. My wedding dress was laid out on my bed in the adjacent bedroom, reminding me of concerns closer to my heart, yet my mind was preoccupied with the assassin's confession. How could it not be? Everything that had happened to me over the last few years had been contrived by the Vizonian Order. By Highfather Ioran himself, according to Tadruk.

'Could it be true?' I asked Timoth, hoping that he could bring some sense back to my reality, but his expression bespoke a similar confusion.

'I don't know,' he said, though his meaning was clear. It was true, and he didn't know what to make of it. Neither did I. What could we make of it? If Prince Milos was in league with the Vizonian Order then we had no legal authority with which to act; at least, none that would be recognised by the dukes and counts that comprised Halivaara’s political machine.

I had one answer at least: the man who had emerged pre-planned from the portal on the Haelling Cove beach when I was sixteen had been Vizonian. The Tokuan raider bearing two shields had been sent specifically to bring him back to Tokua to spread the Vizonian demesne to the Western Island.