Ricktor had said that the pure white banners of The Chosen were a deliberate tactical choice. A cornered army fights the hardest. If they could not strip their flags of their colours, they could not surrender. Talah thought their banners looked like sails. Sails which pulled the army from place to place, drifters on the seas of war.

The Chosen halted a respectable distance from her castle, close enough to announce their presence without being so close as to declare siege. A warrior in shining chain and white tabard separated from the army, approaching on foot. He was accompanied by an unarmoured youth on horseback. Talah recognized the warrior, though not the shining mail.

“Broken Sword,” she said, as he came within range of hearing, “you have returned.”

His twisted smile did not reach his eyes. They were as troubled and as grey as the sea.

“I keep my promises. Do you keep yours?”

“I have money and enough supplies for all your troops”

The corners of Broken Sword’s eyes crinkled into a true smile. He scratched his chin, which was bright pink. He’d shaved recently, “We are yours to command. What would you have us do, my Queen?”

“My first concern is the man beside you. Who is he?”

The rider swung down from his horse and bowed low before Talah. “I am Matthew; student of history and seeker of freedom.”

Though he waited like a servant, Matthew spoke like a lord. His voice was calm, his words were measured, and he had an air of… of majesty about him. It was in his voice, but it was also in the way he stood, and the way his gaze slid from face to face. The gathering amused him. What did he know that she didn’t? Was he a prince in disguise? Or perhaps even a king? She dismounted her own horse and touched Matthew’s shoulder with her uninjured hand, bidding he rise, “What freedom do you seek Matthew?”

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“The freedom of all doms and all people. Freedom from Ganter. I wish to join your cause.”

“You wish to pledge allegiance?”

So he was a lord then, for neither prince nor king would bend the knee. But Matthew surprised her again. He clapped her on the shoulder, hard, like a soldier, and smiled down at her. He was very tall. Matthew seemed to tower over the heads of lesser men. Even Broken Sword, who was taller, was diminished by his presence. Talah, tall in her own right, felt like a child before him, like she stood in front of one of the kings of old.

“I cannot do so. I will, however, be your friend as long as you stand against Ganter. Let me aid you. Give me supplies and an escort and I will find you other friends. You will need many.”

Now that was strange. Did he mean to suggest that he went without retainers, even in the company of The Chosen? “What of your own escort? Surely you do no travel alone?”

“I must leave my escort in Broken Sword’s care to advise him.”

Broken Sword snorted.

Talah addressed Broken Sword, “Yes?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” Broken Sword rubbed his pink chin and turned to study the horizon.

Matthew smiled, “Broken Sword doesn’t think he needs anyone’s advice, but I would offer every resource at my disposal to this war.”

Talah sympathized with Broken Sword, but advisors were a burden which needed to be borne. Matthew had the right of it. She decided at that moment to trust the strange young man. He would have what he asked for. More, for she would give him Camil. Anything less would be risking an insult.

“If you are truly dedicated to my war, to our war, then I shall give you your escort. My Queen consort and several of her elite soldiers will accompany you.”

Broken Sword and Matthew sat in the command tent of The Chosen, sharing a small platter of deer. Broken Sword shook his head slowly, “In a century of life, I’ve never seen anything like it. How did you do that?”

“No idea. I’m having troubles believing it myself. I wonder what she thinks of me? I think it’s Stillow’s fault. He taught me that leadership is like standing on a mountain high above the mists. Nothing exists but what you have your eye on, and all is below, yours for the taking. Well, he didn’t say that exactly, and maybe I haven’t said it right myself, but it’s something like that. I simply told the truth and asked for what I wanted while acting as though I was entitled to it.”

Broken Sword parted his thin lips into a brief grin, “There’s more to Stillow than meets the eye. I’ve often wondered if wisdom is earned near the end of life, rather than by the years spent in it. Between the two of us, I am the older, but I may not be the elder.”