Morric Elberon stripped off his armour and put aside his sword. He helped himself to a ladleful of water from a wide pitcher and having drunk, splashed some unceremoniously over himself. He was a tall, large man, muscles visibly hardened by exercise, and he looked capable of rebuffing any potential attack. He moved surprisingly lightly on his feet, but there was something dangerous about him. His face was rounded, his eyes clear, and in his expression was that which spoke of a man born to command, a man others would respect. He had noticed Ygromm with Brannog, but he had not reacted visibly. He was not a man prone to outburst and whatever his thoughts, they remained closed.

'News?’ said Guile, as if he were expecting some.

'Little. But Wargallow's party has crossed the Camonile and must be near the Direkeep by now. Ruan was a damn fool to let them go.’

'I don't think so,’ said Guile. ‘Korbillian can look after himself, and his own.’ He smiled reassuringly at Brannog. ‘I say again, I am sure your daughter will be safe.’ He turned back to Elberon. ‘We have a number of guests. This is Brannog, from the village of Sundhaven, and he is the father of Sisipher. He has been following us. On his journey he met Ygromm, who is of the Earthwrought race.’ Guile said something about the little man.

Elberon came forward with a friendly nod and offered his hand to Brannog. ‘We will do all that we can to protect the girl,’ he said seriously, and Brannog read honesty in the man's gaze. Elberon bent to Ygromm. ‘Welcome, Ygromm. I know nothing of your people, but Guile has told me that we are to be allies. Will you take my hand in friendship?’

Ygromm was almost overcome. He could not believe that so many powerful overmen would offer friendship rather than the expected hostility. He shook hands solemnly, his hand swallowed up in Elberon's immense fist, but there was gentleness in the big man's grip.

'The Earthwrought are indeed anxious to form an alliance,’ said Guile. ‘And I am equally anxious to extend good relations between us. In these matters we have the perfect ambassador in Brannog.’

'Do they know why we are here?’

'Not yet, but now that you have returned, I must explain. Since you, Brannog and Ygromm have been good enough to furnish me with details of how you came to be here, I must return the compliment. I have to confess that the story I told in Sundhaven was incomplete. I hope, when I have expanded it, you will understand my reasons for subterfuge.’

Brannog nodded. ‘It is clear from your familiarity with this army that your meeting with it was no chance one.’

Elberon chuckled. ‘But he has been more than a little lucky.’

Guile also grinned. ‘You recall I spoke of flight from the Emperor?’

'As I recall,’ said Brannog, ‘it was banishment.’

'I did not lie about that. But it was how I tricked Quanar Remoon. In fact I was fleeing. I was not able to leave Goldenisle of my own volition, so I had to find a way of confusing the Emperor so that he would send me away. It was his Administrators that I had to trick, for they rule the Empire.’ He then recounted a little of the story of his leaving Goldenisle for Ygromm's benefit. ‘What Korbillian did not know, and what I have not divulged, is that there is a move afoot to overthrow Quanar Remoon. As an Emperor he is hopeless, though an ideal puppet for his Administrators. The poor man really is quite insane, through no fault of his own, and is not capable of ruling the Empire. His Administrators are a poor lot, greedy and grasping, and between them they will carve up and ruin the Empire before many more years pass. Fortunately there are sensible men alive who understand this, men like Morric here, who is, or was until his defection, Supreme Commander of the Twenty Armies. Actually there were three armies, but Quanar insisted that he knew of twenty at least, hence the extravagant title.’ He grinned again at Elberon, who nodded patiently. ‘Most of Quanar's relatives are dead. Never a very strong family, with far too many hereditary flaws, and a number of them have disappeared, somewhat mysteriously—”

'The Administrators?’ said Brannog.

'I am sure of it. But there is a cousin, whose birthright would be hotly disputed. Ottemar Remoon, who could prove his claim conclusively given the right circumstances.’

Elberon guffawed at this. ‘Aye, at the point of a sword.’

Guile ignored him. ‘Ottemar knew that Morric would support him, and so the first plans were hatched. Ottemar was secretly snatched from his place of imprisonment and now waits at a place known to only a few loyal supporters. Morric had word put out that he himself had been vanquished in one of the remote but imaginary “wars” that the Emperor was so fond of. Morric came here, where Empire men had not been previously. After all, no one was interested in what was thought to be a dreary continent. Gradually Morric arranged for more and more men to defect, until he built up an entire army. With ships he was able to pirate other Empire vessels, and often the crews were more than happy to join Morric. Well, the army is now almost ready to move against the Emperor.’

'And what is your place?’ asked Brannog.

'I am one of Ottemar's most trusted spies. The Administrators were suspicious of everyone, and I doubt if I could have escaped them but for the affair with Korbillian. Even the Administrators have to obey Quanar.’

'And Korbillian knows nothing of this?’

'Indeed not! I gave strict orders that my identity should be kept secret. Morric and his troops knew I would be coming, hence the search.’

'As well we were searching,’ grunted Elberon. ‘Since you fell foul of Wargallow's killers.’

'Yes, an unnerving experience. I'm afraid that Wargallow, Korbillian and the others were all led to believe that I had been captured by men anxious to punish me for some unmentioned “crime” against the Emperor. Ruan deceived them very well. I'm sure he was wise to avoid battle, though Morric here would likely have gone in breathing fire.’

Elberon snorted. ‘You are not the only man in Ottemar's camp capable of stealth.’

'But what of Korbillian's cause?’ said Brannog. ‘I have sworn to enjoin this war on the east, as has Ygromm. The Earthwrought will follow us. Where does Ottemar stand in this?’

Guile nodded understandingly. ‘It is a difficult situation. I have not been permitted to go before Ottemar, but I have sent a full report. He has fortunately agreed that the matter should be pursued. Firstly, I am anxious to be reunited with Korbillian. And with Sisipher and Wolgren. Their safety means much to me.’

'And Wargallow?’ said Brannog.

'We shall see. I have Ottemar's permission to ride upon this Direkeep. It may even be necessary to besiege it.’

For once Morric Elberon was not laughing, his brows clouded. ‘Damned waste of time! The place is well fortified. We would lose many men.’

'If you should rescue my daughter,’ said Brannog, ‘and release Korbillian and Wolgren, what then?’

'Ah, that is a real question. I will need to go before Ottemar, if I can persuade a certain bull-headed Commander that it is necessary! But for now it is better to get some rest and begin afresh tomorrow. Your people are comfortable, Ygromm? If there is anything they need, please let me know.’

Ygromm bowed, not sure how to behave in front of this overman who evidently had great rank among his own people. ‘You have been most generous,’ he nodded. The Earthwrought had been provided with a place of their own in the camp, a hollow protected from the prying eyes of inquisitive soldiery. Ruan had been told to see that nobody disturbed them, and had provided them with water, which was all they had seemed to want.

'We will talk at length shortly after daybreak,’ Guile told Brannog.

'Very well, but you will understand my anxiety to go on to the Direkeep with all haste.’

Guile nodded. ‘We leave promptly, I promise.’

As Brannog and Ygromm left the tent, Elberon was frowning. ‘You speak again of the Direkeep. Why must we concern ourselves with it?’

Guile helped himself to wine. After his journey, it tasted like nectar. ‘It is Korbillian that concerns me, Morric. It must be very difficult for you to comprehend what he is, and what he has. Have you ever encountered power?’

'Sorcery?’

'If you like. Power to control the elements, to raise or subdue a storm? Such things are not believed possible in Omara.’

'No. Wargallow's people kill those who accept such things.’

'Indeed they do. But Korbillian has power, believe me. What it is that he carries in his hands is beyond me.’ He sipped thoughtfully at his wine. ‘But I am sure of this, it can withstand anything the Direkeep throws against it.’

'Then why consider wasting men to rescue him if he does not need you!’

'For two reasons. On the one hand, I have seen other powers, an evil in the east that could be, as Korbillian believes, a threat to us all. Greater by far than Quanar's regime. Korbillian's power will go against it, but he needs help. Secondly there is our cause. If I am seen to attempt to aid Korbillian, even though he needs no aid to free himself from the keep, he will remember it well. If we had him with us when we sail upon Quanar, Morric! I have seen him control the very sea! He would ensure our success, I swear it. That is why I have tied myself to him for so long.’

'He knows nothing of your part in the rebellion?’

'Nor of the rebellion. But I will explain it all to him.’

'And if he refuses to help?’

'How can he, if we help him in the east?’

Morric's frown deepened. ‘The east? You would take men there?’

'I will need several hundred of your best men.’

Elberon looked amazed. ‘Oh, is that all?’

'Not quite. I want you to lead them.’

Elberon groaned. ‘This is madness. We have spent a long time preparing this army—”

'And is it ready to sail?’

'Not yet. But in less than a year—”

'That's all that's needed for this affair in the east. Less. I feel sure that Ottemar will grant me permission.’

Elberon chuckled. ‘Yes, I'm sure he will.’

'We have potential allies in Ygromm's folk.’

Elberon scoffed. ‘Half-men? They are like children.’

'I am not prepared to dismiss them so easily. This continent is full of strange things.’ He finished his wine. ‘I had forgotten how truly wonderful this wine could be. Now I will sleep. You'd better begin preparing troops for the ride to the Direkeep. We'll test the Preserver's strength.’

Ygromm's people were relieved to see him again, for they were uneasy in the camp of the overmen, surrounded as they were by them. Ruan had ensured that the soldiers kept away, telling the men that it seemed likely they would be on the move soon. Many of them were restless, bored by the inactivity and eager to ride to war, or at least to the Direkeep, for rumour had quickly spread that the place was to be attacked. Several men had asked Ruan about Ottemar's spy, but Ruan said little about it, enjoying the secrecy and his part in it.

Ygromm also enjoyed being able to walk proudly among his men, whispering to them that he had been accepted as an equal. The overmen, he told them, were good, and would not, as some of them seemed to think, devour Earthwrought flesh when it suited them. Yet Ygromm spoke gravely to Brannog. ‘My people are not used to being above ground, Brannog Wormslayer. This is all happening a little suddenly for them.’

'In the morning we leave for the Direkeep. On our own if we have to.’

'And these warriors?’

'Can we go under the earth?’

'Of course. We are Earthwrought.’

'I will suggest this to Guile.’

'He seems prepared to besiege the keep.’

'I wonder why,’ Brannog mused.

'You do not trust him?’

'I am not sure. Why has he followed Korbillian? What course will he follow when we have finished with the Direkeep?’

'You think these warriors will ride upon the eastern powers?’

'They are Ottemar's men. Why should they?’

A shout from a nearby tent drew Brannog's attention. It was the only tent the Earthwrought had wanted, the place where the injured Ilassa had been resting. One of his Earthwrought guards had called to Ygromm. Quickly he and Brannog went to see what had happened. Ilassa had come round for the first time. The Earthwrought had worked their powers on him several times and his health seemed to be mending miraculously. The Earthwrought were delighted with their success, seeing in Ilassa's recovery an exceptional omen.

'Who are you?’ Ilassa gasped, for the sight of the crowding Earthwrought, lit by their own eerie body-glow, unnerved him.

Brannog gently pushed through them. ‘I am Brannog, father of the girl, Sisipher.’ He began to explain

'You must excuse me,’ Ilassa said dazedly, shaking his head. He insisted on getting up to sit on the side of the bed. ‘Where are we?’

'In the camp of Morric Elberon, the Emperor's warlord.’

Ilassa sat upright, gasping. ‘Empire! Then we are prisoners!’

'No,’ smiled Brannog. ‘You fought with Korbillian and Guile against the Deliverers?’

'Why, yes—”

Brannog sketched out the details of what had happened, and at the end of it, Ilassa gaped.

'Then these soldiers are not really enemies of Strangarth? They do not covet our lands at all.’

'On the contrary, we have a common enemy in the east. You saw them?’

'Barely. But there is Wargallow—”

'Korbillian will be with him now. We will follow, as will Guile.’

'Guile the spy,’ whispered Ilassa. ‘It seems incredible. He was the weakest.’

'Don't be misled. He has a quick brain.’

'And Taroc? Did you find his body?’

Brannog's face clouded. He had not mentioned him. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘We saw nothing of him.’

Ilassa nodded sullenly. ‘No. Dead, I would think.’

After an awkward silence, Brannog said, ‘So what are your plans?’

'What do you suggest?’

'You must alert Strangarth to events here. Tell him of the east, and of the men who are rising against it. Tell him of the Earthwrought and of Korbillian. And that the soldiers of Morric Elberon—”

There was a discreet cough at the tent flap, and Ruan appeared, followed by Guile.

'I heard that Ilassa was awake,’ said the latter.

Ilassa stood unsteadily. ‘It is good to see you safe.’

Guile came to him and gripped him warmly. ‘And you are alive! It is amazing! I owe you my life, for you kept me alive on the Swiftwater Bridge. My dread of high places made a fool of me there.’

'I have seen stranger fears in men.’

'I can hardly believe you recovered. I saw you fall from the span, and yet Brannog tells me the Earthwrought have pulled you back from death.’

'It is true.’

'Well, I will not tire you tonight. But I must say this: we are not at war with Strangarth. Morric Elberon has given strict orders to his men not to incite quarrels of any kind with your king. They are not here to steal his land.’

Brannog told Guile what he had suggested. ‘I was about to say he should tell Strangarth that the men of Empire are allies.’

'Good,’ nodded Guile. ‘I agree that Ilassa should ride to his king. Could you persuade Strangarth to send men, Ilassa?’

'To war on the Deliverers?’

Guile shook his head, grinning. ‘No need. But I think we must all go eastward soon. Morric is grumbling like an old woman. After all, he has prepared to attack Quanar for some time. But leave him to me.’

'Then we are united,’ said Brannog.

'I never doubted Korbillian,’ said Guile. ‘It is wise to share his fears. But are you fit enough to ride, Ilassa?’

'By morning he will be,’ said Ygromm.

Guile called to Ruan, who stepped closer. ‘I want you to go with him, Ruan. It is important that Strangarth knows the truth.’

Ruan paled. ‘Will the Commander —?’

'Permit it? I think he will see the reasoning.’

Ilassa smiled. ‘You have my word you'll be safe.’ He turned to Guile. ‘If I can persuade Strangarth to send men, and it will not be easy, where are they to come?’

'To the Direkeep. We may not have pierced its walls, but until Korbillian is free, we will be camped beside it.’

Soon afterwards, Guile and Ruan left, and Ilassa sank back, tired yet, but hungry. The Earthwrought provided him with their own strange food, which he wolfed, then fell asleep.

'Later we will work gently again,’ said Ygromm. ‘He is young and healthy, and lucky not to be tainted. By morning he will be strong.’

Brannog sat down, himself exhausted. ‘A long day,’ he sighed. ‘Who would have expected so many paths to cross each other?’

Ygromm nodded. He seemed to want to speak, but hesitated. However, he finally gave voice to his thoughts. ‘It is your daughter you seek?’

Brannog nodded. ‘I did not say so, for fear of losing your support, Ygromm. I did not want you to think my quest a selfish one. Her safety means much to me—”

'Of course.’

'But there are other matters now—”

'None of them more important than the girl's safety,’ said Ygromm at once. His wrinkled face stared into Brannog's quite openly sincere, and Brannog could have hugged the little man.

'I think, Ygromm, there will be a storm.’

'If this man Guile can draw men to him, then the east will have cause to tremble.’

'Just so,’ Brannog yawned. But his suspicions remained. Why should Guile turn aside from his true purpose to go on Korbillian's perilous trek? The thought still nagged at him as he fell asleep.

In the morning the camp was humming with activity.

Brannog found Ygromm's folk ready to travel at once. He met Guile, who was himself ready to ride, and who seemed to have been up since before dawn. He looked a little tired, while beside him, terrifying in his war gear, Morric Elberon looked fresh.

'We will find our own way,’ said Brannog. ‘We meet there.’

'Very well. And Ilassa?’

'Eating heartily,’ Brannog chuckled. ‘He is greatly restored.’

Guile smiled at Ygromm, whose features looked exceptionally fierce in the morning light. ‘It still seems a wonder that he lives at all.’

Ygromm bowed, and Guile pondered the strange powers of the little folk. But he was businesslike at once, turning to Elberon. ‘See that they are escorted from the camp and set on their way. Find horses—”

'No need,’ said Brannog. ‘We travel below the earth.’

Guile nodded, but he wondered at Brannog. How changed he was, even in so short a time. It seemed like months since they had first met. Brannog had cut an impressive figure at Sundhaven, a man that the entire village had looked up to, but now he seemed to be imbued with something even stronger. The Earthwrought again? What had they done to him? Even Morric has been impressed with him and it took a good deal in a man to impress the huge warlord.

'As you prefer,’ said Guile.

Brannog held out his hand and Guile shook it warmly, at once sensing the strength flowing in the man's veins. ‘Will you wait if you are there before me?’

'I will,’ Brannog agreed.

'And I for you, if need be,’ said Guile.

Soon afterwards, Brannog and the Earthwrought were gone as if they had never been, and the soldiers buzzed with chatter about them.

Elberon was grinning. ‘This continent breeds strange children. I will be glad to go home,’ he laughed. It had taken Guile a long time that night to persuade him that pursuit of Korbillian was the best course.

'Is Ruan ready for his ride?’

Again Elberon laughed. ‘Aye! Shaking at the knees. He thinks this is a cruel way to repay him for saving you from the Deliverers.’

Guile himself laughed. ‘Not so. He is an excellent man. And I think Ilassa will not let us down. Strangarth may be difficult, though. He has lost men to us.’

'You think he can be persuaded to our cause?’

'To Korbillian's first. You see, again Korbillian is the key.’

Ilassa was already checking the horse he had been given, and had pronounced himself well satisfied with it to Ruan. Guile noticed that the two men seemed to respect each other. Elberon, however, had told Ruan that the Earthwrought had worked their magic on Ilassa, and Ruan was now wary of him.

Guile spoke quietly to the soldier. ‘I would not send you with him, Ruan, if I did not feel certain that he is an ally. He spoke well of Korbillian, and you must be our ambassador in Strangarth's kingdom. Try and bring us men from there.’

'There is to be war?’

'On the eastern powers, first.’

'And Wargallow?’

'Less important. When Strangarth understands that we are opposed to the eastern powers, he may well join us.’

'I will do my utmost.’

'Then meet us at the Direkeep.’ Guile went then to Ilassa and they shook hands for the last time. ‘There will be strife,’ he told him. ‘Strangarth cannot stay out of this quarrel now. He must know that it won't be long before the Children of the Mound seek to cross the Swiftwater into his lands in force. We must take the battle to them.’

'If ever I weaken in my resolve,’ said Ilassa dourly, ‘I have only to think of Taroc and what was done to him. Strangarth thought highly of him.’

'You know about Taroc?’

'Ygromm told me.’

Guile nodded. ‘I have not forgotten. Good luck.’

Ruan and Ilassa mounted and were gone, thundering back to the north, the trees swallowing them. Guile clapped Elberon on the shoulder. ‘Eastwards, then, Morric! And where is your good humour?’

Elberon stared eastward. ‘East! We should be riding to our hidden fleet, and sailing west.’

'When we do, my friend, there will be such a strength in our arm that we will sweep all before us. You may yet become Supreme Commander of the Twenty Armies! Why not? I must use my influence with Ottemar Remoon to win you that honour.’

Elberon chuckled, snapping down his visor. ‘If Ottemar grants me such a distinction, I would seriously consider it time to depose him. Perhaps a military emperor, a new line, would be called for.’ They rode out to the troops, laughing like children.

Not long after the guards on the bridge to the Direkeep had signalled to that soaring tower that they had seen what looked like an army approaching, a single rider came across the bridge to where Djemuta waited anxiously. Djemuta did not recognise the man as he rode up to them, not knowing him for one of Wargallow's Faithful. To Djemuta's chagrin, the man came not to him, but to the captain of the bridge, and he could not hear what was said.

'You are loyal to Wargallow?’ the Deliverer asked the captain, his whisper like steel in darkness.

Everything depended on his answer, the captain knew. He felt sure that there was rebellion, led by Wargallow. His answer meant survival, promotion possibly, or death. ‘I am.’

'If necessary, first?’

'Yes.’ He had said it, cast his life into the balance.

'Good. Has the man Djemuta spoken to you about Korbillian, whom he brought here?’

The captain's heart raced. He had answered as desired! There was no retreat now. ‘He has. He questioned Wargallow's actions in not giving the blood of all the prisoners.’

'Do you accept Wargallow's action?’

'Yes.’ But he wondered.

The Deliverer turned away and raised his voice for all to hear. ‘You are all to return to the safety of the keep at once.’ He stood his horse aside to allow the guards to pass. As Djemuta came abreast of him, he checked him.

'Wargallow has asked me to escort you and your men to special quarters. If you would follow me.’ Like many of the Deliverers, the man was cold, his expression unreadable. He did not elaborate on his orders, merely waited for the captain and his guards to go on ahead, then followed them. Djemuta mounted his horse and called his own men together. For a second he fought an impulse to flee. He knew better than to ask more of the guide, but wondered if he was to be rewarded or punished. But why should Wargallow punish him? However, it was wise to go into the keep, for there were many soldiers coming, far too many to oppose in the open.

Once inside the keep, the guide led Djemuta and his men downward, a fact that further disturbed Djemuta. The better quarters were higher up in the keep. There were other Deliverers waiting for them and they soundlessly directed Djemuta's men to rooms that looked comfortable enough. Djemuta himself was taken to a room of his own. There were no windows, but a fire burned and the table was set out with enough food for three men.

'Why this treatment?’ he said at last.

The Deliverer's face remained set. ‘Wargallow was anxious to see you and your men adequately provided for. Everything you need is here. Later, when you require one, there will be a woman for you. You only need call.’

'Call? Is this a cell?’ gasped Djemuta.

'No. But you must wait until fetched.’

'What of the prisoners, do you know?’

The Deliverer stood by the door, hand on its external bolt. ‘Which prisoners do you mean?’

Surely this man knew about the prisoners, Korbillian and the others, Djemuta's mind cried. The entire keep should be alert to the news. But before he could ask more, the door closed and Djemuta knew he had been locked in.

'Wait!’ he yelled, his left hand thumping on the thick wooden door. ‘I must speak to the Preserver! Do you hear me? It is imperative. He may be in great danger.’

There was no reply. Djemuta cursed. Was that it? Betrayal? Had Wargallow hidden the prisoners and not informed the Preserver? That so-called power of Korbillian's—had it corrupted Wargallow? To what end? Certainly he had made no attempt to give Korbillian's blood to the earth, and had even allowed the Empire soldiery to take away the man Guile to ensure Korbillian's survival. Why, Djemuta had remarked upon that to the captain of the bridge. As he thought it, he went cold, feeling the trap closing. A test of my loyalty? How can I let the Preserver know what has happened?

Later, when the girl came, painted and perfumed for the arts of love, Djemuta had thought of a way, using the girl. But he had been away for many weeks and the girl was chosen for her extreme skill. He slipped into oblivion naked in her arms, unaware that his whispered orders would never be carried out, just as he was unaware that she had poisoned him.