as he heard Gilbert trip over the hem of his robe.
At the head of the stairs there was a large door, securely closed, with another two guards before it. Both snapped to attention as Ho’Demi brushed past them into the room, beckoning Gilbert after him.
Gilbert blinked as he accustomed himself to the light in the bright room, then stepped out of the way as two women hurried towards the door.
“Wait up, Faraday,” he heard Borneheld call. “Perhaps I will get my son on you tonight.”
Harsh laughter followed as Faraday slipped by Gilbert and out the door. It had been some six months since he had seen Faraday. Then she had been a vibrant girl, now the person who brushed past him looked wearied by the sadnesses of the world.
“Well?” Borneheld’s voice snapped. “Who’s this?”
Ho’Demi turned over the papers he had taken from Gilbert. Borneheld skimmed through them quickly. “Ah,” he said. “It seems Brother Gilbert might have some interesting news indeed. Gilbert?”
Well, thought Gilbert, here at least is a man worthy of my regard. Borneheld stood before the fire, a little scruffier than when Gilbert had last seen him, with his auburn hair shaved so short it appeared he had a badly bruised but utterly bald scalp, yet Gilbert still thought he looked the noblest man in the room. He deserves our protection and support, he thought as he stepped up to Borneheld and bowed.
“My Lord Duke,” he said respectfully. He did not add “of Ichtar,” because that would be insulting in the present circumstances, and Gilbert had strict instructions from Jayme not to offend Borneheld in any way.
“What news?” Borneheld asked, “that the Brother-Leader should send one of his advisers to speak to me personally?”
“My Lord,” Gilbert said ingratiatingly. “Brother-Leader Jayme instructed me that my news should be for your ears only.”
Borneheld’s eyes narrowed. Either the man carried important news or he was an assassin, and these days Borneheld trusted few people. But eventually he turned from Gilbert. “Roland, Ho’Demi, you may leave. Report to me with Jorge at dawn tomorrow. We need to go over the plans for the final flooding of the canals.”
Both men bowed and left silently, Gilbert noticing that Roland had lost much weight recently.
“My Lord?” Gilbert whispered, gesturing towards Gautier and Timozel.
“They stay with me,” Borneheld said sharply. “I trust them with my life, and they will not hesitate to take yours should you threaten mine.”
“I am your servant, Lord,” Gilbert grovelled, “not your murderer.”
“Well, then, sit down at the table and help yourself to some wine. You look as if you need some refreshment.”
Borneheld sat down opposite Gilbert, but Gautier and Timozel remained standing, ready to leap to Borneheld’s defence should he require it. Both men looked equally dangerous, and Gilbert wondered what had turned the boyish Timozel into this frightening man who had, quite obviously, transferred his loyalties from Axis to Borneheld.
“My Lord Duke,” Gilbert began, “Brother-Leader Jayme has read your reports and listened to the news from the north of Achar with growing alarm.”
“I have done my best,” Borneheld said, “but …”
“But you were betrayed, my Lord, we understand that. Axis and Magariz betrayed you, and they have betrayed the Seneschal as well with their damned pact with the Forbidden.”
“Yes!” Borneheld said. “I was betrayed from within! There is no-one I can trust! No-one! Except,” he hastened, “Gautier and Timozel. No-one else.”
To one side both Gautier and Timozel bowed slightly.
“And you are right to fear treachery, my Lord,” Gilbert continued smoothly. This was going far better than he had anticipated. “For I bring grievous news.”
“By the Blessed Artor!” Borneheld said, rising so quickly that the chair he’d been sitting on fell to the floor with a crash. “Who now?”
Gilbert assumed an expression of deep sorrow. “It grieves me to say this, my Lord –”
“Then bloody say it!” Borneheld shouted, and leaned across the table to seize Gilbert by his habit.
“Priam,” Gilbert stammered, frightened by the madness in Borneheld’s eyes. “Priam.”
Borneheld let Gilbert go. “Priam? Priam betrays me? How?”
“Priam is frightened and alone,” Gilbert whispered. “He does not have your resolve or your courage. He listens to the Prophecy of the Destroyer.”
Borneheld swore, and Gilbert hurried on. “He wonders if Axis is still alive and, if so, whether he should consider an alliance with the Forbidden.”
“He what?” Borneheld said. “How can he consider such a thing? Artor himself must be screaming at the thought.”
“Yes,” Gilbert said. “Your reaction mirrors Jayme’s.”
“How many know that Priam thinks this way?” Borneheld asked.
“Jayme, Moryson, the four of us in this room, and one or two others, my informants in the palace at Carlon.”
“This is something that should not be bruted about,” Borneheld said.
“Jayme would entirely agree with that. My Lord, I cannot stress how anxious Jayme is about this development. If Priam were to ally himself with Axis and his ungodly hordes, then the Forbidden could invade Achar and all would be lost.”
He took a careful pause. “My Lord. Jayme has instructed me to tell you that you have his, nay, the Seneschal’s, entire support in whatever course of action you choose to take in this matter.”
Borneheld turned towards the fire so that none could see his face. “And what does ‘Jayme’s entire support’ mean, Gilbert? Has not Axis efficiently destroyed your military power base? Where are your vaunted Axe-Wielders now?”
“We control the hearts and souls of the Acharites, my Lord Duke. We are the mediators between their souls and the rewards of the AfterLife in the care of Artor, or, should they refuse to listen to our message, in the pits of fire where worms will gnaw at their entrails for eternity. My Lord Duke, they listen to us. Should we say, ‘Borneheld is your man’, then they will listen.”
Gilbert took a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice was heavy with meaning. “If you fight against Axis and the Forbidden, Borneheld, then Jayme and the Seneschal will support you in whatever course of action you decide to take.”
Borneheld’s eyes glinted strangely. “And what does the Brother-Leader advise me to do, Brother Gilbert?”
“Brother-Leader Jayme advises that you return to Carlon, my Lord, should the situation here in Jervois Landing be stable enough. Once back in Carlon you can shore up Priam’s resolve, or –”
“Or?”
