'I suppose so, but don't grow too fond of it. As one of the Chosen, tradition says you should be addressed as Lord Isak, and you lose it when you become Lord of the Farlan anyway, though I hope that will be a long-distant day.' Bahl smiled, rather uneasily, as though the expression was unfamiliar. 'Anvee is dull and overgrown in any case. There's not much of interest there, only a handful of towns and villages populated by shepherds.'
Isak opened his mouth to ask another question, but Bahl had already turned and entered the central chimney. He shut up and watched the giant disappear, enveloped in a grey blur.
Left alone again, Isak clambered to his feet, draping a woollen blanket from the bed around his shoulders, and made for the fire. He nudged the chair Bahl had sat in out of the way and squatted on the floor to stare into the flames. The fire looked just like any other, with no sign of its unnatural birth. Isak smiled; maybe, after today, he wouldn't envy it that. After a while he realised his head was clear and the dull ache in his muscles was receding. He stood and stretched-Perhaps he could face the day after all.
He removed his shirt again and took another look at the scar on his chest. The rune was no more than two inches wide; a minor
for all the trepidation it had provoked in him. Despite the fact that he could only just see it, when he put the shirt back on the throb of its presence remained. The pain was nothing compared to the nag of its unknown significance.
Investigating the clothes trunk, Isak found a better pair of breeches than his own, and some sort of shapeless shirt with sleeves so short and fat it looked as if it had been made for a Chetse rather than sorneone of Isak's build. He guessed he looked a little foolish in it, but the shirt was warm so it would do for the meantime.
There were no boots in the trunk, so Isak closed the lid, looked around the room once more in case he'd missed anything, and stepped on to the murky platform. This time he savoured the taste of magic it contained, an almost metallic flavour that drove the last vestiges of sleep from his mind. He took a deep breath and focused his mind on the bird symbol down below. A momentary rush of giddiness passed away and when the lower chamber and Tila's slightly alarmed face were revealed, Isak looked calm and controlled.
'Ah, there you are.' As he stepped forward the girl curtsied.
'Oh, please don't do that every time I see you,' Isak begged. 'It makes me feel stupid.'
'I- yes, my Lord.' They stared at each other in silence until Isak gave an enquiring nod at a pair of boots Tila carried.
'Oh yes, I borrowed these from one of the guardsmen. I hope they're big enough for you. I've sent for tailors and a cobbler to attend you this afternoon – if these will suffice for the morning, that is.'
Isak took the boots from her and pulled them on. They were simple, but well made – and certainly better and newer than any he'd ever worn before. The fit was snug, and his toes were crammed together especially tightly in the left, but it was far better than bare feet on cobbled or flagged stone. He beamed at the improvement. Tila gave him a relieved smile.
Should I ask Lesarl for the money to pay the tailors then?' he asked, recalling Bahl's earlier instructions.
‘Not at all, my Lord.'
‘Why not?’ he asked, wondering if he had missed something. ‘They’ re hardly going to dress me for nothing.’ She smiled again, and this time Isak thought she was being a little condescending.
‘I think in fact they would dress you for free, my Lord,' she explained. 'You are a suzerain, and if their work pleases you, you would be expected to have much more work for them in the future. My grandfather always said that a good tailor was the first requirement of a gentleman.'
'I'm far from that.'
'On the contrary, my Lord, as Suzerain Anvee, you outrank almost every gentleman in the nation. My Lord, may I be bold and speak freely?'
Isak shrugged, lips pursed as he anticipated a comment on the shirt he'd just put on.|
'The talk of the palace is that before your elevation to Krann, you lived on a wagon-train.' She paused, wary of looking foolish or giving offence, but Isak nodded without further comment. 'If that is the case, I would venture to guess that you find yourself in a life about which you know nothing. Perhaps I might be so free as to offer what advice I can? This is the society I have grown up in. It might be asking you to trust me excessively, but I assure you that any disgrace or humiliation visited upon you would reflect upon me. I am not unattractive, I know that, but I am unmarried at seventeen because my father has no money for a dowry, despite his position. Proving myself an able counsellor to you could compensate for that – it could demonstrate my usefulness to any man beyond the first duty of bearing an heir. I have as much to lose as you do, and as much to gain.'
Isak considered her words. He wasn't quite ready to trust her, but she had acknowledged that already. At least he knew to be wary, and what more could he ask for?
'Go on then,' he said grudgingly.
'Yes, my Lord. You are now a man of court rank – how society regards you will be determined, first and foremost, by the way you present yourself.'
'I've no intention of presenting myself to anyone. If I'm Krann, then surely people should be coming to me.'
'And I'm sure they will, that's the way of politics. However, to wield power successfully, one must cultivate friendships as well as receive them. Isolation is no way to achieve victory in any arena.'
'Lord Bahl seems to manage.'
Tila paused. 'My Lord, to the other nobles you are just a youth – albeit one with potential as a soldier. The divine edicts are clear the Chosen are just that: made fit by the gifts of the Gods, but they
Must prove themselves worthy of those gifts, and they must hold on to power by themselves. Lord Bahl is one of the greatest warriors in the Land. In combat, he is matchless. Quite aside from the fact that our finest regiment is loyal to him to a man, no Farlan alive could beat him in a duel. In the political arena, he's well protected by his Chief Steward. You, on the other hand, are untested in any form of battle, and you're a stranger to the viciousness of polite society.'
'So as my advisor, what would you have me do?' Isak shifted his weight from one foot to the other. As he grew irritated, so he felt the squeeze on his toes become more noticeable.
'Show yourself to be their equal. Dress and act as befitting a man of your station and they will soon be flocking to court your attention. If you are quiet and considered, welcoming but never overly so, then you will have the time you need to learn how to deal with the men of court rank: the dukes, suzerains and counts. They are men of guile who will use the law, force, influence and rumour to gain what they want. To play their game, you must first understand its rules.'
'And then what?'
'And then men will align themselves to you. They won't all be trustworthy, of course, but that will be how you can develop your powerbase grounded in something more than military might. Lord Bahl's intentional rejection of high society has caused him more than a few problems in the past.'
'That sounds like a dangerous opinion to me.'
Tila stared at Isak in alarm before realising he had not meant it as a threat.
‘I -I don't believe so, my Lord. It is well known that Lord Bahl takes little interest in politics or the cult of Nartis, and that this has caused problems in the past.'
Isak stayed silent while Tila's words churned through his head. Yet
more strange, more confusion in his life; more playing the games of other men, something he had yearned to be free of. Damn them, he thought all of a sudden, I am a man of power now and that means I should be able to live my life how I want. Why should I bend to another man’s will? Let the Land now bend to mine. He opened his mouth to say exactly that to Tila, then the words faltered in his throat. She was trying to help, to be a freiend. Right now she was the only one he had here; no need to reject everything she'd said.