Tom Lloyd - The ragged man

'My ward, Ruhen.' She looked around and realised there was no seat for her. This was a studied insult, a major breach of protocol.

'You will not be staying long enough,' Styrax said, seeing her reaction.

Ruhen took a sudden step forward, slipping from Kayel's unresisting hands to grasp the duchess' skirt. He tugged it and she looked down at him, smiling.

'I'm tired,' he complained. He shook his head and his carefully brushed hair fell over his eyes, deepening the shadows in them.

'There are no seats, sweetheart,' Natai said, ushering him back to Kayel.

'But he has one,' Ruhen protested in rare annoyance, pointing a little finger at Lord Styrax. There was a collective intake of breath even as Natai shushed the boy and pushed him back into Kayel's charge.

'I apologise, Lord Styrax,' she said, trying not to show her fear. 'He is only a child.'

'An allowance can be made,' Styrax said in an oddly hollow voice. 'Ruhen, come over here. You may sit on my knee.'

Before Natai could react Ruhen had again slipped Kayel's grasp and trotted across the room. He was the size of a six-year-old, and he looked tiny in comparison with the seven-foot-tall white-eye. Though his head was no higher than Styrax's knee, he did not appear in the least daunted. When he was close enough he reached up his arms to be picked up and with the gentleness of a father the mighty Styrax obeyed the unspoken order, sitting the little boy on his thigh, supporting his back with one huge hand.

Finally, Styrax looked at Natai. 'Now, duchess, present your petition,' he said.

Natai blinked for a moment at Ruhen, who gave her a little wave, then she hurriedly gathered her thoughts. 'My Lord, the Circle City is plagued by the dragon you released. It is killing my own citizens, and the destruction in Ismess is extensive.'

'Are you asking me to clear up after myself?'

'I… I would not have put it so, my Lord – '

'Then I am mistaken?'

A pause. 'No, my Lord, you are not, but I would not wish you to feel that I had spoken to you as I would to Ruhen.'

Styrax glanced at Amber, but the soldier said nothing.

Nai, the strange mage who had been appointed Natai's Menin liaison, had claimed Amber had killed the Chosen of Tsatach during the battle with the Farlan. That Styrax had looked to the man during this meeting showed he was probably telling the truth, and Major Amber's star was indeed in the ascendancy.

'You want me to do something about this dragon,' Styrax said at last. 'Isn't it traditional to invite adventurers and wandering knights to kill it? You could offer them half of Lord Celao's kingdom instead of your own, since Ismess is the most affected.'

'I fear more than a few soldiers have already died at its claws,' Natai said, not rising to his sarcasm. 'More do so every day, trying to protect the innocents of the quarter. Who, because of the rules you yourself have imposed, are unable to travel from the city, and thus cannot flee the creature's predations.'

'Ah, my fault yet again.' He gestured towards Amber. 'Unfortunately, my champion managed to hurt himself while out giant-killing. It'll be a while before he's back at work.'

'So you will not act?' the duchess asked with a hint of anger.

'Dangerous words, duchess,' Styrax snapped. 'Hinting at cowardice is a poor way to win me round; you would not live long enough to see whether pricking my pride has the desired effect!'

'I apologise if I gave such an impression, my Lord.' The duchess curtseyed again, lower this time than when she had she entered the room.

'Do not take me for a fool, madam! You want me to react angrily, to claim I've never backed down from a fight – to remind you that since I became an adult I've never lost a battle?' Styrax leaned forward. 'But I don't need to tell you that, do I? And you bring your pet Jester with you too, to flatter my martial prowess by such a champion begging for my help.'

The duchess looked discomforted by that, and was for a moment unable to remember why she had invited the Demi-God to accompany her.

'Well, Koteer? Are you going to stand there like a fool, or will you get on your fucking knees and beg?' Styrax demanded loudly.

Whatever the son of Death intended was forestalled when Ruhen tapped the Menin Lord on his thigh. 'You shouldn't use that word,' he said, shaking his head.

Styrax looked down. 'You think not? Is that what your nurse has taught you?'

Ruhen pointed towards Kayel, who made a good show of colouring and studying his own boots. 'He does sometimes.'

'I bet he does, the scamp,' Styrax said, making a visible effort to get a grip on his rage. 'You must tell your nurse that some people can say what they like.'

'Do you let your little boy say it?' Ruhen asked with disarming directness. The boy looked up through his tousled hair at the huge face above him.

Natai didn't know whether to grab the child and run, to try to save them both from the lash of the white-eye's unbridled fury, or if she should wait, and see if the child's innocence would calm the savage beast.

Styrax looked into the swirls of shadow in the child's eyes and felt his boiling rage subside. 'I – My son knew who he had to respect,' he replied in a choked voice.

Ruhen patted the thigh he was sitting on with the exaggerated solemnity of a child. 'Don't be sad. He isn't hurting now.'

Natai watched Styrax's face with bated breath. The effect of Ruhen's words was clearly visible and she felt a surge of jealousy that the child was bonding with him, not her. If it had been any other child, Styrax would dismissed them all, maybe even violently, but she knew herself how difficult it was to tear oneself from the warm embrace of Ruhen's eyes.

'I can't be sure of that,' Styrax said.

Ruhen gave him a guileless smile. 'He isn't hurting any more,' the little boy said again, firmly.

It looked as though a weight had lifted from his shoulders, the lines softening on the huge lord's face. Then he remembered himself and carefully lifted Ruhen off his knee again, nudging him towards Natai.

'Duchess, I have heard your plea,' he said in a calmer voice. 'You are correct that the Circle City is under my control and my subjects deserve my protection. I will find a way to kill or drive off this dragon, you have my word. For now, however, I will be left to my mourning.'

Mihn jammed his spade into the freshly turned earth and wiped the sweat from his face. The day was unusually bright for the time of year, but the brisk breeze that skipped off the glinting lake kept it cool. No birdsong cut the air, only the wind through the leaves and the rushes over at the water's edge. The smell of wet earth surrounded him.

'The day smells of hollow victories,' he said to the Land in general, finding solace in the words of others, 'a grave freshly dug, the rain on my cheek and a prayer in the air.'

'But who is it you pray to?' asked the witch of Llehden. He turned to see her standing behind him, her face shadowed from the late morning sun by a white mourning shawl. 'Myself, I find I do have not the strength for it.'

She carried an oak sapling in both hands, one recently pulled from the ground, to be planted over Xeliath's body in the Yeetatchen fashion.

'Yet you wear the devices of Gods on your mourning shawl,' Mihn pointed out, though he didn't recognise the images.

Her hand automatically went to the old brass brooches pinned to the shawl.

'They are Kanasis and Ashar, the local Gods of Llehden.'

'Aspects of Amavoq?'

She shook her head. 'Kanasis is a stag Aspect of Vrest and Ashar's the Lady of Hidden Paths, an Aspect of Anviss. The God of Woods is more welcome here than his queen and mistress. We prefer not to fear the creatures of the forest.'

Mihn snorted and looked around at the dark trees of Llehden. 'That's something of a surprise; these woods are as unfriendly after nightfall as the Farlan eastern forests.'