At the foot of the Balck rock, Ismene performed some illusory deception on the guard so that he'd appeared not to see him at all. He'd watched with interest as her instruction to leave the prisoner in solitude until the Isdar sent for him was met with only a meek nod and the words, 'Yes, Visier.'

How far did such a skill stretch, he wondered? He knew abilities varied between Visier's; their strength and mastery dependent on the mind that wielded them. Some Visier's were cursed as he was, with only visions. Others had the faculty of influence, rarer still was the aptitude for illusion. Had his own abilities altered with the High One's succession? He felt the same.

After dealing with the guard Ismene allowed him to help her up into the saddle behind him, and she moved to hand him the strap of the harness. Nux was pleased to see him, whinnying softly as he ran his palm over her forelock and whispered a gentle greeting against her ear.

Ismene held onto him less forcefully than Fara, even as they'd raced at speed toward the lip of the stone island and took to the air over its blustery black coastline. When they were high above the trees of Qias he turned Nux south toward the capital.

It was not long before it appeared ahead of them, its lights flickering like candles against the night sky. Guiding Nux slowly into land, he chose a stretch of field east of the large villa, riding south to the edge of the Sacress grove which enclosed the Isdar's land. He had to hope that Orrin remained at Court. He had the Ceremony of The Rites to oversee, Panos of Calate to interrogate, his own trial to arrange. But if he was not...

'Who resides here?' Asked Ismene as he climbed down from the saddle.

'A friend I hope,' he told her. 'It is best you stay here with the Varveh, I do not know what I may encounter inside.' They were far enough away from the stables that the other Varveh should not scent them and whinny-- he'd chosen a precise spot beyond the pungent sacress field for this reason-- but it meant a sprint to the terrace at speed, which Ismene could not hope to match him in.

'Then it is best you best take me with you,' she said, already unfastening herself from the saddle. 'My assistance may be all that saves you from a return to the Balck Rock.'

He could not argue against her logic. For if Orrin was inside then Ismene's presence meant he would not require any kind of force.

'You would be prepared to confront the Isdar to save me?'

She slid down from the saddle and froze, glancing behind him. 'This is Orrin's residence?' She looked uncertain for a moment as she took in the large estate.

'It is.'

Some look of steely resolve settled on her face as she nodded. 'All the more reason why I should accompany you.'

'Why are you doing this?' He asked again, studying her closely. 'Why are you assisting me?' For it was about more than freeing her from her gilded cage, of this he was certain.

She averted her eyes from his and smoothed out the creases of her gown. 'I told you, I have my reasons.' When she caught the look on his face she narrowed her eyes. 'I am certainly not here because I enjoy your company, warrior, if that is what you are inferring.'

'Gods, certainly not. My mind has not gone yet to madness.'

She made a 'hmph' noise but he was sure he caught a small sliver of a smile tug at one corner of her mouth before it disappeared.

'Let us go,' she said impatiently. 'There is no way to know if the weave I placed upon the Balck guard will hold; each mind is a different landscape. Or mayhaps the Isdar will send for you before it fades.'

She proceeded ahead of him toward the villa, moving soft of foot over the turned soil through a neat row of sacress vine. These vines would produce the sweetest darkwine in all of Leoth come sunwaine. The scent was already heady; thick syrupy sweetness which flooded his nose and watered his tongue.

He hurried after her, careful not to damage any of the budding seedlings as he went.

Vala's chamber could be accessed by a wide verandah which anchored out from one corner of the painted villa. He had used it many times before to gain access to her rooms, but always with invitation, and always knowing she would welcome his presence. This time he was sure neither was true.

He found the lowest point where a rope of red wintercress twisted decoratively around the brushed stone and hauled himself up and over the balustrade onto the terrace. Then he turned to aid Ismene. The Primed studied the climb with a furrowed brow, before finally lifting her pale eyes to his, defeated. Without a word, he reached out his hand and helped lift her onto the terrace. She did not thank him, but instead lifted her chin somewhat haughtily and pressed her lips tight as she turned and headed toward the entrance.

He moved to pull her back with a light touch on her arm.

'I would prefer it if you waited here,' he said quietly. 'If your... assistance.. is required I shall call for you.' Her imperious glare demanded an explanation, one he did not particularly wish to give her. 'Our last meeting was difficult. I was...' he searched for the words.

'Self-important, cocksure, selfish?' She suggested.

'Cruel,' he said. 'Needlessly so.'

She looked mildly surprised before nodding her acquiescence.

He moved to the entryway and paused just at the threshold. Vala was inside or had recently been. He could scent her, strongly. Sucking in a breath, he stepped inside.

The chamber was empty. Candles burned on the bedside and on a tall stand near the door. No fire burned for the south was a humid place this far into Aerta. He heard a soft shuffle of movement behind him and tried to turn.

Too late. He felt the sword press against his lower back through his cloak and tunic, another brought smoothly around his throat. His first thought was that Orrin had discovered him gone and laid a trap for him. Someone stepped in close and pressed a mouth to his ear.

'Do not move or I shall sever your spine with a flick of my wrist,' came the voice, low with warning. Vala's. He let out a relieved breath.

'Vala, it is I.'

'I know it is you,' she hissed. 'Have you come to kill me too? Did you truly think to find me a willing victim?'

'Of course I have not come to kill you.'

He could feel her heart beating quick and hard through the fabric of his cloak, feel her breath fast panic. As he attempted to turn he felt a push between his shoulder blades and was thrust forward clumsily.

He held out his arms in supplication and turned slowly to face her. Vala was armed with both her longswords; one raised at chin height, the other lower but still primed for attack. She stared at him wordlessly for many moments, her eyes bright with a myriad of emotion. He knew and recognised each one. Fury, anguish, despair.

'I did not come to hurt you, Vala' he said in a gentle voice.

'Then you came for Orrin? You cannot possibly think I will allow you to harm my brother?'

He gave her a sad smile. 'I know you would not. But neither is that why I am here.'

'Then why are you here, Theodan?' Her voice was hot but her eyes swam with pain. They were rimmed with red, dark circles hanging like shadows below. 'For you should be in the Balck Rock awaiting your fate.'

When he reached up she shot forward and thrust her sword toward him in warning. Holding her eye, he carefully, gently, pushed back his hood. Her gaze seemed to soften a little, tenderness seeping through the stone.

'Vala,' he took a deep breath. 'I did not do this. In your heart, you know that I did not.'

She smirked, but it was laced through with pain. 'And I suppose you know my heart well as you were its gatekeeper long enough, were you not?'

Guilt lashed at him but he held her eye firm.

'I am sorry,' he said. 'In my disregard for your heart, I am forever shamed, I know this. If I could go back and alter the words I spoke to you, I would. I thought it was a kindness, for I knew--have always known--I could never be the male you desired me to be, but I see now that it was not kindness which moved my tongue but something else, something selfish.' He hung his head. 'I see now that it is what my father would have said. For the pain I caused you, Vala, I am sorry.' When he lifted his head again he saw that something had softened in her eyes. Emboldened, he moved a small step closer to her. 'I am not asking you to forgive me, only to trust me, to believe me: I did not do this.'

One beat, another, then a third. Slowly, she lowered her swords and rested them by her sides.

'The High Visier is dead,' she said, distraught. 'The council believe you killed her.'

'It does not matter what they believe,' he said. 'It matters what you believe.'

Her stare lifted and bore into him. He felt every shard of the pain he had caused her and he welcomed it, would have taken it all upon himself if he could. His heart felt cold as stone as he waited for her answer.

'I did not believe it, not truly.' She closed her eyes and shook her head. 'But my heart has fooled me over and over again where you are concerned, I did not trust it.'

'It does not fool you now, I swear it.'

Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at him, nodding. 'I know it does not.'

Relief flooded him, as did a rush of tenderness towards her.

'I have never been worthy of you or your heart, Vala,' he said after a moment. He had ever been unworthy of the women who had moved through his life, his mother included.

Ishilde's love for her children was her destruction. It was grief which destroyed her.

And what had he wrought from her sacrifice? Nothing. Nothing of note or worth.

'Why are you so afraid of being loved?' She asked him, her voice raw.

The words felt like a whip across his back. He stiffened, awaiting the next strike. It never came. Neither did the response she awaited.

'What were you thinking, coming here?' She asked instead. 'They will be looking for you everywhere.'

'With His Grace, they do not yet realise I am gone.'

'Well when they do they shall send The Menodice to every corner of the realm to hunt you, and you will look guiltier than you did before,' she moved to place her swords down on the tall chest at the foot of the bed, then sat down in a long chair close to the unlit fire.

'Once I have done what I must, I shall leave Leoth.'

'And where will you go?'

'First to Azura. To the Gelder Mountains; I shall find Corryn Vane and his men.'

She paled, her face crumpling in horror. 'Corryn Vane will kill you upon sight, Theodan, you cannot truly be considering such madness.'

'The Sun Kin were no supporters of Sylvan's rule, I expect I shall find them less murderous than your brother and the Menodice.'

'Supporters of the blood rule or no, you cannot truly think they will welcome you? You killed Azurian men Theodan, a great many of them. We are still at war, or have you forgotten?'

He'd done a great deal more than that.

'Things have changed,' he said simply. 'And The Oath of Valka is stronger than realm or blood, Vala. I do not go to them as Leoth's commander but as a deserter with something to offer them-- something they will find hard to refuse.'

'And what might that be?' Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'I would never betray Leoth,' he stated for he could see where her mind had journeyed. 'Everything I do, I do for the realm.' And Fara. 'Because I still believe in a better path.'

'Then what do you speak of? What have you to offer them but your head?'

'Torrik of Zybar's head.'

She stared at him aghast. 'Have you truly lost your mind? Zybar is our ally. You may despise them Theodan, but a pact was made, signed by each member of the council. You yourself signed it!'

So Orrin had told her nothing. Not a whisper of what had reached the council's ears. She still believed she would be gifted to Torrik's heir.

'The pact is dead Vala,' he said. 'King Valdr of Calate is to marry the princess Dura; the treaty is broken.'

She let out a small gasp and brought her hand to her mouth. Her eyes were shining and wide, tears glimmered. Relief?

'Then I...?' Her voice was a thin whisper. "I am not to...?'

He shook his head. 'No.'

She closed her eyes and muttered a soft payer. But they opened a moment later, panicked. 'Orrin has said nothing of this. How do you know it to be certain?'

'The Wyndove. A message arrived two moons past.' Leoth's spies in Calate had written of the king's retinue moving southwest towards Alathy. Word too of Torrik's movement east. He'd already suspected Zybar's treachery when Jhaan had relayed to him the detail of Calate's attack on the beach. It had been done with Zybar's involvement, he was certain of it. 'The Prince of Calate confirmed it,' he added.

'The Prince spoke of it?'

'To Fara, yes.'

Vala's gaze sparked at the very mention of her name. She stood and began to pace across the chamber, biting her lip hard. She stopped pacing and turned to him, her eyes grave and careful.

'The princess knows much about us Theodan. Our council, our laws, our lands. You. And you gifted her back into our enemies hands. We are weaker for it, surely you see this?'

'She will not betray us,' he said.

She gave him a look as though she did not recognise him. 'How can you be so certain of her loyalty?'

He did not like how the question made him feel. 'She warned of Zybar's treachery,' he told her. 'She did not know I was already aware of it.'

'A worthless offering. She knew it would not have remained secret long. Likely it was part of her brother's terms for us.'

He shook his head. 'She does not want Leoth's end. Neither does she want her people dragged further into a needless war.'

A look flitted over Vala's eyes, something like pity. He did not care for it.

'But war cannot be avoided,' she said. 'Not now. Zybar's treachery will be repaid. If Calate is with them do you truly believe she will not stand against us? Who's side will you stand on then?'

Her implication was clear.

'I would never take up arms against Leoth,' he stated. 'You know I would not.'

'Then you are prepared to face her across a battlefield? To slay more of her people? Her king, her brother?'

His ribs felt tight suddenly. A small distant hope still glimmered that this war could be avoided, that he could find a route through this without destruction of Calate and her armies, but if not... he was reminded of the vision. Bodies strewn endlessly across the battlefield, broken, bloodied. Had that indeed been Fara screaming? Her despair piercing the air?

'I will not allow it to come to that,' he vowed.

Silence stretched between them, thick and weighty, before Vala spoke to fill it.

'What is it you need from me Theodan? For you need something. It is why you came, is it not?'

'T'is not the only reason I came,' he said. 'But yes, I do need your help. Though you should know before I ask it of you, that your brother will not like it.'

'Of course he will not,' she sighed. 'Speak it.'

'The Prince of Calate,' he said. 'Where are they keeping him, and how many of your men will follow you without question?'

A look moved into her eyes, hopeless almost. 'It appears she was quite correct,' she said quietly. 'The heart does indeed make slaves of us all...'