with Ranah and Temal, it is not my domain. If they do indeed intend us harm, let that come about before they discover Count Vesna’s new allegiance.’
‘I take your point,’ Vesna admitted. He sighed and touched his black-iron fingers to the sword on his hip. ‘It will be easily done, but let’s hope it won’t come to that.’
Riding ahead with a battle-scarred squad of Ghosts on each side, the three veterans did not speak until they passed through the advance companies of troops. They found themselves at an inn where Suzerain Temal and Scion Ranah were waiting. It was a big place, a three-storey stone building overlooking the single bridge across a tributary of the River Farsen, which cut through the heart of Tirah.
Soldiers were all around, and Vesna could see the inn’s serving girls were struggling to meet the demand just from the hurscals. The more he looked, the more troops he saw — mainly light cavalry, of course, but also what appeared to be a division’s worth of archers and spearmen.
‘Good morning Suzerain Torl, General Lahk,’ called Suzerain Temal, rising from his seat at a round stone table on one side of the inn named after it. He spared Vesna a look, but nothing more, making it clear he did not expect the lower-ranked man to speak until invited to do so. Vesna might be a hero, and Isak’s right-hand man, but he was still a count, and ranked below both suzerains and generals. ‘Please, join us in a cup of wine.’ Palms upturned, Temal had pointedly dispensed with the usual formalities, something Vesna hoped was a good sign. That he was excluding Vesna was no great surprise; a suzerain had the right to speak only to his peers if he so chose, and if Vesna didn’t speak, it was less likely Ranah would either.
The suzerain was a man of nearly forty summers. He had a welcoming smile. He wore his sword on his right hip because a childhood injury had robbed him of most of the use in his right hand. He’d not joined the army when Lord Isak had called his nobles because of it, but Vesna had heard he was a fair left-handed swordsman all the same.
Torl and Lahk dismounted and returned the suzerain’s greeting. Vesna followed them. He had no intention of speaking until addressed, but the hatred on Scion Ranah’s face made it obvious he’d be easy to provoke, whilst keeping within the bounds of protocol. Ranah disliked Vesna intensely — a matter of principle more than anything else. The fact that Vesna had seduced the scion’s sister was less of concern than Ranah made out; in truth, he was jealous.
Ranah was a handsome man, and his unusually light hair made him striking among the dark Farlan. He was also a talented warrior, and he coveted Vesna’s reputation more than he did his octogenarian father’s seat. Count Vesna was the man Ventale Ranah was trying hard to be, but his exploits thus far had earned only his father’s scorn, and he’d been completely ignored by the storytellers.
A man easily provoked into rashness, Vesna though as he reached for a cup and poured himself some wine.
‘The invitation did not extend to you, Count Vesna. Your jewels are better-suited to a whorehouse than a table of peers,’ Scion Ranah snapped.
‘Suzerain Temal,’ Vesna said, raising his cup in toast and ignoring Ranah, whose outburst had permitted him to join the conversation. Temal would have to keep control of Ranah or lose face. ‘We would be glad for a chance to sit down and discuss the state of the Land with peers.’ He drained the cup and smiled. ‘But in the interests of harmony I suggest you send the boy away before his mouth gets him into mischief — unless it’s mischief you intend?’
Before Ranah’s coughs of fury could resolve into a challenge, Temal drained his own cup and raised a hand to stop the scion speaking.
‘We do not intend mischief, I assure you; we are all nobles of the Farlan, after all. However, Count Vesna, perhaps a less antagonistic tone might be politic? I hardly think “boy” is the right description for a man only five summers younger than you.’
Vesna shrugged off the reprimand, deserved as it was. As a count he outranked Ranah, at least until the man inherited his father’s suzerainty, and Vesna intended to make full use of that. ‘The last time I met the scion he was less than gracious towards me.