of papers on which he was writing notes. The king had been expecting his arrival for a few days now; this was his uncle, Anversis Halis, an academic who had been recording and modelling the movements of the Harlequins for years.
Only recently had the king become interested in the work, though he was aware of most of the research being conducted within his borders, interesting or otherwise. It wasn’t the first time the king had been able to harness knowledge of this kind for military use. Legana didn’t know if they all got guards, but the king had been less than complimentary about his uncle’s discretion, so she guessed it was as much to keep him out of trouble as anything else.
Legana made her way over and stood in silence at the table until Halis noticed her.
He gave a gasp of shock. ‘Blessed song of seasons!’ he exclaimed, half-falling off his chair. But he soon recovered himself and it wasn’t long before Halis was peering up at her face with utter fascination. ‘You, ah, you are . . .’ he stuttered.
Legana inclined her head and the words died unsaid in his throat, but the acknowledgement didn’t appear to diminish his curiosity. He even went so far as to edge around the table to get a little closer, but that just prompted Legana to back away.
— Stop staring or I’ll blind you, she wrote on her slate eventually.
The man gave a squawk and retreated to his seat. ‘Ah, my apologies, Mistress Legana. There are so many questions running through my head that I hardly know where to begin.’
Legana scowled, her fingers flexing around the silver head of her cane. It took a while, but the man eventually got the message that she was not going to answer questions and turned his attention back to the map.
‘Ah, here is the working plan. The, um, subjects follow a reasonably simple path through the Land, as one might expect. They are only human, after all, and they are subject to the same habits as the rest of us.’
— How many?
‘In total?’ Halis frowned at her. ‘It is impossible to tell for sure. King Emin assures me they have home clans and will return there periodically, but for how long is impossible to calculate, as is the incidence of their passing being reported to me.’
— How is that done?
He glanced away uneasily at the king, but at that moment Legana’s balance failed her again and she swayed forward, grabbing the table with both hands to steady herself. Halis went even whiter and raised his hands protectively, as though she was going to strike him.
‘A network of academics throughout the Land,’ Halis blurted out, misreading her actions entirely. ‘They study the writings of Verliq and aid the research of their fellows wherever possible.’
‘And what kind fellows they are too,’ added King Emin, joining them. He looked at her, concerned, but she waved it away and he didn’t comment further.
‘You will have heard of Verliq’s Children, I assume? As I have reminded my uncle here, my patronage and assistance over the years has been invaluable to them, and I fully expect them to be delighted to assist our midsummer operation.’
‘Delighted?’ spluttered Halis.
King Emin raised a hand to stop him saying any more. ‘I choose to believe they are delighted. They are, of course, not men of action, but I want this to be kept separate from my principal spy network, which has quite enough to keep it busy at present. To bolster numbers Legana has agreed to recruit for me among her sisters, both for the operation itself and the logistics of putting it into practice.’
— How many?
‘To kill? Our aim is a hundred; we know we will not get them all, but that should still disrupt this current phase of the shadow’s plan.’ Emin pursed his lips in thought and stared down at the map. ‘I have had news from Byora; we were not successful in our goal. At the same time it was not a complete disaster, and our casualties were acceptable.’ He hesitated. ‘You can tell your sisters that the killer of their Goddess is dead.’
Legana felt her knees tremble and another wave of dizziness washed over her, but she fought it, and managed to keep herself upright. Aracnan was dead. She had been expecting this news at some point, ever since Doranei’s comrade, Sebe, had managed to wound the mercenary, but still the news caught her off-guard.
Anger and satisfaction clashed inside her. There