obscene gesture at the nearest, all the while chuckling mightily.
‘A room I seem to belong in,’ Legana commented to her sisters. ‘I smell Gods and daemons in the room, and mages of all sorts.’
‘Daemons?’ Ardela said out loud in surprise. The man with his hood still raised flinched as she spoke and turned slightly to look at them askance. Whatever he saw he didn’t like and curled even further in on himself, but they caught sight of metal on his chest before he turned away. A soldier most likely.
‘Cursed. There’s a God and daemon inside him, fighting for control.’ Legana tilted her head and continued to stare at him. ‘Once a priest, I think. There’s something of Vrest about him.’
‘Most likely he’s Devoted then,’ Ardela murmured, ‘or leastways once was. Lots of them take Vrest’s orders when they get made up to officer rank, and they do like questing after daemons.’
Any further conjecture was prevented by the sound of boots coming down the staircase. The three women turned as more King’s Men descended, one a scowling white-eye carrying a long mace who Ardela guessed to be Coran, King Emin’s bodyguard. He was as big as any white-eye of the Palace Guard and just as brutal-looking. She doubted the man had ever been handsome, but his face was not so much scarred as battered, like that of an ageing prizefighter.
Coran’s expression darkened as he looked around the room. He had the sort of permanent scowl of a man vicious to the bone, no matter what company he kept. Ardela wondered if he saw his own face as a legitimate weapon, if he could hurt the other man with it; she’d met some - a few - like that, when the fight wasn’t fun if they both didn’t end up bruised and bloody.
As though to confirm Coran’s identity, a man came out onto the balcony a few seconds later beamed down at the assembled crowd. He wore a rusty-red hat adorned with peacock feathers and a black brigandine that echoed the peacock feather pattern. Ardela couldn’t see his much-described piercing blue eyes from the other side of the room, but since the second thing every report of the man mentioned was his infuriating, mocking smile, that she noticed easily enough.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming,’ he said in a clear, aristocratic voice. ‘As for my uninvited guests, this is a particular pleasure,’ he added with a slight bow.
‘I don’t like surprises,’ growled the dishevelled battle-mage, standing up. He spoke Farlan with a clipped accent that chopped up the rhythm of the words and made them ugly in the ears of a native speaker. ‘Uninvited guests ain’t a welcome one - and don’t get me started on him,’ he added vehemently, pointed an accusatory finger at the vagrant standing on one side.
‘Piss on you,’ the white-eye with the axe interjected, reaching for another jug of wine. ‘Stop your whining, Wentersorn, ’fore I cut your other one off.’ He jabbed a thumb behind him towards Legana. ‘Before anything, tell me about her. Who gets in without an invite?’
King Emin leaned forward on the balcony rail. ‘It is a fair question, but I doubt there’s much I could tell you of any accuracy - the Land is a different place since last we met. She is, however, welcome here as my guest so I would appreciate a little courtesy from all of you.’ He looked at Legana. ‘Lady, would you and your companions help yourselves to food? You will, I hope, forgive me if you have already heard any of this.’
When Legana had indicated her assent and Shanas had fetched them some stew, King Emin cleared his throat and started, ‘You all know what you’re good at, and what sort of job I generally have for you. Those who don’t know their companions can worry about that afterwards - you can all swap reputations, delightful nicknames and tales of adventure after I’ve finished. I need men I can trust to take orders, and if any of you have a problem with that, then best you say so now. After tonight, if you continue with us I’ll consider you part of the Narkang Army. Should you choose not to join us, I’ll have to insist you stay a while to ensure you can’t betray our plans, but you will be afforded every measure of hospitality and comfort, of course.’
The white-eye raised a hand to attract the king’s attention, making Ardela feel for a moment like