accompanying his grin. “Why are we speaking the pig-language, pray tell?”
“In deference to our guests.” Luralyn nodded at the Jade Princess. “And because our brother has ordained it be so.”
The young man’s gaze settled on the Princess for a time before moving on to Vaelin, whereupon his grin faded. “Can this really be him?” he asked, stepping past his sister to approach Vaelin, arms still crossed, an expression of mock incredulity on his face. “The Thief of Names? Surely not.” He shook his head. “I was going to beg my brother for the honour of killing you. Now I think I’ll leave it to one of my bastards. The oldest is about five, I think.”
Vaelin smiled and nodded before tightening his grip on Derka’s reins. The grey’s head abruptly jerked to the left, catching the young Stahlhast full in the face. He reeled away, letting out a yell accompanied by a gout of blood from a broken nose.
“Apologies,” Vaelin said, reaching forward to scratch behind Derka’s ears. “He’s young, still somewhat unruly.”
Babukir stood regarding him with blood streaming down his face, every inch of him quivering with the desire for immediate and violent revenge. However, he made no move to reach for the sabre at his waist. No harm to the Thief of Names. An injunction that apparently applied to all Stahlhast, regardless of blood or rank.
“Where is our brother?” Luralyn asked him, apparently indifferent to his injury.
Babukir’s eyes continued to blaze at Vaelin as he reached up to grasp his nose. “In communion,” he said, grunting with pain as he reset the bone with a quick shove. He snorted more blood and grinned again. “Feel free to disturb him, if you like.”
Vaelin watched Luralyn turn to regard a small grey structure beyond the two stone slabs. It was completely featureless save for a single open doorway. Her gaze lingered on that doorway for some time, fox-like features unreadable.
“Come,” she said finally, turning and beckoning to Vaelin and the two women. “It seems we have some time to wait. We might as well do it in comfort.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
Luralyn’s tent was one of only three within the monolithic circle. The other two were large and grand arrangements of hide and canvas, festooned with various banners, some, Vaelin noted, bearing Far Western script. Trophies from their recent battle, he concluded, remembering the blackened, corpse-strewn site to the south. Luralyn’s tent lacked any banners and was markedly smaller, albeit finely furnished with couches and tables that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Far Western palace.
The Princess immediately arranged herself in a languid pose on one of the couches, waving a hand at the two other people already present in the tent. “I will have tea, thank you.” The pair, a man and a woman of Far Western origins, exchanged glances before looking to Luralyn for guidance.
“This is Eresa and Varij,” she said. “They are not servants. If you wish tea, you’ll find a kettle and leaves in the adjoining tent. Make it yourself.”
“She has the Divine Blood,” Eresa, the Far Western woman, said. She regarded the Princess with a deep frown that mixed suspicion with a suppressed sense of awe. “I feel it . . .”
“I told you she was powerful,” Luralyn interrupted.
“Your brother,” Eresa went on, her frown becoming fearful. “He will feel it too . . .”
“As is expected. Stop worrying.” Luralyn looked at Vaelin. “We have a distraction for him. The Thief of Names is here after all.”
“Why is that so important?” Sherin asked.
“My brother is jealous of his name. And your arrival,” she added, turning to Vaelin, “has been long awaited.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Sherin said to the Jade Princess.
“Two warriors of great renown, both named the Darkblade.” The Princess shrugged her slender shoulders. “Did you imagine it was no more than an insignificant coincidence?”
“You said the Stahlhast warlord only has to hear your song for this all to be over.”
“I did. And for him to hear it the Thief of Names must also be here.”
“You didn’t . . .” Sherin trailed off, shooting a guarded look at Vaelin before speaking on. “You didn’t say I would be leading him to his death.”
“No, I didn’t. But I must confess surprise that you care.” The Princess got to her feet. “You know, I think I will try to brew some tea. It’s been several centuries since my last attempt.”
She made a suitably regal exit into the adjoining tent, leaving a thick silence in her