beliefs of more unenlightened cultures it requires no incantations, foul-smelling concoctions or blood spilled from unfortunate animals. In truth, as I had discovered in the years since the first manifestation of my gift, it requires only a secure and comfortable place rich in both peace and quiet. Consequently, I forsook the Cova encampment that night. The revels had begun early, customary propriety cast aside in the usual welter of drink, brain-addling snuff and undiscerning copulation.
Escorted by Kehlbrand and two of his most trusted saddle brothers, we left the din of the celebration behind and rode beyond the sprawl of tents and out into the vastness of the Iron Steppe. A five-mile ride under the stars brought us to a small rise in the otherwise unbroken flatness of the landscape. The two warriors pitched a tent atop the rise, attached the reins of their horses to their wrists with long ropes and retreated to a respectful distance. One faced east, the other west. Both had their strongbows unlimbered with an arrow nocked. I knew not if Kehlbrand had told them what would occur this night, but also knew if he had, they would also never speak of it. Loyalty was absolute amongst those who secured his friendship.
“In case you get bored,” I said, handing Obvar’s wineskin to Kehlbrand.
“Ah,” he said after a small sip, eyebrows raised in appreciation. “I know this. Made from a fruit called a grape by barbarians across the Wide Sea. They reside in a kingdom beset by endless wars and irrational superstitions.” He set the wineskin down next to the small fire he had lit. “They’ll be glad of the peace we bring them in time.”
“You intend to ride so far?”
“I intend to ride all the way around the world. For have not the priests foretold this as the course of the Mestra-Skeltir?”
I rolled my eyes at him and crawled into the tent. “Don’t finish it all.”
I divested myself of my oxen leather garb and lay on the furs his saddle brothers had set down for me. As ever the wind was stiff on the Steppe and the tent walls snapped continually. It was a familiar refrain and failed to disturb me as I sought the peaceful mind-state that would bring on the black veil and the True Dream.
After my first experience I had shunned my gift for a long time, fearful of what I might find once the veil parted. But curiosity, perhaps the hardest of all habits to break, eventually compelled me to seek it out. My attempts had been faltering at first; the True Dream brought brief glimpses of places and people so alien in dress and speech that whatever message I had been sent became meaningless. It was only after much experimentation that I discovered that the True Dream requires a purpose, a question to guide it towards truth.
My brother’s name, I whispered inwardly as the black veil descended. What is it?
The veil duly parted and I found myself standing atop a low rise, tall grass whispering in an evening breeze. The sky had the darkened hues of twilight and I could see many fires burning in the shallow depression below. An army, I realised, taking in the sight of the veritable city of tents clustered around campfires where men sat or stood. Their armour and weapons were stacked, the design very different to the black iron breastplates and chain mail of the Hast. These consisted of the overlapping steel plates and curve bladed spears of soldiers in service to the Merchant Kings. It was the largest host I had ever seen, thousands upon thousands strong.
“Who are you?”
I started at the sound of another voice. The woman stood a dozen paces away, her appearance greatly surprising in its sheer unfamiliarity. Her garb, a simple ankle-length robe of black featuring a small white flame sigil on the breast, was not one I had seen before. Also, her features were different in shape and colouring to the people of the Merchant Realms, more like the Stahlhast with their blue eyes and pale skin. But what surprised me most, in fact shocked me, was that she was looking directly at me. She saw me.
“Who are you?” she repeated, gaping at her surroundings with wide and fearful eyes. “Where am I?”
I could only stare, dumbfounded. Never once during any previous True Dream had any of its denizens taken note of my presence. How could they? I wasn’t actually here.