Publisher's Synopsis
"A battle for power and survival in a world of magic and betrayal."
The day after the duel, Kjell had found himself in yet another of Lord Bremond's "private meetings." As he entered, a few others followed: Lady Rieux; Lady Larkain and her son, Jarlath; Baron D'Orsay and his two sons; and Lady Gildern and several other nobles whose names escaped Kjell at the time. The room was small and windowless, lit only by an occasional glow of candlelight from one corner. It smelled strongly of herbs, as it always did when Lord Bremond held court. A fire burned brightly against the far wall, but there was little heat to be felt in the chamber despite the blaze that burned behind the fireplace. Lord Bremond stood before them all, staring into the flames as if looking for answers there, and he seemed deep in thought or meditation. He finally turned back toward the audience and cleared his throat before beginning to speak. He paused briefly for effect, then went on: "We are at war with our neighbors to the south. We know this for certain now, my friends. I have spoken to Lord Varen myself about this matter, who confirms that we must act soon if we hope to stop these raiders. There is still some talk of peace between us," he said, nodding toward Lord Varen, seated across the table from him on a chair made of oak that might as well have been iron as far as its hardness were concerned. "Lord Varen says that our best chance lies in continuing to hold out until the coming of spring. Then they will lose their interest in raiding and seek a warmer climate for the winter months." There was a moment of silence.
