They arose at dawn, broke their fast and headed to the castle. Newstone was most unlike the traditional seat of power of Greystone or Randwulf's Darkwall. A proper city had sprung up around the castle. Many of the stonemasons, carpenters and other craftsmen working on the remodeling of the castle chose to settle here, bringing with them merchants, artisans and the like. It was poised to supplant Corinth as the hub of commerce in the kingdom, but the Corinthian merchants saw this coming and began moving their operations to the capital. It had come a long way from being a lonely garrison post at the crossroads.

The original Castle Branstock had been rather exposed on the open plains, but once it was decided that it would become the residence of the King, a trench was dug around the keep to serve as a moat. There was no drainage, though, as it was many miles to the river, and so the water in the moat was stagnant and stank fiercely. People would jest that the smell was the true wall defending the keep.

A flower garden was planted in the courtyard on the other side of the gate to offset this unpleasantness for new arrivals, but no flower was fragrant enough. Mark heard it was a rather miserable experience to man the walls and it became something of a punishment among the Royal Guard. Apparently at one point a patrician seeking favor spent a small fortune on aromatic resin that was dumped into the moat to no effect.

A guardhouse was set up atop the gate and, seeing Mark's entourage approach, a guard called out, "Who goes there?"

The herald shouted back, "Lord Mark of House Aran, answering the summons of His Majesty the King!"

They were met in the courtyard by Aristobulus the King's seneschal—though he preferred to style himself as 'majordomo'—, Donatus the Captain of the Guard, Wolfred the stablemaster, and several servants. Men of the court, especially the patricians, were known to be rather foppish, but Aristobulus was particularly effete. There were even rumors that he despised his manhood so that he was a self-made eunuch.

Taking the hem of his tunic in hand and curtseying as a woman would, Aristobulus said in a reedy voice, "In the name of His Majesty the King, greetings and welcome, Mark, Lord of Aran. The council awaits your presence."

And the last to be summoned, it would seem. There was the stink of courtly pettiness to it, but Mark was not going to concern himself with it.

Aristobulus held up a hand and said, "A moment, my lord. You and your entourage are to surrender your weapons at the guardhouse. Surely you have not forgotten that no blade is permitted in the royal presence."

It was a law created after Edward was killed, though it was a crossbow and not a blade that killed him. Too many of the Royal Guard had become creatures of the patricians since Old Siegfried died. Mark was more concerned about the blades in their hands than any others.

He simply nodded in assent and motioned for the six of them with arms to follow him to the guardhouse. Inside, a pair of Royal Guards stood watch over a storeroom where the weapons of the castle's guests were held under lock and key.

With a gesture from Aristobulus, the Guardsman with the key opened the storeroom. Mark went in first. There were several swords and axes in the weapons racks and quite a few daggers laid out on a table. Mark saw Sonia's ancestral blade, a rapier with fiery red gems embedded in the guard and pommel. He unhooked his scabbard and set his sword next to hers.

Although Mark had requested four men-at-arms, Sir Osric chose to select two knights and two men-at-arms, a knight and a man-at-arms from his own household troops and a matching pair from the Templars. First the knights, Sir Robert and Sir Christopher, surrendered their weapons, followed by the men-at-arms Edmer and John, and then Heinrich and Petrus.

Once that was done and the Guardsman was locking up, Mark asked him, "You there, what's your name?"

Mark looked at him, prompting him to straighten up and stammer, "I, ah, I mean, Her Ladyship of House Leon said the same thing about her blade when she came here yesterday."

In truth, Mark had not activated the enchantment where his sword would defend itself, striking any offending hand as if by lightning. He might have been accused of slighting his ancestors and their mission, but he did not want anyone harmed on account of the blade. If someone were bold and foolish enough to try to carry it off, its power would go dormant and it would just be an ordinary sword. He might even be glad to be rid of it. He was quite certain Sonia did not feel the same way, however, and that her threat was entirely genuine and not gently told either.

When they returned from the guardhouse, Mark sent Heinrich and Petrus off with Master Wolfred to tend to the horses while the servants took the baggage on to their rooms and the fighting men followed their lord inside. He had to part with his escort before entering the council chamber. They took up positions in the hallway alongside the Royal Guards and the attendants of the other lords. He saw some of his Templars from Cruz, led by Sir Honorius, who saluted him and said, "Pax tecum, magistre."

Aiken, the eldest son of Sonia's adoptive daughter Jill, a doughty young man clad in deerskins dyed green, doffed his cap and said, "Greetin's, milord."

The question was the traditional greeting among the forest folk of Rowan. As kin to Sonia, who had been accepted into their community, and as a companion of Jill's, Mark was himself regarded as nearly kin to the Rowanites.

This was a message from Sonia. She distrusted their reason for being here and expected some treachery. Why would she expect anything else from the capital?

Aiken simply nodded.

One of the Guardsmen at the door opened it and Aristobulus went on ahead to announce Mark.

Young Edric was seated at the head of the table, slouched in his usual pose of bored annoyance. Next to him were Lord Sergius and Captain Donatus, then there was Sonia, Bishop Alvinus, and the mayors of the Seven Cities.

Mark bowed to the King, saying, "Hail, Your Majesty. Hail, my lords and my lady."

Not all of the mayors were properly lords, but they were as good as lords by virtue of being counted among the Twelve Stewards and so, unlike Aristobulus, Mark did not distinguish between them.

Mark gave another slight bow and went to the open seat next to Lord Sergius. Across from him was Sonia, who he had not seen since last fall. The years had done little to temper her fierceness. Not even motherhood seemed to blunt her edge. Presently, she was giving him a rather critical look.

She was of course wearing the ancestral armor of her house, the candlelight glinting off the red gems in her broad pauldrons.

Lord Sergius cleared his throat.

"To this end, it has been decided that we shall dispatch an expedition to aid the Titians. We of course cannot suffer to weaken our own defense too greatly, so we will only contribute two hundred men of the Royal Army. For the rest of the number, there will be a levy of His Majesty's subjects. From Stormtree and Eagle, two hundred men each. From Corinth, Sandstone and Cruz, one hundred men each. And from Watercress and Rowan, fifty men each, all according to the tally of the census."

Mark was quite certain that even with all the Corinthians who had taken up residence in the capital, if Corinth was not the most populous city in Gladius, it was second to Eagle. There were certainly more people there than in Stormtree. Of course Lord Sergius would not place as heavy a burden on his home city, but Mark saw little to gain by disputing it.

A thousand gold crowns was nearly a king's price according to the old law. Stormtree in particular would feel the pinch of contributing two hundred of those gold crowns. Most of Rowan's offering would probably come from Sonia herself.

Mark noted well that these proceedings were not being treated as a true council of the Twelve Stewards, where the matters at hand were discussed and the Stewards gave their recommendations to the King before a decision was made. No, it was already decided and the Stewards were expected to do nothing else but execute the King's will. If this was all that would be done, it would have been better to simply issue the decree rather than summon them all here.

The way he emphasized 'my lady' made it quite plain that Lord Sergius did not appreciate treating with the lone woman in this council, especially not one so notoriously contrary and openly contemptuous of the patricians.

Sonia pounded her fist on the table.

He did not like to raise his voice, but she was about to go down a dangerous road. The questions surrounding Edward's death remained unanswered. It was more than just the one who loosed that fatal quarrel. Obviously there was a conspiracy behind it and it would not be surprising if some of those conspirators were in that very room. However, there was nothing to be gained by provoking them without evidence. There were no grounds to make an accusation and it would only make a target of her or worse, her daughter.

Mark's voice was perhaps the only one Sonia would heed and so she relented before the row could escalate any further.

Mark then said, "I will do this without complaint or dispute on one condition. For every man who dies on this adventure, I ask that his kin be paid the blood price. And for any who are maimed, that they be compensated in accord with the law."

Lord Radwald, the mayor of Stormtree, said, "In olden days, our chieftains would pay the weregild for their fyrdmen, so that service was not repaid with widows and orphans left destitute. My lord calls for the old ways, the ways of His Majesty's ancestors."

Lord Cuthbert of Cruz added, "It is written 'He that liveth by the sword dieth by the sword.' Would it not then be said that he that dieth for coin by redeemed by coin?"

The quotation was not quite accurate, but it had the desired effect with some mutters of assent from the others, excepting those of patrician stock, of course, who did not keep to the same traditions, and Bishop Alvinus, who strove to remain neutral in discussions except for where it touched on the faith and the faithful. Seeing this, the King chose not to remain passively observing and delegating all the responsibility to the Lord Regent as he was no doubt expected to do.

Clever of Lord Waldemar to get a word in before Lord Sergius. Now it would be more difficult for him to contradict the King and, savvy man that he was, he quickly seemed to decide it was not a battle worth fighting.

Though Sonia was hotheaded, she was mature enough to see that the concession Mark won ought not be wasted.

More than anything, she just wanted to be out of the capital. She and Mark were in total agreement there.

Lord Sergius nodded to the King, who rose from his seat. The assembled Stewards then rose and bowed as he withdrew, then they filed out from greatest to least. In the hallway, the waiting entourages fell in behind their lords.

Sonia walked alongside Mark and after they had gone a short distance, she said, "You gave in too easy, cousin."

Mark was as surprised that she would still nurse a grudge after all these years as he was not surprised. Had there ever been a pair that went together like oil and water so? Perhaps it was because they were so much alike. Proud, fiery-tempered, quick to turn to strength of arms and slow to forgive. Of course he had the good sense not to point out how much they had in common.

Sonia grinned.