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ceremonial chalice that sat before one of the lower elders. It was filled with water. The high vassor flung the contents of the vessel in the direction of Lord Lyatt Kern, and the primus of the sapient order in the East, Nerus Vayjun, materialized behind him, where Prichard had seen the rippling air.
    â€œThus matters become clear,” said Prichard Hennis. “As clear as water. The primus has been steering this session all the while, using shadow crafts. The dark arts.” He stared at the primus, who was wiping water from his brow. “My mind has been mysteriously clouded of late, Primus. Was it your doing? I would have the truth, sir.”
    â€œShadow crafts have long been banned from this realm,” the king said. He raised a finger and waved it at the two Inner Guards stationed at the entrance. “Seize the primus at once.”
    The guards shouted orders through the entrance before moving toward the head sapient. In the next moment, five knights entered the room.
    â€œI hereby disband this Council, on grounds of treason,” the king said. He turned to the knights. “Take them all to the dungeon.”
    A great clamoring filled the room, and streams of curses and dire threats sailed in every direction as the knights hauled the ten men away.
    When Prichard Hennis was alone with the king and queen, he turned to them, bowed, and said, “I must speak with you concerning grave news that was brought to me by Primus Vayjun and the senior scout of the Outer Guard.”
    The storm clouds never did bring rain to Storms Reach.

W inds howled, and cold early morning rain whipped the faces of Jerreb and his three companions as they rode hard toward High Road. The narrow road that led there was turning to mud in places and made the ride hard going, but the knights’ able coursers and Ghendris’s massive black dray, which rivaled the Prybbian destriers, were undeterred and moved at a goodly pace.
    â€œBloody rain won’t let up,” cried Ellerick, who brought up the rear on the smallest of the three coursers.
    Sendin was just ahead of him, and the burly knight looked over his shoulder and gave Ellerick a fierce scowl. “There you go complaining again. Let it rest for a spell, boy. We can do with a break from your whining. I liked you more when there were six of us.”
    â€œI liked me more when there were six of us, too,” Ellerick muttered, drawing a hearty laugh from Ghendris, who was riding just ahead of Sendin.
    They rode another mile before coming to a fork in the road, where the left path became High Road and ended at Storms Reach, and the right path skirted Eastern Plain and continued to the provinces lorded by the vassors of East and South Court. Jerreb slowed his horse and signaled a stop. He looked in either direction and deliberated. Though the rain had washed away many of the tracks that had marked the split paths, he could see countless hoof prints in the dirt. The tracks not only indicated that a horde had marched north to High Court and Storms Reach but also confirmed that a smaller host, able to move at a faster pace than the first, was bound for lands that included his.
    â€œBy the looks of these tracks, I’d say our Dremsa plainsmen have broken into two groups,” said Jerreb, as he looked south. “I’m afraid Storms Reach will have to wait. I have to look in on my land.”
    â€œAye. The wife,” Sendin said.
    Ghendris, who had been studying the tracks on the rightward path, looked up. “To the netherworld with Killik. I’ll ride with you to Rivencrest to see about your fair bride, king’s man. If you like.”
    Jerreb turned his courser till he faced Ghendris. “I would like.”
    â€œThen let’s ride,” said Sendin, turning to offer a glance at Ellerick. The youth was blinking wildly as he looked up at the clouds through the rain, his face a mask of drenched anguish. “You coming, or should we