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booming sounds continued to echo across the River as Leith and Maendraga bade a cordial farewell to the Pei-ratin navigator. None of the others in the canoe acknowledged their departure, reminding Leith yet again that the agreement to take the two outsiders to Instruere had not been universal. Leith turned to the scene before him.
    'Just let us across this bridge, boy, and that'll be the end of it!' snapped the leader of the traders. Leith's head jerked up, all else suddenly forgotten. 'We'll take the risk, if risk there is, if this isn't just a story to keep us out of the city.' Leith plunged forward along the riverbank towards the bridge, ignoring Maendraga's surprised cry.
    'I've told you, none can cross today,' a bored voice replied. 'We are not prepared to expose visitors to our fair city to any risk until we've ascertained the nature of the problem—'
    'Leaving us out here is a risk! What if it rains again like it did last night?' the trader yelled back.
    By now Leith was sure, even though he could not yet see the speaker clearly. He filled his lungs with air, ready to shout - and at that moment an enormous boom shook the ground and knocked him off his feet. On hands and knees he turned towards Instruere. A great sheet of flame erupted from behind the walls. A second boom rang out, then a third, and slowly, ponderously, the Struere Gate collapsed into a pile of rubble.

CHAPTER 2
TANGHIN AND DEORC

    DEORC, LORD OF INSTRUERE, settled into his austere, high-backed chair. He'd destroyed the red velvet monstrosity used by his predecessor. A palpable sign of weakness, one of many the overrated fool had allowed to cloud his judgment. The Arkhos of Nemohaim had not come through his last visit to Andratan at all well, his ambition and arrogance all too obvious even to Deorc, let alone to the subtle devices of the Master of All. The Undying Man told Deorc the Arkhos would need replacing. He'd had the fat man thrown out, just like he'd disposed of the red chair. A momentary twitch of unease spoiled his benign mood. Not quite like the red chair. While he'd set flame to the chair the Arkhos had used, the man himself continued to evade him. But not forever, the Destroyer's lieutenant told himself. The harrowing of Instruere was at hand, and eventually the hiding place of the Arkhos of Nemohaim would be revealed, along with many other things.
    He leaned back, content with his day's work, and admired his favourite trophy. On the wall, hanging from chains, placed for him alone to see, was Stella, the northern girl. He knew his master would not exactly approve of the decoration, since he had said she was to be kept for his arrival, but if pressed Deorc would explain that the arrangement was part of the breaking process. It had certainly been effective. The struggling, arguing and weeping had passed into a sort of numb acceptance, and soon she would begin to believe she deserved this kind of treatment. Then it would be only a matter of time until the self-hatred surfaced; and at that point she would agree to whatever her master demanded of her. Perhaps she might even be returned to her former friends - if they still lived - to be eyes and ears for the Undying Man. He had seen such things before, had been party to them.
    Time for reflection later, the Lord of Instruere told himself. The Ecclesia was due to meet soon, and they would expect Tanghin there to offer his words of wisdom. He wouldn't disappoint them, he thought as he rose and pulled on his cloak.
    'I'm off to preach to your friends,' he taunted the girl. 'Do you have a message for them?' She turned her face towards him, but no reply came from her, and soon her dull eyes turned inward again. He laughed shortly, eased on his calf-high boots and strode from the room.

    As soon as the heavy wooden door closed and the noise of the bolt sliding home died down, the dullness faded from Stella's eyes. She could touch the floor if she stretched her toes, though it sent agonising waves of