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may be all around us…God knows； I'm last to argue against it after what I've seen this cursed year…but not here in the Hayholt。
Guthwulf knew the castle had belonged to the Fair Folk once； many hundreds of years ago； but now it was so wound about with spells and charms against them that surely there was no other spot on earth in which they were less wele。
No； he thought； it is the way the king has changed that fills my mind with strange thoughts： how Ellas shifts from moment to moment； from lunatic anger to childish worry。
He walked to the door at the end of the hallway and out into the courtyard。 Everything was as he had last seen it。 A solitary light burned in one of the windows across the garden； in the king's private rooms。
Elias is awake。 He pondered this for a moment。 He has not slept well since Josua first began plotting against him。
Guthwulf strode across the courtyard toward the king's residence； the unseasonable breeze frisking about his bare ankles。 He would talk to his old friend Elias； here in the empty hours of night when men told the truth。 He would demand to know about Pryrates and about the horrible army Elias has summoned； the host that had e down on Naglimund like a plague of white locusts。 Guthwulf and the king had been rades in arms too long for the earl to allow their friendship to fall apart like rusting armor。 Tonight they would talk。 Guthwulf would find out just what dire troubles caused his old rade to act so strangely。 It would be their first chance in a year to speak without Pryrates hovering close by； watching with those black ferret's eyes； listening to every word。
The courtyard doorway was locked； but the great key Elias had given him on his succession to the throne still hung on a cord around Guthwulf s neck。 His soldier's practicality had not allowed him to take it off； even though it had been many months since Elias had called on him to undertake a secret mission。
The locks had not been changed。 The heavy door swung inward without a sound； Guthwulf was grateful for that； although he did not know why。 As he mounted the stairs toward the king's residence； he was astonished to find not even a single guard in place before the inner door。 Was Elias so sure of his power that he did not even fear assassination？ Surely that did not accord with his behavior since he had returned from the siege of Naglimund？
At the top of the stairs Guthwulf heard muffled voices。 Suddenly full of misgivings； he leaned forward； placing his ear near the keyhole。
He frowned。 I should've known； he thought sourly。 I would recognize Pryrates' jackal…barking anywhere。 Curse the unnatural bastard； can he give the king no peace？
As he debated whether he should knock； he heard the king's low murmur。 A third voice froze Guthwulfs hand in midair； knuckles poised before the doorframe。
This last voice was high…pitched and sweet； but there was something alien in its tone； something inhuman in its music。 It acted on his senses like a plunge in cold water； bringing up the hair on the back of his arms and setting a shiver into his breath。 He thought he recognized the words 〃sword〃 and 〃mountains〃 before the numbing fear overcame him。 He stepped back from the door so quickly he almost tumbled down the stairs。
Have those hell…things e here？ he wondered。 He wiped his sweating palms on his nightshirt and retreated a step down from the landing。 What devil's work is this？ Has Elias lost his mind？ His soul？
The voices rose in volume； then the door squeaked as someone lifted the inside bolt。 All thought of confronting Elias gone； the Earl of Utanyeat knew only that he did not want to be found listening at the keyhole…did not want to meet the thing that spoke so strangely。 He looked around distractedly for a place to hide； but the staircase was narrow。 He vaulted down the steps in a rush； but had only just reached the outer door when he heard footsteps on the landing above。 Guthwulf ducked into the alcove beneath the stairway； pushing himself back into the shadows as the steps creaked。 Two figures； one more distinct than the other； paused in the doorway。
〃The king is pleased with this news；〃 Pryrates was saying。 The darker shape beside him said nothing。 A smear of white face gleamed in the depths of its dark hood。 Pryrates stepped through the door； his scarlet garments showing deep violet…blue in the moonlight as he pivoted his bald head this way and that； looking carefully。 A shadow followed him out into the garden。
Anger suddenly rose inside Guthwulf； overwhelming even his unreasoning fear。 That the master of Utanyeat should cower under stairs…and from something that the cursed priest treated as panionably as a country uncle！
〃Pryrates！〃 Guthwulf cried； stepping out from beneath the stairway。 〃I would have a word with you 。。。〃
The earl's slippered feet crunched to a halt on the gravel。 The priest stood before him； alone in the middle of the path。 The wind sighed in the hedges； but there was no other sound； no other movement but the faint rippling of leaves。
〃Earl Guthwulf；〃 Pryrates said； wrinkling his hairless brow in apparent surprise； 〃what are you doing out here？ And at such an hour。〃 He looked Guthwulfs costume up and down。 〃Have you had trouble sleeping？〃
〃Yes 。。。 no 。。。 damn you； priest； that's not important！ I was just on
my way to see the king！〃
Pryrates nodded。 〃Ah。 Well； I've just left His Majesty。 He's just taken his sleeping draught； so whatever you desire to speak of should wait until morning。〃
Guthwulf looked up at the mocking moon； then around the courtyard。 It was empty but for the two of them。 He felt dizzy； betrayed by his own senses。 〃You were alone with the king？〃 he asked at last。
The priest stared at him for a moment。 〃But for his new cupbearer； yes。 And a few body…servants in the outer rooms。 Why？〃
The earl felt the last bit of ground sliding from beneath his feet。 〃Cupbearer？ That is； I just wanted to know 。。。 I thought。。。〃 Guthwulf struggled to regain his poise。 〃There's no guard posted on that door。〃 He pointed。
〃With such a doughty warrior as yourself stalking the gardens；〃 Pryrates smiled； 〃there is scarce need for one…but you are correct。 I will speak to the chief constable about it。 Now； if you'll excuse me； my lord； I must go to my narrow bed。 1 have had a long； wearying day of statecraft。 Good night。〃
With a swirl of his robe； the priest turned and walked away； vanishing in a cluster of shadows at the far side of the courtyard。
The traveler's spirit came back to him as he rode through the endless snows； but his name did not。 He could not remember how he came to be riding the horse； or if the beast was his。 Neither did he know where he had been； or what had happened to cause the dreadful pain that ran through his body； twisting and crippling his limbs。 He knew only that he must ride on toward a spot behind the horizon； following a curved seam of stars that burned in the northwestern skies at night。 He could not remember what place he would find there。
He stopped only seldom for sleep： the ride itself was a kind of waking dream； a long white tunnel of wind and ice that