“I think I can change some of that,” said Kellen. “I understand what they want—thanks to my uncle.” He nodded at Alizon. “I can convince some of them that they’ll be better off following me—and every man in this room knows that even a thousand more men might make the difference between winning and losing. I’m going to bring the Hurogmeten”—he gestured at me—“and that will help as well.”

Farrawell’s mouth dropped open. “He’sthe Hurogmeten?He’s too young to be the Shavig Giant.”

I bowed to the room in general. “You were busy when I came in—allow me to introduce myself. I am Wardwick of Hurog.”

Danerra gave me a thoughtful look I saw echoed in several other faces. “That just might work,” he said. “I wouldn’t have thought so until I met him—but the Shavig Giant’s a hero in Oranstone.”

Garranon watched my face and grinned suddenly. “We Oranstonians are a musical people,” he explained to me. “There are twenty or thirty popular songs about Haverness’s Hundred—most of them praise the Shavig Giant who brought a mountain down on the Vorsag. And as Danerra has just pointed out, you might as well havehero written across your forehead.”

I could feel my face flush with embarrassment.

Kellen smiled tightly. “He’s charismatic,” he said. There was something in his gaze that made me wary.

“But where should we attack first?” asked Farrawell.

“We don’t,” Kellen said. “If Jakoven attacks first, it will scare some of the Oranstonian lords. They know that Jakoven has just been waiting for an excuse to destroy what power the Oranstonian aristocracy still holds. He has a slew of landless Tallvenish noble lordlings who would give him utter loyalty in return for Oranstonian keeps.

“We wait,” said Kellen, “and then we destroy him.”

MYBROTHER COMPOSED SEVERAL SONGS ABOUT THEShavig Giant that he sang at night after dinner. I threatened the head of whoever had told him about the name the Oranstonians had adopted for me—but no one confessed. It was probably Beckram—but it might have been Kirkovenal, who seemed to get on well with my brother.

Alizon stayed another day to rest his horses, then left with his Oranstonian lords. We left Hurog twelve days after Alizon—we being Kellen, Rosem, my uncle, Garranon, Oreg, Tisala, Tosten, and me with Axiel as pilot. Beckram remained at Hurog to supervise the keep.

“How many know of this?” asked Kellen as he fastened himself on the gently bobbing raft.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Not very many.”

There were more people than the raft had seats; I planned to sit on the floorboards and hold myself on by the straps fastened to the raft for that purpose. Tisala had found a seat in the rear. I started toward her, but Kellen, in front, touched my arm.

“Stay here with me,” he said. “I have need to talk with you.”