On cue, Calenne and Kurkas entered the chamber; the former guided by the latter’s hand, shoulders squared and head erect. But her eyes swam with apprehension. Doubtless this was not the “introduction” she’d anticipated.

The result was everything Viktor could have wished. Josiri paled. The certainty of moments before washed away. “Calenne? What is this? What have you done to her?”

“She met with some trouble on the road. I was glad to offer assistance.”

Suspicion clouded Josiri’s eyes. “What sort of trouble?”

“I was attacked.” Calenne scowled her embarrassment and glanced sidelong at Viktor. “He saved my life.”

“Saved your life?” Makrov interrupted. “You’d no business being anywhere other than Branghall! You should have informed us she’d escaped, your grace!”

“I am not my sister’s keeper,” snapped Josiri.

Viktor read more evasion than truth in those words, but it hardly mattered. With Josiri disoriented, fresh battle lines opened up. The flow of the conflict was his to control.

“Captain Kurkas?”

“Sah?”

Kurkas, as was his wont when mischief abounded, let his accent blossom to drill sergeant’s drawl. The bluff soldier, obeying orders. A habit Viktor had long since despaired of smothering.

“Kindly escort the archimandrite back to Eskavord.”

“Escort me?” Makrov glowered at Viktor. “I’ve business here, and you lack authority.”

Viktor had once feared that tone, so often the precursor to a birch rod’s stinging chastisement. But the days of Makrov’s tutelage were long past, even if his tyrannies would never be forgotten.

“Not so.”

Viktor flicked aside the heavy velvet of his cloak and retrieved the first of two precious letters. The blue wax seal of the Council was as yet unbroken. He strode past Josiri and handed it to Yanda, who had thus far watched proceedings with wary interest.

“Governor Yanda. I hereby take command of the Southshires and all forces stationed within its bounds.”

Yanda didn’t even split the seal. “I’m glad to have you here, my lord.”

“You’ll return to Cragwatch and prepare a report on the readiness of our forces.”

“That won’t take long,” she said drily. “We need all the help the Council can send.”

“You’ll have to make do with me for now,” Viktor replied. “And two companies of my hearthguard, who’ve spent days on the road, without opportunity to make observance of Ascension. Which is why, Excellency, I’d be grateful if you’d return to Eskavord and lead them in prayer.”

“I’ll do no such thing! You will not shut me out! I speak with the Council’s voice!”

“Not any longer. So far as the Southshires are concerned, I am the Council,” Viktor rumbled. “If you wish to challenge my authority, you have only to ride north. Doubtless you will find a sympathetic ear. But until then, you will fulfil the duties of your station. Am I understood?”