Miro shared a glance with Beorn. He still didn't know what to make of this desert warrior and his new house, Raj Hazara.

Jehral had arrived in Sarostar the previous day, claiming to represent his leader, a prince whose name Miro couldn't remember. Jehral had said Raj Hazara was not a new house; rather, a fallen house that had been reborn. Miro wasn't sure what to believe.

Miro cursed himself; he'd meant to speak with Ella about this man, but instead he'd stayed here, forming battle strategies with the simulator. Tiredness leads to regret, Miro reminded himself.

"Show them in," Miro said, "but first please summon High Lord Rorelan."

Miro spoke some words to deactivate the simulator and return it to the state where it was no more than a map. He heard footsteps, and looked up as two men entered the room.

They were as alike as night and day. Jehral was beardless, with long dark hair held back by a circlet of silver. His loose clothing of black silk was bound by a sash of yellow, and combined with his sharp features and olive skin the garments made him look unmistakeably foreign.

Hermen Tosch had the broad build of the Buchalanti, or someone of Buchalanti stock, which meant a denizen of the free cities, Castlemere and Schalberg. His hair was cut short and he appeared to be a man who rarely smiled. He spoke seldom, but when he did it was with a thick, guttural accent.

Surprisingly, it was Hermen who spoke first. "We were told to wait, but Jehral is not used to waiting. Apologies, Lord Marshal."

Miro smiled tightly. "The High Lord is on his way. He wishes to meet with you both."

"This High Lord," Jehral said, his voice smooth and flowing. "He is your prince?"

Miro paused for a moment. "Yes, he is," he finally said. "High Lord Rorelan rules Altura, and I follow where he leads."

After the battle at the Bridge of Sutanesta, Rorelan had been made High Lord, although he had made it clear to his supporters among the nobility that his acceptance was conditional on Miro's confirmation as Lord Marshal. Both Miro and the new High Lord were happy — Rorelan was pleased to have a more experienced soldier lead the war effort, and Miro was content to leave the leadership of his homeland to a capable administrator.

"You'll remember Marshal Beorn?" Miro said.

Jehral executed a brief bow, culminating in a flourish, and Miro recognised that the desert warrior possessed grace. Beorn simply nodded.

"Can I offer you refreshment?" Miro asked. "The High Lord will be along shortly."

"Actually, it's you I wish to speak with, Lord Marshal Miro Torresante," Jehral said.

"Apologies, Jehral of Tarn Teharan, and I realise it may work differently in your land, but we should wait for the High Lord before discussing matters of… political importance," Miro said. Lord of the Sky, he was tired. Where was High Lord Rorelan?