That night was no different. Esterad put on his nightcap and picked up his sceptre. He liked to hold his sceptre and play with it; he didn’t do it officially for he feared his subjects would accuse him of being pretentious.

‘You know, Zuleyka,’ he said, ‘lately I’ve been having queer dreams. I’ve dreamed of that witch, my mother, I don’t know how many times. She stands over me and repeats: “I have a wife for Tankred, I have a wife for Tankred”. And she shows me a pretty, but very young girl. And do you know, Zuleyka, who that girl is? It’s Ciri, Calanthe’s granddaughter. Do you remember Calanthe, Zuleyka?’

‘I do, my husband.’

‘Ciri,’ Esterad went on, playing with the sceptre, ‘is the one Emhyr var Emreis reputedly wants to marry. A bizarre marriage, astonishing… How, damn it, ought she to be a wife for Tankred?’

‘Tankred–’ Zuleyka’s voice faintly altered, as it did whenever she spoke of her son ‘–could do with a wife. Perhaps he would settle down…’

‘Perhaps,’ Esterad sighed. ‘Though I doubt it, but perhaps. In any case, matrimony is some sort of chance. Hmmm… Ciri… Ha! Kovir and Cintra. The Yaruga estuary! Doesn’t sound at all bad, not at all bad. An alliance would be fine… A nice little coalition… Well, but if Emhyr has his eye on the filly… But why is she appearing in my dreams? And why the hell am I dreaming that sort of nonsense? At the Equinox, do you recall, when I woke you… Brrr, what a nightmare that was, I’m glad I can’t remember the details… Hmmm… Perhaps we ought to summon an astrologer? A soothsayer? A medium?’

‘Madam Sheala de Tancarville is in Lan Exeter.’

‘No.’ The king grimaced. ‘I don’t want that witch. Too clever. A second Philippa Eilhart is springing up under my nose! Power appeals too much to these clever women, one should not encourage them with favours and familiarity.’

‘You’re right, as ever, my husband.’

‘Hmfff… But those dreams…’

‘The Good Book–’ Zuleyka turned over a few leaves ‘–says that when a man falls asleep, the gods open his ears and speak to him. Whereas the prophet Lebioda teaches that when gazing on a dream, one either sees great wisdom or great foolishness. The art is in recognising it.’