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He sits on the front step, a little cold, a little feverish, and still a bit drunk. The bird starts singing again. He glances back inside, through the door into the tiny space he is currently under instructions to think of ashome. Hes proud of his sister for how hard shes worked to spin straw into gold. The byre was waist deep in cow dung when she bought it. The bloke who did the renovations spent the first three days shovelling his way down to floor level. Even then he had a hellish job with the drainage and foundations. There are old mine workings honeycombing the ground beneath this part of the valley. Serendipity had to beg two more budget increases from her wife before the byre could be declared fit for human habitation. There’s a different kind of crap to wade through now: imitation welsh dressers, cut little landscapes in wonky frames; rag-rugs and wicker baskets piled with logs and pine cones. It’s homely but too twee for Rowan’s tastes. The absence of hot water or a shower doesn’t help. He doesn’t mind visiting the outhouse now and again but he’s encouraged his hosts to think again before advertising a holiday cottage that expects its occupants to wash their nether regions in the downstairs sink. Rowan is no stranger to roughing it, but he fancies that the fell walkers who flock to this part of the Lake District may expect slightly more for their 600-quid each week. Vertigern coughed, hiding laughter. The burghers, however, interpreted it in a different way. Elayne dismounted to greet the warrior, and there was no way to hear what she said, but the messengers eyes grew painfully wide and blood drained from his face. He dropped to his knees as Shan addressed him. Samara surveyed the battle ground once more and swept up her bottle of Metz, the opaque plastic cover hiding the remaining drink.I could go another. Anala. Wagner ordered me out of town. I climbed into the passenger seat and looked in the back, where Karen was attending to Max. How is he? [ i_001.jpg] Now, he said. What have we here? Like my student? Jeren struggled to her feet and wiped away her tears hurriedly. She couldnt let him see her cry. Not him. Not any of them. Her world twisted again, as another voice filled the air. One she would never forget. What had caused Ariah to send the Scion of Jern home? Shan no longer remembered. Too many transgressions jumbled together—disrespect, trespass on sacred land, brawling, a vicious attack on a fellow student…every act bleeding out from the wound of blind conceit inside him, the belief that he was alone among a people far beneath him. Hard to believe that this was Felans descendent. Shan thought it enough to ignore him, and to pray his sister would come to her senses soon. Sunday, November 3, 1991 Five years ago, as part of that pact, Gilliad had been sent to live among the elite warrior sect, and that experience had changed him forever. He had not found them to be the noble warriors and comrades Felans history described. They were monsters, he said, born and bred only to kill, savages who never bowed to the gods. Even their own kind shunned the Shistra-Phail warriors. The Fair Ones did not welcome having trained killers in their midst. He sniffs. Breathes in the smell of sunlight and fresh air. He glances to his left to check that Vicki-Louise has drifted away. He doesnt want to spoil his surprise. You know how much I tried. How are you feeling? asked Indarin. He listens to her happy life. Manages a smile.Yeah, he grumbles. “That would be the work of a fucking idiot. I did know what he meant. Nothing wasout of whack in Christian Salyers background, either. The criminally insane didnt have a mode of dress, a pattern of behavior, or a bright-red flag to warn off victims..