The Grave Thief: Book Three of The Twilight Reign by Tom Lloyd Page B

with the army. Scores of those with light injuries had returned on wagons or horseback, even walking, to avoid wintering away from their families, and many of the nobles answering their new lord’s summons had chosen to billet with the Palace Guard they had once served in. Money for lodgings was tight for many of the knights and hurscals who’d travelled with their liege lords, especially when the innkeepers of the city, who had also heard Isak’s summons, had cannily doubled their prices.
    Lesarl had seen this as a good thing and he had instructed Kerin to make as much space as he could to accommodate anyone wearing the white. The Ghosts were the Farlan’s finest soldiers, so many nobles sent their sons there for training. Almost half the men knighted on the battlefield were raised from the Palace Guard’s ranks, and Lesarl was keen to encourage the return of veterans, men who’d completed their ten-year term and been recruited as hurscals by suzerains. They were men whose opinions would be respected, and it would do no one any harm to remind them of their primary loyalty, to the Legion.
    Once the required personal greetings had been made to three marshals with white on their collars and a recent recruit, Scion Tebran, who was with his father, the suzerain - who, despite the stains on his tunic had obviously managed to find his mouth often enough to get roaring drunk - Isak headed through the rear door of the hall and down the long, cold corridor to the forbidding entrance to the tower, which was next to the main staircase to the private apartments.
    The corridor was bedecked with mouldering flags, except for the green and gold standard of the Narkang Kingsguard, which shone bright and new. It had been presented to Lord Isak as a gesture of friendship by King Emin of Narkang after Isak had helped defend the city from a White Circle coup.
    ‘Makes the others look decrepit, doesn’t it?’ Isak said, pointing to the flag.
    ‘Should I order replacements? Some are defunct legions now, but we can have them copied without much difficulty.’ Lesarl stopped and turned to the flag nearest to the Great Hall. It was so old and dirty that it was hard to make out the zigzags of blue and green woven through each other down its edge, but there was enough to confirm Lesarl’s judgment. ‘My Lord, this one is the Boarhunters, one of the oldest Tildek light cavalry legions.’
    ‘They still exist?’
    ‘Indeed, though somewhat lacking the glory of centuries past that caused their flag to be hung here. That, if memory serves correctly, included ambushing and destroying a Tor Milist army four times their number, then blocking the main enemy force’s line of retreat for two days despite terrible losses.’
    ‘The battle of Hale Hills?’ Isak replied, his eyes lighting up at the memory of the heroic action.
    ‘The very same,’ Lesarl said. ‘My Lord, perhaps it would be a gesture of peace to the people of Lomin if you officially requested a replacement flag? I can find out who the commander is; no doubt he is in the city. One of my agents mentioned that the common folk of Tildek - and Lomin too - are concerned they will be held to blame for the actions of their suzerain and the rest of the Certinse family. This might send a sign to both Tildek and Lomin that we still value them.’
    ‘Do you want to make a show of it at my investiture?’
    ‘I would advise against that,’ Lesarl said, ‘it should belong to the people of the suzerainty, not the nobles. I will find an ennobled man to pass the request on, and that will ensure the men of the legion know of it too, not just their officers.’
    ‘Good. The investiture will be complicated enough without added theatrics,’ Isak growled as he started up the wide stone staircase. ‘Stay down here and bring Xeliath up to my chambers without letting that lot see her,’ he said, jabbing a thumb towards the Great Hall where voices were now raised in song. ‘She’ll sleep in my