Traitor's Knot by Janny Wurts

A man that I speak for lies dying.’
    But Enithen Tuer would not be rushed. Her uncanny awareness seemed to press like a blade against the raced pulse at his neck. ‘Beware who should carry your heart’s pledge, brave man. The wise would walk softly, and rightly so. Lysaer s’Ilessid has been declared outcast from the terms of the Fellowship’s compact.’ The crone sensed his start; nodded. ‘Ah, truly, then you do understand what that sentence means.’
    â€˜Explain anyway’ Unnerved by the pitfalls that might arise from the folly of a presumption, Sulfin Evend dropped pride. ‘My sources at Hanshire might not have been accurate.’
    Enithen Tuer decided to humour him. ‘For breaking the sureties sworn by the Sorcerers, your prince’s licence to inhabit this world is revoked. His fate will be ruled by Paravian law. All the worse, for the trouble you carry tonight. As a man disbarred, Lysaer can’t ask for the grace of a Fellowship intercession.’
    â€˜But the Paravians are vanished!’ Sulfin Evend shoved back his hood, ruffled as a jessed hawk. ‘Should I fear the old races’ absent reprisal? There are other powers abroad on Athera. Perhaps I should present my liege’s appeal to the Order of the Koriathain.’
    The seer raised frosty eyebrows. ‘Would you indeed?’
    Sulfin Evend steadied his rankled poise, aware all at once he was bargaining. ‘Their oath of debt might give me the more lenient terms.’ The sisterhood had chafed for thousands of years under the yoke of the Sorcerers’ compact. Surely, in the breach of Paravian presence, they would extend arcane help if he asked them.
    Enithen Tuer gave that prospect short shrift. ‘Koriathain will not treat with the powers that currently shadow your prince. Why else, worthy man, did you come here? After the scandal that destroyed your grand-uncle, surely you recognized Lysaer’s malaise as a blood-bound tie of compulsion?’
    Sulfin Evend could not mask the straight fear that shot through him. ‘How I’d hoped not. You’re certain?’
    The crone tucked bowed shoulders. ‘Sure enough.’ She seemed suddenly tired as her gesture encompassed the objects swathed under his cloak. ‘The items you carry will show us which faction.
    â€˜No!’ she exclaimed, arresting his move to unveil the unpleasant contents. ‘Not so fast! Never, without wards of protection where such a cult has engaged active workings!’ Porcelain eyes glinted, nailing him down with the force of their occult regard. ‘I, too, must demand my due reckoning for this service. Will you bear the cost and the consequence?’
    Her swift, stabbing finger forestalled his response. ‘I will help. But know this, young man. You bring me my death. The moment I opened my door to admit you, that forecast outcome was set. I have waited to go, for years longed for the day I would greet the turn of Fate’s Wheel. What are you willing to pay in exchange? Would you give your heart, if I ask, or the last breath in your lungs? Will you stand firm, and risk all you hold dear to salvage the life of your master?’
    The Alliance Lord Commander said, threadbare, ‘Anything. I must. The s’Ilessid prince carries my life debt.’
    â€˜Then shoulder your fate.’ The crone bent to one side, and snatched up the blackened spike of the fire iron. ‘You are a loyal man, Sulfin Evend. There lies your strength and your downfall.’
    â€˜Enough caterwauling emotion, old dame.’ Eyes like chipped slate matched that ancient, blind stare. ‘How do you want your pledge satisfied?’
    â€˜Set down your burden,’ the seeress replied. ‘Then, if I can, I will ease your straits, but after you’ve sworn a
caithdein’s
oath to the kingdom.’
    â€˜Here?
In Erdane?’
Prepared to unfasten the knots on the bundle, Sulfin Evend shoved