Thousands of miles from the rustling energy of Corus, Miles of Olau put the final touches to his manuscript.

Alanna's adopted father leant back with a happy sigh, regarding the bushel of papers with joy. His bushy beard gave him the appearance of a pleased baby, and his dark eyes twinkled happily. Quickly, deftly, he corrected a spelling with black ink and added a line to one of the clever drawings dotted around the page.

'Eleni!' he called, trying to keep the excitement from his voice. There was a pause, then footsteps sounded on the stairs and Eleni Cooper, his wife, came into the room.

'What is it, Miles? I'm trying to supervise the early apple picking.'

He stood up, the bundle of papers tucked safe under one arm.

'It's finished, Eleni! The complete history of the quest for the Dominion Jewel and the vanquishment of the evil in Tortall! Written down in pen and ink, so it shall never be forgotten.'

Eleni looked less than impressed. Her husband's obsession with the past was something that she had never properly understood.

'Well thank goodness for that. Now, when Alanna and the boys visit after the coronation, you can sort the roof on the outer conservatory.

'Eleni,' Miles said reproachfully. 'You cannot make the king of Tortall go climbing up onto the roof of a house like some sort of intelligent monkey. It's just not done.'

'I don't see why I shouldn't – him and my George and your Alanna seem to like nothing better than crawling round on things and getting into scrapes. Besides, it would be nice to see the lads getting some good exercise. All that wine and fine food will have turned their heads.'

Even though Alanna was married to her son, Eleni still classed her as one of the lads. It couldn't really be helped: when Alanna wasn't off questing into the far corners of Tortall or hounding out renegades in Sarain, she was fencing with Jonathon or sea kayaking in the treacherous straits off Port Cayn. Being halfway between the two sexes, she enjoyed an amount of freedom that most people envied.

Miles wrinkled his brow thoughtfully.

'Yes. I suppose so.' He sounded doubtful. Sending the holder of the Tortall throne onto the roof was over the top, even in his unorthodox opinion. 'When does the party arrive?'

'No party, dear. Just the three of them, and Coram. They're going to make a ride of it, Alanna said in her letter. Thayet's following in a more dignified way. She'll be here on Monday. You might have got the roof finished by then, and we can have a bit of fun. But I think she said they would be arriving the day after tomorrow.'

Miles' leapt up in shock.

'The day after tomorrow! Great mother, Eleni, we haven't anything ready! We'll have to clean the stables and make up the guest room – both the guest rooms – and get that new Shang chef from the town! My goodness, we'll never be ready in time!'

Eleni sniffed, and swished her skirts around her waist.

'Speak for yourself. I've been ready for three days now. Some of us handle our time in a wiser manner.'

She headed for the door, but then paused suddenly.

'Oh yes, there's a man to see you.'

Miles forced himself to look interested. Although he was a great merchant, after being immersed in the history of the dominion jewel, the worries of peasant farmers always seemed a bit of a comedown.

'Oh really? When did he arrive?'

'Last week. But I knew that while you were within sniffing distance of the end of that manuscript, we wouldn't see hide nor hair of you until the whole thing was done. I've been putting him up in the gardener's cottage – he seemed to be happier there.'

Miles walked over to the door and kissed Eleni heartily on both cheeks.

'My darling, I don't know what I'd do without you. Send him up immediately, and then as soon as whatever needs dealing with is dealt with, I will come and ride with you down to the village and pay this amazing chef out of my large bag of money.'

Eleni giggled and blushed.

'You're impossible, Miles.'

Miles waved her out of the room, then lit his pipe and sat in his chair, smoking and smiling. He always found that, although the manuscript was intriguing, nothing gave him greater pleasure than his wife and adopted daughter. Except maybe his recently acquired son. Or Prince Jonathon and Thayet.'

There was a nervous knock on the door, and a thin face peered around it. Miles glanced at it without any trace of curiosity, then looked again and sat bolt upright. He beckoned the man inside, and quickly poured him a glass of best brandy, seating him in one of the easy chairs tucked neatly out of sight in the corner of the room.

Then he ran to the window and carefully closed the heavy drapes, so no one could look in from the wide ledge outside. He opened the door and dismissed the servant standing there, then carefully closed and locked it, giving a cursory peer through the keyhole. Finally satisfied, he seated himself in the other chair, taking another draw on his pipe.

'What news, Pevril?'

The man glanced around, as though the walls might have ears, then leant forward.

'Mostly good, my lord. We've subdued the rebellion in the mountains, and my sources rumbled an assassination attempt on the king, may he live forever. We've got them sacred: we find out everything. But I think we're earning there trust...at least, I hope we are.'

Miles collapsed back, setting up dust from the back of his chair.

'Thank the mother! I thought we were going to face civil war from the mountains. Pour yourself another brandy, man, you deserve it.'

Pevril reached eagerly for the bottle, and then paused. His thin face clouded slightly.

'There is one thing, my lord.'

Miles glanced at him over the top of the glass.

'What is it? Come on, spit it out.'

The man toyed with the bottle.

'It just...there are strange things going on. Villages are being attacked. One of our patrols stumbled on it the other day. The houses were empty, but there were no bodies anywhere. Everything was just...gone.'

Miles looked puzzle.

'You mean taken?'

'No, lord. There was blood on the floor, human blood, and the houses were charred and burned as though from fire. And dead animals were everywhere. The place was the scene of a great killing: but there is nobody dead. It's a puzzle. But more to the point, it has my men scared. They think there are phantoms in the mountains. They are terrified to go up there.'

Miles swilled his brandy thoughtfully, then reached into his pocket and pulled out three gold coins.

'Have six barrels of Trebond port send up to the soldiers serving in the mountains, and offer each on a pay rise for the good work they are doing. That should win them over.'

Pevril took the gold and bowed.

'You're too generous, Sir Miles.'

Miles waved him away. One hand was back at his beard, not stroking it, but pulling at strands of hair, as he did when he was puzzled.

'These disappearing villages – could you keep an eye on it for me, and tell me if you hear any news? Anything at all, I want to know. There may be some snippet of conversation that will fit together with another snippet and create something of vital importance.'

Pevril stood and bowed.

'It will be done. Is that all, my lord.'

Miles nodded.

'Unless you have anything else to tell me. Eleni will find you some food and drink before you start the journey back.'

'You are kind.'

The thin-faced man headed for the door, then stopped. He winked at Sir Miles, his face far more mischievous that his subservient voice. Then, making a big show of pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he blew his nose loudly. But Miles wasn't interested in that. He was interested in the piece of paper that fell from the man's pocket.

As Pevril let the door swing close, Miles reached forward and picked up the paper. It was carefully folded, and printed on the outside were the words:

'From a friend.'

His eyebrows questioning, Miles opened the note. His eyes ran down the page, then widened in excitement and delight.

'Well, well, well!'

He read the note twice, then tucked it in his pocket. He brushed a hand through his greying hair. Quickly, he stood up, and walked across the room to the window, where he opened the drapes with a great flourish. His eyes were sparkling with excitement, and under his breath he was humming. Staring out of the window, a though came to him, and his smile widened with delight.

'I wonder what my Lioness will make of you, my dear!'