Georgdi stood on the balcony, bathed in the mid-morning sun. Across the lake, Armat’s former military camp seethed with Lealfast. They glinted in the sun, the lines of frost on their eyebrows and on the ridges of their wings sending shimmers of light sparking into the air and surrounding countryside.

It was a stunning spectacle, but it did nothing to lighten Georgdi’s mood.

Then he tensed in alarm, straightening his back and sliding his hand down to the knife in his belt.

A window had appeared in the air some two or three paces out from the edge of the balcony. In that window sat a young dark-haired man, regarding Georgdi with considerable amusement.

Georgdi allowed himself to relax slightly, although he rested his hand on his hip, close to the knife.

“You must be Josia,” he said.

“Indeed,” said Josia, “and it is with you I must chat now that Axis has vanished.” Something crossed Josia’s face, almost irritation, but then the smile returned. “Do things go well in Elcho Falling, Georgdi?”

Georgdi gave a short laugh. “We eat, dance and are merry,” he said. “Light entertainments are all that is left to us now that we lie under such heavy siege.”

“It must be galling to you, sir, to be so confined.”

“I am an adaptable man.” Georgdi injected a light tone into his voice, wondering what Josia wanted. There was something about the man that riled Georgdi, but he couldn’t put a name to it, and he thought it must be just a projection of his frustration at being, indeed, so confined within Elcho Falling.

He was an Outlander, born and bred for the vast open spaces of the plains, and house confinement of any description abraded his nerves.

“Do you have any news of Maximilian and Ishbel?” Georgdi said.

“Axis told you of their success at DarkGlass Mountain?”

“Yes.”

“The One is gone and all Maxel and Axis need to fret about are the approaching Skraelings and,” Josia waved a hand behind him, “these winged creatures. I am sure Axis can —”

“Do you have any news of Maximilian and Ishbel?” Georgdi asked again. Josia was really starting to irritate him, and Georgdi knew now it wasn’t just frustration at his own confinement.

He didn’t like the man.

“None interesting enough to relay,” Josia said. “They have begun their journey home, which shall take them a good few weeks as I am sure you realise.”

“Then is there anything you need to discuss with me?”

Josia’s mouth curved in a very small smile. “No. Not really, Georgdi. I just wanted to get your measure.”

He was gone, then, before Georgdi could even open his mouth to reply.

Gods, that man was annoying! Georgdi had no idea why Maximilian and Ishbel seemed to think him such a friend and confidante. He turned to walk back into the command chamber then he stopped suddenly, his heart thumping.

Two surprises in just a few minutes. Georgdi didn’t think he could take much more of an escalation in surprises this day.

One of Elcho Falling’s servants stood just inside the doorway. He was half shrouded in shadow so that Georgdi could not see him clearly, but he could easily make out his form.

As soon as the servant saw Georgdi react he stepped into the light, bowing his head slightly in greeting.

“And what can I do for you?” Georgdi said.

“We, too, make ourselves known to you,” said the servant.

“You need only to think your need of us and we shall be here.” “You speak for Elcho Falling itself, do you not?”

The servant bowed his head again.

“What do you think of Josia?” said Georgdi.

“We are glad he resides only in his Twisted Tower,” said the servant.

Georgdi grunted in amusement. “I had not thought of it that way, but yes .”

“Just remember that words can often be as harmful as weapons or power.”

“Is that a warning?”

Again the servant inclined his head, but in a manner that could have meant anything.

“Well,” Georgdi said, “thank you . . . I suppose.” He paused. “May I ask something? Is there any way in and out of this fortress other than by the front door?”

The servant smiled.

“There are chambers as yet undiscovered,” he said.

The servant leaned closer to Geordi and the two spoke quietly for some time.

An hour later Georgdi met with Egalion, Insharah and Ezekiel. Neither Maximilian nor Axis had consulted much with the once most senior of Isaiah’s generals, but Georgdi liked Ezekiel and valued his opinion.

“I am tired of all this sitting about,” Georgdi said, lacing his hands over his chest as he leaned back in his chair and looked at the other three.

Both Ezekiel and Insharah grinned, and Egalion narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

“And what do you plan to do about it?” Egalion said.

“I have heard so much about the Isembaardian military prowess,” Georgdi said, “and yet I have not had an opportunity to view it firsthand. You’ve done a great deal of moving from place to place — and in my land, may I point out — but little to demonstrate your great reputation.”

“Are you about to give us a chance to demonstrate it, then?” Ezekiel said, leaning forward a little, his eyes bright.

“And you and your Emerald Guard,” Georgdi said to Egalion, ignoring Ezekiel for the moment. “What you did that night the Lealfast attacked was extraordinary. I’m betting Maximilian has never allowed you very far off the leash in all the time you have trotted about in pretty green columns at his back.”

Egalion chuckled. “Either you are trying to make us angry, or you have a plan, Georgdi. I think the latter.”

“I have always been a great fan of the unexpected,” Georgdi said. “Axis expects us to sit here and hold the fort for him. Maximilian expects everyone to sit and twiddle their thumbs awaiting his glorious return. The Lealfast think to have us trapped impotent in this citadel. No doubt the Skraelings scampering their way toward us also think we sit around dreading their arrival. Well, I am sick of all this sitting. I’d like to see what you and your commands can do, and I’d like the chance to show you what the Outlanders can do.”

“Not the Strike Force?” Ezekiel said.

“The Strike Force can sit this one out,” Georgdi said. “They’ve had their chance.”

“And you think to . . . ” Insharah said.

“Look,” Georgdi said, finally unlacing his fingers and sitting up straight, “we cannot free ourselves from the Lealfast siege, but I see no reason why we cannot make things uncomfortable for them. I think some niggling, embarrassing action could unsettle them enough to make them do something stupid. They do have an awful lot of Icarii blood in them, after all.”

“Never say that in front of Axis, or StarDrifter or StarHeaven,” Insharah said.

“Am I saying it in front of Axis, or StarDrifter or StarHeaven?” Georgdi said. “No? Then don’t worry about it. Any of those three would want to plan some grand — and no doubt foolish — action which would see too many of our friends dead. I don’t want to do that. I’d rather see none of our friends dead. Just a little bit of action is all I ask for.”

Georgdi smiled as he reached into the leather pocket of his jerkin and pulled out a small square block of brown fibrous material.

“Do any of you know what this is?” he said.

His smile broadened at the looks of puzzlement on the faces of the other three.

“It is a block of pressed seed pods from the falamax plant,” Georgdi said. “Falamax grows fairly widely on the Outlands’ plains and our people often carry a small block like this on their persons. Many of my warriors here do. The falamax plant is a fairly innocuous shrubby perennial that is remarkable for one thing only — the value of the spores contained within its seed pod. Mostly we use it for cooking purposes.” Georgdi turned the block over in his fingers. “A tiny bit of this crumbled into our food gives flavour along with a mild intoxicating and warming effect.”

Georgdi paused. “But if this is crumbled and blown into the wind, and if someone inhales it, well then . . . then the falamax spores become a powerful hallucinogen.”

“Ah .” Ezekiel said, and he grinned.