The Queen of Galkis stood beneath the Tower of Tir-Racneth, watching her husband's ship negotiate the one safe channel through the rocks that guarded Cheransee. No hostile ship would find it while the new King of Ellerinonn lived and used the remainder of his power to protect the exiles. The ship had reached the shallows and soon they would be lowering the boats to come ashore.

"Shall I fetch a cloak for you, majesty?" asked an eager voice. "The wind is cold today."

"No, I hardly feel it, but thank you, Lord Feernax."

The young Tryfanian marvelled again at the sweetness of the Queen's slow smile.

"Majesty, if the Queen your sister will lend us so much as ten ships, I swear we shall clear the Footsteps of those Fangmere murderers. Then the Jorgan Islanders will surely rise against them!"

"Not unless they are asured of help from the north," said Kelinda calmly.

"That will come soon!" declared Feernax. "Far-Tryfarn has rebelled once already and Tryfis is on the point of it. Everyone hates Zyrindella, even her own son; she can't hold the north much longer!"

"Poor Zyrindella!" thought Kelinda. Aloud she said: "As long as she holds her southern border against the Men of the Five Kingdoms, Zyrindella will not lack for followers ... ah, don't look so downcast, Feernax - you are right to burn with hope; but I was always one to see the shadow rather than the sun."

"Lady, you are our sun!" Feernax seized her hand and kissed it. "You keep our faith bright, and I know Zeldin will deliver his people. He will send back the Third Prince to save us and we must be ready for him."

Kelinda smiled tightly, glad that Forollkin wasn't there to be hurt by those confident words. Feernax swept on with his plans for the liberation of Galkis.

"After the Jorgan Isles, we must retake Ephaan, of course. Now if only King Ellandellore would allow us to anchor warships along the coast of Ellerinonn..."

He broke off as Ellandellore himself came over the brow of the hill, with Kelinda's son chasing at his heels.

"There," said the sorceror. "I win."

"But you cheated!" The boy ran to Kelinda. "Mother, we were having a race but he turned himself into a bird and flew most of the way. That's not fair is it?"

"No, indeed!" said Kelinda. "Shame on you, my Lord of Ellerinonn!"

"I wither before your just rebuke, O Queen."

Ellandellore bowed extravagantly, but in the presence of his former citadel, his face was sombre. The crooked tower was still deserted. Only the children of the exiles sometimes crept inside to rummage amongst the discarded treasures and wear the jewels of the drowned as carelessly as Ellandellore had once done.

Down on the shore the boats were beached, and the returning Galkians were taking the quickest path to the citadel. Forollkin was the first to reach the summit and his son careered across the grass to greet him. He had kissed the scarred cheek and burst into a flood of chatter before Forollkin could even begin to say "And how's my Kerish?"

"I can recite almost half The Book of Promises now and I've grown nearly as tall as the next mark on the wall. Meyvinn's had her baby, but it's a girl, and Ellandellore hid in the Cat Rock and it took me ages to find him. Did my aunt send me any presents?"

"Perhaps she did; you'll have to wait and see."

Forollkin had almost flinched at the mention of Pellameera. He had not expected the years to have treated her so cruelly and he could not forget her twisted smile as she listened to the lying praises of her latest lover.

"Forollkin..."

He turned, with grateful love, to the Queen of Seld's sister and kissed her, with their son still clinging round his neck.

"What sort of present did she perhaps send? How long do I have to wait?"

Feernax studied all three of them, trying to find the parents in the child. Kerish-lo-Seldon would never be as tall as his father and perhaps the slender, fine-boned frame came from his mother. The rich brown hair, with its red glints, was a mixture of them both, but you could trace Forollkin in the stubborn tilt of the boy's chin and Kelinda in the gentleness of the smiling mouth. Yet the eyes were purely Godborn, huge and deep, purple and golden and black. An omen, the exiles had said when those eyes first opened, a good omen.

The little group broke up as Forollkin's companions reached the top of the hill and came forward to greet their Queen and the young King of Ellerinonn. In Galkis itself this group of priests and soldiers, craftsmen and nobles, would never have known each other. In exile they worked together.

Feernax was soon amongst them, eagerly asking for news, but it was Forollkin who answered him.

"The Queen of Seld will lend us nine ships and all the young troublemakers of her court. If we use those successfully, she'll be more generous next time. Now that alliance between the Brigands of Fangmere and the Men of the Five Kingdoms is broken, she concedes that there is hope for us.

"Why are our enemies angry with each other?"

Forollkin put his son down and answered him seriously.

"Becuase the Brigands of Fangmere wanted to sacrifice your cousin Koligani to their Dark Goddess and they can't forgive the Prince of Oraz for marrying her instead. The Prince of Chiraz was angry too."

"There's fresh news of fighting between Orazian and Chirazian troops," began Feernax. "It seems to have started with a quarrel over the tribute from Joze..."

The young Tryfanian hadn't heard the chimes of the temple bell, so Kelinda gently interrupted him. "It is time for the noonday service. We should all give thanks for this safe return, and afterwards there will be food and rest for our travellers."

Feernax bowed and retreated to join the lively group around Ellandellore, leaving Forollkin to walk down to the city with his wife and son.

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