'No, her companions are with her, Majesty - a white-haired giant and a young man.'

'Are they armed?'

'They gave their weapons to the Royal Sentries.'

Intrigued, the King moved to his desk. 'Show them in - and fetch Pasan-Yol.'

Bowing once more, the servant departed.

As Yos-shiel had reported, the woman was very beautiful, and moved with a grace that stirred the King's blood. 'I understand you claim to be from another land,' he said. 'Where might that be?'

'I could not say where in relation to Yur-vale,' she told him, her voice deep, almost husky. 'We were sent through a magical Gateway.'

The King picked up the letter. 'So Yos-shiel tells me. I must say I find it hard to believe. Could it be that you are spies, sent by the enemy?'

A squad of guards moved in behind the newcomers, 'You wish them arrested, Majesty?' asked Pasan-Yol.

'Not yet,' the King told the young guardsman. 'They interest me. So tell me, woman, why you are here.'

'To bring back the sun,' she said. The silence in the room grew as the listeners took in her words.

'You are a witch?' asked the King.

'I am.'

'Sorcery has long been considered a crime here, punishable by death.'

The woman smiled. 'Whereas stupidity has obviously not. Do you wish to see the sun shine over Yur-vale?'

The King leaned back in his chair. 'Let us suppose - merely for the sake of argument - that you could achieve this ... this miracle. What do you desire in return?'

'I think the letter from Yos-shiel will answer that,' she told him.

'You know of that - and yet you come here? Was that wise, witch?'

239 She shrugged. 'The wisdom of any course can only be judged by the outcome. I offer you the sun for a piece of metal. You make whatever choice seems fitting.'

'What do you think, Pasan?' asked the King.

The young guardsman gave a derisory laugh. 'I think they are spies, Father. Let me interrogate them.'

'Yet another numbskull,' said Ironhand to Sigarni, in the same tone of voice. 'You think they are all victims of in-breeding?' The guardsman's sword snaked from its scabbard. 'Put it away, boy,' said Ironhand, 'before I take it away from you and swat your backside.' The guardsman took a deep breath and dropped into a fighting position with sword extended.

'That's enough!' said the King.'Put up your blade, Pasan!'

'You heard what he said, Father!'

'Aye, I did,' answered the King, wearily. 'So let us not be too swift to prove his point.'

'I think a little proofwould not go amiss,' put in Sigarni to the King. 'Do you have a garden here?'

'Nothing grows in Zir-vak,' he said. 'But, yes, there was a garden. I do not go there now, for the sight of it saddens me."

'Take me there,' she said, 'and I will show you something to lift your heart.'

The King stood and moved to the window, where the siege towers were inching ever closer. He swung back to the woman. 'Very well, I will humour you. But know this, if there is no miracle I shall not be best pleased - and the charge of sorcery will be laid against you.'

'If there is no miracle,' said the woman, 'then the charge will be hard to prove.'

For the first time the King smiled. 'Let us go to the garden,' he said.

The garden was more than two hundred feet long, and had been designed around a series of winding white-paved pathways. There were three fountains, none of them in use, and the flower-beds were covered with thick grey ash. Scores of dead trees lined the marble walls at the outer edges of the garden, and the area was devoid of any life.

Sigarni felt a moment of fear as she surveyed the landscape. What if her reasoning was flawed?

240.

'I'm looking forward to this,' said Ironhand, with a wink.

'Well,' said the King, 'we are here, and you promised a miracle.' He was standing with his arms folded, his son beside him with hand on sword. The six guards stood nervously by.

Sigarni approached the King. 'May I borrow your dagger, my lord?' she asked.

'What nonsense is this?' stormed the young man at his side.

Sigarni frowned, then raised her arm before him. 'Make a shallow cut, here,' she said, pointing to her forearm.

Pasan-yol drew his dagger, and drew the blade slowly across her skin. Blood welled, and Sigarni walked to a line of dead bushes, kneeling down before the first and holding her arm above the dry branches. Slowly drops of blood dripped to the wood.

Nothing happened. Sigarni stayed where she was, and glanced at Ironhand, who was watching her intently. She had explained her theory to him, and he had listened thoughtfully.

'Well, where is this miracle?' asked the King, his tone hardening.

Ironhand stepped forward and knelt beside Sigarni. 'Touch the bush,' he whispered.

Lowering her arm, her fingers brushed against the wood and she felt her hand grow hot. The blood upon the branches disappeared into the grey wood, which began to swell and grow. Buds appeared, pushing out into new red growth, stretching up towards the iron sky, then darkened to green and finally to brown.

Three blooms appeared, opening to roses the colour of Sigarni's blood.

She stood and turned towards the King, ready to present her arguments.

Just then a beam of sunlight pierced the clouds, illuminating the garden. In its bright light the King looked older, more weary, his face lined, dark rings beneath his eyes. 'How have you done this?' he whispered, moving to the rose and kneeling before it to smell the blooms.

'The war must end,' she said. 'That is all that keeps the sun at bay.'

'What are you saying?'

'This is a magical land, Majesty, where the war and the devastation feed the dark side of the magic. Every act of hate, of malice, of bloodlust only serves to fuel the fires beneath the mountains. You are destroying this world with your fighting.

Think back to the days before, when the sun shone. The Feast of Athling. There was a 241.

three-day truce between the armies; when the righting stopped the sun shone. It was the same when your father was buried: a day of truce. And before the war Yur-vale was a paradise. Can you not see it? In some way the feelings of the people are magnified by the land itself. All this hatred and violence is reflected by the land which, like the people here, is turning on itself.'

'I told you she was a spy!' roared Pasan-Yol. 'This is all a trick to lull us.'

From some distance away came a series of dull, booming sounds, and the faint clash of steel upon steel. The sunlight faded away.

'The siege towers have reached the walls,' said the King. 'I must go now. But I will give your words serious consideration and we will meet again this afternoon. In the meantime I will ask one of my servants to show you the palace museum.

There are many wonders there -including the Helm you seek.'

Sigarni and Ballistar bowed. Ironhand merely inclined his head.

'Your tall friend does not care for the formalities. Does he not know it is wise always to pay respects to a king?'

'He does, my lord,' said Sigarni. 'But he is a king himself, and is unused to bowing before others.'

The King chuckled. 'A monarch should have better dress sense,' he said, pointing to Ironhand's ill-fitting red shirt. 'And you, young lady, should have that wound dressed - unless of course you plan to revive my entire garden.' He swung to the young man. 'You cut too deeply, Pasan. See that the surgeon is sent for, and that our guests are looked after.'

'But, Father ...'

'Just do it, Pasan. I have no time for further debate.' The King strolled away, followed by four of the guards.

Pasan glared at Sigarni. 'You may have fooled him with your witchery, but not me. You are an enemy - and enemies are to be destroyed. And look at your rose,'

he said triumphantly. 'It is already dying.'

'Aye,' she agreed sadly. 'With every death upon the walls. With every mouthful of corpse meat. With every word of hate.'

Summoning Ballistar and Ironhand, Sigarni walked back towards the palace.

242.

Her arm bandaged, the blood still seeping through, Sigarni sat with Ironhand and Ballistar in the main hall of the Palace Museum. There were statues lining the walls, paintings hung in alcoves, but pride of place went to the Crown of Alwen, which sat upon a slim column of gold within a crystal case. The Helm shimmered in the lamplight and Ironhand gazed upon it with undisguised admiration. 'Had I retained the Crown,' he said softly, 'there would have been no civil war. Elarine and I could have enjoyed a peaceful reign and you, Sigarni, would have known great joy.'

'I have known great joy,' she said. 'Gwalchmai was a fine foster-father, and I have lived a free life in the Highlands.'

'Even so, I wish it had been different.'

'It is never wise to long for days past,' she told him. 'They cannot come again.

What will you do when we get back? Will you announce yourself and lead the army? You are much more suited to the task than I.'

'I think not,' said the giant. 'You are the new Battle Queen. Let it be so. I will advise - and take an hour or two to smite the enemy,' he added with a grin.

'Ifwe get back,' pointed out Ballistar. 'There is no certainty. What if you are wrong about this war, Sigarni? What if the sun does not shine again?'

'I am not wrong,' she said. 'I sensed it from the moment the bow sprouted leaves.

This is a land in torment. Everything here is unnatural. When the war ends, so will the upheavals of nature -1 am convinced of it.'

'I think you are correct,' said Ironhand, 'but the fact remains that for the war to end, both sides must agree terms. After fighting for this long, such a decision will be hard. There is something else too, daughter. If there is no peace, and the King refuses to give you the Crown, what then?'

'We will leave without it - and fight the Outlanders without the aid ofthePallides.'

'I'm hungry,' said Ballistar. 'Do you think they would allow us a cooking pot? We still have some oats?'

'You could ask,' said Sigarni, gesturing towards the silent guards at the door. But the request was refused, and the trio moved around the museum, studying the various artefacts.

Towards dusk several servants entered, filling the oil-lamps and 243.

lighting more. Huge velvet curtains were drawn across the high, arched windows.

At last the King returned. He was wearing armour now, and looked even more weary than he had in the morning. 'Their siege engines were destroyed,' he said, 'but the death toll was very high. I have asked for a truce, and will meet with their King outside the walls in an hour. I want you with me when I speak with him.'

'Gladly, sire,' said Sigarni.

More than fifty lanterns had been set on poles outside the main gates, and a score of chairs were set out in two lines often, facing one another. The night was pitch- black, the lanterns barely giving out sufficient light to see more than a few paces.

'Fetch more,' ordered the King, and two officers moved away into the blackness.

The King, now dressed in a simple tunic of blue, sat down, with Sigarni on his left and Pasan-Yol on his right.

Twenty more lanterns were set out.

They waited for some time, and then saw a slow-moving column of men walking from the enemy camp, their King in the lead, wearing silver armour embossed with gold. He had no helm and Sigarni saw that his lean face showed the same edge of weariness as that of the man beside her.

He did not look at the waiting party, but strode directly to a chair opposite the King of Zir-vak and sat down.

'Well, Nashan,' he said at last, as his twenty-man escort fanned out behind him, 'for what purpose do you call this meeting?'

The King told him of Sigarni's arrival, and of the miracle in the rose garden. The enemy leader was less than impressed.

'Today you destroyed a few siege towers, but they proved their worth, did they not? You were hard pressed to stop them. I have now ordered fifty to be built, then Zir-vak will fall. You think me a fool, cousin? You seek to stave off defeat with this nonsense?'

'It is all nonsense, Reva. We fight a war our grandfathers began. And for what?

For the honour of our Houses. Where is the honour in what we do?'

'I will find honour,' stormed Reva, 'when I have your head impaled on a lance over the gates of Zir-vak.'

'Then you may have it,' said the King. 'You may take it now. If that will end the war and bring the sun back to our lands, I will die gladly. Is that all you desire?'

244.

'The surrender of all your forces, and the opening of the gates,' demanded Reva.

'The gates are already open,' pointed out the King. 'And we will fight no more.'