Chapter 5
WITHIN MOMENTS of Isandor and Jevaithi having entered the tent, Simo started ordering people about. Some men dragged a mat into the middle. Two other men placed a crate on top, which they covered with furs.
Simo bowed. “Here you are, Your Highness. We don’t have much, but we give you the best we have.”
The crate made a cosy little bench. Jevaithi sat down, and Isandor followed, with the weight of many stares on him, as if the people questioned his right to sit next to her. He took her hand, cold and clammy. His heart beat like crazy in her chest.
Her gaze darted over the seated audience, as if she expected Rider Cornatan to emerge from the crowd any moment.
Several people dressed in black stood out in the audience, the men with beards. They were, like Simo, Brotherhood of th
