The boy nodded and whimpered a little. "Stop sniveling," the lord of Rockaxe snarled. "You weary me. Go!" The page scampered off, and Gorudo sighed. The thought of that lone samurai, shaming all of his knights and brazenly defiling the honour of Matilda...fury coursed through him, and his expansive body quivered with barely suppressed rage. He wished the page boy was still around, so that he could lash out at something. Instead, he reached down and wrapped his fingers around the goblet of wine that rested on the table before him. Sipping from it, he rose and walked across the length of his bedroom to the balcony doors. He flung them open and stepped out into the cool morning air, breathing deeply of the sweet air of Matilda. He looked out across the length and breadth of his kingdom from the tallest tower of the castle.

But the view was marred. To the south, Muse. To the west, Greenhill, and hovering over all of the City-States was the constant threat of Highland. War was certain; if nothing else, the halls and opulence of L'Renouille would only contain Ruka Bright for so long, and the slaughter of the Unicorn Youth Brigade had set fire to a potential political powder keg; of that much the samurai had spoken truly. He certainly didn't need to have political strategy dictated to him by street trash. And his Knights' defense of him had proved sorely lacking...nonetheless, he believed that he could use that to his advantage as well.

Camus, Miklotov. He chuckled, and felt no remorse. A good plan was never without contingencies. Behind him, he heard the doorway to his bed chamber open. The page boy coughed. "Lord Zirane, to see you, sir."

"My sword?"

"Here, milord."

"Leave it. You are dismissed." The page scurried off, and Gorudo turned to see Zirane framed in the doorway. The knight, a tall, slender whip of a man, dressed in the armour and courtly robes of a White Knight, bowed low, his forehead near to the ground. Zirane's long red hair hung loose today, almost falling to the middle of his back. "You sent for me, milord?"

"Indeed I did." Gorudo gestured with one hand at the sword and cape that the page had left lying on the bed. "You may gird me, Zirane." The knight seemed flattered by the honour, and set about wrapping Gorudo's swordbelt around his ample frame while his lord spoke. "I'm sure a man of your intellect can easily tell that the peace treaty between Highland and the City States isn't worth the paper it's written on, hmm?" Gorudo paused. "Ruka Bright will no doubt take the craven slaughter of his poor, sweet Highland children as an excuse to shred the treaty, and invade again." Zirane finished with the belt and began to artfully drape Gorudo's cape about his shoulders.

"Given the very tense situation right now, I imagine it only a short time before the Mayor of Muse, a weak-kneed woman, calls a Hilltop Conference and invokes the City State's oaths. Oaths made by old men, years ago, who had no idea of the complicated ramifications of their naive 'treaties'!" Tiny flecks of spittle shot from Gorudo's mouth as his ire rose, landing on the carpet. He turned around to face Zirane. "Matilda will not be trapped by those oaths. I have planted the seeds, and now the time is ripe to make our move. Walk with me, Zirane." He led the young knight out of his chambers and into the halls of Rockaxe. Servants scurried by with their eyes downcast as the sight of their lord.

"I plan to see that by the time Anabelle gives into her womanly terror, Matilda is no longer bound by those oaths. The how is not important to you...but the aftermath is. When Matilda stands alone, it will be necessary for strong men to take positions of leadership, and I believe that you, Zirane, are such a man. What do you say to that?"

"I am honoured that my lord has taken notice of me," Zirane replied, bowing his head. "My loyalty to Matilda stands next to no other in my heart."

Gorudo smiled. "I'm pleased to hear that. I regret to inform you, then, that my beloved lords Miklotov and Camus have betrayed Matilda's sacred trust. Even now, Camus is in Two River, plotting with our enemies, and Miklotov has fled Rockaxe to plot betrayal and treason. Long have I held both of those men close to my heart...like sons, I daresay, but that means little to a treasonous heart." He forced a sigh. "Nonetheless, what's done is done, and I shall see Miklotov and Camus duly punished for their crimes."

Gorudo stopped, and turned to face Zirane, gripped him by the shoulders. "Will you bear the burden of defending Matilda's honour, Zirane? I ask that you take Miklotov's place at my right hand, and command the Blue Knights. I plan to make the same offer to Liadon, that he join you and command the Red. Matilda was weakened by the treaties made with the other, weaker, City States, but we shall make it strong again!" He clapped Zirane on the shoulder. "Are you with me?"

Perhaps Zirane was not fooled. Perhaps he could see the plans within plans that rested in Gorudo's eyes, or perhaps he knew Miklotov and Camus too well, at least by reputation. But it didn't matter. Within the heart of the White Knight lay a soul to echo his master's...one that recognized the value of power, and loyalty to a greater cause, to Matilda. Gorudo didn't know, and didn't care. He had Zirane in his pocket, and that was what counted. Liadon...Liadon was a compromise, the best of a bad lot, but Zirane...Zirane could be molded.