Ciaran froze in place before slowly turning to give Verdan a searching look, as though trying to make sure Verdan was being honest. Whatever he saw was enough for his brow to furrow. “Who do you mean?”

  Verdan smiled and spread his hands. “Me.”

  A genuine smile spread across Ciaran’s face but he shook his head. “I admit, we did consider you as an option, and it gladdens my heart that you would offer. It won’t work, though. You are powerful, but you are just one man and a handful of guards. The city is no longer your ally, and while the Fwyn and Brecan are, I’m not sure they would be enough.”

  “And if I conjured a Legion?” Verdan asked. “Fifty constructs ready to fight for me if I willed it?”

  “Could you maintain that for the entire time we are gone?” Ciaran asked slowly, only to sigh as Verdan shook his head. “Then it is impressive, but not enough.”

  “What about the Airta and the Witches?” Verdan had been reluctant to put himself forward at first, but once it was clear that there was no other way that would help keep hundreds of innocents safe, he couldn’t stand aside.

  “Kai and Gwen are gone, and we don’t know when they will return. The Airta are busy as well, Sylvie is working hard to establish their presence in the area,” Ciaran said, shaking his head again. “Truly, Verdan, we discussed all of this; the problem is that your allies are firm, but they have their own agendas and are not under your authority. The requirements for the Hearth’s Oath are strict. The power to protect and enforce must be yours alone and under your authority.”

  Verdan grimaced, his mind racing as he tried to think of a way to make it work. There had to be something he could do to help his fulfil the requirements. If he only understood it better, but they were couched deep in Kranjir tradition. He doubted they could even put numbers to any of it.

  “Answer me this, Wizard,” Bastian said with an odd inflection to his voice, his hand tight on Verdan’s shoulder. “Would you put your life before the lives of every one of the clansfolk the oath would cover?”

  “Of course!” Verdan turned to face the Cleric, almost insulted that Bastian would even ask. “I take my obligations seriously. The only reason I won’t head north with them is that I worry about what would happen here.”

  “A wise choice,” Bastian said in the same strange tone. “What sleeps below could destroy the city, but what if you are pushed to the wall? What if your oath is tested and you must choose?”

  Verdan looked into the Cleric’s mismatched eyes, his own eyes widening as he saw that Bastian’s pupils had a gold ring around them. This was no idle question, and the Cleric was talking about the very thing that Verdan worried about the most. The automaton.

  The Brotherhood might know he had its remains, that could be what they’d been after. He prayed it wasn’t so, but he still worried.

  “Well?” Bastian asked, his sonorous voice echoing in the room as the silent Kranjir watched intently. They could all feel the weight of the moment.

  “If it came down to a choice between my oath and preserving what I have taken, I would burn it myself,” Verdan said firmly, meeting the judgement in Bastian’s gaze head on. “Knowledge is important, but not at the expense of innocents.”

  Bastian blinked and then staggered weakly to one side, a hand on the table keeping him upright. Rubbing his eyes, the Cleric looked up at Verdan with a wan smile and spoke up in a normal voice. “I have been placed under your command until the Brotherhood has been destroyed. My people and I are under your authority, by will Rharth and Gwyll.”

  “Govannon witness this moment,” Ciaran said in a breathy voice. “Intervention from the gods themselves!”

  “I have a Cleric with two gods and a force of veteran warriors under my command,” Verdan said, turning to Ciaran as he desperately tried to stay calm. One of the two gods had just questioned him, there could be no other explanation. Not only that, but they had approved of his answers. Taking a ragged breath, he forced his focus back onto Ciaran. “Is that enough for the Hearth’s Oath?”

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  “It is,” Ciaran said, looking torn for a moment before carrying on in a tight voice. “Nothing would please me more than to leave my people here, out of harms way. Knowing that they will be safe will make everything else easier. Honour compels me to tell you that this oath has implications you don’t understand. The blood debt between us if you fail is one thing, but you would never be trusted by another Kranjir again.”

  Verdan felt his eyes widen a little before he understood. “Because this oath is how all of the Clans came to trust each other, isn’t it?”

  “It is. There were more Clans once, but the only ones who survived were those that could work together. For all our animosity with some of the other Clans, we all put our people first.”

  Verdan’s mind conjured the image of a list somewhere of groups who had held up to a Hearth’s Oath and were deemed reliable because of it. A list of all the Kranjir Clans, and then his name at the bottom. Ridiculous, but necessary all the same.

  “I understand Ciaran.” Verdan tried to convey his sincerity and decided to put it in terms that any Kranjir would understand. “I will take on the Hearth’s Oath for your people and keep them safe. On my honour as both a Wizard and the last of the Blacke family.”

  Sinead inhaled sharply and the Chosen stared with wide eyes at him. Clearly he’d stumbled onto a part of their tradition with some of that.

  “Clan Thrain recognises your Oath,” Ciaran said, his voice sonorous as it filled the room. “May Govannon watch over us all, and bless this alliance between us and Verdan Blacke.”

  “We should spread the word immediately,” Maeve said, rushing for the door, Dirk and Magnus following after her.

  Ciaran held out a hand to Verdan. “No matter what comes next, thank you for doing this. I’d rather they had a chance here than risk it all heading through the Darjee.”

  Verdan could have made a remark about traditions and doing what was right not just what was expected, but that would cheapen the moment and he respected Ciaran too much for that. Taking the other man’s hand in a firm grasp, Verdan smiled. “I’ll keep them safe.”

  Ciaran returned the smile and left, hurrying to catch up with Maeve and the others. That left Verdan with just Sinead and Bastian. Sinking into one of the few chairs present, Verdan took a moment to collect his thoughts before turning to Sinead. “Thank you for helping to explain everything. If you don’t mind though, what did I do at the end that caught them by surprise?”

  “You took the oath as a Wizard, as we’d all expected, but also as the head of your family. By making that distinction clear, you are acting in your capacity as family head, not just as yourself. I realise it might be meaningless to you, but to us Kranjir, it is an important distinction.”

  Verdan sighed and resisted the urge to rub his face. This was a great example of some of the issues he’d have fulfilling this oath. For all that he and the Kranjir got along well, there were some cultural differences. At least this one was relatively harmless.

  “So, is there anything else I need to do?” Verdan asked, thinking of the oath. They’d spent more time warning him about it than actually taking it, which felt odd.

  “Not really.” Sinead shrugged. “You gave the oath on your honour in front of three Chosen from two different Clans. That’s enough for us.”

  Verdan nodded and got back to his feet. “Right, I think I’d best head back. Could you find out when Ciaran intends to leave and ask him to let me know?”

  “Of course.” Sinead nodded and left to find Ciaran.

  “We have a bit to talk about,” Bastian said into the following silence. “But perhaps we can do so on the walk to your estate?”

  Verdan nodded tiredly and got to his feet. Heading back the way they’d come, he called over Barb as Bastian collected his two escorts and they set off through the city. Barb and Bastian’s two guards seemed to realise that there was an important conversation to be had and hung back to give them space. Something that Verdan greatly appreciated.

  Already, the difference outside was notable, with the frantic preparations coming to a halt and slowly being undone as the Chosen spread the word of the change in plan.

  “So I’m not sure where to start with this,” Verdan said once they were out of the Kranjir area.

  “I can imagine,” Bastian said with a hearty laugh. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had one of them do that, but it isn’t exactly common. I guess that shows how important what we’re doing here is.”

  “Yeah, I guess it does.” Verdan fell silent for a short while before speaking up. “This authority I’ve been given, just how much do I actually have.”

  “All of it.” Bastian’s answer was simple and to the point. Reaching over to grab Verdan’s shoulder, the Cleric met his gaze. “Until Ciaran returns, we’re all under your command. Don’t shy away from using us. If the gods are involved, we need to take this seriously.”

  “I won’t.” Verdan promised, feeling the weight of the day firmly settle onto his shoulders. “Once Ciaran leaves, we’ll discuss anything that needs to be done.”

  “Understood.” Bastian nodded ahead to where the estate was coming into view. “I’ll leave you to catch up with everyone. When you need us, we’ll be ready.”