Her maids were stunned by this unheard-of passion, by the fire in their Mistress’s eyes, and the love that poured from her, the loyalty she gave her husband. She subdued them with her speech.
What she didn’t say was what she had observed and concluded from her hours in this province—that this place was one step from anarchy, that Nor was lucky to have a Sagemore to keep the unbridled spirits of his ruffian bandit-soldiers from rising up against him. They were no different than Titus and his tribe. They were simply too dumb to organize themselves otherwise. The legends, the superstitions, the mysteries of Illusia kept them contained. But for how long? This would be Nor’s greatest battle, his greatest victory if he were to win, and finally pass from this life with his beloved country intact
