Good morning, Vidarh, it looks as if we're going to have beautiful day.

It certainly does. Given the curious look in her eye, Vidarh was sure Tamarith wanted more from him than small talk.

I would like to talk to you before Gulling calls us all together, if you can spare a few minutes.

Of course, Vidarh agreed as he followed her outside and walked with her along the mosaic path beside the banks of flowers that edged the lake.

Tamarith stopped and gazed for a moment across the water. The G-type sun, now fully risen, caused the lake to shimmer like a veil of golden silk, with scarcely a ripple disturbing its calm. The pastel-coloured walls of the graceful buildings on the shore reflected the glow of both suns. In the distance, the mountains encircling the

settlement reached high into the cerulean sky. The swirling mist that hid their summits was as much a part of Niflheim as the earth upon which she and Vidarh stood.

She sensed his mind discreetly touch hers and realized he was staring at her keenly. She turned back to face him, returning his questioning glance and studying him in turn. Taller than average, and broad-shouldered, today he wore a sleeveless, belted leather shirt over thick breeches, with long, ice cat-wool lined boots. His upper arms were well muscled, his skin tanned as if he were used to working outdoors. His curly, dark auburn hair, kept away from his face with a plain leather band, reached almost to his shoulders. It caught the sun's rays and gleamed like the polished dark red wood of the trees that flanked the feet of the mountains.

She took in his clear, hazel eyes, with their friendly twinkle, the long, straight nose, strong jaw line and smiling mouth. He would have been fighting off the local unattached young women if the situation they found themselves in were not so serious.

Not that she was particularly interested in his looks, or those of any other man, for that matter.

No, something else about Vidarh of Raga excited her curiosity.

It's about yesterday...