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before the huge banded doors of the keep. Winterburne looked up at his adoptive mother and smiled as he approached her. Even at this god-forsaken hour she still looked as prim and preened as she ever did and must have been up and about at some ridiculous hour to look that good.

  'Hold this for a moment, will you, Milo?' Winterburne handed over the leather rein and then walked across to where Lady Amanda stood.

  'My Lady,' he said taking her hand and kissing it warmly.

  He gave her a full bow in acknowledgement of her status and even though he was Lord Winterburne, and all these lands were officially his, tradition dictated that the mother of the Lord of the Manor was still to be revered.

  'Come here,' she said, throwing her arms around him and pulling him close, squeezing him tightly.

  He returned the hug, enjoying the closeness that they had now found after all these years. 'I'm sorry that there is not enough time to say goodbye properly.'

  'I understand.' Amanda pushed herself away a little and looked him in the eyes. 'But next time,' she said, pointing at him and digging her finger into his chest, 'do not leave it so long before you come back to see me. I am getting old, and I want to see you again. Soon.'

  A tear formed in the corner of Amanda's eye, and she reached up to wipe it clear. There was a moment of silence between the two of them but eventually she said, 'I respect your decision to return, Thomas, but I still wish you could have stayed.'

  'I know.' Winterburne leaned forward and kissed her cheek. 'But that was never going to happen, and I think deep down you know it too. I will return soon, I am sure...mother.'

  He thought about his brother for a moment. The woman did not yet know about Robert's betrothal to Marea and for sure he would do his utmost to make sure that he returned for the wedding. Although, whether he did that alone remained to be seen.

  Amanda lifted her hand and brushed Winterburne's face. 'I think that during this visit, it is most you have ever called me mother unbidden.'

  Winterburne smiled, and took her hand, kissing it again. 'I am comfortable with the thought at last, I think. For most of my life, you have been just that, and you deserved more respect than I ever showed you.'

  'It was hard for you, I know.' Amanda smiled. 'I could never have replaced your real mother, and I never tried. But, I do think of you as my own flesh and blood, you know. I am proud of you, and of what you have achieved.'

  Winterburne looked away for a moment, feeling somewhat embarrassed, and then he turned back. 'Robert seemed happy when I bade him farewell, this morning.'

  His brother had planned his special piece of news for her later that day and he would have so much liked to have seen Lady Amanda's face when he told her.

  'He mentioned that he wanted to talk to me about something. But, he wouldn't tell me what it was.' Amanda frowned. 'It is not like him. Lord knows what it is that he wants to speak about.'

  Winterburne chuckled.

  Amanda glared at him. 'You know, don't you?'

  'I have an inkling.' Winterburne smiled, and winked at Amanda.

  'But you won't tell me?'

  Winterburne shook his head.

  Amanda tapped Winterburne on the shoulder, playfully. 'That is so unfair, Thomas, you know I don't like secrets.'

  'Not this time, mother. You always used to tell me that it was wrong to tell tales about people, so I'm not going to start now.'

  Amanda smiled. 'Then I suppose that I will have to wait a little while longer.'

  'You will,' Winterburne said, leaning forward to kiss the woman on the cheek one last time. 'I must go.'

  Lady Amanda nodded as he turned towards Cromwell and his waiting horse. He could sense her watching him as he marched across to his mount and climbed up into the saddle. He glanced back one more time.

  The woman waved towards him. 'Be careful, Thomas!' she called.

  Winterburne raised his hand, and then kicked into the side of his horse as he and Cromwell drove their beasts out of the courtyard at a gallop and across the wooden drawbridge.

  20

  The Tenth Day of Midsummer,

  Imperial Year 2332

  As Winterburne and Cromwell travelled north, leaving the shelter of the heavy forest, the very nature of the land changed. Whereas in the days before, there was the leafy shade of the oak and the elm, now there was the openness of the grassy plain with its vast wide-open skies, lonely rocky outcroppings and a changeable weather that could swap from hot and dry one hour to wet and windy the next and back again several times a day. They were near the sea too, less than a dozen miles to the west, and the wind, which also seemed to be a permanent feature of Highport, cut sharply across their path.

  Winterburne lifted his gaze to the horizon, raising his hand to shelter his eyes from the noon sun. A speck, the colour of sand, sat on the horizon, far away in the distance. His heart began to pound in his chest.

  'Look!' he said, pointing to the horizon. 'There are the outer walls of Highport, at last.'

  'I see them, Sir,' Cromwell replied. 'We're nearly home,' he said, smiling. He could barely conceal the excitement in his voice. 'And, it feels like we've never been away.'

  Winterburne thought about the time that he had spent back on the estate. 'It does for me,' he said. 'It has been two and a half months,' he added, 'and there is much that can change in that time.'

  'You do not regret coming back, do you, Sir?'

  'No, of course not,' Winterburne smiled at Cromwell and kicked into his horse again, pressing the beast on and towards the South Gate.

  As the walls came ever closer he looked up to the city again. 'Highport,' he said, 'an oasis of calm and tranquillity in a chaotic and turbulent world.' He looked to his companion and winked. 'Or is it perhaps the other way around?'

  'You could well be right, Sir.' Cromwell laughed, and then fell silent for a moment, his face becoming still. 'Emperor Frederick asked me to bring you directly to the Palace as soon as you returned to the city.'

  'So he had already taken it for granted that I would return.'

  'Was there ever any doubt?'

  'I suppose not.'

  'I'll escort you to the Palace.'

  'No.' Winterburne shook his head. 'I can't go there directly. I have somewhere important to go first.'

  'Emperor Frederick was most insistent, Sir.'

  Winterburne grinned. 'Emperor Frederick is always insistent, Milo, but you will really need to learn when you're safe to push your luck to the limit.' He smiled. 'Like now.'

  'But—'

  'No buts, Captain,' Winterburne said. 'It's not negotiable. Anyway, I won't say anything, if you don't.'

  Cromwell raised his eyes to the sky, shaking his head as they rode on towards the city.

  oOo

  The long dark alleyway ended abruptly, opening out into a small paved courtyard, its walls rising vertically upwards for three storeys. In places, fallen plaster revealed the red brick of the walls beneath and here and there grubby windows looked down upon the scene, their faded shutters opened wide to let in as much light as they could. Washing had been hung out to dry on thick tightly-drawn strings that stretched across the courtyard, just above head height and Winterburne ducked around the wet blankets and other garments as he pushed his way past.

  In the far corner of the courtyard lurked a green painted door, small and unassuming with the paint peeling from its shabby surface in large flakes. In truth, unless he had not been previously shown its location, he would not even have known that the place existed, tucked away as it was.

  He approached the door and knocked twice times on the weather-worn surface. A moment passed and then, without warning, it swung open.

  A dirty-faced Luke Vawdrey stood at the entrance. 'I'm getting it!' he called.

  Luke was looking over his shoulder into the room behind him, and then he turned to face Winterburne. His eyes widened for a moment and then closed to slits as he realised who it was that stood at the threshold.

  'Well, well,' he said. 'Look a
t what the cat brought in on its paws.'

  'Hello, Luke,' Winterburne said. The boy had always been confident and even after all this time he he didn't seem afraid to stretch an insult as far as he could. 'Velvet-tongued as always, I see.'

  'Why have you come back?' Luke almost spat the words, and a sneer crossed his face.

  'Why do you think?'

  'I don't know,' Luke replied, 'you tell me. Maybe you have come to twist the dagger more than you already have and to drive it further into her heart.'

  Winterburne frowned. 'Luke, that's not fair.'

  'Don't speak to me of what is fair. Is it fair that I had to cradle her in my arms as she cried the same tears that I saw her cry when my father died?' His eyes were cold as he gave a look that could have brought down a charging bull.

  Winterburne remained silent as his heart sank and he lowered his head. The boy had a point, he knew, but then he lifted his head looking him in the eye.

  'I had hoped that perhaps I could right that wrong. If given the chance.'

  'Hmm,' Luke said. 'By rights, I should kick your ass all the way to the back end of next year and never tell her that you were even here.'

  Winterburne smiled as he imagined the image. 'You could try, and you would probably be within your rights to do it, too.'

  The boy looked back at him and shook his head.

  'But I would rather that you tell her that I am here,' Winterburne added.

  Luke looked him up and down for what seemed like a long moment and then turned and shouted into the darkness of the dwelling. 'It's for you!'

  Alyssa's voice called back from deep inside. 'I'm coming!'

  A moment passed