The crispness of the night felt invigorating to Ilarion, bracing and vast. He raised his head and let the wind ravish his face, biting and cruel.

"Such intimate things to impart," Lasha remarked, smoothly. "My brother is demonstrative with his affections, as I'm sure you know."

They were walking at a brisk clip across the yard. Around them staggered the jagged shadows of black mountains against a sky only slightly more light.

"It seems you know a good deal about me, Captain Irinarhov."

He paused, significantly, flicking glacial eyes over Irinarhov's strongly carved profile.

His tone was arid as the whisper of leaves.

"I wonder what Andrei would tell me about you."