Once the introductions and acknowledgements had been made, the Bolkando raised their goblets, and everyone drank. The liquid was foul and Tanakalian fought down a gag. Seeing their expressions, the Chancellor smiled. ‘Yes, it is atrocious, is it not? Blood of the King’s fourteenth daughter, mixed with the sap of the Royal Hava tree—the very tree that yielded the spike thorn that opened her neck vein.’ He paused, and then added, ‘It is the Bolkando custom, in honour of a formal parley, that he sacrifice a child of his own to give proof to his commitment to the proceedings.’ Krughava set the
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