Sovereign

CHAPTER 30

The autumn sun, still with some of its summer strength, was high in the sky. Kendra shimmered, golden, on its harbour. Pennants flew above towers and from ship masts. The effort needed for the war had slowed down business, but the markets still bustled with people.

Kendra persevered. So far.

Standing on the south gallery of the palace, Areava looked out over her royal city with pride and love and a terrible sadness. She shivered despite the heat of the sun on her skin. She could not help feeling both she and her city were in their last autumn, and that a cold and terrible winter was about to descend on them, a winter without end.

Orkid stood behind her, ashen-faced. The news from Chandra had been almost as great a blow as losing Sendarus and Areava's baby. It was a fundamental wrong, something so unnatural it was hard to believe let alone accept. It was as if the Kingdom was being dismembered the way a calf is dismembered for a feast. Why had destiny turned against Grenda Lear? In all the years he had spent working for Grenda Lear he had come to believe that the whole point of history had been the creation and growing power of the Kingdom, that the

Kingdom had become as unassailable and unchangeable as history itself.

'Your Majesty, the council must meet urgently.'

'Yes,' she said, her voice distant.

'The Great Army is almost complete. It must march at the earliest opportunity, before Lynan can consolidate his position in Chandra.'

'Yes.'

'I will instruct Harnan to issue the summons immediately.'

'And send Dejanus.'

'Your Majesty?'

'Dejanus must leave for the army now. This morning. Order a pinnace from the navy to take him. That will get him to the hosting by tomorrow evening.'

There was no answer from Orkid. She turned to face him. He looked like someone on the verge of making a terrible decision. 'Is there a problem?'

He half shrugged. 'I'm not sure…'

Areava's eyes narrowed. 'Do you think sending Dejanus to command the army is a mistake?'

The question seemed to resolve him.

'No,' he said firmly.

'How long before my people know, do you think?'

'The message came from a carrier pigeon. Only you and I know about it, but as soon as the first merchant ship returning from Sparro arrives word will spread like…' He stopped himself from finishing.

'Like fire, Orkid. Yes. And as destructive.'

'I am sorry, your Majesty.'

'Orkid, tell me, was there any reason for us to suspect that Tomar would forswear? Were there signs we missed? Hints or suggestions in his letters to our court?'

Orkid shook his head. 'If so, none that I caught or understood.'

She massaged her forehead with one hand. 'I do not think Usharna would be in this position. I do not think she would have let things get so out of hand that one of her most trusted rulers would turn on her like this. What have I done wrong, Orkid?'

Orkid shook his head in protest. 'Nothing, your Majesty! The guilt is not yours, but King Tomar's. He has betrayed you. He has betrayed Grenda Lear.'

'Why?' Areava cried. 'Why has he betrayed Grenda Lear?'

Orkid could not reply. He bowed his head in silence.

'Summon the council,' she ordered, cold and angry. 'And get Dejanus to his army.'

Orkid left. Areava turned back to her city. She could imagine the despondency that would set in once the citizens learned of Chandra's desertion. Perhaps even panic. There was now nothing except the Great Army between Lynan and the capital.

Lynan. The name left a bitter taste in her mouth. He represented for her everything that was wrong with the world, a commoner above his station, a rebel and a revolutionary, a traitor and a warmonger. In his wake was nothing but despoliation, ruin, despair, the destruction of the traditions and laws that made Grenda Lear great. And all of this was reflected in his twisted mind, the maelstrom at the heart of her half-brother which the Key of the Sceptre had let her see that night she lost control of her own dreaming. She had touched, tasted, smelled, his insanity, and it made her feel unclean. In all her life she had never been afraid of any person, but now Lynan loomed in her dreams like the shadow of death.

Areava shivered, and wondered if she would ever feel warm again.

Dejanus was roused from his heavy sleep by a sergeant.

'I said I didn't want to be disturbed,' he mumbled.

The sergeant grabbed him by his jerkin and forced him to sit upright.

Dejanus stared at the sergeant's face. 'You!' he roared. It was the same man who had woken him so roughly the day after the city fire. He should have gutted him then, and would have been tempted to do so now if he was not feeling so damnably under the weather. 'What do you think you're doing?'

'The chancellor is here to see you,' the sergeant said.

'The chancellor? Hoot to the chancellor. Let him wait…'

'Under instruction of the queen,' the sergeant interrupted.

Dejanus cleared his throat. 'The queen?'

'Thank you, sergeant,' said Orkid's voice. The sergeant backed away, and his place in Dejanus's limited line of vision was taken by the black-robed chancellor. 'You are to get your fondest wish.'

Dejanus sneered up at him. 'My fondest wish? What would you know about my fondest wish?'

'You've talked about it often enough, complained to all and sundry that you have been deprived of it.'

Dejanus stood up uncertainly. He did not like Orkid's tone one little bit. Uppity bloody Amanite. 'What are you talking about?'

Orkid winced at the stale gust of breath that washed over him". The constable's clothes did not smell much better. 'You had better get cleaned up.'

'I'll get cleaned up when I'm good and ready.'

'You can't greet your army smelling like a wine pot.'

'My army?'

'You've got your orders. The queen wants you to take command of your army personally. Now.'

'Now?' Dejanus supported his head with his hands; why was it feeling so impossibly heavy?

'As I said, you are to get your fondest wish. The army needs you.'

'Why now, for God's sake? What's the hurry all of a sudden?'

'I'll explain to you on the way to your ship.'

'Ship? I'll go bloody overland. I hate ships.'

'You have to be in Chandra tomorrow. You'll go by ship. Order of the queen, I'm afraid.'

Orkid's voice did not sound very apologetic to Dejanus. 'How do I know all of this is really coming from the queen?'

'I'll take you to see Areava right away if you want proof, although I'm not sure she'll appreciate the interruption. It's been a busy morning so far—not that you'll have noticed here in your bed—and promises to get a lot busier yet.'

'I need to pack—'

'Already done, thanks to Sergeant Arad. Good man, that. Might recommend him for promotion to constable.' Dejanus's face flushed in anger. 'After all, after being commander of the greatest army ever seen in Theare, you won't want to go back to being head door-opener in the palace, will you?'

Dejanus did not know what to say. He had certainly never heard of the constable referred to as being 'head door-opener' before. He was damn sure no one ever called it that to Kumul Alarn's face when he constable.

was

'Get cleaned up. I'll be back shortly to escort you down to the docks and explain to you the situation in Chandra.'

Dejanus could feel panic building in him. It was too soon for him to take over real command of the army. He had not been given enough time to prepare. He needed to go over strategy with the queen and tactics with the marshal. He did not even have a general's ceremonial garb yet; at least, not the garb he thought someone in his position deserved.

'Can't someone go ahead of me and prepare the army for my arrival?' he asked, trying hard but unsuccessfully not to sound plaintive.

Orkid, who had always struck Dejanus as being so expressionless—so without normal human feelings—he might as well have been carved from stone, suddenly seemed to become even more inhuman. Dejanus thought he could feel cold radiating from the chancellor. He leaned forward so only Dejanus could hear him and said in a whisper that cut like a whip: 'Listen to me, you oaf. Grenda Lear now faces the most dangerous days in its entire history. Through blackmail, fate and sheer good fortune, you find yourself in command of the one thing that can restore stability and peace to the Kingdom. If you fail, we will all go down under the heel of a conqueror who will have no mercy on you or me; if you succeed, you will become the greatest hero the Kingdom has ever known, greater even than General Elynd Chisal. Not bad for someone who was once a slaver and mercenary without a coin of his own to spend on cheap wine or a diseased whore.'

Before Dejanus could think of a reply, Orkid was gone. Sergeant Arad reappeared. 'Right, sir,' Arad said. 'Best we get you cleaned up right smart.'

'I have a headache,' Dejanus said.

'Unfortunate,' Arad said without sympathy, 'and without remedy. You'll just have to put up with it, sir.'

Powl tried to ignore the knocking on his door.

History, he thought. It is all history.

The knocking would not stop.

'What is it?' he shouted.

The door opened a crack and Father Rown's head appeared. He glanced at all the books and papers on the primate's desk. 'Forgive me, your Grace, but you weren't at service yesterday, nor this morning, and I thought something might be wrong—'

'Nothing is wrong!' Powl yelled.

'Or something I might help you with.'

Powl closed his eyes and breathed deeply to control his temper. 'I need no one's help,' he said between gritted teeth. 'Just leave.'

Rown swallowed. 'Your Grace—'

'Leave! Now!'

'But the queen—' Rown said.

Powl glared at him. 'The queen what?'

'There is an urgent council meeting this afternoon. We have been ordered to attend.'

'Very well,' Powl said tiredly. 'Give me the agenda.'

'There is none. It is an extraordinary council meeting. There will be no discussion of previous items.'

Powl went to the door, opening it wide. Rown looked at him anxiously, obviously wishing he was somewhere else. 'What do you mean no agenda? What's happened?'

Rown shrugged. 'No one is saying.'

'Something to do with the war,' Powl said, more to himself than Rown.

'Almost certainly. Will I come by when it is time to attend?'

Powl nodded absently. 'Yes. Do that. Thank you, Father.' He withdrew and closed the door. What could have happened? And why was no one saying anything? That could only mean the queen alone, or perhaps the queen and Orkid, knew what was going on.

He shook his head in frustration. It isn't important. Compared to his new work, nothing else was important. He went back to his desk where his books and notes waited for him. No one except me understands what it all means. He ran his hand over one of the volumes from the tower of Colanus and laughed softly. The contents of the tower was a kind of joke played by Colanus on all his descendants; not intentionally, of course, but that innocence was the source for some of the irony.

Everyone assumed that because the volumes contained secret knowledge it must involve magik; that was certainly what the first great magikers themselves had assumed. It was also why they failed to translate the volumes: they could not see past their own desires. But Colanus had not gathered together ancient and arcane magikal practices, he had brought together all the myths and legends of ancient Theare to compile a history, a history that told where all the races came from, where the Keys of Power came from, why everything in Theare was the way it was.

So far he had only had enough time to translate small sections from each volume, enough to show him what the collections contained, how the history was organised, and one very special piece of information that intrigued and worried him: Theare, the name of the continent inhabited by all the known peoples from Haxus in the north to the Lurisians and desert Chetts in the south, was an ancient word for prison.

Orkid, late for the extraordinary council meeting, was hurrying back to the palace after delivering Dejanus to his pinnace. The constable had gabbled all the way to his boat, desperately trying to find some excuse that would allow him to stay in Kendra. At last Orkid had told him bluntly to shut up, and before Dejanus could use that as an excuse to fuel his bad temper the chancellor told him about King Tomar's betrayal.

'Chandra is about to fall,' Orkid explained carefully. 'The only thing preventing that, and preventing the way to Kendra being open to Lynan and his army of barbarians, is the Great Army in southern Chandra. Your Great Army.'

The news about Tomar's defection was enough to shut up even Dejanus, and the rest of the trip to the harbour passed without a single word of complaint, giving Orkid's conscience the space it needed to agonise over his decision to support Dejanus for command of the Great Army in the first place. He knew in his bones it was a disastrous choice, but desperately hoped the quality and size of the army would be enough to overcome the failings of its general. Anyway, he consoled himself, he had had no choice: Dejanus could have brought them both down if Orkid had not supported him.

When Orkid arrived at the main gate to the palace he saw it was blocked by a group of twenty or so ragtag riders who were arguing with the Royal Guards on duty. He was about to push through and leave it to the guards to sort out when he heard a voice he recognised.

'God,' he said aloud, 'where did he come from?'

Orkid pushed his way through the stamping crowd and grabbed the reins of the horse closest to the gate.

The rider twisted around, his face suddenly angry, mouth open to curse or swear or shout, but instead said in surprise: 'Chancellor?'

'Galen Amptra? It is you!'

'Would you tell this fool of a guard who I am?'

Orkid hesitated—there was no love lost between him and any member of the Twenty Houses—but in this time of emergency petty rivalries were irrelevant. 'It's alright, let them in,' he said to the guard. 'This is the son of Duke Holo Amptra, and I will vouch for him and his fellow knights.'

'We are not all fellow knights,' said a woman's voice. Orkid glanced at the rider next to Galen, but did not recognise her under the dirt and grime.

'I am sorry, madam, I meant no offence—'

'Not "madam", Chancellor,' Galen said. 'This is Queen Charion of Hume.'

Orkid swallowed. 'My apologies, your Majesty. I had no idea—'

'Understandable in my present condition.'

Orkid waved them through but did not let go the reins of Galen's horse. 'The last we heard you were still with Tomar,' he said. 'We assumed he imprisoned or ambushed you when he changed sides.'

'Tomar gave us safe passage,' Charion said. 'We rode straight here.'

'How many of you are there?'

'There are three hundred of us left,' Galen said, despondent. 'We have fought many battles.'

'Did you speak to Tomar?'

'No. It was Barys Malayka who informed us of the changed political situation in Chandra. And he gave us a letter from Tomar to Queen Areava. If you could help us see her right away I would appreciate it.'

The mention of a letter made Orkid's heart miss a beat. 'Do you know what the letter contains?'

Charion withdrew a piece of folded, brown parchment from her saddlebag and showed Orkid it was still sealed with Tomar's red crest.

'The queen is in emergency council right now,' he said, his words tumbling over one another. 'In fact, I was on my way to join her. Give me the letter and I will make sure she receives it.'

Charion did not hesitate to hand it over. 'Thank you. In that case, if you could assign us rooms for us to clean and change into other clothes…'

'My father will be proud to have you under his roof, Charion,' Galen said.

Orkid noticed the sweet smiles that passed between the two. He was not sure whether or not that boded well for him and the court, but it warranted close attention. He never expected a member of the Twenty Houses to invite someone from the provinces to stay with them, even one as high born as Charion. The arrogance of the Twenty Houses had Jong been one of the constants in Orkid's life at court.

'I think it better if I stay here in the palace,' Charion said. 'To do otherwise might offend Areava, and I would not willingly do that. And you forget that your father is of the old nobility, and they regard me in status as not much better than a Kendran washerwoman.'

Galen opened his mouth to protest, but honesty prevented him. Charion was right. 'Very well, but I won't pretend I'm not disappointed. I will be back as soon as I

I can.' He glanced at Orkid. 'After all, I am a member of the council that is meeting, unless Areava has replaced me.'

'The queen would not do that,' Orkid said. No matter how much I might wish it. 'But the queen will not expect you to attend this afternoon after your long journey and all your travails. Report to her this evening.'

'Until then,' Galen said, this time to Charion. They kissed quickly, and he and the other knights quickly left the palace. Orkid called a passing servant across.

'Accommodation for her Majesty Queen Charion of Hume. The royal guest wing. Make sure she has the clothes and toiletries she needs. And see to her horse.'

The servant nodded, looked skeptically at the woman supposed to be a queen, and took the reins of her horse to lead her away.

'Thank you, Chancellor,' she called over her shoulder. 'I will not forget you came to my rescue at the gate.'

'I'm sure,' he said, not quite loudly enough for her to hear. He hurried to his office and carefully unsealed Tomar's letter. As he had been afraid, it detailed Tomar's reasons for siding with Lynan, including an account from Lynan of the events on the night of Berayma's murder. With one important exception—the conclusion that Areava must have been complicit in the plot that put her on the throne—the account was accurate. When he had finished reading it he lit one corner over a candle and watched the parchment burn to a cinder on his desk.

It seemed to Olio that when Areava broke the news to her council that Tomar had declared for Lynan it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Mouths gaped open but no one could say a word.

Olio, who was the first to recover from the shock, asked: 'What about the Great Army?'

'Still encamped in south Chandra,' Areava said. 'Dejanus is on his way there right now.'

'So there is still a buffer between Lynan and Kendra?' asked an anxious Shant Tenor.

'Yes. There is a buffer in time as well. It will take Lynan several days for his army to reach Sparro from Daavis, and several days after that for them to reach the south.'

'But Tomar could attack first,' one of the nobles said. 'He need not wait for Lynan.'

'Tomar would not dare attack the Great Army by himself,' Orkid said derisively. 'He is not stupid.'

There was a shocked gasp from the members of the Twenty Houses; even Areava seemed surprised at the chancellor's uncharacteristic outburst.

'By the way, Duke Amptra,' Orkid continued, nonchalantly, addressing another of the nobles, 'your son is safe and waiting for you at home.'

'Galen? He is returned?'

'What is this, Orkid?' Areava demanded.

'Galen and the survivors of the knights were given safe passage back to Kendra from Chandra. They arrived just before the meeting. They have brought Queen Charion with them.'

'Why were they not invited here immediately?'

'I thought it best they have a chance to rest. They were exhausted, and had nothing except the clothes they arrived in.'

'Did they bring anything else with them?' Areava asked. 'A letter or proclamation from Tomar?'

'A letter,' Orkid said carefully. 'It contained nothing but slander and lies.' His eyes flickered. 'Against you, my queen. I burned it in anger.'

'Orkid?'

'I am sorry, your Majesty. I know it was wrong—'

'Very wrong,' she said. There was no anger in her voice, but that seemed to make the judgement worse for

Orkid. 'The letter would have ensured history noted the justness of our cause.'

He bowed his head. 'I realise that now, your Majesty, and apologise to you and the council for my lack of foresight.'

Areava carefully regarded the chancellor. 'We have other things to discuss now.'

'City defences, for example,' the marshal said from the opposite end of the table. 'Just in case the Great Army fails to stop Prince Lynan.'

Olio saw a look of panic cross the faces of many members of the council.

'We can begin by diverting some of the Great Army's forces still on their way to Chandra to garrison duty here,' the marshal continued.

'No,' Areava said quickly. 'The Great Army is still Kendra's best defence, and it makes no sense to weaken it. We have the Royal Guards, still the best soldiers in all of Theare. Kendra will be safe.' She caught each of the city representatives in her gaze. 'And I count on all of you to get out that message.'

There were subdued murmurs of agreement around the table, and a discussion started on how best to prepare Kendra for a possible siege. Olio contributed by suggesting he cooperate with Edaytor Fanhow and the primate to establish hospices and surgeries, an idea warmly received, but then found himself with little to add as the discussion moved to wall-building and troop deployment. He noticed that Orkid himself was contributing little; he seemed distracted and nervous, which was entirely out of character. The other surprise was the primate. It was not a matter of Powl being distracted—he gave the impression his mind was completely absent, and poor Father Rown sitting next to him was fidgety and seemed out of his depth. Could Fowl have been so shocked by the news of Tomar's betrayal? Olio had thought Powl a man with deeper reserves than that; he saw Areava occasionally throw furtive glances towards the two clerics, obviously expecting the primate to speak up on several of the issues raised by others.

'Primate?' Areava eventually urged. 'Have you anything to add to this discussion?'

Powl's eyes slowly focused on the queen. 'No, your Majesty. At this point I have nothing to say.' Then his eyes seemed to glaze over again.

'Ah, ah,' Rown said, swallowing heavily, 'I believe his Grace fully supports Prince Olio's suggestion of establishing hospices and other places to deal with any wounded the city might… umm… incur during the protraction of a… ah… siege.'

Areava nodded slowly. 'I see,' she said, and continued with the meeting.

Areava held two audiences in her private chambers that evening. The first was with Orkid.

'I find it hard to believe you destroyed the letter from Tomar,' she told him.

Orkid could not meet her gaze. 'It was unforgivable, I know,' he said, his head bobbing like some peasant supplicant from the country. 'My only defence is that his | intemperate language fired my devotion to you.'

'So you fired the letter,' she added dryly.

'Your Majesty.'

'It is unlike Tomar to be intemperate about anything. He always struck me as a level-headed, reasonable person.'

'What level-headed and reasonable person could betray his monarch?'

'I was hoping the letter would tell me.'

'It was a rant, nothing more. Spiteful. Hateful.'

'Nevertheless, it was my letter.'

'I regret there is little I can do about it.'

'Of course you can. We still have some of Tomar's pigeons?'

Orkid swallowed. He knew where this was going.

'Orkid?'

'I am not sure. I will have to check with the pigeon keeper.'

Areava stared at the chancellor. 'How could he not have at least one?'

Orkid shrugged. 'I cannot speak for him, your Majesty—'

'I am not asking you to speak for him. At any rate, if there is a pigeon, we send a message to Tomar asking him to send us another copy of his letter.'

'And if there is no pigeon?'

'We send a messenger under a sign of parley.'

Orkid was astounded. 'All this for a letter from a traitor?'

'All this so I can read what he said.'

'I have already told you what he said.'

Areava's voice rose. 'I desire to read it for myself!'

Orkid realised he had gone too far with his argument. He bowed and retreated a step.

'And when I get the letter I expect the seal to be unbroken,' she added.

Orkid felt sweat start to bead his forehead. She was suspicious of his action in burning Tomar's letter, that much was certain, but was that all she was suspicious about?

He bowed again.

There was a knock on the door, and a guard entered. 'Your Majesty, it is Queen Charion and Galen Amptra to see you, as you requested.'

'Let them in, thank you. The chancellor was just leaving.'

Orkid left, closing the door behind her two new guests.

Areava stood to greet Charion formally. 'We are honoured to receive our sister from Hume.'

Charion curtsied. It was not easily done, since Areava was the only person in the world she was obliged to curtsy to and she was out of practice, but there was no hesitation in the action. 'Your Majesty,' she said, and bowed her head as well.

Galen bowed even lower. 'We are sorry to have been the bearer of such bad tidings, your Majesty.'

'On that score do not fret yourself,' Areava told them. 'We had heard earlier in the morning. A private message had come by carrier pigeon.'

'Ah, then the letter revealed nothing new.'

'Alas, the letter never reached me. My chancellor, in his haste to defend my honour, destroyed it.'

'Your honour?' Charion was puzzled.

'He tells me King Tomar's letter was scandalous and insulting to my person.'

Charion and Galen exchanged surprised glances.

'Did you not find it so?' she asked them.

'We had not read it, your Majesty. It was still sealed when we handed it over to Orkid.'

'I did not know.' She waved them both into seats. 'I have heard of the valiant actions your knights have taken part in, Galen. You will be pleased to know that in his last communication to me, Sendarus praised you and your companions most highly.'

'Thank you. Sendarus had become a friend before he died, and had earned the respect of all who served under him.'

'Including me,' Charion said, 'although we did not exactly get on at first.'

Areava almost smiled then, but thought better of it. She was touched more deeply than they could know by their memories of her husband, but this was not the time for her to dwell in the past. 'Thank you. Now tell me everything you can about Lynan and his army. Assume I know nothing.'

From then until deep into the night, the three of them discussed only the war. Areava was disturbed, but not surprised, by stories of Lynan's changed nature. She was also disturbed by her guests' account of new Chett tactics and formations, such as the lancers and the Red Hands. It was soon apparent that the only real setback Lynan had suffered was the death of Kumul Alarn.

'Are you suggesting my brother cannot be beaten?' Areava asked with an undercurrent of anger.

'No, your Majesty,' Charion said firmly. 'His army, at least, can be beaten. We proved that in the first battle. As for defeating Lynan himself, well…' she nodded to the Key of the Sceptre hanging from Areava's neck '… you may be the only one who can deal with him.'

'You think it will come to that? You think his army will reach Kendra?'

'I do not say to that,' Charion said. 'But one way or another, I believe he will reach Kendra.'

Areava slapped the arms of her chair. 'I should have taken command of the Great Army!'

'To what purpose? Are you a better general than this Dejanus I have been told has command?'

'We are both untried,' she said.

'But he has seen combat.'

'Yes,' she admitted grudgingly.

'Then forgive me, your Majesty, for I do not doubt your courage, but Dejanus may prove to be the wiser choice after all. Defeating Lynan's army and defeating Lynan are two separate issues.'

Areava slumped in her chair. The day had not been one of any cheer and a great deal of gloom. She was exhausted, and now was showing it. 'Do you know,' she said, subdued, 'that I have not Jeff the palace since my coronation?'

Charion and Galen exchanged glances, but it was not a question that invited response.

'Thank you both for coming tonight,' Areava said, standing up. 'We will talk again before long.'

Charion and Galen stood up. 'Your Majesty, one request,' Galen asked.

'If I can grant it.'

'My knights and I can re-equip ourselves with armour before another day has gone, and then it is only two days hard ride to where the Great Army gathers. If you would—'

'I read your mind, Galen Amptra, but no. Your number now is so small that no matter how valiant you prove yourselves to be, you will not decide the day of battle one way or the other; yet if Lynan and his army should reach Kendra, your contribution here could be decisive.'

Galen could not hide his disappointment, but he nodded. 'As you wish.'

As they were leaving, Areava said: 'Galen, I find it hard to reconcile myself with the Twenty Houses, for long they were enemies of my mother and—I believed—myself, but obviously there are some in that group whom I would have as friends.'

'You may have more friends in the Twenty Houses than you know, your Majesty,' Galen replied.

It was dark and cold on the sea. The Gentle Tide was not big enough for Dejanus's liking, heaving low to the water and too easily rolled by any wave. Its crew of ten worked the single lateen sail and sheets with practised ease but had little time for the constable as night voyages were never completely safe, no matter how well the captain might pretend to know the route.

Left largely to his own devices Dejanus sat behind the wheelhouse which protected him from the worst of the spray for the whole journey, standing up only to relieve himself over the side; the first time he went for a piss he almost slipped over the wale, resulting in him emptying his stomach as well as his bladder into the churning waves.

By the time the Gentle Tide was easing against the dock of a small fishing village in south Chandra the sun was still an hour from rising and he could see there was no one to greet him. As soon as the pinnace was secured he got off, leaving no thanks for the captain and her crew for the safe and quick journey. They silently cursed him and then set about unloading the rest of their cargo.

Dejanus walked into the village, heading for the building that most looked like it might be the local equivalent of an inn. The door was locked. He banged on it until some old, sleep-encrusted man opened it a crack and demanded to know who was banging away at this hour. Dejanus used his strength to shove the door wide open, sending the man sprawling on the floor. He stepped in and saw the long drinking bench that showed he had guessed right. In the wall opposite the bench a large fire still burned.

'My name is General Dejanus,' he said. 'Are any of my officers staying here?'

'One, your Mightiness,' the man grovelled. 'He arrived late last night—'

Dejanus picked the man up by the collar of his nightshirt. 'You are going to do three things. First, get me a warm wine. Second, wake the officer and tell him to report to me immediately. Third, make me breakfast. I'm very hungry.'

'Yes, your Mightiness!' the man said and disappeared, his feet pattering away into the darkness behind the bench.

Dejanus chose a seat near the fire, put his legs up on one of the tables and waited. Before he was warm the old man returned with a wooden cup brim full with mulled wine and cinnamon. Half a cup later a skinny, nervous ensign appeared, helmet under one arm and a sheaf of papers under the other.

'Why weren't you at the dock to greet me?' Dejanus demanded.

'Sir, you weren't due until this morning.'

Dejanus considered humiliating him, but he was tired after the voyage and there was no audience to learn the lesson. Instead, he harrumphed and pointed to the papers. 'What are those?'

'The General's papers, sir.'

'I don't have any papers, Ensign.'

'Begging your pardon, General, sir, but Chancellor Orkid Gravespear says you do.' With that the ensign held them out. Dejanus, automatically flushing with the mention of Orkid's name, took them with little grace.

'Is there anything else the general wants, sir?'

'Hoping to get back to bed, Ensign?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Well, sit down. You can wait until I've gone through each and every one of these papers. Before you do, though, see what's holding up my breakfast and get me a proper lantern.'

Dejanus turned over the first paper. It had something to do with supplies, but he was not sure if it was supplies that had arrived or supplies still to come or supplies awaiting distribution. Under items were listed shoes, belts, pots. Then there were three other columns, and he had no idea what they represented. The second paper was an invoice from a local farmer, but Dejanus could not tell if it had been paid or not. The third paper was a series of squares linked by lines, and each square had the name of a Lurisian infantry unit in it. What was this supposed to represent? He scrabbled through the papers for something useful, for something he could understand and act on. One of the last papers had his name on the top, and the names of other officers underneath, one or two of which he recognised. These were the commanders of the units in his army. Probably cocky long-servers all of them, thinking they were going to have it all over him because he had been 'head door-opener' in the palace. Well, he would show them, he would show them all.

The ensign and old man returned, the latter carrying a large tray with bacon and eggs and ham and another cup of mulled wine.

'I'll just go and get the young officer some,' he said as he scurried away.

'You'll do no such thing!' Dejanus roared after him, and then to the ensign: 'You can wait until bloody morning when everyone else gets fed.'

'Sir,' the ensign said dejectedly.

Dejanus put the papers aside. He would put them all on the spike at the shit hole when he got to the army camp. He wondered if generals got their own shit hole.

He turned to the food and wolfed it down. The voyage had made him hungry. Must have been all that sea air. And jittery. He could not sit still.

'So much to do,' he mumbled around a mouthful of lam.

'Sorry, sir?'

Dejanus glared at the ensign. 'I was talking over my breakfast. But since you asked… how far to the camp?'

'About an hour's ride, General. I've got two horses ready for us.'

'Good. Get packed. Now. We leave as soon as I finish here.'

The ensign sighed resignedly and left to pack.

'I'll show you all,' Dejanus said to his back.

The ensign pretended not to hear.