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A voice behind Xan says in Plumian, “I see he drank the foribunda.”

Xan turns to see Yerichor. Atticul truly came prepared for this. The guards must have followed him afterall. And instead of rushing in to slay them both, sent word to Atticul so he could arrive at the most ruinous possible moment.

Atticul smiles to see Yerichor and speaks directly to Xan. Yerichor comes close, standing directly behind Xan to relay his words in Plumian. Xan can do nothing. He stands freely but there are too many guards around him, watching him, for him to try anything unarmed.

“I have been told your Plumian woman has escaped the cells. Thanks to you. And you have also slayed many of my guards. But after this I am in a very forgiving mood. In return for this task you have done for me, I will honour you loyally as you have honoured me loyally. I will still gift you your island. You will be king of that rock. A kingdom for fucking a priestly whore. Was an Emperor ever so benevolent? But that’s not all. I will also give you all the rest I promised to you, the Plumians who are currently serving in the Imperial Army. Even Yerichor here, if you want him. But there will be a small price for that. You must pay for your crimes. Shall we say, one year’s indenture. You will serve as General and lead the Plumians to take the Amber Forest after my Ascension. When that forest is mine, your men are yours.”

Xan cannot speak. The worst part of Atticul’s speech is that Jemel will have also heard it all twice. In Atticul’s Artemian and then in Yerichor’s Plumian.

And how could Jemel ever understand the truth? That Xan had not meant to take this deal. That he had thought about it. Even though there was no honourable way to refuse it. But even then, had not been able to accept it. But how could Jemel ever believe that Xan had decided he would give up all Atticul offered, even the Plumians who were being held by Azuria.

As Xan thinks this, staring at Jemel, Jemel lifts his head. His expression is the purest hatred Xan thinks he has ever seen. It is an expression he did not think his priest was capable of.

“At least you seduced me for some fine rewards,” he says in Plumian.

Atticul turns to Jemel making a shushing noise. But something seems to make him pause, gazing at Jemel’s face, he reaches out and wipes away one of Jemel’s tears with a finger, inspects it and licks it into his mouth.

He closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them they flash black for a second in the candlelight, before he claps his hands and barks orders in Artemian. Xan is too exhausted to comprehend them.

Jemel is dragged away. As he passes Xan, he spits on the floor at his feet.

Atticul laughs.

“What happen to priest?” Xan says, addressing Atticul in Artemian as Jemel is taken out into the tunnels.

“Oh,” says Atticul, “terrible things.”

24

DOROTH

Doroth Zain’s body aches from travel. He is nearly sixty summers. Far too great an age to travel like this on horseback.

When he had left Attar for Ceruleum moons ago, he had travelled in a grand carriage with pennant flying displaying the Mark of Zai embroidered in green silk threads on cloth of gold.

But nothing other than hard riding will get them to Ceruleum in time for the Ascension when the weather still remains inclement.

They ride through Hevel Forest in thick cloaks. There are still flurries of snow, even this far south, although not such a vicious storm as it had been in Ceruleum. But the wind is like blades and the rain soaks Doroth to the bones every day.

Kerik Darekul leads the party. He is a good horseman, adventurous and bold, often ignoring fords and bridges to jump rivers, competing with Harok to cross open land at the greatest speeds, making Tobi Darekul — seated in front of Harok — squeal with a mixture of fear and delight, the lycat racing beside them.

Damon rides at the back with Lyr, occasionally sweeping up and down the party’s flank, inspecting and checking the pack animals and the weaker riders.

Eric, Perl and Doroth make up the centre of the party. The least at home riding. But Doroth knows he is the poorest of them all. Kerik has even offered to take Doroth to ride with him on his steed, but Doroth refused, unable to face the shame of riding with Kerik the way Damon and Harok ride with their luxorite lovers.

The journey has been slowed by the weather with frequent stops . They have spent a lot of Doroth’s coin on feed for the horses. But at last they are almost in Attar.

Almost home, Doroth thinks. Is Attar his home? He lived there for years. Longer than he has ever lived anywhere.

Doroth is grateful that as the sky starts to grow purplish, they reach an inn beside the road.

Inside the poky public room, Doroth orders food and ale, oats for the horses. He is asked for coin by the surly serving wench before anything is given. He is not surprised, after days on the road in such rough conditions he must look like a beggar.

But tonight there will be hot food, beds and fires lit. The previous night they had slept on the hard ground and his body still aches from it.

When they are shown to their rooms, Doroth expects, and is given, the smallest of the offered selection. As ever, his company take rooms in the way he expected, to accommodate their sly rutting.

How has it come to this? He was High Word of Zai. He gave his life in service of a demon. And now he rides to commit treason in the company of luxorite bastards.