Dragonfly (34 page)

Ramil advanced, sword still drawn. He had learnt from Yelena never to underestimate a lady.

"That's right, slave scum!" the woman said, clutching her children to her.

"Run me through in cold

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blood!" She wrenched aside her robes, inviting the killing thrust.

Ramil put his sword point on the floor and leant on the hilt.

"I have no intention of doing any such thing, madam. Who are you, pray?"

The woman looked a little confused to have her dramatic gesture rejected but she did not give an inch.

"I am the First Wife of Fergox Spearthrower. I ask no mercy for me or my children. Kill us now, rather than subject us to the mockery and disgrace of being prisoners of slaves."

Ramil bowed, now understanding exactly with whom he was dealing.

"Honored to meet you, madam. I have heard about you from your husband."

The woman laughed wildly. "You? You've heard of me from the Emperor? I think not."

"I did, when guest of your husband in Felixholt. He was planning to dispose of you, if I remember, and replace you in his affections with a younger woman."

The First Wife spat. "The witch!" She had obviously heard the rumors.

"In your place, I would reserve my anger for the husband, not the unfortunate woman of his choice. Anyway, I can assure you that he will not be marrying her." Ramil spun his sword on its tip, wondering what he should do about Fergox's family. The First Wife would make a terrible hostage if Fergox wanted her

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dead--and Ramil had an inkling that he could not live under the same roof as her for long.

"You claim he was going to get rid of me?" The woman hugged her eldest daughter to her side. "He wouldn't dare!"

"I'm afraid he would." Ramil sighed. "I wish no harm to come to any innocents caught up in the transfer of power. But neither can I leave you to cause trouble for me." He had a sudden idea--brilliant if he could negotiate it.

"I would like to offer you the choice to go into exile--you and the other wives."

"Exile? Exile where?" The woman frowned.

"The Blue Crescent Islands. I understand they give shelter to women in their temples and treat them much better than here."

The woman looked aghast. "You would send me to that island of witchcraft and demon worship?"

"Or would you prefer to stay here as a slave captive and await your loving lord to rescue you? He was talking to the royal axeman about your neck last time I saw him."

The First Wife glowered. "It seems I have no choice. I will go into exile, but return triumphant when you meet your doom."

"Quite so. I'm glad you have seen reason. I suggest you leave as soon as I can arrange passage as I fear you won't like the changes I'm about to make to your domestic arrangements." He bowed, waving her in the direction of her pavilion.

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With a flounce of her skirts, the First Wife swept out. "What a woman!"

Gordoc sighed appreciatively as he watched her disappear in a swirl of indignant silk.

The interrogation of the Fourth Crown Princess took place in a plain white room near the Silent Court, the Third Princess on one side of a grille, Tashi on the other. Tashi sensed that her answers did not satisfy her inquisitor.

Court scribes hovered in the background taking notes. Scrupulously keeping to the truth, Tashi admitted that Fergox had told her he had paid for her election and bullied her into doubt for a short while. Korbin seemed less interested when Tashi explained how she had regained her faith and rediscovered the beauty underlying the rituals.

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fear, my sister, your election was tainted from the beginning," the Third Princess announced at the end of the session. "You are blameless in this, but it undermines our system of government if such things are left to stand."

"Perhaps," said Tashi, but then she recalled how the Princess before her represented the most powerful family on Rama. "However, all of us were elected through a system open to human greed and ambition. We have to trust the Goddess's hand is upon the process."

"You are not comparing your case with mine and my sisters', I hope?" Korbin asked primly, fluffing up her robes like a cat with her fur on end.

"Actually I was. I'm sorry if you find that offensive."

The Third Princess twitched her skirts round as

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she walked out of the room, not deigning to give a response.

Well, that went well,
Tashi thought bitterly, tapping her fingers on the table.

The new moon rose over an expectant Rama. The fleet was already far away on its journey to Gerfal, but the people were more interested in the drama close at hand. Tashi's grandmother, the matriarch of the family, had come to court to hear the Third Crown Princess's findings. She had not yet been allowed to see her granddaughter, but had been given a place in the front of the audience for the hearing. The old lady sat grim-faced. If the rumors were true, then their girl had failed them all in a spectacular fashion.

When Tashi was led into the Hall of the Floating Lily, her grandmother was the first person she saw. She had managed to remain calm until this point, but the sight of the matriarch's disapproving expression made her hot with shame and fear. The awareness that she was displaying her emotion made Tashi feel even more wretched. Now she understood the function of all that white paint.

The three Crown Princesses were already seated. In the space usually occupied by the Throne of Nature, someone had found her a plain wooden chair. Tashi sat down quickly, wishing she could make herself invisible.

A bell rang and the Third Princess rose.

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"Taoshira of Kai, I have investigated the matters concerning your fitness to rule and will present my conclusions. Firstly, my sisters join me in regretting the ordeal you endured in Gerfal and your subsequent incarceration. We are aware that this would test the strength of any of us. However--"

Tashi flinched at the "however." She guessed that it boded ill for her.

"Two concerns remain. The first is that you publicly doubted the Goddess, undermining the reputation of our creed before the eyes of the world. This is contrary to your vows of office in which you promised to defend our faith until death."

Tashi pressed her lips together. So Korbin expected her to die rather than waver a fraction. If so, then she could have no conception of what Tashi had endured and how death would have even been welcomed by her. Only Ram had saved her from throwing her life away.

Ram.

I must be strong for Ram,
she thought, and raised her chin.

"The second concern," continued Korbin, "admittedly beyond your control, is that it has emerged that your election was flawed. The Chief Priest on Kai is now under arrest while this matter is investigated. This fact, coupled with your weakness under trial, suggests that you should never have been chosen for the role you now occupy. The Goddess's will was not followed when you were erroneously instated as Princess."

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Tashi put her face in her hands, not wanting them to see her shame. She had never felt worthy, now this was publicly confirmed.

"The procedure in this case is clear. The election is to be declared null and void and a search for the correct candidate to be instigated."

The Second Crown Princess raised her hand.

"Yes, sister?"

"Are we not to vote on this?" Safilen asked, her voice tight with anger.

Korbin shook her head. "We cannot vote to uphold a corrupt election. We have no choice but to reject the false one and quickly find a replacement."

So that was it: they were casting her out. Abruptly, Tashi got up from her seat and turned to go. There seemed no requirement for her presence any longer and she had no stomach to sit through deliberations on the unfortunate girl to succeed her. At least now she could return to Holt and search for Ramil.

That's if he still wanted her when she found him.

"Taoshira, you are not free to leave," the Third Crown Princess said severely.

"I would've thought you would be pleased," Tashi said quietly, standing with her head hung.

"Anyone who has held the office of Crown Princess cannot simply walk out and rejoin society."

"Then I'll go somewhere else, away from the Islands." Tears were running down Tashi's face. She brushed them off, angry at herself for her weakness.

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"But, I repeat, you are not free under law to do so. You must return to the Silent Court and live out your days in the seclusion of the temple."

Tashi spun round to stare in horror at Korbin. "I cannot--I will not believe that this is the Goddess's will for me! You take away my position, my self-respect, and now my last chance to find happiness. I beg you to show mercy."

"Child," the First Crown Princess intervened, "there is no happier being than one who has chosen to serve the Goddess in the Silent Court."

"But I do not choose it--not now, maybe not ever." Her voice cracked with panic.

"Sisters," implored Safilen, "is this necessary? Taoshira has been tested enough. Why not let her be free on her own terms?"

"Because that is not the law," Korbin said resolutely. She turned back to Tashi. "But you may bid your family farewell before returning to the Goddess's Enclosure for the last time. There is no law against that."

Tashi stood for a moment, feeling as if her heart was crumbling into pieces inside her. She had nothing left to live for, no hope of rejoining Ramil, no future. Fergox had been cruel, but this was a trial beyond any she had endured. Mechanically she walked to her grandmother, knelt, and kissed the hem of her robe.

"Sorry," she said briefly, then left with her escort, no longer caring what became of her.

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Fergox's troops had a miserable time marching as fast as they could endure from their camp on the borders of Gerfal to the capital, Tigral--a journey of hundreds of weary miles. The wagon train was ambushed in Brigard.

Stragglers were set upon by bandits in Kandar. By the time they reached the open plains of Holt, they were all itching to be home and take their revenge upon the slave rebels who had caused them to miss the conquest of Gerfal.

Riding at the head of his army on his second-best horse, Fergox knew he was paying for his mistake of pushing ahead with expansion while

neglecting the lands he already owned. He took the lesson philosophically.

Perhaps this slave revolt was a timely reminder. Once the revolt was crushed and the ringleaders disposed of, he would have to impress his rule more firmly on his people. He pondered the punishment of killing a tally of all slaves across the Empire, even those who took no part in the rebellion. If he killed one in five that would reduce his workforce, but he could

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make sure that only the least valuable were chosen to bear the penalty. Yes, that would be fitting and stamp out any embers of revolt. As for the one they called the Dark Prince, some jumped-up slave currently lording it in the palace, he would be executed very slowly in the slave market where he belonged.

Fergox camped at the last crossroads before the city walls and summoned his commanders. In the last few miles, his forces had been swollen by those who had escaped from the city. They brought with them tales of the ferocity of the galley slaves and the widespread unrest. Most of the rich families had fled--if they hadn't been murdered in their beds by their own servants. The middling folk, the shopkeepers and the tradesmen, had stayed to look alter their property, making peace with the slave rulers, but the rich merchants predicted it wouldn't last.

Fergox executed the officers who had been in charge on the day when the palace fell as a reminder to the others what was at stake. He then ordered his troops to form up in their ranks, ready for the onslaught.

"We're facing a rabble army that has been fortunate enough to meet with general incompetence from those whose blood now stains the crossroads,"

Fergox said, gesturing to the headless officers thrown ignominiously to one side. "We'll pass through the city like a cleaver through a carcass and retake the palace. Any civilian on the streets may be counted an enemy and treated accordingly. When we have attained our objective, you may teach the citizens of Tigral a lesson and reward yourselves for your loyal service to me."

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The soldiers thumped their shields. It was rare that Fergox gave them free rein to take plunder after a victory.

"Now ride out!"

The army jingled into action: the infantry marching in tight squares of fifty men, the cavalry sweeping along behind. Fergox had no interest in retaking his capital street by street. His plan was to capture the center of power and then assert his authority over the rest. The slaves would probably crumble at the first sign of real soldiers. They could not possibly have any experience or training to match. He wouldn't be surprised if he was able to stroll in and win just by the terror of his presence.

His views seemed to be confirmed by finding the city gates wide open to receive him. There appeared to be no one mounting a defense--surprising because at the very least he expected the most hardened slaves to try to prevent him from entering. He sent a division of his elite cavalry troops ahead. They clattered over the cobbles, through the gate and into the square beyond. All the shutters on the houses edging the plaza were closed, apparently abandoned. Normally this area was dominated by an equestrian statue of Holin, which looked uncannily like Fergox sitting upon his stolen blue roan warhorse. Today the god had been dismounted, leaving the rearing horse riderless.

Cautiously the cavalry rode on, alert for any sign of resistance. The commander sent outriders ahead to tell them what lay around the bend in the road. They didn't

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come back. He was about to send word of this to Fergox when a sound behind him made him turn in his saddle. The old portcullis, unused for years, crashed down, dividing the cavalry from the main body of the army. A huge man stood by the gate holding an axe, having just severed the portcullis rope with one mighty stroke. Before the commander could give an order, the shutters on the houses flew open and missiles rained down on the riders.