Ramil on the back. "I think you'll like her, Ramil. A fearsome warrior. She'll give us good sport on the practice courts tomorrow."
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Ramil took the offered spyglass and saw the banners of the Inkar
Yellowtooth crest the last hill. A soldier with an iron helmet, two plaits of grey hair, and a leaf-
shaped shield rode in the vanguard.
"There she is!" Fergox said. "Let us go down and meet her." He whistled for his groom to saddle his blue roan. "I don't want her complaining that I slighted her."
The elite troops were rushing to mount up to provide Fergox with a guard of honor. A groom led
forward Fergox's horse and a stout mare for Ramil.
Fergox slipped on his gloves, eyeing the prince speculatively.
"I believe I can trust you to attempt no foolishness, young prince, if I allow you a mount?"
"But of course, my lord. 1 have long since given up hope or desire to flee,"
Ramil said meekly. "Where would I go with the snows deep in the mountain passes and your
army encamped on the road?"
"Quite so. I'm glad you understand. We have been getting on well; I would hate to make the
conditions of your stay here less comfortable. Come, let us see what the old girl makes of you."
The guard of honor trotted off in advance, Fergox and Ramil following at an easy pace. They
arrived at the town gates just as the Inkar galloped up, her banner fluttering behind her.
"Junis!" cried Fergox, nudging his horse towards his sister and embracing her from the saddle.
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The Inkar raised her visor revealing a keen-eyed face with a wolfish grin.
Her front teeth lived up to her
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nickname, abnormally long and yellow. 'Tergox, I came as promised."
Her brother gripped her forearm. "I only asked you here to share the spoils.
Our little war will soon be over and we can return south. But I am pleased to see you arrive in
time for Midwinter."
"I'm not one to miss a feast, brother. Now tell me, where are your two bargaining chips? I'd like to see them."
Fergox gave a grin to match hers. "I thought as much. Let me introduce you to Prince Ramil ac
Burinholt." He waved his arms to where Ramil was waiting quietly on his mare.
Ramil bowed in the saddle. "Lady," he said politely, though he had never seen anyone less
ladylike in his life. He had just been wondering what kind of marriage his father might have had
with this fearsome woman if that alliance had gone ahead. He could see why his father had run
for the desert.
Junis urged her horse forward and gave Ramil a frank inspection. "Not much of Lagan about you,
is there, Prince Ramil? I suppose you get your coloring from your mother?"
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"Indeed, my lady, I look much like she did."
Junis turned back to her brother. "Has he tried to escape?"
"Of course," replied Fergox.
"Good. Any use with the weapons?"
"An accomplished warrior."
"Excellent. I look forward to seeing more of our young guest. And what about the other?"
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"With the priesthood." Fergox gestured to his sister to ride on. They trotted side by side with Ramil just behind, listening to every word.
"Still not broken in yet?"
"Not yet."
"You're being too kind, Fergox. You should just declare her a convert, marry the wench and have
done. Who cares what she really believes once she's your wife?"
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Fergox frowned. "I will not take an infidel as my bride. Flolin would be most displeased."
Junis was unimpressed. "All this fuss over one girl! Take her as a concubine then. That will send the message to the Blue Crescent Islands that their surrender is inevitable."
"That is not the plan, Junis," Fergox said sternly. "Remember, I have worked towards this moment for years and will not throw it away on a hasty gesture. I need a public renunciation of
the goddess from the girl. She must be the one to bring her people to the true faith. Don't
underestimate me, Junis; we are making progress with her."
The Inkar laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't know, Fergox.
When did you get so . . . so political?"
Fergox smiled at his sister's look of disdain, his anger subsiding. "In my old age, it seems to me that spreading the faith of Holin Warmonger is even more important than conquest."
Junis gave a sceptical snort. "But the god of battle demands blood, not weasel words."
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"And blood he will get--the blood of thousands of new believers shed willingly in his service.
Think how he will reward me--my empire spread across the known world united by worship of
Holin, an impressive legacy to leave my dynasty." Breaking away from the dream, he swung
towards his sister, thumping her on the arm. "But you, you are just as you've always been, Junis.
Admit it, you have always had the soldier's attitude, wishing to run complications through with
your sword if they get in the way."
"Is there any other kind of attitude, brother?" "Not in your lands perhaps.
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Come, let us go somewhere warm. We have plans to discuss and a barrel of good, strong beer to
broach."
The last few days had passed like an evil dream for Tashi. Something had snapped inside her
since Fergox told her about his bribe. Doubting herself, her resistance had become habit rather
than deeply felt. Indeed, she had been sucked dry of any feeling except despair. She could see
no escape from her suffering, not even Ramil's promise to help, as she did not believe he had it
in him to pull off a successful rescue. In any case, she was an outcast, cursed, a fake, not
deserving of help. She had begun to hope that some lucky accident on the practice courts would
put an end to her misery, but so far her trainer had refrained from any action that would
produce serious injury.
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At the end of each session her trainer made her kneel in the sawdust as he asked her to name
the supreme god. Since Fergox's visit, she now replied, "I do not know," before being led away.
And it was true. She no longer knew.
This was happening to her for one of three reasons, she concluded: because the Goddess was
inferior to Holin and powerless to stop him; or she had only ever been a delusion; or, worst of
all, she had abandoned Tashi, in which case she was her Mother no more. The one and only
Goddess, the creator of the universe, had shut out Fergox's false princess, cut Tashi off from her
people. Who now could Tashi serve, cursed creature that she was?
The eve before Midwinter, Tashi saw that there was a newcomer to the practice courts. A
woman with long grey hair was sparring with Fergox, laughing wildly and slashing at his shield
with a curved sword. Their bout was attracting all eyes, even Ramil's; he was leaning over the
barrier watching the battle with a grim smile. Tashi's trainer signalled for her to stay back.
Fergox smashed the blade from his sister's hand. It flew into the air and spiralled into the dust.
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"Do you submit?" he shouted.
"Not likely!" cried Junis, catching him with a blow from her shield so that the ruler of most of the known world fell on his rump. He leapt up and chased his sister round the ring, threatening her
with the flat of the sword. She finally turned and gave a sweeping bow.
"I yield, brother. I am pleased to see you have not gone soft over the past year."