Sovereign

'The books,' he said aloud. 'Something about the books.' He studied the spines closely, but there was nothing about them that seemed extraordinary. 'Except that they are in this strange room and completely unreadable.'

Powl pulled another book out and held the spine up to the light. That's when he saw it. His attention hadn't in fact been caught by something visible but by something he had felt with the tip of his finger. The spine was embossed about a third of the way down. He angled the book to see if he could cast a shadow, but the embossing was too shallow. He ran his finger along all the spines again, this time at the same level. They were all embossed.

'Is this the clue, dear God?' he asked. 'Is your name hidden somewhere in these volumes?'

His desperation made him want to believe it. Perhaps God had forgiven him his terrible crime. Perhaps his prayers had not been for nothing after all.

'And all because of this?' Olio asked, holding up the Key of the Heart.

'And all because of that,' Edaytor said, looking at it the way he might a spider. 'I wish you would not handle it so readily.'

'It is harmless now.'

'You must not use it.'

'I have no intention of using it.'

'You have not come across any sick.'

'I will stay locked in the palace.'

'Well and good,' Edaytor said. 'But remember that the common people now know what you are capable of.'

'They know what the Key is capable of. By all accounts I was nothing more than its conduit. Anyone could use it.'

'I do not think so. The Keys were made by your ancestor for the rulers of Grenda Lear, not for any other mortal.'

Olio slipped the Key under his shirt. 'Well and good then; it means no one else will be subjected to its power as I was.'

'How are you feeling now?'

Olio shrugged. 'I am not sure. How am I supposed to feel? How did I feel the day before I lost my mind? Is it the same as I feel now? I no longer know these things. I do not know if how I am now is how Olio was before the fire. I do not know myself any more. I have the mind of an adult with the memory of an infant.'

'You have not forgotten everything, surely? You remember Kendra, your sister, the death of your mother and the murder of Berayma.'

'And the outlawry of my brother,' Olio said sadly. 'Yes. Facts and places and names I remember, but not what I felt or knew about them. I have vague recollections of being fond of Lynan—'

'You were,' Edaytor confirmed. 'You talked of him frequently and with great sorrow.'

'—and yet I feel nothing at all about him now. I could not care less that he is an outlaw if it was not for the fact that he is threatening the Kingdom. For that I owe him my spite and not my love, brother or no.'

'I see,' Edaytor said quietly. 'And what of Areava? How do you feel about her? Or any of your other friends?'

Olio smiled at him. 'You, you mean?'

Edaytor blushed.

'As soon as I saw you both I knew I cared about you, and that is how I feel.'

Edaytor's blush deepened. 'Perhaps it would be the same with Lynan then.'

'Perhaps,' Olio said shortly. 'That is something I do not wish to ponder. I cannot imagine a time when we might see each other again.'

'His army might reach Kendra.'

'No army has ever reached,Kendra.'

That does not mean there won't be a first time, Edaytor thought, but kept it to himself.

Areava went white with fury as she read the minutes from the first meeting of the Great Army Committee. As she read each page she screwed it up in her fist and threw it to the floor. Harnan Beresard picked up each ball and flattened it out again, softly tsking through his teeth. Was it only secretaries who realised the importance of every single copy of every document?

When she got to the last sheet she waved it under Orkid Gravespear's nose. 'And what were you doing while Dejanus was plotting to destroy my Kingdom from the inside?' she demanded.

Orkid sighed, spread his hands. 'I don't think the matter is helped by exaggerating—'

'Inflation!' she cried over him. 'Conscription! Treason trials!'

'I know it sounds bad—'

'Bad!' She screwed up the last sheet and threw it over her shoulder. Harnan scrabbled quickly enough to catch it before it hit the floor. 'It sounds disastrous! Who gave him leadership of the committee?'

'He took it upon himself. He is commander of the Great Army, after all.'

'Commander, yes!' Areava said, jabbing Orkid in the chest with each syllable. 'Dictator, no!'

'They are only recommendations,' Orkid countered.

'Recommendations for the destruction of Grenda Lear. If I forced the provincial rulers to introduce conscription they would be overthrown and their people would open the gates of their capitals for Lynan and his Chetts to just stroll in. There were five of you on the committee, not just Dejanus. Why didn't you take control?'

'He is hard to counter at the moment. After all, he is commander—'

'If you remind me Dejanus is commander of the Great Army just one more time I will punch you on the nose!'

Orkid retreated a step. Even Harnan Beresard retreated a step. And Areava herself seemed surprised by her threat.

'I'm sorry,' she said, shaking her head. 'It's just that I can't believe you, of all people, let Dejanus get away with this.'

Orkid could only spread his hands again. He could not say the words himself. Areava had to do it without his help.

'He cannot stay on the committee,' she said. 'There's nothing for it. He stays as commander, but the committee will be responsible for all logistical and administrative issues concerning the Great Army until it is ready to march to war.'

'I cannot agree,' Orkid said, making sure he spoke loudly enough for Harnan to hear and trying not to sound as relieved as he felt. 'It was his first meeting. If he is allowed a second chance—'

'If he is allowed a second chance I may end up receiving the committee's advice to execute everyone in the Kingdom with Chert blood! No, Orkid, my mind is made up. There is no place for Dejanus on the committee.'

'Who will you replace him with?'

'No one for the moment. That's a decision I will make in council.'

'Will you tell him?'

'Must I?'

'It would be better coming from you.'

'God. Alright.' She turned to Harnan. 'Ask the constable to come and see me right away.'

Harnan bowed and hurried off.

'He's not going to like this,' Orkid warned her.

Areava snorted through her nose.

'Do you want me to stay?'

'No. It will only make it worse for him if you are present. I don't want to humiliate him. Go on, get out.'

'Thank you,' he said sincerely, and quickly left.

Dejanus woke in the middle of the night, fully alert, eyes as wide and white as lamps, sweat prickling his skin. He barked in relief. He was still alive. Tendrils from his nightmare slowly evaporated and in a short while all he could remember was the face of his enemy, with skin as white as ivory. The face had been vaguely familiar, the way that such things often are in dreams, but he could not recall now who it belonged to.

His mouth felt as dry as sand. He reached down beside the bed and grabbed a bottle. He was not sure what was in it, but it ran fiery and smooth down his throat and made the rim of his eyes burn. There was a moan beside him. He looked down at Ikanus, still sleeping off the sex. He grunted. Or the bruises. He laughed at his own joke. She moaned again.

'Shut up,' he said, not loudly enough to wake her, but loudly enough to finish his own waking.

That's when he remembered, and the memory made him flush with anger.

'Bitch,' he said hoarsely. 'That white-haired bitch.'

She had humiliated him in front of her puking little secretary. He had wanted to take Harnan's neck in his two hands and crush it like a leather bag. Areava. He had wanted to kill her too. Shove a dagger in her throat, just as he had done to her brother, Berayma. He had wanted to feel her warm blood splash over his hands. He wanted to scream his hate into her face as the air in her lungs whistled through the wound.