Sovereign

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.