FORTY

EVEN BEFORE THE battle wound down, Sidonius had sent a detail in search of Renatas, and another in search of Dieter. Achim insisted on accompanying the latter group, despite his injury, but only after promising Sidonius he would return within the hour.

Sidonius turned to me and gestured for me to precede him.

‘It’s time, lady,’ he said.

Fighting back my nerves, I led the way.

This time the sanctuary was clean, its parquetry floor unstained, its polish unmarred, the chandelier shedding glittering light over the empty hall. This time, Sidonius and I were the ones to track in the blood.

Every step I took left a smear, and blood dripped from my hems. Sidonius’s cleated sandals dug wounds into the polish and wooden boards alike, raising a clatter and squeak. More blood ground into the holes he left in our wake.

‘General …’ I started, trailing to an uncertain halt. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to do this later? When the people, Turasi and Ilthean both, have had time to rest?’

‘No, we do it now,’ he said, gripping me by the elbow and marching me forward.

I stared at the throne. It was a simple wooden chair, for all that the back had been inlaid with apple wood like a crowning sunburst, and the arms and legs and seat were delicately carved. Just a simple wooden chair.

I had fought long and hard to unseat Dieter and regain it for myself, for the Svanaten. But I had shed more lives in my pursuit than Dieter had in his coup. And I had never imagined it would be an Ilthean frogmarching me towards it, the blood of my people still warm on my clothes.

Dieter had killed my family – and united the Turasi more thoroughly than my family had for generations. And now I walked the Iltheans into the sanctuary – not as supplicants, but as conquerors.

You don’t have what it takes, Matilde, came Dieter’s voice, echoing through me, filling me with shame.

‘Go on,’ said Sidonius, releasing my elbow and propelling me forward. ‘Take it. It’s yours, after all.’

I climbed the steps that led to the throne: the first for the thralls, second for the freeborn, third for the drightens, fourth for the Duethin. A fifth step stood behind the throne, too narrow to support the whole of a man’s foot, which was for the prester. None ruled higher than the Duethin but the ravens above, and not even the mara could know what they wanted of us.

I hesitated, turning back. ‘I’ll bloody it,’ I said.

‘It can be cleaned, lady.’

No it can’t. I couldn’t tell if the voice were Grandmother’s or my own, not anymore.

‘Take it,’ he repeated.

The seat was cold, the polished wood silken beneath my chapped fingertips when I laid my hands along the armrests as I sat, bloodied conqueror, and looked out upon my empty hall.

‘Stay there,’ Sidonius ordered, as if he were the Duethin. Then, with a wry smile, he added, ‘I hope it’s comfortable.’

Alone in the cavernous hall, I fought back my shame. This was not what I had imagined. Dieter still lived, as did Sidonius, and the slave-born general would not be satisfied with a vague and nebulous promise of aid.

The throne, however, was returned to my House. And I had driven out Dieter – I could drive out his brother, too.

First Dieter’s soldiers, then the thralls and freeborn of the Turholm, were marched into the sanctuary by the Iltheans. There were so many that I wondered if any were left to guard the walls, any left cleaning up the dead and tending the wounded. Every person still alive crammed into the room, tracking in yet more blood, staring up at me on the throne. Without exception they looked at me with hatred in their eyes.

I didn’t have the heart to force them, nor bend them to my will.

A Duethin doesn’t quail from command, child, said Grandmother.

To shy away now would betray every decision I had made since Aestival night. Whether I had the heart for it or not, I must finish what I had started. Dieter was unseated and the bonds of his arcana broken, and now was my chance to reclaim my birthright.

Though it broke my heart to compel my own people, I nodded to Sidonius. Well versed in the art of conquering, he understood my unspoken instruction, and a moment later it began. With Ilthean swords at their backs, every Turasi left alive knelt and bared their neck to me. By the time they were done the blood from their as yet untended battle wounds pooled at the bottom of the steps, and every knee was smeared with it.

I was near to wilting with the pain of my broken rib. Every fealty offered under duress tasted sour, catching in my throat. By the last I was shaking, my hands huddled in a white knot in my lap, unshed tears burning my eyes. Thank the ravens it was over!

Now it was time to take command.

I looked to Sidonius. ‘General. Do you have a report on the whereabouts of your brother?’

Achim had slipped into the hall partway through the ceremony; the Amaeri shadow-worker now stood at the bottom of the steps, beside Sidonius and Sepp. I wished Roshi were here, not in an enemy camp surrounded by soldiers.

‘He has not been found yet,’ Answered sidonius. ‘No doubt he has fled like the cowardly dog he is.’

I bit back my response. Defending Dieter’s character was not the first of my priorities right now.

‘Then we will find him in due course,’ I said, my voice even and strong. ‘In the meantime, I think it best we dispense with the usual feasting and frivolity, and tend to our wounded. If you would send to your camp, General, and have Roshi fetched here …?’

‘Certainly, my lady,’ he replied, though he didn’t pass the command to any of his men. Instead, he glanced at Achim and, after receiving the Amaeri’s nod, climbed the steps to the throne. First, second, third – fourth.

Dread dried my mouth.

‘But first, lady,’ Sidonius said. ‘You will bend your neck to Ilthea.’

‘You are mistaken,’ I replied, my voice bouncing off the polished walls, sinking into the draperies.

‘You will acknowledge the sovereignty of Ilthea,’ He commanded, steel in his eyes and voice.

‘You won’t make me into a puppet,’ I said. ‘Ilthea has my gratitude for her aid, but I won’t hand my people over to her rule.’

‘You will,’ said Sidonius. ‘And if you do not stand of your own free will, I will force you to it.’

‘Drag me from the chair and bend my knee for me, General? It would not look well.’

‘I won’t be physically picking you up, lady. I will use your own strange power against you,’ he countered.

The colour drained from my cheeks. No.

‘You pledged whatever aid the empire deemed necessary,’ he said. ‘As the emperor’s representative in these lands, I require public acknowledgement of that pledge.’

At the bottom of the stairs Achim stepped forward, his drab brown robes stark among the white and bloodied clothing of the Turasi and Iltheans. Lifting a hand, he breathed a single word I didn’t hear.

I jerked up as if someone else had control of my limbs. A strange power surged through me, forcing me to step towards Sidonius, then my knees dropped with a thump that jarred my teeth. A weight bent my head down until I bared my neck like a humbled dog.

I clenched my teeth, choking back the words. Time. I just needed more time! But there was no time. Sepp stood huddled by Achim’s side, spent. Roshi sat in a tent she would never leave, should Sidonius die. Both their lives hung in the balance, and I had no more time or opportunity.

You do not have what it takes, Matilde.

Squeezing my eyes shut, the oath tumbled from numb lips: ‘I, Matilde of house Svanaten, Duethin of the Turasi, do pledge fealty to the Ilthean emperor,’ I said, my voice ringing through the chamber. ‘I acknowledge and accept Ilthea’s sovereignty for myself, and those sworn to me.’

Tears scalded my eyes but the pledge bound my muscles tight. I riffled through my mind for an addition, an ambiguity I could work into the vow. The words that escaped me were the exact opposite: ‘Until death release me.’

‘On behalf of Ilthea, I accept your vow,’ Sidonius intoned, touching the top of my bowed head with his hand.

It was done. My promise – or Achim – released me and I stood, legs shaking.

The Turasi in the room stared daggers at me. I might be Duethin, I read in their gaze, but without an Ilthean escort I would be dead before the day was out.

I had guided my country and her people into the snake’s pit. Until death release me.

Now I must guide them out.