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He nodded then, and Renarr saw how the tension left his body.

‘Rise Herat,’ said Mother Dark.

The historian took a single step forward. ‘Mother Dark?’

‘Our priestesses here will reconvene with you. Take a side chamber. Together, the three of you should be able to invent an appropriate retelling of this fated and fateful union. Concoct, if you will, a marriage to celebrate.’

‘Then, Mother, there is to be no ceremony here?’

Ignoring the question, Mother Dark’s attention shifted then, fixed upon Renarr. ‘I do not know you,’ she said. ‘Only that you appeared a step behind Vatha Urusander. But this detail alone suffices. Will you voice a vow to never speak of what has taken place here?’

‘I eagerly await the official version, Mother Dark,’ Renarr replied. ‘And shall speak of no other. Why, already I see the gilt bright upon my memories of this glorious ceremony.’

Mother Dark’s lips creased slightly in what might have been a suppressed smile. ‘Do you so vow?’

‘I do,’ Renarr said, nodding.

Vatha Urusander said, ‘Mother Dark, Renarr is my adopted daughter.’

‘In title? What of your son?’

‘My son shall inherit as much of what I possess as he may desire. Renarr has refused all symbols of recognition, beyond my old man’s harmless affectation in naming her my daughter.’

‘She indulges you.’

‘Just so,’ Urusander answered.

Mother Dark’s gaze shifted now to Hunn Raal. ‘You name yourself the Mortal Sword of Light, and I see in your belt a sceptre fashioned of Elemental Light. When were you planning on placing that sceptre into the hands of its rightful possessor?’

Hunn Raal’s smirk tightened slightly, and then, with an easy shrug, he drew the sceptre from his belt and approached Urusander. ‘Milord,’ he said. ‘Father Light. This sceptre was forged in your name, for this day, and for all the days of your rule to follow.’

When he held it out, Vatha Urusander took it and immediately returned his attention to Mother Dark.

His smirk returning, Hunn Raal bowed and stepped back.

‘Husband,’ said Mother Dark. ‘Will you now join me here, and take your throne?’

Urusander hesitated, and then said, ‘Wife, I am unused to the ways of rule, much less faith.’

‘Rule is but a flavour, a scent in the air, Urusander. Little different f

rom your habits of command in your legion. I have found that it is best maintained by selective silence.’

‘I have found it so, as well,’ Urusander replied. ‘Although, on occasion, those under my command begin to presume too much. I have, thus far, been reluctant to effect … discipline. Such acts must be unequivocal and perfectly timed.’

‘Then you understand the nature of rule as well as I do. It is, as you say, a shame when the ones being ruled lose sight of the example we would set. Now, as to faith, well, seek no guidance from me, Urusander, for I have surely failed in that test. I expect, however, our priestesses will find the days and nights ahead to be busy ones, as they fulfil, with zeal, the fullest transcription of their responsibilities, and all the observances they deem sacred in our names.’

‘I share your confidence,’ Urusander replied. ‘And in the end, I am certain that we will be told the manner of worship to be expected and, presumably, demanded from our believers.’

‘Probably,’ Mother Dark agreed. ‘We can but eagerly await such delineations, and the time when you and I need not worry over our missteps born of ignorance.’

After a moment, Urusander resumed his approach to the dais. Mounting it, he paused in front of his throne and then, seeing the slotted scabbard awaiting the sceptre, settled the object into its place. Turning, he faced Mother Dark.

When she held out her right hand, he raised his, bringing it up beneath hers. Their hands clasped briefly before parting once more.

Facing the chamber, Mother Dark and Father Light stood for a moment, as if posing for posterity, before both sat down on their thrones.

‘That’s it,’ muttered Hunn Raal beside Renarr. ‘Done.’

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