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He looked away. ‘I have the Legion.’

Syntara drew back her hood and shook her head. ‘Will you pour a husband’s love into a darkness without end, into a realm defying your touch, refusing the blessing of your eyes? Will you give your love to an unknown?’

He cursed her questions, but not for the reasons that she might have expected. ‘All this talk of marriage! Have I been consulted? Has Mother Dark? And now you speak of love?’

‘Lord, forgive me. I was led to believe… otherwise. As you say, worship is not the same as love.’

‘You have the truth of that,’ he snapped.

She had studied him then, seeing a man who had unconsciously backed to one corner of the chamber, his hands restless and reaching out as if to take up a scroll on the nearest shelf, or a book, only to draw away again. She wondered where was the hero he had once been? What reasons remained for this fanatical loyalty surrounding him? Vatha Urusander was forgetting who he was, and all that had elevated him in the eyes of others was behind him now — and he well knew it. She decided that she would have to adjust her strategy, and indeed make herself more open to this man before her. ‘Let us set aside notions of love, then, and speak of politics. You have announced the return of the Legion, Lord. The highborn cannot but see that as a belligerent act.’

‘I am told of religious uprising against Mother Dark.’

‘Do not believe the fear-mongering, Lord. The river god poses no real threat, barring how that cult clouds the way ahead.’ Seeing his frown she said, ‘I will explain. All this time, while you remained here in this keep, the highborn have been preparing against Lord Draconus. They oppose his growing power. When Mother Dark proclaimed the House of Purake as her First Children, the other nobles were much relieved. Even as they had each vied for that position, Lord Nimander and his three sons were one and all highborn and so confirmed the status of every Greater House. Indeed, it was thought that Lord Nimander would one day wed Mother Dark.’

Urusander was studying her, and she saw by his expression that he was unaware of the details she was telling him.

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He looked away. ‘I have the Legion.’

Syntara drew back her hood and shook her head. ‘Will you pour a husband’s love into a darkness without end, into a realm defying your touch, refusing the blessing of your eyes? Will you give your love to an unknown?’

He cursed her questions, but not for the reasons that she might have expected. ‘All this talk of marriage! Have I been consulted? Has Mother Dark? And now you speak of love?’

‘Lord, forgive me. I was led to believe… otherwise. As you say, worship is not the same as love.’

‘You have the truth of that,’ he snapped.

She had studied him then, seeing a man who had unconsciously backed to one corner of the chamber, his hands restless and reaching out as if to take up a scroll on the nearest shelf, or a book, only to draw away again. She wondered where was the hero he had once been? What reasons remained for this fanatical loyalty surrounding him? Vatha Urusander was forgetting who he was, and all that had elevated him in the eyes of others was behind him now — and he well knew it. She decided that she would have to adjust her strategy, and indeed make herself more open to this man before her. ‘Let us set aside notions of love, then, and speak of politics. You have announced the return of the Legion, Lord. The highborn cannot but see that as a belligerent act.’

‘I am told of religious uprising against Mother Dark.’

‘Do not believe the fear-mongering, Lord. The river god poses no real threat, barring how that cult clouds the way ahead.’ Seeing his frown she said, ‘I will explain. All this time, while you remained here in this keep, the highborn have been preparing against Lord Draconus. They oppose his growing power. When Mother Dark proclaimed the House of Purake as her First Children, the other nobles were much relieved. Even as they had each vied for that position, Lord Nimander and his three sons were one and all highborn and so confirmed the status of every Greater House. Indeed, it was thought that Lord Nimander would one day wed Mother Dark.’

Urusander was studying her, and she saw by his expression that he was unaware of the details she was telling him.

‘But Nimander died, and he died badly. There was even talk that Draconus was behind it. Much as I dislike the Consort, I do not share that belief. My point is this, Lord Urusander. The highborn are ready for war. Their Houseblades but await the command. For now, they cannot act against Draconus because he has done nothing overt. Though they do not know it, he refuses the throne beside Mother Dark’s — no, do not look so shocked. I was her High Priestess. She invited him and he refused her.’

‘If this was to be made known to the highborn, their fear of him-’

‘Would end?’ Impatience and disbelief had stained her tone and she dropped her gaze. ‘Forgive the interruption, Lord.’

‘Why are the highborn kept from this truth?’

She shrugged. ‘That Mother Dark keeps a lover is irritating enough. Should it become known that he defied her command, well, that amounts to blasphemy, does it not? Draconus is an arrogant man and I suspect this is at the core of the highborn’s dislike of him. He was late to the ranks of the nobility and lacks the appropriate humility.’

Urusander’s expression was incredulous. ‘For this, they would go to war?’

‘Lord,’ she said, ‘perhaps I am not as wise as Emral Lanear. Abyss knows, she would tell you as much. But I do understand this: whether political or personal, struggle is all about face. Status is longed for as a measure of others’ regard, and power itself is but a weapon, to be kept close to hand when all else fails to impress.’

He surprised her with a barked laugh. ‘And if I told you, High Priestess, that true justice stands in opposition to all that you have described…’ He shook his head. ‘If you see as clearly as this, then I suggest we elevate this discussion. I well grasp your warning — if the highborn stand prepared for war, it is no vast stretch to see them turning upon me and the Legion. This is absurd! I understand that Lord Draconus is not even in Kharkanas!’

‘He is not, Lord. But all now hear of your troops in the forest. They are killing Deniers, and, I wager, anyone else they find. Lord, many of these Deniers live in highborn holdings. Legion soldiers invade estate lands with impunity.’

Urusander looked away, and then abruptly sat in the remaining chair. ‘I have made an error,’ he said. ‘I should not have recalled the Legion.’

‘Lord, if that recall includes the renegade companies, perhaps this can be salvaged.’

He eyed her. ‘I did indeed underestimate you, High Priestess. It is I who should beg forgiveness.’

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