description. Gil, for her part, had subconsciously avoided thinking anything positive about herself for the last fifteen years and blushed hotly. Undisturbed, Ingold continued. “Gil, Rudy—Janus of Weg, Commander of the City Guards of Gae.” His gesture included the two still seated at the table. “Bektis, Court Wizard of the House of Dare; Govannin Narmenlion, Bishop of Gae.”
Startled that Ingold did not hold the title, Gil looked at Bektis, a self-consciously haughty man with the signs of the Zodiac worked into the borders of his gray velvet cloak. Because of the shaven head that gave the Bishop of Gae the look of some ancient Egyptian scribe, and because of the voluminous scarlet robes that hid the thin, straight body, it took Gil a moment to realize that this was a woman, but there was not a second of doubt that she was a Bishop. That harsh ascetic face would tolerate nothing less than spiritual command and would trust no one else to guard sufficiently the honor of her God.
As proper acknowledgments were made and the Bishop extended her dark amethyst ring to be kissed, Gil heard behind her the low murmur of Janus' deep voice speaking to Ingold. “… fight in the hall,” he was saying. “Alwir's set up refugee camps here… sent patrols into the city… convoying food… bringing people to safety here… ”
“My lord Alwir has taken command, then?” Ingold asked sharply.
Janus nodded. “He is the Chancellor of the Realm, and the Queen's brother.”
“And Eldor?”
Janus sighed and shook his head. “Ingold, it was like a slaughterhouse. We reached Gae just before dawn. The ashes were still hot—parts of the Palace were still in flames. It was burned—”
“I know,” Ingold said quietly.
“I'm sorry. I forgot you were there. The roof of the hall had caved in. The place was like a furnace. Bones and bodies were buried under the rubble. It was too hot to do much searching. But we found this, back by the door of that little retiring room behind the throne. It was in the hand of a skeleton, buried under the fallen rafters.” He pointed to something on the table.
With the practiced grip of one long accustomed to handling such things, the Bishop picked up the long, straight, two-handed sword and offered it hilt-first to Ingold. Though it was badly fire-blackened, Gil could recognize the pattern of rubies on the hilt. Once in a dream, she'd seen those gems gleam in lamplight with the movement of the breath of the man who'd worn them. Ingold sighed, and bowed his head.
“I'm sorry,” Janus said again. His tough, square face was marked with weariness and grief under the reddish stubble of beard; he had lost a friend he valued, as well as a King. Gil remembered a lamplit room, a tall man in black saying, “… as your friend, I ask you… ” She grieved with the old man's grief.
“And the Queen?” The tone of his voice indicated that Ingold knew what answer to expect.
“Oh,” Janus said, startled, raising his head. “She was taken prisoner.”
Ingold started, shocked. “Prisoner?” Shaggy eyebrows drew down over his nose. “Then I was right.”
Janus nodded. “We finally caught them at it. They can carry weight; those tails of theirs are like cable. The Icefalcon and a dozen of the boys were trapped in the main vault. They'd been guarding the Stair since the slab was broken—”
“Yes, yes,” Ingold said impatiently. “I thought they were killed in the first rush. I discounted them. It doesn't do,” he added, with the quick ghost of a grin, “to discount the Icefalcon—but go on.”
“Well, the fire in the hall spread throughout the Palace—anyone who was trapped anywhere started burning things for the light. The Dark Ones came back down to the vaults like a river of night, dragging what must have been half a hundred captives, mostly women and some of the dooic slaves, yammering and screaming like beasts. The Icefalcon and the boys had the sense not to fire the vault and they
Startled that Ingold did not hold the title, Gil looked at Bektis, a self-consciously haughty man with the signs of the Zodiac worked into the borders of his gray velvet cloak. Because of the shaven head that gave the Bishop of Gae the look of some ancient Egyptian scribe, and because of the voluminous scarlet robes that hid the thin, straight body, it took Gil a moment to realize that this was a woman, but there was not a second of doubt that she was a Bishop. That harsh ascetic face would tolerate nothing less than spiritual command and would trust no one else to guard sufficiently the honor of her God.
As proper acknowledgments were made and the Bishop extended her dark amethyst ring to be kissed, Gil heard behind her the low murmur of Janus' deep voice speaking to Ingold. “… fight in the hall,” he was saying. “Alwir's set up refugee camps here… sent patrols into the city… convoying food… bringing people to safety here… ”
“My lord Alwir has taken command, then?” Ingold asked sharply.
Janus nodded. “He is the Chancellor of the Realm, and the Queen's brother.”
“And Eldor?”
Janus sighed and shook his head. “Ingold, it was like a slaughterhouse. We reached Gae just before dawn. The ashes were still hot—parts of the Palace were still in flames. It was burned—”
“I know,” Ingold said quietly.
“I'm sorry. I forgot you were there. The roof of the hall had caved in. The place was like a furnace. Bones and bodies were buried under the rubble. It was too hot to do much searching. But we found this, back by the door of that little retiring room behind the throne. It was in the hand of a skeleton, buried under the fallen rafters.” He pointed to something on the table.
With the practiced grip of one long accustomed to handling such things, the Bishop picked up the long, straight, two-handed sword and offered it hilt-first to Ingold. Though it was badly fire-blackened, Gil could recognize the pattern of rubies on the hilt. Once in a dream, she'd seen those gems gleam in lamplight with the movement of the breath of the man who'd worn them. Ingold sighed, and bowed his head.
“I'm sorry,” Janus said again. His tough, square face was marked with weariness and grief under the reddish stubble of beard; he had lost a friend he valued, as well as a King. Gil remembered a lamplit room, a tall man in black saying, “… as your friend, I ask you… ” She grieved with the old man's grief.
“And the Queen?” The tone of his voice indicated that Ingold knew what answer to expect.
“Oh,” Janus said, startled, raising his head. “She was taken prisoner.”
Ingold started, shocked. “Prisoner?” Shaggy eyebrows drew down over his nose. “Then I was right.”
Janus nodded. “We finally caught them at it. They can carry weight; those tails of theirs are like cable. The Icefalcon and a dozen of the boys were trapped in the main vault. They'd been guarding the Stair since the slab was broken—”
“Yes, yes,” Ingold said impatiently. “I thought they were killed in the first rush. I discounted them. It doesn't do,” he added, with the quick ghost of a grin, “to discount the Icefalcon—but go on.”
“Well, the fire in the hall spread throughout the Palace—anyone who was trapped anywhere started burning things for the light. The Dark Ones came back down to the vaults like a river of night, dragging what must have been half a hundred captives, mostly women and some of the dooic slaves, yammering and screaming like beasts. The Icefalcon and the boys had the sense not to fire the vault and they
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