He shook his head sorrowfully. "Now all can see how the Forbidden work, now all can see the wickedness of their actions. Has not the Seneschal been teaching this for many hundreds of years? Is this not why we drove the Forbidden from our fair land in the first instance?"

And with the rumours and the King's increasing madness, Faraday's hopes died. Borneheld would take the throne and throw all Achar's resources against Axis. Now the brothers would tear Achar apart in their hatred for each other, tear it apart until finally they stood sword to sword in the Chamber of the Moons. As th< vision had foretold.

Faraday bowed her head, trying to rub away her tears.

Borneheld had stayed with Priam constantly, and all remarked on the devotion that he showed his uncle. Day after day Borneheld had followed Priam about the corridors, offering him comfort, and holding his chalice for him so that Priam could wet his throat whenever he became thirsty. And when Priam had finally collapsed into his bed, Borneheld had helped care for him. Holding his head as Priam drank from the chalice, wiping his lips as he lowered his uncle's head to the pillow.

Faraday did not believe the charade of devotion for an instant. In those hours when he was not at Priam's side, Borneheld whispered with Jayme or one of his advisers. Gilbert hung about their apartments like an evil shadow, and Moryson glided along the corridors, the hood of his robe pulled close about his face.

Solicitous during the day, at night Borneheld slept badly, tossing at Faraday's side, his hands gripping the sheets. He muttered in his dreams, but Faraday could not catch his words, and the one night she had awoken him to save him from his nightmares and offer him a drink of water, he had screamed and struck the goblet from her hands.

After that Borneheld slept in another room, saying Faraday no longer pleased him and her presence disturbed his sleep. Grateful for her empty bed, Faraday nevertheless wondered.

Judith leaned back, and Faraday gave her a fresh cloth.

"I thank you," Judith murmured, then leant back to her husband's- dying.

Four days ago, when Faraday had sent Judith to snatch some sleep, she had sat by Priam's bedside and laid her hands on the man. She had reached for the power of the Mother so she could heal Priam as she had healed Axis.

But Faraday had reeled back from the King's prone form almost instantly. What she had felt underneath her hands had been no natural illness. Dark enchantments had writhed beneath the King's skin. For long minutes Faraday had sat shaking, waving away a servant's murmured concerns. Enchantments? But how? By whom?

She had no dearth of suspects for the murder of Priam. Borneheld, obviously, but the whole Brotherhood of the Seneschal would doubtless fight for the privilege of slipping a knife into Priam's back, and Faraday also wondered if some of the nobles thought they might have too much to lose if the King concluded an alliance with the Icarii and Avar.

And yet who among all those could wield dark enchantments?

Faraday had felt the power, but she could not understand it. It was like and yet totally unlike what she had felt from Axis.

Priam was in the final grips of a murder, and a murder effected by enchantment.

Embeth put a hand on Faraday's arm, bringing the woman back into the present. Faraday nodded her thanks, and realised that Jayme had reached across the bed and touched Judith's hand.

"I am sorry, my Queen, but I must commence the Service soon.

Priam, well, he has only a small amount of time left."

Judith took a great gulping breath, her fragile shoulders heaving, then nodded. "Begin, Brother-Leader."

Jayme began intoning the Service of Passage, the age-old service meant to ease the soul of the dying into the next world. The words were beautiful and comforting, exhorting not only the dying to meet his maker with joy and thankfulness, but exhorting all those who grieved to remember that on the other side of death Artor waited to receive Priam into His eternal care. It was the duty of the dying to make a good death, to remember his faults and his sins so that Artor would accept him into His care, and it was the duty of those witnessing the death to make sure that the dying made their death the best one possible.

Faraday watched Jayme carefully, trying to discern the slightest note of satisfaction in his voice, the faintest gleam of triumph in his eyes. But if Jayme felt any of these emotions, he hid them well.

"Priam," he asked very softly, resting his three middle fingers on the King's waxen forehead, "listen to me. You must bind yourself to Artor's care, but you must remember that He will only receive you into His care once you have confessed your faults, flaws and sins. Priam, confess your sins now, that Artor may receive you with love."

Priam's eyelids opened. His cracked lips moved soundlessly, and Jayme motioned to Borneheld for the chalice. "Drink, my King," Jayme whispered, "drink so that you may confess your sins."

Faraday stared at the chalice for a moment, disturbed. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her stomach. The more she stared at the chalice, the more she realised that there was something evil, shadowed, about it. Dark letters hovered about its rim, and Faraday felt her marrow chill. It was the source of the dark enchantment that killed Priam!

Nonetheless, Priam seemed to have been revived by the sip of water. He started to mumble, and Judith's eyes filled with tears - he was remembering the early years of their marriage, when all had seemed so bright, so full of life, when they were still convinced that healthy children lay only a year or two into the future. Unusually for a court-arranged union, Judith and Priam had enjoyed a marriage filled with love, even when disappointment at their childlessness sometimes threatened to overwhelm them.

"Yes, yes," Jayme encouraged Priam, his eyes gleaming strangely, "confess all, confess all that Artor may receive you." Faraday stared at Jayme. He and Borneheld had handled the chalice. How was it they stayed healthy and Priam sickened? She averted her eyes, but her gaze was instantly caught by Moryson.

What was the man doing? He was standing behind Jayme and Borneheld, the hood of his robe pulled close, but Faraday could see his lips moving silently and his eyes riveted on the chalice.

As Faraday stared Moryson suddenly lifted his eyes to hers...and grinned.

Faraday shuddered. The man's eyes were as ice, and they bore relentlessly into her own.

"Faraday?" Embeth murmured at her side, and Faraday finally tore her eyes away from Moryson.

When next she looked Moryson had his eyes back on the King, his face a mask of sorrow.

A spasm crossed Priam's face, and his entire body convulsed. Judith gave a soft cry of distress and grasped Priam's hand as tightly as she could. A trickle of bloodied froth issued from Priam's gaping mouth, and Embeth leaned over and wiped it away. The King's eyes now stared sightlessly at the canopy of his bed and his breath came in great uneven gasps.

Judith's mouth trembled, but she whispered to her husband words of love and farewell.

Then Priam rallied, and reached out a quavering hand. He pulled Judith's head close to his mouth. He whispered into her ear. Faraday saw Judith's entire body stiffen in reaction.

Finally Judith sat back, her face impassive. Priam's head sank down onto the pillow, his fingers trailed down Judith's face one last time, and then he died.

There was silence. After Priam's incoherent madness of the past weeks, his end had been surprisingly peaceful.

Finally it was Moryson who spoke. "The King is dead," he said, and turned to Borneheld. "Long live the King." A strange expression crossed Borneheld's face, then Jayme pulled the amethyst ring of office from Priam's finger and slipped it onto Borneheld's thick digit. "Long live the King," Jayme intoned. "King Borneheld."

Faraday, watching, experienced a feeling of unreality.

Borneheld's eyes, burning with naked triumph, met hers above the bed. "My Queen," he said.

Faraday slipped quietly into Judith's chambers. She had spent the past three hours helping Judith and Embeth lay Priam's body out. The passing of a King required formal ceremonies, prayers, rituals, and the washing and preparing of Priam's body to lie in state. As Priam's widow, Judith had overseen all of this, her fragile face calm, emotionless. Her demeanour, as always, gracious and regal.

But Faraday had seen that Judith was close to collapse, and now wanted to make sure she was resting as comfortably as her grief would allow.

Judith sat on a sofa by the fire, Embeth's arm about her shoulder. Both women had glasses of brandy in their hands.

Embeth smiled wryly as Faraday sank down beside Judith. "There can be no better time to get slightly drunk," she said, "than in the hours just after your husband has died."

Faraday knew she must be remembering her own husband Ganelon's death.

Judith sniffed her tears back and put her glass down. Her porcelain skin was smudged and bruised under her eyes, evidence that she had not slept for many nights, and her golden hair was streaked and disordered. Poor Judith, Faraday thought, stroking the woman's hair back into some semblance of order. What will you do with your life now Priam is dead?

"Thank you, Faraday," Judith managed, then cleared her throat and said, her voice stronger, "Priam and I both thank you for your kindness and support over the past three weeks."

Faraday smiled, but did not say anything. She hoped that she could be as gracious if ever faced with a comparable loss. They sat in silence for some time, then Judith stirred and took Faraday's hand.

"My dear, I hope you will forgive me for what I now say...but say it I must and, having seen you with Borneheld over the past weeks, I think I can trust you to hear it." Faraday met Embeth's eyes over Judith's head. Judith abruptly picked up her glass and swallowed the last of her brandy. "Priam told me to name Axis his heir," she said. "He did not want Borneheld to succeed him."

. Faraday's breathing stilled. What good would that do Axis now?

"Artor save us!" Embeth whispered. "You cannot stand up in Borneheld's court and say that Priam named Axis his heir!" Judith smiled bitterly and straightened her back. "I know, Embeth. I have no death wish. I believe Priam's death was planned the instant he announced in audience that he wanted to seek an alliance with Axis."

Faraday stared at Judith, but decided against saying anything about the chalice. She had no idea who had ensorcelled the chalice, and the knowledge that it was ensorcelled would only distress Judith. She took Judith's hand. "Why did Priam change his mind?"

"Over past months," Judith said, "Priam realised how mistaken he'd been never to accept Axis for the man he was -a brilliant war leader and a better prince than Borneheld ever would be." She hesitated, glancing at Embeth. "I have told you this because Embeth has told me something of your feelings for Axis and that she encouraged you tp marry Borneheld when you were racked with doubts."

"And for that I can never apologise enough," said Embeth. Faraday bowed her head and thought for a moment. When she raised her eyes again they were brilliant with power.

Judith and Embeth both gasped.

"Let me tell you something about myself and about Axis," she said, her voice as powerful as her eyes.

She talked for over an hour, Embeth shakily pouring the three of them more brandy when she was halfway through.

"Now that Borneheld is King, Axis is going to need all the help he can get,"

Faraday finished. "Will you help?"

Judith nodded her head, her eyes thoughtful. "Yes, I will, Faraday. It is what Priam would have wanted me to do...and it is what / want to do." She paused.

"And I think I know someone who may tip the balance in Axis' favour."

Borneheld's coronation was held the day after Priam was laid to rest. Clouds of war hung over Achar, and in times such as these, haste was called for.

A public holiday was proclaimed, and colourful bunting hung out. Flags and pennants were hastily raised to honour the new King the next. A public feast would have been appropriate and appreciated, but there was no time to arrange it, so Borneheld simply ordered that barrels of wine and ale be available on every street corner so that the good citizens of Carlon could simply get drunk without the food.

While the Carlonites partied in the streets, the actual coronation took place in the Chamber of the Moons. The entire court was present, every man, woman or child of noble blood crowded into the Chamber. The ceremony itself was officiated over by Jayme, who lowered the heavy gold circlet of office onto Borneheld's head. As the trumpeting of horns far above them announced to the outside world that a new King had been crowned, Borneheld stood to receive the pledges of homage and fealty from his nobles.

Beside him, Faraday sat on a smaller throne, a simple coronet on her head, remembering the night she had first seen Axis in this chamber. One day, she prayed to the Mother, I will sit with Axis on this dais.

The most important nobles approached the dais first. Duke Roland of Aldeni and Earl Jorge of Avonsdale, both down from Jervois Landing for the coronation; Baron Ysgryff of Nor, his exotic features fixed in an expression of the sincerest loyalty as he pledged himself to Borneheld; Earl Burdel of Arcness, Borneheld's friend and ally and now, no doubt, expecting handsome rewards for having supported Borneheld in the past; Baron Greville of Tarantaise, as volubly sincere as Baron Ysgryff had been; and, finally among the higher nobles, the lords of the provinces, came Faraday's father, Earl Isend of Skarabost - now, Faraday noted with some dismay, taken up with a blowsy young noblewoman from Rhaetia who had rouged her nipples so heavily that they had stained the sheer material of her bodice.

After the nobles came sundry dignitaries and ambassadors. As the Corolean ambassador bowed low over his hand, Borneheld made a mental note to request the ambassador to come and see him at the first possible opportunity. Borneheld wanted to conclude a military alliance with the Coroleans as soon as he could.

Before the minor nobles could step forward to pay Borneheld homage, Judith, former Queen, and her lady-in-waiting, Lady Embeth of Tare, stepped forward.

Borneheld frowned, but Faraday inclined her head slightly.

"Yes?" Borneheld asked, as Judith rose frorn her curtsey. The woman, so confident in her graciousness, had always made him feel clumsy.

"Sire," Judith began, "please accept my congratulations on your coronation and my sincere hopes for a long and bountiful reign. I pledge myself to you as your most loyal subject and hope that you know that if you need anything at all, I shall be only too willing to provide it for you."

"Sire." Judith's voice changed slightly, and Borneheld suppressed a grimace.

He knew that tone of voice. The bitch was going to ask him for something.

"Sire, I would ask a boon."

No doubt a substantial annuity or country estate, Borneheld sighed inwardly.

Dowager Queens ever were a nuisance.

"I am still prostrate with grief, Sire, and I would ask that you excuse me from court. You have your own court, and a beautiful wife to grace it." Judith inclined her head to Faraday and smiled slightly. She turned back to Borneheld.

"Embeth, the Lady of Tare, has offered me the sanctuary of her home. I would ask that you excuse both of us from court and from Carlon, so that we may retire to the quieter life of Tare."

Borneheld was surprised. What? No money? No jewels? Just permission to retire from court? Easy enough. He waved a magnanimous hand. "You have my permission, Judith."

"I leave this afternoon, if it pleases you, Sire," Judith said humbly. In truth, she and Embeth had their carriages waiting outside.

"Then I wish you well, Judith, Embeth. Perhaps I will visit one day. Once the Forbidden have been put in their place, of course."

"I will look forward to it with pleasure, Sire," Judith said sweetly.

She curtsied deeply again, caught Faraday's eye for an instant, then she and Embeth swiftly left the Chamber of the Moons.

Faraday stared after them sadly. She wished she rode with them. They had gone, not only to recuperate, but also to wait for Axis. If Axis was alive and if he led an army against Borneheld, there was every likelihood that he would pass by Tare. And if he did, then there waited Judith to inform both Axis and all who would listen that Priam had named Axis his rightful heir. Faraday smiled to herself. Judith hoped to have another, equally substantial surprise waiting for Axis as well.

Azhure's Dilemma

Azhure lay under the light wraps and listened toa Rivkah breathe. The women had shared an apartJL. JLment since their arrival in Sigholt six weekspreviously, and their friendship had deepened and broadenedsince their time in Sigholt.

For Azhure the past six weeks had been the happiest of her life. She had enjoyed her time in Talon Spike, and revelled in her acceptance by the Icarii, but she had found her true niche here in Sigholt. Belial, astounded by her skill with the Wolven and impressed by her determination to be useful, had given her a squad of thirty-six archers to train.

To his surprise and to the astonishment of everyone else, Azhure had proved a natural leader. The squad quickly became the most disciplined, ordered and happy in Sigholt, and, to Belial and Magariz's constant amazement, none of her thirty-six men complained about being put under the command of a woman. Life in a garrison filled with three thousand men and exactly two women could have been awkward, but Azhure was no prude and, despite her good looks, within a week most of the men had simply accepted her for her abilities and seemed not to notice her sex overmuch. She was more noted for her skill at archery and the constant shadows of three or more of the Alaunt hounds at her heels.

But Belial had not remained impervious to Azhure's femininity, and therein lay Azhure's dilemma. She sighed and carefully slid out of bed. She waited for her stomach to settle, then swiftly dressed in a pair of man's breeches, riding boots and a light shirt. She snatched a jacket as she slipped quietly from the room. Sicarius, who slept at the foot of the bed, pushed out in front of her.

As the door closed behind Azhure, Rivkah opened her eyes and wondered when the woman would confide in her.

Azhure hurried down the stairs of the Keep, nodded to the guard at the main entrance, and walked briskly across the main courtyard towards the stables. This was the time of day when Azhure loved to ride, before dawn, when the day was fresh and young, and her best thinking could be done without the distractions of the bustling Sigholt community about her. Two of the other Alaunt hounds joined her, but she waved the rest back. She did not want the entire pack to disturb her thoughts this morning.

Azhure walked down to Belaguez's stall, whistling as she approached. Much to Belial and Magariz's horror she had started to ride the stallion several weeks ago. Belial, knowing how difficult the stallion was to control, could not believe that Azhure would manage to stay on more than five minutes. But Belaguez had responded to something in the woman, and although he sometimes pulled too hard, he otherwise behaved himself for her. Watching from the edges of the courtyard the first time Azhure had put the stallion through his paces, Belial had looked at Magariz, and then simply shrugged. Well, someone had to exercise the horse, and if Azhure could manage, then she could have the job.

Azhure rubbed a brush over the grey stallion's coat, then slipped a light saddle on his back. She cinched the girth tightly, waiting for the horse to blow himself out, then tightened the girth one more notch. The bridle took only an instant to buckle, and then Azhure opened the stall door and led Belaguez out into the dark courtyard. The three Alaunt were waiting patiently by the gateway to the Keep, and Azhure swung into the saddle.

She nodded to the three guards on sentry-duty - they were used to her early morning rides - and then greeted the bridge cheerfully.

Once across, Azhure touched her heels lightly to the stallion's flanks and they were off, racing the sun to see which could top the crest of the Urqhart Hills first.

The view from the peak was superb. Azhure could see in a complete circle for many leagues. Directly below them stood Sigholt, gleaming in the pre-dawn light, the Lake steaming gently beyond. Azhure slid from the horse's back and sat on a nearby rock to watch the sun rise over the far distant Avarinheim. At the precise moment the sun crested the distant forest Azhure could almost have sworn the top of the forest canopy waved at her. But Azhure did not fool herself.

The Avarinheim and the Avar were too concerned with their own problems to worry much about her. Besides, both Avarinheim and Avar waited for Faraday, no-one else.

Azhure looked back down at the Keep, preoccupied with Belial. She and Belial had soon overcome their initial awkwardness on her arrival, and he had made it plain he harboured no ill feelings towards her rather savage assault on his person in Smyrton.

"You can work your guilt off by proving your worth here," Belial had said, and that was exactly what Azhure had set out to do, working herself and her squad of archers to the best of her ability. She had seen the appreciation in Belial's eyes and basked in his words of praise. She enjoyed his company and his friendship. Belial was a large part of the reason why these last six weeks had been so good.