Jardir might have doubted, but her aura swelled with pride and he knew she meant every word. He reached out, touching her cheek, and watched the shiver it sent through her spirit. 'I understand perfectly ... Damajah.' He bent and kissed her, feeling himself flush at the passion she was radiating. She might lie to him when she thought it necessary, but Inevera's love for him was true. What more could a man ask in his Jiwah Ka?

She took a step back when he broke the kiss, reining her feelings in. He was amazed at her control, watching the hot chaos of her aura quickly become cool, ordered. Now was not the time.

'The skull of an alagai prince has been added to your sacred throne, amplifying the wards that have adorned the skulls of martyred Sharum Ka for centuries,' Inevera said. 'We used almost all the electrum to coat it ...'

'Almost?' Jardir asked, smiling.

Inevera returned the grin, showing him her dice, now safely encased in the bright white metal. 'You have your tools, and now I have mine.' Her aura said she had coated more than just her dice, but he let her have her secrets. She was his Damajah, and it was fitting she wield power of her own.

'I was right to give the metal to you,' Jardir said. 'Abban would have found a clever use for it, no doubt, but would never have thought of something so ...'

'Altruistic?' Inevera supplied, and he had to laugh.

'Unprofitable,' he agreed.

'I do not trust the khaffit, husband,' Inevera said.

'Abban is as loyal to me as you are,' Jardir said.

Inevera shook her head. 'He is loyal to himself first, and you second.'

Jardir nodded. 'The same could be said of you, Bride of Everam.'

'There is a difference in serving the Creator first,' Inevera said.

'Yes,' Jardir agreed. 'And no. No mortal man or woman can truly trust another, beloved. And yet somehow we must find a way, if we are to win Sharak Ka. Waning is upon us. Now is the time to face the dark, not worry about poisoned blades at our backs.'

Inevera opened her mouth to reply, but Jardir touched a finger to her lips. 'You are the Bride of Everam, wife, yet I am the one with faith. Not just in the Creator, but in His children.'

'Faith never gets the weaving done, my mother used to say,' Inevera said. 'The Creator helps those who earn it.' Her aura called him a brave fool.

'"The Creator helps",' Jardir repeated. 'Do you think it coincidence we found the sacred metal of Kaji just weeks before the greatest test of my reign? We do not fight Nie alone, even if He does not strike the alagai down Himself. And if I am to deliver this world, I must believe that for all our differences, no one, man, woman or child, wishes it to fall to the alagai.'

Inevera did not argue further, but her aura remained unconvinced.

'Your mother was a weaver?' he asked, trying to change the subject. 'I assumed she was dama'ting.'

Inevera's aura suddenly went wild. There was shock, and fear, and a secret. Enough to fill him with questions, but not enough to answer them. He wondered if this was what reading the alagai hora was like for her.

'You never speak of your family,' he pressed, watching closely.

Inevera's aura showed her searching desperately for a way to evade the question and change the subject. She gave off the scent of a cornered animal that would rather flee than fight. But then her chest rose and fell several times in rhythm, and a wave of calm spread over her.

'Most dama'ting are the daughters of our order,' she said. 'Some few others are called by the dice in Hannu Pash. We cut off all contact with our families when called, and they do not know our fate from the moment we are taken.'

It was fascinating. Every word she said was true, and yet it read on her aura as a lie. 'But you did not.'

Inevera smiled. A practised distraction while she breathed herself into serenity. She was wondering how much he knew, if he had been spying on her. She was carefully choosing words to reveal nothing she did not wish.

Jardir was tiring of the game. 'Jiwah, you will stop your dissembling.'

His tone was harsh, and he watched as she leapt on it, using the excuse to get angry as a way to avoid the topic. Her brows drew into the thundercloud she had practised to perfection.

He smiled. 'Stop that, too.' He moved to her, taking her in his arms. She stiffened, and there was a token resistance as he pulled her close. 'Do you love me, jiwah?'

'Of course, husband,' Inevera said without hesitation.

'And do you trust me?'

There was a spike in her aura, and the slightest delay. 'Yes.' It wasn't a lie, not precisely, but neither was it truth.

'I do not know what secret you hold about your family,' Jardir said. 'But I see that you hold one, and that dishonours me.' Inevera pulled back and tried to speak, but he shook his head. 'When we wed, it was more than a union between us. Your family became mine, and mine yours. Whatever it is, I have a right to know.'

Inevera stared at him a long moment, her aura so chaotic he could not guess what her response would be. But then it calmed once more. 'My parents are alive and in Everam's Bounty. They are a source both of pride and of shame to me, and I fear for them if our relation is revealed.' She met his eyes and bowed. 'It was wrong of me to keep this secret from you, beloved. For this, I apologize.'

Jardir nodded. 'Accepted, on one condition.'

Inevera raised an eyebrow.

'I want to meet them,' Jardir said.

'I do not think that is wise, husband,' Inevera said. 'They would be in danger ...'

'I am Shar'Dama Ka,' Jardir said. 'I have hundreds of relatives. You think I cannot protect them?'

'Not without costing them the simple life they enjoy now, far from palace intrigue,' Inevera said.

Jardir laughed. 'You can engineer my nieces into the ranks of Sharum, but not plot a way for me to meet your parents away from prying eyes? We both know you can find a way if you wish it.'

Inevera regarded him, still wary. 'And if I do not wish it?'

Jardir shrugged. 'Then I will know I come third in your eyes, and not second after Everam, as you claim.'

The curtains were still drawn as the counsellors entered the throne room. A few oil lamps gave artificial light, preserving Jardir's crownsight as he regarded Jayan and his twelve Damaji. At the side of each of the tribal leaders were his second sons, and in Ashan's case his nephew. Save for Asome and Asukaji, both eighteen years old, all were fifteen. Not wholly boys, but not men, either, still in the white bidos of nie'dama, a strip of white cloth thrown over one shoulder.

He could see in their auras that the Damaji still resented the boys who had displaced their own heirs. Leadership of a tribe was not automatically hereditary as it was in the green lands, but it was functionally so, with the brothers, sons, and nephews of the Damaji holding every advantage.

More, he could see the ties that bound the men to him like threads in the air. The common Sharum and dama might truly believe Jardir divine, but the Damaji served out of fear.

If I die this night, he thought, my sons will be killed the moment it is known. Jayan might hold his grip on the white turban, perhaps, and Ashan would protect Asukaji and Asome, but the other Damaji would not hesitate to slaughter his nie'dama sons. Aleverak would not break his oath not to harm Maji, but that oath had a clause they knew well. The ancient Damaji would drink poison to allow one of his sons to do the deed.

The Damaji talked among themselves, but Jardir thumped his spear once, and they fell silent. 'Waning is upon us, Damaji. Alagai Ka and his princelings will rise tonight to test our people as we have not been since the Return.' He could see doubt in some of the men, and fear in others. Most, however, held the flat control of years of meditation. 'Jayan,' he looked to the boy, seeing in his aura an eager excitement and a hope to prove himself, 'will lead the Sharum.'

There was a burst of chatter at that. Jardir thumped his spear again.

'Forgive us, Deliverer,' Damaji Aleverak said. 'Jayan has done well as Sharum Ka, and we offer no disrespect, but is it not the place of Shar'Dama Ka to lead in Sharak Ka?'

Jardir nodded. 'I will stand beside my son for as long as I may, but when the princes of Nie show themselves, I must be free to act.'

'And what will our place be?' Asome asked.

Jardir looked at his son, seeing the seething anger beneath his calm exterior. 'The dama will beseech Everam's favour in the coming battle. That is no small thing, my son.' He could see immediately that Asome thought prayer less than nothing with demons at the walls, but hoped he was wise enough not to voice the feeling.

Asome was not so easily deterred. 'Why do dama study sharusahk, Father?'

'Eh?' Jardir asked.

'Since I took my first steps, I have been practising the sharukin,' Asome said. 'I know of none, dama or Sharum, who can stand against me.'

Jayan snorted. 'You boast because you have never faced a real opponent. You would find the alagai more formidable than the empty air you fought in Sharik Hora.'

Asome turned to his elder brother and sneered openly. 'Come at me then, O great killer of alagai, and we will see.'

Jayan growled and took a step forward.

'You will do no such thing!' Jardir shouted with a thump of the spear. He had forbidden all of his sons to fight one another, even in sparring, and the wisdom of that decree was never clearer. He could see in their auras that Jayan and Asome would not hesitate to kill each other to clear their own path to the Skull Throne. 'I will not have my sons brawling like nie'Sharum in the gruel line!'

Asome turned back to him, bowing. 'As you command, Father, but you have not answered my question. I am forbidden to fight my brother. I am forbidden to fight the alagai. You have abolished the title of Andrah, so there is no need to fight the Damaji for the throne. Why have I spent every day of my life learning to fight, if I must stand idly by as Alagai Ka walks the land?'

Jardir hesitated. In truth, he could not disagree. Prayer would not help this night. But the Damaji and dama were not just Holy Men to his people; they were the secular leaders as well. The clerics were masters of sharusahk, but with the exception of Ashan they had never personally faced the alagai, and would offer little aid in coming battle. When dawn finally came, they would be essential in restoring order.

'There is wisdom in what you say,' Jardir admitted, 'but Jayan speaks truly that the alagai are a foe the dama are not prepared for, and you yourself said Waning was not the time to introduce untried forces into alagai'sharak.' He deepened his tone and swept his spear across the men in white. 'The dama will bestow the blessings of the Creator upon the assembled men, and then go to the underpalace.'

Asome gave no outward sign as he bowed, back straight with dignity, but his aura seethed with rage, even as Jayan's danced in delight. Already Jardir was regretting the decision, but it was done and he could not be forsworn with all Nie's abyss about to rise.

'Go!' He clapped his hands, and the men began to file out. 'Ashan,' he called, and the Damaji waited behind as the others left. Jardir descended from the dais to stand beside him, Inevera following a step behind.

Ashan had been at Jardir's side for twenty-five years, steadfast in his support as Jardir climbed the rungs of Krasian society to his place of power. The Damaji was married to his eldest sister, and had produced children of shared blood. There was no reason to doubt his devotion, but still Jardir called upon the powers of his crown, not just reading his surface aura, but probing deeply into his very spirit.

He saw in his friend's heart that his trust had not been misplaced. Ashan did not crave power for its own sake, and truly believed, where many other Damaji did not, that Jardir was the Deliverer, sent by Everam to remake the world. He was not happy about the fate of Ashia, but he remained fiercely loyal.

'Brother,' he said, putting his hands on Ashan's shoulders. 'If I am killed tonight, you must take the Skull Throne.' Ashan's aura lit up in surprise, though Inevera's remained flat, waiting for him to finish speaking.

'Do not hesitate,' Jardir said. 'Announce your claim as Andrah and have Aleverak taken into custody. Kill the other Damaji before they have time to scheme.' He looked hard into Ashan's eyes. 'Before they have time to kill my sons.'

Ashan nodded. 'And then?'

'The Spear of Kaji will go to Jayan,' Jardir said, 'but you will hold the crown and throne until the Damajah declares my successor.'

Ashan's aura went white with shock, followed quickly with derision as he turned to regard Inevera, whose aura was now warm with approval. 'You will deny your firstborn his birthright, and let a woman decide the fate of our people?'

Jardir nodded. 'It was she who picked me, Ashan. We both know Jayan is not yet worthy, and may never be.'

'And what of Asome?' Ashan demanded. 'I love your second son as if he were my own, and we have been grooming him since birth to be Andrah. Why should I take the Skull Throne and not him?'

'I have looked into Asome's heart, brother. He is no more ready than Jayan to rule, and if he sits above his brother, there will be blood on the streets. I have fifty-two sons, but most are still in the bido, or just out of it. It may be years before the worthiest is known.'

He tightened his hands, feeling the bones in Ashan's shoulders grind and strain. The Damaji's aura showed the pain, but he gave no indication of it. 'For the good of our people, you will protect my Jiwah Ka and obey her in this, or I will find you in the afterlife, and we will have a reckoning.'

Ashan's aura went cold for a moment, then warmed with determination. 'That will not be necessary, Deliverer. If you should fall, it will be as you command.' He looked up, meeting Jardir's eyes. 'But do not fall ... brother.'

Jardir laughed and embraced him. 'If I do, I will take Alagai Ka down with me.'

'On alagai talons!' the warriors roared, a call that must reach all the way to Heaven.

Jardir looked out over the assembled warriors with pride as Ashan led the Damaji in bestowing the blessings of Everam upon them. The sun was setting, and though it would still be some time before the alagai dare surface, wisps of magic were beginning to rise in the shadows, and his senses were coming alive.

The trained and blooded Sharum radiated confidence and faith, ready to fight and die on alagai talons, as was their right and honour. Their belief strengthened him, as did the knowledge that Inevera had secured the inner city. No matter what happened, his people would survive.

He rode with Jayan and the Spears of the Deliverer towards the wall of the outer city where Inevera had predicted the fighting would be thickest. She had been unable to fathom where the demons would strike first, but many futures held a single field littered with dead. Jardir prayed they weren't riding into a trap.

He heard the crack of a whip, and turned to see a long line of chin marching for the wall. There were hundreds of them, lightly armed and armoured with warded spears and small shields, but they did not carry the weapons with confidence. All were shackled, connected by long chains threaded through iron loops, and their fear was palpable. These were men marching resignedly to their deaths, terrified of the lonely path. Many would not even have the courage to fight. They would break before the alagai like water poured on stone.

Jardir pulled up his white charger, and the others stopped with him. 'Who are those men?'

'Chin who have tried to flee the call to alagai'sharak, or dishonoured themselves in the night,' Jayan said. 'They are to be tethered like nie'Sharum, the chains staked in position. If they will not fight for honour, let them fight for their own lives.'

'Halt!' Jardir cried to the Sharum driving the line, and the men immediately stopped. All eyes turned to Jardir as he sprang lightly to his feet upon his horse's back for all to see. He looked to the condemned men.

'Your Tenders have lied to you!' he shouted, drawing on the power of his crown to spread his voice far into the gloaming. 'Since you were infants at your mother's breasts, they have told you the alagai are a Plague sent by the Creator to punish the sins of man. They have told you that you deserve this, that you have no choice but to cower and hide and await forgiveness and redemption.'

He scanned the men, letting them see his eyes. 'But Everam loves His children, and would not curse us so. The alagai are a Plague, but it is one sent by Nie, the Enemy, and redemption does not come to men who cower and skulk! It comes to those who take up the fight, struggling against the children of Nie on His Ala even as Everam struggles with Her in the heavens.'

A month ago, he might have thought the words pointless with such men, but now he could see into their hearts, and knew they were tired of blaming themselves for the alagai, tired of being told that the homes and loved ones they lost were punishments they had brought upon themselves. They wanted to believe, but his people had broken them as badly as the demons, leaving them dispirited. They would give anything to be as men once more.

'You have seen my people fight the alagai,' Jardir said. 'You know it can be done. They have training, it is true, but more than that, they have courage. Courage coming not from their spears, but from the knowledge that they fight for more than themselves. They fight for their wives and mothers, their sisters and daughters and infant sons. Their old and infirm.'

He swept his spear over the line of greenlanders. 'You wear chains because my warriors do not believe you care. They believe you will not even fight to save yourselves, so they mean to stake you in the path of the alagai.' He pointed back to the wall of the inner city. 'But it is not just our women and children behind those walls! I have offered my protection to all who cannot fight, even your greenland women and children. They are crowded and cramped, but so long as we hold the walls, they are safe.'

He could sense a change in the men's hearts, and grasped for it, holding aloft his spear and drawing on its power to make it shine bright with magic. 'I will go into the night to fight for your people! I ask the same of you, but if you do not have the heart, you are no use to me this night.'

He pointed the spear at the centre of the line, its light flaring even brighter, and men pressed to either side in fear, opening a length of chain between them. Jardir drew a ward with the spear's tip, and a bolt of white energy leapt from the weapon, shattering the chain.

'Stand or flee,' he shouted, 'but remember you are men, and not dogs!'

The fear and doubt in the hearts of the men turned to awe, and many of them fell to their knees. Shanjat, astride his black charger next to Jardir, thrust his spear into the air. 'Deliverer!'

The other Sharum took up the chant, followed by the kneeling chin, and then, a moment later, the rest of them. They thrust their spears skyward with every call, and their voices carried far into the night.

'Those are the voices of men!' Jardir boomed. 'The servants of Nie will hear you, and quail in fear!' He dropped back into his saddle, kicking off for the wall, followed by the Spears of the Deliverer and hundreds of roaring chin.

'Everam curse me,' Qeran muttered from atop the compound wall as he watched the Sharum march. 'Waning is upon us, and here I stand, useless.'

'Nonsense,' Abban said. 'The Deliverer needs his forges and glasseries guarded, that he may continue to arm his men after Waning. There may yet be fighting here.'

Qeran shook his head. 'You have done well in hiding yourself, khaffit. There is no tactical advantage to this place, no reason for the alagai to test your walls. And the walls,' he stamped his spear on the rampart, 'are stronger than those of the inner city. The Deliverer's ... craftsmen are safe.' He made the title seem a foul taste he could not scrape from his tongue.

'You said yourself the men are not ready,' Abban said, 'nor yourself. You have barely had your new leg a fortnight.'