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Zax had stood guard over the queen’s body for most of the day and, apart from Lord Cantor, no other courtier had gained entrance to the room. When Macha finally returned from speaking to the dragon, he’d become overcome with emotion at the sight of her and failed to mention his fears that Cantor knew that the queen was dead. It was an omission he would soon come to bitterly regret.
*
LORD CANTOR GLANCED behind him, saw Macha enter the queen’s bedchamber, and smiled to himself. He murmured a command to his servant and watched as he trundled off to do his bidding.
Moments later, four burly guards appeared with the servant in tow and took up positions outside the bedchamber.
The corridor, still filled to bursting with waiting courtiers, fell silent and all eyes turned to Cantor.
‘The queen is not to be disturbed,’ he said amiably. ‘The gynoid and the robot are the only ones allowed to be with her at this time.
‘What of her death, my Lord?’
Cantor flicked a disdainful look at the questioner and
turned back to the mass of people before him.
‘Aggerron has named her heir. I was true witness to it,’ he lied. ‘There is no longer any need to crowd in on her in hopes of catching her last breath. She has named her heir and she will now be left to die in peace.’
‘Who has she named?’
‘Yes, who has she named?’
A great chorus of who has she named swept through the crowd.
Cantor took his time replying. He waited until there was a complete hush before he said, ‘Serillia. The queen has named the Princess Serillia as her one true heir.’
He was met with a sea of confused faces. No one had ever heard of such a person, but no one dared enquire as to who she was in case they were the only one who didn’t know. No one wanted to appear the fool.
One of Damanaclee’s spies noted the stunned expressions around him and then the wily look in Cantor’s eyes. He knew that there was something amiss and he also knew that if he returned to his master with a half-assed report he wouldn’t live to see the sun go down. So, he sidled away and went in search of the one Icarrion who would be able to shed some light on who this Princess Serillia was.
Murgatrood Carrgarrion was an ancient crone who boasted of witch blood. She had lived longer than even the queen and professed to know every secret the universe strove to keep. The spy found her easily enough. She kept a daily vigil at the tomb of her ancestors and welcomed anyone with a question and a coin to pay for the answer.
‘Princess Serillia?’ The old crone snorted and shook her head. ‘It will cost you three gemstones to get information from me on that one.’
The spy frowned and said nothing more. Three gemstones
were not within his gift. He had a handful of coins, but needed some of them to pay his way back to Plutonia. He would need a different means to pay the witch.
She was ready for that. ‘You can owe me the gemstones,’ she said. ‘I will have you swear a blood oath that you will pay me and, if you renege, your skin will fester, and your balls will drop off.’
He let the proposition, and the curse, hang between them for a moment and then he nodded his head.
‘She is a slayer of kings, a mistress of the blood and speaks the words of the dragon.’ The crone seemed to sink into a trance. ‘She voices sweet words and embraces all with kindness, yet her heart is black, and her bounty is false.’
‘Where does she come from? Who is she?’ The spy kept his voice low, lest he disturb and break the trance.
‘Beyond the bloodline. She comes from beyond the bloodline.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘There is another who also comes from beyond the bloodline. They will bring war and they will bring death.’
‘Enough of this nonsense. Explain yourself. My master won’t appreciate riddles.’
‘I piss on your master,’ she said, snapping back from the trance. ‘I’ll have my three gemstones before the next full moon - or beware your balls.’
The spy looked away. He still had questions, but knew it would be fruitless to ask them. He would have to be satisfied with the riddles and hope that Damanaclee had the gift to decipher them.