“How could the moon be used to save us?” Lord Tacsis asked from his seat. If Glass was any judge it was a question posed to allow Sherzal to answer. Lord Tacsis had been alone in his lack of surprise at the unfolding of recent events.
“The Ark can aim the moon,” Sherzal said. “It can make the moon’s focus spend more time in one part of the Corridor, less in another. With such control we could push back the ice from the empire—”
“And the price?” Lord Jotsis demanded.
“Somewhere else the ice would advance more swiftly,” Sherzal replied.
From the muttering behind Lord Jotsis it seemed that many of the Sis didn’t consider this too high a cost.
“Why then does Crucical not use this power?” Lord Tacsis presented Carvon Jotsis’s first point as if it were his own. “The emperors have dwelled in the Ark for centuries.”
Sherzal acknowledged the question with a nod. “The Ark needs to send energy to the moon so that it may flex and turn. To provide sufficient energy four shiphearts are required, and because of an ancient covenant set to ensure unity of purpose between the tribes, they must be the hearts of ships from each of the four tribes. Without these shiphearts the Ark cannot even be opened.”
A ripple of understanding ran through the crowd, followed by confusion.
“There are only three shiphearts in all of the empire.” Lord Glosis, her voice rusty with age and querulous. “And even if you have stolen from the Church you do not own the other two!”
“Strength is built from alliances, Lord Glosis.” Sherzal exposed her shark’s smile. “The strength of the great bow comes from the alliance of different woods, each with their own contribution to make.” She turned to the judges. “I said I would not plead guilty or claim dispensation. But I did not plead innocent. The truth is that I ordered the shipheart taken from Sweet Mercy convent. I state it now, with no shame. Guilty of taking from a handful of nuns, isolated on a lonely rock, something of incalculable benefit to all of the empire. Guilty of putting all our futures before the elitism of the Grey and the Red, and before the selfish abstractions of Holy Witches.” Sherzal walked behind her throne, facing the room over its high back. “The Noi-Guin have a marjal shipheart.”
A muttered discontent rose immediately. Many families among the Sis had lost members to the Noi-Guin. The deaths were often commissioned by other families, most of the remaining casualties were ordered “in-house” as a means of advancing personal prospects within a family.
“If you would see an end to the Noi-Guin,” Sherzal said, “I know of a way that will succeed where hundreds of years and thousands of troops have failed. Bring them into the fold. Let them take their place at the high table as the Noisis and there will be no more Noi-Guin. Let them add their shipheart to our cause.”
“That’s two.” Old Lord Glosis, hunched within her robes despite the heat.
Glass found herself sweating with the crackle and roar from the hearth behind her. She began to unwind her chain though she had no hope of escape.
“Two.” Sherzal held up a pair of fingers. “And Adoma has the last two required.” She raised the remaining fingers on her hand.
“You plan to invade Scithrowl?” A lord at the back barked a laugh.
“I plan an alliance.” Sherzal lowered her hand.
“With the battle-queen!” Carvon Jotsis’s outrage had nowhere left to take him, so he sat down. Others rose to their feet—many of them—cries of “Treachery!” on their lips.
“You would sell us into Scithrowl chains?” Lord Mensis cried.
Shouts of “Heresy!” from the judges’ bench.
“Adoma will provide two shiphearts and her war clans will clear our path to Verity,” Sherzal said, her voice rising above the swell of complaint. “My brother will be faced with two choices, where before he had only one, though he will not admit it.
“The first choice is to have the Scithrowl take the empire under their control, have their heresy in every church of the Ancestor, have our people enslaved, our nobility overthrown. Surely Crucical would ruin the Ark to deny them such a prize, but it would be a hollow victory, one battle in a lost war. This is currently his only choice. The Scithrowl cannot be held.
“The second choice is to accept me as the new emperor, maintaining the Lansis dynasty. To take the offer of Adoma’s shiphearts and by adding them to our own to gain dominion over the moon itself.
“Adoma will, through the sigil-work of her mages, retain the ability to destroy her two shiphearts from her own throne and in doing so destroy the Ark. This is her assurance of our good faith. But we will control the moon, and in exchange for its use in preserving Scithrowl and in furthering Adoma’s interests to the east, she will withdraw her forces.
“Our borders will be secured, our future ensured for generations to come, our honour restored. We will let the ice crush Durn and the moon will burn their ports to ash. And you, my friends, by joining your forces to my advance, will ensure that the flower of the empire survives this crisis and that your position as prime among the Sis is assured, favoured by my throne.”
The shouts of protest continued but began to ebb, many lords falling to intense discussion with their neighbours. Glass knew enough of folk to see that the tide had turned and all that remained was for Sherzal’s guests to realize it themselves.
“The only casualties that are unavoidable stand before us.” Sherzal recaptured the lords’ attention. “The Inquisition will never accept a Scithrowl alliance. I will need to make an end of the abbess and her organization.” She waved a hand at the judges. “Can any among you claim that the Inquisition is a thing of worth, an asset that should not
