robes as the Sunherald.
‘Who’s that?’ asked Berren.
‘The Sunbright,’ whispered Tasahre. Her grip on him eased.
‘What, Ansinnas?’
‘Yes.’ She let go of him. It seemed odd to Berren that with so many of the Emperor’s soldiers in the temple, the priests hadn’t called in their sword-monks. But they hadn’t. Apart from Tasahre, he couldn’t see a single one.
‘Is that usual?’
‘I wouldn’t know. I have never seen such a thing as this.’
‘When the warlock made the Headsman talk, he said she was the one he’d met with.’
Tasahre hissed. ‘And you would believe the spirit of a dead murderer, conjured by a warlock?’
Berren didn’t say anything. He could feel her unease, though. She wasn’t sure. There was doubt in her, just a crack of it, but enough to make her stay. ‘This is all a farce!’ she growled.
The Sunbright bent over Velgian. Light flowed from her hands, bathing him.
‘What’s she doing?’
‘Berren! I do not know!’ He’d never seen Tasahre so tense before.
The Sunbright stepped away from the body. The light faded from her fingers.
‘I have spoken to the spirit of the murderer,’ she said, loud and clear enough for everyone in the dome to hear. ‘He could not stand the decadence and the arrogance he saw. It was his decision to try and to kill Prince Sharda Falandawn. His alone.’
A rumble of discontent swept the men below. The overlord was shaking his head and looking at Kol. The justicar was shaking his head too, harder, almost trembling with anger. The Sunherald was smiling.
‘It’s not true!’ shouted Kol. ‘He wouldn’t! I know him — knew him. Someone paid him!’
‘He acted alone,’ said the Sunbright again.
Berren hissed. ‘It’s not fair! She’s lying! She must be! He
The Overlord and the Sunherald were glaring at each other, exchanging quiet heated words. The soldiers around them stirred uneasily. Hands slipped to sword-hilts.
Tasahre stood up, very slowly. She moved to the edge of the catwalk and leaned over, where anyone who looked couldn’t fail to see her. Kol was pushing his way towards the Sunbright, his face bright with fury. Temple soldiers moved to be in his way and grabbed at him. Kol went for his sword. Around them, the Emperor’s men began to move. Another sword came out of its sheath.
Tasahre drew a blade from across her back and pointed it down at the temple altar. ‘Liar!’ she screamed, and the whole of the dome seemed to ring with her voice. Below, everyone froze. They all looked up. ‘Sunbright Ansinnas! Your words carry the stink of falsehood!’ And then she jumped, right over the edge of the catwalk. It must have been at least thirty feet to the floor, and the whole temple shook as she hit it. Berren rushed to the edge, because surely no one could fall so far without breaking a bone at the very least — Velgian’s fall from the roof had been less and that had killed him! But Tasahre was already up, striding towards the middle of the temple, both swords out now, one held straight out in front of her, aimed right at the Sunbright’s face.
‘Traitor! Assassin!’ shouted the Sunbright. ‘Stop her!’
No one moved. They all seemed paralysed. The soldiers who stood in Tasahre’s way, the temple guard and the Emperor’s men alike, backed out of her path. She stopped in front of the Sunbright. The tip of her sword hovered between Ansinnas’ eyes. ‘Liar,’ she said again.
‘I speak as the spirit told me,’ said the Sunbright. Her voice was shaking, but maybe that was just because she had a sword in her face.
Tasahre sniffed the air. ‘Liar,’ she said again. ‘You did not speak to the spirit of this man at all. Every word you spoke, every single one, was false. You knew, before you even began, that this man did not act alone. How did you know that, Sunbright? The truth, Sunbright!’
Ansinnas started looking for a way out. Berren couldn’t see her eyes, but he could see the twitching of her head.
‘Did you pay for foreign soldiers to come to Deephaven? Did you?’
‘No!’ The Sunbright was quivering.
‘
The Overlord’s face had transformed. He’d gone from anger to the look of a cat who, quite unexpectedly, had cornered a mouse. He nodded towards the nearest of his soldiers. They moved towards the Sunbright.
‘No!’ The Sunbright shrank away from them. ‘Guards!’
Tasahre turned on the temple guard. ‘The first one of you that raises a blade, I will cut you down. Any of you.’
The Emperor’s men took hold of Ansinnas. They marched her away and no one moved to stop them. The Overlord and his followers and Kol all trailed after them. The Sunherald turned and walked out the other way, without a word to Tasahre. The priests and the temple guard went with him. Tasahre stood alone bedside Velgian’s body.
When everyone else was gone, Berren walked around the catwalk. On the other side of the dome, a tiny set of steep steps led down. He crossed towards the altar, but as he came close, Tasahre whipped round and pointed a sword at his face. It was the same thing he saw for ten minutes every day across the fighting circle, yet here and now, the sight almost stopped his heart. He froze, paralysed with a moment of utter terror.
‘And now you see,’ she said, as the tip of the sword held his eyes, ‘the power that this holds.’
As his heart remembered to beat again, he looked at her. Tear-tracks marked her cheeks.
30
They went through the rest of their daily routine. She worked him as hard as she always did, and the more his mind wandered, the more she pushed him. Sometimes he liked that, losing himself in the sheer physical energy she demanded from him. She still beat him at almost everything but he made her sweat to do it now, and there was no taking anything for granted any more. He had no idea, after what had happened in the temple, how she could put that aside and go back to the simple motions of the fight, thoughts unclouded by the fears and anxieties of the world. Yet he saw no guilt, no fear in her, only a deep sadness.
But today his timing was off, his footwork sloppy, and not just because of what Tasahre had done. Today was Moon-Day. Abyss-Day was tomorrow, the night before the Festival of Flames, the day he’d been waiting for ever since he’d fled the warlock. Tomorrow he’d find Master Sy again, and now the sight of Velgian had left him thinking of the thief-taker, of where he might be and what he was doing and why, and why did it matter so much, and what was it that Velgian had wanted him to know? He
When they were done, Tasahre held him back for a moment. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes did it for her, fixing his feet to the dirt while she sheathed her swords behind her back. She came towards him and held him, her hands on his shoulders, and stared at him, and then touched her cheek lightly to his, almost as though she knew their time was coming to an end. Maybe she was right. After today, maybe she’d be sent away. Or after tomorrow, maybe it would be Berren who left, off on some ship far away with his master, running from the justicar who was once his friend and the city he used to serve.
‘I do not know if I will be here in the morning,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘You have it in you to be a good man. Hold fast to that.’ She let go of him and left.
He watched the priests, later that afternoon, moving Velgian out of the temple before dusk prayers. They took him over to the same place they were keeping the warlock’s things. Berren went to prayers like a good novice, unsure whether the priests knew that Tasahre hadn’t been alone when she’d challenged the Sunbright. If they did,
