when she first tried, and kept still.
'Up to the tower, my queen!' he cried, almost gaily. She was to be married to the Destroyer, he told her - not quite truthfully, she thought, as she understood the Destroyer's words from the blue fire - so she would be Deorc's queen. But he had all the power, and he delighted in taking every opportunity to drive despair into her heart.
Pushing her ahead of him, Deorc and Stella made their way to the highest room in the tower above the House of Worship. They met a few people in the corridors, but so thoroughly had Deorc cowed those who worked there that none remarked on the bedraggled girl accompanying the dapper Head of the Council. Indeed, none gave any sign that there was anything amiss. Stella thought she recognised one man she saw as a member of the Council of Faltha. She couldn't remember his name, but dragged at the memory until she retrieved it, taking any chance to keep her mind working, focusing on anything but her predicament. The Arkhos of Firanes, that's who he was. Firanes! That's where I'm from!
He dragged her to a window, one of four quartering the circular room at the top of the tower.
'Gaze on the fruit of my master's plan!' he boasted. 'Look there!' He pointed out over the City, towards the south-west, where a vast plume of smoke hung. 'Escaigne, the sworn enemy of wicked, debauched Instruere, does his work! They have set fire to the Granaries, believing it would draw the Guard away from the heart of the City, leaving the Council vulnerable. It was a good plan! The only problem is that it was my plan! Ah, listen, my sweet. Can you not hear?' Against her wishes she heard faint cries and the sound of explosions. 'That is the sound of Escaignians and the Instruian Guard killing each other. I play them both like stringed instruments, one coun-terpointing the other, sending just enough reinforcements from The Pinion to keep the battle even and ensure the greatest number of deaths on both sides. See how I weaken the City, thus fulfilling my master's commands!'
Stella turned her head away, her mind's eye filling with imagined scenes of battle in which people died, people she knew from the market and the Ecclesia. Because of this man, the one she would have wed. His hand snaked out, grasping her jaw in a harsh grip, turning her head back to the window.
'Don't make me angry, my queen,' Deorc said from between clenched teeth. 'I have practised some new tricks which I long to show you. Is that what you want?' She shook her head, stomach icy with fear.
'Good. Since you desire so much to watch the destruction of Instruere, I will allow you to remain up here all afternoon. Keep a close watch, my queen. I shall ask you questions about it later. You wouldn't want to give me any wrong answers.' His level voice was more of a threat than any shout might have been.
'Now wait here until I bring back your jewellery.' He laughed his dry laugh and turned on his heel, as though grinding something in to the floor.
As soon as the door closed, Stella moved into a series of exercises. She needed the defiance, the self-assertion, whatever the risk, though she kept a careful ear for his footfall on the stone stairs. When he returned she acquiesced, as she always did since those terrifying first few days, not resisting as he chained her to a single bolt high on the wall, facing the south and east windows.
'I'll make sure you have plenty to look at,' Deorc promised her. 'And tonight, if you're good, I'll leave you here to watch the death of the Ecclesia.'
Stella tried to keep her renewed fear from showing on her face, but she must not have entirely succeeded, for the brute drew close and leered at her, his foul breath hot on her cheek. 'Oh, I neglected to inform you. I've invited the Ecclesia to join my party. We can't have a battle without allowing the fanatics to take part, now can we?'
The girl said nothing, but clearly Deorc enjoyed hurting her. 'Your friends will be invited too, don't
'Up to the tower, my queen!' he cried, almost gaily. She was to be married to the Destroyer, he told her - not quite truthfully, she thought, as she understood the Destroyer's words from the blue fire - so she would be Deorc's queen. But he had all the power, and he delighted in taking every opportunity to drive despair into her heart.
Pushing her ahead of him, Deorc and Stella made their way to the highest room in the tower above the House of Worship. They met a few people in the corridors, but so thoroughly had Deorc cowed those who worked there that none remarked on the bedraggled girl accompanying the dapper Head of the Council. Indeed, none gave any sign that there was anything amiss. Stella thought she recognised one man she saw as a member of the Council of Faltha. She couldn't remember his name, but dragged at the memory until she retrieved it, taking any chance to keep her mind working, focusing on anything but her predicament. The Arkhos of Firanes, that's who he was. Firanes! That's where I'm from!
He dragged her to a window, one of four quartering the circular room at the top of the tower.
'Gaze on the fruit of my master's plan!' he boasted. 'Look there!' He pointed out over the City, towards the south-west, where a vast plume of smoke hung. 'Escaigne, the sworn enemy of wicked, debauched Instruere, does his work! They have set fire to the Granaries, believing it would draw the Guard away from the heart of the City, leaving the Council vulnerable. It was a good plan! The only problem is that it was my plan! Ah, listen, my sweet. Can you not hear?' Against her wishes she heard faint cries and the sound of explosions. 'That is the sound of Escaignians and the Instruian Guard killing each other. I play them both like stringed instruments, one coun-terpointing the other, sending just enough reinforcements from The Pinion to keep the battle even and ensure the greatest number of deaths on both sides. See how I weaken the City, thus fulfilling my master's commands!'
Stella turned her head away, her mind's eye filling with imagined scenes of battle in which people died, people she knew from the market and the Ecclesia. Because of this man, the one she would have wed. His hand snaked out, grasping her jaw in a harsh grip, turning her head back to the window.
'Don't make me angry, my queen,' Deorc said from between clenched teeth. 'I have practised some new tricks which I long to show you. Is that what you want?' She shook her head, stomach icy with fear.
'Good. Since you desire so much to watch the destruction of Instruere, I will allow you to remain up here all afternoon. Keep a close watch, my queen. I shall ask you questions about it later. You wouldn't want to give me any wrong answers.' His level voice was more of a threat than any shout might have been.
'Now wait here until I bring back your jewellery.' He laughed his dry laugh and turned on his heel, as though grinding something in to the floor.
As soon as the door closed, Stella moved into a series of exercises. She needed the defiance, the self-assertion, whatever the risk, though she kept a careful ear for his footfall on the stone stairs. When he returned she acquiesced, as she always did since those terrifying first few days, not resisting as he chained her to a single bolt high on the wall, facing the south and east windows.
'I'll make sure you have plenty to look at,' Deorc promised her. 'And tonight, if you're good, I'll leave you here to watch the death of the Ecclesia.'
Stella tried to keep her renewed fear from showing on her face, but she must not have entirely succeeded, for the brute drew close and leered at her, his foul breath hot on her cheek. 'Oh, I neglected to inform you. I've invited the Ecclesia to join my party. We can't have a battle without allowing the fanatics to take part, now can we?'
The girl said nothing, but clearly Deorc enjoyed hurting her. 'Your friends will be invited too, don't
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