“Hayeel?” Salay eventually asked, after puzzling it over for a long time. “What did you mean about them coming further than I had?”

  “They are both from the central zone, I think. The heart of the empire is closer to here than most places in Dahel, my prince, but certainly there. Both here and in the heart there are no slaves, few servants, at least, there aren't any who hang around just to open doors. Few rituals to establish who is of higher rank. That is also what was happening in my discussions just before that. They were bored, almost in a strange country, and guarding a couple of boxes, one which few would understand as being valuable and the other too heavy to move without several people. They weren't feeling particularly valued. Neither of them was very impressed to overhear that my grandmother had lost her position. So Takeel openly questioned my judgement, and Malene decided she didn't want to believe I could hear your thoughts. Now I have suggested that not only do I not mind if they wear armour or clothes, but that part of their normal motivation for the armour is questionable even at home, that here it is irrelevant, that there are reasons against armour as well as the ones for that they're used to and the decision could be important to their duty. As we left, they were both deciding they don't really know enough and were hoping the other would have some good suggestions, or they're going to have to ask me. Were they in their armour the whole journey?”

  “Always armed, not always armoured. Captain Davdo asked them about salt and rust and swimming long enough to get picked up if they got washed overboard. They just wore their robes after that.”

  “And how much of the journey did they see?”

  “You mean were they below deck all the time? No. They shared guarding the travel-chest with Gahel, who's in the imperial guard and Bilay, who left the imperial guard with a knee injury to become my accountant-cum-secretary. He can't run a long way but knows how to handle a sword.”

  “Ah. And what is Gathal's role?”

  “Sort of roving secretary-cum-advisor.”

  “Dogsbody,” Gathal added, “fetching and carrying, reminding my prince to tie his shoe laces. Oh, also hunting for a wife so I can honourably ask my prince not to wake me up in the middle of the night when he decides he needs to work out if he can, say, visit Repink the next day.”

  “I didn't think you minded, Gathal.” Salay said.

  “I don't mind, my prince, I just keep track of all the tasks you have set me, and why. That was one of them.”

  “And would you like to share your thoughts with my prince regarding my handling of Takeel and Marlene's little crisis of confidence?”

  Gathal looked at her and said “I don't know that I dare.”

  “Do you dare not to, my advisor?”

  “My prince... Duchess Hayeel has pointed out that her family history has not been made known to them, and they have reacted in a very human way. I guess that I should have briefed them, but I didn't know they weren't briefed by her imperial majesty.”

  “Do you know what they were told, my prince?” Hayeel asked.

  “I know that mother asked for two volunteers to come with me to become the first members of the next empress's guard.” Salay replied.

  “And were they given a chance to discuss this with their families?” Hayeel asked.

  “I don't think they would have done so.” Salay said. “To join the empress's guard is normally a thing done without family approval. Particularly from the central zone.”

  “Bilay, and then Gathal, can you tell me what the perception is of the empress's guard is among the high-born of the central zone?”

  “They are perceived as very strange women: never showing their faces, learning to fight, not marrying as far as people know, there are also horrible rumours of indecent acts and strange rituals.” Bilay said.

  “A role for ugly women who would not dare go out in society without the helmets.” Gathal said. “The reply to someone saying they're not pretty is to say 'you're not so ugly you need to join the empress's guard.' Or kids being really nasty say the opposite.”

  “And would you say, Gathal, that lady Takeel and Malene fit that accusation?”

  “Not at all, Duchess.”

  “And have you just met them on this journey?” Hayeel asked him.

  “I've had the pleasure of knowing Takeel for several years, Duchess, Malene somewhat less. Oh. I see what you're getting at. I didn't ask them. Do I take it that they heard me claiming to have asked all the girls I knew?”

  “I do not like to divulge everything that I hear, Gathal. But you should perhaps qualify your criteria about who you asked in their hearing.”

  “That would be embarrassing, Duchess.”

  “Would you prefer me to speak to them?”

  “In... very general terms?” Gathal asked.

  “Perhaps you should just admit to Salay that you decided to only ask those you knew would refuse you?”

  “You are right of course, Duchess. Except for the first one.”

  “Truly, Gathal? What changed your mind?”

  “That is what Gathal does not want known, Salay,” Hayeel said. “Bilay, to your knowledge are all the Empress's guard followers of Christ?”

  “I think they probably are. It never occurred to me.”

  “It's not a strict requirement,” Salay said, “but almost all are, and it was a requirement for volunteers on this trip.”

  “That's nice.” Hayeel said, glancing at Gathal, “Perhaps we should all have studies together at the embassy?”

  “Fifty carpets?” Taheela exclaimed, as the last one was unloaded from the carts.

  “What are we supposed to do with so many?”

  “Work out what fits, and sell the rest,” Salay replied. “But I suppose I could give one to Esmetherelda and Hal as a wedding present. You can blame Hayeel if you like, she failed to tell me how big any of the rooms were.”

  “For a very good reason,” Hayeel said, “Captain Davdo was planning on his own cargo. Taheela, I don't know if you heard, but this is grandma's travelling chest. Makes my little pile of coins look rather insignificant, doesn't it?”

  “Depends what's in it.”

  “I've no idea. No, that's not true. My prince says his imperial majesty had it filled with a small fraction of what you'd have inherited if only you'd been born first.”

  “In which case I'd be you, and would have been packed off here with Dad's killer and able to hear thoughts? No thanks, sister. Who has the key?”

  “Takeel, and Malene, I'll insist that prince Salay gives you a full briefing on my family background and life sometime, that way I can check on his memory and correct him,” Hayeel said. “My suitor, would you like to tell us all about the key?”

  “Urm, yes. I put it somewhere safe.” Salay said.

  “You lost it?” Taheela accused, forgetting decorum.

  “No. I put it somewhere very safe. To be precise, I put it in my own money-bag. Bilay can tell us about what happened after that, because I've just checked and it's not there now.”

  “Ah, which money bag, highness?” Bilay asked.

  “As far as I know, I only have one.”

  “No, highness, you have several. For accounting purposes I rotate them, I thought you knew.”

  “Come to think of it, I did know that once.”

  “But I haven't found a key.”

  “Yes, you asked me about it. I said it was Duchess Hayeel's and needed to stay with us.”

  “Oh, that key.” Bilay said, turning red.

  “Light dawns.” Hayeel whispered to Taheela in Windwardese. “It's good for drawing out the suspense, isn't it. Taheela you might need to fetch your sewing kit.”

  “You're joking. In front of everyone?” Taheela whispered back.

  “It went into the radio spares box, highness.”

  “Not the one that was absolutely coming with us before Naneela sent it to Tesk by mistake?” Salay said.

  “That one, highness.”

  “Well, that's a topic for discussion with the technicians on Tesk,” Hayeel said. “How big was the key?”

  “About the same size as this one,” Bilay said, lifting one from his pocket.

  “What key's that?” Salay asked.

  “Your chest, highness,” Bilay replied.

  “No, mine looks a bit like like a tree. That looks different.”

  “May I try that key in the chest?” Hayeel asked.

  “If it works,” Salay asked, “does that mean my chest-key went to Tesk?”

  “It can't have done, highness. I opened your chest after the ship left.”

  “I wonder which key went to Tesk then,” Hayeel said, undoing the catch on the chest. “This key certainly works here.”

  “I'm confused,” Salay said. “But I think it would be best if we allowed Duchess Hayeel to open her chest in private.”

  “No,” Hayeel said. “I insist on my prince, Taheela, Takeel and Malene being here.”

  “I do not understand, Duchess,” Malene said.

  “I know. You think me foolish. One day you will understand, and Takeel does already.”

  “You satisfy our curiosity,” Takeel said, “and demonstrate that you trust us.”

  “That's not all, but it's enough for now.” Hayeel said. “Exactly, my prince.” she added when Salay thought that Hayeel was showing that she valued them more than the money. And there was money. Neatly arranged in rolls straight from the imperial mint. But there was not just money. There were also jewels and jewellery. “Your coronet, Duchess.” Salay said. “And the simpler one is Taheela's.”

  “Simpler” Taheela asked, looking at the gems on her coronet. “Do I dare ask how much it's worth?”

  “It would be repudiating your birth-right if you were to sell it,” Salay said, “So, more than this chest contains every year. Repink is a productive duchy. The duke or duchess is expected to invest at least a third of her income in improvements, however. The crown has been carrying out that task on the duchy's behalf.”

  “Fair enough,” Hayeel said. “Since the institutions of the crown unjustly deprived our grandmother of her childhood, her life and her liberty, and also our parents'.”

  Takeel winced audibly at such harsh words to the prince.

  “I have a letter for you from my imperial father, Hayeel, that addresses the questions you asked in your fifth letter. And he honours you for asking them, as do I. Takeel, Malene, Duchess Hayeel's words are just and honourable. Except of course had things been different, it is unlikely that your parents would have met, nor the prophecy be fulfilled in you, Hayeel.”

  “I know, my prince. I know and I understand, and I want to hear the whole prophecy and be sure it can only be me. Rena of Tesk has no relatives who were slaves, but...”

  “You are the only person on the planet who matches, Hayeel.” Salay said, catching her hands, and thinking the prophecy to her.

  “Thank you, Salay,” Hayeel said. “You've just removed a weight from my soul I'd forgotten was there. Taheela, I'm sure that mummy would not agree with me inheriting everything and you nothing, and you have your position of lady fifth rank to think of.”

  “Don't you dare,” Taheela said. “It's bad enough that you're going to lumber be with all that nobility stuff when the our beloved emperor dies or abdicates. I'm not well suited for doing anything but causing a scandal and cooking.”

  “Don't sell yourself short, Taheela. You're also excellent at explaining the gospel, bargaining and making people love you. And you're good at managing money. So, this is for your son, this is for your daughter, and this is for you to get that dress made that you keep thinking about.” She handed over three of the smallest rolls of coins.

  “You're joking,” Taheela said.

  “I don't recommend you wear it anywhere but your bedroom, of course.”

  “It'd be a total waste of money.”

  “So, tone it down until you can wear it in public,” Hayeel suggested.

  “No, I meant I'm not exactly back to my normal size or shape yet,” Taheela corrected, but having the grace to blush.

  “OK, but you're coming to my wedding, and you're wearing your coronet. You need at least one fifth-rank dress, unless you want to wear something like the court fashions here.”

  “You're determined to get me to accept this, aren't you?”

  “You have, discussion over,” Hayeel said, taking out another roll before shutting the lid. Then she turned her attention to Takeel and Malene, she said “Ladies, as we've discussed on the way here, the clothes you have will not let you blend in. I'm told the winter does get below freezing here, at least sometimes, but even now the wind can be bitter, as you've noticed. I do not expect you to buy your work clothes out of your pay, and until we've found some buyers for Salay's carpets he's not got as much money as I do. Clothes here are made to measure except for certain trades you're not in. Taheela can interpret for you if I'm too busy. Don't take Saval, unless he's going to be totally blindfolded. And even then... No, thinking about it, just don't take Saval. You'll need several changes of clothes, of course.” Handing over two Canethese coins each, she added “These are two-hundred crown coins, each worth a month's wages for a menial worker, that's to say if you eat as cheaply as you can, you can eat for about two crowns a day, and a cheap rent for a family house is another two crowns. I was asked if I wanted a neighbour's son to cut the grass for me, being the spoilt son of a wealthy family, rather than a hard-working adult with a family to support, he wanted a two hundred crown piece per month for a few hours work each week. You'll probably need a hundred crowns per dress. The price you see on the fabric at a dress shop will be more than at a market, but would include measuring you and making it into a what they consider a standard dress here. Let Taheela haggle for you, it's expected, but I'd haggle on things like extra stitching on seams, pockets, things like that, rather than price.”

  “And if we prefer to sew them ourselves?” Malene asked.

  “Then certainly go to the cloth market. We have needles and thread and the like.”

  “I mean, there would be no shame, no dishonour?” Malene asked.

  “There would be acceptance if you said the style was so different that you didn't think you could explain it to a dressmaker here. And there would be honour if your stitches were even, symmetry is preserved and the result appeals to the eye.”

  “Unlike the shapeless sacks that Hayeel wears when she goes out.” Taheela said.

  “Hayeel's clothes are entirely correct for a public official,” Takeel said.

  “Yes, but are they entirely correct for a duchess of the empire and future empress who doesn't want her wedding night to end in disaster when her prince is so stunned about the curvy bits God gave her that in his rapt study of them he entirely forgets to breathe?” Taheela asked.

  “The tendency to poetic expression is a family trait, you notice, Salay.”

  “I also notice you're calling me by name,” he smiled.

  “You thinking the whole prophecy to me was reassuring,” Hayeel replied. “And now that the chest has been opened, and the carpets delivered, shall we continue with the tour of the embassy? Or would you like to see your rooms and unpack a little first?”

  “Are there important things on the agenda for the day?”

  “Very, my prince. You must unpack, you must hand me the letters you've written to me, and I must hand you the ones I've written to you. And if sometime I am to obey your father in spirit if not in word, then perhaps we should both change into less formal clothes, since I don't think I could possibly get any ice or water down your collar, and I don't think I could undertake such an adventure dressed as an imperial servant either. It wouldn't feel right.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “You could just just push him into the pool, Hayeel.” Taheela chipped in.

  “I have no desire to be nasty to my prince, Taheela. I'm at least going to wait until the water's warm enough for a couple of lengths.”

  “My advisor, does it sound to you that I should just stay away from the pool?” Salay asked Gathal.

  “I think, highness, that I ought to stay well away from giving advice on that topic.”

  “Why did you ask girls to marry you if you wanted refusals?”

  “I promised you that I would ask, highness. And it became a challenge, how unattractive could I make a proposal without it being taken as an insult.”

  “I don't understand,” Takeel said. “You were asking for the sake of refusals?”

  “I realised I wasn't as opposed to going as I'd thought, lady Takeel, but I'd promised I'd ask everyone.”

  “I noticed you didn't ask me,” Takeel said.

  “True, nor did I ask Malene, but I'd heard you were both coming. I don't think my prince would have accepted marriage to either of you as an excuse to stay in Dahel. Quite the opposite in fact.”

  “And there we were thinking it was just that you had no intention of asking anyone in the empress's guard to marry you,” Malene said.

  “Asking anyone in the empress's guard would have been counter-productive Ladies Malene and Takeel. I'm not entirely indecisive.”

  “Just slightly,” Hayeel said. “If he had asked you, Takeel, what would you have said?”

  “I'd have said no one joins the empress's guard because they are hoping for a husband.”

  “But your grandmother joined, and later married,” Hayeel probed.

  “So his imperial highness says,” Takeel said. “I didn't know that.”

  “You don't talk about your families, do you?” Salay said. “Everyone assumes it's too painful.”

  “It is too painful,” Takeel said.

  Malene added “Recruits are told, 'Even if everyone is happy within your family that you are here, don't speak about it. Because some of us are not here with our family's approval. Some of us are here even without our family's knowledge. You do an important task, but not everyone is happy we do it.' And so we don't talk.”

  “I feel it is important as future empress that I understand your pain, Takeel. It does not need to be now, but sometime, please, explain it to me. If you wish to know the things that have caused me pain first, I will tell you. I just don't want to bore everyone who knows, nor to claim that my past pain is greater than your present pain, or that that would in any way invalidate what you feel. What I want to tell you is that you are valued, that your pain is real, and pretending it does not matter is not a thing that helps you grow, any more than clinging on to it as though it will always be the most important thing in your life will.”

  “I've heard that speech before, duchess.”

  “Do not ignore me, lady Takeel. I said I feel it important, I will not go away and give up.”

  “Then name the hardest thing you've ever chosen to do, duchess.” Takeel challenged.

  “The hardest? I don't know. There are two that spring to mind. The first was that I said nothing when my mother was taken to the slave pens and whispered 'this stays' to me about her heart medicine which I knew she needed daily. If I had spoken, maybe she would still be alive, but surely she would have been raped and beaten after living all her life with first the kindly master into whose service she was born and then with my foreign father who adored her and spent two decades trying to get her her freedom before he was killed by a corrupt official for asking for reasonable mercy. The second was when the ambassador to the court of Caneth, my husband-in-name but not in fact, who I had just led to Christ as he was dying in much the same way my father did, told me that he was that corrupt official, responsible for the destruction of my father, my mother, my life. And he begged me to forgive him. And I felt that I had to or I would be denying Christ. But I did forgive him. There is a third thing, which I played a part. A woman of Tesk was here in Caneth, and she bore the marks of a priestess of dum-semb, the hideous religion of the doom-guard. Before her daughter I denounced her and revealed her crime, and her daughter, barely sixteen, demanded that her own mother face justice on Tesk, knowing that the death penalty applied unless her mother repented before the trial began. God was merciful and she did repent, eventually, but I cannot imagine that daughter's pain in the thirty-six hours before then.”

  Takeel said “My parents, without my knowledge, had arranged that I marry someone. It really doesn't really matter who. They thought it a good match, and it probably was, we got on well together anyway. We weren't neighbours, but met quite often. I thought he was just a friend. I had always enjoyed outside activities, so had he. He joined the imperial army, I started looking at the empress's guard. I knew it wasn't the same, I knew it wasn't especially popular, but it seemed to fit me. This was four years ago, he was twenty, I was eighteen. My mother heard, and rather than face the shame of telling him I was interested in the guard, which she thinks makes me a man-hater, she told him that I'd rejected the arranged marriage, and that I never wanted to see him again. He took her at her word, and got himself reassigned to border patrol. There was a late storm in the mountains and he never got there. His family blamed me, my mother blamed me, and I ran away. I joined the guard out of feeling responsible for his death, so I wouldn't have deprived them of him for nothing but curiosity. I ran away from home, that night when I had an enormous argument with mum. Now, she won't talk to me, won't have me in the house. That's what it's been like the last four years. Last time I was home, in the garden, talking to my sister, she called her away, and accused me of trying to recruit her. I miss my family so much, but every time I try to get close it hurts more. So, here I am, running away again. They don't even know that I'm here. I was going to ask my sister what she thought of me coming, but all I did was listen to her dreams for the future and tell her I really miss her and mum and Dad.”

  “I hope you will forgive me, lady Takeel.” Gathal said.

  “What for?”

  “For suggesting to Nulay that he might spend a season in the border patrol and see if you'd maybe changed your mind when he got back. I assume it was Nulay?”

  “It was.”

  “He asked me what to do; should he try to talk to you, to hear from you what he had done wrong, whether your mother had been mistaken. That's when I made the suggestion. The responsibility for his trip does not lie with you at all, but with me, and your mother for her lies which upset him, of course.”

  “You knew Nulay?”

  “We were cousins. But I don't suppose he ever mentioned me.”

  “You're not 'my cousin with the wrong name'?”

  “Ah. He did, mention me.”

  “You were the one with the jar of bees,” Takeel accused.

  “Guilty, the poor things. Were you the girl who out-shot him so he spent the next month practising, and then broke his arm when he fell out of the tree trying to replace his target?”

  “Yes. I'd forgotten that! That was even longer ago, wasn't it?”

  “A bit. We have a lot of stories we could swap if you like? If that's not painful?”

  Takeel looked at him for a while and then said, “Yes.”

  “Yes it's too painful, or to swapping stories?”

  “Yes, we can swap stories.”

  “And may I tell mother what you have shared of your mother's lies — that you never rejected Nulay?”

  “Your mother is Nulay's mother's sister? Countess of Tenik?”

  “Of the duchy of Repink, yes.”

  “Good friend of my parents' countess. I don't want to cause trouble for my parents.”

  “I'm not thinking of trouble for your parents, but repairing your reputation.”

  “Please do think of avoiding trouble for my parents, Gathal.”

  Hayeel said, “You don't think that when Gathal tells his mother about you over the radio and asks you speak to her also, and his mother draws some conclusions of her own, that sort of speculation and rumour reaching your family might not correct some of your mother's mistaken assumptions?”

  Takeel looked confused, “what conclusions?”

  “I think countess Hayeel thinks mother might guess that I'm not as indecisive as I used to be, lady Takeel.”

  “I suppose that's what mothers hope for, isn't it?” Takeel said, blushing prettily. “What does she think about the guard?”

  “Mother has heard quite a lot about the guard, and met a number of members on various occasions. And even attended some of their weddings, I believe.”

  “Hayeel,” Salay said. “Would now be a good time to give us that tour?”

  During a lull in the conversation in the middle of the meal, Gathal said “Urm, Takeel and I would like to say that, urm, we're talking.”

  “Thinking we might even hold hands under the table too,” Takeel said, with a grin.

  “Well that's a relief,” Malene said. “No offence meant, Gathal you're a nice enough person, but I never liked the idea of pairing up with anyone else's reject.”

  That rather excludes Gahel too,” Gathal said, “So you're really cutting down your options, Malene.”

  “I don't want options, I just want to confirm some things.”

  “Ah!” Takeel teased, “Now I understand why you decided to come!”

  “I trust in your total discretion, countess,” Malene said, blushing and carefully watching her plate.

  “Of course, Malene. But two men in this room now hopefully wonder if that blush means you're interested in them, and are racking their memories to see if you've dropped any hints of interest they might have missed. So if you want to keep them guessing then you're probably eating every meal sat at an equal distance between them, etcetera.”

  “I shouldn't have said anything should I?” Malene groaned. “Calm down, pretend I didn't say anything, let me have at least a few weeks of getting settled in here before you start bombarding me with flowers, or local dainties.”

  “Or elegant knives, as Esmetherelda suggested?” Bilay asked.

  “No gifts, OK? I won't be swayed by them, and it'll just make me feel bad for getting someone's hopes up. For the record the main reason I wanted to come was very similar to the main reason I joined the guard, it sounded like a great big challenging adventure.”

  “So you enjoy learning languages, then?” Saval asked.

  “Careful, Saval.” Bilay said. “If you go offering extra lessons I'll have to sit in on them and riposte with fencing practice.”

  “Everyone will have to sit in on them,” Salay said.

  “No, it's very simple,” Hayeel teased. “The optimistic young men will simply have to start to work on their poetry. What kind of girl doesn't like a nice romantic poem?”

  “The sort that joins the empress's guard, of course. What sort of mind-reader are you?”

  “The sort who tries to gives people the opportunity to say things they like or don't like, saving in this case a great deal wasted time and paper. But trying not to force you into saying anything.”

  “What's that got to do with not sitting in on extra language lessons.”

  Switching to Windwardese Hayeel said, “The best language lesson is the one that does not have a beginning or an end.”

  “You mean,” Saval said, “that we should speak in Windwardese as much as possible?”

  “Yes. You want to become fluent, don't you? Then practice, practice, practice.”

  Switching back to Dahelese she added, “And make sure you understand. If you do not understand, then ask what 'fluent' means, Bilay. It means able to understand and speak easily, without mistakes.”

  “That'll take years,” Malene objected.

  “I have not heard how long the future ambassador will be here, nor how big a staff he or she will have, nor what Salay's plans are, nor how the radio will change things. But in any case, I have found being ambassador an amazing adventure. And it will become a bigger adventure yet when the aliens are called. I hope Salay is not planning that we will retire safely to the heart of the Empire and ignore what is happening, or even worse, send me back there to pine away without him while he stays. Well that's reassuring anyway.”

  “You would be an excellent spy, Hayeel.” Salay said.

  “Yes. There are forty-six of us with the gift now, so I'm no longer tempted to play politics on Tesk, but any of us would make good spies. Which reminds me, my prince: news on Tesk: as far as I've heard there are still people keeping away from windows in the academy administration building, and there have been two acolytes of dum-semb in the staff of the pastor's training school, influential people who quietly encouraged and supported the most vocal in advocating against traditional sermons. They fed the crabs.”

  “That's a euphemism?” Takeel asked.

  “Not very. They are killed, strangled, and their bodies thrown from the cliffs. near the bottom, there are long sharp claws, knives that break the bodies, making it easier for the crabs to feed, and to make sure that no-one can survive by pretending death. The law of Tesk does not allow a proper burial for those who follow dum-semb.”

  Takeel looked pale. “Can you tell us of dum-semb? How did you learn about it?”

  “Perhaps now is the time to share more of my history. Salay knows all, others less.”

  “I will tell it, if I may, Hayeel.” Salay said, “As you said earlier, you can see if I paid attention.”

  And he did. And he told it well, too. As he got to her encounter with the dum-semb and the priestly marks, he asked Hayeel to take over, and then he continued, including the history with her meeting Esmetherelda and Hal, and other events that she'd only just read to him.

  She realised that he had a remarkable memory for details.

  “I find myself most impressed by your memory, Salay.”

  “I find that everything about you makes a massive impression on me. So don't be too impressed. It doesn't work that well on other subjects. But back to dum-semb, I have a question that has been nagging at me.”

  “Imperial highness,” Takeel said, “I would like to see that pattern of dots, my mother it seems... I can't say it.”

  “There are other patterns,” Salay said, “Other related groups that sprung from the same root. Most do not involve human sacrifice. Dum-semb is the most organised, the most vicious.”

  “But for a baroness of the central zone to wear any such marks...” Takeel said.

  “Is not normal, no. And in part it answers my question” Salay said, “The gospel-resistant, change-resistant elite known as the central zone would be a perfect breeding ground for dum-semb or dum-semb-like teaching, wouldn't it?”

  “Or the corruption-riddled bureaucracy that cries social change at your imperial father's moves to resolve historic miscarriages of justice,” Bilay said, “or, indeed, the military command that sends troops through mountains in early spring with only summer tents.”

  “You speak of Nulay's expedition?” Takeel asked.

  “And others like it, beforehand.” Bilay said, “Late storms are not so rare, normally it is not bright young officers that are killed, but men being sent there for punishment, so the military bureaucracy didn't care enough to change the standing orders or training system.”

  “The military bureaucracy killed Nulay?” Takeel asked.

  “The combination of weather, incorrect equipment and insufficient training killed him,” Salay corrected, “Had they known how to make themselves a shelter using the summer tent in a snow-drift, they would have been OK. They didn't, instead it seems they tried putting up the tents, which were found abandoned, ripped by the wind, and then they pressed on. It seems they didn't even know they could have used the ripped tent fabric as extra capes to keep them a bit warmer. The mountain-training they should have had would have told them these things, but the trainer was a known drunkard who signed anything presented to him, whose assistant normally covered for him. The assistant was ill that day. These things are known. What happened, is not known. It is guessed that they found the trainer half-drunk, he signed their training passes and went back to his bottle, or perhaps he fell asleep in the middle of the lesson. The people directly involved: the trainer, the head of the training centre who knew of the trainer's habit but did not discipline him because he was a cousin, and so on have all been punished. But it shows the problem: procedures are not carried out properly, people know of problems, but don't care. And the bureaucrats feather their own nests and cry social change if father tries to intervene.”

  “My prince,” Hayeel said, “I apologise, I did not know. I will not resist returning to the empire.”

  “There are more than ten thousand bureaucrats in the empire Hayeel.”

  “So at twenty a week it will take ten years. But I expect I can interview more than twenty a week, even with breaks and children. And we can ask for help from the High Council. There are a couple of girls who have studied Dahelese and Tunganese.”

  “Tunganese? Who still speaks that?” Takeel asked.

  “Spoken like a true resident of the central zone, lady Takeel!” Salay said, “Sorry, but there are lots of people who do, both in the Tunga protectorate and in the outer kingdoms. I also had some lessons.”

  “We could probably recruit at least quarter of the girls on that course if we negotiated some kind of one-year cultural immersion cum-work experience in a new anti-corruption unit, via a trip to the Isles if necessary.. Maybe a division of the empress's guard, as it's going to be all women?”

  “You're amazing,” Salay exclaimed. “Captain Takeel, what do you think about that change?”

  “Yet another thing for people to hate the guard for?” Takeel asked.

  “Do you think so? Do people hate the empire so much?” Hayeel asked.

  “Hate the empire?” Takeel was taken aback.

  “I knew there was some corruption, but the level of systematic corruption I'm hearing of today for the first time must weaken the empire, and breed resentment. Revolution is not unheard of, nor at all impossible where corruption is common. Look at the history of Tesk. The twin guardians against corruption — the nobility and the high council — became slack, paralysed by the scale of the problem. People thought it was normal, and prosecutions were unpopular. And then the high council and the nobility were removed, the first by lies, the other by crowds screaming the slogans of the doom-guard. History was forgotten, and look what happened there.”

  “Do not say it could never happen in the empire,” Salay said. “It almost did, before the empress from Tesk came. Dum-semb priests were in key positions, the assistant to the grand-vizier, and the war minister, for instance. She came to stop a dum-semb-inspired war, and uncovered an even deeper plan. The war plan involved almost the whole army marching to Tew, and then on to Caneth. Meanwhile at home, the carefully picked remnant of the army — dum-semb members all — would mount an attack on the emperor. That is when the empress's guard was formed, loyal to the empress beyond even their families, because for some their family members were followers of dum-semb. This piece of history, showing the weakness of the empire, is still an official secret, do not pass it on.”

  “If dum-semb is again common in the empire, or other groups that practice human sacrifice, the aliens will not come, will they?” Saval said.

  “And the sun will destroy,” Hayeel said. “But it is too dangerous to rush back to the empire now, Salay. Can we pray for our friend, prince and future emperor, good servants of the empire? He needs wisdom, understanding and knowledge, not just this scary speculation.”

  “And then show me the marks that say dum-semb, please, duchess Hayeel. I want to know if it is the guard my mother hates, or the empire with Godly emperors on the throne.”

  “And we'd better finish setting up the radio,” Bilay said.

  “You know who Malene is interested in,” Salay said.

  “Of course,” Hayeel replied.

  “And what you said about both Bilay and Saval finding that news optimistic was true?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don't want to abuse your ability, Hayeel, but assuming Hal is happy with the idea of being catalyst again, I don't want to take everyone with us to Tesk. But Malene and Takeel ought to come. Bilay's stomach is still an issue, but I'd normally take him and Gathal, and leave Saval and Gahel to sell carpets, but if that means interfering in nascent love...”

  “Irrespective of nascent love, wouldn't it be better to just start things using the radio, Salay? We don't know if the last hold-outs in the siege of the administration building have finally been flushed out yet, and it'll be a while before lectures re-start. Every one of you is travel-weary. And the route from here to Tesk is open far longer than the one to Captita or Dahel.”

  “I expect you are right. So it is Bilay?”

  “I will not comment on Malene's thoughts, but my main reason for not wanting to run off to Tesk is I want you here, Salay.”

  “You have plans?”

  “I have a great many plans. Including introducing you at church, feeding you local delicacies and removing obstacles to kisses.”

  “Oh yes?” Salay asked. “Should I be concerned that you say such a thing quite near to the pool?”

  “I don't if you've noticed, Salay, but I'm still not secure enough to feel comfortable with the idea of pushing you into the pool or putting ice down your back. But I do like holding your hand.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable with such ideas?”

  “Yes. Relax a little, and don't put me on a pedestal. I'm not perfect, as Taheela will tell you.”

  “You seem pretty perfect to me.”

  “That's because you can't hear my insecure thoughts. I still struggle with the thought that my late husband-in-name must have found me at least a bit repulsive to resist me so long.”

  “You're anything but repulsive, Hayeel.”

  “But you've only seen my face and what this modest dress or 'shapeless sack' as Taheela calls it lets you see. So I'm tempted to step out of this dress and go for a swim, flaunting myself in front of you to make sure you like the way I look. Is that holy? Other than being my sister's advice, what's good about it? Isn't it as bad as the noble daughters at the ball you wrote to me about?”

  “Your sister advised you to swim in your underwear?”

  “I did have my swimming outfit on under this, I'm not that immodest. But it's not God-honouring behaviour, is it?”

  “It wouldn't be God-honouring behaviour to swim for the purpose of showing off our flesh, no. But would it be God-honouring behaviour if we avoided staring at each other and simply had a swim? It has been warmer than I thought it would be, and there won't be many days like this I expect, if they're talking about freezing weather in a month.”

  “I hear your thoughts, Salay. You know it's wrong, but hope for glimpses.”

  “I do. I never imagined having this conversation with you, and you've certainly fuelled my curiosity, even more than normal, I mean. So what should we do? It would be a good evening to swim, wouldn't it?”

  “If you enter the water first, and then turn away. I could then enter without you seeing too much of me, and then we reverse the procedure on getting out. Would that frustrate your God-given and sin-amplified desires enough to be honouring our creator? Or should we swim separately?”

  “Don't ask me, Hayeel. I'm biased, curious.”

  “See? I'm not perfect. If I was perfect I wouldn't have awakened this in you. I'm sorry.”

  “Do you really think you're repulsive?”

  “Think it? Not really. Feel it? Fear it? Yes.”

  “Are you talking about your shape or your skin tone?”

  “I know I'm not as dark-green as some, nor as pale as others. I'm not variegated, if that's what you mean.”

  “I like your colour.”

  “I'd noticed that.”

  “And I like your face and I've seen that picture of your hair, which I like the thought of touching.”

  “I'd noticed that too. I don't think you get to play with my hair before we've kissed.”

  “Probably not. Hugs too, I assume.”

  “You'd like to hug me?” Hayeel asked, in a strange voice.

  “Of course.”

  “Not of course. He didn't touch me, Salay. Not my hair, not my face, just held my hand to steady me when the going was rough.”

  “Duchess Hayeel of Repink, will you do me the honour of joining me in a dance?”

  “I don't hear any music, my prince. Nor do I know any pair-dances.”

  “Finally something I must teach you!” Salay said happily, turning to face her. “Left hand to shoulder, right to waist.”

  “Now?”

  “We have flat ground, the evening is only warm not hot, and if we trip into the pool then so be it.”

  “If we trip into the pool, Salay, then we'll need to fix the fence.”

  “We could go beside the stream, I suppose.”

  “Oh! That reminds me!”

  “Yes?”

  “I proved where the stream goes.”

  “I don't think I knew it went anywhere. Other than down I mean.”

  “Then let me show you,” Hayeel said.

  “If we dance to the stream, I'll let you show me.”

  “I want to take you to my favourite spot on the stream first.”