19. Damon

19

DAMON

D amon has never become so aware of a situation so fast.

He bellows out, "No," sounding like an animal as he staggers to his feet, but he's not right, not himself. His limbs are water, his head is thick and slow, his balance is off. He grabs the dagger from Endrew's chest but stumbles as he does it. He stops himself falling at the last moment, lurching back to his feet, realising he has slipped in Endrew's blood.

He turns. A dozen palace guards are descending on him. Where did they come from?

He barely thinks as he sticks the dagger in the neck of the nearest one.

He hears Lyr's voice, screaming out, "Damon. Damon, don't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't make it worse." Damon looks. Lyr is being dragged from the room.

Before he can react, more palace guards are on him, too many now, forcing him to his knees in numbers he cannot fight. Not like this. The dagger is forced out of his hand by a blow from a sword hilt. There's another sword at his neck.

Endrew is dead. He's lying dead on the floor.

"Your slave will die for this, Bastard," Atticul snarls.

Damon makes a sound of anger in response, words beyond him, but he knows it's true. His mind races. Did Atticul plan this? He can't have. He's not clever enough to be behind something like this.

It's still Atticul's fault. Lyr will die for this and it's Atticul's fault.

Atticul is a dead man. Damon will kill him.

He will…

Damon roars in rage and frustration wrenches free from the men holding him and surges forward. He manages to hit Atticul in the face, hard enough that he goes down. Damon wants to kill him, would kill him, but he is wrestled back by the guards and two of Atticul's personal bodymen. He is forced down to the ground and pinned there with four men on his back.

He glances to the side. He sees Trysta staring at him, from her stance and her expression, he is sure she is preparing to attack. Opeth is next to her, a hand on her arm. He shakes his head at her, a small gesture, but it's all she needs. She takes a half step back.

The wail that goes up next would put the cries of every widow Damon has ever created to shame.

Rafus .

Damon's father, who had been in an alcove with three whores, stumbles over to Endrew's body and drops to his knees. He's half-dressed. His breeches gone, his shirt barely fastened as he falls on his son's body, sobbing, "My boy, my boy. My Sweetpea. My beautiful, innocent Sweetpea." He looks up, face red and tear-streaked. "Who has done this?"

"The bastard's slave," Atticul says, sitting up from the floor where Damon's blow sent him. He nurses his bruised face with a careful hand.

"Who? What?" Rafus looks around. Damon realises his father has no idea what this means. He doesn't know who Lyr is.

Damon says, "Lyr, my slave from Pellex." His voice sounds heavy and slow.

"Where is he?" Rafus spits. "Where is the slave who would dare to do such a thing? I will have him tortured personally until he begs for death." Damon notices his father isn't looking at him. Can't look at him. Rafus gets to his feet shakily. He looks at Atticul. "I am asking you, Atticul. Where he is?"

"I had my men take him to the dungeons, Father," Atticul says. "Do not fear. He will pay for this with his wretched life."

"I will speak to Selim," Rafus fumes. "That filthy Juran wretch will die screaming for this."

Damon swallows. "Please, father—," he begins.

Rafus still won't look at him. Endrew's body looks so small on the floor. "Do not speak to me, Bastard," Rafus snaps, "Do not speak to me you foul child of sin." He shakes his head. "They said you would bring misfortune to me if I took you in. I told them they were wrong."

"Father," Damon says, from the floor, "Let me go with you to Selim, please. I would see justice done in this matter. I am responsible for my slave."

Finally, Rafus does look at him. "Very well. You may come with me. Under guard. Atticul, I will be taking your men to see that Damon is subdued."

"Of course, Father," says Atticul. "I will come too."

Damon is forced to his feet at swordpoint and marched behind Rafus through the corridors of the Rose Palace. Out of the Tower of the Heir and through the wide marble halls to Selim's private quarters. A man at each side of him, a man in front and one behind.

Atticul is with them, walking freely with his father.

Damon can feel the sofi draining from his body, replaced with sharp, awful clarity.

Selim is roused from his bed and meets them in his parlour, a room bedecked in gilded pink marble. Candles glitter in front of wide mirrors. Selim sits on a wide settle upholstered in oxblood leather. Rafus and Atticul stand before him. Damon is put on his knees. He doesn't fight. He feels exhausted.

Atticul tells the story. He insists on using the words Bastard to describe Damon and slave, whore and Juran, to describe Lyr, but he does not embroider the tale. He doesn't need to. Damon brought a dagger to a Pleasure Night. Lyr threatened Atticul with it, then stabbed Endrew. There's nothing Damon can say to change this. Atticul's word would be enough, but if Damon tried to claim anything else, there are plenty of witnesses who would agree with Atticul's version of what happened. It's the truth. The awful truth.

All Damon says when Selim looks to him is, "Lyr is my favoured. He has willingly supplied intelligence to me about the movements of Queen Jareleezi."

Selim narrows his eyes. "You said yourself he had no more information about Jareleezi."

Damon nods. This is true. The statement he made to protect Lyr will condemn him now. He cannot claim Lyr should be kept for information. He is of no more use alive. He nods at Selim. There's nothing he can do now. Nothing he can say. Endrew is dead. Lyr will die. This situation is beyond saving.

"Flog the guards who were on duty at first light," says Selim. "Execute their commander and imprison every whore who was present. The whore who held the blade will face justice tomorrow." He looks up at Damon. He looks deeply sad. "Confine Damon to his quarters. He will have to stand at the Justice as the slave's owner. Where is his sword?"

"The Amber Blade is in my chambers," Damon says.

"The blade must be placed in the royal armoury." At that, Damon sees Atticul smile to himself. He has won and he will have that blade now. The Amber Blade is his birthright. Along with everything in this room.

Atticul has triumphed. Not through his own guileless plotting, but through sheer misadventure. Damon has lost the favour of his father and Emperor Selim. And surely sweetest of all for Atticul's rotten heart, Damon is broken.

Damon is taken back to the Tower of the Heir. He is escorted to his chambers, the Amber Blade is taken and two palace guards remain on the door.

Inez is sleeping, but she wakes when Damon sits down on the bed.

When she asks him what has happened, he can hardly bear to tell her. But he does. He has to. Endrew is dead on a blade held by Lyr, his slave, his dagger. It was not intentional, but that hardly matters.

Inez is pale-faced. "A slave of our household killed a prince? What will become of us?"

"I will not be made Warden of Vashti now. That title was Endrew's. It would be unthinkable to bestow it on me. There will be no gala, no Order of Azuria. And then as Lyr's owner, there will be a heavy fine."

"How much? Will we lose the manor?"

"Possibly. I could be stripped of all my possessions for this." Including you, Damon thinks. What will become of Inez after this? They have no sons. The marriage could be undone. Inez dreams of being the mother of an Emperor. That dream is surely out of reach now.

"Will it be that much?"

"Perhaps. I killed a palace guard." Damon's mind is clearing now. What will they do to him for this? Would it be useful for the Rose Court to be rid of him? "You should leave," he says to Inez.

Inez looks at him wide-eyed. "Why?"

"You should not be here for the justice tomorrow. In case I am implicated. Go now. Go to the stables. Take your handmaidens and the carriage."

"Go where? To the manor?"

"No. Go north to Swen. Stay with your mother and father. I will send for you when I know it is safe. You should not be in Attar now. I will not be able to protect you if things get worse."

Inez does not argue. She understands the situation. She is tied to Damon. If he falls, she falls too. She gathers her things in silence, then goes to the next room to rouse her handmaids. Damon tells his houseguards to go with them too.

The palace guards on the door are only charged with keeping Damon confined. Once they are assured Damon is not going anywhere, they allow Inez and her party to leave without fuss.

And then, Damon is alone.

He does not sleep. He sits in a chair by the window and watches the sky and the dark waters of The Gleam. He thinks of Lyr. Of Lyr's concerns something would happen at the Rose Palace. Of his assertion, Damon would never be made Warden of Vashti .

When the darkness begins to turn to a lighter shade, he remembers something.

Powerful men plot against you, dark is coming for you, and when that darkness swallows you come back to me. There will be a great trial you must face. When it comes, petition me so I can save your life and with it the lives of all Azuria.

He goes to the palace guards at his door.

"I wish to speak to the Immurite."

The guards look at each other. One says, "Master Damon we are bound by oath not to allow you to leave this room until it is time for the Justice."

Damon shakes his head. "The right of a man of royal blood to consult the Immurite is a holy pillar of Zai. You cannot deny me an audience."

The guards look unsure what to do.

"You may accompany me. You have my word of honour as The One Man Army that this is no ruse."

They still seem reluctant, but they agree. The guards walk with Damon through the corridors, silent in the early morning. There are only two of them. Two guards, even unarmed as he is, would not be impossible to overpower. He has done it before.

If he did that, he would have to then make it out of the palace. But he knows this place. He doesn't know all its secrets but he knows some. He could fight these guards, he thinks, as they walk down the stone steps from his chambers in the tower, he could fight and knock them down, steal a weapon from one of them and run. Find one of the old tunnels. The one under the southern hall that leads to a secret garden, or the one in the winery that goes out into the orchards. Or the other one, the one Lukas used to escape, that leads down to the Gleam.

But he cannot consider such a move, because he cannot consider leaving Lyr to his death .

Down through the corridors across the courtyard to the Sarelik Temple and into the chamber of the Immurite. He leaves the guards at the foot of the steps and takes the white stone from the brides. He walks through each of the twelve chambers. There are only a few priestesses present, arranging the day's flowers and offerings to Zai and his twelve prophets. Damon takes a moment to ask for a blessing from the prophet of flame.

When he reaches the sacred chamber of the Immurite he walks in and kneels at the window. The hatch is pulled back a moment later, revealing the iron grill.

"Damon Darekul," says the sweet soft voice of the Immurite.

"Holy Immurite, I seek advice from the hand of Zai to your hand to mine."

"You do," she says, sharply. "And why should I give it when you did not take my advice before?"

"Because I did not send Lyr away?"

"Because you did not resist him."

"I did not. I have lain with him and I have tried to plan a way to take him to my bed forever. I thought I had found a way to make myself safe in my sin."

"But you did not think you could be truly safe with the nature of your heart until you wanted to be safe in order to commit your sins with this slave."

"That is true, yes."

"This slave is special to you?"

"Yes."

"And now you return to my chamber. Are you here to boast of your sins or has something else brought you here, Damon Darekul?"

"I fear I have lost him. My beloved whore has murdered my brother Prince Endrew at a Pleasure Night."

"Did you instruct him to do so? "

"No. It was accidental."

"Your slave was armed at a Pleasure Night?"

"I was armed. He took the blade from me. To protect me. My brother Atticul meant to fight me. I did not need a weapon or the assistance of my slave to protect myself. But I was drugged. My ale cup was tainted with sofi. Endrew was drunk. He fell on the blade. Lyr was caught up in things that he should not have been a part of. He will die for it. It is no fault but my own. I have brought the vengeance of Zai upon myself. I thought having the sanction of the Emperor was enough. But the Emperor is not Zai. Zai was who I sinned against. I now have to suffer Zai's punishment."

"Do you believe last night's horror is the work of Zai?"

"I do not know. Please, holy Immurite, Selim has ordered all the whores who were at the Pleasure Night imprisoned. Trysta is no whore, but she was there. And two of Lyr's friends. Are they safe?"

"I understand those three women cannot be found in the Rose Palace."

Damon feels a small spark of relief. He hopes this is true. He knows Lyr cannot be so easily saved from the wrath of Zai and the justice of the Rose Court, but at least Trysta is safe. Damon takes a breath. "Zai is cruel to punish me by destroying Lyr. He is not sworn to Zai. My sins are not his."

"You wish to know how to save him? Would it not be wiser for you to find a way out of the Rose Palace?"

"I cannot leave him to his fate."

"But surely his fate is sealed."

"There is only one way, I believe. To take that path," Damon swallows. His voice trembles when he says, "It frightens me."

Behind the grill, the Immurite nods her head. She knows what Damon is suggesting. "It frightens you to do the thing you have done before? Another great sacrifice."

"Yes. I will have to give my body. And more to save him."

"A great risk. To your body and your name. The cost will be high. I do not think I can protect you if you choose to do such a thing."

"Have you ever protected me before?" Damon says, his voice something like a soft snarl.

But the Immurite does not seem insulted by this. She says, "I have only ever sought to protect you, Damon Darekul. If you are set on this dangerous path, I will do what I can for your body and your soul. But I would advise you to think again. This path will lead to your ruin."

Damon lets this assertion settle on him like a shroud. "My mind is set," he says, realising that it is. That he will walk this dangerous road. That he cannot avoid it. He takes a breath. "Holy Immurite, you told me I had enemies. Did you mean Atticul, or someone else? Does the Rose Court plot against me? Do people really fear I will become Emperor?"

"You have powerful enemies who have been plotting against you for a long time."

"Can you tell me who they are?"

"I believe you already know."

Before Damon can say anything more, he is startled by a sound. He looks up. Across the chamber, a small hidden door opens. A door Damon has never noticed in all of the many times he has visited the Immurite. The Immurite's hatch closes softly as, through the door, steps the veiled priest, the Hare.

"Master Damon," he says, "please excuse my interruption. I have duties to perform." He carries a tray. On the tray are two cups, a bowl of broth and a piece of bread.

He walks to a small recess in the stone wall of the Immurite's cell and places the tray there. A panel is slid open and the tray is taken by slender, pale hands. Damon startles.

The Immurite's hands.

He has never seen any part of the Immurite's body. It feels like a great sin to see her hands.

The Hare bows as the panel slides shut. Lower down on the wall another recessed panel opens and something is slid out through it. Hare bends and takes up a chamber pot covered with a linen cloth.

Damon says, "You are the attendant of the Immurite?"

"Yes," says the Hare, "I hold that great honour."

There is a pause before the Hare says, "What you plan to do will be difficult."

Damon tenses. "What I plan to do? What would you know of that? Were you listening to my audience with the Immurite?"

The Hare bows his head in deference. "No. I would never. Forgive me, Master Damon, word of what happened at the Pleasure Night has travelled fast in the Rose Palace. And as for knowing what you plan to do about it…" The Hare shrugs his thin shoulders. "There is only one thing you can do, to save him."

"I see," says Damon.

"And it will be difficult."

"I am aware."

"I can help you," says The Hare. "I will be sitting on the bench as Gelen the Green's Officer of Letters."

"And you can ensure it is accepted," says Damon, feeling his guts churn at the thought.

"I can. If you wish it. "

"Very well," says Damon. "I wish it."

A bell rings to signify someone coming into the chamber through the main entrance. It is the guards who escorted Damon. Walking unarmed, holding their white stones behind them. "Master Damon Darekul," says one. "Please come with us, you have been summoned. The Justice will commence in the Hall of Twelve."

The Hall of Twelve is dressed for a formal ceremony. Damon is shown to a seat on one of the low tables. The two guards sit on either side of him. Selim and Rafus appear and take their places at the table on the dais. Rafus looks hollowed out, lost in grief. Atticul too. His thrill at Damon's destruction, replaced by the reality of what happened. Even Atticul is human. He loved his brother.

It hits Damon then, only then, Endrew is dead.

Doroth Zain is seated at one end of the table with several other men of the faith, including the Hare, who arrived after Damon with a huge pile of books.

At the centre, beside Selim, sits Gelen the Green, the Enforcer of Zai. The Soul Protector, second only to Doroth Zain in the faith. Damon feels the dread in his gut churn.

He had hoped he would be able to spend his visit to the Rose Palace without seeing Gelen the Green.

Gelen the Green is a tiny man. Short and bald with a drawn, unshaven face. People say he eats only one small bowl of thin gruel a day, as he believes all sensory indulgence is a sin of the body.

Damon remembers the Hare with his veiled face. As a member of the Order of the Enforcer, perhaps he has to survive on gruel too .

As Damon looks at him, Gelen's eyes meet his. Gelen smiles at him.

When Damon took his father's punishment he had to perform penance under the observance of Gelen the Green.

Before he was allowed to begin his twenty years indentured service he was taken by Gelen to a dark room in the dungeons of the Rose Palace: the cell of penance.

Gelen had made him stand for an age with his arms outstretched as he beseeched Zai to forgive his father. The cell had been freezing cold and Damon had been made to do the penance in only a hip cloth. It had taken him days to recover.

Each of the following five days he had to attend the Immurite, kneel before that metal grill and confess his sins. Her soft voice had been something of a solace to him then. It had been then that he had told her of the desires that, even at that young age, lay heavy on his heart.

Damon murmurs to himself, "Sacred Immurite, most devoted creature in the service of Zai, help me. Give me the will to save him. I will not look on him with lust again if you help me now to do what I must."

As Damon finishes his silent prayer, and as if in answer, Selim stands and makes a formal announcement, "Prince Endrew, the great hero of the royal line has been killed, murdered at a Pleasure Night within the Rose Palace."

This is met with gasps from the throng in the hall, although Damon is certain most of them had heard this news and were here at so early an hour because of it.

Selim continues his pronouncement, saying that the perpetrator will be brought before them and interrogated by Gelen the Green the Soul Protector.

The hall is busy with courtiers. The same people who were here yesterday to celebrate him and Endrew .

Lyr is brought in. Small and scared, dressed only in a hip cloth, all the strange scars and marks on his body on show. With his decorated skin and strange features, he looks so eerie. Damon could almost believe he was a fae creature or some forest imp. He is chained at his wrists, ankles and neck. The chains look too big and heavy for his slender body.

He is made to sit on a small stool below the High Table. Two enforcers stand on either side of him. He looks so vulnerable. Damon's heart aches so acutely he thinks he might cry out from the pain.

Gelen the Green says in a measured tone. "You are Lyr, a Juran whore, a slave of King Ramel. A sly whore. You were brought here to the great city of Attar as a spoil of victory by Damon Darekul, son of Crown Prince Rafus?"

Lyr nods. But then says, "I am not Juran, I am from Klish."

Gelen the Green looks down. He makes a small mark on the parchment in front of him. "I see. Are you a Priam Revolter?"

"No, Sire," says Lyr.

Damon knows this is a pantomime. What difference does that make? The punishment is death.

Gelen says, "You remained loyal to Jur-Mattan despite receiving mercy from Damon Darekul. Prince Endrew, Duke of Vashti, had just led the Imperial Army from Jur-Mattan into Ik-Sundal as its sole high commander. To have survived at the battlefront and then come home only to be murdered is a truly horrendous fate and the perpetrators will suffer for it. When you saw Prince Endrew, you were driven mad by the sight of our own most precious young prince. Son of the heir of Azuria, beloved brother of the heir, second. So you killed him in the most foul manner, at a Pleasure Night."

Damon wonders how long this is going to last, but before Gelen the Green can say more, Rafus stands up. His face is red and mottled from tears. He looks as if he has not slept. Damon does not think he has ever seen his father look so wan.

He wails, only semi-coherent, "My son, my baby, the light of my life." Atticul stands and gently guides Rafus back to his seat.

Gelen the Green continues, "And to have this done by a true child of sin. A sly, Jura-born?—"

"Please," Lyr says, "I told you. I am not Jura-born, I am from Klish. I—" One of the enforcers flanking Lyr slaps his face hard.

Lyr gasps, rocking on the stool.

Damon digs his nails into his palm, forcing himself not to react. He has a plan. It might even work. To carry it out he must be silent. He must sit through this.

Atticul stands. He still has a gentle hand on Rafus's shoulder. He says, "Gelen the Green, noble enforcer of the will of Zai. We must consider the role of Damon Darekul in this tragedy. He brought this whore from Jur-Mattan." Atticul looks at Damon. "Damon wanted that sly whore for his bed. The filthy murderer of my brother is here in Azuria because of a bastard's sinful lust."

Rafus removes Atticul's hand from his shoulder and stands himself. "No, Atticul. My bastard is not on trial."

Atticul looks angrily at his father. "My only brother is dead," he says, half spitting the words. "It must be known to the Rose Court of Azuria that such foul desires brought this filth here."

Selim says, from his seat on the other side of Gelen the Green. "We must attend here to the matter at hand. We have your account of events, Prince Atticul. We have many witnesses who were present at your Pleasure Night. Prince Endrew, Duke of Vashti, a celebrated hero who came to the Rose Palace in triumph is dead. This slave held the blade that killed him. He must be the one punished. The matter is closed and justice is satisfied. The slave will be taken and flogged to death in the Punishment Square. Zai, hold his soul."

Damons stands. It's time.

He holds his head high and the words come to him more easily than they did the last time, when he was coached to say them as a boy of fourteen.

"I wish to claim this punishment and take it in the accused's stead."