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One way to restore memory was through pain. Mina had ordered torture used on her prisoners. The dark knights had been experts at it. She had watched men suffer and sometimes die, confident she was doing right, serving a laudable cause—the cause of the One God.

Now she was unsure, uncertain. She was starting to doubt. This morning she had been angry enough that she could have flayed the skin from the monk’s bones and never felt a qualm. On reflection she wondered: Can I torture a man in cold blood? If I did, can I trust information gained by duress?

Galdar had always been dubious about torture as a means to elicit information.

“Men will say anything to stop the pain,” he had once warned her.

Mina knew the truth of that. She was the one in torment, and she would do anything to stop her pain.

There was another way. The dead have no secrets. Not from the Lord of Death.

Putting her hand to the necklace of black pearls, Mina made up her mind. She would tell Chemosh everything. Lay her soul bare to him. He would help her drag the truth out of the monk.

Mina grasped the necklace and tore it from around her neck and tossed it into the sea. Her heart eased, she returned to the castle, dressed herself in something pretty, and went to seek out Chemosh.

She found the Lord of Death in his study, playing khas with Krell. Mina and the death knight exchanged looks that acknowledged their mutual loathing, then Krell went back to studying the board. Mina observed him more closely. He looked the same cruel, boorish brute he always looked, yet there was a sleek smugness about him that she found new and troubling. She also found it troubling that he and her lord seemed quite cozy together. Chemosh was actually laughing at something Krell had been saying as she entered the study.

Mina started to speak, but Chemosh forestalled her. He cast her a negligent glance.

“Did you enjoy your swim, Mistress?”

Her heart trembled. His tone was chill, his words an insult. Mistress! He might have been speaking to a stranger.

“Yes,” Mina replied, and went on quickly before she lost her nerve. “My lord, I must talk with you.” She flicked a glance at Krell. “In private.”

“I am in the middle of a game,” Chemosh returned languidly. “It appears as though Krell might beat me. What do you think, Krell?”

“I have you on the run, my lord,” said the death knight without enthusiasm.

Mina swallowed. “After your game, then, my lord?”

“I am afraid not,” said Chemosh. He reached out and moved a knight, sliding it across the board and using it to knock one of Krell’s pawns to the floor. “I know all about your lover, Mina, so there is no need for you to keep lying to me,”

“Lover?” Mina repeated, astonished. “I do not know what you are talking about, my lord. I have no lover.”

“What about the man you have hidden away in the grotto?” Chemosh asked, and he twisted around in the chair to look her full in face.

Mina trembled. She could think often things to say in her defense, but none of them sounded plausible. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. The hot blood rushed to her cheeks, and she knew in an instant that her flush and her silence had just proclaimed her guilt.

“My lord,” she said desperately, finding her voice. “I can explain—”

“I am not interested in explanations,” Chemosh said coolly, and turned back to his game. “I would slay you for your betrayal, Mistress, but I would then be plagued for eternity by your pitiful ghost. Besides, your death would be a waste of a valuable commodity.”

He did not look at her as he continued to speak, but pondered his next move on the board.

“You are to take command of the Beloved, Mistress. They listen to you, obey you. You have battlefield experience. You are the right commander, therefore, to mold them into an army and ready them to march on Nuitari’s Tower. You will organize the Beloved and take them off to a camp I have established at a remote place far from here.”

The room went dark. The floor tilted, the walls moved. Mina had to grasp hold of a table in order to remain standing.

“Are you banishing me from your presence, my lord?” she asked faintly, barely able to find breath enough to speak the question.

He did not deign to reply.

“I could train them here,” she said.

“That would not be to my liking. I find that I grow weary of the sight of them. And you.”

Mina moved numbly across a floor that lurched and shook beneath her feet. Coming to Chemosh, she sank to her knees at his side and caught hold of his arm.

“My lord, let me explain! I beg you!”

“I told you, Mina, I am in the middle of a game—

“I threw away the pearls!” she cried. “I know I have displeased you. I need to tell you—”

Chemosh removed his arm from her grasp and rearranged the lace she had disturbed. “You will leave tomorrow. This day, you will remain locked in your chamber under guard. I plan to visit your lover this evening, and I do not want you to sneak off to try to warn him.”

Mina was near collapse. Her legs trembled; her hands shook. She was covered in chill sweat. Then Krell made a noise. He chuckled, low and deep. She looked into the fiery, piggy eyes of the death knight, and she saw triumph. She knew then who had spied on her.

Her hatred of Krell gave her the strength to rise to her feet, burned away her tears, and lent her the courage to say, “As you will, my lord.” Chemosh moved another piece. “You have leave to go.” Mina walked out of that room; she had no idea how. She could not see anything. She could not feel anything. She had lost all sensation. She staggered on as far as she could and managed to reach her bedchamber before darkness overcame her and she sank to the floor and lay there like a dead thing.

After she had gone, Krell looked down at the board and realized, to his astonishment, he had won.

The death knight moved a pawn, snatched up the black queen, and carried her off.

“Your king is trapped, my lord,” Krell stated exultantly. “Nowhere to go. The game is mine.”

Chemosh looked at him.

Krell gulped. “Or maybe not. That last move ... I made a mistake. That was an illegal move.” He quickly slid the queen back onto her hex. “I apologize, my lord. I have no idea what I was thinking—”

Chemosh picked up the khas board and flung it in Krell’s face.

“Should you need me, I will be in the Hall of the Souls Passing. Do not let Mina out of your sight! And pick up the pieces,” Chemosh added, as he walked away.

“Yes, my lord,” muttered Ausric Krell.

283

7

The cold of the stone floor roused Mina from her swoon. She was shivering so she could barely stand. Dragging herself to her feet, she wrapped herself in the blanket from her bed and went to stand by the window.

The breeze was moderate. The Blood Sea was quiet. Rolling swells washed over the rocks with barely a splash. Pelicans, flying in formation like a wing of blue dragons, searched for fish. A dolphin’s glistening body broke the surface and glided back down.

She had to talk to Chemosh. She had to make him listen to her. This was a mistake or rather, mischief.

Mina walked to the door of her chamber and found it was not bolted as she had feared it might be. She flung it open.

Ausric Krell stood in front of her.

Mina cast him a scathing glance and started to walk around him.

Krell moved to block her.

Mina was forced to confront him. “Get out of my way.”

“I have my orders,” Krell said, gloating. “You are to remain in your chamber. If you need to occupy your time, I suggest you start packing for your journey. You might want to pack everything you own. You won’t be coming back.”