They have slain Raddic and Carlon—we have three guardsmen, a Bishop and an Earl—Now we need only be butchers! Evyan, Evyan, warrior Queen, this is your victory!

diomes of leukas roared and jumped across the frontier. Futile, futile, he was doomed to darkness. Evyan’s lithe form moved up against aracles, her sword flamed and the Earl crashed at her feet. Her voice was another leaping brand: “Defend yourself, King!”

Turning, Rogard grew aware that mikillati himself had been right beside him. There was a Barrier between the two men—but mikillati had to retreat from Evyan, and he took one step forward and sideways. Peering into his face, Rogard felt a sudden coldness. There was no defeat there, it was craft and knowledge and an unbending steel will—what was leukas planning?

Evyan tossed her head, and the wind fluttered the lock of hair like a rebel banner. “We have them, Rogard!” she cried.

Far and faint, through the noise and confusion of battle, Cinnabar’s bugles sounded the command of her King. Peering into the haze, Rogard saw that Flambard was taking precautions. Sir theutas was still a menace, where he stood beside sorkas. Sir Cupran of Cinnabar flew heavily over to land in front of the Queen’s Earl’s guardsman, covering the route theutas must follow to endanger Flambard.

Wise, but—Rogard looked again at mikillati’s chill white face, and it was as if a breath of cold blew through him. Suddenly he wondered why they fought. For victory, yes, for mastery over the world—but when the battle had been won, what then?

He couldn’t think past that moment. His mind recoiled in horror he could not name. In that instant he knew icily that this was not the first war in the world, there had been others before, and there would be others again. Victory is death.

But Evyan, glorious Evyan, she could not die. She would reign over all the world and—

Steel blazed in Cinnabar. merkon of leukas came surging forth, one tigerish leap which brought him down on Ocher’s guardsman. The soldier screamed, once, as he fell under the trampling, tearing hoofs, but it was lost in the shout of the leukan Knight: “Defend yourself, Flambard! Defend yourself !”

Rogard gasped. It was like a blow in the belly. He had stood triumphant over the world, and now all in one swoop it was brought toppling about him. theutas shook his lance, sorkas his mace, diomes raised a bull’s bellow—somehow, incredibly somehow, the warriors of leukas had entered Cinnabar and were thundering at the King’s own citadel.

“No, no—” Looking down the long empty row of squares, Rogard saw that Evyan was weeping. He wanted to run to her, hold her close and shield her against the falling world, but the Barriers were around him. He could not stir from his square, he could only watch.

Flambard cursed lividly and retreated into his Queen’s home. His men gave a shout and clashed their arms—there was still a chance!

No, not while the Law bound men, thought Rogard, not while the Barriers held. Victory was ashen, and victory and defeat alike were darkness.