“Then if there’s no other business, I suggest we adjourn.”

So saying, Viktor’s father rose to his feet. Even now, Viktor noted, he wouldn’t look him in the eye. He was an embarrassment. Again. It was little consolation that he felt much the same about his sire.

Six

Six

“An outrage!” bellowed Makrov. “I want the perpetrators seized!”

Josiri kept his back to the pacing archimandrite and his attention firmly on the vista beyond the window. In the middle distance, a knot of soldiery wrestled with a body atop Gallows Hill. Muddied scarlet robes – an exact match for those Makrov now wore – shone like blood in the morning sunshine. Even at that distance, straw showed at collar and cuffs.

It seemed Revekah had strayed from her instructions.

Anastacia set her empty wine glass down beside an equally empty bottle. “You mean the Council wants the perpetrators seized, Excellency?”

Josiri winced at the insolence of the words. That would hardly make matters easier.

Makrov halted his pacing. Ice crackled in his tone. “I am not only the Council’s representative; I am Lumestra’s herald. An assault on my person . . .”

“Perhaps your attackers were more interested in the latter than the former?” said Anastacia. “We’ve all heard the stories about how Lumestra’s light shines out of your . . .”

Enough was enough, Josiri decided. He turned his back on the window. “Please. This helps no one.”

He might as well have remained silent. Makrov’s stony gaze remained locked on Anastacia, and hers on him. Her black dress, trimmed with white lace at collar and cuffs, was a perfect match for her straight-backed and cross-legged posture. The very image of a demure young woman, attending her betters. Only the slight turn at the corner of her mouth gave the impression of a cat, biding its time.

“You take a great deal of joy from this matter, demon,” said Makrov. “So much, in fact, that I can’t help but wonder at your involvement.”

“Oh yes.” With a sigh, Anastacia swung her legs up over the arm of the chair, dispelling the ladylike illusion. “I ripped myself free of these stones, tripped merrily through your enchanted wall, evaded the small army at the gates and trotted back here. All without being seen.”

“My lord archimandrite,” Josiri interjected. “You’ve suffered deplorably. I’m only glad that your assailants stopped short of injury. But I can hardly step beyond the walls to investigate, even had I the knack for doing so. And I’ve no doubt Governor Yanda has the matter well in hand.”

Yanda didn’t look like she had the matter well in hand. She stood beneath Katya Trelan’s portrait, about as far from Makrov as possible without implying disrespect.