“Prince Lerek is dead.”
CHAPTER NINE
Ormano’s heart thundered in his chest for most of the backbreaking ride back to Metilai.
They had commandeered the ferry to Gall. Horses awaited them at the harbor and Orry was bone tired and heartsick by the time they raced through the gates of the White Palace.
The mood was dark in the courtyard. Soldiers everywhere. He yelped as someone grabbed his arm, the soft flesh instantly yielding to the general’s iron grip. Orry lifted terrified eyes up to the tall man, whose face was like Death. He stumbled along as the general strode to the left of the courtyard, never pausing even as Orry struggled to keep up. By the time they’d reached the doorway leading to the bowels of the palace, Orry was gasping for air.
The dungeons were the worst in the empire for a reason. This was the last stop unless you were one of the lucky few sentenced to death.
From the dark, cold stone walls dripping with water and grime to the rats scurrying between legs and chairs, beneath filthy straw piled in the corners of the cells or inside old tin waste pails, this was a place not concerned with anyone’s well-being.
Ormano fumbled inside his robes until he found the small ball of fabric, lifting the lavender scented kerchief to his nose and stumbledthrough the archway of yet another corridor. He held out one thick hand and accidentally slapped at General Peleon’s back. He mumbled his apologies and smiled wanly back as Peleon’s dark face scowled at him through the gloom. The older man’s frown deepened, but he turned back, proceeding deeper into the disgusting catacombs.
“Well?”
Orry jumped at Peleon’s barked demand.
General Peleon let out a huff and motioned Orry ahead of him. Orry did not need further prodding.
“All he wants is a yes or no,” the general said. Orry’s steps were slow, and he looked everywhere, shrinking more into himself the deeper into the catacombs they went. The darker it became, too, with torches spaced out at longer intervals, the sounds of their steps echoing and empty, adding to Orry’s misery.
“Who, lord?”
“Who?” the general snapped. “Who do you think, you cockroach? The emperor!”
Orry winced and dug the kerchief harder against his face. He closed his eyes and gave a half shake of his head. General Peleon continued to frown.
“The accused?”
The general stopped a few feet behind him and Orry floundered along without light. He stopped and turned, taking a few tentative steps back toward the dim light of the general’s torch, as if waiting for something to pop out and snatch him.
General Peleon lifted the torch in front of his face and the flash of hatred Orry saw on the older man’s features made him cringe back as if he’d been hit in the face.
“She’s in here,” the general sneered.
Orry blinked, his eyes swiveling in the direction he’d indicated. Another black hole, hollow and deep behind thick iron bars. Orry looked back at the general. “She?”
“You can sit out here and question her,” Peleon continued as if Orry hadn’t spoken. He turned and motioned to someone behind him, and a young soldier came forward quickly with a chair. He dropped itat Orry’s feet, the echoing clang shearing across Orry’s already heightened nerves.
Before Orry could nod his thanks, the soldier scurried off. Orry grabbed the chair back with shaky fingers, adjusting it on the ground with great attention and careful consideration.
At last, he sat down—even that process taking exaggeratedly long as he fought to grasp hold of what was happening.
“General, if I may?—”
“Is she a god, yes or no? That is all the emperor requires.” General Peleon turned to leave, then paused. “Do not go inside, whatever the provocation. God or not, she is a trained killer and will snap your neck before she is even aware of who you are.”
Ormano’s hand flew to his throat, and he worked his mouth for several moments. General Peleon turned once more to leave.
“Wait!” Orry shrieked. The sound bounced off the stone and back at him. He winced. He pasted a smile on his face and said, “Lord, I beg you. I do not understand why I was summoned.”
The general frowned. “High Cleric Christos said you are the most learned when it comes to the gods. Are you not?”
Orry laughed, a nervous reflex. “Of course, yes, but?—”
“Then you know why you are here. We have a murderer, at the very least. A god at the worst.” He loomed over Orry, his eyes filled with such loathing, Orry cowered. “And before you render your decision, know that before she was apprehended, no less than five of the Imperial Guard swore to Captain Xoran she used some sort of power on them, as well as Prince Isher, when she tried to kill him. There hasn’t been a god for centuries and the emperor wants it verified because he plans a public execution. So. We await your judgement.”
