“What’s going on?” Surath asks, glaring at me as soon as the door is closed. “I was treated abominably! Fed gruel while you men had meat.”
If her eyes could shoot fire, I’d be crispy right now. I thought the goat and boiled cabbage that Xendus and I were served was bad. Those at the head table, basically my father, the klericks and some of my younger brothers, were served a much better meal.
“And the poor food is the least of the indignities the women here are suffering,” Surath says with fury in her voice.
Xendus wraps his arm protectively over his wife’s shoulders. “Can you explain?” He glares at me.
Shaking my head, I pace toward the fireplace and then turn back. “I have only guesses,” I tell them. “Assumptions. I’ll know more after my audience with the King tomorrow.” An audience with my father. My grandfather must be dead, although no one has confirmed that directly.
“Let’s hear these assumptions,” Surath says, “because something has rotted in your kingdom. Ifwereek of Darkness, as your klericks claim, thenyourpeople reek of tyranny and injustice.”
Defensiveness rankles inside me—she’s talking about my family and the people of my kingdom—but I tamp it down. She’s not wrong.
Pacing across the room and back, I think through the many things that have changed here, digging to find explanations for the most salient. “To begin, it seems my grandfather has died, leaving my father on the throne.”
“And which throne is that?” Xendus growls.
I sigh. I knew my father had expansionist visions, but never imagined he’d act on them. Nor so quickly. I thought his goal was simply to make favorable deals for our kingdom, to hold sway over the other kings so we might have better terms for trade.
“There appears to be an alliance between some of the sovereigns,” I reply. “But I don’t yet know how many other kingdoms are involved.”
“And what of the klericks?” Surath asks. “For how long has this kingdom been a theocracy, controlled by this false religion?”
I lean onto the back of a chair, gripping it tightly to avoid reacting to the word false. I’m no fan of religion, but her tone is insulting.
Although, she’s right about the apparent change in control. The men at court were dressed more like oblates, than lords or knyghts, and the women were all dressed in very modest clothes and kept to the shadows.
“The increased presence of the klericks is new.” Releasing the chair from bondage, I brush my hands down the rough fabric of my trousers. “Khotori culture has always followed the Tenets of Othrix, but not to this extent.”
“It was klericks who seized Saxon,” Surath says, and I nod. Once again, she’s not wrong.
“Has your kingdom always displayed so many images of manticores?” Xendus asks.
“You mean Othrix.” My eyes dart toward the door, hoping no one is listening in. “Not so many, no.”
Surath strides toward the mantel and lifts a small statue, a likeness of Othrix carved into a slab of glass, our deity’s eyes and mane highlighted in gold leaf, and a depiction of the veil carved behind to demonstrate Othrix’s gifts to the Light.
“Thisis yourgod?” Surath says, her tone incredulous.
I nod.
“This is no god,” she says. “This is a simple manticore.”
Defensiveness rises inside me again. I’m no stringent follower of the tenets, but she’s mocking the religion of all those in the Light. If she did so outside this room, she’d be put to death. And that was true even before all the changes here, which clearly include an excess of klerical influence.
I draw a deep breath to calm myself. Doing so makes me think of all that Saxon taught me, how much I owe him, how badly I need this trip to go well so I can gain his freedom.
“Can you tell me more about these manticores?”
Surath stands there, blinking at me as she holds the statue of Othrix toward me.
Xendus moves to her side. “Manticores were a species of superi, now extinct,” he says. “And they certainly were nevergods, simply creatures like any other.”
“Superi, like dragon shifters?”
Surath scoffs. “Manticore were far inferior to dragon-shifters, to most other superi.”
Xendus nods. “Manticores were one of the lesser superi. They held little standing in the Darkness, and while they were long lived, they had few powers.”
