was screaming, but someone put a hand over her mouth, and numerous men were restraining her.
“So you see, even if we believe that Kaede wasn’t incestuous in her sluttish trysts in our nation’s very heart, we know that she married Sijuron Tofusin. A marriage null and void because she was already married—to the emperor’s brother!”
Oshobi painted a sad look on his face. “I woke this morning, willing to dishonor my family because I wanted to do what was right for our country—”
Behind Solon, the door creaked open. He turned away from the courtyard to see his two guards enter. “All right,” the paunchy one said, “we already let you see more of the show than we was supposed to. You can figure how it turns out from here. You ready?”
“Yes,” Solon said. He drew in his Talent. “Which of you would like to die first?”
“Huh?” they asked in unison.
“Together then,” he said, and stilled their hearts with his Talent.
The guards collapsed, one crumpling, the other falling full on his face. Solon took a sword and faced the barred window.
With a concussion that rocked the castle, Solon blew out the entire wall. Stones rained on the crowd fifty paces away. Everyone ducked and turned to see what had happened. And Dorian always said I wasn’t subtle.
Solon jumped down lightly and strode toward the crowd. A guard stepped in his path, wide-eyed and gulping. Solon gestured as if shooing a fly and a wall of air flipped the guard aside.
“I am Solonariwan Tofusin, son of Emperor Cresus Tofusin, Light of the West, Protector of the Isles, and High Admiral of the Royal Fleets of Seth.” It was a deliberately ambiguous construction, whether he was listing his father’s titles, or claiming them for himself. “I have come home, and I call you a traitor and a liar, Oshibi. And even if your despicable lies were true, you have no claim to this throne while I live.”
“We can remedy that,” Oshobi snarled.
Solon advanced quickly onto the platform, not giving Oshobi time to think. “You would duel me?” Solon asked. He laughed scornfully. “A Tofusin does not dirty his hands with the blood of a dog.”
Oshobi roared, drew his sword and hacked at Solon with all his considerable strength. Solon deflected it. His counterstroke cut halfway into Oshobi’s neck. Oshobi’s eyes went big, but he tried to complete one more slash while Solon’s sword was stuck. A sliver of magic enervated Oshobi’s fingers. The sword dropped.
“However,” Solon said, “I’ll make an exception for a Little Cat.” He ripped the sword out of Oshobi’s neck and blood sprayed over the platform as the big man dropped onto his face. Solon put his foot on the neck of his dying foe and pointed the sword at the nobles holding Kaede. “That’s your empress,” Solon said. “I’d advise you to take your hands off her.”
60
After riding most of the night, Kylar camped a short distance off the road, merely unsaddling Tribe and throwing a blanket on the ground. A few hours later, Tribe’s snort woke him. Kylar blinked and rolled to his feet.
“So you haven’t forgotten everything I taught you,” a brown-clad figure said, leading his horse to tie it next to Tribe.
“Master?” Kylar asked.
Dehvirahaman ko Bruhmaeziwakazari snorted. It was odd to hear the sound, so characteristically Durzo, coming out of the Ymmuri’s mouth. He glanced at Retribution in Kylar’s hand. “Good, I see you haven’t managed to lose it again, yet. See that you don’t, would you? You ready to ride?”
Kylar felt an odd excitement. He did feel ready to ride. The overflow of energy from his invocation of immortality hadn’t worn off yet. “I’m not dreaming this, am I?” he asked.
Dehvi lifted an eyebrow. “There’s one way to find out for sure,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Go piss in the woods. If you feel wet and warm afterward, wake up.”
Laughing, Kylar went and relieved himself. When he came back, Dehvi was seated cross-legged and had laid out a huge, albeit cold, breakfast.
Kylar tore into the food with gusto that surprised himself, though apparently not Dehvi. The scene still had an air of unreality, though, and Kylar kept glancing at him. Finally, the Ymmuri said, “If you’re looking for Durzo’s mannerisms, you’re going to see fewer and fewer of them. I don’t chew garlic anymore, for one. And I’m getting rid of the rest as fast as I can. A new face isn’t much good if you still do everything else the same. I have done this a few