No.
‘You pledged whatever aid the empire deemed necessary,’ he said. ‘As the emperor’s representative in these lands, I require public acknowledgement of that pledge.’
At the bottom of the stairs Achim stepped forward, his drab brown robes stark among the white and bloodied clothing of the Turasi and Iltheans. Lifting a hand, he breathed a single word I didn’t hear.
I jerked up as if someone else had control of my limbs. A strange power surged through me, forcing me to step towards Sidonius, then my knees dropped with a thump that jarred my teeth. A weight bent my head down until I bared my neck like a humbled dog.
I clenched my teeth, choking back the words. Time. I just needed more time! But there was no time. Sepp stood huddled by Achim’s side, spent. Roshi sat in a tent she would never leave, should Sidonius die. Both their lives hung in the balance, and I had no more time or opportunity.
You do not have what it takes, Matilde.
Squeezing my eyes shut, the oath tumbled from numb lips: ‘I, Matilde of house Svanaten, Duethin of the Turasi, do pledge fealty to the Ilthean emperor,’ I said, my voice ringing through the chamber. ‘I acknowledge and accept Ilthea’s sovereignty for myself, and those sworn to me.’
Tears scalded my eyes but the pledge bound my muscles tight. I riffled through my mind for an addition, an ambiguity I could work into the vow. The words that escaped me were the exact opposite: ‘Until death release me.’
‘On behalf of Ilthea, I accept your vow,’ Sidonius intoned, touching the top of my bowed head with his hand.
It was done. My promise – or Achim – released me and I stood, legs shaking.
The Turasi in the room stared daggers at me. I might be Duethin, I read in their gaze, but without an Ilthean escort I would be dead before the day was out.
I had guided my country and her people into the snake’s pit. Until death release me.
Now I must guide them out.
Acknowledgements
One year and five days ago, I received a phone call that set in motion the process which saw me acquire an editor and an agent and a two-book deal in the space of a week. That sounds fast, but it’s been a long journey to this, my first published novel, and I owe many people a great deal.
My Clarion South classmates, tutors, and convenors – otherwise known as the voices in my head – taught me so much about writing I’m still trying to remember and sort through it all: Nathan Burrage, Mark Barnes, Nike Bourke, Emma Munroe, Anne mok, Tessa kum, Trevor stafford, Lily chrywenstrom, shane Jiraiya cummings, suzanne church, susan Wardle, Kenrick Yoshida, evan Dean, ellen klages, Alison Chan, Rjurik Davidson, Sean Williams, michael swanwick, ellen Datlow, margo Lanagan, ian irvine, Scott Westerfeld, kate eltham, Robert hoge, Heather Gent and Bob Dobson.
Many people read all or some of the manuscript in its early stages, and helped me whip the starveling threads of narrative into a story: Ben Bastian, Anne Mok, Becky Keft, Nike Bourke, Ian Irvine, Rachel Holker, Liz Adkins and Tessa Kum. I am especially grateful to Tessa for her boundless enthusiasm, and for her amazing trick of driving to the heart of the story and telling me what isn’t working in a way that always gave me the energy to tackle yet one more revision.
To Sean Williams, Nike Bourke and Ian Irvine, my thanks for guiding me through the process of garnering an agent after selling a book, instead of the other way around, and my particular thanks for pretending that my nervous panicky wibbling at the time was entirely natural behaviour.
The editorial and design team at Allen & Unwin have shepherded this book – and me – through the publishing process with aplomb. For their eagle-eyed scrutiny of every word, comma and apostrophe, I thank all my editors and proofreaders, and I’m particularly grateful for their eternally patient and tactful manner in pointing out to me that ‘This word? It doesn’t mean what you think it means.’
My invaluable agent, Tara Wynne, always knew what I needed to be doing when I didn’t, which was most of the time.
Thanks must also go to Les Petersen, for knowing what the cover needed far better than I could ever put into words, and producing the marvellous artwork adorning this book’s cover.
I was lucky to have such good editors as Angela Handley and Louise Thurtell, who both pushed this book to be the absolute best it could be, and who both included me every step of the process. My especial thanks to Louise, for instituting the Friday Pitch which saw this book picked up out of the slush pile, and for those wondrous notes she included with every revision pass.
Last but by no means least, to my family, for never once doubting.
Deborah Kalin