Ortalis woke with a start, with his eyes staring, with his heart pounding, with cold sweat all over his body. His father had awakened like that – just like that – a good many times. So had his brother-in-law. Either of them could have told Ortalis exactly why he felt the way he did, exactly what – or rather, whom – he'd been confronting. They could have, yes, but he'd sent the one away and estranged the other. He had to try to figure things out on his own – but he, unlike Lanius, had never been much good at figuring things out.

Limosa stirred beside him. "What's the matter?" she asked muzzily.

"It's nothing. Go back to sleep. Sorry I bothered you," Ortalis answered. "I – I had a bad dream, that's all."

That wasn't all, and he knew it. What he didn't know was how many times his father had told his mother the same things, and how many times his brother-in-law had told his sister. He didn't know they'd been lying each and every time, either. He did know, and know full well, he was lying now.

"Poor dear,'' Limosa muttered, then started to snore again.

Ortalis lay awake a long, long time. Eventually, though, he fell asleep once more, too – a small miracle, though he also did not know that. What he did know when he woke was that the world around him looked better than it had for some time. He had a less highly colored memory now of the country of his dreams.

He drank several cups of wine with breakfast – to fortify myself he thought. Limosa beamed at him. He looked away. He didn't feel like being beamed at, not this morning. After he lifted the Scepter of Mercy, after he held it in his hand, after he showed Lanius and his father (though his father wouldn't be there to see it)… And after I show the Voice, he thought. The Voice, after all, had found him imperfectly wonderful. Therefore he found it imperfectly wonderful as well, and much in need of showing.

His followers – he would not think, let alone say, such a vulgarism as henchmen – were among the officers gathered around the Scepter. They all looked confident. And here came Lanius. Ortalis wondered if he should have Serinus and Gygis and the rest of his – his followers – pack Lanius off to a monastery after the Scepter was his. Maybe the Voice hadn't had such a bad idea there after all.

"Well," Ortalis said lightly, "let's get it over with." No one else even smiled. Other people were much more serious about this… this folderol than he was. It was all foolishness and a waste of time. Ortalis knew that. If his somber subjects didn't, he'd show them by

…

He set his right hand on the Scepter of Mercy. It felt like ordinary metal under his hand – cool and hard, but warming rapidly to his touch. He lifted – or rather, he tried to lift. The Scepter might have held the weight of the world. Ortalis tried to lift again – and, grunting with effort, failed again. Strain as he would, the Scepter of Mercy refused to budge.

"It will not accept him," an officer – one of his men – said, even as he strained. All the guardsmen, even Serinus and Gygis, turned to Lanius and bowed very low. "Your Majesty!" they chorused.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Lanius had been crowned when he was still a little boy. Now, at last, he truly was King of Avornis. No one could tell him what to do, and there were no rival candidates. Ortalis had eliminated the last two, though he'd intended to take out only one.

"Your Majesty!" The officers wasted no time acknowledging him. Serinus, who'd been strongest for Ortalis, bowed almost double. "How may we serve you, Your Majesty?"

"I think you had better lay hold of my brother-in-law," Lanius said reluctantly. They did, not without a scuffle. Lanius eyed his brother-in-law with bemusement. "What shall I do with you?"

Ortalis' reply was colorful but not altogether relevant. Even some of the guardsmen, who used obscenity as a bad cook used salt – too much, and without even thinking about it – seemed impressed. Lanius knew he heard words and combinations he'd never run into before. He tried to remember some of the better ones in case he ever needed them.

When Ortalis ran dry at last – it took a while – Lanius said, "I know what seems fitting. I am going to send you to a monastery, the same way you sent your father to one."

He rapidly discovered Ortalis hadn't used up his store of bad language. Lanius marveled that the table and other fixtures in the Scepter's room didn't catch fire. "And your stinking horse, too!" Ortalis roared.

"That will be enough of that," Lanius said. "Take him to his bedchamber and confine him there."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the guards officers said, and they did. Lanius watched to make sure men he was confident were loyal to him outnumbered the officers who'd cozied up to Ortalis over the past few months. He didn't want his brother-in-law spirited out of the palace, out of the city of Avornis, so he could cause more trouble.

A couple of minutes later, a woman's screams erupted from the direction of the bedchamber. Lanius sighed. Limosa must have discovered that her husband had had what Lanius thought to be the shortest reign in the history of Avornis. He recalled there had once been an arch-hallow who died of joy on learning of his promotion, but no king had ever ruled for only a handful of days.

"How may we serve you, Your Majesty?" asked one of the officers still standing near the Scepter of Mercy.

After a moment's thought, Lanius answered, "Summon Hirundo and Pterocles to the throne room. I will meet them there in half an hour." He paused again, then added, "Pick some soldiers you can rely on and confine Serinus and Gygis in a place where they can't escape and can't communicate with their closest comrades."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Several officers saluted and dashed off to do Lanius' bidding. Was it just that they wanted to make sure to seem loyal? Or was it that, since he could handle the Scepter and Ortalis couldn't, no one doubted he was the only legitimate king? It looked that way to him.

The guards officers who hadn't raced away in one direction or another escorted Lanius to the throne room. Servants bowed or curtsied as they passed him. "Your Majesty!" they murmured. They sounded much more sincere than usual. Had news traveled so fast? One of them said, "Much better you than Ortalis, Your Majesty!" so evidently it had.

After Lanius sat on the Diamond Throne, the men in his escort bowed low. He wondered if they would knock their heads on the floor for him, the way supplicants were said to do at the courts of some of the Menteshe princes. To his relief, they didn't.

Hirundo reached the throne room before Pterocles. He too bowed himself double before Lanius. "Your Majesty!" the general said, and then, "Am I to understand you're His only Majesty right this minute?"

"So it would seem," Lanius answered. "How does that sit with you?"

He tried not to show that he worried about the answer. Hirundo was popular with the soldiers. If he wanted a crown for himself, he had a real chance of taking it. But he said, "Suits me fine. I've always been loyal to the dynasty, and I don't aim to quit now."

"Good. Thank you," Lanius said.

"So Ortalis couldn't make the Scepter work for him, eh?" Hirundo said, and shook his head without waiting for an answer. "Can't tell you I'm very surprised. Never a whole lot of what you'd call mercy in him."

"No, I'm afraid not," Lanius agreed.

"What happens next?" Hirundo asked. "Are you going to bring Grus out of the Maze?"

"I… don't know." Lanius had wondered about that, too. He was saved from saying more when Pterocles came up to the throne and bowed to him. He nodded to the wizard. "Ah. Here you are."

"Here I am indeed, Your Majesty." Pterocles bowed again. "Very much at your service, I might add. I've tried to stay out of the way the past few days – "