The first two stones in our wall,' his father said.

Carnelian looked up to his father, a golden obelisk on the dais. He looked back and saw the two ammonites sitting beside each other, each with his trays of beads. In front of them a third was sitting with his back to them. All three wore eyeless silver masks.

Carnelian walked round the dais to take his place as witness at his father's right hand. At his feet facing him was a fourth ammonite. Between them was a low table upon which there was an ink sponge and beside it Carnelian's blood-ring. In front of his father a fifth ammonite sat with a table, ink and Nephron's seal. A little further away knelt a sixth. Carnelian could only wonder what his function might be.

His father turned to him. 'Are you ready, Carnelian?'

Carnelian knelt on his ranga. 'As I can be, my Lord.'

The first Masters that were let in were from one of the highest Houses of the Great. Three of them, filled with pride, come to tell He-who-goes-before that they would support him without condition. More followed, with their heraldry wrought in gems upon their smouldering robes.

These are the towers of our new wall,' his father said as they waited for more.

For those Houses that were rich enough already in blood and iron, flesh and treasure soon ran out. It was then that the negotiations began in earnest. Some Houses wanted gifts, blocks of white jade from the eastern mountains, black pearls that had been found in the sea. Sometimes it would be a piece of porcelain a thousand years old or a half-dozen chrysalises containing butterflies recendy discovered, whose wings spanned a shield but would crumple at the merest touch of breath. Suth as Nephron's proxy promised these rarities from the House of the Masks' fabled treasury. Precisely worded, an agreement would be dictated to the two ammonites with the bead trays who would each quickly thread it onto a silver cord. The two cords would then be put, one into each hand of the ammonite who sat before them. Holding his arms out, this ammonite would quickly pass them through his fingers, presumably to determine they were identical. One cord he would then hand back to be added to the lengthening record of which the clay beads were the beginning. The other would be threaded through a hole in the floor. The Masters would wait, making conversation about the Rains, their hopes for beauty among the children in the flesh tithe, their anticipation of pleasure and distraction in the new season's masques. A piece of rolled parchment would emerge from the floor onto which the beadcord had been transcribed. Suth would read this before passing it to his son. Carnelian would check the glyphs, then return the parchment to his father. It would be rolled out over the table at his father's feet where Nephron's seal would be appended. The seal of Carnelian's own blood-ring would be added next and the document taken by the sixth ammonite for the perusal of the Masters. The negotiation complete, they would exchange formulaic greetings and the Lords would leave and allow the next party to replace them.

The negotiations became ever more intense as the rank of the Houses fell. In the case of a stipulated number of children, the Imperial Power ceded its rights to choose from the flesh tithe first or gave the child freely without exchange. Portions of the imperial revenue from the cities were assigned to the petitioning Houses for fixed periods of years, or a House would gamble, receiving it only for the duration of the next reign. Eyes were covenanted, the iron coins that were equivalent to ichorous blood. Suth confided in Carnelian that they did not have the time to make the complex arrangements in which the House of the Masks ceded rights to a House on the condition that that House should in turn cede rights to other Houses. The sky was already darkening when they began to barter imperial blood. Brides both living and yet to be born were promised from the imperial forbidden house. In some cases the marriage was restricted to a fixed period, in others it would remain in force until a child was produced.

Carnelian had hardly the strength to hold his head up when his father whispered that the doors were closed until the morrow. He managed to rise, and, with care, manoeuvred his father to his chambers.

'It was good,' his father croaked. 'We have built much today. Tomorrow we will try to finish it.'

They parted and Carnelian dragged himself back to his chamber. Tain brought him some food and put him to bed. His brother said nothing and Carnelian had no energy to find words himself.

The following morning, election's eve, Carnelian came into the Sun in Splendour to find his father with Aurum. He watched them for a while. They were alone, speaking with their hands, the slopes of their robes gleaming only on the side that faced the single brazier. Carnelian was reminded of that time long ago on the baran when he had seen them talking about Ykoriana. As he walked towards them, they turned.

'My Lord Carnelian,' said Aurum, inclining his crowned head. The old Master regarded him for a while, making him feel uncomfortable. 'It seems that I am in your debt, my Lord,' he said grudgingly.

'It is nothing, Lord Aurum.'

Aurum smiled coldly. 'A nothing on which the future of both our Houses depends.'

Suth distracted them with his hand. He looked at his son. The Ruling Lord has come to tell me that there are rumours of more defections.'

'Among the subsidiary lineages?' Carnelian asked.

'Ykoriana builds upon the betrayer within your own House,' said Aurum. There was a tone of accusation in his voice.

'My son and I expected this,' said Suth. 'I think this strategy she has chosen could very well be her undoing.' Aurum rose as he straightened his ranga. 'I will see what I can do.' He bowed to each of them in turn. 'My Lords.' He turned and began the journey to the doors.

I dislike being allied to that Lord, Carnelian signed with his hand.

No more than do I, his father replied. But a chameleon will show wisdom by making common cause with a raven when both are being harried by an eagle.

Carnelian nodded and took his place at his father's right hand. Suth lifted and let fall one of his court staves and immediately the hole opened up in the floor before his dais and began to disgorge its ammonites. Before it closed again, Carnelian saw a flicker of light coming up. It reminded him. He looked over to where, concealed by pillars, the trapdoor lay that led down into the ancient halls, the library and Osidian.

The day progressed very much as had the previous one. Later on, Ruling Lords arrived who admitted that they had agreed to vote for Molochite but were uneasy about the promises Ykoriana was making to the lower lineages. Their own third lineage made an appearance. As they offered him their loyalty, Suth remained aloof and only said that they had taken their time. Still, their votes added some more beads to the tally cord.

The agreements passed through Carnelian's hands in a constant waft of parchment. In every case he endeavoured to make sure that the glyphs had caught the words his father spoke. He grew weary, then exhausted, until the glyphs began to swim before his eyes. Still they went on and he marvelled at the reserves of strength the drugs gave his father. Night fell and still they carried on. More and more his father was husbanding his words. When he spoke, it was with visible effort.

The moon had risen before the flood of Masters became a stream and then a trickle. Then there was a heavy pattern of gongings on the door. 'Is that it?' Carnelian asked.

His father let out a long, long sigh. 'Yes. I must rest… a while.' Carnelian watched his father sag and waited, glad beyond measure that the election was almost upon them. Win or lose, he wanted to take his father home.

Suth roused himself and turned a little to catch Carnelian in his eye. 'Mask yourself.' Carnelian did so and watched with what painful care his father lifted his own mask to his face before he said, 'Ammonites, see again.'