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  Fonnash stood up, saluted again and gratefully left the office.

  Lanndra got up from his desk and paced to and fro for a long time, formulating a plan of attack.

  9

  23rd day of Spring, 902 XE

  Bannskar’s Palace, Zarr, Xunna

  On the tenth day after his father’s funeral Jaddra was crowned FirstLord in a long and lavish public ceremony in the Square of the Gods. This was followed by a Xunnland-wide programme of celebration lasting five days.

  Over 4,000 members of the Great Families, like a swarm of splendidly dressed locusts, descended on Bannskar’s Palace for the coronation feast, determined to make the most of this unique opportunity to over-indulge at someone else’s expense.

  Jaddra enjoyed a good party as much as the next man, but by the third day he was weary of it. With relief he watched on the fifth day as the last of his inebriated and flatulent guests were politely but firmly ejected from the palace by the household servants. The nobility spent the next two days sobering up in preparation for the first Supreme Council Meeting of Jaddra’s reign.

  In the past, these Meetings had always involved a great deal of traditional pomp and ritual. Jaddra had decided to dispense with all of that nonsense – partly because it was a tedious waste of time, and also because it was too closely associated with the State Religion.

  So, on the day of the Meeting, Jaddra entered the hushed Hall of Council with the bare minimum of fuss, accompanied by Parrja Dassan, Hannsto Vallmar and five Bodyguards. Jaddra wore a plain uniform of FirstLord’s Scarlet – no gold trim, no waist-length cape, no peaked cap. His unspoken message was: “This is just a business meeting – so let’s get on with it!”

  The 100 Councillors, standing around an enormous U-shaped table, bowed solemnly to their new FirstLord. He casually seated himself upon the huge solid-gold gem-encrusted chair that faced the table. This was the Xunnland’s ancient Throne of Crowns, made from the captured crowns of many conquered kings. Meanwhile Dassan stood at Jaddra’s right hand and the Bodyguards lined up on either side of the Throne, hands folded behind their backs.

  As Overseer of the Civil Command, Dassan was also Chairman of the Council and so would be presiding over today’s proceedings. Respecting Jaddra’s wishes, he omitted the usual formalities and simply announced: “This Meeting of the Supreme Council of the Xunnland is now in session.” Then he sat down upon an ornate chair next to Jaddra.

  The Councillors, somewhat disconcerted by this straightforward style, seated themselves around the table.

  For a moment Jaddra surveyed the impressive scene before him. All of the Xunnland’s most powerful people were gathered in this room today: the Overseers of the Four Commands, the Governors of the Free Territories, the High Priests of the State Religion, the Overlords of the Great Families, the Marshals of the Armies, and numerous other dignitaries.

  Jaddra’s most important ally among the Councillors was, of course, Dassan, who wielded immense power as the Xunnland’s most senior civil servant. Many other progressively minded Councillors would also support Jaddra’s reforms. But WarMaker Lanndra and his conservative faction would doubtless go to great lengths to oppose them.

  Since tradition required that the FirstLord should be the first to speak, Jaddra now addressed the Council. His voice was amplified by the Yevv system, so that every Councillor heard him as if he were sitting right next to them.

  “Honourable Councillors,” he began, “today I wish to present to you an outline of my policies for the first five years of my reign.”

  He pressed a key on his Yevv, and a list of headings appeared on the Councillors’ virtual screens.

  “First and foremost,” continued Jaddra, highlighting the first item on the list, “I wish to improve the international situation. For centuries our world has been divided into two fiercely hostile power-blocs. Back in the days when the Xunnland and the Far South were armed only with swords and spears, or muskets and cannon, we could allow a state of continual low-level warfare to exist, without running the risk of global catastrophe. But now that we have nuclear and biological weapons, that ancient hostility is too dangerous to be tolerated. So I have decided that the Supreme Government will take steps to cultivate better relations with the Far Southern states.

  “My second aim is to correct the regional imbalances within the Xunnland. In the past Xunna has enjoyed a privileged position. In future the needs of the other Free Territories will be given equal priority.

  “My third objective is to improve the lot of the enslaved peoples. Presently they live in a state of near-starvation. I hereby decree the abolition of the Produce Tax, whereby the Supreme Government annually takes 30 per cent of all food production in the Slave Territories.

  “My final aim is to establish religious freedom within the Xunnland. Our people will no longer be required by law to practise the State Religion. I hereby decree that they are free to embrace any religion they wish, provided that it is not a threat to public order.”

  Jaddra also had another major project in mind: to reduce the power and privileges of the Great Families and to redistribute some of their enormous wealth in favour of the ordinary Xunnish people, most of whom owned no land and lived in overcrowded crime-infested cities. However, since this policy would be even more controversial than the four he had just announced, he thought it best to keep it under wraps for the time being.

  “I will now hear any comments the honourable Councillors may wish to make,” he said in conclusion.

  There! he thought. It’s done. Now you all know what kind of FirstLord I am. Now you must all choose. Will you work with me, or with Lanndra?

  A lengthy debate followed. Since to disagree directly with the FirstLord would be regarded as treason, those Councillors who disapproved of Jaddra’s policies now expressed their misgivings in carefully coded terms, merely emphasizing the practical problems that would be encountered.

  On the other hand, those who agreed with his policies now made the most of the opportunity to publicly say what they really thought. Throughout Ammzal’s reign they had been obliged to remain silent, as the reformist agenda had been consistently thwarted. Now they praised Jaddra for the boldness of his plans.

  As custom dictated, Jaddra himself stayed out of the discussion, since it was not considered fitting for the FirstLord to engage in argument about his own policies.

  For an hour or so the WarMaker said nothing. Apparently he too thought it beneath his dignity to become involved in mere debate. But while his voice was silent, his body language was eloquently angry. He viewed all of Jaddra’s proposed reforms as unnecessary and dangerous meddlings with the established order – an order which had given the Xunnland stability and strength for centuries.

  Finally he stood and bowed to Jaddra, thereby indicating that he wished to address the FirstLord directly. With a nod of his head Jaddra granted him permission to speak.

  “Might I be allowed to ask you a question, my Lord?” enquired the WarMaker.

  Detecting menace in Lanndra’s voice, reluctantly Jaddra nodded again.

  “My Lord, you have decreed that your subjects will in future be allowed to practise whichever faith they choose, if our time-honoured State Religion is not to their taste …”

  He paused for a moment, then asked his question, which shot across the Hall of Council like a heat-seeking hunter-bomb:

  “My Lord, do you yourself worship the Varrdish deity?”

  An astonished silence fell upon the Meeting. The Councillors couldn’t believe their ears. How could the WarMaker dare to ask such an offensive question? It was unthinkable that the FirstLord could be a Heretic!

  Jaddra too was shocked. He had intended to keep his faith secret until his position as FirstLord was more firmly established. How had Lanndra found out about it?

  For a long moment Jaddra hesitated, unsure how to respond. Then, rising to the WarMaker’s challenge, he calmly admitted, “Yes, I am indeed a Follower of the Anthall.”

&
nbsp; There were gasps of horrified amazement among the Councillors.

  Having scored a direct hit, Lanndra sat down with an expression of grim satisfaction on his face.

  But immediately Parrja Dassan stood up and boldly declared, “I too am a Follower!”

  Encouraged by his example, four more Councillors likewise stood and confessed their belief in the Anthall.

  The other Councillors were thrown into a state of confusion by these startling revelations, and the Meeting disintegrated into a frantic hubbub as they conferred together in agitated twos and threes.

  It was plain to see that there would be no further discussion of Jaddra’s reform programme that day. The WarMaker had skilfully precipitated a constitutional crisis so grave that everything else paled into insignificance.

  Jaddra stood up, and the Hall fell silent. All eyes were upon him. “Honourable Councillors,” he said with a sigh of regret, “in the circumstances I think it’s best that this Meeting should now be terminated. This Council will meet again in 30 days.”

  Without further ado he left the Hall, followed by Dassan and the Bodyguards. The WarMaker departed triumphantly a few moments later, accompanied by an obedient squad of his closest allies. Then the other Councillors filed out of the Hall, stunned by the discovery that the FirstLord himself had rejected the State Religion.

  One thing was certain: the next few days would see some hectic behind-the-scenes politicking in the Xunnland’s capital.

  10

  23rd day of Spring, 902 XE

  Bannskar’s Palace, Zarr, Xunna

  “My Lord, it’s evidently Lanndra’s intention to weaken your authority, or even to dethrone you,” remarked a frowning Dassan as he and Jaddra made their way through the long dingy corridors of Bannskar’s Palace towards its skyzone. “But I promise you, Lanndra won’t win this battle! I’m going to work night and day to protect your position.”

  Although shaken by the events that had just transpired in the Hall of Council, Jaddra was encouraged by his friend’s steely determination. Dassan was, after all, a political tactician of the very highest calibre. If anyone could sort out this mess, it was surely him.

  “I know you will, Parrja,” replied Jaddra. “Thank you, my friend. I’ll leave this matter in your capable hands – and in the hands of the Anthall.”

  The two men then parted. With Hannsto and the Bodyguards, Jaddra boarded his private Z-Field ship and returned to the Island Palace, hoping to ease the day’s stresses with the help of a bottle of Krallish red wine.

  However, he had reckoned without his wife’s anger.

  When he entered their private apartment, Leenesh was waiting for him, simmering with rage, the wild disarray of her long dark-red hair accurately expressing her mood.

  “How could you be so stupid?!” she demanded. Apparently she had heard the news from the Hall of Council. Dressed in a loose-fitting one-piece lounge-suit the same colour as her glorious hair, she stood defiantly with her feet apart, fists on her shapely hips. “Why did you have to publicly own up to your crazy religious beliefs?!”

  “The WarMaker left me no choice,” he replied, stung by the harshness of her tone. “He came straight out with it and asked me whether I was a Follower of the Anthall. I couldn’t lie about it, could I?”

  She just shook her head in disbelief. “I’ve never understood your religion, Jadd,” she said. “It’s so … so un-Xunnish! Can’t you see it’s undermining your position as FirstLord?”

  He went to a window and gazed out at the palace gardens. “Lee, I never planned to become a Follower. But when the Anthall made himself known to me … I just had to follow him. I couldn’t turn away from the most important truth in my life!”

  “I don’t want to hear about it!” she snapped. “I’ve heard it all before!”

  There was a long, tense silence between them.

  Then she added, “Do you know what bothers me most about all this?”

  He heard the pain in her voice, and turned around to look at her face. Tears were forming in her beautiful golden-brown eyes.

  “This religion of yours drives a wedge between us,” she said. “It’s a part of your life I can’t share!”

  He went to her and enfolded her in a big warm hug. More than anything, he wished she could share his faith. Knowing that she felt excluded pained him deeply.

  At first she resisted his embrace, but then she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his broad chest.

  “Jadd,” she said with a sigh, “sometimes I think you’re slightly mad.”

  He smiled, kissing the top of her head, the flower-scent of her hair in his nostrils. “But you love me anyway.”

  “You should thank your Anthall for that!” she murmured.

  “I do, Lee. I really do.”

  11

  35th day of Spring, 902 XE

  MilCom Headquarters, Zarr, Xunna

  Deep in the heart of Military Command Headquarters, hidden from the growing light of dawn, Yasstan Lanndra paced to and fro in his private office, fretting over recent events.

  In the twelve days since the Supreme Council Meeting, he had worked hard to whip up outrage among the Councillors over Jaddra’s rejection of the State Religion, but the results had been disappointing. Lanndra had the full backing of a minority within the Council, but the majority of the 100-strong membership, having only a half-hearted belief in the traditional faith, were prepared to accept Jaddra’s apostasy. They could see that it might cause a few political difficulties, but surely these could be overcome, they argued.

  Neither were they greatly disturbed by the fact that, in worshipping the Varrdish deity, Jaddra had broken Xunnland law, since the FirstLords and their Heirs had always been, in effect, above the law. In any case, when all was said and done, Jaddra was the FirstLord Ammzal’s chosen successor, so they were not prepared to challenge his right to rule. They had no wish to plunge the Xunnland into political confusion and, possibly, civil war.

  Lanndra was determined to stop Jaddra’s insane reforms, but he now realized he would not be able to achieve this through the Council, which was filled with complacent, irreligious fools. Therefore extreme measures were now required.

  His allies wouldn’t like what he had in mind, but Lanndra knew he could make them fall into line. He would speak secretly to all of them and secure their support. He had already invited two of them to a clandestine meeting at MilCom Headquarters. They would be arriving in just a few minutes …

  *

  Zennev Hennat, High Priestess of Tezzett, felt uneasy as she approached MilCom Headquarters, the nerve-centre of WarMaker Lanndra’s all-encompassing web of power. She had been here several times before, but it was still an intimidating place to visit. So many people had disappeared without trace here. In theory, she and Lanndra were allies, but she would never make the mistake of trusting him.

  With Hennat in the big blue Z-Field car were four young priestesses trained in the martial arts of the Order of Tezzett. The presence of these athletic warrior-women made her feel more secure. In a hand-to-hand fight they would be a match even for the WarMaker’s best men.

  The computer-driven car stopped at a checkpoint. One of Hennat’s women handed over a security chip to an Invincible officer. Having checked it in his Yevv, he handed it back with a respectful bow and pressed a big green button on the control panel beside the robust steel gate that blocked the road.

  With a well-lubricated rumble the gate rolled aside and the car moved on into a brightly lit spiral concrete-walled tunnel that took them to a spacious subterranean parking area. “You have arrived at your destination,” said the feminine voice of the computer as the car slowed to a stop.

  Another officer approached the car, opened the door for Hennat and bowed to her. She gracefully got out of the vehicle and looked about her with the air of one taking command. Her four guards quickly took up positions close behind her.

  All five women wore loose-fitting deep-blue uniforms with sho
rt capes of the same colour. Their long red hair was gripped at the nape of the neck by golden clasps bearing the traditional logo of their Order – a thorny rose. Hennat also wore a large oval platinum torc upon her fulsome chest – the High Priestess’s badge of office.

  “Revered Lady,” said the officer, “the WarMaker awaits you. Please follow me.”

  He led the way into a broad corridor. The eyes of the military men all around them followed the five priestesses, who, like all members of their Order, had been chosen for their beauty. Hennat herself was especially striking, with red hair so dark as to be almost black, a tall curvaceous physique and big copper-gold eyes that seemed to read the soul of any man they scrutinized.

  They passed through an armour-plated doorway and got into an elevator that rapidly took them down into the deepest bowels of MilCom Headquarters. Having marched down a long well-lit corridor, they came to another massive armoured door. The officer typed in a password on a keypad, the door slid aside, and they entered the WarMaker’s private rooms, crossing a luxuriously carpeted lobby.

  The officer stood to attention beside an open doorway and announced, “The Revered High Priestess Zennev Hennat of the Order of Tezzett.”

  Hennat and her guards entered a large richly furnished conference room where the WarMaker was awaiting her arrival. Also present was Thrannaz Sheenor, High Priest of Karrda. Lanndra and Sheenor stood up and bowed to her, and she curtsied to them.

  She respected Lanndra, the power-hungry militarist and statesman. For the fat, greedy Sheenor she felt only contempt.

  “Thank you for coming, High Priestess,” said the WarMaker, his manner polite but stiff. Glancing at the four warrior-priestesses, he added, “I assure you, you’ll be perfectly safe here. Your guards may wait in the lobby, if you wish.”

  Hennat knew it would be unwise to let even her most trusted women hear the things that would be said at this meeting. “Wait for me outside,” she told them.