Susan was sensible. It was, she knew, a major character flaw. -- Terry Pratchett, Thief of Time

Qihadal learnt the news only minutes before the rest of the empire did. Amidst the shock there was a cold realisation of what this meant for her. Carann was now at war with Malish, and its empress was a Malishese woman. She would go from being tolerated to being despised in mere seconds. The world of fashion, the world she had tried so hard to conquer, would want nothing to do with her.

What should she do? Leaving the capital would seem like running away. With Tinuviel and Nadriet in Risingau Palace, she was the only one of the royal family in Esergot. Unless you counted Prince Gialma and a few distant cousins, of course, but they weren't as well known to the general population as she was.

She couldn't leave. She didn't know if she could face staying. She felt as if every possible option led only to ruin and misery.

Over the next few days Qihadal watched her fears come true. People who had been polite and even friendly to her turned cold and distant. Suspicious eyes watched her every move. People spoke to her only because it was expected of them.

Prince Gialma was the only person whose behaviour towards her didn't change. He was conspicuous by his absence at all society events for almost a week. She began to think he had stopped attending such events. But then one day she saw him again, at a fête organised to support one of the city's hospitals.

Outside the world of fashion the army was preparing for war, battle plans were being drawn up, supplies were being stockpiled, and everyone was waiting for someone else to make the first move. Emperor Tinuviel and the army generals were conferring on how best to win the war quickly. Large numbers of young men and women were joining the army and being put through hurried training. But the world of fashion refused to openly acknowledge anything as unfashionable as a war. It went on with its banquets and galas and balls as if all was well with the world.

Qihadal could not refuse to attend without making herself even more unpopular than she had become. At least this particular event was supporting a good cause. She thought grimly that hospitals would soon be crowded. They needed all the support they could get.

She didn't notice Prince Gialma until she almost walked into him. The stalls were set up so they created most impractical sudden corners, and their walls prevented anyone from seeing around the corners until they'd turned them. Of course, when they turned them it was generally too late to avoid anyone who happened to be coming towards them. Whoever planned the layout had a great deal to answer for.

Gialma and Qihadal were luckier than some people. The empress turned a corner, found herself suddenly face to face with the prince, and both of them quickly swerved to avoid a collision. Qihadal's ladies-in-waiting had to stop very suddenly. It would have been amusing if it hadn't been so unexpected.

"Good afternoon, your Majesty," the prince said once he'd recovered from the shock. "I didn't... expect to see you. So suddenly."

"No," Qihadal said, still more than slightly surprised. "I didn't expect to see you here at all."

The words were hardly out of her mouth when she realised they sounded harsher than she intended. The prince either didn't notice or didn't let her see he'd noticed.

"I'm going back to Zenda[1] tomorrow," he said. Amazingly he barely stumbled over a single word. "My brother is going to join the army. I want to buy him an izenlee present[2]."

The rest of their conversation was very short and only about mundane subjects. Gialma didn't say when, or if, he would return. Qihadal didn't ask. Neither directly mentioned the war. Yet it cast a grim shadow over both of them. Then the prince left, and Qihadal moved on to look at the wares for sale at another of the stalls.

For some reason she didn't understand and didn't think about too deeply, Qihadal felt oddly depressed at the news that one of the few people she considered a friend was leaving the capital. Most people would feel some sadness at this. But Qihadal had a vague sense that what she felt wasn't quite the normal sort of sadness. Still, she could derive some bitter, not particularly comforting sort of comfort from how he had spoken to her exactly as he always did.

~~~~

It turned out Kilan didn't have to try to forget what Death told him about Linyie. He had so many things to think of that it was driven completely out of his mind. Most importantly, there were the generals of his army. Like so many people in the empire, they had apparently gained their position solely through being utterly unsuited to it.

"This plan is most irregular," one of them, General Ingyan, grumbled when Kilan told them about the plan Varan had drawn up -- though he was careful to give the impression it was his and Qihadal's plan, and never mentioned Varan even in passing. "It's impractical and expensive. Your Majesty, you should have asked us to think of a battle plan."

Yes, I should have, Kilan thought sarcastically. You're doing such a magnificent job. Malish might attack at any minute and all the generals care about is arguing over who has seniority. Truly a fact that inspires confidence.

"I think the plan is practical," General Migauth said. "No one in Malish will expect it."

"You haven't given me a chance to fully explain it," Kilan said with a scowl. "The army will cross the border here." He jabbed his finger at the map spread out on the table. "Everything here--" he gestured to a circle drawn around part of Malish, "--is mostly uninhabited farmland. No one will see the army as they go through there. And if the Malishese army has the same idea, our army will spot them from miles away. The river here is used all year round. Steal boats, fly Malishese flags, avoid getting too close to other boats, and no one will notice anything unusual."

General Ujimyar shook her head. "Far too many things could go wrong. If the river is crowded, how would our soldiers avoid being noticed? We don't exactly blend in among the Malishese."

True. Neither Kilan nor Varan had thought of that. He could have kicked himself for that oversight. It was so obvious! How could they ever have missed it?

Death stayed in the shadows of the study they had turned into a council of war, invisible to everyone but Kilan. Until now she had been content to listen in silence. Now she spoke up.

"In summer most Malishese fishermen wear cloth draped over their faces to protect themselves from the sun. Most of the soldiers can hide inside the boat, and the ones who steer it can cover their faces. No one would think there was anything odd about it."

Kilan only just stopped himself saying, "Thank you." He nodded to her briefly, almost imperceptibly. Then he turned to the gathered generals and repeated what she had just said.

They still weren't happy.

"This plan has far too many holes," General Kamodowa said. "No one in their right mind would lead such a suicide mission."

Everyone nodded in agreement. And that seemed to be the end of Varan's plan.

~~~~

Death hardly waited until the generals had filed out of the room before she made her opinion known. "Idiots! How did they ever become generals? They'll lose every battle they set out to fight!"

"What do we do?" Kilan asked. He didn't even notice he'd said "we" and not "I". Death did notice it. "Should I dismiss all the generals and replace them with someone who might be competent?"

"No," Death said slowly, looking at him as if he'd said something extraordinary. The ghost of a smile appeared on her face.

Kilan misunderstood the cause of this. "Surely my idea wasn't that bad."

Her smile widened. "No, it wasn't. Didn't you hear what you said before that?"

What he'd said-- Oh. Oh. Now he realised what she meant. "You're helping me, aren't you? So of course I included you in that question."

Death nodded, looking perfectly serious, but with a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Of course. As for what we do, I advise you find someone else to go on this mission. Someone like your cousin Hailanyu, for example."

"Hailanyu?" Kilan repeated. That name was familiar, but he had so many cousins it took him a minute to remember which one she meant. "Gialma's brother? Isn't he too young?"

"He's almost twenty-one," Death said. "And he's about to join the army."

That wasn't promising. Kilan tried to remember anything about Hailanyu. The most interesting thing he remembered about him was that he'd once spilled a cup of tea over his history teacher. "About to join. And he's only twenty. He doesn't sound like he'd be old enough for any sort of mission."

Death shrugged. "Not on his own. But he won't be the only person going. I advise you put Nimetath in command. She served in the army before joining the Inquisitors."

~~~~

Malishese royal weddings were usually grand affairs involving long, elaborate celebrations, feasts that last for days, and a public holiday being proclaimed throughout the empire. This royal wedding had no fanfare, no holiday, no feasts, and barely any celebration. Jalakanavu and Zafadin were married in the Temple of Buwnir-Etraleion[3] with only a small collection of royals and aristocrats to witness it. The common people had more important things to think of than royal weddings. Like the Carannish people, they were busy preparing for the war.

Some of the witnesses said they had never seen such a depressing wedding.

"More like a funeral," one princess said.

Another princess disagreed. "I've attended funerals that were more cheerful."

"A wedding at such a time is a terrible omen," some of the more superstitious people muttered. "That marriage will be a disaster."

Some superstitious but more optimistic people had their own opinion. "It's a good omen for our victory to have a wedding now. It would be foolish to have it later."

Jalakanavu didn't care what they thought. She had silenced all the grumbles that she needed to get married. Now she just needed to find some way to use her new husband... or rather, to use his family.

~~~~

"I'm sorry, your Majesty, I'm not sure I heard you properly. You want me to what?" Nimetath stared at Kilan as if he'd asked her to jump off the palace roof. "I'm not a general!"

"All my generals are incompetent," Kilan said. His aunt made no attempt to deny it. "You used to be a soldier. A captain, in fact. You know how to command a group of soldiers. And I know I can trust you."

That was a lie. He didn't really trust her, not since he'd learnt certain facts about his uncle's death. But he trusted her enough to carry out this mission. Considering how important it was, perhaps he really did trust her.

Nimetath didn't look convinced. "Your Majesty. With all due respect, it's been years since I left the army. I'll need time to put my affairs in order, and to train, and to get to know the people I'll be going on this mission with. Who are they?"

"You're going to choose them. Well, with one exception. I'd like you to take my cousin Hailanyu with you."

Kilan braced himself for some objection. Amazingly, none came.

"I know of him," Nimetath said. "Sensible enough boy. A bit naïve. Not someone who's likely to insist he knows better than everyone else. I don't expect he'll cause any trouble if he comes."

That was hardly a ringing endorsement. Still, at least she'd agreed. It would have been awkward if she hadn't; Hailanyu had already agreed to go on the mission. Kilan wisely decided not to mention this just yet.

~~~~

Nimetath was gone to select spies and soldiers she knew and trusted enough to take with her on this mission. Hailanyu was on his way to Esergot, according to his message. There was nothing left for Kilan to do but wait and hope. And worry.

When he retired to his room that evening he found Death lying on top of his bed, reading some of the letters he'd received that morning.

"Your generals have finally argued their way to a strategy, I see," she said.

Kilan rolled his eyes. "Strategy? They've decided to do nothing until Malish does something. They reach new and amazing heights of laziness with each argument they have." He sat down on the edge of the bed. She was lying too close to the edge for him to have room to lie down beside her. "Move over, please."

Death moved over to the other side. With a wave of her hand the letters flew over to the other side of the room. Kilan lay down next to her.

"I'm looking for suitable replacements for all of them," he said. "I don't care if they say it'll demoralise the army. Losing every battle would be much worse. By the way, Nimetath is going on the mission. And she's agreed to take Hailanyu."

He still didn't understand why Death had suddenly decided his younger cousin should go to Malish. No doubt she had her reasons -- something she'd seen in the future? But it still made no sense to him.

Death turned her head to look at him. "Kilan. You're worrying again. Stop it."

Oh, for goodness' sake. "I'm not exactly worrying."

"Then stop not exactly worrying."

He smiled wryly. "Easy for you to say."

Death said nothing. They lay in silence for several minutes. Kilan soon drifted off to sleep, curled up next to her. Death lay awake a while longer.

At the back of her mind she felt Fate's presence trying to push through the wall she'd built around her thoughts. She thought very pointedly of breaking Fate's nose. She heard the telepathic equivalent of an indignant huff, and Fate disappeared.

Death smiled. Whatever else happened, she could now effectively silence Fate's every attempt to interfere. Everything would go exactly the way she wanted it to. True, there were still certain nuisances to deal with. True, the war wasn't won yet. But she could say with certainty that it would be. Soon.

END OF BOOK 1

Chapter Footnotes:

[1] Zenda = The province of Carann that Gialma comes from.

[2] izenlee present = A sort of present, usually an item with religious or folkloric significance, given to people who are going to do something dangerous. It's believed to keep them safe, like a charm or talisman.

[3] Temple of Buwnir-Etraleion = The temple's name translates roughly as "Mercy and Quietude". It isn't dedicated to a specific god, but is instead meant to worship the entire Malishese pantheon. Weddings are traditionally performed in this sort of temple because different families place emphasis on different gods, and a family might feel their god was being slighted if one of their members was married in a temple dedicated to a god they don't hold in high esteem.