Page 224 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

“And you believed this nonsense.”

“I had no idea what to believe. Now, when you return to me, you are drenched in blood and have left a pile of bodies higher than a horse behind you. You are no lady-in-waiting.”

Ead rubbed her temple with one finger. Finally, she looked Sabran full in the face.

“My name,” she said, “is Eadaz du Zala uq-Nara.” Though her voice was steady, her eyes betrayed an inner conflict. “And I was brought to you by Chassar uq-Ispad as a bodyguard.”

“And what made His Excellency believe that you were better placed to protect me than my Knights of the Body?”

“I am a mage. A practitioner of a branch of magic called siden. Its source is the same orange tree in Lasia that protected Cleolind Onjenyu when she vanquished the Nameless One.”

“An enchanted orange tree.” Sabran let out a huff of laughter. “Next you will tell me pears can sing.”

“Does the Queen of Inys mock what she does not understand?”

Loth glanced from one to the other. Ead had seldom talked to Sabran at all when he had last been at court. Now, it seemed, she could goad the sovereign with impunity.

“Lord Arteloth,” Sabran said, “perhaps you can enlighten me as to howyoucame to leave court. And how you met with Mistress Duryan on your journey. It seems she is all addle-brained.”

Ead snorted into her cup. Loth reached across the table and poured from the jug of ale.

“Lord Seyton Combe sent Kit and myself to Cárscaro. He believed I was an impediment to your marriage prospects,” he said. “In the Palace of Salvation, we met the Donmata Marosa, who had a task for us. And from there, I’m afraid, things only wax stranger.”

He told her everything. The Flesh King’s confession that he had arranged to murder her mother. The mysterious Cupbearer, whose hands were also bloody in that deed. He told her of Kit’s death and the iron box he had taken across the desert, of his imprisonment in the Priory, and the daring escape back to Inys on theBird of Truth.

Ead chimed in here and there. She enriched and broadened the story, telling Sabran about her banishment and her visit to the ruined city of Gulthaga. About the Long-Haired Star and the Tablet of Rumelabar. She went into great depth about the foundation of the Priory of the Orange Tree and its beliefs, and the reason she had been sent to Inys. Sabran did not move once as she listened.

Only the flicker of her gaze betrayed her thoughts about each revelation.

“If Sabran the First was not born of Cleolind,” she said eventually, “and I am not saying I believe it, Ead—then whowasher mother? Who was the first Queen of Inys?”

“I don’t know.”

Sabran raised her eyebrows.

“While I was in Lasia, I learned more about the Tablet of Rumelabar,” Ead continued. “To understand its mystery, I paid a visit to Kalyba, the Witch of Inysca.” She glanced at Loth. “She is known here as the Lady of the Woods. She created Ascalon for Galian Berethnet.”

Ead had not mentioned this on the ship. “The Lady of the Woods is real?” Loth asked.

“She is.”

He swallowed.

“And you claimshemade the True Sword,” Sabran said. “The terror of the haithwood.”

“The very same,” Ead said, undaunted. “Ascalon was forged with both siden and sidereal magic—sterren—which comes from a substance left behind by the Long-Haired Star. It was these two branches of power that the Tablet of Rumelabar describes. When one waxes, the other wanes.”

Sabran was wearing the same mask of indifference she often wore in the Presence Chamber.

“To recapitulate,” she said tautly, “you believe my ancestor—the blessèd Saint—was a power-hungry, lustful craven who tried to press a country into accepting his religion, wielded a sword granted to him by a witch, and never defeated the Nameless One.”

“And stole the recognition for the latter from Princess Cleolind, yes.”

“You think I am the seed of such a man.”

“Fair roses have grown from twisted seeds.”

“What you did for me does not give you the right to blaspheme in my presence.”

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