“We’re not sisters.”
“Oh but we are. I’m quite convinced of it. I was meant to have a sister, you see. But she died before she could be born.” The Empress’s gaze snapped back to the slaves and the statue. “Hurry up!”
Their efforts instantly became frantic, hammers moving in a blur as the last of the iron pegs were pounded into place. “Handsome fellow, isn’t he?” the Empress asked as the slaves secured ropes around the statue’s head. “Not to your taste, I know. But still, I assume you can still appreciate the aesthetic qualities of male beauty.”
Reva glanced at the bronze face, now partly obscured by a net of ropes. He had certainly been a handsome man, strong-jawed with a narrow nose, though his expression was even more stern and commanding than the plethora of heroes the Volarians erected in every spare corner of their city. He wore the armour of a senior officer, though it seemed more elaborate and ornate than others she had seen.
“Savarek Avantir,” the Empress said. “The greatest military commander in Volarian history. And my father.”
The slaves hurriedly hitched their ropes to a team of horses and began flailing at their flanks with whips. The iron pegs in the statue’s neck fell free as the rents they had forced in the metal widened, the bronze giving a whining groan of protest until the head finally came loose, falling onto the plinth with a loud clang.
“Conqueror of the southern provinces,” the Empress went on, moving to the plinth and laying a hand on the metal head. “Victor of sixty-three separate engagements. One of only two citizens to gain the red by virtue of martial merit rather than property, creator of the Varitai and Kuritai and the first to receive the Ally’s blessing. A fellow of singular achievement, wouldn’t you say?”
“Did he kill as many people as you?”
The Empress’s mouth twitched in a smile as she caressed the head. “More than both of us combined, little sister. And we have killed so many, have we not?”
“Even the Ally’s gift is no defence against a skillful blade.” She turned to regard the man kneeling amidst the Arisai. “Nor it seems, sufficient reward to ensure good service.”
She waved a hand and the Arisai hauled the kneeling man upright, dragging him forward. He seemed to be absent any injury but sagged as if wounded, head lolling and limbs slack. He made no sound though the stench arising from the dark stains that covered his thighs spoke of bowels loosened by fear.
“Allow me to introduce General Lotarev,” the Empress said as the Arisai allowed the stinking man to slump to his knees before her. “Commander of the Third Volarian Army, whom I elevated to the red and promised the Ally’s blessing should he fulfil his boast of bringing that golden-haired bitch before me, preferably in chains though a corpse would have done. In the event his heroic troops fled the field with such alacrity I’ve little doubt some have reached the eastern shore by now.”
She crouched down, taking hold of the unfortunate general’s hair and jerking his head back, revealing a face twitching in unalloyed terror, bleached bone white and the eyes betraying a near complete loss of reason. “Why did you come back, Lotarev?” she asked him, her tone not unkind, though since she spoke in Realm Tongue, Reva doubted the man could comprehend a word. “What did you imagine your reward would be? Was it duty? All those years of service don’t fade easily, I suppose. The capital in peril, you racing to bring me warning regardless of the risk to your own neck. Hoping for a statue of your own, eh?”
She leaned closer, speaking softly, her hand cupping his unshaven chin. “Don’t you understand? The blond bitch can slaughter every soul in this city and rend it to dust, and I suspect I’ll laugh at the spectacle. No, I just wanted her.” Her other hand tightened in his hair, jerking the head again and drawing a fearful whimper. “She once took something from me, you see. I owe her a considerable debt.”
She released him, rising and turning to the headless statue with a contemplative air. “Still, your dutiful service shouldn’t go unrewarded. I’m minded to spare you the three deaths and give you the statue you hunger for. Fashioned by the expert hand of my own little sister.”
One of the Arisai came to Reva’s side, proffering a broad-bladed axe, the others dragging the general around until he knelt before her, head bowed.
Reva ignored the axe, fixing her gaze on the Empress. “No.”
“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “How terribly uncharacteristic. The reports from Alltor were fairly lurid in their description of your willingness to do this very thing.”
