fear—then fell to his knees in terror as a nightmarish vision walked out of the depths of the tent
carrying his sword.
“I seem to be spending tonight collecting loyalties,” said Ishbel. “Do I have yours,
Insharah?”
“How many can you conceal within your sorcery?” Armat asked Ravenna. He was fully
armored and weaponed, and shifted from foot to foot in ill-concealed eagerness. Armat had been
blooded that night, and now he wanted more.
“Enough,” she said. “I don”t have a precise number for you, Armat. Enough. That will
have to do.”
“No need to snap, my lady,” Armat said. “Am I not about to deliver to you that for which
you have lusted?”
“Am I not about to deliver to you that for which you have lusted?” Ravenna snapped.
“Don”t condescend to me, Armat.”
“Oh, for all the gods” sakes,” Lister said, “stop fighting like children. Another few hours
and we will all have what we want. Power, and a chance to secure this land against that which
approaches from—”
He stopped, suddenly very alert, and looked about the interior of the tent.
“What is it?” Armat said, drawing his sword.
“Someone—” Lister began, then drew in a deep breath of shock as power enveloped
everyone in the tent. “Someone,” he said again, his voice now hoarse with a combination of
anger, fear, and surprise, “is using the Persimius gloom.”
Before any among Armat, Ravenna, or Lister could move, or summon any sorcery of
their own, the blood-soaked Ishbel appeared in their very midst. She spun on her heel as she
materialized, flinging one hand out from the goblet she held in her other, scattering blood over
the other three.
“I invoke the right of the dark-shrouded widow,” she hissed, “given to me by Elcho
Falling, to speak uninterrupted against the murderers of the Lord of Elcho Falling.”
Armat and Lister both tried to speak, but found themselves unable to so much as open
their mouths, while Ravenna struggled uselessly to summon any of her own power.
“You are all bound for the moment,” said Ishbel. She looked at each of them, circling
slowly, staring coldly at them. “If you had not planned or participated in Maxel”s murder, then
you would still be able to speak and move. What I have just spoken is a sorcery of justice.” She
gave a soft, harsh laugh. “Your immobility condemns you, all three.”
She indicated a spot toward the door of the tent, and all three of her captives found their
eyes drawn to it.
Insharah stood there, holding his sword.
“Behold,” Ishbel said. “My witness.”
Then she stepped close to Armat. “Yours was the sword,” she said, and gave his chest a
slight push, sending him toppling askew into the chair just behind him.
“I curse you,” Ishbel continued, her voice low and powerful, “to live out what remains of
your life as a puppet. You shall not move of your own accord, nor shall you ever speak, save to
move to the wishes and to mouth the words of your puppetmaster. His name is Insharah.”
“You will tell the Lady of Elcho Falling,” said Insharah, “how grateful you are that your
life has been spared.”
Armat”s eyes rolled frantically, but he could not halt the words issuing from his mouth. “I
am most grateful to the Lady of Elcho Falling that my life has been spared.”
Ishbel gave a cold smile, and looked at Insharah. “My lord, can you hold this for me for
the moment?” She held out the goblet she carried in one of her hands, and Insharah took it in his.
Then Ishbel turned to Lister. “What can I say to you, Lister? For twenty years, more, I
adored you and thought you omnipotent and blessed. I murdered men at your pleasure, and
married a man at your whim. But your whim is capricious, is it not? You withdrew your love from me, as also from my husband, whom I had come to love. Thus I withdraw my love from
you, Lister, and condemn you to the fate of the hundreds you sent to my knife.”
Lister”s eyes bulged, but he could not move, nor use any of his power against her.
Ishbel lifted her right hand, and every eye in the tent was drawn to the glinting blade that
curved out from her first and second fingers.
“Die in the manner of my husband,” Ishbel said, and the blade arced through the air, and
in the next instant Lister”s belly exploded, sending blood and organs cascading down his legs to
the floor.
Fresh blood besmirched Ishbel”s face, but she did not blink. She brought the blade down
once more, and then yet again, as Lister tried to clutch his bowels back into his body, separating
every single organ in his abdominal and pelvic cavity from their supports and sending them
sliding through his frantic fingers to the floor.
Lister lifted his face, just enough to stare one long moment into Ishbel”s implacable eyes,
then he toppled over, the sound of his body hitting the pile of his entrails a frightful, sickening
wet thud.
Ishbel ignored him. She looked to Insharah, and he handed back to her the goblet.
Then Ishbel turned to Ravenna. “You tried once to murder me, and then you murdered
your mother, and you murdered my husband, who was your lover, and whom you professed to
love. You carry his child. Shall you murder that one day, too, when the whim strikes you? Is no
one safe from your ambition?”
She sighed, and held up the goblet. “See here, Ravenna. This is the Goblet of the Frogs.
Is it not beauteous? It was made by my ancestress, and is a thing of great power. But on this vile
night, its power is of no use to me. It is but a goblet, and it is what it contains which is of
interest.”
Ishbel dipped her free hand into the goblet, and when she withdrew it, her fingers were
slick with blood.
“It contains the blood of my murdered husband, Ravenna,” Ishbel said. “Imagine this
blood”s power, when presented to its murderer.”
Ishbel flicked her hand suddenly, and even despite the enchantment that bound Ravenna,
the woman managed to flinch.
Blood flew through the air to a point just above Ravenna”s head. There it coalesced into
one large globule and then, horribly, into a travesty of the twisting rings of the crown of Elcho
Falling, the slowly turning bands now made of clotted blood rather than gold.
“This bloodied crown is my revenge on you, Ravenna,” Ishbel said quietly, “and I use it
not as Ishbel, Lady of Elcho Falling, but as the midwife of sorrow which you have always
believed me to be.”
She paused, taking a deep breath. “The first ring I use to curse you and to cut you off
from the Land of Dreams.”
One of the bloodied bands slipped free from its two companions, sliding down over
Ravenna”s body as once the true crown had slipped over Maximilian”s body.
“Never more shall you walk the Land of Dreams,” said Ishbel, “and never more shall you
use its power for any means, fair or foul.”
Tears slid down Ravenna”s face. Her body twitched as if she fought to struggle free, but
Ishbel”s enchantment kept her bound.
“The second ring,” said Ishbel, “I use to cut your child free from Elcho Falling. No
longer Maximilian”s heir, no longer his blood, he shall never be able to enter Elcho Falling again without the citadel recognizing him only as the murderer of the Lord of Elcho Falling.”
The second ring slid down over Ravenna”s body, and her mouth opened in a silent
scream.
“The third ring,” Ishbel said as the final ring began its descent over Ravenna, “I use to cut
you completely from any society or land. No man, no people, and no country shall ever love or
offer you safe harbor again, Ravenna. Go now. I free you from the enchantment that I used to
bind you. Go now from this tent and from this land. Go and bear your child in agony and sorrow,
and weep that you have so thoughtlessly murdered those who loved you.”
Ravenna collapsed to her knees as Ishbel”s power set her free, then managed to get back
to her feet.
“You have made yourself a bad enemy—” she hissed, but Ishbel cut her off with a laugh
of genuine amusement.
“A worse enemy than what I have in you already? Go now, Ravenna. I am not interested
in what useless words you think to fling my way. If it was not for that child you, too, would be
dead. Go. Go! ”
Ravenna sent Ishbel one last, hate-filled look, then she stumbled from the tent.
Insharah waited a moment until he heard her footsteps fade, then he walked over to Ishbel
and took her elbow as she sagged in exhaustion.
“My lady,” he murmured.
“Take your puppet,” said Ishbel, “and use him to establish your control over this army.”