A nod, the bleary, red-shot eyes still fixed on the chamber’s entranceway. ‘Dennis,’ he whispered. ‘Betrayer. You… you were not free to choose. Slave-my slave-I should never have trusted the darkness, never…’ He flinched once more on the throne, eyes suddenly glittering. ‘He comes.’
She had no idea whom he meant, but the raw emotion in his voice frightened her anew. What more could come on this terrible
Voices outside, one of them sounding bitter, then diffident.
She watched as a Tree planter warrior strode into the throne room. Ramose’s brother. One of them. The one who had left Dennislying on the tiles. Young, handsome in that way of theplanter-both alien and perfect. She tried to recall if she had heard his name-
‘Trull,’ said the King in a rasp. ‘Where is he? Where is Fear?’
‘He h
