The Heroes

are speaking of?’
    ‘My father!’ she snapped. ‘As you well know!’
    ‘I did not replace him.’ Bayaz looked almost amused. ‘Your father had the good grace, and the good sense, to resign.’
    ‘He is the best man for the task!’ It was an effort to stop herself from grabbing the Magus’ bald head and biting it. ‘The one man who did a thing to limit this pointless bloody slaughter! That puffed-up fool Mitterick? He charged half his division to their deaths yesterday! The king needs men who—’
    ‘The king needs men who obey.’
    ‘You do not have the authority!’ Her voice was cracking. ‘My father is a lord marshal with a chair on the Closed Council, only the king himself can remove him!’
    ‘Oh, the shame! Undone by the very rules of government I myself drafted!’ Bayaz stuck out his bottom lip as he reached into his coat pocket and slid out a scroll with a heavy red seal. ‘Then I suppose this carries no weight either.’ He gently unrolled it, thick parchment crackling faintly. Finree found herself suddenly breathless as the Magus cleared his throat.
    ‘By royal decree, Harod dan Brock is to be restored to his father’s seat on the Open Council. Some of the family estates near Keln will be returned, along with lands near Ostenhorm from which, it will be hoped, your husband will attend to his new responsibilities as lord governor of Angland.’ Bayaz turned the paper around and brought it closer, her eyesdarting over the blocks of masterful calligraphy like a miser’s over a chest of jewels.
    ‘How could the king not be moved by such loyalty, such bravery, such sacrifice as the young
Lord
Brock displayed?’ Bayaz leaned close. ‘Not to mention the courage and tenacity of his wife who, captured by the Northmen, mark you, poked Black Dow in the eye and demanded the release of sixty prisoners! Why, his August Majesty would have to be made of
stone.
He is not, in case you were wondering. Few men less so, indeed. He wept when he read the despatch that described your husband’s heroic assault upon the bridge.
Wept.
Then he ordered this paper drawn up, and signed it within the hour.’ The Magus leaned closer yet, so she could almost feel his breath upon her face. ‘I daresay … if one were closely to inspect this document … one could see the marks of his Majesty’s earnest tears … staining the vellum.’
    For the first time since it had been produced, Finree shifted her eyes from the scroll. She was close enough to see each grey hair of Bayaz’ beard, each brown liver spot on his bald pate, each deep, hard crease in his skin. ‘It would take a week for the despatch to reach him and another week for the edict to return. It has only been a day since—’
    ‘Call it magic. His Majesty’s carcass may be a week away in Adua, but his right hand?’ Bayaz held his own up between them. ‘His right hand is a little closer by. But none of that matters now.’ He stepped back, sighing, and started to roll the parchment up. ‘Since you say I have not the authority. I shall burn this worthless paper, shall I?’
    ‘No!’ She had to stop herself snatching it from his hand. ‘No.’
    ‘You no longer object to your father’s replacement?’
    She bit her lip for a moment. War is hell, and all that, but it presents opportunities. ‘He resigned.’
    ‘Did he?’ Bayaz smiled wide, but his green eyes stayed glittering hard. ‘You impress me once again. My earnest congratulations on your husband’s meteoric rise to power. And your own, of course … Lady Governess.’ He held out the scroll by one handle. She took it by the other. He did not let go.
    ‘Remember this, though. People love heroes, but new ones can always be found. With one finger of one hand I make you. With one finger of one hand …’ He put his finger under her chin and pushed it up, sending a stab of pain through her stiff neck. ‘I can unmake you.’
    She swallowed. ‘I understand.’
    ‘Then I wish you good day!’ And Bayaz released her and the scroll, all smiles again. ‘Please convey the happy news to your husband, though I must ask that you keep it between yourselves for the time being. People might not appreciate, as you do, quite how the magic works. I shall convey your husband’s acceptance to his Majesty along with the news that he made the offer. Shall I?’
    Finree cleared her throat. ‘By all means.’
    ‘My colleagues on the Closed Council will be delighted that the matter has been put to rest so