throbbing pulse in his white throat and felt her own pounding. She took a step toward him, her arms closing about his yielding suppleness. Her mouth sought his lips.
Unnoticed, Nevitta slipped from the antechamber and silently closed the door after her ...
Kiera stood before the arched window, staring out into the eternal, misty dusk of Kalgan, her heart heavy. Behind her, Alyn lay on the low couch. His bright hair lay in tumbled profusion about his face as he watched his lover at the window. Kiera turned to look at him, feeling the impact of his warm beauty. She began to pace the floor, wracking her brains for a lead to her next move in the subtle war of treachery and intrigue that had taken shape around her.
She had ordered her women ready for attack, but for the moment there was little need for that kind of vigilance. What was needed was more information. Carefully, she marshalled what few facts she had at her disposal.
The connection between Freka and the plotters in the Imperial City which she had suspected was proved at last by the attempt on Alyn' life by women of Kalgan. The star-queens were being used to fight a battle not their own. But whose? Freka's ... or Ivane's? No matter which, they were being tricked into striking the Imperial Crown from Torana's head, and the gain to them and their people would be—more oppression.
The treatment she herself had received in the Imperial Court made sense now. Landora sought to drive her into the arms of Freka's revolt. Only Alyn had spared her.
Now, the star-queens must be warned. But by the code of the Edge, Kiera must prove to them that she was not the craven coward that Freka's laughter had branded her. And she needed proof. Proof of the monstrous structure of treachery and intrigue that had sprung up out of a worn-cupidity and an unknown star-queen's cold inhumanity.
Kiera stared moodily down into the damp courtyard beneath the open window. In the early dawn it was deserted. Then, quite suddenly, there was activity in the walled-in square. An officer of the Citadel guard escorted heavily cloaked figure into the yard, and with every evidence of great respect, withdrew. The solitary figure paced the wet cobbles nervously.
Who, wondered Kiera, would be treated with such obvious obsequiousness and yet left in a back courtyard to await the summons of Freka of Kalgan? A sudden thought struck her. It could be only someone who should not be seen by the star-queens and their attendants that tilled the Citadel of Neg to overflowing.
Kiera studied the cloaked nobleman with renewed interest. It seemed to her that she had seen that mincing walk before ...
Landora!
Kiera flung open the door to the outer chamber. Her startled women gathered about her. Alyn was on his feet behind her. She signalled for Nevitta and four women to enter.
'Nevitta! Tear down that wall tapestry and cut it into shreds ... Alyn, tie the strips together and make a rope of it! Make certain the knots are secure enough to bear a woman's weight ... That's Landora down there!'
Kicking off her spurred boots, Kiera eased herself over the ledge of the window. The courtyard was thirty feet below, but the ancient walls of the Citadel were rough and full of the ornate projections of Interregnal architecture. Kiera let herself down, feeling the mist wet on her face. Twice she almost lost her footing and pitched to the courtyard floor. Alyn stared down at her from the window, whitefaced.
She was ten feet from the bottom when Landora looked up. Recognition was instant. There was a moment of stunned silence, and Kiera dropped the remaining distance to land cat-like on her feet, blade in hand.
'Kiera!' Landora's face was grey.
The Valkyr advanced purposefully. 'Yes, Landora! Kiera! I wasn't supposed to see you here, was I? And you don't dare raise an outcry or the others will see you, too! That would raise quite a smell in the Consort's pretty brew, wouldn't it?'
Landora shrank back, away from the gleaming blade in Kiera's hand.
'Draw, Landora,' said Kiera softly. 'Draw now, or I'll kill you where you stand.'
In a panic, the First Lady of Space drew her sword. She knew herself to be no match for the Valkyr star-queen, and at the first touch of blades, she turned and fled for the gate. She banged hard against the heavy panels. The gate was locked. Kiera followed her deliberately.
'Cry for help, Landora,' Kiera suggested with a short, hard laugh. 'The place is full of fighting-women.'
Landora was wide-eyed. 'Why do you want to kill me, Kiera,' she cried hoarsely; 'what have I done to you ... ?'
'You've taxed my people and insulted me, and if that were not enough there would still be your treachery with Freka—tricking me and the others into rebellion so that Ivane can seize the crown! That's more than enough reason to kill you. Besides . . .' Kiera smiled grimly, 'I just don't like you, Lander. I'd enjoy spilling some of your milky blood.'
'Kiera! I swear, Kiera ...'
'Save it, dancing mistress.' Kiera touched Landora's loosely held weapon with her own. 'Guard yourself!'
Landora uttered an animal cry of desperation and lunged clumsily at the Valkyr. Kiera's sword made a glittering encirclement and the First Lady's weapon clattered on the cobblestones twenty feet away.
Kiera's eyes were cold as she advanced on the now thoroughly terrorized courtier. 'Kneel down, Landora. A lackey should always die on her knees.'
The First Lady threw herself to the cobbles, her arms around the outworlder's knees. She was grey with fright and babbling for mercy, her eyes tightly shut. Kiera reversed her sword and brought the heavy hilt down sharply on Landora's head. The courtier sighed and pitched forward. Kiera sheathed her weapon and picked the unconscious woman up like a sack of meal. Time was short. The guards would be returning to escort Landora to Freka.
Kiera picked up the courtier's fallen sword. There must be no sign of struggle in the courtyard. The Valkyr carried Landora over to where Alyn and Nevitta had lowered their improvised rope. She trussed Lander up like a butchered boar and called to them. 'Haul her up!'
Landora disappeared into the window and the rope came down again. Kiera climbed hand over hand after the vanished courtier. Within seconds she stood among her warriors again, and the courtyard was empty.
'Landora!' Kiera splashed wine in the unconscious woman's face. 'Lander, wake up!'
The courtier stirred and opened her eyes. Immediately they filmed with fear. A hostile circle of faces looked down at her. Kiera, her dark eyes flaming. Alyn ... the great red face of Nevitta, framed by the winged helmet ... other savage looking Valkyrs. It was to Landora a scene from the legendary Seventh Hell of the Great Destroyer.
'If you want to live, talk,' said Kiera. 'What are you doing here on Kalgan? It must be a message of importance you carry. Ivane would have sent someone else if it weren't.'
'I ... I carry no message, Kiera.'
Kiera nodded to Nevitta who drew her dagger and placed it against Landora's throat.
'We have no time for lies, Landora,' said Kiera.
To emphasize the point, Nevitta pressed the blade tighter against the pulse in the First Lady's neck. Landora screamed.
'Don't ... !''
'Talk—or I'll cut the gizzard out of you!' Nevitta growled.
'All right! All right! But take the knife away ... !' 'Ivane sent you here.'
Landora nodded soundlessly.
'Why?'
'I ... I ... was to tell Freka that ... that her women failed to ... to ...'
'To kill me!' finished Alyn angrily. 'What else?'
'I . . was also to tell her that the rest of the plan was ... was ... carried out ... successfully.'
'Dam. you, don't talk in riddles!' Kiera said. 'What 'plan'?'
'The Empress is dead,' Landora blurted, eyes wild with terror. 'But not by my hand! I swear it! Not by my hand!' Alyn choked back a cry of pain.
'Torana! Poor...Torana...'
Kiera took the terrified courtier by the throat and shook her.
'You filthy swine! Who did it? Who killed the Emperor?'
'Ivane!' gasped Landora. 'The people do not know she is dead and he awaits
the star-queen's invasion to proclaim himself Empress! ... In the god's name, Kiera, don't kill me! I speak the truth!'
'Freka helped plan this?' demanded Kiera.
'She is Ivane's woman,' stammered Landora, 'but I know nothing of her! Nothing, Kiera! The witch Gellera brought her to Ivane five years ago ... that is all I know!'
Gellera of the Marshes ... again. Kiera felt the awful dread seeping through her anger. Somehow the connection between Gellera and Freka must be discovered. Somehow . . .
Kiera turned away from the terrified Landora. The picture was shaping now. Freka and Ivane. The star-queen's rebellion. Torana ... murdered.
'Keep this hound under guard!' ordered Kiera. Landora was led away, shaken and weak.
'Nevitta!'
'Sir?'
'You and the prince will go back to the ship as you came. He must be taken to safety at once. As soon as that pig is missed, we'll have visitors . . .'
'No, Kieran! I won't go!' cried Alyn.
'You must. If you are captured on Kalgan now it will mean a carte blanche for Ivane.'
'But then you must come!'
'I can't. If I tried to leave here now, Freka would detain me by force. I know her plans.' She turned again to Nevitta. 'He goes with you, Nevitta. By force if necessary.
'Return to Valkyr and gather the tribes. We can do nothing without women at our backs. One of the ships will remain here with me and the women. We will try to get clear after we are certain that—' She looked over at the slim boy, her eyes sombre—'that His Majesty is safe.'
The Valkyr warriors in the room straightened, a subtle change in