State of Sorrow (Untitled #1)(104)

There would be no one to oppose Vespus, save Mael. And while she believed Mael’s intentions towards the Rhannish people, the Jedenvat under him would be made up of lackeys who Vespus would choose because he could buy their loyalty.

Once Vespus had got rid of Bayrum he could take the land he’d long wanted in the North Marches. Take the whole of Rhannon, turn it all into a farm if he chose to. Mael alone wouldn’t be able to stop him, especially not against a Jedenvat Vespus had assembled. It would be easy for them to do what they’d done to Harun, and vote to depose him, leaving Vespus free to manoeuvre another puppet into place.

And now there was no one to stop him. It was too late.

Or was it? A cocky, traitorous voice whispered in the back of her mind. There were still three weeks until the election. If used correctly, there might be time to stop him. If an imposter was going to govern – surely it was better for it to be one who wasn’t under Vespus’s control? For her friends, and for her people. For her real family, who might still be out there. And for Dain, who’d wanted more. She could help them. Charon was right, she might never be able to go back, but she might be able to make their lives easier. Bring them some joy. She might be able to make something good out of the hideous situation she found herself in. She couldn’t bring back the dead Ventaxis child, but she could take her place. She alone could stop Vespus’s relentless march to the top of Rhannon. That was something, wasn’t it?

For the first time since her night with Rasmus, the darkness inside her receded as a spark inside her heart took hold. They were her people. She was one of them.

She stood up as Irris returned with a tea tray.

Irris paused in the doorway, frowning, as though the changes inside Sorrow were already manifest on her face. “Sorrow?”

“You’re off the hook. I did my own pep talk,” Sorrow said.

Irris looked around the room as though she expected to see someone else there. “What do you mean?”

“You’re right. Enough is enough. I have a job to do, and I know exactly where to start. I need to go out and meet the people. Forget what the Jedenvat said. I need to see where they live, and work. Get to know them, and what they need. What they want.”

Irris walked to the table and put the tray down. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, and I’m fine disobeying the Jedenvat, but … is it a good idea, after what happened in Rhylla? If you’re out in the open you’re vulnerable. Maybe you could start by releasing some statements?”

“No. No more statements. No more bits of paper. Mael can do that, but I’m not. If I stay hidden away I’m as bad as Harun,” Sorrow countered. “I’m going out there. We’re going out there.”

“Let’s write to my father,” Irris said. “I’ll make him see we have to. He can smooth things over with the Jedenvat.”

“You do that,” Sorrow said. “I’m going to take a bath. And put on some clothes.”

Irris finally smiled. “Thank the Graces. I didn’t know how to tell you, but you smell terrible.”

Sorrow threw a pillow at her as she passed.


Charon sent a bird back that afternoon, and the haste of it made Sorrow’s heart soar with hope until she saw the flicker of shock cross Irris’s face.

“He said no?” Sorrow guessed.

“He says it’s better for you to stay where you’re safe.”

Sorrow swallowed and looked away, tears pricking at her eyes. How could he deny her this?

“To hell with it.” Irris screwed up the piece of paper and dropped it to the floor, kicking it to Sorrow. It bumped against her foot, and she looked over at her friend.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re right. You need to get out there. It’s the only way. Besides, you’re eighteen. You’re not a child. And neither am I. So let’s do it.”

Sorrow stared at her, trying to contain the hope that had flared once more. “Irris, it’s one thing for me to rebel, but he’s your father…”

“And he’s wrong. This is your life, Row.” She paused. “For Rhannon?”

“For Rhannon.”


They spent the afternoon drawing up a list between them of all the places they could think of to meet the people: faculties at the universities, unions, guilds, schools and hospitals. Then they split the list, penning letter after letter to the heads and leaders, asking when would be a good time for Candidate Ventaxis to visit. They made sure never to say which candidate it was, relying on presumption to serve them.

And serve them it did.

The birds began to return the following morning, and kept coming. Invitations to address the law faculty at the Institute, the accounting faculty in Istevar, to visit the mason’s guild, the physician’s guild, and the miner’s union right there in the east, based at the stone mine.

“Where do we start?” Sorrow asked. “One of the guilds? They’re influential. Or the universities?”

“The miners,” Irris said. “Start with the people. Write to them now. We can go this afternoon, at the shift changeover.”


When the weather broke that afternoon and the storms paused, they took it as an excellent sign. Right up until the moment the guard stationed on the main door of the manse raised his spear as Sorrow and Irris approached.