“Of course,” said the men around them. Some of them taking offense at the question, they all reaffirmed the unswerving loyalty of the Guard. “Of course.”

“Not everyone will,” said someone down the table. Costis couldn’t see who. He leaned forward to look. It was Exis, squad leader in Costis’s old century. He was a patron, educated, and known for being clever.

“The Eddisian will find people to support him,” said Exis. “He is the king, remember, and he can make it worth their while to bolster his power. The queen will need us.”

“Who will win if the king and the queen are at odds?” No one could doubt that they would be. No woman could slap her husband across the face and still pretend affection. No man could be slapped and still pretend to be a man.

“Who will win?” Exis suggested with a shrug, “Baron Erondites.”

If the king and the queen fought each other, the Baron Erondites would wait until they were both too weak to oppose him and then attack. Inevitably. The men around the table nodded in unhappy agreement.

“Where are you going, Costis?” they asked when he pushed himself to his feet.

“To check the duty schedule, and if I am not on it, to my room. I can await my fate there.”

“Don’t look now, but I think your fate is on its way. Our new captain just came in, and he is headed your way.”

“New captain?”

“You hadn’t heard? Enkelis already had the captain’s gear packed and moved out of his quarters. He says the queen freed Teleus, she didn’t reinstate him. He tried to run Aristogiton off, but Aristogiton told him to his face that he hadn’t been relieved of his oath of service and he wouldn’t leave until the queen told him to go. We’ve all been waiting for the queen to come out and settle Enkelis, but the day is almost over, and she hasn’t left her rooms. Aristogiton and his squad are confined to quarters. Nobody even knows where Teleus is.”

The new captain arrived at their table, and the men respectfully stood. Enkelis nodded at Costis. “You are wanted. Clean yourself up and come with me.”

Costis stepped between the guards and into the king’s guardroom. Sejanus smiled. “Our dear whipping boy is among us again. What brings you, Costis? Hope for revenge?”

“I’m on duty. I am to remain on duty until relieved or until the king dismisses me.”

“And whose orders are those?”

“My captain’s, Lord Sejanus. From whom else would I take my orders?”

Philologos got up from his bed to find that the world had not reinverted itself and was in fact exactly as he’d left it, much to his distress and the distress of many others. The queen did not leave her apartments. The king, when they eventually knocked on his door, got himself out of bed to open it, and told them to go away. He did admit the Eddisian Ambassador, but their conversation did not go sweetly, and Ornon stalked out in a rage.

The queen’s attendants refused to admit anyone to the queen, and refused to carry in messages, though some did leave on unrevealed errands. Ministers were left to their own devices. Counselors counseled themselves. There was no break in the ordered routine of government, but the palace seethed with disquiet.

Costis ate his meals in the king’s guardroom and slept at night for a few hours on the narrow bench that ran around the walls. The attendants took it in turn to sleep on the wider benches at either side of the doorway to the bedchamber. They were on hand, in case the king called in the night, but he did not.

The next day there were more visitors. Costis, torn by conflicting loyalties, made a mental note of those who came. These were men who might start a new government with the king. They waited in the guardroom while the attendants stepped in to ask if the king would like to see them. Mostly he said no, though he did allow Dite to come sit by his bed for a while. Lady Themis was turned away. An hour later her younger sister was admitted by the guards at the hallway door. She looked pale as she asked an attendant if she could see the king.

“His Majesty is not—”

“Let her in,” said the king from the bedchamber.

Lifting his eyebrows in surprise, the attendant waved Heiro toward the door. She went to the bedside and sat.

They talked in low voices for a while. The king, holding her hand in his, said, “I hope your father appreciates what a good friend you are to me.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said softly, and left.

The king slept then for the rest of the afternoon.

CHAPTER TEN

COSTIS woke with a start that rolled him off the narrow bench and onto one knee beside it. Groggy, he struggled to wake fully. He’d been asleep for only an hour or so, and had slept only a few hours altogether since the king was attacked. There was screaming. The screaming had woken him. Rubbing his eyes, he staggered across the guardroom and pushed between the men standing there, shoving aside attendants as needed and wondering why they stood like posts in his way. Only when he reached the door and struggled himself with the latch did he understand. The door was locked. The king was screaming on the far side, and they could not get in. He pounded at the door, but it was as solid as the ages. He shouted into the face of the attendant standing helpless beside him, “The key! Where’s the key?”

“We have no key,” Cleon shouted back.

Costis threw up his hands. Spinning, he looked around the room and snatched the gun out of the hand of the first guard he saw. Leaning it into the crook of his elbow, he pulled open the leather cartridge box on his belt. Even fuddled with sleep, he could load the gun. The gestures were automatic. He tore the paper cartridge open with his teeth and poured a bit into the priming pan, closed the pan and tipped the rest into the barrel, dropped the bullet, still wrapped in paper, into the barrel and rammed it home, then replaced the rammer in its groove beside the barrel and lifted the gun.

“Get back!” he shouted at the men watching him in confusion. “Get back!” he shouted louder when they didn’t move. Not until he put the muzzle against the lock of the door did they understand and dive for cover. There was a burst of light and a shattering blast from the gun. Costis blinked the afterimage from the muzzle flash out of his eyes and looked through the smoke. The door had a chunk as wide as his hand chewed out of it, but the lock still held. Costis reloaded. Everyone in the room was shouting, but no one stopped him. He raised the gun again. This time he turned his face away before he fired. When he looked back, the lock was twisted metal and the door was slightly ajar. He blew out his breath in relief. He’d felt the wind of the second bullet as it ricocheted off the door and past his ear. He didn’t want to have to fire a third time.

The king was sitting up in bed, the bedclothes twisted under him. He was propping himself on the stump of his right arm and staring down into his blood-covered hand. His nightshirt was spotted red. The room appeared to be otherwise empty, but Costis checked every corner and the latches on the windows to be sure there was no intruder before he turned back to the king, his knees beginning to weaken in the aftermath of the excitement, his hands to shake. By that time the king was surrounded by his attendants, all of them calling suggestions.

“A drink of water, Your Majesty.”