Kieron studied Ivane coldly. She was, he had to admit, a regal figure. A tall woman with hair the color of jet. A face that seemed chiseled out of marble. Dark, predatory eyes and a figure like a Dawn Age goddess. She stood before the Great Throne of the Empire, mantled in the sable robe of the Imperium — a robe as black as space and spangled with diamonds to resemble the stars of the Imperial Galaxy. On her head rested the irridium tiara of Imperatrix.
Ivane swept the Hall with a haughty stare that stung like a lash. When her eyes found Alys standing beside Kieron, they brightened, became feral.
"Guards!" she commanded. "Seize that woman! She is the killer of the Emperor Toran!"
A murmuring filled the chamber. The Janizaries pressed forward. Kieron drew his sword and leaped to the dais beside Ivane. She did not shrink back from him.
"Touch her, and Ivane dies!" shouted Kieron, his point at Ivane's naked breast. The murmuring subsided and the Janizaries pulled up short.
"Now, you are al! going to listen to me!" shouted Kieron from the dais. "This woman under my blade is a murderess and plotter, and I can prove it!"
Ivane's face was strained and white. Not from fear of his sword, Kieron knew.
"In the Palace dungeons you wil! likely find Landor. ." Kieron continued. "He will be there because he knew of Ivane's plottings and talked too much when he had a dagger at his throat. He will confnrm what I say!
"This woman plotted to usurp the Imperium as long as five years ago! It may have been longer. ." He turned to Ivane. "How long does it take to incubate an android, Ivane? A year? Two? And then to train him, school him so that every move he makes is intended to further your aims? How long does all that take?" I
vane uttered a scream of terror now. "Freka! Call Freka!"