Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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Noon; somehow, through the pall of smoke that hung trapped in the great pit, and the aging sick smell of
burned living-places, the temple bells still rang each day.If the others not there in, say, an eieht-day,
we'll know for sure . Megan remembered Shkai ra's acknowledging nod faintly, like a ghost's face.
She was just waiting for the eight days to pass; it was only for the sake of sticking to the plan she came
to the Marble Palace steps. Every time hope tempted her, she reminded herself of Hotblood's last
thougnt-cry. Hope would be nothing but a hindrance to her mourning, she knew from experience, and
delay her final acceptance.
On the ninth day, she would make use of Chevenga's note:full use, price no object. He owed her that.
As he had admitted, dictating it.
Though just showing at noon would do, she had been on the gleaming marble steps, wide as a field,
most of today, sitting back against a sun-globe clasped by the familiar eagle, that had once had gilding,
and a head. They'd cleared away the broken tower, and there was a small crowd here, all looking as if
they were waiting for someone.We weren't the only ones who thought this was a good meeting place
.
The great palace gates stood open. She absently looked that way. Tiny in their yawning hugeness, a
Yeoli warrior staggered out into the light, slid to his knees, and threw back his head with his hands raised.
"Aiiiiiiigggh!" The scream froze and silenced everyone; hands clasped hilts. "Naaaaiiggh! Amiyaseye
mya!" He drew his sword, and smashed it down on the marble, breaking the layer-forged blade in two.
The silence deepened. "We've lost him! He's dead!"
Megan hissed in a breath.As usual , she thought.He got his way . Then:oh, shit . After an instance's
stunned quiet, the people on the steps took up the cry, some dashing away. She heard it spread out into
the City like a circular ripple, its tone anguished, then enraged.They'll go nuts . Whenever Chevenga had
got wounded badly enough in this war that his life was in danger, the army, especially the Yeolis, had
gone on a rampage. She'd heard tales of fleeing Arkans being chased for days, prisoners by the thousand
tortured, babies flung into fires…
She jumped down and dashed flat out to the manor, outrunning the news. Biting back her panting, she
sauntered shaking her head into the main hall, where some of the Yeolis loitered. "I tell you, somerumors
! I don't know who could be stupid enough to believe the one I just heard."
"What's that?" a stocky woman doing stretches turned her head to ask.
"Oh, some dumb thing that the Invincible's dead. They started that one thelast three times he was
wounded. I've never heard anyone with a decent healer die of broken arms."
"Dead?" the woman gasped. The rest all started, froze blinking; fast Yeoli words flew back and forth,
and then they were all yelling, "Boru! Boru! Amiyaseye-mya-sema-nakraseye-mya-boru-boruboru-naaiiiiiigghr"
Well, that answers my question, who could be stupid enough. "No, no,no !" she yelled in her
ship-captain's voice. "He's not dead, dammit, it's just a stupid rumor, didn't youlisten to me?!" The roar
outside was distant, but audible. Then the centurion came running in, snapping orders angrily, making
them all freeze in place. By the time the first keening warriors had reached the manor, the rumors that
Chevenga was dead and that he wasn't were being bellowed in equal amounts, as far as she could tell.
But the centurion, having got warning enough, managed to hold his people in check.