Doubt plagued Lyude's mind. He was to be shipped to Diadem, under the pretence of being an Imperial Ambassador – he knew it was because the Empire wanted no correspondence with Diadem and thus wouldn't have any contact with the exiled redhead, but in order to fulfil his punishment requirements, he had to lie to the monarch and the people of the nation he would be moving to and pretend that he was actually an officer. What horrible deeds could he expect from them if he was discovered?

The gaolers weren't much helping either. Only the nastiest and most dim-witted of soldiers were assigned the role of patrolling the cells and feeding the convicts, as it wasn't the best paid job and there wasn't much chance of a breakout from the high-strength solitary confinement cells. The nastiest and most dim-witted soldiers also found it amusing to taunt Lyude especially, for he was so much more fragile than other inmates, about his punishment.

"You know," one of them would say conspiratorially, "I heard that they eat people in Diadem. They rape 'em, torture 'em and eat 'em alive. Whaddaya suppose you'll taste like, traitor? Do traitors taste like the best Mintakan delicacy, or would they taste more like burnt foreign Pow?"

"Bet ye taste like burnt Pow meat, rotten to the core at that." The second one would add, and then, reaching through the flap in the door where the food tray was pushed, they would upend it and spill the contents over the grimy floor.

Though he was terrified at the prospect of going alone to the potentially hostile Diadem, he was almost ecstatic to finally be allowed out of his small cell into the daylight again, though for the first few minutes or so the sun stung his eyes as it gleamed off the polished metal buildings in Mintaka, whence he was led through to the port and his waiting deportation vessel.

It was quite surprising that, as a convict, he would be given one of the newest, most advanced models of the single-person cruisers, but then… he supposed it was logical. If he were to pass as an ambassador, a legal officer, it had to seem as though he were in the Empire's favour and in frequent contact with them.

That theory completely contradicted the fact that they were giving him nothing to leave with apart from a small bundle of his personal belongings, which Almarde had given to the soldiers for him, and his army issue Sonic Rifle. No clothes apart from his official uniform, no Magnus apart from those he had already accumulated and no money apart from the small amount that Almarde had slipped in his bundle.

Oh yes, and there was a letter from Geldoblame addressed to King Ladekahn of Diadem – that was something else that Lyude had to take with him to the land of clouds.

It was forbidden for family and friends to wave goodbye to the exiled Lyude, or it was under normal circumstances. Because of their high status, Skeed, Vallye and Fadroh were allowed and expected to come to the dock to cast off the tiny vessel. Lyude had no real wish to see any of them, still hurting deep inside from his suffering not two months prior. The only person he wanted to see him off on this journey was Almarde, and she was forbidden from seeing him. That was just another part of his punishment.

It was even worse to have Skeed and Fadroh seeing him escorted out as he was, wincing at the sunlight after his weeks of solitary confinement in a dark cell in the Imperial Fortress, bleeding from the wrists because of the rubbing the shackles he was bound with caused – there were great red welts in the skin, painful and deepening with every moment he bore his chains.

For some reason, it began to dawn on him that this wasn't fair. What had he done wrong? He had refused to kill his people, the Azhanis – did that mean he should be punished so? Yes, in the Imperial eye. Yes, in the laws of Malpercio, which Geldoblame flawlessly followed.

And how hard he had fought, how hard he had tried to attain Skeed and Vallye's love, but still they scorned him and still they hated him. It wasn't fair, on the grounds of his birth alone he had been hated by his half-siblings. Now he was to never see them again, and while his desperation to prove himself to them grew, their hatred and resentment would only flourish. Skeed, of course, had good reason to hate him – much better than the younger Vallye – and Lyude, as the youngest of three, was only thankful that Skeed had managed to turn his certain execution into exile, even if it was to Diadem, where he would apparently be raped again and then eaten alive by the heathen inhabitants.

Lyude could feel the hate-filled eyes upon him as the gaolers released him from his chains and shoved him into the one-man cruiser that was on auto-pilot to Diadem. To prevent his trying to escape to another country, the onboard computer had been programmed so that if the cruiser was steered manually off-course, the engines would immediately self-destruct, sending the small craft plunging into the Taintclouds and sending Lyude to a certain death. Also, to prevent the convict's escape in a different craft once he had made it to Diadem, or if he tampered with the computer and managed to turn off the self-destruct mechanism, units stationed in the continents with neutral alliance to Alfard had been ordered to shoot and kill him on sight.

Fadroh was barking out some commands, Skeed was hissing some hateful words, but Lyude couldn't hear them. It was all a blur – it had happened so fast! And then, suddenly and without warning, or so it seemed, Alfard was just a speck in the distance.

When had they cast him off? He hadn't noticed them cast him off! Had any of them said goodbye? Good luck? We'll miss you? No, somehow he didn't think they would have done.

And now, for the long journey to Diadem, there was nothing to do but rummage around in the small compartment in the front of the craft and try to get some sleep, cramped in an awkward position, using the cloth that he usually kept for wrapping up his sonic rifle as a pillow. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?

Some dark corner of his mind told him that what tomorrow brought wouldn't be enjoyable. It could be anything – resentful faces, mistrust, that torture he had been told he would have to endure… the Mintakans always insisted that those from Diadem were savages – could that be true? Would they really abuse him and eat him?

Of course relations between Alfard and Diadem were shaky; they had always been that way, ever since the skirmishes a couple of generations back. Everyone knew that, even those from the neutral continents of Mira, Anuenue and Sadal Suud. It was likely that he would be treated to harsh words and xenophobia on sight, and that no one would trust him… that was ok, he was a traitor, wasn't he? And he would have to meet their king… oh dear skies, what if the king of Diadem – was his name Ladekahn? – what if King Ladekahn was as sick and twisted as Geldoblame? Dear Skies, there wouldn't be anything left of the fragile little redhead within a week if that were the case…

But for now, all he could do, as helpless as he was, was to sit back and hope for the best, to try and get some sleep and to not dwell on the horrors that he was sure he would face on arriving in Diadem come tomorrow.