Disclaimer: All materials of the Old Kingdom, including characters, objects, places, aspects, powers, possessions, events, themes, bloodlines, concepts, and everything else, belongs to Garth Nix.

This begins after Abhorsen, after Lirael and the other seven defeat Orannis.

Please do not use any part of text without explicit permission from author or original author Garth Nix, be it ideology, plot, character, objects, places, aspects, powers, possessions, events, themes, bloodlines, concepts, etcetera.

Fourth part.

We're doing MOV – Merchant of Venice – now, for Literature, and I want to try to incorporate some themes. Like, say, Appearance versus Reality (Ellimere as a Portia-type who can suddenly become very ferocious?), Law & Justice (Ellimere, for sure), Relationships (quite a lot. I'll try to include a NEW one. Maybe Nick?), Intention VS Outcome, etc.

All the themes are applicable.

Special credits in this chapter to Ms Clarinda Choh Sok Guang, for being my Lit/EL teacher. First one to consistently give me 'C' grades for EL/Lit, too:S

Royal Preparation

The King had received unsettling news. There had been uprisings in the area surrounding Edge, and the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, Lirael, had yet to report back. He was worried for his sister-in-law, but reassured himself about the outcome – Lirael was one of the strongest of all necromancers, Charter-servants or not, and it would take an exceptionally skilled necromancer to best her in a fair fight. Like his wife, mused the King.

"Sir! Disaster!" A messenger burst into the council chamber, where a meeting was being held. Irritation was displayed in all the faces present save the Clayr's representative and the King. The King maintained a façade of serenity as he addressed the issue.

"What is it?"

"Your Majesty." The messenger seemed less flustered but more intimidated now that his King was addressing him directly. "There has been an attack –"

"Fear not. The Abhorsen-in-Waiting is at Roble's Town."

"No! Sire, the attack is on Orchyre. Two Mordicants have been observed, and the population is being slaughtered!"

"What!" This revelations drew many responses.

"How dare they!"

"The arrogance of them!"

"Let's rush out and teach them a lesson!" This was from Sir Halberton, a descendant of a family whose interest lay greatly in the Army. Indeed, Halberton was currently one of the highest officers, a General.

"Calm down. We need to deal with this in an adequately cool fashion. Anyone who thinks otherwise, any hot-headed idiot who wants to charge out may do so."

This was met with silence as all council members stared at the King, as if he had gone berserk.

"But, sir –"

"I did not say I would not take action. Just don't act rashly. Right, I think that to deal with Mordicants we need the Abhorsen. Send emissaries and messagers to inform both the Abhorsen and the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, then call Prince Sameth and Princess Ellimere up here."

"Princess Ellimere!?"

The King shot Halberton a cold stare, and Halberton winced. "Ellimere shall deal with the regal and bureaucratic affairs. I shall go forth, with Sameth and two companies to quell, or distract, the threat. At any rate, we will have to rescue the living still trapped in Orchyre. Are there any issues?"

The nobles muttered but did not object. "Very well, I shall take my leave now." Sometimes, Army men could be incredibly thick. Charter help all of them if that popinjay ever got to make any important decisions. Even now, the King could see that the idiot was fuming. That was better than having more dead people. If an army was sent instead of powerful mages or Abhorsens, then there'd be more food for the Free Magic creatures, more bodies for necromancers. Fools would be fools.

The King immediately rose, and the doors were opened. Sameth was already outside, and Touchstone could see that there were two lines of honor guard lined up. The messenger walked behind the King, and joined the King's forces.

As the King departed, Halberton and the other nobles remained in the council room, staring at each other. They rose, after a while, and were about to depart as another messenger burst through.

"Milord, there is another assault-"

"Yes, yes, the King has gone to deal with it." Halberton was clearly in a foul mood.

"Wait. This could be something else." Lady Cynthia kindly turned to the man, giving Halberton a quelling glance. "What is it now?"

"The Southern Plateau –"

"Yes, yes, the Abhorsen-in-Waiting has gone to deal –"

Lady Cynthia gave Halberton an admonishing look, but before she could speak, the messenger voiced his opinion.

"Stop bloody interrupting!" There was a stunned silence and Halberton turned puce, spluttering. The messenger, however, carried on.

"The towns Uppside and Ganel are under invasion. The Abhorsen-in-Waiting went to Uppside, according to the villagers of Roble's Town. Our contingent stationed nearby went to Uppside to stop the Dead and render aid to the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, and we managed to battle off the Dead. Most were dying already anyway."

"Then, we found the body of the necromancer somewhere north of the village. He was quite dead, and he had a slight smile on his face. We found milady Abhorsen-in-Waiting nearby, facing him, in a diamond of protection. But she was in Death, and she would not deign to respond when we attempted to communicate that the Dead were quelled."

"She seemed as if she was struggling, but we couldn't help her. The only ones with the mark there were me, Evans, Lark and Karen, so we cast a second, bigger diamond of protection to help the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, but we could do no more."

"The rest of the contingent are now engaging the Dead in Ganel. I was sent to report."

"My report is delivered. If there is nothing else, I will take my leave."

Lady Cynthia prodded Sir Halberton.

He made off, but Halberton said, "Wait." He seemed to be struggling with himself, and then he managed to splutter out something that sounded vaguely like a strangled "Sorry."

The messenger gave him an inquisitive look, then strode out briskly.

"What do we do now?"

Halberton thought for a while, then his eyes glittered. "In the absence of the King, as General of the Army and representative for our armed forces, I recommend sending two entire contingents to the Southern Plateau to quell all enemy forces, and to root out the problem."

The other councilors eyed each other warily, before assenting. Halberton was clearly making hay while the sun shone, but none of them dared to act without confirmation of allies. Halberton was sharp – he immediately knew the nature of the ambience, and he sought to exploit it fully. One by one, the councilors reluctantly agreed. The representative of the Clayr was lost in a vision, and hardly seemed to hear them. She was ancient, anyway, and none of the councilors there trusted her judgment.

"Very well. I shall lead the forces myself."

Meanwhile, the Master was receiving news.

"Hmm. The King is moving. Hmm, hmm." The Master mused to himself as his brain worked out a strategy. "I'll have the Mordicants –"

"Don't be an idiot!" The shard hissed at his complacency. "The report states that Belgaer is going, as well!"

"What? Oh, the Prince? He's a fine fighter, but no match for a Mordicant!"

"Fool!" The shard spat contemptuously. "They'll force your servants into submission, then they'll find us. How are we to face Ranna, Mosrael, Dyrim, Belgaer, Saraneth and Astarael all at once? Even if Dyrim and Mosrael don't make an appearance, four is enough to reseal what's left of me and bind you!"

"Now you're the fool. Goldenhand is locked in Death, bound by the spell I taught Balthos, and the Abhorsen is secreted in the Glacier. The Clayr won't come down personally – they'll be too busy in that cave of theirs – and the King will return to reign alongside the Princess. The Prince will be making trinkets, and nobody will bother us!"

The shard snarled. The Master jumped up in surprise and pain, spasmodically writhing, then calmed down. "Don't try that again or I'll go directly and give you up!"

"You wouldn't dare," sneered the shard. "I'm your only hope of returning you your original powers and stature. If you do that, you'll only condemn yourself."

Indeed, the Master could not currently betray the shard now, no more than the shard betray the Master. For they were dependent on each other – the shard on the Master's servitors' blood to sustain itself and keep itself free of a certain binding, the Master on the shard's advice and experience, as well as its powers.

"Try me. And this is just wasting my precious time. What would you have me do, then?" The tone was defiant, but it was clear that the Master was making an excuse.

The shard did not pursue the matter. They were in private, anyway, and such bickering would only yield the same result in the end. The difference would be the time wasted. "Go personally, to north of Orchyre. Intercept Ranna in a disguise, and finish her. Then retreat – Belgaer will not go down as easily, and Dyrim will be nearby."

Helmfro snorted at that. It was just two individuals, and it surprised him that the shard thought so little of his powers. Granted that they were both royalty, but that wasn't saying anything. Well, then he would have to show the shard how capable he was. He assented immediately, thinking of how he would savor the moment where he slew the King. It would be sweet, sweet revenge.

"No need for disguise. I can just finish both."

"Disguise yourself. Or I'll not help you."

"How bothersome. There's no point, but I'll do it, so stop breathing down my neck, literally or not."

The shard, if it could, would have sighed to itself. The Master's hubris would be the end of him. Once, the shard would have bent such mortal and undead servants to his will, and not tolerated any such defiance and daring.

But that was in the past. Some of his power had been spent in the second binding, and he was not what he was before. Indeed, now he had only one last chance at survival, and he needed all the assistance he could get.

The Master strode from his room, nodded at the guards Anarchiel and Borthin, then commanded them to join Ariel in the instruction of the new acolytes, His senior necromancers were spread thin, and the Master fully intended to incorporate four new councilors.

The Master now regretted his earlier decision regarding Kanneth, and the only outward show of it was a slight bow. Kanneth's skills lay in deception, masking, and cloaking, and would never have been a logical choice for a frontline battle. He was merely keeping his pride intact by keeping Kanneth off his feet. That had cost dearly.

"Regretting it finally, eh?"

"Shut up. He was dispensable."

"Try saying that again when all of them are gone."

"Shut up." The Master was now half as tall as he was before.

"And think of a name as we go along."

A dark shape was observed moving impossibly fast, from the Southern Plateau, in the general direction of Orchyre.

Well, how is it that the Master can move so quickly? And, yes, in the two chapters it'll be Appearance VS Reality as the featured theme! Next up I'll have Lirael rescued – she's missing too much action!