by David Debord
Tabars pressed his fist to his heart in salute. “Highness.”
“I no longer hold that title. You know that.”
Tabars looked down at his feet. “I don’t know what else to call you.”
“Call me Lerryn. After all these years, you’ve earned that much and more.” He greeted each in turn and then stood back, arms folded. “I assume you didn’t stumble upon my by accident. What do you want?”
Hierm cleared his throat. “Your brother sent us. Sent me, Hair, and Edrin, that is. We sort of picked up Colin and Tabars along the way.”
Hierm then launched into a lengthy explanation, by the end of which, Lerryn wondered if perhaps he should start drinking again. Of course, the very thought of strong drink made him want to wretch. Whatever Shanis Malan had done to him, it had worked thoroughly.
He considered all that Hierm had told him: Lerryn’s father was dying, there was no proof of his abdication, the temple appeared to be plotting against the royal family, and Galdora’s forces were stretched to the breaking point.
“You are needed in Archstone, Highness,” Hierm said.
“Don’t call me that.” Lerryn knew how peevish he must sound, but he didn’t care. “I abdicated, remember?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t recall anything of the sort.” Tabars grinned wickedly.
“Nor do I.” Hierm scratched his head in mock-thoughtfulness. “Does anyone remember hearing anything about an abdication?” Grinning, the others shook their heads. “Unless you have it in writing...” Hierm shrugged.
“Mind your tongue when speaking to your prince.” The words were out before Lerryn even realized what he was saying. No one replied. There was no need. “I can’t do it,” he said after a long silence. He turned a pleading look to Tabars. “You know what I was like.”
“Yes, I do. On your worst day, you were the finest commander and best fighter I ever knew. No one can lead men like you can.”
Lerryn grimaced. “I drank too much, I trusted the wrong people. I was weak.”
“But that’s not who you are now,” Colin said. “I saw what you did in Galsbur. You were the very picture of what a leader should be. And look at what you’ve done here. You raised an entire army without even intending to if the men I’ve spoken to are to be believed.”
“They follow me because I’m a fighter. That’s all I’m fit for.”
“Begging your pardon,” Max said, “but I’m one of those men and it’s a sight more than that. You command, but you also listen and take counsel. You’re fair in your decisions and in the way you treat us. Besides that, there’s just something about you. You make the people around you braver, you make us believe. I should have seen you for what you were.”
“You are meant to lead,” Tabars said. “You can stay out here leading a small group of men and fighting small skirmishes and tell yourself it’s payment enough, but if you truly want to make amends to Galdora for your past sins, real or imagined, do it by serving her in the greatest capacity possible. Take up the mantle of First Prince and give all you are and all you have to your nation.”
Lerryn felt his resistance crumbling, yet he stubbornly held on to his doubts.
“I shall consider what you say, but we have more pressing concerns at the moment. Van Derin, I want you, Edrin, and Hair to get to Archstone with all due haste. I’m sure at least one of my men knows the quickest route to get there. Make certain Larris knows there’s a large Kyrinian army coming at them from the northwest. If our forces are concentrated in the northeast, it’s possible they are completely unaware of this particular threat, despite my hopes to the contrary. Tell him I’ll do all I can to slow them down but I can’t hope to defeat them. Unless he can get help, either from our own forces or from our allies, it will be up to him to defend the city. The entire war might depend on him.”
Chapter 31
“You can no go by yourself,” Granlor protested. “This place be far too dangerous.”
They stood inside the dark corridor that ran through Karkwall’s outer walls. It was through this very passageway that Shanis and her friends had escaped their imprisonment in the dungeons beneath the castle.
“You presume to tell me, your queen, what to do?” Shanis felt like a fool saying this, but it gained the desired result.
“No, but I must keep you safe. I did make a vow.”
She could tell by his resolute stare that he would not be moved. She had half expected that.
“I’m going too.” Gillen’s face was pale, but her tone was firm.
“Fine, you can both go with me, but don’t do anything to draw attention to yourselves.”
“You mean like carrying a giant sword across your back?” Granlor nodded at the hilt of the Silver Serpent that jutted up over her shoulder.
“Right. Well, it can’t be helped. I have to have it with me if I have any hope of succeeding. Besides, if all goes as planned, no one will see us until we’re inside the throne room.”
“We are going inside the castle?”
“How else am I going to kill Orbrad? Devin here will show us the way.” She pointed to the grizzled warrior who had just stepped out of the darkness. He was a member of the Order of the Fox who had made contact with Horgris after the battle. “Now, stop your yammering and come with me.” Before he could argue she started off down the corridor.
“I don’t remember much about my escape from Karkwall,” she said to Devin. “We escaped from the dungeons through a tunnel that led into a stable. From there, Martrin took us into a different passageway and led us through the outer wall where we met Horgris.”
“I know just the way,” he assured her.
As they walked, the silence enveloped her, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Was this the proper course of action? What if she died or was taken prisoner? What then would hold Malgog and Monaghan together? Had she, once again, let her impulsive nature take over? Perhaps, but she could not abide the thought of more lives lost unnecessarily. She had to reach Orbrad and either make him see sense or, if she had to, end his life and, with it, his rule.
Of course, that came with its own set of problems. If it came to killing him, could she even do it? Execute someone? She had to. It would be wrong to make someone else do it for her though the thought turned her stomach.
“What will you do about the princess?” Granlor whispered.
She winced. She still had not made up her mind about Orbrad’s fifteen-year-old daughter.
“If she lives, she will be a threat to your crown.”
“No, she won’t,” Shanis snapped. “My line is from Badla. Orbrad is a pretender. Once he is dethroned, it won’t matter what his child does.”
“She is old enough to marry,” Gillen said. “You could arrange it. But you would have to choose someone you trust. Perhaps a prince from somewhere far away.”
Her stomach fluttered at the words “marry” and “prince.” Thoughts of Larris flooded her mind and she was thankful for the darkness that hid her blushing. If she succeeded, she would be the queen of Lothan— royalty, just the same as Larris. The greatest obstacle standing in their path would be removed.
“The way out is just up ahead.” Devin’s voice jolted her thoughts back to the present. “Let me take a look.”
A sliver of gray light sketched the shape of a door only to be blotted out by his dark frame. “The way is clear at the moment,” he said. “Here is my suggestion. Many in Karkwall believe tonight will be their last night on this world. There has been a fair bit of carousing and wenching. I don’t expect many to be on high alert, no matter what orders the king has given.” He paused. “Stay close to me and Granlor. If we encounter anyone between here and the street, he and I will pretend to be deep in our cups and the two of you will be our...”
“Whores?” Gillen asked.
Devin coughed into his closed fist. “You’d only be pretending, my lady.”
Gillen chuckled. “It’s fine by me. Let’s go.”
Smiling, D
evin pushed the door open, slipped an arm around the witch woman, and stepped outside. Granlor reached for Shanis.
“Don’t touch me with any body part you don’t want cut off,” she warned. “I’ll stay close to you,” she added, regretting her shortness with the young man who had done nothing since she met him save try to keep her safe.
“Do you want me to carry your sword?” he asked. “It would look less suspicious if I wore it.”
“No. I want it close at hand should I need it.” The sword was useless to anyone but her. No one else could so much as hold it without experiencing excruciating pain. Granlor was correct, though. If she wore it across her back, no one would believe their ruse. She pulled the scabbard off of her shoulder and leaned on the oversized sword like a walking staff. In the darkness, with Granlor close to her side, it just might work.
It felt odd strolling casually down the street, knowing someone could put a bolt or arrow in her back at any moment. Once again, she questioned the wisdom of her decision.
Gillen seemed to read her thoughts. “Do you wish me to cast the web of protection?”
Shanis considered the question. “Not unless it seems as if we are in immediate danger. Save your strength.”
They strode along through the cold night. Here and there they spotted people moving in the darkness, but no one took notice of them. It felt as if a pall were cast over the city as if all of Karkwall held its collective breath.
“The stable is close by,” Devin said. He quickened his pace and the others hurried to keep up. The stable was in sight when a voice rang out in the darkness, stopping them short.
“Devin, what are you about?” A rangy man in palace livery leaned against the alley wall. He held a mug in both hands but seemed sober.
“Hello, Nigel. We’re just having a bit of fun on the last night of my life.” Devin cast a meaningful glance at Shanis and Gillen.
“It won’t be my last night. If it goes badly, I’ll surrender first thing. They say that girl is a wild one, but she doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
Shanis gripped her sword but held her tongue.
“Don’t let anyone hear you say that,” Devin warned. “They’ll have you in chains for sure.”
“True enough.” Nigel cocked his head and frowned at Granlor. “I don’t believe I know you.”
Granlor nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve seen you about. I suppose I’m not very memorable.” He covered his Monaghan accent and dialect well.
Nigel nodded slowly. “I’m sure we’ve passed another on the street at some point. Well, I’ll not keep you from your fun. But I don’t think there’s a room available anywhere in the city. The ones that aren’t being used to tend the wounded are filled up with men like yourselves.”
“Oh, I think the stable will do fine for us.” Devin reached out and pinched Gillen on the rump.
As soon as Nigel had wandered out of sight, Gillen drove an elbow into Devin’s ribs. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I had to make it look believable,” he said, rubbing his side.
“Just be glad you didn’t try that with me,” Shanis said. “Now, let’s get inside before any more of your friends arrive.”
They slipped inside the stable and closed the door behind them. Shanis breathed a sigh of relief. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but it felt good to no longer be out in the open.
“Where’s the trapdoor?” Gillen asked.
‘It’s inside the stall over there.” Devin pointed to the far corner of the stable. “But that’s not where we’re going.”
“What?” Shanis said. She realized Devin had betrayed her. She’d kill him for this! But before she could draw her sword, torches blazed to life all around her.
A dozen grim-faced men armed with crossbows surrounded them. She quickly considered the situation. There was nothing she could do. She could never summon the Silver Serpent’s power before the bolts flew. She’d foolishly walked into a death trap. Perhaps Gillen could call up the shielding spell, but one glance told her that the young bone woman had reached the same conclusion Shanis had— there was no time.
“What is this?” Shanis poured all her rage into the words.
“This, Your Majesty,” a voice said from behind her, “is how this battle ends.”
Chapter 32
Shanis turned and recognized the speaker immediately. Martrin! The man who had helped them escape from Karkwall. But he was a member of the Order of the Fox. Then again, so was Devin. Rage burned inside her. For a moment, she didn’t care if she was killed. She wanted to hurt someone.
“Traitor!” she hissed.
“No! Wait!” Martrin held up his hands. “You misunderstand. We are here to help you.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“My apologies, Majesty. I should have handled this better, but I’m so accustomed to keeping secrets that Devin didn’t even know the full plan.”
“Why don’t you tell me now?” Devin looked affronted. “You said you knew a better way in, but you didn’t mention surrounding us with armed men.”
“These men are all members of the Order of the Fox, and some of our most loyal. They will take you to Orbrad.”
“Just like that?” Shanis asked. She wanted to believe him.
“Orbrad has locked himself in his throne room and is protected by his most devoted guards. No one can get close to him.”
“So, even if I had come up through the dungeons as I intended, I’d still have to fight my way through the guards to reach him.”
“Exactly, but we have another way. Orbrad is not seeing anyone, but I think he would open his doors if we brought him the leader of the rebellion. He’s dying to put your head on a spike and hang the rest of you from the front gate.”
Granlor took a step forward. “You mean to bring her in chains?”
“I think rope will suffice,” Martrin said. “I’ll slice it almost all the way through so you can snap it at a moment’s notice.” He hesitated. “We will have to take your sword.” He eyed the Silver Serpent nervously.
Shanis considered this. She had no reason to distrust Martrin, but what did she actually know about him? Yes, he had aided her before, but if he had turned his coat, he might be taking her to her death. Then again, if he intended her harm, his men would have opened fire the moment she stepped inside the stable.
“All right,” she said. “But Granlor carries my sword.”
“Very well. He should wear this.” Martrin removed his green cloak and handed it to Granlor, who donned it and then slung the Silver Serpent over his back, being careful not to touch the hilt. “Orbrad doesn’t know my men by sight, so he won’t realize anything is amiss.” He turned to Devin and Gillen. “You two will be prisoners also. I’ll saw through your bindings as well.”
“All right, but what do we do when we get there?” Devin asked.
Martrin smiled. “Just follow my lead.”
Shanis kept her eyes straight ahead as they marched through the streets, into the palace, and up to the throne room. Inside, she was a mass of nerves. Up ahead, the guards whispered amongst themselves. Apparently, word of her supposed capture had spread, and she feared one of them might try something foolish before she could defend herself. But they only cast dark stares in her direction. One man called out something obscene, and Martrin’s men played along, laughing and making jokes about the wild girl who would be queen.
She ignored their taunts. She had more pressing things on her mind. The moment of truth neared. Her plan to kill Orbrad had seemed a simple one when she had conceived it, but the reality was something different. Killing was not entirely foreign to her. Back in Galsbur she’d stabbed to death a man who had tried to assault her, but that had happened in a moment of desperation, she’d fought to defend herself at times, and she knew lives had been lost when she’d destroyed a portion of the city wall earlier in the day, but this was something entirely different. Could she kill a man in cold blood? Could she look him in the eye and r
un her sword through his heart? Revulsion welled up inside her. She had only consented to unite the clans in order to end the clan wars and save lives. Taking Orbrad’s life ran contrary to what she stood for or tried to stand for.
The guards, apparently mistaking the expression on her face for fear, jeered.
“Not so brave now, are you sweetheart?”
“Didn’t think you’d have to pay for what you did?”
“Come over here and I’ll give you a good spanking!”
“Look at the witch. She’s an ugly one.”
Anger welled up inside her, strengthening her resolve. She raised her chin and swept a baleful gaze across their ranks. They fell silent. Not so brave, after all.
A single guard stepped forward and greeted Martrin with the ritual clenched fist across his heart. Martrin returned the greeting.
“I bring the rebel leader, Shanis Malan, to the king for the dispensation of justice,” Martrin said.
The guard looked Shanis up and down. “So this is her? Why do you need so many guards for one girl?”
“Three prisoners total.” Martrin indicated Devin and Gillen. “Both women are witches, so I thought it prudent to take added precautions.”
“That one looks familiar.” The guard frowned at Devin, trying to place him.
“A traitor. We caught him leading these two into the city.”
“Plenty of traitors about these days. Is it safe to bring them before the king?”
Martrin laughed. “They are witches, not sorcerers. They can’t cast spells if their hands are bound.”
That was patently false, but the guard, obviously not recognizing the absurdity of the statement, nodded sagely. He turned and rapped three times on the door. Moments later, the doors swung open and Martrin took Shanis by the elbow and shoved her roughly inside.
“Now,” he whispered.
Shanis yanked her wrists apart, snapping the few threads that bound them together. Behind her, crossbow bolts sang through the air and voices cried out in pain and alarm as they found their marks in the bodies of Orbrad’s guards.
