Fate of the Tyrant (The Eoriel Saga Book 3)

by Kal Spriggs

  Amelia snorted at that, "Hardly, father. He's a skilled fighter and an honest young man, but he's common born. He's holding onto the blade until he can find someone worthy to protect it."

  "Does Lady Katarina know?" Her father asked intently.

  "No," Amelia said, "he didn't know himself at first. I don't know if he would tell her or not, though." She had sensed that Aerion had feelings for Lady Katarina, but she didn't know if those feelings would make him more likely to tell her or less.

  "I ask because Lady Katarina gave an oath to help restore the High Kings to power," Christoffer said. His gaze went distant, "She's also how I came to bear the Ducal Blade of Boir... and part of how they saddled me with this job."

  Amelia's eyes went wide as she realized the repercussions. The five Ducal Blades, in conjunction with the Starblade were the symbols of authority from the High Kingdom. Other artifacts had ceremonial value, but those six swords were some of the most powerful weapons ever created and with her knowledge as the Enchantress, she knew that they were intricately tied with both spiritual and runic magic to the bloodlines and spirits of the Five Duchies.

  The Ducal Blade of Boir had been lost since the time of the Sundering, when her own ancestor had killed his father, Grand Duke Gustav. That it had resurfaced now, of all times, was a sign that forces were at work. That it had come to her father, brought by a woman who had sworn an oath to the High Kings...

  It means that we have many forces at play, she thought to herself, not just the Vendakar and Andoral Elhonas, but spirits and men who seek to restore that which was broken. She didn't know if that was even possible. The previous Enchantress had never set eyes upon the Starblade and had only a rough idea how the Wizard Noth had wrought his greatest work. She knew more about the preceding Dragon Kings, but only because of proximity to their former seat of power.

  "Obviously we've already proven the importance of establishing lines of communication," Amelia said as she shook her head. She herself had been stunned to find out that Aerion carried the sundered Starblade. To now learn that he was in service of a woman sworn to the High Kings...

  "Yes, quite," Her father said. He looked over at Simonel and Amelia could see him hesitate. "Is that your full intent, then? To share information?"

  Simonel nodded in return, "For now, that is all I am prepared to do." He nodded at Amelia, "As your daughter knows, my people are constrained in what we may do, by both ancient treaty and by custom."

  "Very well," Christoffer said. He looked between Amelia and Simonel, "What other information do you have?"

  Amelia sighed, "I believe that Xavien has become the Herald of Andoral Elhonas." Siara hissed in surprise and Amelia's father went a bit pale. Amelia glanced at her husband and when Simonel nodded, she continued, "I suspect that he plans to marshal an army of Armen, outcast tribes who will have been pushed out of their lands over the winter. This will be the vanguard of an invasion force, a first wave sent to shatter defenses and cause chaos and disorder. If that second wave succeeds, Andoral Elhonas will order all the Armen south in a far more massive invasion."

  "I see," Christoffer said with a glance at Siara. "Where will this attack fall?"

  Amelia hesitated. This was something that she and Simonel had discussed. She didn't know how her father would respond. "I think Xavien plans to attack the Duchy of Masov, first, while they are weakened from their civil war. When and if he finds success there, he will capitalize upon it and attack here." She didn't mention the possibility that some of the Kalakhi Salvet Khis would follow Xavien's orders and might join in such an attack. That wasn't any of his business.

  For whatever reason, her father's face went hard. "He plans to attack the Usurper Duke, then?" If she didn't know better, she would almost say that he looked satisfied by that news.

  "Given the magnitude of the threat," Simonel said, "I would advise some kind of alliance between yourselves and the leaders of Masov."

  "Oh," Christoffer said in a grim tone, "I've had an alliance with Duke Hector of Masov. It didn't end well at all." He shook his head, "But I take your point. I will pass this information on to Lady Katarina, but I doubt any alliance will come of it." He pursed his lips, "The word we've had from merchants trading there is that they've gone from a minor insurrection to full civil war. If I made active alliance with Katarina and landed forces to support her, it would be seen as an invasion and nobles and commoners alike would flock to Hector's banner."

  He shook his head, "No, I'll pass the information along, but it will be up to the two of them to settle their differences."

  Amelia sighed at that, but it was about what she had expected. It could have been worse. Grand Duke Beckett probably wouldn't have sent word.

  "I do have some additional information I can share," Her father said. "I'll need to get with my advisers to discuss things. In the meantime, perhaps you would like to get some rest?" Simonel and Amelia both nodded. "Amelia, would you mind staying for a short time?"

  "I'll show Simonel to the guest quarters we've set aside," Siara said. Amelia waited as the woman led the way out.

  After the shuffle of armsmen and warriors, Amelia and her father shared a mostly private room, save for Gervais and Gantarel. Her father stared at her with brooding eyes, "Well, I could always tell when you had something to say... out with it."

  Amelia shook her head, "She seems nice enough, father... but an Armen woman? How old is she, fifteen cycles?"

  Her father rubbed a weary hand across his face, "I suppose I could ask you a similar question... according to the legends, Wold can live thousands of cycles... how old is your new husband? Do I seem like a child to him? If so… what does that make you?"

  Amelia pursed her lips and glared back at him. "The two circumstances are very different, father!"

  "Are they?" He arched an eyebrow in return. "I married Siara because I respect and love her. It may well be the only selfish decision I ever made... but I still think it is the right one. She's saved my life at least once, she has proven herself in every way that matters."

  He waved a hand in dismissal, "I have seen your letter. I know that he saved your life... but to choose to live among the Wold? By legend they are a fierce and animalistic people. Violence is in their blood."

  Amelia met his gaze levelly, "Do not ever use that word again, father, because I am as much a part of the Kalakhi Salvet Khis as I am of Boir now. That word has meaning... and if you want to establish yourself as their enemy, thinking of them as the Viani have is the way to do it. Things have changed, father, and we have to change with them."

  Her father shook his head, "It seems that things have changed quite a bit." He took a deep breath, "I'll admit, learning you survived the first attack here at the Citadel was a surprise. Seeing you here now is even more of one. Do not mistake some of what I've said for displeasure... it is all just a lot to take in."

  "Yes," Amelia nodded as she looked around his suite, the Duke's Quarters. "I would not have imagined you rising to this position. I know you worked hard in the Navy... but this?" She shook her head. "It's a great deal to think about." She looked at the closed door through which Siara had left. "I suppose, in the end, the only question that matters is if she makes you happy."

  Her father gave a broad smile, "That, I can answer as a yes." His gaze went to her, "And this King Simonel of... of the Eastwood, does he make you happy?"

  Amelia returned the smile, "Yes, father, he makes me very happy.

  ***

  King Simonel Greeneye

  "Does your husband know that you worship Andoral Elhonas?" Simonel asked in the tongue of the Solak Armen. It was one of many languages his father had bid him study.

  Siara glanced over at him, "He does." She answered him in her own tongue, a confirmation that he had correctly identified her tribe.

  "So the news that his youngest son serves your lord, did that come as a surprise?" Simonel asked. "Or is it something you already knew?" He kept his tone level and watched her carefully. He
had noticed the signs of spellgrafts and had spotted at least one dagger on her.

  Siara gave him a slight shrug, "As an unmarried daughter, I would have been the last person to be told such things. I cannot say that the idea surprises me entirely. My husband has greatness in his blood. Clearly his son carried enough of that greatness to impress the Dark Warrior."

  "What does that mean to you, since Xavien is your husband's enemy... yet is the Herald of the Kingslayer?" Simonel asked.

  Siara turned and for a second, he saw a flash of anger in her eyes. When she spoke, she used the southtongue, "These, King Simonel, are your quarters. They should be more than adequate for you and your people. Please let me know if you have any special needs."

  "I would like an answer," Simonel replied.

  "My loyalty is to my husband, first and foremost," Siara said. "Xavien has made his father his enemy. He tortured his own brother to death and I know more than enough about ritual magic to guess at what he did to his sister to attack your lands." The eyes of the two armsmen went wide and Simonel realized that she had chosen to answer him in southtongue.

  "What he did to his siblings he did to hurt his father, which means he would do the same or worse to my own children," Siara said. "I can oppose Xavien with a clean conscience. He is a man and men make mistakes." She gave him a nod, "Even the Dark Warrior made mistakes. He may speak for the Dark Warrior, but he is not Him."

  "If you have any further questions," Siara said with a slight smile, "please ask me in southtongue. Your syntax in Armen is terrible." Simonel heard Nanamak chuckle as the woman turned and walked away.

  ***

  Sir Gervais Wachter

  He had never seen his grandfather speechless before, yet the old warrior had a shocked look to his face that made Gervais wonder if he should seek one of the Order's healers. His grandfather was of Starborn ancestry and in good health, but heart failure due to shock affected them as much as any man.

  After a long moment, though, Sir Frederick let out a deep breath. "That is quite the profound bit of information. I'm afraid it will take me some moments to consider it fully. I almost wish I'd heard this a bit earlier in the day, as it is, I don't think I'll sleep much tonight."

  "I'm sorry, sir," Gervais said. "I know I should have brought this to you as soon as I'd heard, but the Grand Duke asked me to wait..."

  Sir Frederick waved a hand, "No, no. He had the right of it. A few more hours for him to tell his select advisers will not be an issue, either way. Also, you gave him your oath as armsman. For a matter like this, you are pulled in two directions, but I think you chose the correct path."

  "What will the Order do?" Gervais asked.

  His grandfather gave a hearty chuckle, "That, by dear boy is the great question, is it not?" He shook his head, "As the Grand Duke said, to assume the Starblade has been rediscovered by coincidence under such circumstances pushes the boundaries of reason. Combined with other reports we've heard... well, it only confirms that we live in truly momentous times."

  "Other reports?" Gervais asked. He had heard rumors about what other knights had encountered, but this seemed like a confirmation.

  His grandfather gave him a shrewd look. "Indeed. Rumors that old spirits have awoken. Other artifacts have been found. Boir's Ducal Blade you already knew... but there are other signs too." Sir Frederick took a deep breath, "This is something that we will need to investigate. If this is truly the Starblade, then we will need to verify. No matter what else, I know we will send someone to seek out this Aerion fellow and discover if he truly bears the Starblade. If that is the case, we will need to take it for safekeeping, at least until a proper bearer can be found, of course."

  Gervais frowned as he thought about that, "What happens if this boy doesn't turn it over?"

  Sir Frederick frowned. He didn't speak for a long moment. When he did speak, his voice held a grim note, "From what you heard, the spirit of Southwatch selected him to safeguard it, but only until a better guardian could be found. We are the rightful guardians of the history of the High Kings. We are sworn to their service. The Starblade may only be borne by a Knight of the Order. If this Aerion won't accept that... then we'll have no choice but to take it from him by force."

  ***

  Grand Duke Christoffer Tarken

  The Citidel, Boirton, Duchy of Boir

  28th of Sopar, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

  Christoffer watched from the pier as the low, rakish vessel slipped out of the harbor and soon enough, vanished in the rain. He paid little attention to the cold rain that tricked down the back of his cloak and that pattered and rattled off the armor of his armsmen.

  At last, though, as the last traces of the odd vessel disappeared, he turned without a word and climbed into the waiting carriage. "Back to the Citidel," he said.

  Siara raised an eyebrow at him from where she sat. "You look sad," she said.

  "My daughter has become an adult," Christoffer said. In truth, he felt pride in how she had grown... yet he also felt a great deal of uncertainty. There had been more than one odd moment in her company, when she said or mentioned things that she either shouldn't have known or adopted a perspective that seemed at alien to him.

  She had told him that she had been transformed into one of the "People of the Eastwood." She had hinted at the fact that the changes were far from complete. Christoffer feared that the changes were far more profound than even she realized... and he wondered if there would be anything left of the daughter he had known when that transformation ran its course.

  "You didn't share the news about your fleet," Siara said.

  Christoffer gave her a level look, "No, no I did not." The Admiralty had spent the past few months preparing sailors, Marines, equipment, supplies, and ships for an attack on Admiral Hennings. The plan rested in great part upon surprise. A surprise assault down the Ryft in order to catch Lord Admiral Hennings' picket forces by surprise. From there, the entirety of his fleet would move on Freeport, first isolating it and then landing troops in order to seize the entire town.

  It was an ambitious plan, one that they had spent months in perfecting. The rescue of Trelhaven had acted as a small-scale rehearsal.

  Yet that same fleet and same force could go north instead of south. He could hit Xavien's army, could scatter them... yet it would be an effort to save the Usurper, the very man who had betrayed Christoffer and caused the deaths of five hundre Marines and sailors under his command at Arkavar.

  "I wonder if that is because you didn't trust her or because you would not like to have her disapprove of your decision," Siara asked in a light tone.

  "Now, that is a loaded question," Christoffer responded. He met his wife's gaze, "If I didn't know better, I almost think you would agree with her arguments." In truth, part of why he hadn't told Amelia about the fleet was that it would have disappointed her.

  "Not in the least," Siara answered. "I think it would be foolish to save the Usurper's life. My people call him Hall Prakka, the Cold Warrior. He would show no more gratitude for your assistance than a snake, and he would be as likely to bite you afterward. It is his nature."

  Christoffer nodded, yet his daughter's warning remained on his mind. "If Xavien assaults the Duchy of Masov while they are divided, he might well conquer those lands."

  Siara shook her head, "My people have attacked hundreds, perhaps thousands of times. Even before the rise of the High Kings, we never came close to conquest of an entire Duchy."

  Christoffer frowned at that. Some of the oldest military histories painted things in a very different light. In fact, the arrival of the Starbornhad come at a time when all the Five Duchies were in peril of collapse and the reign of the Dragon Kings had begun to wane. Still, it wasn't something he wanted to argue just now. "Xavien is my son, therefore he is my responsibility."

  Siara rolled her eyes at that. "He has made his own decisions. For that matter, he is his mother's son. If he's anyone's responsibility, he would be hers: she would be the one who
made him a monster. You can't keep beating yourself over him... when would you be free of him?"

  "When he is dead," Christoffer answered.

  Siara looked away. "You know that if you change your plans, if you go after him, it would be a personal decision. You will put the lives of your men and the fate of Boir at risk over this."

  Christoffer nodded, "I know. That is the big question: which is the greater threat to my people?" He shook his head, "I know that Lord Admiral Hennings has let ambition blind him to questions of ethics. Everything I've seen says that he has murdered, lied, conspired against, and betrayed anyone who has stood between him and power."

  Christoffer's gaze went out the carriage window, where the homes and shops of Boirton flowed past. "He made an alliance with Xavien, bargained with Norics and Armen..." Christoffer shook his head, "His wife may well dabble in sorcery and her family's ties to Emperor Dalton suggest plenty of ambition on her part as well."

  At its root, all of this was a family problem. Lord Admiral Hennings was his brother-in-law by marriage. Hennings’ wife, Lady Lindsee, was sister to Christoffer's deceased wife. Xavien was Christoffer's son. Christoffer's late wife had dabbled in sorcery, had probably possessed mental abilities that had allowed her to hide her crimes. In all likelihood, Lady Lindsee possessed those same abilities and interests.

  Given the history of Emperor Dalton's rise with those same powers as well as Lord Admiral Hennings' obvious ambition... could Christoffer risk moving against Xavien?

  Either one of them had the resources and abilities to become tyrants. The only question became which one was more of a threat. Christoffer had no illusions about splitting his forces or attacking both in quick succession. If he went north, he could attack Xavien's forces after they committed themselves. If he went south, he could surprise and overwhelm Hennings' forces before they realized what had happened.