by Jack Conner
At last, his gaze fixed on the bundle, Evergard said, “And what, sir, did you find?”
With a jerk that made many gasp, Raugst tore off the ribbon that bound the short stack of letters. At their gasps, he had to resist another smile. He had always had a flair for drama.
Triumphantly, he held up a letter. “This, my good Lord Evergard, is a communiqué from Vrulug, the wolf-lord of infamy, to our dear, beloved King Ulea.”
“Preposterous,” Evergard said. Nevertheless, he took this opportunity to retake his seat. Perhaps his legs had gone weak.
Raugst passed the letter to Duke Hored on his right. The Duke scanned the letter, shook his head and cursed quietly, then passed it on.
“What does it say?” someone asked him tensely.
Duke Hored, frowning, glanced from Raugst to the questioner. “It’s as Lord Wesrain says. A letter from Vrulug to the King. It congratulates Lord Ulea for having the sense to join the side of Oslog and for turning to the One for guidance.” He took a deep breath, let it out. “It bears Vrulug’s signature and seal.”
Many people at the table paled. They glanced at each other nervously. Duke Evergard’s hands shook as he at last took the letter and examined it. When he finished, his hands twitched as if he wished to tear the letter apart. Instead, he grimaced and passed it on. He lifted his gaze to Raugst’s, then dropped it. “Madness,” was all he could say.
Raugst said in a steady voice, “These are grave times, my friends. Not even the ground is stable. Why should people be? All the might of Oslog is poised to overwhelm us, and even our most worthy individuals are pledging their loyalty to the Beast.” He sneered as he said this last word, making sure that his guests knew how much he hated Gilgaroth even as he spoke treason against the King. Sadly, he shook his head and added, “We cannot let this be. King Ulea must be dethroned, and his family removed from any chance at the crown.”
“Why?” asked Duke Hored, looking grieved beyond measure. Raugst was wryly amused. Duke Hored was a leading member of the recent converts.
“Because these letters indicate that King Ulea has passed his corrupt ways on to his family.” Raugst thumped the remaining letters at his elbow. He passed them to the duke, who examined them, grunted his acceptance, and passed them on.
“What are you saying, man?” Lord Evergard demanded. “Are you implying that we should overthrow the King?”
Raugst leveled his eyes at Evergard. “I am not implying it, good sir. I am demanding it. It is the only reasonable course of action. He is a traitor to Felgrad who will deliver our kingdom to the Enemy.”
Evergard looked at him suspiciously. “And I suppose you think we should install you on the throne in his stead.”
Again, Raugst resisted the urge to smirk. Evergard was admitting his agreement that the King must be removed from power. Now it was all a matter of bargaining for leverage.
“I do,” Raugst said calmly. “It was I that drove Vrulug away, I who have learned how to combat his forces. And it is I who rule the largest and most prosperous barony in the land. Who else could possibly be better suited to the task? And, of course, you have my word to step down as soon as the hostilities have ended, assuming a better candidate for the seat has been found.”
Evergard said nothing, but that in itself was a victory. There was much talking and debate after that, and Raugst let it run its course, only interrupting at times. Meanwhile the recent converts spread their support of Raugst’s plans, and it was not very long before the gathering as a whole reluctantly agreed to his proposal. In fact, they came to the conclusion that King Ulea should be dethroned even more quickly than Raugst had anticipated. Well done, Raugst, old boy, he congratulated himself. And thank you for your letters, Vrulug.
Saria seemed proud, and her eyes were adoring as they gazed upon him. Still, she did not completely trust him, he noticed; she never ate or drank anything that he had not already sampled.
Watching the faces of his guests, Raugst had to admit that he had truly enjoyed this performance. Now for the distasteful part: following through.
“Very well, then, friends,” he said, and at the sound of his voice the conspirators instantly quieted and turned to him. “We shall remove the traitor from the throne. Let us drink to victory!”
“Here! Here!”
Raugst lifted his glass in a toast to regicide.
Three days after the feast, word reached Raugst that the bridge over the Pit of Eresine had been rebuilt. Vrulug was leading his great host northward, razing everything that was still standing in his path. Raugst was hard pressed to find room and food for the new flood of refugees. More and more turned to desperate acts to earn coin. People joked that there were more whores in Thiersgald than soldiers, and more thieves than whores, and Raugst was not sure they were wrong.
He was prepared. He and King Ulea had long since established a dialogue. The King had offered to aid Fiarth some weeks before, but Raugst had put him off. Originally, Raugst had done this because he wanted Vrulug to prevail, but after Niara’s fateful kiss he had stalled the King, telling him that Fiarth could look after its own. The truth was that he needed more time to organize the conspiracy that would bring Lord Ulea down.
That time was now. As soon as Raugst heard word that Vrulug was marching over the Pit of Eresine, he sent word to the King, and the King sent word to him. It all happened very quickly after that. Raugst invited the King and his host to meet with him in Thiersgald, where the battle with Vrulug would surely be joined, being as it was the southernmost large city still standing, and King Ulea agreed. He was a goodly man, so all said, and Raugst felt ill at the thought of destroying him. Yet if that sacrifice saved Felgrad, it would be worth it. Surely even King Ulea would agree should he know the truth of the matter.
So it was that in seven days after news of Vrulug’s march reached Raugst’s ears, King Heril Ulea IV and his host of twenty thousand arrived at Thiersgald. Raugst stood on the wall near the North Gate, watching them steam over the gently rolling plain. King Ulea and the troops of his region wore silver armor lined with gold, and they were an impressive sight indeed, all bright and dazzling, sparkling under the sun like a river of mercury against the green rolling hills. There were other companies, as well, for the King had summoned every army from every barony and dukedom in the country to him, but the King’s men rode in the fore.
The people of Thiersgald were permitted to stand upon the wall alongside the soldiers and watch their saviors pour in. There was much of cheering and joyful weeping.
Raugst ordered the Gate opened, and King Ulea, at the head of his host, rode into Thiersgald atop his chestnut stallion. Raugst climbed down from the wall, mounted his own black charger and met the King in the city square known as Edrin’s Court.
King Ulea wore not silver armor chased with gold as his soldiers did, but gold chased with silver, with a golden helmet sporting a silver crest. The effect was breathtaking, as though he were some golden god of war suddenly materialized in the city square. The monarch smiled, his dark red beard parting to reveal thick, even white teeth, and he and Raugst closed the distance and clasped wrists. Raugst saw more gray in the man’s hair than he had expected, and pock marks above his beard, but for all that the King’s grip was firm, and the way he stared Raugst in the eye made Raugst sit up straighter. To his amusement, sweat actually began to bead his brow.
“Well met, Lord King,” Raugst said. “Though grim times bring you here, may your time in Thiersgald be joyful.”
The King nodded judiciously. “I’m sure they shall be.” He regarded Raugst in silence a moment, frowning. Then, at last, he nodded. “Yes, you will do fine, I think. Grieved I was to hear of Lord Wesrain’s passing, and the passing of his sons nearly devastated me. But at least Fiarth had you, waiting in the wings as it were, to take the throne when needed.”
I’m not done taking thrones yet. Raugst bowed his head. “Your words honor me, though I’m not sure I’m worthy.”
“Time will tell. Le
t us march.”
Raugst blew his horn, and his knights flanked them. Next the King blew his horn, and the grand host of Felgrad began to march through the gates. What followed was a fantastic parade, as Raugst and Lord Ulea rode side by side through the main thoroughfares of the city and the silver and golden host marched behind them, an endless stream of mounted knights in glittering armor, their horses’ hooves making thunder on the cobbled streets. Girls flocked to the balconies and tossed flower petals down on the riders, and musicians played gaily in the city squares. The sun shone, hot and unmerciful, but a favorful wind blew through the city and cooled Raugst’s sweaty brow.
He thought of the conspirators, most of whom marched behind him, leading their own garrisons from their own baronies and dukedoms that the King had gathered to him, and Raugst winced at the bloody work that must soon be done. It was a bright and cloudless day, but as he glanced sideways at the King it seemed something passed across the sun, and the world grew dim and red.
At parade’s end, Raugst and King Ulea led the host through the South Gates and out onto the undulating plain that gave way to forests to the east and farmlands to the south and west. Here upon the plain the soldiers would camp until Vrulug came, at which point the soldiers would relocate within the walls. Many of the refugees then would be forced to move from their makeshift homes and the city would be more cramped and crowded than ever—which was why the soldiers would camp here for the nonce. Meanwhile Raugst had been building up Thiersgald’s store of grain and supplies, preparing for the coming siege. More supplies arrived each day.
Raugst stayed with the King as the camp was erected, large green tents for the enlisted men and darker ones for the officers. The King’s tent was a muted gold color—not ostentatious exactly, but it did not hide the fact of whose tent it was, either.
The King breathed deeply as he beheld the city wall and the gently rolling land leading away to the burnt wheat farms that scarred the land to the south. Tall grass waved, and the wind blew, and the sun sank to the west, turning red as it descended. “Yes,” he said, “this is good country. Solid country. My grandfather died here, you know, just a little way south of the gates, somewhere around that knoll right there. Odhen Ulea the Second, a great man.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Lord Ulea nodded. “The Summer of the Wolf, you’ve surely heard of that war. Vrulug launched his hosts against us while my grandsire was visiting. His niece, Lady Erys, was marrying Dashen Wesrain, and my grandfather had arrived early for the wedding. A mistake, as it turned out. Borchstogs besieged the city. Dashen handed the army over to him, as was only proper. Odhen led the army out, time and again, against Vrulug and his hordes, but at last his company was surrounded and butchered. Vrulug ordered Odhen to be taken alive, and my grandfather knew Vrulug meant to make a spectacle of his death and demoralize the city.” He shook his head. “He slit his own throat. Right there near that knoll, or so I’ve been told.” He smiled, and it contained great pride, but also sadness. “And he laughed in Vrulug’s face as he did it! He slit his throat laughing!” Just thinking about it, Ulea chuckled, too, and Raugst chuckled along with him. “I hope I live up to him, someday,” Ulea said. “When my time comes. I hope I achieve a death so fine.”
You won’t, Raugst thought. You will die asleep in bed. “Are you certain you would not rather stay at the castle?” Even then soldiers were finishing raising the golden tent. The sounds of hammering and grunting and the stamping of hooves filled Raugst’s ears.
The King shook his head. “No. I’ll stay here and camp with the men.”
On the one hand, Raugst approved of this. On the other, he needed the King at the castle so that the sovereign could be dealt with.
“Of course, my lord. I plan to camp with my men, as well, when the fighting starts.”
“As it should be.”
“Until then, however, I plan to stay at the castle. It’s quite comfortable there ...” He let this offer hang in the air for several long moments. The sun was sinking, but it was far from darkfall yet. The King did not respond. Raugst sighed. “Well, at least dine with me tonight. We will gather the nobles and have one last feast before the war.”
The King allowed himself a smile. When he smiled, his hard, broad face filled with wrinkles, and Raugst could see all his scars and imperfections. Strangely it made him like the King all the more.
“Very well,” Lord Ulea said. “I will dine with you tonight. I could do with a feast.”
Raugst shook his wrist. “I will be honored to have you.” Enjoy the feast, my friend. It will be your last.
Darkness fell and the townsfolk came out to greet the soldiers, as was the custom. Meat was laid over leaping bonfires and mugs of ale shoved into strong hands. Unmarried girls went around giving kisses on the cheek to smiling soldiers, and the whores gave them more than that. Musicians played, wandering amongst the camp, and people danced, driving the darkness away.
It was a happy time, and King Ulea seemed reluctant to leave it. Nevertheless, Raugst convinced him to come away with him finally, and the other nobles, mostly Raugst’s fellow conspirators, gathered, sharing significant looks as they mounted up. Atop his black charger, Raugst led them through Thiersgald, past the huddled masses, and finally to Castle Wesrain rising grim and forbidding into the night, a black hulk blotting out the stars.
While dinner was being prepared, the worthies gathered in the royal study where they smoked cigars and drank wine, and after the manservant Hanslib informed Raugst that dinner was ready, the nobles relocated to the feasting hall. Dinner began as a somber affair, and Raugst missed the gaiety of the celebration beyond the wall. For, as most of the nobles present were those he had persuaded to help him slay the King, conversation was minimal. Few seemed to feel comfortable engaging His Majesty verbally, and Lord Ulea for his part was apparently brooding on the war to come and did not offer many comments of his own.
Thus Raugst was forced to provide entertainment, and he regaled the gathering with fanciful tales of his supposed life along the Feslan-Aragst border.
“ ... and I saw it there, upon the ridge, its eyes gleaming, fangs bared. And I knew it was the thing that had been preying on Father’s goats. So I crept up on it with my bow and arrow, I a young lad of sixteen summers but quite an excellent marksman by then, and came around at it from the rear. Oh, it was a long, black, slinky thing, and drool ran from its mouth. It was nearer the pens now. It didn’t seem to see me. And so I crept—closer, closer.” Raugst paused, looking around. All eyes were on him, even the King’s. “I could tell it was a thing of Oslog. It was beast of nightmare, no natural wolf, and there was a red glint in its eye. The strange thing was that it was also so beautiful, and graceful. I couldn’t help but think it moved more like a cat than a wolf. So slinky and poised. The moonlight shining on its slick black fur.
“Well, no matter. I wasn’t going to let such a beast eat Father’s goats. We needed the food. So I came up on it, careful to keep downwind, and took aim. I looked down the shaft of that arrow, my hands fair to trembling, for I knew that if I missed I wouldn’t have time for a second shot before the thing would be upon me. And so I aimed. Right at its heart.
“But then, curse the gods, at that exact moment the wind shifted! That wolf, it lifted its twitching nose and turned to look right at me.” Several of his guests gasped. “Well, that shocked me so bad I could barely shoot. I steeled my spine and was ready to let fly, when all of sudden—” He leaned forward and lowered his voice dramatically “—when all of a sudden it spoke.”
Muttering greeted this.
“Aye,” said Raugst, grinning tightly, “it spoke.”
“What did it say?” asked the King. His eyes were wide, and he was leaning forward.
Raugst arched his eyebrows. “It said, ‘Well, are you going to shoot me, or not?’” Nervous laughs arose, and Raugst let them run their course. “I said, ‘Why, sure I am. Just stand up a little straighter. Move to the right a bit. And .
.. hold still.’” More laughs. Raugst smiled. “But then, to my utter astonishment, that wolf, that slinky, black wolf, well, it seemed its blackness turned to smoke, and its shape seemed to change. I was so shocked I let fly an arrow, right into the ground. The thing was busy changin’, though, so I, fingers tremblin’, drew another and took aim.
“The goats were mewling, and the wind was screaming, and the thing, the thing that had been a wolf ... the smoke had cleared, if there had been smoke, and now that wolf was no wolf at all. It was, to my great surprise, a beautiful woman.” There were chuckles and grins. “Oh, she was like a goddess, hair like shadow, long and black and shiny under the moon, and eyes, violet eyes, I’ll never forget ‘em. They burned right into me. Oh, and ‘o course, she was naked as the day she was born.” He bit his lower lip and shook his head. “Friends, I tell you she was a creature to die for. Long legs, high, full breasts, flat stomach, those lusty eyes, shadowy hair streamin’ in the wind ...”
“Well, what happened?” the King demanded again.
“Now that’s the interesting part. See, she speaks again, and she says, ‘You don’t have to shoot me, you know. There are other things that we could be doing.’ Now, I look at her, and I look at the goats, and I say, ‘What are you suggesting?’ And she says, ‘Let me take a goat and I’ll show you pleasures you can’t dream of.’ Well, I look down the shaft of my arrow. I’ve got her heart dead center, just above one of those perfect breasts. And again I look at her, and I look at the goats, and back at her. Then I throw down that bow and stand up and say, ‘I guess you might be worth a goat or two.’”
The whole table laughed heartily at this, the King most of all. Raugst knew he had the King’s trust then. Good.
“So, what happened afterward?” Lord Ulea asked, wiping tears from his eyes.
“Oh, she took a goat, just like she said. And I let her. She’d upheld her end of the bargain by then. Shown me pleasures I can’t even describe. The next day when Father found out, I got a whipping, sure enough, a whipping I’ll never forget, but I grinned all the way through it.”
