‘We need to take control of Aramor.’
I shook my head. ‘I have fewer than a dozen Greatcoats and I don’t—’
‘I have a thousand troops within a day’s march,’ Ossia said.
‘A thousand? How—’
‘They wear no armour. I’ve had them travel in small groups, craftsmen and labourers seeking work. Your man Antrim controls the Aramor guardsmen, so all we need is his assistance to get my men into the castle. Once we have control, we can bring the parties together to negotiate a quick and painless peace.’
‘Trin’s army is larger,’ I said. ‘Two thousand at least.’
‘It won’t matter. Once my soldiers are inside the castle they can hold it against five times that number.’
The conversation had moved so quickly: from cajoling and insults to a palace takeover. It required only a word, a nod of my head.
‘The other Dukes won’t like it – they all have their own troops garrisoned outside the castle. What happens—?’
‘The Dukes hold their soldiers by them like precious gems. They won’t even notice until it’s too late, and they won’t want a battle that might strip them of what few troops they have. This is how it must be, Falcio.’
Her words made sense, but my discomfort wasn’t going away. ‘We’re talking about a coup.’
She gave a laugh. ‘A coup? There isn’t a monarch yet, so how can there be a coup? In fact, all we’re doing is securing the situation so that a lawful solution can be found. Isn’t that what you told me King Paelis wanted you to do? Isn’t that what his little missions were all about? So that you could secure the country and reinstate the rule of law?’
‘You know, it’s not polite to use someone’s words against them.’
Except that’s what this has been about all along. That’s why she’d goaded me about the King’s missions: she already knew what my answer had to be. By that same logic, I had to admit that what she proposed was no less lawful than any of the commands King Paelis had given us the day before he died.
‘I’ll speak to Antrim in private,’ I said. Even that simple acknowledgment tasted bitter on my tongue. I wouldn’t be able to tell Aline or Valiana. They’d never go for it.
And that told me that all this talk of interregnum and securing Aramor so that negotiations could take place was nothing more than pathetic self-deception. I was going to turn my back on the law to get what I wanted, which was Aline safe and on the throne. If it had no other virtues, at least Ossia’s plan meant I wouldn’t have to murder a boy, nor watch my enemy take power. With that realisation came a decision.
I was about to launch my first coup d’état.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
The Trap
When I went to meet Duchess Ossia in the cells at the lowest level of Aramor, the late afternoon sun was snaking in through the windows mounted high on one side of the sloped ceiling. The King had never wanted anyone, even his prisoners, trapped in darkness. Oddly, the light made me uncomfortable. Treason should happen in the dark.
‘What exactly are we doing down here?’ Brasti asked as we walked past the heavy iron door and into the long hallway with its rows of cells on either side. How long would I be willing to keep Filian imprisoned here if we couldn’t come to some kind of power-sharing agreement between him and Aline?
I hadn’t told him or Kest what the Duchess and I had discussed; the fewer people who knew, the less chance we’d make Trin suspicious. Anyway, surprise is the single most important asset in a coup d’état: it’s more powerful than any troops, more effective than any bribe. It’s the difference between a quick, painless shift in power that would enable us to negotiate the agreement we needed and a bloodbath that would set the country against itself for years. If we wanted to clean up the mess the King had left us, we had to shift the balance of power with the suddenness of a lightning strike coming out of a clear sky.
‘Falcio?’ Kest said. He knew something was wrong.
‘We’re taking control of Aramor,’ I said. ‘Duchess Ossia is going to help us take custody of Filian. Once we have him, we’ll establish a new council and arrange formal power-sharing between him and Aline.’
Kest’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re staging a coup.’
‘I’m saving the country.’
‘Well, I’m no legal expert,’ Brasti said glibly, ‘—oh, wait . . . I am a legal expert. Isn’t this illegal?’
‘It is,’ Kest confirmed. ‘Utterly and absolutely illegal.’
‘That’s debatable,’ I said. ‘There is a case to be made that we are in an interregnum.’
‘Now where have I heard that before?’ Brasti asked, cutting me off. He pointed a finger in the air. ‘That’s right: Morn made the exact same argument to justify his plan to take over the northern Duchies.’
‘This is different. We’re not taking power for ourselves, we’re just introducing a temporary security measure so that we can ensure—’
Brasti snorted. ‘Hey, I don’t need the explanation. I’m fine with us taking over the country and killing Trin.’ He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the bars of one of the cells. ‘I suppose we’ll need to kill a few others as well, just in case. Which of our enemies should we start with, do you think?’
‘We’re not killing anyone. We’re just—’
‘And should we still call you “First Cantor”?’ he asked, prodding me with his finger. ‘Or do you prefer “Emperor Falcio” now?’
I’d expected his asinine jibes and yet I still found myself enraged. I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the iron bars. ‘I’m trying to save Aline, you fool!’
‘Then give Filian the throne and get her out of the country.’
‘No! Trin won’t allow it – and besides, she’s King Paelis’ daughter—’
‘—and Filian is his son.’
I found his hypocrisy stunning. ‘You don’t even believe he is the King’s child!’
‘But you do,’ Brasti said, ‘otherwise why would you throw away the one thing you’ve been telling us we were fighting for all these years?’
‘I told you, it’s not that simple!’
Kest grabbed my shoulder and hauled me back, forcing me to let go of Brasti. I stumbled, trying to regain my balance, but he didn’t say anything, just stood between us.
‘What happened to the man who wanted to murder Valiana when he thought she was a princess?’ I asked him bitterly, but Kest didn’t even blink.
‘He was commanded by the First Cantor of the Greatcoats to follow the law. Was that a mistake? Should I have killed her when I had the chance?’
‘She was different. She was—’
‘Valiana was raised by Duchess Patriana, just as Filian was, and yet you risked all our lives and the future of the country on her. What great sin has Filian committed that you won’t give him the same chance? By what right do you decide that Aline must rule no matter what the law says?’
The sounds of footsteps removed the need for any reply on my part. Duchess Ossia, followed by half a dozen of her men, came down the hall and stopped outside the entrance to the dungeon, waiting for us. ‘By the right of a parent,’ Ossia said.
I pushed past Kest and walked down the hall towards her. Two of her guards held up their spears before I got too close. Treason always makes people nervous. ‘Aline isn’t my daughter,’ I said.
Ossia smiled, leaning against the iron door to the hallway. ‘It is nothing to be ashamed of, Falcio. I know the pain that these actions bring you. Only the obligation of a father is powerful enough to make you set aside your duty as a magistrate.’
I let the comment slide. ‘We should get moving. The afternoon court session will end soon and once the throne room empties out we’ll have our best chance to take control.’
She took in a breath to speak and I saw the tinies
t crack in her composure. She tried to regain her normal calm demeanour, but as our eyes met, she knew I’d seen. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, stepped back and swung the iron door shut. The latch clanged into position and the lock engaged.
‘What in hells are you doing?’ I shouted, banging on the door. ‘This was your idea! Why would you—?’
‘I’m sorry, Falcio. It is the only way.’
I stared at her through the four-inch-square peep-hole in the door. ‘The coup . . . You convinced me we could—’
‘I needed you to make it possible for my troops to enter Aramor unfettered and to keep as many of the Greatcoats out of the way as possible. I promise you, this will go quickly, and I’ll have you freed as soon as it’s done.’
‘You’re betraying us?’ I shouted. ‘Why would you do this?’
Duchess Ossia looked genuinely sad as she said, ‘Because I must.’
I didn’t understand: Ossia had always been the King’s closest ally amongst the Dukes, so what possible reason did she have for betraying him now? Then it came to me – too slowly, of course. There was one reason why she would betray Paelis’ daughter.
Like an idiot I’d never asked her why she’d been so sure that Filian’s parentage would be validated by the Sages when they arrived. ‘Filian is your son.’
She began backing away, her guardsmen surrounding her with shields in case Brasti tried to fire an arrow or I tried to throw a knife. ‘Forgive me, Falcio. A mother’s duty compels me, and a mother’s burden always comes to a terrible end in this sad and broken country.’
CHAPTER FIFTY
The Coup d’État
The seconds ticked by as I watched Brasti trying to pick the lock. He’d always been the fastest of us, but it still felt as if he were moving far too slowly.
‘Can you—?’
‘Yes, Falcio, I can pick the lock faster. I’m just doing it slowly to punish you for getting Kest and me involved in a fucking coup d’état which has now turned out to be against Aline!’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I didn’t—’
‘Better that you not speak,’ Kest said. He didn’t sound angry at all, and from anyone else I might have been able to fool myself that he was merely being efficient. But I’d known Kest most of my life. He was enraged, and he was right to be. I had allowed Duchess Ossia to use me to set up the coup which would see her son on the throne. When she had control of the throne room as well as the castle, would she murder Aline immediately? Or just lock her up?
Even as I watched Brasti work, my mind started turning, trying to come up with some kind of leverage I could use to negotiate for Aline’s safety. A new King would have enemies, and even the Dukes who supported him might be troubled at the manner in which Ossia had secured his rule. She might be open to a deal with the Greatcoats as a means to give some legitimacy to Filian’s takeover.
Instinctively I looked at Kest, wondering what our chances might be – of course he’d know what I would be thinking now. But I could tell he was truly disgusted with me: I was already looking for some new way to use the Greatcoats as a tool for my own ends.
Saint Birgid-who-weeps-rivers . . . what has happened to me? How did I turn into this . . . this thing I’ve become?
I heard the click in the lock as Brasti worked it open and a moment later we were racing through the halls and up the stairs. Whatever hopes I’d held for a bloodless transition of power had been dashed. I’d be killing as many of Ossia’s men as it needed to win this damnable game we’d begun.
*
I’d expected to encounter more resistance, but by the time we reached the throne room, chaos had already taken over. Antrim, bless his untrustworthy heart, had obviously failed to follow my orders because he and some thirty Aramor guardsmen were waging a bloody fight against Ossia’s troops. When he saw us coming, he barked an order to his men and they made a sudden surge against the opposing force, only to suddenly pull back, leaving a gap for us to race past and into the throne room. The look on Antrim’s face told me that he would be holding me accountable, whatever came of this.
The scene inside was even more confusing: several guardsmen were trying to protect Filian and Trin, who was screaming threats at anyone who came near. On the other side of the dais, Aline was rising from her throne; only Duke Jillard was nearby. At first I didn’t understand who Trin’s men were fighting, since the only Aramor troops I’d seen were still outside in the hall – then I noticed the opposing soldiers’ plain clothes. ‘They wear no armour,’ Ossia had said.
And at last everything fell into place: Ossia hadn’t come to take power for Filian. She’d brought her troops to kill him.
‘A mother’s burden always comes to a terrible end in this sad and broken country,’ she had said.
This was why she’d wanted the Greatcoats out of the way: not because she was going to betray our pact, but because she was going to take it one step further by killing her own son to ensure Aline took the throne. She thinks Patriana’s influence will have made Filian into a monster, I realised, just like Trin. So Ossia had locked me in the dungeon to prevent me from interfering as she murdered her own child in the name of saving the country.
Ossia’s men cut down the guards protecting Filian, and I watched in horrible fascination as the Duchess herself, a poignard in her hand, approached the boy. She was going to kill him herself.
A mother’s duty.
I started towards her, but I wasn’t running now; I was walking. Some part of me had made a decision. I hadn’t wanted Filian to die, but if this was the way of things, then the hells for him and Trin and all their machinations. Aline would take the throne: she would be Queen and I could finally rest, knowing my King’s daughter and his country and his dream were safe once and for all.
Trin screamed a curse, but even if there was magic in it, it wasn’t enough to stop Ossia’s cold determination. Something black and oily glistened on the tip of her blade in the dying afternoon light that poured through the windows. Poison. She wasn’t taking any chances.
‘Falcio!’ Kest called out, and when I turned, I saw he and Brasti were caught in the press and fighting to keep from being taken down. I turned back to the dais and the events unfolding there.
‘Falcio, this is murder!’ Kest shouted, and he was right: it was murder – but I wasn’t the one doing it. Ossia had freed me from that burden. Filian tried to catch my eye and I wondered what he saw in my face: was he expecting me to run to save him, the boy who would destroy my country and the girl the King had named after my wife so I would know I had to protect her? The young fool so in love with Trin that he couldn’t see the evil that drove her? Whatever fine intentions he might have, as soon as he took the throne he would marry her and she would be the one in control. She would turn this country into a bigger hell than it had ever been.
He was still looking at me but I didn’t even bother to mouth the words ‘I’m sorry’ because in that moment, I wasn’t.
A shout from the other side of the dais drew my attention. Aline, her own small belt knife in hand, was running towards Ossia, with Jillard chasing after her, but he was moving too slowly. I was running too, now, realising that in my willingness to forsake the law to save Aline, I’d forgotten the most important thing about her: Aline would never allow someone else to be murdered for her, and she would never forgive me for allowing it to happen.
Her courage snapped me out of the fog I’d allowed to envelop me – but it was too late, because Aline failed to reach Ossia in time to stop the attack.
Instead, she got there just in time to get between Filian and the blade.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
The Sounds of Breathing
Screams, shouts, whispers, laughter . . . the human voice is capable of a remarkable assortment of sounds when words fail us, when reasoned, ordered thoughts cease to mean anything in the face of a world turned upside dow
n. And yet it was the sounds I noticed most through the chaos and wreckage that was Aramor’s throne room.
My other senses had slowed down, coming too late, like thunder preceding the lightning. I knew I was running towards Aline, but only because I could hear the clap of my boots against the hard marble floor. Men had tried to get in my way, but I knew that only because of their groans, the scraping of my rapiers as they slid through leather armour, the wet sigh of steel withdrawing from flesh. I knew Aline had fallen to the floor from the dull crack of her head striking the marble and the soft sigh from her lips. I knew she was still alive, but only because I heard her speaking to me.
‘Time,’ she said, so softly that I shouldn’t have been able to hear the word over the din, and yet I could.
I looked down at her stomach, forcing my eyes to focus, to take stock of the cut that had slashed through her gown just above her waist. The wound was deep, but a cut is not the same as a puncture; none of her vital organs had been struck. ‘It’s going to be all right,’ I said.
I felt a squeezing of my right hand and only then noticed she’d taken it in hers. ‘It will be all right, Falcio.’ The tears filling her eyes belied her words.
Someone was shouting over and over for a doctor, swearing all the while. I think it was Duke Jillard.
‘Hey,’ I said to Aline, trying to keep my voice light even as the clashing of steel came perilously close. A clang, almost like a bell, told me that Kest was nearby, protecting us with that big shield of his. I took a bandage from inside my coat and started to wrap it around Aline’s belly. ‘It’s just a little scrape, barely worth making such a fuss over.’
She gave me a little smile. ‘I love how stupid you are sometimes.’
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