The King of the Crags

by Stephen Deas

  “You sound like Jeiros.”

  “And you should have stayed at home, playing with your starling. How is she? Still showing off her pretty plumage?”

  “Not as pretty as yours, Zafir.”

  She slipped him an arch look. “Oh, is that why you came back?”

  “Of course. Why else?”

  “Then I can’t help but wonder why you left in the first place. Although I did hear a rumor that someone died.”

  “I might have mentioned it, yes. I seem to have become a king since last we met.”

  Zafir laughed, a pretty tinkle of breaking crystal. “You’re not a king until I say you are.”

  Jehal pointed over to the Glass Cathedral. “Then say I am.”

  She smiled. “I thought you’d return. I was expecting to hear that someone had died too. In fact I had a quite particular expectation in that regard. I am sad and disappointed to learn of your father’s passing. Very sadly disappointed. Were there any witnesses? Should I put you on trial as well? Or were you extremely careful?”

  Sometimes, Jehal thought, life would be much simpler if he gave in to the urge to wrap his hands around her delicate little throat and squeeze until she shut up. “King Tyan passed away peacefully, I think you will find. Now Furymouth requires a king, and thus I require a crown.”

  “After the council, Jehal. Not before.”

  Jehal pursed his lips. He nodded slowly. “You’re going to call for Shezira’s head then.”

  “And you’re going to try to stop me from getting it.”

  “Why yes, Your Holiness. Having no particular desire to see the realms ripped to pieces by war, I do think I might. Since I will doubtless succeed, you might be inclined to show some of that magnanimity I was mentioning and avoid making a fool of yourself in front of your kings and queens. Of all people, I should be your ally, Zafir. Furymouth and the Pinnacles have always stood side by side. Even in the War of Thorns, there were as many knights from the Harvest Realm who fought with Vishmir as fought against him. Besides, what are all these northerners except blood-mage spawn?”

  Zafir pursed her lips. “History, Jehal? Here is some history for you. The Pinnacles are the heart of the realms. The Silver King came to us there. He tamed the dragons there. The blood-mages ruled from there. The Order of the Scales ruled from there. Even after Narammed built the Adamantine Palace and the City of Dragons, we were the heart of everything. For most of those centuries, Furymouth was mud and huts.”

  Jehal shrugged. “And yet look at us now. You keep your history and I’ll keep my wealth. We both have plenty enough dragons though.”

  She sniffed. “You want me to let Shezira go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let suspicion hang over her? Leave the world to wonder? Did Hyram fall or was he pushed?”

  “I see you remember.”

  “My answer is no.”

  Jehal grinned and bared his teeth. “Then I look forward to humbling you at your council.”

  “You will not be there, Prince.”

  “Nevertheless.”

  Zafir stopped. She turned to face him, looking up with wide earnest eyes. “Are you going to be my enemy now, Jehal?”

  Jehal put the palm of one hand against the side of her neck, the age-old gesture of brotherhood. “I am your best and truest friend, my lover. You will know your enemies at your council, for they will be the ones who shout and bellow their support when you call on them to hang Queen Shezira.”

  She took a step away, withdrawing from his hand, and slowly shook her head. “No. My enemies will be the ones who oppose my will. And I will not forgive, Prince Jehal. Whoever they turn out to be.”

  17

  UNWANTED ATTENTION

  Vale Tassan watched as the last scorpion was hoisted into place. The Adamantine Palace bristled with them now. He sighed the long satisfied sigh of someone who’d got exactly what he wanted. The Red Riders were enemies of the realms and now at last the speaker had set her mind to crushing them. Dragons were moving up from the eyries in the south and combing the Purple Spur. The Adamantine Men had been unleashed from their barracks. Some had been dispatched to join the dragon-riders in their search, but the large part remained to guard the City of Dragons and the speaker’s palace. He’d got all the weapons he’d asked for. No dragon would get close enough to burn the Speaker’s Tower for a second time. If they did, that would mean his head.

  Seventy-four days since Head Priest Aruch had handed Zafir the Adamantine Spear. Seventy-four days gone in a flash. The last Night Watchman to go to war had served mad old Anzuine in the War of Thorns and died fighting Vishmir’s dragons. Dying didn’t bother Vale though. What bothered him was that three dragons had flown straight through his defenses, meager as they were, and burned the speaker’s palace. He couldn’t blame that on Zafir, not all of it. There had been fifty scorpions on the walls when the Red Riders had come. Now fifty Adamantine Men had been executed and fed to the speaker’s dragons. One for each crew that had missed. Good men all. How could they all have failed? How could we have been so lax when it is our duty to be vigilant?

  Not being ready. That was what kept Vale awake at nights.

  “Satisfied with your handiwork?” asked a voice behind him.

  “Prince Jehal.” Vale turned around, dropped to his knees and bowed. “Yes, Your Highness. Most satisfied.” He kept his head down, eyes to the ground. The Adamantine Men, even their commanders, were mere servants after all. Servants to the dragon kings and queens, princes and lords. Sometimes being lowly and small could have its advantages.

  “You can get up, you know. I’m not Zafir.”

  “As you command, Your Highness.” He rose slowly, his eyes fixed on Jehal’s feet. What does he want? Nothing good. Nothing good ever came from the Viper.

  “Tell me, Night Watchman, what did you think of the council this morning?”

  Vale slowly shook his head. “I have no opinion to offer, Your Highness. I exist only to serve.”

  “You might try that on Zafir and get away with it, but not with me. Speaker Hyram, unless I am misinformed, once valued your advice.”

  Vale stayed silent. Silence was always the safest defense. Words only made trouble. Especially with this one.

  “Well? Did he or did he not?”

  Vale shrugged. “I cannot say, Your Highness. Only our late lord may say as to the value he found in what few words I had to offer. And he is dead.” Dead because of me. My fault.

  “So he is. You served him for a long time. Why do you suppose he turned his back on Shezira?”

  “Again I have no opinion to offer, Your Highness.” Because of you. You and your potions and your sick father. Because of Zafir and because, in the end, he was weak like all men are weak when they grow old. He will not be making such a mistake again. He frowned. He would have to watch those thoughts lest they turned from thoughts into words and then to actions, and before you knew where you were, it would be him throwing people off balconies. He knew exactly where he’d start too. He bit his tongue.

  Jehal’s smile was bland and false. “He was a good speaker, I think, until the end. He wanted too much to live, perhaps? Is that how Speaker Zafir turned him? Was she just too pretty to refuse, do you think?”

  “You might be a better judge of that than I, Your Highness.” Inside, Vale winced at his own words. Silence! Remember, silence is your defense.

  Jehal’s eyes glittered. “Really?”

  “Love of women and a long life are two things that we of the Guard have long forsaken.”

  Jehal laughed. “Oh, then I could never be an Adamantine Man. Although you do confuse me. There are whorehouses around your barracks, and I can tell you from exhaustive personal endeavor that some of them are really quite good.”

  “Love of women, Prince Jehal. We have forsaken love, not lust. We are swords. We sate ourselves in flesh as the need comes upon us and then we move on.”

  “Cold words, Night Watchman!”

  “Forgive me, You
r Highness.” Vale bowed. “They are not my words, nor those of any Guardsman before me. That is how Prince Lai described us.”

  “In Principles? I don’t think so. I would have remembered that.”

  “Prince Lai wrote other works, less well read or well received, Your Highness. I have a small library of my own.” There, now why did you say that, Vale? That sounded like a boast, and Adamantine Men have no need to boast.

  Jehal cocked his head. “You are a fascinating fellow. Especially for someone who has no opinions of his own. I’ve always admired Principles. We used to have all his other works in our own library and then we had a fire. I didn’t know any copies had survived.”

  “The monastery in Sand has the most complete collection, Your Highness. I have but a few, but I would be honored to offer them to you.” There. Is that enough? Will you go away and leave me alone now?

  “I will take you up on that, Night Watchman, but not as a gift. I couldn’t take such treasures from anyone, least of all a man who has forsaken love. War is all you have left.”

  Jehal turned away but Vale didn’t allow himself to relax. Hyram called him Viper because poison came out of his mouth, but there’s some scorpion sting in him as well, I think.

  Sure enough, Jehal took one step and then stopped. “Night Watchman, may I ask you a question on which your opinion is most certainly relevant? How many dragons do you think your scorpions and your legions can stop? More than three, I hope.”

  I will not rise to that. “I cannot stop the dragons, Your Highness. Only their riders.”

  “Then how many riders, Night Watchman?”

  “The answer to that is in Principles, Your Highness, as I’m sure you know. A legion may face ten mounted dragons at best before it breaks. I have twenty legions. In the field, therefore, two hundred riders at best. Here, behind these walls and towers, maybe twice that number.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No one can be sure of such a thing, Your Highness. No one has ever tried.”

  “It would be a slaughter.”

  “The palace and the city would burn and most of us would die. Perhaps all. But that’s what we are for.”

  Jehal laughed, although he didn’t seem to find anything funny. “Then get yourself ready, Night Watchman, for when Zafir puts Shezira to the sword, the north will come to war with you. The flower of their manhood will be pierced by your bolts, while these walls and towers are smashed and burned and your legions with them. There will be nothing left of any of you. Everything Hyram preserved will go up in flames. If the realms survive at all, he will be remembered as the Great Fool.”

  Vale bowed his head. “If the speaker commands us to fall on our spears, that is what we will do.” One might ask where you will be, Prince, when this war comes. Here with us, defending the heart that holds the nine realms together? Or will you watch from a distance and pick off the survivors? Shall we see if I can guess?

  “You do that, Night Watchman. You do that.” Jehal still had a smirk on his face as he turned away again. Vale kept very still, holding back the urge to wipe the smirk away with his fist. At least Jehal didn’t turn back a second time.

  He put the Viper out of his mind and immersed himself in inspecting the defenses. His soldiers had placed over three hundred scorpions on the walls in less than three days and all of them needed to be perfect—he would accept nothing less. He watched as horsemen raced around the palace flying target kites from their saddles. By the end of the day, every scorpion had been fired. Each and every one of them worked. He knew which crews had hit their target with the first shot, which ones had hit it with their second, and which ones had failed and would have to be replaced. They would practice every day now until the council of kings and queens was done and the lords of the realms had dispersed back to their own lands. Long after dark he sat awake in his little room, burning lanterns, poring over rotas and lists, staring at his maps, shuffling crews around, placing his best at the points of the palace most likely to be attacked. Being certain that he was ready.

  He was about to admit defeat and accept that some decisions would have to wait until after he’d had some sleep when his door slowly swung open. He glanced up, half expecting to see Jeiros come for another try at changing his mind, but no. The Viper again. Instantly, Vale was on guard.

  “I saw the light under your door, so I knew you were still awake.” Jehal pushed past Vale and sat himself down. With casual rudeness he looked at the maps and starting picking through them. “Trying to decide where and when Jaslyn and Almiri will strike?”

  Vale clenched his toes. Why are you here and what will it take to make you go away? “I am more concerned, Your Highness, that the Red Riders will try to disrupt the council.”

  “And condemn their queen to an even more certain death? Why would they do that?”

  “They have struck at us once, Your Highness.” The books. That’s what he’s here for. Prince Lai’s books. A shame to let them go, but needs must as the devil drives. He started to look among his shelves.

  “Yes, they have, haven’t they? Last I heard, Rider Hyrkallan was leading them. I wonder what madness possessed him to burn the palace. He always struck me as a very sensible sort of fellow. Pity about his sense of humor. I wonder sometimes if they do something to their children in the north. Do they cut out some part to make them like that? Queen Shezira was as bad and as for her daughters . . .” He smiled and shook his head. “Don’t get me started on her daughters.”

  Vale pulled three old books down. “I hear rumor that Hyrkallan abandoned the Red Riders some weeks ago and that he has been seen in the north. I am inclined to believe this is true. Their actions made sense to me when Hyrkallan led them. Now I don’t understand them at all. They are destroying themselves. They will not last long.”

  “An enemy is at his most dangerous when you don’t understand his reasons.” Jehal smiled. “Principles, Night Watchman. Perhaps it is a trick.”

  Vale shrugged. “Here, Your Highness.” He put the three books on the table. “I will wager you these that when the Red Riders fall you will not find Rider Hyrkallan among them. These are what you came for, are they not?”

  Jehal gave him a lazy look. “No, Night Watchman, no they are not.”

  They stared at each other. Vale said nothing. Silence, remember.

  For a long time they both watched each other in silence. Finally Jehal spoke: “Do I have to spell it out for you in simple words?”

  “Forgive me, Your Highness, but I am a soldier. We are men of direct action, not guile. We do not deal well with innuendo and insinuation. If not the books, I have no idea what you want from me, Your Highness. Yes, simple words would be best.”

  Jehal frowned as if confused. “Hyram hated me and I had no love for him. I wonder why it should trouble me to see everything fall to ruin.” He sighed and shook his head. “Are you really so stupid, Night Watchman? No, I don’t think you are.”

  Vale stood very still. He didn’t speak, only waited. The Viper would either go away now or he’d say what he wanted. Then he would go away.

  Jehal clucked his tongue. “In fact, I’d say you are one of the more astute minds on the Speaker’s Council, Night Watchman, although I will accept that is somewhat of a barbed compliment. Very well.” He frowned again. “I am here to ask you for your help.”

  “I exist to serve, Your Highness.”

  “And therein lies the problem, Night Watchman, because the help I want from you is a small matter of not serving, and it will cost you your head if you are discovered.”

  Silent and still. Let him speak and say nothing.

  “So. If the council of kings and queens takes Queen Shezira’s head, there will be a war. The Red Riders are only a start. Would you agree?”

  Vale said nothing. He kept his face blank and still, with the pleasing result that a twitch of irritation flashed around Jehal’s lips.

  “Simple words. Yes, yes, very well. Shezira has three daughters. Queen Almiri now sits o
n the throne of Evenspire and is certainly helping the Red Riders. Zafir will have proof of that soon enough. Soon-to-be-Queen Jaslyn sits on Shezira’s throne and she is betrothed to the fool son of King Sirion. Two queens and one king. Three realms and many dragons, and they are already furious with Zafir. And with me, for that matter, but I doubt that is of any consequence here.”

  There was that flicker of annoyance again. Or was it something else? Was it . . . ? Vale felt an unexpected thrill blossom inside him. Jehal was nervous. He might even be scared.

  Jehal tapped his foot irritably. “You know all of this. If killing Shezira isn’t enough to send the north to war against her then Zafir will demand Almiri’s head next. Do you think Almiri’s own sisters will abandon her?” He shook his head. “Queen Shezira sitting on her rightful throne would stop that from happening. She would not allow a war to tear the realms apart, no matter how she’d been wronged. The rest of them . . .” He shrugged. “Who knows, eh? So here’s a choice for you, Night Watchman. You can sit idly by while the speaker wrecks everything you’re sworn to defend. Or you can do something about it.”

  The inside of Vale’s mouth had gone very dry. He felt light-headed. Jeiros I could understand, but you? What makes you think I would even countenance such a thing when you are surely thinking of nothing but yourself ? And yet I find I am still listening. Why? Why am I not calling my own men to arrest this traitor?

  He shook the questions away. “And exactly what, Prince Jehal, do you suggest I do?” There. Even for asking that question I should have myself hanged.

  Jehal wrinkled his nose. “All I require of you is that you do what the Adamantine Men always do.” He bared his teeth. “Be vigilant. Don’t lose another speaker, Night Watchman. Watch her and watch her well. Perhaps to the exclusion of others.” His grimace finally managed to turn into a grin. “I think you are quite clever enough to understand me.” He held up his hands as if to cut off Vale’s reply. A wasted gesture, since there was none forthcoming. “Oh, and don’t get too excited, Night Watchman. Whatever happens, you can be sure I’ll be nowhere near to be touched by it. The worst you can do is kill a few men who want nothing more than for the realms to be at peace.” He nodded curtly and swept back out of the door. Vale stood very still and watched him go.