Transcendent (Ascendant Book 2)

by Craig Alanson

  Whether Kyre Falco also lived would depend on that young man’s actions, and his attitude.

  Niles Forne was not optimistic about the young man’s future.

  As Madame Chu predicted, the message to pull out of western Demarche province was not received well by the Royal Army contingent there. Not received well, and not believed. While one set of telegraphs was busy requesting, almost demanding, confirmation from Linden, another telegraph message was on its way north, to Anschulz province. That second message requested orders directly from Grand General Magrane. The second message verged on insubordination, possibly skirting along the razor edge of treason. It implied that the Royal Army in Demarche might not obey orders from the new Regent in Linden, if General Magrane thought such orders were foolish or dangerous.

  As the message was going north to Magrane, another message was traveling south, sent by Magrane himself. Only the message from Magrane did not travel by anything so crude as a telegraph; it flew through the air on magical wings. Madame Chu had reached out through the spirit world to a wizard serving with the Royal Army in Demarche, providing a message that could not be intercepted and decoded by the enemy. Follow orders to pull back west of the Turmalanes, the magical message stated, all is not as it seems. Await further instructions from me. –Magrane.

  Exactly what that short and cryptic message was supposed to mean, the Royal Army general in Demarche could only guess, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Not knowing Magrane’s full plan made it difficult to explain to Royal Army soldiers that they were ordered to abandon lands they had dedicated years to defending. Worse were the conversations with officers of Demarche’s own ducal army, who rightfully felt betrayed. There was considerable bad blood on both sides, with fights breaking out, even after the Royal Army offered to assist in evacuating civilians from western Demarche as they pulled back.

  That old warrior Magrane, thought the Royal Army general in Demarche, had better have a damned good plan. A brilliant plan.

  Ariana kept Kyre Falco waiting for over an hour. As the new Regent, she was extremely busy, surprisingly busy. She would need to learn quickly to ‘delegate’, which Kallron explained meant losing a measure of control over what happened. It was overwhelming, and what dismayed her was how many little, seemingly mundane decisions a Regent needed to make, every single day!

  Ariana also kept Kyre waiting because she wished to. She wanted the arrogant Falco heir to sit in the waiting room, as more important people were allowed in her office to speak with the Regent. Kallron strongly urged Ariana to rebuff Kyre’s urgent request for a meeting, telling her that no good could come from it, and that an emotional discussion with her future husband could only be a distraction that she could not afford right then. Ariana disagreed; she knew herself better than her advisor did. Kyre Falco no doubt wanted to gloat about his victory over her, and Ariana simply wanted to get that out of the way. She knew that Better to let Kyre boast now, so she could put it out of her mind. And, there were some things she wished to say to the Falco heir, to let Kyre know just how little he mattered among the many things that concerned her.

  Finally, she allowed Kyre past the door. As he stomped into the official office of the Regent, Ariana was seated behind a large desk, signing documents under the guidance of Gustov Kallron.

  Kyre bowed curtly, barely a bow at all. “Your Highness-”

  “One moment, please.” Ariana held up a finger, not even looking up at Kyre.

  “Sign here,” Kallron indicated on one document, “and here also, Your Highness.”

  “Oh, how many of these will I need to sign? And read?” Ariana said grumpily, and there she was not putting on an act for Kyre’s benefit. “This is such a bother. There, done,” she plopped the pen back into its inkwell, and swept the documents aside. Most of the desk was still covered with books and documents left by her mother; documents she and Kallron were still sorting through. The former Regent Carlana Trehayme was secluded in her royal apartments, and had sent a note to Ariana, stating that her mother intended to spend the next several months at the summer palace. Kallron heartily endorsed that idea; he wanted Carlana as far away from her daughter as was possible. “Chancellor,” she addressed Kallron by his old, and now restored, title. “Ask Captain Earwood to join us as soon as possible, please.”

  “Yes, Highness,” Kallron replied, and snapped his fingers to a servant, to relay the message to the Royal Army barracks.

  Ariana sat back in the chair with a satisfied smile, which she quickly wiped off her face and replaced by a scowl. “Your Grace,” she addressed Kyre in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “You wished to speak with me?”

  “In private, Your Highness.” Kyre’s jaw clenched. “If you please.”

  Ariana looked to Kallron, who nodded. The chancellor waved for the remaining servants to depart. “My chancellor will remain.”

  “But-” Kyre began to protest.

  “The relationship between you and I is strictly a matter of state,” Ariana snapped, “and Chancellor Kallron advises me on matters of state.” With a mocking smile, she added “Your Grace.”

  Kyre struggled to control his anger. “Your Highness,” he said, thinking that term would apply to him after they were married. “I had nothing to do with our betrothal. My father informed me, only this morning, of the arrangement he made with you.”

  “No doubt you were greatly displeased,” Ariana readied the insults she had planned.

  “I am displeased!” Kyre insisted, much to the surprise of the crown princess. “I am not a stud horse. I am not my father’s property, to be bargained like a prize, a prize, cow,” he sputtered. “Your Highness, have you completely lost your mind?”

  Ariana’s eyes grew wide. The conversation was not at all going the way she had imagined it would. All of her carefully planned insults and retorts were forgotten. “Do you forget who you are speaking to?” Her anger was not feigned. “I am-”

  “You are either a foolish little girl, or a truly desperate one.” Kyre’s anger was also real. “Highness, after a baby is born to us, a Falco baby, my father is going to kill you. Do you understand that? He may very well kill us both, so he could become both guardian to our child, and become Regent. You have no idea how dangerous my father is,” he shook his head angrily. “Regaining the throne for the Falcos is all he can think about. He will do anything to put a Falco on the throne of Tarador.”

  So great was Ariana’s shock that she could not speak. Could not think of anything to say.

  “I will refuse to marry you,” Kyre said emphatically, “whatever bargain you have made is not worth your life. My father is sending me away this very afternoon; before I leave, I will tell him that I refuse-”

  “No!” Ariana shouted. “No,” she repeated in a whisper, and Kallron took her hand and squeezed it. “Kyre,” she began to say, then her voice failed her.

  Kallron cleared his throat. “Your Grace, the crown princess made a bargain with your father, in order to save Tarador. She needed five votes to assume the Regency, to loosen the Royal Army’s chains and allow General Magrane to strike at the enemy. The price your father demanded, in exchange for his vote, was for the crown princess to marry you, before her coronation as queen.” Kallron squeezed her hand again, as Ariana stared down at the table. “Her Highness did not enter this bargain blindly; she is well aware of your father’s intentions. It is a measure of her desire to save Tarador, and her desperation in the face of the enemy crossing our borders, that she entered his bargain. If there were any other choice, your father’s offer would of course have been rejected.”

  “She is Regent now,” Kyre protested, “I can tell my father that I refuse-”

  “No!” Ariana looked up, her eyes red. Of all things she had expected, persuading Kyre Falco to go through with their forced marriage was the furthest from her mind. “Kyre, don’t. Don’t. Please. Your father could call for a vote of no confidence in me. We can’t afford that. Not now. I have already had to-” She looked u
p at Kallron.

  He nodded. “Her Highness, and I, learned recently that her mother secretly agreed to a betrothal between the crown princess and a prince of the Indus Empire.”

  “What?” Kyre was genuinely shocked.

  Ariana managed a smile. “That was exactly what we said. Ky-” She could not bring herself to use his name again. “Your Grace,” she said stiffly, “I have already been forced to break one betrothal contract, a contract with our most powerful ally. I cannot break another. Please, please, do not say anything to your father.”

  The conversation also had not at all gone the way Kyre expected. “But-”

  “Your Grace,” Kallron interrupted. “The betrothal contract specifies that the crown princess is to marry the Falco heir. The heir to the ducky of Burwyck is not necessarily yourself. You do have a younger brother. If your father became displeased with you,” Kallron left the rest to Kyre’s imagination.

  Kyre’s face reddened. He had come to protect the crown princess, and instead found himself fearing for his own life. Impulsively, he dropped to one knee and stared at the floor. “Your Highness, I pledge with my life to protect you, and to serve Tarador in any way that I can. Including protecting you from my father, if needed.”

  Kallron and Ariana glanced at each other, neither of them knowing what to say. Then, Kallron silently gestured for Ariana to speak. “Thank you?” Ariana said uncertainly. Then, “Your Grace, we accept your,” she had no idea what was the proper way to respond, “offer of fealty?” Damn it, she thought to herself. The one time in her life she needed Charl Fusting, the royal chief of protocol, and the annoying man was not there! “And we hope that you fare well, in, where are you going? You are leaving today?”

  Kyre rose, and squared his shoulders. “I am to lead a battalion of my father’s soldiers, to support the Royal Army in Anschulz,” he said with a touch of pride. Then his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “Likely, my father mostly wishes me away from Linden. And surrounded by troops loyal to him at all times.”

  “Be careful, Your Grace,” Ariana surprised herself by saying.

  Kyre bowed deeply. “And you also, Your Highness. Please remember, you have enemies everywhere, especially now that you have power as Regent.”

  When the door closed behind Kyre Falco, Ariana fell back in the chair. “Uncle Kallron, what just happened?”

  Kallron shook his head slowly. “There are days when I think, with all my years, that nothing could ever surprise me. Whenever I begin to think that, life surprises me greatly. Highness, I urge you to be careful. Kyre is a Falco. Today, he may resent his father for setting the path of his life,” Kallron unknowingly echoed the words of Niles Forne. “Kyre is young, and wants nothing so much as to be independent. Family ties are strong; Kyre may change his mind tomorrow, or the next day. Or next year. He will always be a Falco, I do not think he could ever be trusted.”

  “I don’t plan to trust him. I don’t trust him,” Ariana declared. Words of fealty were only that; words. Emotions came and went, especially at Kyre’s age. At her own age. Still, Kyre’s lack of arrogance had astonished her. “Chancellor, if it is possible, perhaps the Royal Army could watch over Kyre, while he is in Anschulz?” The prospect of marrying Kyre Falco was disturbing, but at least she knew him. His younger brother Talen was unquestionably a Falco to his core; arrogant, ruthless and fiercely loyal to their father. The thought of marrying Kyre made Ariana sick to her stomach. The thought of marrying Talen filled her with fear.

  Britta Falco, duchess of Burwyck and wife to Regin, stormed into her husband’s private study and ordered all the servants out. They knew to comply so they did, without even a glance at the duke who was their liege lord. Whenever Britta and Regin had a row, it was epic, and no servant wished to be caught in the middle.

  When the last servant closed the heavy door behind him, Regin asked wearily “How have I vexed you this time, my dear heart?” He reached for his wineglass and downed the last third of it in one gulp.

  “How dare you?! How dare you put our eldest son’s life at risk, without consulting me?”

  “Please, my dearest love, lower your voice.” Regin pleaded. Their marriage was not a particularly happy one, both having married for family advantage rather than love, yet they had reached a compromise over the years. More of cease fire than a compromise, Regin considered. One of the way they picked at each other was to use terms of endearment that neither truly felt. “Britta, my dear. Please, sit, so we may speak privately,” Regin said softly, with a glance toward the door. The door was indeed heavy, and it was no ordinary door. Years ago, Regin had paid a large sum of money to a dwarf wizard, so that the door would be utterly soundproof. The same magical treatment had been given to the two sets of windows, which Regin now closed, despite the heat of the day.

  Britta consented resentfully to sit down. “Have you considered, my dearest love, that Kyre’s life will be in great danger every day after the wedding? Your agreement is only that Ariana marry Kyre, not that the marriage last a certain length of time to be effective.”

  “Be calm, my sweet,” Regin poured himself a splash of wine. Now that he knew what his wife was upset about, he could sip the wine slowly and enjoy it. “A monarch cannot end a marriage without the votes of four members of the Council. Ariana will never get four votes.”

  “A marriage can easily be ended by a knife,” Britta hissed. “Or a drop of poison,” she looked meaningfully at her husband’s wine glass.

  Regin was suddenly not thirsty at all. He pushed the wine glass away. “Certainly, there will be a measure of danger shortly after the wedding. Once Kyre and Ariana have a baby, an heir to the throne, Kyre will be safe. No mother would harm the father of her children,” Regin said with a questioning raised eyebrow.

  “No,” Britta responded, after a pause longer than Regin was comfortable with. “Most wives would never do such a thing. Kyre’s future wife is not the only consideration. The queen will be surrounded by many people; many ruthless, unscrupulous people, who would gladly act behind the queen’s back. People who may believe they are acting in the queen’s best interest. Or acting purely in their own interests. Have you given thought to the notion that the Trehaymes might accept an heir to the throne who is a Falco by blood, but they would never accept an heir who had been raised as a Falco? With Kyre out of the way, any child of his would be raised as a Trehayme. Kyre would be an obstacle to the Trehaymes retaining the throne.”

  His wife sat stiffly, unyielding. “What shall we speak of?”

  Regin took a sip of wine. It was good. “We shall speak of plans. My dear, you mentioned that a marriage may be ended by a knife, or a drop of poison. Or by many other means. After a baby is born, Kyre’s life will not be the only one in danger. Consider this; if our future queen Ariana were to suffer a terrible fate, then her child could not be left unprotected. I, with you by my side, would be forced to step in, legally forced to step in, to assume guardianship of the child. And Kyre would be the logical choice to act as Regent, until our grandchild is ready to become king, or queen, is their own right. If such a terrible thing were to happen to Ariana, our grandchild would be raised properly as a Falco.

  “You propose to play a dangerous game, husband,” Britta breathed, taken aback by the scope and boldness of Regin’s plan. “With our son’s life, and our lives, in the balance.”

  “Our lives are always at risk, dearest,” Regin said dryly. “With the enemy at our borders, the game of power we play, between the royal families of Tarador may be the least of the dangers we face.”

  Britta pursed her lips. She was not a passive player in the game of power; she had often participated and even instigated her husband’s schemes. Some of his decisions, such as lending far too much money to Duke Bargann in an attempt to make Farlane province an effective vassal of the Falcos, she had not agreed with. Most of Regin’s machinations had worked in the favor of their family. That did not mean she always trusted his judgement. Especially his judgement rega
rding the Trehaymes. Regin was too often blinded by his overwhelming desire to see the throne of Tarador restored to the Falcos. That would be his legacy, and it seemed to be all he thought about most days. The quest to restore the throne to the Falco family consumed Regin; it motivated him, but it also could severely affect his judgement. “Love of my heart,” she kept the sarcasm from her voice, “I, too, play this game that you obsess over.” Britta Falco was a Falco by birth, she was a third cousin to Regin and a baroness in her own right. “You have sent Kyre into danger in Anschulz. I pray that you not risk our son’s life unnecessarily. Or unwisely.” The duchess left the room abruptly, without bothering to use a mocking term of endearment for her husband.

  Regin Falco sat quietly by himself, contemplating his wife’s words. The warm feelings he had toward his future daughter-in-law were quickly wearing off, and he rebuked himself for having been emotionally soft. Ariana was a Trehayme; there could never be good relations between her and the Falcos, regardless of the circumstances. Ariana was a means to an end, and Regin needed to be ruthless about attaining that end.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When Niles Forne told Kyre Falco that the heir to Burwyck province was ordered to leave Linden, for the supposed purpose of commanding the Falco battalion on their way to support the Royal Army in Anschulz, Kyre simply nodded. He did not ask any questions, he did not protest, and he did not complain. What he did do was go immediately to his apartment in the Falco estate, pack his weapons and a few personal belongings, and alert his personal guards that they would be departing in half an hour. His pair of personal guards were used to getting short notice of Kyre traveling, so they had bags already packed and ready. In less than an hour from receiving the news from Forne, Kyre and his two guards rode out through the stable gate, setting his horse at an easy gallop through the countryside that surrounded Linden. When they reached the main road north, he slowed his horse to a steady trot that would assure covering much ground before nightfall.