by Sam Bowring
‘To put it mildly.’
‘High Mage,’ said Bel, his voice returning smoothly to normal, ‘you never told me she was buried here.’
‘What?’ said Fahren, then glanced down at the grave Bel was indicating. ‘Oh.’ His expression became sad. ‘Yes. She was brought here afterwards and given a place in the Inviolable for her great sacrifice. It was only right, considering who she saved.’
In the grave lay a blonde woman in a white dress, her arms folded across her chest, not much older than Bel was now.
‘She looks peaceful,’ observed Bel quietly.
‘Who was she?’ said Jaya.
Bel pointed at the quartz headstone, carved with shining heart flowers and the name ‘Elessa Lanclara’.
‘If not for her …’ he began, but trailed off. If not for her then what? I would be whole? And living where? His thinking turned to white noise, and he shook his head to clear it. ‘She was the one who came to Whisperwood to fetch me. I told you about her – she fought the undead abomination Fazel and rescued me, I suppose you could say.’
‘Ah,’ said Jaya, and looked again upon Elessa. ‘Guess I owe her thanks, then.’
‘As do we all,’ said Fahren. ‘I think,’ he added, shooting Bel a reproachful stare. ‘Come, it is time to bury Naphur.’
They made their way to the other mourners, where Bel went on bended knee before the Lady Raina.
‘My condolences, my lady,’ he said. He had never spoken to Raina before, for she was a withdrawn woman, sometimes sickly and not always on the best terms with Naphur, from whom she’d kept her quarters separate. ‘And my apologies. I came to honour your husband, not to start a commotion.’
‘Rise, Blade Bel,’ she replied, and seemed to search for something more to say. In the end she simply turned away. Do you blame me for the death of your son? wondered Bel. Or your husband?
The ceremony began. The Halls’ new High Overseer, and thus the replacement for Baygis, was a woman of about fifty called Varta. She spoke as Naphur’s casket was carried through the crowd, offering prayers for his soul’s safe passage to the Well. Inside the glass Naphur lay on his red cape, his face dark and angry. Did he seem that way to others, or was that just how Bel remembered him?
The pallbearers lowered the Throne into the grave at the base of the monolith and stepped away.
‘And now,’ said Varta, ‘the High Mage Fahren has a few words.’
Fahren moved to the front of the assembly beside the grave. For a moment he didn’t seem to know where to begin, just stood stroking his long golden beard and staring into the grave …then he cleared his throat and spoke.
‘Today, we bury Terenus Naphur, who well earned the love and respect of his people. For them his death is a great tragedy, yet perhaps it is even greater for those of us who knew him not just as a ruler, but as a man. Many amongst you will recall his strength, his boisterous good humour, and the sense of fairness that informed both his Throneship and his personal dealings …’
Bel wasn’t sure he agreed, but tried to remember that there had been many good years before the chaotic end. He tried to recall the man who had been his friend since boyhood. And, as Fahren spoke, he learned much he hadn’t known about the Throne. He was especially interested in how, as a young soldier, Naphur had gone incognito to fight in the Dimglades campaign and been promoted to Cerepan on his own merit. Hearing about Naphur’s life made Bel feel very young all of a sudden; his anger towards the man seemed petty and spiteful – yet it persisted, tainting everything good that had come before it.
‘…He did not deserve the end that found him,’ Fahren said, finishing, ‘nor the sadness that preceded it …but I pray he will find peace in the Great Well of Arkus.’
Twin tears fell from his crystal blue eyes, straight to the ground, leaving no trace on his cheeks.
‘Farewell, my friend.’
Fahren returned to the crowd, to stand by Bel.
After him, two others spoke. First was Gerent Brahl, who commanded the forces of Borgordus. Brahl, a tall man of some sixty years with short grey hair, told a story about how he and Naphur had travelled to the Furoara Sands as younger men, where they had raced dune claws against the Saurians. After Brahl came a man Bel did not recognise – thin and with a face that was not moving well from youth to middle age. His resplendent robes marked him as a noble who would have all know it, not exactly appropriate for the sombre mood of the occasion. He moved before the assembly dabbing a silk handkerchief at his eye, as if there had been tears there.
‘It is never easy to say goodbye to a loved one,’ he began in an overly affected tone. ‘Or a family member.’
‘Apparently there’s a difference,’ muttered Fahren.
‘It is even more grievous a blow to lose a leader,’ the man continued, ‘especially at such a time of need. It has become well known that a blue-haired man has sided with our enemies – in fact it was by his hand that this …’ he waved at the grave, ‘…sacrilege was committed. My lords and ladies, the evil of Fenvarrow must not go unpunished. But perhaps we have reason to hope,’ his gaze slid to Bel, ‘that our fortunes are improving. That one now walks amongst us who can match the shadow-man. No doubt we will learn more in the coming days.’
Faces turned to Bel once more, but his expression remained stony – as if by ignoring the attention he could direct it back where it was supposed to be. More and more he was realising this had not been a wise time to unveil himself. If only he had waited but a day – so thoughtless and brash his actions had been!
‘War is coming,’ said the man, ‘and our people will need strong leadership. As my beloved cousin Naphur goes into the ground, let us pray he leaves behind fertile earth in which a new Throne may blossom.’
‘Weeds also grow in the earth,’ said Fahren quietly.
‘Who is this man?’ whispered Bel.
‘Thedd Naphur,’ said Fahren. ‘The Trusted of Tria, Naphur’s cousin. Next in line for the Throne, unfortunately.’
‘What about Lady Raina?’
‘She has long made it plain she has no interest in ruling. Besides, her health fails her. She is not what is needed.’
After a few more pompous platitudes on ‘looking ahead’ and ‘strength in unity’, Thedd rejoined his lavishly frilled cohorts.
With the formal proceedings over, the assembly lost shape. Groups peeled off, and folk went to the grave to pay their final respects. Not wishing to cause more fuss, Bel hung back – then realised he’d made himself even more visible because people were waiting for him to approach Naphur’s grave. Sighing, he followed Fahren, stood by as the old mage said his goodbyes, then took his place above Naphur and bowed his head.
Farewell, Throne , he thought lamely. The truth, Bel found, was that he felt little of anything for the man any more. He tried to remember the encouragement Naphur had always given him – all to serve a greater purpose , he supposed. Why such lack of empathy, such easy dismissal of a man I’ve known many years? he wondered. Was it as the weaver Iassia had said, when he had invaded Bel’s mind – that Bel was not whole, that there were parts of him missing? No, no, tricks only. I have spoken to Arkus himself, and he says I am the dominant personality. Losara is the small one, nothing but the tiniest speck, hardly worth having back except as a means to eliminate him forever.
‘They tell me folk often wondered why my cousin showed such avid interest in you, a simple soldier.’ Bel glanced at the man by his side, and was unable to keep irritation from his expression.
‘I guess now we know,’ Thedd continued, nodding at Bel’s hair and chuckling. ‘A recent improvement, I’m told? I hope that when I am Throne we will grow to enjoy each other’s confidence, just as you and Naphur did.’
‘Sounds easy enough,’ said Bel. ‘But the last words Naphur and I shared were far from kind.’
Thedd’s smile became a little forced. ‘You are right to be upset,’ he said. ‘I am tactless, forgive me – this is not the right occasion. We shall speak later.�
��
‘Come, Bel,’ said Fahren, mercifully appearing. ‘We have things to discuss.’
As Fahren, Bel and Jaya made their way out of the Inviolable, Gerent Brahl caught up to them. His physique did not suggest a man who was easily puffed, thought Bel, so the rosy colour in his cheeks had to be the result of something else.
‘High Mage, Blade Bel,’ said the gerent. ‘We must speak immediately.’
‘I had hoped –’ began Fahren, but Brahl cut him off.
‘I’m sorry, Fahren, I must insist. Perhaps you will be so good as to accompany me to the barracks?’
Fahren sighed. ‘Very well.’
•
They sat around a table in the meeting room. Jaya, surprisingly, had suggested she would make herself busy elsewhere. Bel had to remind himself that perhaps she did not want to be embroiled in all the fuss that seemed to accompany him wherever he went.
In the absence of a sanctified Throne, the gerent and High Mage were the two most powerful men in Kainordas – Brahl the military leader, and Fahren commanding the magical forces. Bel wasn’t sure if one technically outranked the other, but it did not seem to matter: the two men spoke as equals.
‘I shall talk plainly,’ said Brahl, seeming to relax a little now that he was in his own space. ‘Thedd was right about one thing – our need for strong leadership. I don’t know when war will come but I suspect,’ he eyed Bel closely, ‘that it will be soon. Total war, all-out war, at the end of which there will finally be a victor.’
‘I see you are a man who believes in the prophecy,’ said Fahren. ‘That is well.’
‘It is hard to ignore,’ said Brahl. ‘We know the shadow possesses a blue-haired man – and miraculously, today, one is delivered to us. I do not understand, High Mage – I thought there was meant to be but one.’
‘I shall explain,’ said Fahren. He proceeded to give the gerent a detailed account of Bel’s birth and the time that followed. Bel listened with interest, enjoying hearing a story in which he was the main character. Brahl frowned throughout but did not interrupt.
‘These are strange tidings,’ he said when Fahren was done. ‘I’m not sure I understand your motives in keeping Bel hidden. Our people have long believed the blue-haired child was lost to the shadow. It would have been good for morale had they known we still could hope. But I suppose it is done, for better or worse, and we must look to the future.’
‘Indeed,’ said Fahren. ‘Now, for what reason have you called us here?’
Brahl shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Thedd,’ he said.
‘What of him?’
‘I do not …’ Brahl screwed up his face. ‘I have never been one for subtlety, but these are difficult words to speak openly.’
‘They will not leave the room,’ said Fahren. ‘What is it, Brahl?’
‘We need someone strong to govern us, yet Thedd has no military experience – by Arkus, he’s hardly even been to court! The way he runs Tria is haphazard at best, even down to his own household. I have been there, Fahren, I have seen his servants, circles under the eyes from overlong hours and unrealistic orders. And you remember the trade fiasco with the Zyvanix?’
‘I do.’
‘And the Throne, Arkus rest him, at one stage even considered stripping Thedd of rank – perhaps you did not know I was privy to that. Does that sound like the kind of man to lead us?’
Fahren stared hard at him. ‘You want to change the traditions of a thousand years?’ he asked. ‘You are suggesting …treason?’
Brahl scowled. ‘I don’t call it treason to strive to protect our people as best we can. Will they thank me for upholding tradition if it means losing their homes and their lives? I simply don’t think Kainordas can afford such a ruler during these tumultuous times.’
‘The prophecy does not say when there will be war,’ said Fahren.
‘High Mage, they have killed our Throne, the blue-haired man is revealed, and the people clamour for revenge. Now is the time to build our army, while hearts are hot. At the very least it would be prudent. Even if war comes not tomorrow, it will be soon.’
‘Indeed,’ Fahren acceded. ‘Well, let’s say that I happen to agree with you. What is your plan?’
‘Until this morning I was going to suggest …well, that you, High Mage, take the crown. There is even precedent for High Mages doing so when a Throne in unexpectedly lost.’
Fahren turned white. ‘Not when there is a clear heir,’ he said.
‘That was before …well …’ Brahl glanced at Bel. Bel realised what the man was getting at, and mixed feelings fired through him. Imagining what he could achieve with ultimate power was interesting, yet he also knew it would be a shackle. He felt a burning desire to begin his mission to find the Stone, and he didn’t see how he could do that and also rule Kainordas. Bel had always had a love-hate relationship with his responsibility – while he enjoyed being special, he did not think he would have chosen to bear such a burden as currently rested upon his shoulders. Maybe that was why he rushed towards his goal – so that he could get it done, out of the way, then get on with the business of basking in the glory. If he was Throne, however, the responsibilities would never end, even after victory.
‘I don’t know you well, Bel,’ said the gerent. ‘Though I’ve heard some tales, especially of how you fought in Drel. Arkus knows I would have taken more interest in you had I guessed …at any rate, the people will surely rally to you. I could not imagine a more natural figurehead.’
Bel nodded. ‘And when the time comes, I will gladly lead the charge. However, I was born to fight, not to rule. You have heard Fahren speak of what I must accomplish – I have been charged by Arkus himself to retrieve the Stone of Evenings Mild. Thus, for a time at least, my path leads elsewhere.’
‘I agree,’ said Fahren. ‘A direct order from Arkus should not be ignored.’
‘I see,’ said Brahl. ‘Then I return to my original suggestion. The High Mage has always been revered, seen as powerful and wise. The best part is, I happen to know that’s true.’
Fahren shifted uncomfortably. ‘But to seize the throne – that is a little different from stepping into an interim stewardship, as has been done by High Mages in the past. It cannot be denied that Thedd is the closest blood relative to Naphur.’
‘Your reluctance is exactly why it should be you and not him,’ said Brahl. ‘We simply cannot take the risk of jeopardising everything so Thedd can play out his fantasies.’
‘But how?’
‘Easily enough,’ said Brahl. ‘I command the military, you command the mages …what does Thedd command? Some backwater fort in Tria?’
‘We still need a reason,’ cautioned Fahren. ‘We cannot simply say, “Sorry, you are not good enough.”’
Brahl licked his lips. ‘I could arrange for something to …befall him.’
Bel had not been expecting such a bold proposition. His admiration of Brahl grew – the man was obviously willing to do what it took.
‘I should not include the blue-haired man, perhaps, in such a discussion,’ added Brahl apologetically.
‘I care not,’ said Bel. ‘If Thedd stands in the way of the greater good –’
‘Unjustly eliminating the man makes things easier in the short term,’ Fahren interrupted, ‘but ultimately would not solve our problem. There are others in line to take over, some as self-interested as he. As the blood lines grow muddier there is room for debate, and civic upheaval could be more damaging right now than Thedd Naphur on the throne.’
They lapsed into silence. Bel got up and went to the window. It was so irritating that they needed to concern themselves with one silly noble when they already faced so much. He felt a rising need to do something and thought again about accepting the crown, but the idea simply did not feel right . It would mean extreme constriction at a time when he needed the freedom to move. And why did he need a crown, when the hair on his head already set him apart from, even above, all others? The people would follow him n
o matter who sat in some tall seat in the Open Halls.
‘Fahren will be Throne,’ he said, turning away from the window, ‘because I will it to be so.’
They stared at him.
‘Who will argue with me?’ he said. ‘I, the champion of the gods? Do you think any would dare?’
Behind him, through the window, the light seemed to shine a little brighter.
‘Perhaps,’ he continued, ‘when Arkus appeared to Fahren and me, he even told us that Fahren must accept the Throneship should anything befall Naphur – reluctantly, but for the greater good? Can anyone claim otherwise? The blue-haired man needs strong men behind him, and who is stronger than the Grand High Mage?’
There was an awed look in their eyes as they listened, and he knew he was convincing them.
‘Would you defy me?’ he asked. ‘Would you defy the will of Arkus? Do I even need to explain myself to you ?’
It was clearly a rehearsal for the case Bel would make before the Sun Court, but it was effective nonetheless.
‘It is no small thing to include the Sun God in a lie,’ said Fahren hesitantly.
Bel drew his sword, and it blazed in the light that streamed through the window.
‘Does it look as if he has a problem with it?’ he said.
In With the Old
The Sun Court atop the Open Castle was the fullest Fahren had ever seen it. Word had spread that two things of great import would occur here this day: the formal introduction of the blue-haired man and the appointment of the new Throne. The Open Castle was always full of representatives from the various states of Kainordas – Borgordus, Centrus, Dennali, Cindeka and Tria – but it was rare that all of them would be in attendance at the same time. Bodies crowded almost to the very edge, the lack of any wall or rail making some of the jostlers nervous, despite the magic that stopped anyone falling. Even the carpet from the stairwell to the dais, where the golden throne Borgordusmae stood shining, was packed.
Fahren began by introducing Bel to the court, which went smoothly enough. He spoke of how Bel had been kept in hiding until the time had come to show him to the world. There was some dissent over whether hiding Bel for so long had been wise, but Fahren pointed out there was little point in objecting to things that had already come to pass, and that the people should now rejoice upon hearing the good news. He moved on quickly to speak of how Arkus had appeared to Bel and himself, to give them directives, although he was deliberately unclear about when this had happened, whether it had occurred before or after Naphur’s death. He also did not go into specifics about Bel’s mission – the less public knowledge there was of that, the better.
