by John Marco
‘Excellent,’ muttered Leth. ‘I can’t beat you today.’
Alazrian almost laughed. Or any other day, he thought.
‘Father?’ he called. ‘May I speak with you?’
Leth seemed surprised. He was about to nock another arrow, but lowered his bow as the boy approached, eyeing him curiously. Alazrian could see his annoyance.
‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ said Alazrian. ‘I wanted to talk to you about something.’
‘About what?’
‘Grandfather says you’re going after Jahl Rob. Is that right?’
‘What if it is?’
Alazrian straightened. ‘I want to go, too.’
‘You want to . . . ?’ Leth glanced at Shinn and started laughing. ‘Look, boy, this is a job for men. It’s dangerous, and no place for you.’
‘I want to go,’ said Alazrian again, measuring his tone carefully. He didn’t want Leth to think him petulant, but he couldn’t reveal his reasons, either. To be convincing, he had to play the eager boy. ‘Like I told you on the ship, I’m ready now. I can help, if you’ll let me.’
Exasperated, Leth shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, then turned away to study the target.
‘But why not?’ pressed Alazrian. ‘Father, I can ride, and I’m stronger than I look. If you give me a chance, I won’t disappoint you. I promise.’ Alazrian put on his most imploring face. ‘Let me prove myself to you. Please?’
For a moment Leth appeared ready to strike Alazrian, but then his face contorted into something like a smile. He considered the proposition, looking between Alazrian and Shinn. Finally, he lowered his bow to the ground and leaned against it.
‘All right, then,’ he said. ‘If you believe in yourself so much, let’s see you prove it. I could do with a real son. Maybe this patrol will make a man of you.’
Inwardly, Alazrian grinned. Leth could be so gullible sometimes. ‘Thank you, Father,’ he said. ‘And you’ll see. I won’t disappoint you.’
Elrad Leth nodded, his impatience showing. ‘That’s fine. Now run along and let me practice.’
Alazrian thanked his father one more time then hastily returned to the castle. He had done it. Leth had actually believed him.
I should be an actor, he told himself. Now all he had to do was find the lion riders. And if his lucky streak lasted, the lion riders might just find him first.
As Elrad Leth watched his so-called son walk away, the oddest feeling of bitterness engulfed him. He had never really liked Alazrian, barely tolerating him for the sake of his marriage and his precarious position in the king’s good graces. But this latest outrage had sent him over the edge, and he strained to keep himself from firing his bow in the boy’s direction. Alazrian was growing more arrogant by the day. The same changes that were bringing manhood to his body were emboldening him as well, giving him the backbone to challenge authority. Normally, Elrad Leth wouldn’t have minded such traits in a son. Courage was a good thing in a boy and worth encouraging.
But Alazrian had never been his son, and he had known it from the moment his white head had emerged from the womb. Sixteen years ago, Lady Calida had played the whore for a journeying Triin, opening her legs under the hypnotic spell of misplaced love. In those days, Triin travellers to the Empire were common, part of Arkus’ cultural exchange, and though Elrad Leth had never learned the true identity of Calida’s paramour, he was certain from Alazrian’s milk-colored hair that the offending lover had been Triin. He had loved Calida once, but from that day on his love had been smothered. Now, thanks to cancer, he was rid of his slut wife, but the product of her whoring still mocked him. Until today, he had never thought of a convincing alibi for being rid of Alazrian.
‘Shinn?’ he said, his voice shaking.
‘Yes?’
‘When we get back to Aramoor, I want you to take a patrol into the mountains to find Jahl Rob.’
‘Yes,’ said Shinn calmly. ‘I know that.’
‘And Shinn?’
‘What?’
Elrad Leth turned to his bodyguard. ‘Take Alazrian with you. See that some harm comes to him.’
Twelve
Two days after coming ashore, Kasrin and Biagio were still awaiting Jelena’s answer.
The queen had sequestered herself in the mansion, refusing to speak to her Naren guests. Kasrin supposed she was surrounded by advisors trying to decide what to do about Biagio’s proposition. Time had taken on a sluggish quality, and while Kasrin waited for word from his Lissen captors, he whiled away the hours exploring the mansion. Unlike Biagio, who was confined to a single wing of the villa, Kasrin had been granted full run of the place. He was allowed to roam the grounds as he pleased, to talk to whoever he wished, and to take advantage of the gardens. The only thing Kasrin wasn’t permitted to do was contact his ship, and that restriction irked him. He could see the Dread Sovereign from shore, bobbing at anchor, still surrounded by a flotilla of Lissen schooners. His big dreadnought looked impotent, like a muzzled wolf. For Kasrin, not being able to speak to his crew was the worst part of his captivity. If not for that, he might actually have enjoyed himself.
Biagio had often bragged about Crote during the voyage. He had said it was the most splendid place in the Empire, and Kasrin had no reason to doubt it. The air was perfumed by the sea and a plethora of flowers, and even so early in spring the sun was warm. Though the mansion had been turned into a fortress, it still bore the stamp of its grand architecture, revealing Crote’s magnificent vistas through huge balconies and windows of stained glass that caught the sun at perfect angles. For a prison, Biagio’s mansion was a kind of heaven, and the angels were all the platinum-topped Lissens. Surprisingly, Kasrin had grown accustomed to them. They were curious and generally polite, and they were striking to behold – something like Biagio with his lean, androgynous body and flawless skin. Kasrin had seen Lissens before, but he had never really noticed them, nor appreciated the delicate difference between them and his own race. They were human, of course, but in a way they were inhuman, too. Sometimes he felt strangely inferior.
It was the afternoon of his second day on Crote when Kasrin discovered the little pond hidden on the east side of the villa. Here was the only place Jelena’s engineers hadn’t destroyed with trenches, probably because it was thickly forested and already provided an adequate defense. It was also a good distance from the main house. Bored with the same surroundings, Kasrin had blundered into the wooded area, ignoring the curious stares of the Lissens patrolling the grounds. Apparently, Jelena’s orders allowed him to roam any place he wished to go, so he tested his freedom by disappearing into the thicket of trees. The guards didn’t follow. It was then that he discovered the pond.
He parted the trees with his hands to reveal a perfectly still body of water broken only by the ripples of jumping fish. Kasrin gave a happy laugh when he spotted it. There was a path of cobblestones laid carefully around its perimeter and a varied collection of blue and orange flowers coming into bloom. Near its closest bank, sitting alone and unremembered, was a small stone bench, its white surface partially overgrown with moss. Kasrin stepped closer, curious about the bench and the charming setting. It seemed the kind of place a man might take a secret lover. Birds that had abandoned the rest of the estate sang in the trees and hopped through the tangle of branches, eyeing the intruder. Kasrin was careful not to make a sound as he went to stand beside the little bench. He knelt down before it, studying its simple design. He half expected to see Biagio’s name chiseled into it, some sort of prankish reminder from the emperor’s youth. But the bench was pristine, except for the fingers of moss. Kasrin brushed the seat with his palm, removing the moss the best he could, then sat down and admired the world he’d discovered.
‘Beautiful,’ he whispered.
Lately, Kasrin had been thinking a lot about Nar and the little fishing village he’d been calling home. He’d been drinking too much and using his head too little, and it w
as all catching up to him. Being back aboard the Sovereign had cleared his thinking. It was good to be out on the waves again. And even Nicabar couldn’t take everything away from him, he decided. He picked up a stone from the ground, selecting a good smooth one, and tossed it sideways into the pond, letting it skip across the surface.
‘Three jumps,’ he mused, watching the stone bounce. ‘Not bad.’
But he could do better, he decided, so retrieved a handful of stones this time, selecting the best of them for tossing, and began trying to beat his own record. Soon he was on his feet doing his best to reach five jumps. As he played he thought of his ship out on the sea, and of Biagio stuck in his gilded cage impatiently pacing as he awaited word from the queen. Then, Kasrin started to think about Jelena. The image of the child queen brought a smile to his face. She was very beautiful. She had the same captivating look as all her people, but taken to a level beyond. From the moment he had seen her, Kasrin had been enthralled. How old is she? he wondered. No more than eighteen, surely. She carried herself like a much older woman, but her skin had the tightness of a teenager and her voice had the crystalline clearness of youth. Truly, she was a child queen.
Half an hour later, Kasrin had exhausted the fun of skipping stones and clapped the dirt from his hands. He sat back down on the bench. The sun was high overhead, but Kasrin had nowhere to go. Since he wasn’t hungry yet, there seemed no reason to head back to the mansion, and he didn’t care to visit with Biagio, whose mood had been particularly foul since coming to Crote. Kasrin assumed the awful sight of his ruined villa had shaken the emperor. Kasrin almost pitied him. Surely having one’s home violated was a terrible thing.
‘Maybe that’s why they did it,’ he considered.
It made sense, after all. Liss had been violated by Narens, all under the orders of Renato Biagio. Now it was payback for the emperor and his fancy home.
‘What a waste,’ whispered Kasrin, shaking his head. The ten-year siege of Liss, its bloody aftermath, even his career in the fleet; it was all a pointless farce. And according to Biagio, it had brought the Empire to the brink of ruin. These days, Kasrin didn’t know what to believe, but his trust in Biagio was growing.
‘Captain Kasrin?’ someone called.
The voice startled Kasrin. He turned to see three figures at the outskirts of the trees. Amazingly, one of them was Queen Jelena. The young woman was sandwiched between two Lissen guards, both of whom wore disapproving frowns. But Jelena’s face was more impassive, impossible to read. She tilted her head as she looked at the captain, studying him.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
Kasrin stood at once. ‘Is there something wrong? I was told I could go anywhere I wished.’
Jelena didn’t answer. One of the guardians whispered in her ear, a man Kasrin remembered seeing two days ago. Timrin; was that his name? Queen Jelena nodded at his words, then took a step forward. Timrin protested, but Jelena waved him off.
‘Go,’ she told her men. ‘I want to speak with the captain alone.’
Both men scowled at Kasrin, warning him to behave, then fell back behind the tree line. Kasrin watched Jelena come forward, carefully lifting the hem of her dress to avoid the loamy earth. She looked as delicate as a rose but her face revealed her thorns. Her expression was hard as she approached the captain. Kasrin decided not to be intimidated.
‘I did nothing wrong,’ he said. ‘Your men saw me come in here and didn’t stop me.’
‘I know that,’ Jelena acknowledged. ‘It was they who told me where to find you. I haven’t come to scold you, Captain Kasrin.’
‘Oh? Then why are you here?’
Queen Jelena bristled at his directness. ‘Because I need some answers.’ She sat on the bench, arranging her emerald skirt around her legs. When she looked up at Kasrin, her expression shifted. ‘You’re surprised to see me, I can tell. Please don’t be afraid.’
‘I’m not afraid,’ Kasrin scoffed, but he actually was a bit nervous and it annoyed him. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I’ve been thinking for two days now, Captain. You and your emperor have given me much to consider. I’ve been unable to reach a conclusion.’
‘Understandable,’ said Kasrin. He was studying Jelena, only half-listening. She was lovely, and the setting only enhanced her beauty.
‘My advisors and friends all have opinions about what we should do with you and Biagio,’ Jelena continued. ‘Some say we should believe you. Others think that Biagio is a lying devil and should be fed to the sharks.’
‘Very comforting,’ said Kasrin sourly. ‘And you? What do you think?’
Jelena sighed. ‘I do not know what to believe.’
‘And that’s why you’re here.’
The queen nodded. ‘I realized something after two days of arguing and thinking. It occurred to me that none of us knows what we’re talking about. We don’t really understand Narens or your Empire. And Biagio is a great mystery.’
Suddenly Kasrin understood. ‘My lady, you’ve come under a false assumption,’ he said. ‘I don’t really know Biagio any better than you do.’
‘Oh, but you must,’ said Jelena. ‘You’re his loyal captain, after all. He said so.’
‘I think you misunderstand. It’s all circumstantial, my involvement with Biagio. Really, I hardly know him at all.’
Jelena frowned. ‘I can’t accept that,’ she said. ‘You’ve come here asking for help, and all you offer is riddles. Well it isn’t good enough, Captain. If you want us to help you, you’re going to have to start cooperating.’
‘Easy, now,’ Kasrin warned. ‘Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your servants. If you have questions, ask them. But I won’t be interrogated.’
The queen’s expression softened. ‘I meant no offense. You have to understand how difficult this is for me. You are Naren, an officer of the Black Fleet. Forgive me, but I don’t know how to react to you.’
‘I understand that,’ said Kasrin. Getting used to the Lissens had been hard for him, too, and he realized what a danger he must seem to the queen. He was like a snake coming into a bird’s nest. Jelena was only protecting her chicks. ‘Do me one favor, though. Don’t judge me. You don’t know what I’ve been through to get here.’
‘No, I don’t,’ agreed Jelena. ‘That’s the problem. But I would like to know, if you’ll tell me.’
Kasrin shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘But it does, don’t you see? This is why I’ve come to you. I need to understand you if I’m to trust you at all. I have many questions. If they aren’t answered, how can I agree to help your emperor?’ Jelena’s tone became imploring. ‘Tell me about Nicabar.’
‘What about him?’
‘He is your enemy, yes?’
Kasrin chuckled. ‘Most definitely.’
‘Why? Biagio says you are not an enemy of Liss. He says that you refused to fight us. That intrigues me, Captain. I’ve never known a Naren seaman to think kindly toward my people. Explain this to me.’
Kasrin began pacing slowly around the bench. Jelena watched him circle for a minute, then patted the seat next to her, asking him to sit. Kasrin was surprised at the offer but accepted gratefully, and the warmth of her body next to his was intoxicating.
‘Where should I start?’ he wondered.
Jelena shrugged. ‘At the beginning.’
So Kasrin began, and the tale made the young queen’s eyes widen. He described his feud with Nicabar, brokered by his constant refusal to join the admiral’s war. He told her about the Dread Sovereign and its crew, how fine a ship she was and the agony of being landlocked, punished, and called a coward for refusing to butcher Lissens. And he confessed his fears over what might have happened to him, describing Naren justice and the power Nicabar held in his hands, so capable of crushing a single innocent life. Then, to his surprise, he told Jelena about Biagio. The emperor had helped him, he said, offering him one last chance at vindication.
Finally, his story fini
shed, he looked at the queen and smiled weakly. ‘That’s it. That’s everything.’
‘I don’t know what to say. It’s . . . Unbelievable.’
‘Every word is true, Queen Jelena. Whether you believe it or not.’
‘So that’s why you’re going after Nicabar? For revenge?’
‘Isn’t that good enough? Isn’t that why you want him yourself?’
