The trueblood lord said, “You fool! You think that I’m a hostage? There are a dozen of my so-called ‘allies’ who would happily watch you slice my throat so they might advance their own agendas. Beruck certainly won’t surrender his position to save me.”
James said, “Bring him along,” and hurried to the door. “Things are still in flux. If we hurry straight to the Empress’s throne room, we might get there in time.”
Borric motioned to Ghuda to drag along Nirome and entered the room where Toren Sie lay still unconscious. Borric rousted him and got him to his feet. “Come with us, your Excellency.”
They reached a hall and Borric asked his brother, “Which way?”
Erland pointed and led the way. James and Gamina took up the rear as Ghuda Bulé ensured the two trueblood prisoners gave them no trouble.
They moved down several long halls, past a half dozen or more servants who gave them wide berth seeing weapons drawn. Two guards of the Imperial Household ran down the far end of a long hall, away from Borric and Erland’s party, and Borric held up his hand. “We run into even a pair of guards and we have problems.”
“How to get past them without a brawl?” asked James.
“It should be easy,” said Nakor. “You just follow me. And bring these fellows along.”
Nirome warned, “As soon as we see another company of guards, you’ll be prisoners. Men loyal to Awari control this entire sector of the palace.”
Nakor grinned. “Maybe.”
When they reached the occupied hallway, where they would begin to pass dozens of guards, Nakor reached into his rucksack and pulled something out of it. Borric and Ghuda were almost blasé about the sack at this point, but everyone else was astonished. For as the little Isalani brought his hand up, perched upon it was the red-and-golden-speckled falcon, the royal bird of Kesh, and most revered and holy symbol of the Empress’s power. It was a bird thought to be almost extinct—three females were all that remained in the Imperial mews. The falcon shrieked and spread his wings, but remained upon the little man’s wrist as he moved down the hall.
They reached an intersection of two halls where a half dozen men wearing the uniforms of the Imperial Household guard approached. Seeing Lords Nirome and Toren Sie, and the royal falcon, they stopped and moved aside, gaping at the splendid bird. Nakor said to each sentry he passed, “Please, come with us. We go to see the Empress.”
Both trueblood captives started to say something, and were quickly silenced by Ghuda’s slapping each across the face. No matter what Nirome or Toren Sie said, the guards seemed mesmerized by the sight of the falcon. They joined in behind the Islemen and their captive band and soon a procession of two dozen guards followed Nakor and his companions as they entered the hall of the Empress. The entire Gallery of Lords and Masters was in extraordinary session when the odd procession entered the hall.
The Master of Ceremonies said, “What is this?”
Borric and Erland both came forward and Erland said, “The Princes Borric and Erland of the Isles wish an immediate audience with Her Majesty. We wish to discuss a small matter of treason.”
The Empress sat on the throne as the party entered. “You dare invade my throne room with weapons drawn?”
James and Gamina hurried to the dais and Borric directed the handful of Imperial Guards. “I want four men each at those three entrances,” he said. To the Master of Ceremonies he said, “Send every servant to the lower palace, and find as many Imperial Guards as you can. Spread the word: the Inner Legion is in rebellion and General Beruck is attacking the Empress!” When the Master of Ceremonies hesitated, he shouted, “Hurry man, you have but minutes. The Empress’s life is in danger!”
The man nodded and motioned for the dozen servants nearby, ordering them out of the great hall quickly and to do as Borric instructed.
Borric motioned for Erland, Ghuda, and Nakor to join him at the foot of the dais. To the guards he shouted, “If those two try to leave”—he pointed at Nirome and Toren Sie—“stop them.”
Hurrying up the dais, Borric found Gamina standing next to the Empress. “Majesty,” said Borric, “forgive the informality of our arrival, but I’m afraid we have little choice in the matter.”
“Unless I’m mistaken, sir, you’re supposed to be dead. What are you doing, may I ask?” the Empress demanded.
Borric turned his back on the Empress as he said, “Trying to save your life, madam, and the Empire as well.”
To the twelve honor guards still in the room he shouted, “If anyone wearing black armor attempts to enter the throne room, kill him.” To the assembled members of the Gallery of Lords and Masters he said, “Sirs! There is treason afoot. Any man who approaches this dais will be stopped!” Several of the nobles in the room had started toward the throne when the brothers and their companions mounted the steps of the dais.
They hesitated and Erland shouted, “General Beruck and the Inner Legion are in rebellion. Any man who is loyal to the Empress can prove it by supporting those guards at the door!”
Fully a dozen of the younger members of the Gallery hurried to the doors, even those who were armed only with ceremonial daggers. They clearly were resolved to defend the Empress with their lives if need be.
From outside the hall, the sounds of distant conflict carried to the throne. “Now it begins,” said Erland to James.
The Empress asked, “What now?”
Borric looked at his brother, then to the Empress and said, “We wait, and hope.”
Nakor moved past the twins and came to stand on the Empress’s right hand. To Nakor she said, “Little man, you know that to possess the royal falcon is a sentence of death, do you not?”
Nakor grinned. “Yes, Empress. But I do not possess this bird. I am merely providing the falcon transport to your august self. I’m just bringing you a birthday present.” Without waiting for permission, the audacious little Isalani moved past the Empress. Behind the throne was the empty sun symbol. He set the bird atop it and the falcon flapped his wings.
The Empress said, “Only a male can perch upon the royal sun, Isalani.”
“Nakor understands, Empress. This one is a boy. He will father many falcon hatchlings for you. I caught him last spring in the mountains west of Tao Zi. There are a few more up there, too. If you send your Imperial falconer, he can bring them to the mews. The line will be revived.”
Since the death of her daughter, the Empress had not smiled. Now she did. Something in the little man’s words touched her, and she knew he was speaking not only of the rare birds, but of the Royal House as well. “This is a gift of stunning splendor.” Looking at the armed men surrounding her, waiting for an attack, she said, “Let’s believe in omens, shall we? I would like to live long enough to see some hatchlings in the mews.”
Minutes dragged past, and they waited. The sounds of struggle grew louder, and Borric said, “Sounds like someone’s tipped a hand.”
James nodded. “If the Imperial Guards are still loyal, the Inner Legionaries in the palace will have to fight their way here.”
The Empress said, “My guards are loyal, as are my Izmalis.”
James smiled and said, “Remind me, Majesty, to tell you a story about some Izmalis I encountered some years back in Krondor. You might think again about hiring such.” He hefted his sword as the sounds of conflict grew louder.
Then suddenly the fighting spilled into the Great Hall of the Empire. The half dozen men at each door were pushed back by a flood of black-clad soldiers in the garb of the Inner Legion. A few were being fought by Imperial Guards wearing their white kilts and weapons harnesses, but the struggle was clearly out of hand.
“Get ready,” said James, as the first of the Legionaries reached the foot of the dais.
“Stop!”
Men throughout the room hesitated, for the voice was imperial. The Empress stood before the throne, her wizened body now vital and strong, years of expecting immediate obedience suffusing her manner. She motioned with one arm
, to the falcon now perched on the golden disc of the sun and again she shouted, “Stop! Your Empress commands you!”
Men paused. Black-clad legionaries glanced from one to another, their loyalty to their commander held in check by almost mindless obedience to the Empress. Whatever plans were afoot, most of them were not party to them, as they were only soldiers following orders.
Then a tall figure strode into the room and shouted, “Surrender, Lakeisha!”
General Beruck moved past men who were no longer fighting, but who were poised to renew the struggle if anyone made a false move.
“You dare, Beruck?” demanded the Empress. “You dare treason?”
The General moved to stand just beyond Erland’s reach and shouted, “Treason? Is it treason to wish this nation returned to greatness? Is it treason to wish strong hands once more holding the reins of power? Your day is past, old woman. Step aside and proclaim your abdication and you will be permitted to retire to one of your estates in the country where you can live out your days.”
The Empress laughed bitterly. “And how long will that be, Beruck? Four days, five?” She waved away any answer. “You may kill me, but no one will serve you. Your legions may hold the palace, even the city, today, but within days those loyal to the throne will reclaim the city. Will you rule smoking rubble for a few days and call that glorious victory?” She looked at the other men in the hall. Pointing at Beruck, Nirome, and Toren Sie, she said, “These three are traitors! I expect we shall find they were responsible for the death of Princess Sojiana. Any man who lays down his sword and refuses to fight for them will be pardoned. Any man who fights on their behalf will be destroyed, as will every member of his family.”
Several of the Legionaries in the room stepped back, and a few put down weapons. Seeing the moment slip away, General Beruck shouted in rage and attacked.
Erland was closest, and dodged inside the man, throwing a shoulder into his midsection, knocking him away from the Empress, while Borric’s blade darted out and parried the General’s blow at the Empress.
James was cut off from attacking the leader of the Imperial Legion, so he moved to put himself between the Empress and any threat. Get her behind the throne, he instructed Gamina.
He didn’t need to look to know his wife was following his instructions.
Several of Beruck’s men remained loyal to him, and a struggle in the room erupted. Erland was closest to the General, and found himself facing a powerful man with unnatural speed. The flurry of blows he contended with almost caused him to expose his left side to a vicious slash. He could hear Borric shout, “Keep that left side protected!”
Remembering the last wound he had endured there, Erland shouted, “If you’d care to step in, I’ll be more than happy to yield to you, brother!” He barely avoided having his skull split from a wicked overhand chop.
“Thanks, but I’m a bit busy myself,” Borric shouted, as he dodged one Legionary’s attack and almost skewered himself on a second man’s blade.
James was perhaps the finest swordsman in Krondor after Prince Arutha and he slashed and lunged at any black-clad warrior who got within two steps of the throne.
Ghuda was wreaking havoc with his large sword, but more men flooded into the hall by the minute.
Erland was hard pressed and slowly gave ground, and then his heel struck the first step of the dais and he knew he had no room to maneuver. With a shout of frustration, he leaped directly at the General, managing to get within the larger man’s sword reach. Driving his shoulder into Beruck’s stomach, he tackled him and drove him hard to the stone floor of the hall. The general landed with an audible grunt of pain and Borric didn’t hesitate, but drew back his sword and slammed the hilt into the side of the General’s head.
Then Beruck’s hand reached up and seized the front of Erland’s tunic, and he yanked the Prince forward, slamming his chin into the floor. Erland’s head swam and he saw bright lights for an instant, and he knew that he would probably feel cold steel in the next moment. He blinked his eyes to clear his vision and saw Beruck lying on his back, his left hand gripping Erland’s tunic, and right hand drawn back with his sword poised for a killing blow. But he remained motionless.
Borric stood over the General with his sword point at the man’s throat and calmly said, “Let go of my little brother.” When Beruck didn’t respond instantly, Borric applied pressure and drew a trickle of blood with the point of his sword. “Please?” he asked.
The General let his sword fall from his fingers.
Borric shouted, “Beruck is taken!”
But the fighting continued, and Borric realized that he had only a moment’s advantage before he was forced to either kill the General and hope that ended the revolt, or be overwhelmed.
Suddenly the air split with a tremendous shriek of whistles. Borric had to fight to keep from removing his sword from Beruck’s throat. Though he doubted the General would be in any shape to attempt to escape, as both he and Erland lay on the floor covering their ears.
Then the horrific noise stopped, and Borric turned to see Nakor standing next to the throne, removing a reed whistle from his lips. With a grin he said, “Pretty loud, isn’t it?” and put it back in his sack.
Whether by magic or just from shock, the fight seemed to go out of those in the room. From a distance came a new commotion, and Borric wasn’t about to wait to see if reinforcements for the Legion were arriving. He reached down and grabbed Erland by the arm and hauled him upright, all the time keeping his sword point at Beruck’s throat.
Men suddenly flooded into the room, though these were dressed in the garments of the Order of the Imperial Charioteers as well as those of the Imperial Guards. Many were splattered in blood. The servants sent by the Master of Ceremonies had found loyal soldiers, and Borric let out a long sigh.
Glancing upward at James he asked, “Is it over?”
Coming around from her place of safety behind the throne, the Empress looked at the carnage in the seat of power for the Empire, in the very Gallery of Lords and Masters, and said, “Hardly, my young friend. I believe it’s just started.” To the freshly arrived guards she pointed to Beruck, Nirome, and Toren Sie and said, “Bind them.”
Quickly those of the Inner Legion in the hall were disarmed and couriers were sent to discover the condition of the struggle in other parts of the palace. The Empress said, “We’ll have some food and drink sent to my private chambers, young Princes.” Glancing around at the blood-splattered floors and walls, she said, “It’s been a long night, and it will be a long day tomorrow. But at least we’ll see the dawn.”
Borric put up his sword and nodded. “Yes, Majesty. We will.”
Despite having no sleep for two days, the Empress looked regal as she sat once more on her throne, casting an almost loving look at the falcon who perched on the sun disc behind her. By what magic, Borric couldn’t know, or just by dint of a thousand willing servants, but the great hall that housed the Gallery of Lords and Masters was spotless, free of any sign of the struggle of the night before.
Borric and his companions had sat in council with the Empress and the remaining advisors whom she trusted. Erland and Borric had held the undivided attention of everyone in the chamber as they wove together their separate accounts, attempting to make sense of all that had transpired since the desert raid. They spoke without interruption for nearly an hour. By the end of the telling, the Empress was convinced, and she had asked the party from the Isles, along with Nakor and Ghuda, to depart, to refresh themselves and eat, for she would have them back at court at first light.
Borric now wore his own clothing, from among those bags not stolen by the raiders in the desert. His hair was its own natural color, with blond tips, the dye having been washed out with some foul-smelling lotion that Nakor provided. James looked from one twin to the other. The difference between the two of them was noticeable. Borric was thinner than Erland, the combination of difficult travel and meager food having given him a harder look,
a more weathered and tougher face.
James considered how much the boys had changed since leaving Krondor. Both had proven themselves worthy heirs of a great family name, and he had said more than one prayer of thanks to the gods for delivering Borric unharmed.
At the Empress’s order, the three prisoners were half-walked, half-dragged into the chamber. It was clear that all three had spent the last few hours with the Imperial interrogators, for their faces were distorted with bruises and cuts, and their bodies were covered in burns and lacerations. Toren Sie could barely walk and sobbed uncontrollably.
General Beruck’s defiance had been reduced to sullen resignation, and he staggered a little as he walked.
Lord Nirome, though, was almost defiant, glaring at the Empress through two puffy eyes. Dried blood caked his face and despite numerous artifacts of his interrogation, he walked into the throne room under his own power.
The mood in the gallery was subdued, for at this point no lord or master could be certain if the man sitting next to him was loyal or a traitor. The Imperial Inquisitor entered the hall. He bowed and the Empress waved him to approach. He mounted the dais and leaned over, whispering in her ear.
She nodded and he retreated. Looking around the room, she said, “My Lords and Masters. These three are guilty of treason. They have implicated others. Those of you in this hall who know of your guilt, I give you two choices. You may retire now, make your good-byes to your families, and with whatever dignity you can manage, you may take your own lives by midday. I will seize all but that which your wives and children can carry from their homes by sundown.
“If you do not admit your complicity, I will have you in a cage on the city wall by sundown. And then I will have killed every member of your family—your mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, your children, your grandchildren, to a baby in the womb. None will be spared. Those are your choices.”
Nearly two dozen men slowly rose and started to depart the hall. Borric glanced at Erland and his brother took his meaning.
Prince of the Blood Page 38
