by A. J. Smith
Her head twitched. It didn’t rise enough for us to see her face, but for an instant, she revealed tightly-clenched teeth. Her hands left the black robe, and she clenched them against her chest. “I apologize if I caused offence,” she murmured. “One must be humble and know of one’s sins.”
*
The Dark Brethren revealed nothing more. She silently led the way, out of the vast lobby and through the surrounding courtyard. Falcon’s Watch joined us the moment we left the stone of the parliament, and I found myself enveloped in steel once again. It was an odd spectacle – a black-robed Dark Brethren hurriedly leading a column of steel-armoured Winterlord knights, with my attendants and I in the middle. I couldn’t see any onlookers, but I imagined expressions of incredulity on their faces.
News of Trego Cyclone’s death would be quickly spreading through the Silver Dawn, and I guessed this was the reason for the unnamed woman’s rapid pace. Whatever Marius Cyclone wanted, it appeared to be more urgent since his brother’s death. Perhaps some ministers would be whispering about my presence, and the words I didn’t get a chance to say, but the sudden death of an envoy was far more immediate.
“He’s evacuating the Dark Harbour,” said Silver Jack, as we were led south of the parliament. “David told us this morning. Why would the Stranger empty one of the great holds of the Eastron?”
“There’s no obvious answer to that,” I replied, making sure no one could hear me. “Nothing has changed for us. The Always King is still going to die, I still need the two pillars of rule to claim what is mine, and the Kingdom of the Four Claws may still face a civil war.”
“So what are you doing?” he asked, clearly exasperated that we were not heading for the safety of the Golden Keep. “If you have a younger brother, you should let me know. If not, you’re it, highness. You say nothing has changed? Well that counts for you as well. You’re still Prince Oliver Dawn Claw and you will be the Always King. And I will have my head cut off if I get you killed.”
The black-robed woman stopped suddenly. The Falcon’s Watch were a step behind her, though they could not halt so quickly. Their silvery armour and greatswords were wonderful in combat, but cumbersome at all other times, and we were treated to the comical sight of heavily-armoured Winterlords clanking into one another. They regained their composure, and Leofryc ordered them to fan out.
We’d been on the move for no more than ten minutes, and were now at the edge of a cluster of stone buildings. Behind, the Silver Parliament dominated the skyline, and ahead was a line of old structures, well maintained and used as residences. As the column of warriors parted, I saw a startled population of dark-skinned Brethren, hurrying away from the Winterlord knights, and a set of wide, stone steps, leading to an ornate doorframe and an open door.
The twenty knights of Falcon’s Watch formed a horseshoe around me, allowing my attendants and I to look up into the face of Marius Cyclone. The Stranger stood before the door, still wearing his parliamentary robe. He was tall and thin, with silvery streaks in his short black hair, and the tip of a blue tattoo creeping up his neck.
“Prince Oliver,” he said. “Would you like to come in?”
I raised an eyebrow and glanced at the armoured warriors all around me. “Who does this invite extend to?”
“Well, your small army would likely ruin my carpet,” replied Marius. “I think just those not wearing armour.” He stood to the side and beckoned through the open door.
Leofryc showed his displeasure at being one of those not allowed within, but appeared to realize that I was not going to change my mind. The commander of Falcon’s Watch took a moment to assess David and Jack, as if he wanted reassurance that they would be enough to protect me.
“Don’t worry,” offered Silver Jack. “Physically, he can protect himself. For all other things, he’s got me.”
“James Silver Born,” announced Leofryc, “I will trust you and the young duellist to guard the prince.” He spoke grandly, eliciting a respectful nod from David Falcon’s Fang.
“I’d tell you to fuck off again,” said Jack, “but I try not to swear in front of him.” He pointed at me. “Shall we go in, highness?”
Marius Cyclone waited patiently, until I decided that my safety was well taken care of, and strode up the steps to his house. The nameless woman followed, as did Jack and David, who hurried after me. Leofryc quickly turned his back and started shouting unnecessary orders at his men. As I passed the Stranger, and stepped from stone to carpet, I quickly assessed the tall Dark Brethren. Under his black robe was a concealed blade, a clear violation of the parliament rules. His arms were poised at his sides, as if ready to strike, and there was twitchy awareness in his eyes.
Within the large house, I saw multiple empty rooms, with bare stone steps connecting three floors of the building. Only the ground level was carpeted, and only one room, to the left of the entrance hall, contained furniture. Whatever this house was used for, it was clear that no one lived here.
“I’ve only just returned myself,” said Marius, leading the way into a rudimentary sitting-room. Leather chairs encircled a wooden table, all pointed towards an empty fireplace. “If I’d known we’d be meeting under such circumstances, I’d have tidied up.”
We sat down simultaneously, and I felt a layer of dust under my hands. “I didn’t know Trego,” I said, ushering David and Jack to sit down around the table. “But he was your older brother, and his loss is significant.”
Marius smiled, showing no obvious grief. “Was that an attempt at sympathy? Because, if so, it was terrible. And my brother has been dead to me for a long time.” He meant it, and I saw that he could glare even when smiling.
“That’s fairly cold-hearted,” said Silver Jack. “But I want to know who she is.” He nodded at the nameless woman, who was slowly moving to stand in front of the fireplace.
The Stranger stopped smiling and glanced at her. “She tends not to give her name. She’s an Outrider Knight and has complicated feelings about your prince. But she’s also the most loyal warrior I know.” They shared a look, before Marius turned back to me. “Prince Oliver, I truly need your help.”
I was confused. He and I had no common ground, other than just having watched his brother be killed by a Sea Wolf. He’d also heard the same words I’d heard, though he appeared less surprised with Trego’s wyrd and Rys’s talk of a Sunken God than the ministers of the parliament.
“You command legions,” I replied. “Surely they can help you.”
“My legions are elsewhere, on a small island, off Nibonay. It’s called Nowhere. It may not be known to you.”
“It’s known to me,” said David Falcon’s Fang. “I was held prisoner there by the Grim Wolf and the People of Ice. I saw your people ambush and massacre an entire crew of Sea Wolves. I was only released when you arrived, and my friend Duncan Greenfire killed himself.”
Marius narrowed his eyes at the young duellist. “I don’t remember you.”
“You and I never met,” replied David, looking at the tattooed man with restrained aggression.
“We’ve all heard of Nowhere,” I said, putting a hand on David’s shoulder.
“There’s a void storm there,” said Jack. “And try not to be a condescending prick.”
Marius laughed, but it contained no humour. “I humbly apologize,” he said. “Firstly, there is no longer a void storm there. Secondly, my legions are guarding something of great worth.”
Silver Jack pursed his lips, but didn’t escalate things any further.
“What do you want?” I demanded. “This place is now even more volatile than when we arrived, and I have no friendship with you.”
He leant back in his chair, and took a moment to assess me. It was a habit I was familiar with, one I’d learned from my father, and it made me think that Marius Cyclone was likely far cleverer than me.
“Well, the world is going to end, your highness,” he said, widening his eyes. “And I need your help to save as many Eastron as possi
ble.”
My wyrd tingled. It rarely did so, and I perceived it as an indication of danger. Not necessarily from the elder of the Dark Harbour, but from something he knew. I feared that if he told me, everything would change. If I heard the truth, I could never go back to a time before I’d heard it. I wanted to interrupt him, but I didn’t.
“Something ancient and chaotic woke up and destroyed the Severed Hand,” continued Marius. “That same force has corrupted my brothers into twisted worship, and plans to kill us all. Adeline Brand, Rys Coldfire and the Sea Wolves want to fight it… My allies and I want to flee from it. As does my cat, but that’s a separate concern. I do not want the Winterlords to be left behind. Especially as people I trust know of you, and believe you are important.”
8
Marius spoke, and silence intruded upon the dusty old house. Everyone looked at everyone else, then at the walls, then the floor, anything to delay having to speak. It was a terrifying story, but had been delivered with sincerity, and Marius Cyclone was not a man whose words should be taken lightly. The destruction of the Severed Hand, the talk of chaos spirits, the rotten wyrd of Trego Cyclone, and the words of the Wolf’s Bastard… I was not the wisest man, but I was thoughtful enough to consider the Stranger’s words.
The silence stretched, until I felt compelled to speak. As I was opening my mouth, Silver Jack quickly sprang to his feet, with both hands on the table and a distant look in his eyes. “Highness, something in the void,” he said.
David stood and grasped the hilt of his sword. The nameless woman backed away, and crouched defensively. The Stranger just raised his eyes, and looked at the empty air between us.
“Is it a threat?” I asked, calmly.
“Void legionnaires?” asked David, drawing his sword.
“No,” exclaimed Silver Jack, summoning a lens of shimmering wyrd across his eyes. “It’s a spirit. A black and silver eagle.”
The woman relaxed and returned to stand behind Marius. David grumbled and sheathed his sword. Jack just turned to me, dispelling the lens of wyrd and showing me a thin smile.
I stood and bowed my head. “It’s a messenger,” I said. “From First Port. From my mother.” I took off my parliamentary robes, and slowly placed them over the back of my chair. I then unbuckled my sword belt, carefully placing Zephyr on the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I should break the glass.”
“Take your time, your highness,” said the Stranger, with sympathetic eyes.
I turned away from my attendants and the two Dark Brethren, and walked back towards the empty entrance hall. My heart was beating fast, and a foggy haze had enveloped my head. I gulped, before straightening to my full height and reaching out for the glass. Within the Silver Dawn, the barrier between worlds was thin and well-travelled. I touched the glass and eased myself into the void, like sliding into a cool bath. The temperature dropped, and the crystal blue sky made me cover my eyes. As I squinted, and became used to the glare, I saw a pale-blue and silver vista. Beyond the glass, many old buildings had form, and some, like the Silver Parliament, were immense and glittering.
Then a huge eagle flared its wings, and my attention was focused. The spirit was mostly black, with a glossy crest of silver across its head and down its back. It was perched on the edge of a stone building, and its wingspan was wider than any of the houses. There was a faint nimbus of light, forming a globe around it, identifying the eagle as a spirit of nobility and lordship. It was one of the two pillars of rule. The Always King could only be recognized by word of such a spirit, with the second pillar being the Silver Parliament. The eagle spirit regarded me, looking beyond my form and assessing my wyrd.
“I am of the white flock,” said the spirit. “The first talons of the Dawn Claw. And I deliver to you, Oliver, son of Christophe, kingship of this land and all Eastron within. The Shining Sword has fallen. You are now the Always King.”
The words were deep and resonant, but the formality brought a tear to my eye. I wanted to see my mother, perhaps share a hug, and spend time, just the two of us, with no attendants or guards. I staggered backwards and crumbled to the floor, as my legs became numb. I pulled myself into a seated posture, slumped forwards and crying. Everything should have made sense now. I should have already gained the first pillar of rule, and been secure in my lordship. The one thing I’d waited for, from the time I understood who I was, had happened, but it was not complete. This was not how my story should be told. There was no glorious coronation, or joyful celebrants. It was as if the world didn’t understand how things should be.
“Do not cry!” chided the eagle. “You are a man of the Dawn Claw and should not show emotion. You must rule. The lesser Eastron of this kingdom need a beacon of all that is noble and lordly.” It flared its wings, sending small shockwaves towards me.
The spirit was powerful, and I had angered it, but in that moment I didn’t care. I grunted, wiped tears from my face, and stood to face the eagle. “I know who I am,” I shouted. “I am the Always King. That is how the Kingdom of the Four Claws works. I will be the Forever King.” I let my wyrd flare, showing more than I normally would, and barrelling the huge eagle backwards. It was a vulgar display of power, but served to remind the spirit that my wyrd was as powerful as any Eastron. “You’ve delivered your message. You may leave. I will call upon the Dawn Claw and the white flock when I have need of them.”
The huge bird beat its wings and regained some composure, perching again on the void reflection of the Stranger’s house. It bowed its head in submission, and its words formed quietly in my head. “You are greater than I, and we will never doubt you.”
“Go,” I said. “Tell the Dawn Claw I expect its loyalty.”
The spirit saluted me by raising its noble head, before springing quickly into the void sky, beating its huge wings, and soaring away. Such spirits were common at First Port, but rare everywhere else. They were arrogant and hard to please, but existed somewhere near the top of whatever spiritual hierarchy existed beyond the glass, and had guided the Winterlords since Sebastian Dawn Claw first arrived from across the sea.
*
I remained in the void for a short time, fighting anger and bitterness. All of my father’s hundreds of life lessons and wise old stories suddenly meant nothing. I could barely remember most of them, as if they’d died with him. He thought I’d be a terrible king, too weak to follow Christophe Dawn Claw as ruler of the Eastron from across the sea. But I knew he was wrong. Somewhere in my heart – the part of me he thought the weakest – I felt that I would be a greater king than even the Shining Sword.
Then the glass shimmered next to me, as Silver Jack stepped into the void. The short duellist glanced around, making me realize I’d been beyond the glass longer than I thought. “I don’t want to rush you,” said Jack. “But young David may attack the Stranger if you don’t return soon. He’s rather cross about what he saw on Nowhere.”
I was sitting crosslegged on the floor, looking up at him and rubbing my eyes. I could still feel tears on my face, but didn’t care that he saw. “How long have I been here?”
He averted his eyes, as if planning to lie and say he’d not seen me crying. “Long enough that news of your father’s death will have reached the parliament. If you have words for them, you need to deliver them. I can’t protect you here, neither can Leofryc and his knights. And you can shove Marius Cyclone up an owl’s arse. We don’t even know if this house is secret. Half a fucking void legion could be on their way here. And Falcon’s-fucking-Watch are not very subtle.” He was speaking quickly, and his eyes flicked left and right, as if his usual paranoia was getting the better of him.
I was far less manic, with my grief and bitterness slowing my thoughts to a crawl. The dangers of the parliament seemed like a petty addition to weightier concerns. “I’m the Always King,” I murmured. “A man died, and now I’m the Always King. There was no duel, no vote, no… whatever the Dark Brethren do.”
“They conspire,” replied Ja
ck. “I’m sure your new friend Marius could explain what that means.”
“Why did we come here?” I asked, looking off into the void. “I can’t remember.”
“You came here to fulfil your birthright,” he said. “You came here to become king. There was a fight on the First Stone before you got a chance to speak and now you’re going to try to speak again.”
I stood up and flexed my neck, groaning to relieve stiffness. My eyes were sore, and I was light headed, but the mantle of lordship was now mine to bear. “They won’t recognize me as king, will they?” I asked, picturing Alexis Wind Claw.
“I seriously doubt it,” he replied. “Assuming the Sea Wolf votes in your favour, we have two envoys versus three. Unless they just kill us on the way to the parliament.”
I frowned, as if everything I knew was being punched in the face. “I don’t understand how the Kingdom of the Four Claws can exist without a king. This is not the way things should be.” My head cleared a little and I smiled at Jack. I didn’t smile often, but gallows humour always tickled me. My lineage, my name, my wyrd, my martial strength… none of it seemed to matter. The corruption of the Silver Parliament was complete and I would never become king, and regain what was owed to me without a fight.
Then Jack raised his head and narrowed his eyes. “Fuck!” he snorted. “I don’t think the house was secret. There are void legionnaires in the realm of form.”
I took a deep breath, rubbed my eyes a final time, and reached out for the glass. Silver Jack was a step behind me, and we slipped from the spirit world, emerging back onto the bare stone of the Stranger’s empty house, facing the large, double-doors. To my right, standing up from the table and peering through the windows, were David, Marius and the nameless woman, with Jack just appearing at my left. The first sound I heard was an irregular clang of steel, as Leofryc Bright Hand and twenty men of Falcon’s Watch stood to attention outside the house.
