Knightfall: Book Four of the Nightlord series

by Garon Whited

  “So, rather than a spell to paralyze a hand, it’s a spell to cut it off?”

  “Pretty much, except inside a head.”

  “And he’s taught Thomen these spells?”

  “Malana thinks he’s learned some of them and is learning more. The adept isn’t a member of the Guild, but Thomen keeps him in style.”

  “Then why haven’t the queen’s guards done something about it?”

  “They’re guards, Sire. They don’t deal with this sort of thing. It’d be different if Thomen was wrapping a spell around her head and squeezing. By the time they come out of the bedroom in the morning, there’s nothing to point at or yell about. He couldn’t smack her ass in the throne room and get away with it, but in the bedroom he can do as he likes. It’s a problem between security and privacy, Sire.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not the way I wanted to set it up.”

  “I’m pretty sure you didn’t have much say in it,” he countered, simply.

  “I can’t argue with that. What do we do about it?”

  “I dunno. Malana thinks it’s not a very good spell, though. It seems to wear off, whatever it is, if he doesn’t keep doing it. It’s like it injures her thinking and she slowly gets better. Got a good way to keep him away from the Queen for a week?”

  “Not aside from killing him.”

  “Oh.” Kammen looked thoughtful.

  “Hey, what does Malena think?”

  “Whatever Malana does.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup, Sire. They’re the same person. The two bodies are nice, though—as you ought to know.” Kammen waggled his eyebrows and leered.

  “There’s a story there involving the Demon King. Do I want to know it?”

  “Maybe not, but the two of ’em wouldn’t mind demonstrating.”

  “Now I’m disturbed,” I admitted. It would go a long way toward understanding the look on her face—their face? —when she bumped into me, though. Did the Demon King like them? Or did they learn to like him? Or was he simply capable of being charming, sexy, and attractive when he felt so inclined?

  No, I probably don’t want to know.

  “How well are you set up in the palace?” I asked.

  “No trouble,” he said, shrugging. “I’m not in the Queen’s Guard and I’m not in Mochara or Karvalen. You’re not here, so I got a lot of nothing to do.”

  “Is anyone, you know, suspicious?”

  “Yep.”

  “And?”

  “Don’t care.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

  “I’m a guy who’s supposed to behead people who attack you. If I’m here, I’m not doing my job. They’re okay with that. I’m not a commander or anything, so I don’t got troops to order around. I’m one guy. That’s all. If they wanna watch me wenching, they can.” He shrugged. “I’m a knight. Lots of people like me. And I’m not doing nothing. Probably frustrates anybody thinking I’m a spy.”

  “Then how are we getting away with this call?”

  “I’m also a wizard and I ain’t stupid, Sire. I spent nine years doing a lot of things all quiet-like.”

  “Fair point. Thank you, Kammen. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Yeah, sort of. Remember the minstrel girl, Tyma?”

  “Vividly.”

  “She’s looking for you and she’s got a big stick.”

  “Does it have anything written on it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell her I’ll be happy to let her hit me with it whenever we can get together.”

  “Uh? Okay, I guess. If you say so.”

  “Anything else?”

  “If we get the Queen back to her old self, can you give her more guards? I’d like the Mals to have more time. They might like it, too.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I agreed.

  Well. That was certainly a lot of food for thought. I wasn’t sure I was interested in the meal, though. Did I want to find out more? Torvil was standing right there. Or Firebrand—I doubted Firebrand was ever out of arm’s reach during the reign of the Demon King. I could just ask.

  I don’t think I will. At least, not today.

  We had a council meeting about the defense of Mochara. Dantos suggested calling for the Lord Mayor of Mochara, which diverted me for a minute.

  “Why a mayor?” I asked. Technically, the title was primicivus—pronounced pry-MIS-iv-us—meaning first among the people of the city. It seemed oddly egalitarian for a feudal lord.

  “I do not know,” Dantos admitted. “I was not part of the decision. I have heard your daughter had much to say about the rule of Mochara, and this deterred the Demon King from interfering with it.”

  “I heard it also made Kamshasa interested in taking it,” Nothar added, “and interested Iranesh, Prydon, and Telasco. To my knowledge, only Kamshasa actually made an attempt, but their name may have been used to shift blame from another nation.”

  “Framed,” I supplied. “Does anyone remember, know, or have any other information about it?”

  “After mom—excuse me,” Tianna said. “After Amber became a being of fire, it seemed appropriate to be less involved in the day-to-day rule of the city. While she still advises and guides the people of Mochara in the name of the Mother of Flame, it has been made apparent a priest should not also rule. Amber called for those with wealth or station within Mochara to select from among their number seven members. These form the Council of Mochara. They take turns being the head of the Council every year.”

  “That’s weird,” I observed. “Not necessarily bad, but certainly unusual.” This was met with strong mutters of agreement. They like their rulers definite around here.

  “So,” I continued, “let’s have a mirror brought in here. Do they have a magic mirror in the council chambers?”

  It’s amazing how an impending invasion can motivate people. I was all set to yell at a council of idiots and tell them to get off their fat, lazy, politician butts. Turns out they do not like being invaded. They took the earlier warnings to heart and were taking action even before I visited Flim.

  Flim & Sons was busy supervising the building of a giant crossbow cradle, one to raise and lower their contraption just inside the city wall—the disappearing mount I’d told them about! Counterweights and levers were the order of the day. Zaren worked with men on the wall, mounting a few smaller, tripod-sized versions. Medium-sized catapults were still being constructed inside the city wall; the wall sits at the top of a cliff edge, so the inside of the wall is a lot shorter than the outside. The harbor and surrounding seas were becoming a very dangerous place for hostile people.

  The city guard mobilized and the town militia prepared. Containers of all sorts were filled with water or sand for firefighting. Weapons sharpened, arrows made, armor refurbished… they even had the fishing fleet either docked or pulled up on the harbor’s beach for war preparations. They were small boats, compared to the vessels approaching, but there were a lot of them. A dozen or more might be able to close with a single enemy vessel and ram, possibly attempt to board, or whatever it is smaller ships do to larger ships. Naval engagements aren’t my area.

  The gap in the artificial reef—the passage through the harbor wall—was closed off by stringing a bunch of chain and cable between the obelisks that marked the entrance. If nothing else, it was one more obstacle to simply sailing up to the docks and dumping troops.

  The ruling council and the mayor were only too happy to know we would help them. I got an ugly look from Seldar, but I don’t think anyone else noticed it.

  “For the moment,” Seldar said, “we believe the naval force is insufficient to take Mochara. Had the army made it through the mountains, that would be another matter. Fortunately, our King has already turned that force back.”

  “And we are duly grateful,” replied the mayor, through the mirror. I didn’t take to him at all. He smiled even during the news of a sea assault. Either he was looking forward to a battle or h
e didn’t think it was a problem. I suppose he could have a smile magically grafted onto his face, as befits a politician.

  “Our latest observations of the fleet show it has slowed,” Seldar reported. “If they continue to advance at this rate, they should reach Mochara slightly before sunrise.”

  “They attack at dawn, then.”

  “It would seem so.”

  “We will continue to work through the night to strengthen our defenses. When should we expect reinforcements?”

  I opened my mouth, but Seldar beat me to the answer.

  “We are considering that very matter,” he said. “Some organizational details remain. All the aid we can send will arrive in good time, I assure you.”

  “Very good. And thank you.”

  Seldar shut down the mirror and braced himself.

  “Tianna?” I asked.

  “Yes, Grandfather?”

  “Would you like to go help your mother defend Mochara?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll see you in my gate room. Torvil?”

  “Sire.”

  “Do you know of anyone who might volunteer to do the same?”

  “I can think of a few, yes, Sire.”

  “Have them in my gate room as well. Wait for me there. Seldar, please stay. Everyone else, give us the room.”

  They got up and got out. Seldar and I looked at each other while the door ground shut behind them.

  “Okay, go ahead,” I told him.

  “Your Majesty?”

  “You’ve already argued with me about defending Mochara personally. I intend to go there, surrounded by my own people, with not just one, but two Priestesses of the Flame. If you still have an objection, I’d love to hear it.”

  He stood up and paced slowly around the table, hands clasped behind his back, head down, thinking. I let him. If Seldar was thinking hard, it was important. I know what I want to do—vent some of my frustration and anger on a bunch of invaders, which strikes me as an appropriate outlet for such things—but I also respect his opinions.

  “Sire,” he said, finally, “do you recall what you said about knights?”

  “Probably. Did you have something specific in mind?”

  “I refer to some of the things about knights and how you relate to them. How you hoped to be the… the worst of us. You would have to do terrible things as a king—things no knight should ever do—and you would bear the burden of the responsibility for them. But when you said you hoped to be the worst of us, I took it to mean you hoped to hold us—we would hold ourselves—to a higher standard. You would do the best you could, but, as we lack the troubles and responsibilities of a king, we should do better.”

  “Yes, I seem to recall. And you’re right. A king may have to do things in his public capacity as a king that, in his personal and private capacity, he finds morally or ethically objectionable. It seems like an excuse the Demon King would use for his behavior, but the key difference, I feel, is the question of necessity. If the king is facing a choice, he should not simply take the more objectionable road because it’s easy; he should fight to take the right road, especially when it isn’t easy. I was trying to acknowledge that sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones, and the king is the one who has to make the choice. Knights should always encourage the king to do the right thing, to be better than he might otherwise be, even when they don’t know he can’t.”

  “As you say, Sire. Now I must tell you I believe you are making a bad choice.”

  “In what way?”

  “You want to go to Mochara to personally oversee its defense.”

  “Well, yes. Even during the day, I’m a pretty dangerous guy.”

  “Yes, but you are only one person. A person with authority who will disrupt the defense of the city by creating confusion, destroying coordination, and engendering doubt. People will not know who to turn to, nor who to take orders from. Your unfamiliarity with Mochara and its defenders will cause more harm than good.

  “I recognize, Sire, I have no authority to command your movements. This very lack was one of the reasons I felt I could not continue to serve when you were the Demon King. But I tell you now: going to Mochara is foolish. I believe it with all my heart. It is my duty to tell you your decision is wrong. More, it is my duty to make you listen.”

  He unbuckled his belt and baldric. He laid his sword on the table.

  My first impulse was to snatch it up and tell him to go to hell. I’m not as emotionally stable as I would like to be, and I can’t blame it all on Johann. A lot of it, yes, but I was also looking forward to the catharsis of letting go completely and killing everyone I could reach. Sometimes, losing control is a relief. This was an outright battle and I was hoping to rip things apart with a clear conscience.

  I’ve been getting better at sitting on my anger, though—lots of practice. Plus, Seldar is almost like a son to me. I kept my calm and nodded.

  “Well,” I said, softly, “if you’re willing to resign over it, I guess I need to take you seriously. No, that sounds wrong. I always take you seriously, Seldar. I think you could have told me ‘I mean it,’ and I would have listened.”

  “Would you?”

  “Who do you think I am? The Demon King?” I made a rude noise and waved a hand to dismiss the idea. “Although I admit the prospect of beating someone’s head in has been more tempting of late, that’s because I’m still angry regarding a completely different matter.”

  “Then, have I succeeded in my attempt to dissuade you, Sire?”

  “Yes. Yes, you have, damn you,” I sighed. “I’ll stay here. But there’s something I want from you in return.”

  “Anything, Sire.”

  “First of all, you hit me across the face, once, to make your point. You threatened to resign to make your point. Between the two, you’ve made a larger, more general point. You have good advice and you’re serious about making me listen to it. I get it. You shouldn’t have to go to these lengths again. I promise to try to listen. If you think I’m not listening, say so. It will remind me I should. Okay?”

  “I will. And I apologize, Sire, for my inappropriate behavior.”

  “You did what you had to do, which means it wasn’t inappropriate. Inconvenient, maybe annoying, certainly frustrating and even enraging, but not inappropriate.” I sighed, then chuckled. “You have a history of doing the right thing,” I pointed out, “which is one of the finest qualities in a knight. Now, the second thing… find a use for me.”

  “Sire?”

  “I’ll stay in the mountain, yes, since you damn well insist the King cower in a hole, avoiding personal peril. What I will not do is sit idly by while everyone else goes off to war. I will help. Find things we need for the defense of Mochara and tell me what I can do about them.”

  “Happily, Sire!”

  “Any objection to sending Tianna and the troops to Mochara?”

  “As long as we have sufficient of the Orders of Crown and Shadow at hand, no objections.”

  “Hold it. Order of the Crown?”

  “Bodyguards, drawn from the Order of Shadow.”

  I sighed. Nobody ever tells me anything. People keep rearranging the hierarchy while I’m not looking. Why can’t we just have a fixed and unchanging structure? It would really be convenient for the immortal guy if things didn’t change every decade!

  “Wait, isn’t that the duty of the Order of Shadow anyway?”

  “Technically, we are your personal guard—at least, the secular Order is. The Knights of Shadow also consider themselves members your personal guard, but their concerns are for you in your person as a Lord of Night, rather than as King.”

  “But both Orders of Shadow and the Order of the Crown are supposed to protect me?”

  “In a sense. We are the knights under the personal command of the King, an elite force. The Order of the Crown are a much smaller force whose sole duty is to protect your person.”

  “Okay. So how do the knights from the Temple of Shado
w fit in with all this?”

  “It is a matter for you to decide,” he informed me. “In the absence of a formal decree on your part, I have acted—with the full accord of Torvil, Kammen, Dantos, and Beltar—as though their holy order is also a part of the royal Order of Shadow.”

  “All right. I’ll have to talk to Beltar and see what the temple knights are like, I guess.”

  “Thank you, O Unreasonable One.”

  “You’re in a better mood, I see.”

  “As long as you have sufficient guardians here, yes.”

  “Talk to Torvil and Beltar about it. Now get moving; there’s a battle in the morning.”

  The way it was explained to me, the defense of a city falls into three stages. First, keep the invaders from reaching it in the first place. Second, if they get to the walls, keep them from getting in. Third, if they get in, kill them all or drive them out.

  Each stage has its own advantages and difficulties.

  The trouble with the first one was our navy. Mochara doesn’t really have one. Oh, the fishing fleet can be used as a sort of navy, but it lacks large vessels with high decks. They only make short trips and they don’t carry many men. A warship will plow right through them and inflict massive casualties, if they even bother to get that close. A warship full of archers is a bad thing for a fishing boat.

  Since I never did manage to walk on water, stopping them wasn’t really an option.

  The second one, keeping the invaders out, seemed feasible. If their army had made it through the mountains it might be different. Armies typically target city gates as the weak point; if you take the gates, everyone can walk in behind you. Going over the walls is a valid tactic, but you have to capture and hold a large section of wall, and then invaders have to climb ropes or ladders—it’s much less convenient. And Mochara has several gates, which means defending them would divide manpower and other resources.

  Defending against a naval assault? That could be doable. A navy, realistically, can only come at one side of the city and they have problems of their own in getting from ship to shore to gate. I didn’t know the defense plans, but I didn’t need to—Seldar nailed me down in Karvalen. I was cautiously optimistic on their behalf.