The Saints of the Sword

by John Marco

Biagio grinned. “I should find you work in the Roshann.”

  Prince Redburn placed his teacup on a nearby table. “You’ve come to bring me trouble, Biagio. We have never had a visit from the emperor. Not even Arkus, long as he lived, ever came to the Highlands. I am wondering why you are here.”

  “Let me try one last time to analyze you, Prince Redburn,” said Biagio. “You’re a very young man. I should say you’re not even thirty yet, am I right?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “Quite young. So ruling the Highlands is difficult for you. You know what I see when I look around this room? I see a toy collection. You’re still your father’s little boy, Redburn. And you have big shoes to fill, don’t you? All those sisters and brothers, looking up to you, wanting your guidance. So what do you do when the pressures of governing get to you? You come in here and make yourself a cup of tea.”

  Prince Redburn got up from the chair slowly and walked over to his prize tea machine. He put a hand to the warm metal.

  “You have problems, Redburn,” said Biagio. “With Talistan.”

  Redburn looked up. “What do you know about that?”

  “They’ve been harassing your borders. Maybe they’ve been sending spies across the river, hmm? It’s going to get worse.”

  “You came all this way to tell me that? Brilliant deduction, Lord Emperor.”

  “There’s more.” Biagio rose and went to the young man. “You’re a pawn, Prince Redburn. You’re being used in a gigantic game. Do you realize that?”

  When Redburn hesitated, Biagio said, “No, I can see you don’t. That’s why I’m here. To explain it to you.”

  He went back to the table, taking up both teacups and arranging them about a foot apart. “This,” he said, tapping the first cup, “is Talistan.” Then he touched the second cup. “And this is the Black City. You see all this area between them? What do you think that is?”

  “The Highlands?”

  “More precisely, your Highlands. How would you get to the Black City from Talistan? Other than by ship, I mean.”

  “There’s only one way. Through my territory.”

  “Well? Any bells going off in your head, Prince Redburn?”

  “Just one, but I don’t believe it. You’re saying that Talistan wants to invade the capital?”

  “Is that so hard to believe?”

  The prince seemed astonished. “That’s impossible.”

  “Perhaps you’ve lived too sheltered a life, after all,” said Biagio. “Let me explain the way things are.”

  So Biagio explained. For nearly an hour he discussed the intricacies of Naren politics. Biagio told the prince about Talistan, and how Tassis Gayle had many allies. And he told him about the Black City, and how it was fractured. Killing so many Naren lords had come back to haunt Biagio, and their ghosts were everywhere these days. And while Redburn admitted that he had heard about Biagio’s weaknesses, the emperor remained astonished at how little the prince actually knew. Obviously, the hills of the Highlands had isolated him. But when Biagio told him why Talistan was harassing him—because they needed a political excuse to invade—Redburn had no trouble grasping the concept.

  “It makes sense,” he concluded. “We’ve done nothing to Gayle to warrant his hatred. We lived in relative peace for years.”

  “Under Arkus,” Biagio corrected.

  “True. When you took the throne, things changed. We never really got along with Talistan, but we used to trade and travel freely between our countries. But no more.”

  “Things are bad throughout Nar,” Biagio admitted.

  Redburn got out of his chair. “Thank you for the history lesson, Lord Emperor, but you still haven’t yet told me why you’re here.”

  Biagio smiled. “Yes, I did leave that part out, didn’t I?” Casually he rose and went to the tea machine, filling his cup again and contemplatively sipping the hot drink. Redburn was staring at him, grinning wryly. Biagio decided he liked the young man. He wasn’t the savage many claimed, though there was a streak of wildness. At last, Biagio set down his cup and said, “Prince Redburn, I need your help. You already know the danger you’re in from Talistan. And you know that I am in peril myself. But what you don’t know is that the whole Empire is in danger. If Talistan attacks the capital, there will be war in Nar the likes of which you can’t imagine. Vosk will side with Talistan. Dahaar will side with me. Criisia will side with me, too, but others might join Gayle. There will be wide-scale war. World war, you might say. That’s why I’ve come to you. You and I must stop it from happening.”

  “Me?”

  “You’re the last link in a very long chain, Redburn. I’ve pulled a lot of strings to get this far, set a lot of wheels in motion. Everything is riding on this moment. Somehow, I have to convince you to join me.”

  Redburn was clearly confused. “You’re not making sense, Lord Emperor. Join you in what?”

  “In a strike against Talistan.”

  The words lingered in the air. Redburn absorbed them slowly, then said, “Are you serious? You want the Highlands to attack Talistan? But isn’t that exactly what Gayle wants?”

  “Indeed, but we shall have a surprise for him,” said Biagio. “It won’t be just your Highlanders attacking Talistan. You and your troops will be part of a carefully staged invasion.” He went back to the table and used Redburn’s teacups again. “This is Talistan, see? With the Highlands to the west, a strike would leave Gayle with nowhere to go …” He put a finger down on the table. “… except toward Lucel-Lor. I’ve made arrangements with some friends of mine. The Triin will be joining us. On the first day of summer, an army of Triin lion riders led by Richius Vantran will attack Aramoor, occupying Gayle’s forces on the eastern front. There will also be a sea bombardment from a Naren dreadnought, hammering the coast. Now, if your men—”

  “Whoa,” cried Redburn, throwing up his hands. “Triin lions? Richius Vantran? You must be out of your mind!”

  “I know it sounds unbelievable, but this is all part of a great coalition. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through to get this far, Redburn. I swear to you, I am not lying.”

  “Oh, but you’re the master of lies, Biagio. My father told me things about you. And one thing he taught me was that you’re not to be trusted. Even here in the hills we learned about the iron circle.”

  “There isn’t time for this, Redburn. I need your help. All of Nar needs you. Look out your window for once! Can’t you see what’s happening to the Empire? It’s a powder keg, and all Tassis Gayle has to do is light the fuse!” He fell back, tumbling miserably into his chair. “Don’t send me away empty-handed. I beg you.”

  “You ask the impossible of me. Maybe I don’t know much about Nar, but you don’t seem to know much about the Highlands. We’re not strong enough to fight Talistan.”

  “Haven’t you been listening? You won’t be alone. There are—”

  “I’ve heard you. It’s you who isn’t listening. Because even if we could fight Talistan, it would still be a slaughter. Hundreds of my people would be killed. Maybe more.” He looked down at Biagio with pity. “I had heard you were mad. Now I’m inclined to believe that. It’s madness to invade Talistan. I won’t give that order. Not ever.”

  “But the Empire …”

  “Your Empire, Biagio,” said Redburn. “Not mine.”

  In that moment, all the world seemed to fall upon Biagio’s shoulders. “You have no idea what I’ve been through to reach you, Redburn. But it all means nothing unless you join me. The Triin can’t win without your help, and I don’t have an army of my own.” He sighed, cursing himself. “What a fool I’ve been, thinking you could understand.”

  “Do not patronize me,” said Redburn. “I do understand.”

  “You don’t,” flared Biagio. “How could you? You’re a boy playing a prince. If you had any intelligence at all, you would see how important this is!”

  Redburn’s face purpled. “The Highlands are mine. We don’t dance to your tune
here, Biagio. And—”

  A sudden knock at the door interrupted him. He whirled to see a young woman in the threshold.

  “Redburn?” asked the woman. Her eyes darted to Biagio, where they lingered with surprise. “Is something wrong?”

  “Breena,” said Redburn, “did you just get back?”

  “Yes,” said the woman, but she didn’t address the prince directly as she spoke. Instead she kept her eyes on Biagio. “Mingo said you had a visitor.” She drifted toward Biagio, who stood at once to greet her.

  “Lady? You are the prince’s relation?”

  “This is Breena,” said Redburn. “My twin sister.”

  The resemblance was uncanny. Not only did the lady share her brother’s brilliant hair, but she had his skin tone as well, a marvelously delicate white, like the petal of a flower. Two green eyes shone from her face, and her lips curled in a careful smile.

  “Emperor Biagio?” she asked uncertainly.

  “That is I.” Biagio took her hand and kissed it. “I am pleased to meet you, Lady Breena.”

  Breena blushed, but only for a moment. Quickly she turned to her brother. “So? What is the matter?”

  “The matter,” said Biagio, “is your brother.” He scowled at Redburn. “I stand by what I said, Redburn. You are a fool. Talistan will not let you off so easily. If you do not attack them, then they will attack you. And they will butcher you, I promise.”

  “Enough,” said the prince. “Not in front of my sister.”

  “Redburn,” said Breena. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Your brother and I are discussing the fate of the world, Lady Breena,” said Biagio. “And I’m not leaving until I get the answer I need.”

  Breena looked puzzled. Redburn, who was now thoroughly incensed, went to the door and held it open.

  “Please go, Emperor,” he snapped. “Rest and take your ease, but speak no more of this. I warn you—I will not tolerate your talk of war.”

  Biagio went to the doorway. “I accept your hospitality,” he said. “But do not disappoint me, Redburn. Don’t make a waste of all my efforts.”

  “Go!”

  Forcing a smile, Biagio left the room. He waited until Redburn slammed the door behind him, then stormed down the stone corridor, letting out a string of curses.

  Biagio spent the rest of the day asleep in the chamber Mingo had provided. Redburn’s servant had lost his earlier insolence, and was perfectly polite as he showed the emperor to his room, a spacious chamber on the second floor of the castle with a bed trimmed with white ruffles and an excellent view of the bucolic grounds. But Biagio wasted no time with the view. His head ached from arguing with the prince and his backside burned with saddle sores. He was half asleep before Mingo shut the door.

  When he awoke again it was dark. A faint afterglow in the west told him it was just past dusk. Biagio roused himself, confused for a moment before realizing he was still in Elkhorn Castle. The last few weeks had passed in a blur, and he had seldom awakened in the same place twice. As he surveyed his surroundings, he realized he was hungry. Usually, back in the Black Palace, there was breakfast waiting by his bedside when he awoke. But Redburn’s servants had provided only a wash basin and an unlit lantern. He got out of bed, splashed water on his face, then checked himself in the mirror. A dreary apparition stared back. His skin was sallow and his eyes sunken. His silken mane of hair hung like dead grass.

  “Lord, look at me …”

  But he couldn’t look. Without the drug to keep him vital, age was creeping up on him. He turned away from the mirror, banishing the image, then searched for a comb. Surprisingly, he found one in the dresser beside his bed. Like a nervous bride he began working his long hair in careful strokes. For ten minutes he combed, until a soft rapping at the door stopped him.

  “Yes?” he answered. “Who is it?”

  The door crept open slowly, revealing a striking young woman. In her hand was a tray of food and steaming tea. Biagio rose from the bedside.

  “Lady Breena,” he said. He gave her his best smile. “This is a surprise.”

  Breena stepped quietly into the room. Biagio guessed she wanted no one to see her, and her furtiveness intrigued him.

  “You’ve been resting quite a while,” she said. “I thought you might be getting hungry. If I’m interrupting you—”

  “Not at all,” said Biagio. He took the tray and looked over its contents. “Ah, it’s splendid. You’ve read my mind, Lady Breena. I am famished.”

  “You look it,” she remarked.

  Biagio went to the bedside and set the tray on his lap. He didn’t ask who had baked the fresh bread, or why Breena had brought the food herself. Instead he merely tore off a great hunk. A crock of butter had been included. Biagio used a knife to smear it over the bread.

  “Thank you for thinking of me,” he said. He stole a glance at Breena and saw that she was smiling. She had a beautiful smile; faint and girlish.

  “You are Emperor,” she said simply. “We must show you hospitality. Redburn has ordered it.”

  Biagio’s mood soured. “How nice of him.”

  Breena drifted toward the bed. “You judge my brother too harshly, Lord Emperor. He cannot help you with your mission.”

  “My mission? What do you know of my mission?”

  “Redburn and I are closer than you might think. He keeps no secrets from me.”

  “No? It certainly seemed like he didn’t want you to hear about it.”

  “He tries to protect me,” said Breena, “but he always confesses eventually. I know why you’re here, Emperor Biagio. But you do not know the Highlands very well. And you know my brother least of all.”

  Biagio cut into the meat on his plate. It was rare, and the cut released blood. “Your brother strikes me as a great fool,” he said. “If he would consider my words instead of being so stubborn, he would see the truth of things. Your Highlands are in great danger, Lady Breena.” He put a chunk of meat into his mouth and watched Breena as he chewed. She was staring at him, hardly listening to his argument. Oddly, he didn’t mind her attention.

  “You’re very strange looking,” she said.

  “And you’re very bold.”

  Breena smiled. “You are not what I expected, that’s all.” She inspected him more closely. “Why are your eyes green? I’d heard they were blue, like all the Naren lords.”

  “Like sapphires?”

  “That’s what my father said.”

  Biagio laughed. “I seem to have been your father’s favorite subject. Well, let me tell you something—all is not what it seems. Forget the things you have heard about me. Really, you could do me no greater favor.”

  Breena drew even closer, practically sitting down beside him. Biagio looked at her curiously, surprised by her boldness.

  “I wish you wouldn’t stare at me so, my lady. At the moment, I’m not proud of my appearance.”

  “You have very long hair,” said Breena. She reached out and twirled a lock around her finger. “Soft.”

  Biagio froze. “Yes, well … thank you.”

  “Am I making you nervous?”

  “Nervous? My lady, I am the Emperor of Nar. I fear nothing, least of all women.”

  “That’s good, because there are a lot of women in the castle, my lord. They saw you arrive, and now they’re curious about you. I’m wondering what I should tell them.”

  “Tell them whatever you want. They will have their fill of me before I am done with your brother. I will not leave until I’ve convinced him to help me.”

  Suddenly Breena became serious again. “Lord Emperor, you will not convince him. My brother is a man of peace. He wants no quarrel with Talistan.”

  “He’s got one whether he wants it or not.”

  “But he’s been doing his best to avoid them, don’t you see? Talistan has been harassing him. They are trying to lure him into a fight.”

  “Yes. I wasted an hour explaining that to him.”

  “I know,”
said Breena. “Redburn understands now. But it doesn’t matter.” She fell to one knee before him, her eyes pleading. “He is afraid.”

  Afraid. Biagio knew the word too well. He had lied to Breena when he’d said he feared nothing. These days, his fears were enormous.

  “It will only get worse for your brother,” he said. “I know he wants peace with Talistan, but that is impossible. Gayle will keep pushing him, and unless he strikes, Talistan will strike first. Then we will lose our chance at surprise.”

  “But Gayle will be expecting us. You said yourself, he’s pushing us.”

  “Gayle will be expecting your brother, and perhaps another clan or two. He will not be expecting my dreadnought on the coast. And he certainly will not be expecting the Triin and their lions.” Biagio set aside his tray, then took Breena’s hand. “You must help me,” he said. “You must convince your brother to join my crusade.”

  Breena shook her head. “Lord Emperor, I can’t do that.”

  “You must! I cannot let Redburn spoil everything; not now, when I am so close.”

  There was a struggle in the woman; Biagio could see it clearly. He kept hold of her hand, willing her to see the truth. “You are his sister. He trusts you. He will listen.”

  “No,” said Breena. “Not about this, he won’t.” She pulled her hand back regretfully. “I’m sorry, my lord. I can’t help you.”

  Biagio released her. “Very well. Go, then.”

  Frowning, Breena went to the door and opened it. But before stepping out, she gave Biagio one last look. “Will I see you again before you leave?”

  “Leave? My lady, you will be seeing plenty of me. I have until the first day of summer to change your brother’s mind. Until I do that, I’m not going anywhere.”

  THIRTY

  Jahl Rob crested a hill and caught a glimpse of the village far below. Nestled between two mountains and circled by a field of rugged farmland, it seemed like an oasis.

  “Alazrian,” he called, “there it is.”

  Alazrian hurried up the hill, the reins of his horse in one hand, the map Falger had drawn crumpled in the other. When he saw the village, he grinned. It had been three days since the last village, and they were both exhausted from riding. Their horses, too, were weary, and required ever more frequent rest periods.