Broken World Book Four - The Staff of Law

by Southwell, T C

  Talsy frowned in confusion. “I’m not -”

  “Shut up,” Kieran said. “You’ll do as he says, or be parted from me.”

  Talsy opened her mouth to deliver a blistering retort, but Mita leant closer and whispered, “Kieran has claimed you as his wife, so we won’t be separated.”

  Talsy nodded and glared at the King, who gazed down at her from his horse. The Aggapae called their mounts, and the soldiers boosted Kieran onto the piebald’s back, placing a halter on the animal so they could lead it. Brin soothed the horse with soft whispers to Task, who whickered to the piebald, preventing him from fighting the unfamiliar restraint. The King and his companions looked amazed when the Aggapae mounted without saddles or bridles. The big bay was the only one wearing a saddle, to carry the pieces of staff. The chosen fell in behind Kieran’s captors as they set off back the way they had come.

  Chapter Two

  King Ronos led his mounted entourage through a thick belt of elm trees at a canter, entering a sweeping green valley surrounded by tracts of coniferous woodland on one side and oak forest on the other. A massive army populated a veritable city of pale brown tents that dotted the grass on the far side. Cavalrymen performed complicated manoeuvres and dashing displays of precision riding. They wheeled and charged as single body, clashing blunted lances on ranks of shield-bearing foot soldiers. All activity ceased at the King’s appearance, and the men saluted their sovereign with raised weapons and a great shout. Ronos waved, sending them back to their practice as he headed for a regal pavilion set up on one side of the vale. The King dismounted amid a plethora of servants, one of whom led his stallion away, and the nobles joined him in the bright tent. The soldiers hustled Kieran in and left him to stand in the middle of it. Talsy slid off her mare and went in after them, while the Aggapae stayed outside with the horses.

  Ronos turned at her entry. “Ah, my dear Princess. I regret we have no women here to tend you. This is an army exercise camp, you see.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. “I’m used to looking after myself.”

  “I bet you are.”

  “There’s no need for Kieran to be bound. He’s not going to try to escape amongst so many soldiers.”

  The King considered this, eyeing the scowling Prince. “Perhaps not.” He gestured, and a noble stepped up to Kieran, drawing a dagger.

  As he sliced the thongs that bound the Prince’s hands, he muttered, “I’d like to sink this into your black heart, you snake.”

  “That will do, Orland.” Ronos looked at Kieran. “You remember my son, Prince Orland?”

  “We’ve never met.”

  “Liar,” Orland said. “You’ll pay for what you did to my sister.”

  Kieran rubbed his wrists. “It seems my brother really knew how to make enemies.”

  Ronos snorted and turned to take a cup of wine from a serving tray as the servant who bore it passed amongst the nobles, most of whom helped themselves to a cup. Talsy waved the man away, and Kieran was not offered any. The King indicated that Talsy should sit on one of the padded chairs, and she did, aching with fatigue. Ronos settled on the chair beside her and turned his attention to her. Kieran was the only noble left standing when all the others had found chairs.

  “So, you are Princess...?”

  “Talsy.”

  “Allow me to introduce my entourage.” He reeled off a list of counts, dukes and lords, ending with Prince Orland.

  Talsy nodded to each, impatient to get the formalities over with, then asked, “What would it take to convince you that Kieran is not Tyrander, King Ronos?”

  He sighed. “Perhaps a missive from his lady mother, the Queen. But she is probably dead by his hand, as his father is.”

  “She’s not, but it would be difficult to get a letter from her, since she’s far away, on the other side of the mountains.”

  “Well, then.” The King shrugged. “You’ll just have to take my word for it. He may have fooled you with his new identity, but I met him six years ago when he wooed and won my daughter.”

  Talsy shook her head. “I’ve met them both, and seen them together. I admit they were as alike as two peas in a pod, but for Tyrander’s white streak and beard. Yet if I looked closely, I could see they were very different inside. Complete opposites, in fact. Tyrander was a cruel drunkard, but Kieran was raised by a retired soldier from his father’s army, and did not know he was a prince until we came here from another continent. You see, when the Queen bore identical twins, the King gave Kieran away rather than have them feuding for the throne.”

  Ronos sipped his wine. “It’s a good story, Princess Talsy, and so plausible. But Tyrander never had a twin. I’m sure you’re telling me exactly what he’s told you, and I admire your loyalty, misplaced though it is.”

  Talsy groaned in frustration and raised a hand to her aching head, sickness twisting her stomach again.

  The King turned to her, putting aside his wine. “My dear, you should go and lie down, you’re clearly exhausted. Orland will take you to a private tent, and I’ll have some food sent to you there.”

  Talsy allowed Orland to coax her from her chair, too tired to argue any further. Ronos appeared to be a kind man, and was not about to execute Kieran out of hand, so there would be time to convince him when she felt better. With this in mind, she cast Kieran a sympathetic glance as she was led past him, and he responded with a sad but reassuring smile. Orland took her to a comfortable tent, complete with a soft bed onto which she sank with a sigh. He left her to rest, and later a servant brought her a good game stew, which she picked at before letting sleep carry her off in warm dark arms.

  The next morning, they left the camp with Kieran bound to a bay horse, led by a soldier. She rode next to Orland, a handsome, if rather nondescript young man with his father’s eyes and black hair, although lacking his great size. The army saluted their King as the party rode from the valley, escorted by a platoon of mounted troops. The Aggapae fell in behind, unhindered by Ronos’ men. They headed west, parallel to the distant mountains but away from the pursuing Torrak Jahar.

  By late afternoon, they had traversed many leagues and crossed two rivers, entering a vast area of cultivated land. The city that sheltered within its stone walls, like so many others, was larger than Talsy had expected. This one differed in as much as the castle did not hide at its centre, but stood close to the wall, guarding the town. Another difference that surprised Talsy was the lack of a tar web. Unlike every other city she had encountered on this continent, Ronos’ home was not a tar town, and its wall was an ancient rampart built of dressed stone. The city was situated at the base of a mighty cliff, which protected its back from enemies as well as the winter storms’ wild winds. The cliff looked odd, as though the land had risen up in a great wave behind the city, poised to engulf it, but never fallen.

  Within the tall brown walls, whitewashed houses with black beams lined cobbled streets, and a bustling populace filled them. Talsy glimpsed many little marketplaces in side streets, where vendors sold all manner of wares from brightly painted carts under gay awnings. Housewives hurried past with baskets of shopping, urchins played on the pavements and street sweepers leant on their brooms. Many of the pretty houses had window boxes of bright flowers that sweetened the air with their fragrance, and bright washing dried on lines strung across the roads. The cleanliness, industry and friendliness of Ronos’ city amazed Talsy. People cheered the King as he rode past, which also surprised her, for not many kings were well loved by their people.

  At the castle, a towering fortress of dressed grey stone with lofty battlements overlooking the sweeping vale that led to it, servants came out to take the King’s cloak, see to his horse and brush dust from his clothes. One guided Talsy to a sumptuous suite where olive curtains framed tall, diamond-paned windows that overlooked a pretty garden. Landscapes and tapestries decorated the pale blue walls and several finely woven rugs softened the polished black slate floors. A canopied four-poster bed with a quilted crimson
spread dominated the bedroom, whose pale yellow walls were home to several portraits of portly men. A variety of dainty ornaments stood on delicate carved tables, and a yellow-tinged mirror hung above the dressing table with its frilly topped stool.

  A bevy of serving women arrived to bathe and pamper her with aromatic oils before dressing her in a lacy fawn gown festooned with frills, bows and flowers. She plucked at the finery in disgust, but, apart from a few protestations that were surprised out of her, she bore it with good grace. The girls washed and brushed her hair until it regained a little of its former lustre, dressed it in elaborate plaits and twists and arranged it about her face. As the women put the finishing touches to their work, a slender woman in a plain black dress came in. The serving women curtsied and left, and Talsy turned to face the newcomer. She knew who the woman was from the pain in her hazel eyes and her air of stiff embarrassment.

  “Princess Merina, I presume?”

  The Princess nodded and sat on a stool, her hands clasped. “I had to meet you. Father says you’re Tyrander’s new bride. I wanted to assure you that you’re safe now.”

  Talsy snorted. “Well, I’m not sure what from, but thanks all the same. Unfortunately, your father has made a mistake. The man he captured isn’t Tyrander.”

  “He told me what you said. Tyrander hasn’t mistreated you, then?”

  “Kieran has not, no. Tyrander tortured me and tried to kill me.”

  Merina blinked several times. “I don’t know how he managed to fool you so well. Perhaps with magic, but I glimpsed the man they brought in, and it is Tyrander, I swear it.”

  “I’m really getting tired of this argument,” Talsy said. “Kieran is Tyrander’s identical twin. Why don’t you spend some time with him and get to know him, then you’ll see that I’m right.”

  Merina shuddered. “I know him well enough to know that he’s a master of duplicity. He can act very well; he fooled me for a long time.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.” Merina rose. “I’ll see you at supper. The servants will guide you.”

  “What about Kieran?” Talsy called after her as the Princess headed for the door.

  “He’s in the dungeon, where he belongs.”

  Merina slipped out of the door and closed it behind her. Talsy sighed. Clearly Merina had been through an ordeal, it showed in her haunted eyes and nervously twisting hands. Having met Tyrander, this did not surprise Talsy. What fate would Merina condemn Kieran to for his brother’s crimes, and when was Chanter going to get them out of this mess? He might have saved them from the Torrak Jahar, but the Riders had not even caught up and already the Prince was in danger.

  Supper was fraught with peril for Talsy, since she knew none of the etiquette required, and watched the others as they dined, following their example. She was saved from drinking out of the finger bowl when Orland dunked his fingers in it moments before she reached for it. Somehow she got through the meal, though she could eat little of the delicious food and retired early to bed, weak with fatigue. Even her worry for Kieran could not keep her from the dark abyss of sleep, and she sank into it gladly.

  Kieran paced his cell, cursing Tyrander. Even after his death, his deeds caused trouble for his twin. He sat on the hard bed and contemplated his predicament. At least the cell was clean, and he had eaten a good meal of roasted meat and braised vegetables in spicy sauce, so princes evidently received better treatment than most when their enemies captured them. He hoped it was not meant to be his last.

  All he could count on now was Chanter’s promise to protect him. It did occur to him to call the Starsword and cut his way out of the cell, but then he would have to fight his way out of the city and deal with the Torrak Jahar, a prospect he did not relish. The sword would have to be counted on only as a last resort, and, if he did end up on the gallows, he hoped the Mujar would keep his vow. He glanced up in surprise as the cell door creaked open.

  A slim woman dressed in black came in, her eyes wide with trepidation. She possessed a classical beauty, her heart-shaped face and delicate features framed by bright chestnut hair. Kieran remained seated, not wishing to loom over her, lowered his eyes and bowed his head.

  She stopped just inside the open door, a guard within call, and studied him. “So, it is you.”

  Kieran smiled and shook his head. “Actually, it’s not. I’m not Tyrander.”

  “You think your charade will deceive me? Do you think I wouldn’t recognise my own husband?”

  “Evidently you don’t, for I’m not him. You must be Princess Merina. I’m sorry for whatever my brother did to you, though it was none of my fault. He’s dead now, as he richly deserved, but not before he caused a great deal of trouble for my companions and me.”

  “I have to decide your punishment.”

  He looked up. “That must be difficult for one who is obviously as soft-hearted as you.”

  “How well you know me. I remember the insults that stemmed from what you called my ‘lack of spine’.”

  Kieran sighed. “I see that I’ve blundered. I don’t know you, Princess, merely looking at you tells me that you’re a gentle woman.”

  “How good you are at words that drip with honey, My Prince. I remember them well from our courting days.”

  He jumped up, making her step back and bump into the wall. He swung away to stare out of the barred window. “Anything I say you’ll twist to convince yourself that I am who you think I am. Is there no way I can prove to you that I’m not?”

  “Look at me.”

  Kieran faced her. “I’m his identical twin, Princess; even our mother couldn’t tell us apart, which is why the King gave me away. Looking at me won’t help.”

  “You’ve dyed your hair. Tomorrow the guards will wash out the dye, and there will be my proof.”

  “And when that doesn’t work you’ll have me grow a beard, I suppose, so you can say there, you have a beard, you’re Tyrander.”

  Merina frowned. “If it won’t wash out, it must certainly grow out, unless you are a magician now.”

  “Well, at least that buys me some time. Perhaps Tyrander had some scars that I don’t?”

  She lowered her gaze. “I wouldn’t know, would I?”

  “Surely you would? You were his wife.”

  “I never saw you unclothed, and well you know it.”

  “Not me, no...” He raised his brows. “You never saw Tyrander?”

  “How dare you taunt me like this?”

  “I’m not...” Kieran stepped towards her, but stopped at a warning flash of fear in her eyes. He raised his hands. “I’m sorry, Princess. Under the circumstances you must think me callous, but I’m not privy to the things my brother did to you, forgive me.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes as she gazed up at him. “You are a consummate liar, as I well know. It was lies that wooed me, lies that made me love you, and now I hate you for it.”

  Merina spun and fled into the corridor.

  “Wait!” Kieran started after her, but stopped when a guard blocked the doorway, a spear aimed at his belly. He retreated, and the door slammed in his face, the key grating in the lock. He banged his fist against the wall. “Damn!”

  Talsy woke with bile crawling up her throat and rolled over to vomit into a basin beside her bed. The retching went on long after her stomach was empty, leaving her gasping and weak, cold sweat on her brow. A maid came in and removed the basin, then returned with a clean one and a damp cloth to cool her brow. Talsy enjoyed the pampering, almost glad that Chanter had delivered them into Ronos’ hands, for now she was far too ill to travel. She was a little better by the time Merina came to visit her, and the maid left at a glance from the Princess.

  Merina sat on the bed. “How do you feel?”

  “Not too good.”

  The Princess smiled. “It will pass. It’s only morning sickness. Most women get it.”

  Talsy forced a wan smile. “That’s nice to know.”

 
“You do seem a little sicker than most, though. Mine was not nearly as bad, thank goodness.”

  “You’ve had a child?”

  Merina nodded. “I am married.”

  “Tyrander’s child. Of course.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  Talsy shook her head. “Why should it?”

  “Well, they would be half siblings, and, since he’s still married to me, yours will be illegitimate.”

  Talsy snorted, then remembered that Merina thought she carried Kieran’s child. “They’ll be cousins. Although, since Tyrander was Kieran’s twin, they would almost be half-brothers.”

  A look of deep sadness crossed Merina’s face. “You really believe his lies, don’t you?”

  “They’re not lies.”

  Merina patted her hand. “Let’s not talk about him. I don’t wish to upset you.”

  “You’re not upsetting me. It’s just so silly.”

  “I know you must think so, but be glad we caught him before he did to you what he did to me.”

  A knock came from the door, and a maid poked her head in. “Excuse me, Highness, Prince Orland asks if Princess Talsy can meet the King.”

  Merina glanced at Talsy, who shook her head. “I’m not feeling that well.”

  The Princess turned to the maid. “Tell Orland that Princess Talsy is unwell at the moment.”

  The maid curtsied and left, but returned a minute later. “The Prince asks if he may enter and speak to Princess Talsy. The matter is urgent.”

  Merina shot Talsy a curious look and helped her to arrange the bedclothes and frilly nightgown before nodding to the maid.

  Orland entered, looking embarrassed and shy, his eyes clinging to the toes of his boots. “I’m sorry to worry you, Talsy. This morning a black army came to the city gates and demanded entry. Naturally we denied them, whereupon they demanded that we hand over your entire party, Tyrander, and a stone they claim you have.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “That we would discuss it.”