The Dying Flame

by R L Sanderson

  It couldn’t be. She’d done everything right, her aim was in sight now, how could it be taken from her like this? And Kendrid–

  She gasped. Even now he was reaching for the goblet, lifting it from the table, turning again for a moment to glance at her curiously as the cup touched his lips.

  She should warn him. She should stop him. But she couldn’t; it was too late.

  He had drunk the poison.

  Aderon was speaking, making a toast that went on for too long, listing the entire history of cooperation and friendship of their people, and everyone was nodding and smiling. And then there was a sudden commotion, raised voices, panic, movement. It was the poison, it must be, but Orla realised she couldn’t see. The world had receded to a shimmering darkness and heat; she could barely breath.

  ‘Orla,’ she heard. She was lying on the ground and Roland knelt by her side. And then came an inhuman shriek, a hideous howl, and a heavy crash of furniture falling.

  There was yelling, a scuffle, ‘Treachery, treachery,’ and then she heard no more.

  Chapter forty-five

  ‘You must wake now, Orla.’ The voice in her ear was urgent and commanding. She groaned and tried to turn away, eyes still closed.

  ‘Orla, the change has come. It is time to move.’

  Where was she? What had happened? She remembered… she remembered darkness and noise, and darkness and silence. She wasn’t sure what had happened. She guessed that the poison had done its work, though not on the man who she had meant to die. She guessed she’d been found out, though if she had, she didn’t understand why she was not yet dead. Probably she would be soon.

  ‘Awake now, Orla.’ It was Roland, of course. It was always Roland, bringing her back from the darkness.

  She opened her eyes for a moment, though everything felt too bright and too big and too close.

  ‘Sit up now. Quickly.’

  Everything was moving too fast. Her head throbbed, her mouth was dry. There was a bitter taste. And there was something else, too, something she couldn’t name. A shift that she sensed but could not explain. She had been bound, the bonds were broken. It didn’t feel like freedom, though. It felt grey. She was empty and cold.

  ‘Here, drink this.’

  She shook her head and pushed the bottle away. She didn’t know what he was trying to give her, but she would not be drugged. Whatever needed to be done, she would do it on her own. Clear-minded.

  ‘One of the dark-cloaks is dead,’ Roland said, in a fierce whisper. ‘They believe that the poison was meant for their leader, and that it was planted on the King’s command.’

  ‘But–’

  ‘Don’t speak. You will need your energy. There was some… further news. It was not unexpected to me, but the timing made its significance greater than would otherwise have been the case. The ship… the Ashkar ship… it sank in the Turmoil, and all on board were lost.’

  ‘But the Ashkar ships do not sink!’ The shock of his words brought her around.

  ‘No,’ Roland agreed. ‘They do not.’

  Orla’s thoughts were racing. She thought of Shiiaan, the girl who had sat before her all those months with her impossibly beautiful hair. She had been aboard. But how was it even possible? The gift of the Ashkar ships was the central tenet of the Treaty. For the Treaty to have been breached, with such loss of life, would make war unavoidable.

  ‘The sinking on its own without the poisoning might have been argued to be a terrible tragic accident. The two combined have… raised suspicions.’

  ‘And the King?’

  ‘Is under guard. The Uruhenshi troops were not just here for show. They have taken control, though the Council remains free at this point. We have to get you out, quickly, before the situation progresses.’

  ‘No,’ Orla said, accepting the wet cloth that Roland offered her, and wiping down her forehead.

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘I won’t go. I won’t leave the King.’

  ‘Do you seek death, Orla? For that is what you will find.’

  ‘I don’t want to leave him,’ she said. ‘He’s lost without me.’

  ‘He is lost whichever way, I fear. It will be down to the Council now, to their powers of negotiation and explanation. They might save themselves and the Treaty, and cut the King loose. Or they might try to save the King, to their own detriment. Either way, you owe him nothing.’

  ‘The Council will see him die.’

  ‘Not all wish that.’

  ‘But enough.’

  Roland shrugged. ‘Perhaps. They are realists. Pragmatists. They do what needs to be done.’

  ‘They are cowards, they waste time. They do nothing.’

  ‘Apparently they have organised a sinking and a poisoning. That’s not nothing, is it?’

  ‘You give them too much credit,’ she said, then regretted the words immediately.

  He looked at her curiously. ‘Is there anything you wish to tell me?’

  She shook her head and kept her mouth closed.

  ‘I understand that the loss of your sister…’

  ‘Don’t talk about my sister,’ she snapped.

  He held her gaze a few more moments. ‘Very well. The binding holds. If you will not leave, at least allow me to put precautionary measures in place.’

  ‘Do you own Uruhenshi troops as well as Palace Guard?’ she said, and saw a momentary shadow pass over Roland’s face.

  ‘I own nobody,’ he said quietly. ‘But I do what I can to look after those I’m duty bound to protect. And I had thought you might wish to go and find Ged, and take him news of what has happened. If he were to return to the Palace now…’

  Orla swallowed. Of course. He was the King’s blood. He would not be safe here or anywhere else once his identity was known to the Uruhenshi. It was only by lucky chance that he had been away at the time these events had unfolded. Or was it, she wondered? The binding had a strange way of twisting things so she no longer knew what was due to luck and what strange shifts of fate her promise had bought her.

  ‘Do you still wish to stay with the King?’

  ‘Let me see him first before I decide, please.’

  ‘It is not so simple, Orla. He is under guard. His every visitor will be monitored and most likely taken captive.’

  ‘And Aderon?’

  Roland looked away.

  ‘What? Where is he? Is he being held with the King too?’

  ‘He is dead. He was killed. They made an example…’

  Her stomach turned. Because of her, he was killed. Aderon, who had always been truthful with her, who lived for nothing but to serve his King.

  The first of many, she heard. Damn that voice. Merryn, I did this for you, she thought. I did this all for you.

  But she knew it was a lie.

  Chapter forty-six

  If this was war, it was a silent one, Orla thought, as she followed Roland through the strangely empty corridors and passageways, past rooms deserted and still. Where was everybody? They had not left the Palace grounds, she knew. The Uruhenshi troops had made certain of that. They must be cloistered in their rooms, as if they could wait out the storm that was coming. So far, little blood had been spilled. Aderon executed, Kendrid poisoned; the deaths had rested on the balance.

  The High Commander was cautious. He may have enough strength to hold the Palace, just, with some of the King’s own guard shifting their allegiance. But his power was left mostly at home. The Uruhenshi were visitors here still. They may have helped themselves to the pantry, put their dirty feet up on the furniture, started a fire from the library books, but this was not their place.

  Not yet.

  High Commander Jexin Beyn would meet with the Council the following day and they would declare their position: with the King or with the Uruhenshi. Orla guessed how most of them would choose.

  ‘Scribe to the King, let her pass,’ Roland adopted his most officious voice. The Uruhenshi guards stationed in the hallway did not move. They regarded her imp
assively, blank-faced, and gave no response.

  ‘She has the right of passage, and the King has requested her presence,’ Roland tried again.

  Still nothing. Orla reached out, felt for their thoughts.

  ‘It’s no good. They have orders to let none through except on express instruction of the High Commander.’

  Roland looked at her sternly and shook his head. She realised what she’d done. ‘That is usually the way these things work anyway, so it’s a fair assumption.’

  ‘Indeed. Then we shall have to find Jexin Beyn and ask him ourselves,’ Roland said, apparently unperturbed. ‘The rules must be upheld, at this time more than any other time,’ he added.

  Orla was certain he was bluffing. But Roland strode off down the corridor, and Orla followed, struggling to keep up. He moves more easily each day, she thought, as though crisis were a tonic to his old age.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she whispered.

  ‘Wait and see,’ was his unhelpful response.

  Whatever had happened when the binding had broken had changed something within her. It was as though her memory of the time leading up to her act was now hazy, seen through mist or clouds. She tried not to think about what she’d done, who she’d killed, that it was she who had set this whole disaster into motion.

  As you knew you would.

  Merryn. Stop it. Leave me alone, she thought. Please.

  The corridors that she remembered being familiar and comfortable with suddenly seemed strange. They took turning after turning. Lamps had been left unlit, floors unswept. The Palace was a labyrinth. She had no idea where they were or where they were going.

  ‘Do you have to walk so fast?’ she said and knew she sounded petulant.

  Roland slowed, then turned and looked at her sternly. ‘This was your idea, remember? If I had my way, you’d be safely out past the Palace walls by now. Though if anywhere will be safe soon, I cannot say. You wanted to see the King and you are going to see the King. In the meantime the least you can do is follow without complaint.’

  Orla blushed and bowed her head.

  ‘There are many ways to reach the King,’ he said, his voice low. ‘We are seeking one of them, the most secret.’

  Then he began to walk again and Orla followed.

  ✤

  She had imagined, when she’d thought of it, that once the binding was broken she’d be free: clean and empty of the rage and anger and black hatred that had filled her for so long. That was not what it was like at all. She felt empty, yes, but the emptiness was a kind of sickness. An ache remained, but it was not clean. She had poisoned herself as truly as she’d poisoned Kendrid. Kendrid. Images of him returned to her unbidden, though she tried to push them away. She’d never liked him, but her mother had loved him, once. And he was Merryn’s father. If Merryn knew… but what did it matter? Merryn was dead. Kendrid was dead now too. Orla was alive, following in the wake of this old man who was striding purposefully, but she herself was purposeless. There was nothing she wanted, nothing she needed. The world might burn in chaos and pain that she had caused but there was nothing she could do. The only thing she longed for now was that darkness that eluded her. The long sleep in Ishkarin’s breast.

  Roland stopped before a tapestry, one of those that seemed to almost cover an entire section of wall. It moved and glowed in a tangle of colours. He spoke a few words and reached forward and everything shifted; there was an opening. He turned and took Orla’s hand. She followed him through.

  ✤

  She had thought as far as wanting to see the King but had not considered what would happen when she did. He was in a small room. It was not a cell, but a room of the royal quarter, luxuriously furnished, bright with sunlight. He was like a well of darkness, sucking light and warmth from the space around him. At first he seemed not to see her, so Orla knelt and bowed her head. ‘My Lord,’ she said.

  And then he turned, the little that he could.

  Tell me what you learned.

  She had readied herself for this moment. ‘This illness, they did not cause it. They did not know of it until their arrival at the Palace. They believe it is the work of their God.’

  Punishment, he said. Perhaps they are right.

  ‘But they will use it. They see that you are weakened, that the Sond are not unified. And with the death of the priest…’

  Who did that? He asked, his thoughts cold with rage. You must know, you must have seen. Was it the Uruhenshi that killed him? Was it a trick, a means to give them reason for war?

  Orla swallowed. She felt her binding to the King like it was a physical thing; it was as though there were strands of burning wire, tightening around her. The pain made her eyes water. But she didn’t care about pain any more. She readied herself, then spoke the lie she knew she must tell him.

  ‘I do not know, my Lord. I’m sorry. Could it have been someone who wasn’t even at the meeting? A guard, or a servant perhaps?’

  A risky move for one not present. Unless they did not care who they targeted, only that somebody died. And the ship? I need to know. Whoever has set this up is determined that the Treaty should break. The Treaty that we fought for, bled for. The only thing standing between us and war…

  ‘Do you think they might work for the Dryuk? That they are trying to break the alliance to weaken our defences?’

  I do not know. There was a pause. That might be, or else they might just not foresee the consequences of their actions. At least Jexin is cool-headed. There may yet be a way out of this knot that we find ourselves in.

  Orla lowered her head.

  Will you speak to the Council for me? With Aderon gone… The King’s thoughts fell suddenly silent. The darkness grew.

  ‘Of course, my Lord. If I am able. What do you wish me to say?’

  I must know their intentions. I am sure that one of the Council are involved. Someone knows who struck the match that burns my Kingdom like so much dry tinder.

  ‘I will try, my Lord.’

  And tell Roland that his duties now are of even greater import than they ever have been. You must be protected. Your identity must be kept secret from our guests. I do not wish to imagine what your fate would be should the Uruhenshi discover you…

  Orla shivered. She sensed his premonition – or was it a memory? Flame and pain and screaming… She thought of the task Kynan had given her.

  ‘My Lord, Kynan spoke to me, the day before the Uruhenshi arrived. I was meant to let you know sooner. He says he has been seeking for signs and has found them. He says he believes the Darkfall is almost upon us.’

  There was a moment of silence, so deep, so utter, that Orla wondered that the King had not drifted off into some profound sleep.

  That is what I too have feared. If only we were not so blind to what moves around us… I will think on this Orla. It is not a surprise to me, but coming from Kynan, it troubles me deeply.

  ‘My Lord there is one more thing…’

  Yes?

  ‘Ged left the Palace on a trip some days ago. He has not yet returned. Should we try to send word?’

  He’ll hear soon enough. My son is a coward. Once he knows what awaits him here, he will not willingly return. His cowardice should keep him safe, for the time being.

  ‘But do you think–’

  That is all.

  Orla waited a moment, in case he would send her anything further, but his mind had fallen into dark and silent ponderings and she retreated. She did not want to hear.

  ✤

  Although Orla had always felt removed from the rhythms of daily life in the Palace, she sensed the void that was left now those rhythms were gone. Roland walked her back and then vanished, as was his usual way. The listlessness she had felt on waking had not subsided. She spent most of the day sitting in her chamber, listening to the sporadic march of heavy feet in the hallways outside. Her own guard were gone, which she expected would feel like a relief, but just left her feeling abandoned. Each time she heard movement she stiffen
ed, waited, but she was not bothered by anybody. Most likely the Uruhenshi did not know who she was or that she was even there. There was no further violence, or not that she could sense, but there was none of the normal life of the place either – no singing, no laughter, no half-whispered gossip in the halls. Just a leaden silence broken by the sounds of troops.

  Had she made a mistake in staying, Orla wondered? She was still bound to serve the King, and the binding drew her, shaped her thoughts, gnawed at her dreams. And the King had given her a task. But was it foolishness for him to even think there was any way he could influence this situation for the better?

  She turned her mind to the Council. Despite having seen them regularly in the Great Hall, she knew little about their personal lives, where each of their rooms were, how they might be reached.

  Mishi, Orla thought suddenly. Mishi would know. She’d been in the Palace since she was just a girl, she’d know everything. Orla did not move straight away, though. In the current situation, invisibility was the greatest protection she could have. Sitting here in her room, she would not be bothered, she would not bring herself to any attention. As soon as she stepped out the door…

  And then she realised something else, something that brought a bitter taste to her tongue. Piroxi was still alive. He was here somewhere.

  ✤

  She opened the door and stepped out. The silence made her skin prickle. She’d become so used to the continual hum of movement and conversation that came from living surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of others; only now that it was gone did she realise its warmth.