Lost in the Dawn (Erythleh Chronicles Book 1)

by Catherine Johnson

  ~o0o~

  Her father had not yet been scattered to the winds, but the country needed a leader, so an emergency vote had been called. As he had predicted, Erkas had been elected to take his father’s place. Serwren had looked around the circular room to gauge the general feeling of the result, but there was no discord, even though the result had not been a landslide decision in her brother's favour. The result had been an overwhelming majority, but Seddrill, Remmah and Ellspith had voted against Erkas.

  Once the most important piece of business had been concluded, it was time to induct the newly elected consul, a man named Tayban. The induction hadn’t taken place before the vote for the leadership of the Forum, because it might have resulted in a deadlock. With no First Father to cast the thirteenth and deciding vote, and as the nominees were unable to vote for themselves, the majority decision for the senior position was taken from the eleven remaining possible votes.

  Not that the outcome would have been altered by Tayban’s input. In the few days that she had been resident in the city, Serwren had already garnered enough knowledge to know that Tayban was a friend of her brother’s. It was unlikely that the democratic process by which he’d been elected to the position of consul had been without undue influence.

  As she had watched her brother accept the honours bestowed upon him, Serwren had thoroughly abandoned her dream of ever joining the Forum. She had not forgotten the conversation that she’d had with Seddrill those long years ago, and judging by his vote, he hadn’t forgotten it either, but she did not want to join a Forum which was presided over by her brother. There would be no equality or democracy there. Whether the people of Felthiss were aware or not, Serwren neither knew nor cared, but she knew that the country had altered from a democracy to a dictatorship that day.

  Her only ambition now was to raise Ulli, to ensure that he grew strong enough to protect himself, and that he was protected from her brother’s insidious influence so he could grow up to be a man she could be proud of.

  Although the celebrations following the political shenanigans were subdued, Serwren avoided them, preferring to find Ulli and take him to the library. Their belongings had arrived from the country - accompanied by Aileth - and they were now settled as much as they could be, so Serwren had determined that it was time to resume her son’s education.

  The room that had once brought her so much peace and enjoyment was hateful to her now. It was part of her gilded cage, but she got them both settled at a table with a book which detailed the history of King Ekvit, the last unelected ruler of Felthiss. The ways in which power could corrupt a man seemed an apt and essential subject for her son to learn, especially on this day. Ulli, however, was in no mood for lessons. He had been stunned by the magnificence of the palace and the sheer scale of it. It was the largest building he had ever set foot inside, and he had been overwhelmed for a day or two. Once his awe had subsided, Ulli had scampered off to explore every nook and corner.

  Ulli struggled to keep his attention on the paragraphs that Serwren explained to him. Eventually he gave up trying altogether. “Did you have lessons here, Mama, when you lived in the palace?”

  “Yes, I did. Consul Remmah taught your uncle and me.”

  “Were you the only students that she taught?”

  That seemed like an odd question. “Why do you ask?”

  “I was in the kitchens yesterday and heard the servants talking about a boy. But it wasn’t Uncle Erkas that they were talking about.”

  The day that she’d had to introduce her son to her brother, and had decreed that Ulli should call Erkas uncle, had been one of the most bitter of Serwren’s life. She had to stifle a grimace whenever she heard the words on her innocent son’s tongue.

  “No, there was another boy that had lessons with us.”

  The voice that resounded across the room from the doorway almost caused Serwren to jump full clear of her seat with shock.

  “But he was very naughty and had to be sent away for a very long time. So you heed your mother, Ulli, and be a good student.”

  Erkas was standing just inside the room, still wearing his ceremonial robes. The cloak skimmed the floor, and the cuffs of the sleeves were so wide that they hardly resembled sleeves at all. The shimmering, sunshine-gold brocade was edged with intricate embroidery of silver thread and crystal beads, which depicted representations of all the flora and fauna of the country. It had been the inaugural dress of the position of First Father since the ceremonies had been initiated.

  Serwren closed the book, not bothering to mark their place. “Ulli, I think we should defer your lessons for another time. Perhaps you would rather continue your exploration of the gardens.”

  It was not a question, and the young boy caught his mother’s meaning immediately. He gave her a quizzical look. Serwren knew Ulli sensed the unease between her and his uncle, but he did not argue with her. Ulli rose and ran out of the room, taking the gift of freedom, whatever its origins, before it could be withdrawn.

  Both adults watched him leave.

  “You didn’t have to send him away. He might have learned something,” Erkas said as he walked over to Serwren, the silk rustling around him, and took the seat by her side that Ulli had vacated. He took a moment to arrange the copious cloak until he was comfortable.

  “I don’t imagine that there is anything that you could teach him that would be necessary to his development,” Serwren commented in an arch tone.

  Erkas snorted. “Ambition, resourcefulness and cunning are all virtues that he would do well to learn.

  Serwren thought it best to avoid a discussion about Erkas’ qualities. “Did you come specifically to advise me on the education of my son, or do you have another reason for tormenting me?”

  “I’m not tormenting you, sister. Trust me, if I wish to torment you, you’ll know that’s what I’m doing. I merely thought to give you advance notice of my intentions regarding the army.”

  He had lied. He was tormenting her. Serwren waited for him to continue the speech had so eagerly begun.

  “You’re not interested in the movements of our armed forces? I had thought they might be of particular concern to you. Very well, I suppose it will not matter then that I plan to send them into Vuthron?” Erkas shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes never left Serwren’s face.

  The lunacy of the idea struck Serwren as much as it’s deadly implications.

  “Vuthron? Why? We’ve had a peaceable relationship for decades.”

  “I will succeed where Ekvit failed. As soon as the campaign in Litt is complete, I will issue the orders to return home to re-arm before I send them on their way. You’ll have a chance to say goodbye, I wouldn’t deny you that.”

  And therein, Serwren saw the real reasoning behind Erkas ridiculous plans, because sending an army of men against an army of the undead was tantamount to genocide. “You’re doing this just to kill Jorrell,” she whispered. “You’re sending all those men to their deaths so that you can kill one man. A man who hasn’t been a threat to you in over a decade.”

  “I disagree, he’s more a threat now than he ever was. And he is not simply a man, he’s a decorated General. A man with an army at his disposal. I can hardly smother him in his sleep, or poison his wine.”

  Something in Erkas' words caught the frayed edge of one of Serwren’s memories. The horrifying truth of Consul Sephan’s death revealed itself to her in an instant. She was caught in a terrifying web, the virtual prisoner of a man who had murdered at least two people, had committed atrocious acts, and who was willing to toss away life like so much dust on the breeze. It took her a moment to force her voice past her fear.

  “The Forum won’t support you.”

  “They will. I have them in the palm of my hand, or, at least, most of them. I have enough votes to drown out those that disagree with me. And as you know so well, dear sister, it is never a very good idea to disagree with me.”

  Serwren couldn’t stay there any longer. She couldn’t keep up
the façade of being comfortable with Erkas' close proximity, and she had to find a way to stop his madness. But first, she needed to think. She needed to make plans to keep Ulli safe. Serwren felt deep in the pit of her stomach that it was too late for her, that she would not see the end of Erkas’ psychosis, but she had to find a way to keep Ulli from harm, even if that meant sending him away.

  Serwren stood. Erkas seemed surprised at her movement.

  “I have a headache. I’m going to find Ulli, and then we shall retire to our rooms. I will arrange for our meals to be sent up to us tonight.”

  Erkas smiled a slow smile. She knew that he could tell that he had achieved the effect he had desired.

  “I shall miss your company at dinner, sister. But you must take care of yourself and your son. It wouldn’t do for either of you to fall into poor health.”

  Serwren walked stiffly out of the library. She headed to the gardens first. She hadn’t lied about wanting to find Ulli; she needed to keep her boy closer than ever before. She hadn’t lied about having a headache, either. The nefarious plotting made her mind spin until she thought her brain would burst out of her skull.

  And she had to be careful now with every step, every word, every breath. She had to assume that she would always be watched, would always be overheard, and that her brother would use anything and everything against her.

  ~o0o~

  Serwren felt the air shift in the great room. Perversely, the ballroom was probably one of the most private rooms in the palace. There were few hidden corners, and the myriad reflections caught by the floor and the sheer amount of glass made it hard for anyone to hide.

  She stayed where she was, by her father’s coffin, and listened to the almost soundless footsteps make their way towards her.

  “I got your message.”

  Seddrill’s voice was a mere breath at her shoulder. Serwren looked around the room again. She examined the moonlit shadows intently before she turned.

  “Thank you for heeding my call.”

  “You went to great lengths to ensure that I would be the only person to hear it. Whatever you wish to speak to me about, it must be important.”

  “It is. I had to tell you...” Serwren paused. She wasn’t sure how to impart such drastic news. Seddrill had once admitted to having spies in the city, but she doubted that her brother had allowed anyone to hear of his plans before he’d laid them before her. It would have ruined the surprise. “Erkas plans to send the army to invade Vuthron.”

  Seddrill’s face showed his shock. As ever, he was more composed than to allow his expression to become a parody. His surprise was conducted only in the widening of his eyes and the slight parting of his lips. “That is insanity. He can’t possibly win.”

  “He doesn’t intend to win. He intends to lose. As long as General Jorrell dies, he doesn’t care that he jeopardises decades of peace, that he risks the safety of our nation. He would plunge Felthiss into a war, risk angering Vuthron into an invasion, all for pride.”

  “He told you this?”

  “Yes. He took great delight in imparting his plans.”

  “I’m sure that he did.” Seddrill knew enough of Serwren’s history that he was not surprised by Erkas’ cruelty to his sister, or that he would tell her such sensitive information. Serwren knew that Seddrill knew Erkas well enough to know that what Erkas had told her was the truth, not a mere trick to play with her emotions.

  “Seddrill, my son and I are in danger here, but we cannot escape, not yet. I need allies.”

  “You are not without friends, Serwren.”

  “I care not for friends. Friends cannot be relied upon. I need allies, and dependable alliances are never free.”

  “Serwren, please, make your meaning clear.”

  They were still talking in hushed tones, but Serwren did not want to take even the slightest risk of being overheard. She stepped closer to Seddrill. He watched her warily, but did not move away. He had to look down to her; her head came only up to his chest.

  “How long has it been since you made the blood toast?”

  “Excuse me?” Seddrill’s brows creased with the question.

  “How long?”

  Seddrill took a deep breath and released his answer with the exhale. “I haven’t made the blood toast since I came to Felthiss.”

  “How long?” Serwren had an idea of the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it. She needed to hear him confirm her suspicion.

  “Twenty years.” She could hear how much the answer cost Seddrill to admit.

  “And if you could make it again?”

  “Serwren, please. Do not talk in riddles, not about this. It is a subject too painful to play with.”

  “Seddrill, I offer you the opportunity to make the blood toast again, whenever you want. In return, I request only your assistance and support when I need it. I would like you to be my ally, as well as my friend.”

  Seddrill’s reply was thick with suspicion. “And whose blood would I be drinking?”

  “Mine.”

  Seddrill shook his head and whispered urgently, “You don’t know what bargain it is that you are making.”

  “I do. Blood is important to you. You believe it maintains the magic of your royal line, but it’s more than that, it’s a part of your culture. It is part of who you are, and you’ve had to deny that part of yourself for so very long. I’m offering you the opportunity to be whole again. I will give you any information that I can regarding Erkas. Will you help me stop him? He cannot be allowed to continue unchecked.”

  “King Kavrazel will crush his army. He will not tolerate Felthiss trying to impose its will on Vuthron a second time. It is almost a certainty that he would decide to return the favour, that he would invade Felthiss.”

  Serwren’s neck was beginning to ache from looking up at the taller man, but she would put their words in jeopardy of being overheard if she stepped back to relieve such a minor inconvenience. “I know, and that is why we must prevent this war.”

  “You risk much.”

  “I would risk everything to keep those I love safe. If Erkas continues his plan for the army, if Vuthron invades Felthiss, then no one will be safe.”

  They were standing close enough that Seddrill barely had to lift his arm to circle one of Serwren’s wrists with his long fingers. He brushed his thumb in circles over the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist. Having now made the offer, even though she had thought long and hard about the sacrifices she would be willing to make, the touch took on new significance, a deeper meaning. She felt the caress through her whole body. When she imagined Seddrill’s lips against her skin, she felt fear at the thought of such an intimate touch, but she would not retreat.

  She knew that Seddrill had felt the tension thrumming through her. “And if I wanted to seal our deal with a toast?” he murmured.

  He wasn’t taunting or teasing her. He wasn’t testing her. She knew that he was offering her a chance to retract her offer. Serwren looked Seddrill directly in the eyes as she caught the chain attached to the knife hidden in her skirts, and fumbled until she was able to free it from its scabbard. She offered the knife to Seddrill, hilt first.

  Seddrill took the blade from her without speaking. He brought her wrist between them and made a quick slice against the skin. The pain was sharp, and Serwren gasped, but the cut was small. Seddrill kept Serwren’s eyes locked with his as he licked the thin trickle of blood that had escaped with the pointed tip of his tongue before fastening his mouth over the wound.

  The intimacy of the moment and the touch stunned Serwren. She had tried to visualise it, she had wanted to be prepared before she offered the opportunity, but she hadn’t expected it to be so sensual, and she hadn’t experienced any sensual touch since before Jorrell’s exile. Memories of other touches, unwelcome touches, caused her heart to falter in its rhythm, but the warmth of Seddrill’s lips, the rasp of his tongue over her skin and the intensity in his dark eyes kept her grounded in the moment.

&n
bsp; It seemed both an age and a second had passed before he released her.

  “Lady Serwren, I would be honoured to be both your ally and your friend.”

  Serwren knew that she had taken an irrevocable step, that she was pitting herself head on against her brother, and something in that thought tasted a little like victory.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A casual observer might have thought that the fall of the capital city would herald the fall of the country, but that had not been the case in Litt. The defeat had dented their defensive position, but the Littens had not given up. They were tenacious, if unorganised.