‘We have guests, Elder Morlen,’ the bald Elder rolled his eyes.
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ the bearded Elder waved at Aviendel invitingly, before promptly falling back to sleep.
‘To what do we owe the pleasure, Captain Aviendel?’ the grinning Elder spread his hands inquisitively.
‘Elder Calaem… Elders,’ Aviendel bowed deeply in turn to all three, ‘I bring with me–’
Aviendel was caught mid-speech as the iron doors creaked open behind them, followed immediately by heavy footfalls and the swish swish of a cloak.
‘AVIENDEL! WHAT DID I TELL YOU? BRING THE BOY TO ME! I SAID–’
The Szar stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Illiara.
‘Princess Illiara! What are you doing here–’
‘Forgetting something, Draeden?’ she spoke bluntly.
The Obsidian Crown trembled atop the Szar’s head. Kusk narrowed his eyes at the girl but eventually submitted himself, with apparent reluctance, on one knee, holding his head up defiantly.
‘As I said, Aviendel, the Szar will make time,’ Illiara told the abashed Guard Captain.
Aviendel winced at Illiara’s words. He gave an apologetic look to Kusk, which was returned with an icy stare.
‘That’s the guy?’ Gabe grunted behind Nathaniel.
‘Yes,’ Nathaniel replied through gritted teeth.
‘The one who wants to kill us all?’
‘The one and only.’
The crack of Gabe’s knuckles echoed across the Hall.
‘So, Captain Aviendel. I presume your visit concerns the return of this–’ the bald Elder paused to grimace at Nathaniel, ‘–Kinslayer?’
‘By Athrana’s grace, Elder Ailas, it is indeed the truth,’ Aviendel nodded.
‘Then our Empress-In-Waiting has left her grieving to deliver her sentence?’ Elder Ailas turned expectantly to Illiara.
Nathaniel dared not look at Illiara, as they awaited her verdict. He did not remember whether it was he who had reached for Brey’s hand but there they stood, gripping each other tightly in anticipation.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ she spoke in a hushed tone beside his ear.
He truly hoped she was right. How fitting it was the girl who had hoped to kill him, the one girl with enough cause to deliver the execution herself, who should hold his life in her hands.
Elder Morlen’s snores rumbled loudly throughout the Hall, then fell silent as the Princess took an intake of breath.
‘I would hear the accused speak,’ she said.
Nathaniel let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Had he heard her right?
‘WHAT?’
The Szar stomped up to Illiara in a red-faced fury that seemed to make the puckered scars splitting his face pulse.
‘You can’t be serious, Princess! This boy murdered your father! Say the word now and I’ll have him put to the Stone!’
‘I am quite serious, Draeden,’ Illiara replied coolly.
The Szar flapped his arms against his sides and spun to face the Elders. ‘This is ridiculous! Why are we wasting time with words when we should be consigning Tolken’s murderer to the Stone?’
‘I had a similar thought,’ Nathaniel growled. Aviendel’s sword was already against his throat, preventing him from taking another step forward.
‘I agree, your Grace,’ Elder Ailas said. ‘But… the Empress-In-Waiting is entitled to hear the Kinsalyer’s plea.’ The Elder looked as disappointed as Kusk on the matter.
‘Regardless of either of their intentions, we’ve yet to hear the boy’s initial testimony,’ Elder Calaem said.
‘Let him speak!’ Elder Morlen woke suddenly, slapping a hand against an armrest enthusiastically, before swiftly nestling back in his seat and snoring once more.
Elder Calaem gave his fellow Elder a bemused look then beckoned Nathaniel to come closer. Aviendel sheathed his blade and backed away to allow Nathaniel entry into the space between Illiara and Kusk. Nathaniel gave an appreciative smile to Illiara, which was met with an uncertain look in response. Gabe gave a brief encouraging nod; Brey a trembling smile; Samir dry washed his hands, clearly eager to get his hands on whatever book he could find; Kaira bent her head slightly and gave him a narrow look, as if assessing his chances of survival. He hoped things looked better than they felt.
The Szar’s chest heaved angrily beside him but he refused to give Nathaniel so much as a glance.
Nathaniel’s eyes flickered to the Obsidian Crown. He had to resist the urge to snatch it from the Szar’s head and hit him with it.
‘Don’t do anything stupid, boy,’ the rod’s voice intervened in his thoughts.
‘Nathaniel Grey, you stand accused of the murder of Emperor Jael Tolken, before the triumvirate of Elders, Emperor, and Szar. How do you plea?’ Elder Ailas said.
‘Innocent, Elder Ailas, I have come to clear my name,’ Nathaniel replied.
‘Preposterous!’ the Szar spat.
Elder Calaem held up his hand. ‘We are listening to Nathaniel’s testimony, we have already heard yours in considerable detail, your Grace.’
The Szar folded his hands behind his back and pushed out his chin but thankfully held his silence. So, Nathaniel began his tale, starting with the abduction by Crow from the palace cells. Calaem’s ears pricked up at the mention of the Crow’s apparent collusion with the Szar, as Nathaniel had overhead in the warehouse in Morne, and he leaned forward in his chair.
‘I do seem to recall one of the guardsmen reporting of this ‘shadow-wielder,’ Calaem turned to his fellow Elders.
‘One guardsman,’ Elder Ailas scoffed, ‘it’s hardly sufficient evidence!’
Elder Morlen jolted awake. ‘Necromancers,’ he whispered ominously then slumped back.
A sharp silence fell over the Hall and the other two Elders shivered.
‘One guardsman,’ Elder Ailas repeated quietly.
Elder Calaem coughed loudly into his arm. He then waved to Nathaniel, urging him to continue with his account.
Kusk was impressively nonchalant whilst Nathaniel spoke of the Sisters’ attempt on his life, during the journey from Dalmarra to Obsidia. Though, the Regal’s lip curled, nastily, after Nathaniel mentioned the mines of Dün Moine and the loss of Zaine in its lower tunnels.
‘Troubling indeed…’ Calaem ran a hand through his upturned hair, as if in a futile attempt at smoothing it down.
‘Troubling as it may be, Elder Calaem, I hardly see how this exonerates the Kinslayer!’ Elder Ailas threw his hand dismissively in Nathaniel’s direction.
‘I also have this, Elders.’
Nathaniel dug a hand into his pockets and withdrew a handful of crumpled envelopes, each bearing broken Regal seals. He turned to give Kusk a triumphant glare of his own. The Szar’s eyes seemed to have turned an even icier shade of blue.
‘What are those?’ Elder Ailas squinted down at Nathaniel.
‘Correspondence,’ Nathaniel waved the letters in the air. ‘Between Emperor Jael Tolken and Thorne Grey of the Brotherhood of Lycans.’
There was an audible gasp from the gathered Regals. There was also a look of longing in Illiara’s eyes that made Nathaniel feel awfully guilty. Suddenly he realised that he’d been withholding Tolken’s words from his own daughter, without knowing otherwise.
‘Forgeries!’ Ailas pointed an accusing finger at Nathaniel.
‘That looks awfully like the Emperor’s seal,’ Calaem contested. The Elder did look slightly uncomfortable with that point. ‘Captain Aviendel, if you would be so kind as to bring the letters over?’
Aviendel snatched the letters from Nathaniel’s hand, before Calaem had so much as completed his sentence and passed them over to the Elder. Elder Calaem turned the envelopes delicately in each hand before pulling out the letters folded within. His eyes ran over the contents once and then he placed the letter back within the envelope without touching the others.
‘It’s his. It’s Tolken’s handwriting and seal.’
‘Impossible!’ Ailas palmed the armrest of his throne fiercely.
‘Have a look if you wish, Ailas,’ Calaem sighed, ‘in fact, take as many as you need. It won’t change their authenticity.’
Ailas didn’t bother to consider his fellow Elder’s words. His eyes were fixed on the envelopes back in Aviendel’s hands.
When they reached Elder Ailas’ groping fingers, the Regal took less than half the care Calaem had, ripping the parchment out of the envelopes in a mild frenzy. He seemed to go over Tolken’s scrawl a dozen times, each time closely scrutinising the envelope’s broken seal, eyes bulging increasingly after every read.
‘It cannot be…’ Nathaniel thought he heard the Regal murmur to himself.
Eventually, the Elder slapped the letters against his thigh and slumped into his seat.
‘Elder Calaem… is not wrong,’ Ailas muttered regretfully.
The Szar, the veins in his neck practically throbbing, took a step closer to the Elders’ thrones. He looked angry.
‘This proves nothing!’ Kusk insisted. ‘A few foolish words from Tolken won’t exonerate the boy! The matter of… relations… is a separate thing entirely. The Kinslayer wastes your time with irrelevancies!’
‘Irrelevancies?’ Nathaniel said quietly.
The Regals turned to him.
‘Those were the last written words of Emperor Jael Tolken. Words looking to forge a peaceful relationship between Lycan and Regal,’ Nathaniel could feel himself shaking as he spoke.
‘Foolish words,’ the Szar repeated himself. ‘A pity you killed him before he could discuss his plans with the Elders.’
‘Stop it! Both of you!’ Illiara cried, ‘your childish bickering gets us nowhere!’
Ailas bit his lip thoughtfully as he drummed his fingers against the armrest of his throne. He pointed at Illiara with the letters still clutched in one hand.
‘You’ve travelled with the accused, Princess Illiara,’ Elder Ailas said. ‘What do you make of his evidence?’
Nathaniel felt his stomach leap to his chest in anticipation.
‘I… I don’t quite know anymore, Elders,’ Illiara bowed her head.
‘Then the Stone awaits,’ Kusk said. He thrust a finger out at Nathaniel, ‘Aviendel! Seize the Kinslayer!’
Aviendel moved initially, with the instinctive step of one used to following orders without question. However, he hesitated at the second step, and turned to Illiara with his sword halfway out of its scabbard.
‘Enough!’ Elder Calaem barked, ‘there will be no sentencing whilst the accused’s guilt remains in question!’
‘Remains in question?’ Kusk looked stupendous, ‘the boy’s own father saw him murder Tolken in cold blood! Before he was eventually turned on by the accused in question!’
‘LIAR!’
Two Regal guards seized Nathaniel’s arms, before he could launch himself at Kusk.
The Szar leaned towards Nathaniel, close enough that he could see the whites of Kusk’s eyes. ‘Just can’t get enough of killing, can you, Kinslayer?’ he hissed.
The creak of the Hall’s doors brought the Szar’s attention away. The sneer that had enveloped his features was not in the least bit comforting.
‘How kind of you to finally join us Laevan. I was just telling the Elders about the day of your son’s wedding.’
The footsteps stopped.
Nathaniel felt a lump rising in his throat. He didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to look at his father. Curiosity, however, is a funny thing. If all else fails, curiosity will drive you. Laevan Grey’s newly grown red bush of beard looked alien on his face. From the way his nose wrinkled above it, it seemed he was not particularly used to it either.
‘Nathaniel…’
The beard hid much but not all. Not the way his father’s eyes pinched at the corners, so subtly Nathaniel could easily have missed it.
Do you regret it father? Do you regret throwing me away like an old toy?
Nathaniel didn’t care, in truth. Though he wasn’t quite sure what to feel. Perhaps all the anger he’d directed at the Szar had left him too numb to spare any feeling toward his father.
‘We’ve heard Laevan’s testimony long ago, your Grace,’ Calaem cut in.
The Szar’s cloak whipped as he twirled to face the Elders. ‘Yet you seem to have forgotten about it already, Calaem.’
Calaem’s eyebrow raised. Perhaps at not being afforded the use of his title. ‘We have not. And now, there is fresh evidence to consider, your Grace.’
The Szar scoffed.
‘The rest of you are willing to consider the Kinslayer’s lies?’ Kusk inquired of Elder Ailas and the slumbering Elder Morlen.
Elder Ailas grimaced as she shifted about his seat. ‘We must consider all evidence, your Grace.’
‘I see…’
The Szar moved his hands to grasp the crown on his head.
‘If you will not permit the boy to Stone, then I will be forced to permit him death instead!’ the Szar tossed the Obsidian Crown away. The other Regals gave out a combined cry and, half-heartedly, made to reach towards it. The crown bounced once over the marble floor with a metallic dink, rollicked side to side, before finally settling below the Elders’ feet.
‘What is the meaning of this, your Grace?’ Elder Calaem demanded.
‘Come now, Calaem, let’s not play games here. But for your sake, I will be official.’ Kusk bent on one knee and placed a palm against the floor. ‘I, Draeden Kusk, do wilfully, in the presence of the Elders of Obsidia and her Empress-In-Waiting, abdicate the Obsidian Crown and return to protecting Obsidia and her borders.’
‘You can’t do this, Draeden!’ Calaem looked infuriated.
Even Elder Morlen had awoken from his slumber, holding a grave look as he observed the proceedings.
Kusk’s eyes glinted madly as he continued undeterred. ‘In my first act as Szar, I proclaim a state emergency and demand the trial of the Kinslayer, by blood!’
‘This is unacceptable–’
A touch from Elder Morlen was enough to silence Calaem, who immediately lowered his head shamefully.
‘You freely forsake the Obsidian Crown?’ Morlen inquired of the Szar. The Elder looked a few decades younger, all of the sudden. He gripped the arms of his seat, no longer with the desperation of one close to slipping from their chair, but with the assuredness of a King.
‘I do, Elder Morlen,’ Kusk replied.
Elder Morlen sighed. ‘Then we release you from your bonds and accept your… request.’ Morlen turned his wrinkled eyes to Nathaniel. ‘Take the day to ready yourself, Nathaniel Grey. Tonight, the arena will test your innocence.’
Chapter 41
Nathaniel paced back and forth across the red velvet carpet, muttering to himself furiously. The white guardsmen that had been assigned to Nathaniel watched him quietly beside the door, motionless as statues.
How could he have been so stupid as to think he would just arrive at Obsidia and clear his name? Of course, the Szar had a plan up his sleeve, just in case he couldn’t execute Nathaniel on the spot. And now he was faced with a more terrifying prospect – fighting in the arena. No one had fought in the arena for centuries, as far as he was aware. To make matters worse, the Szar would have near full control over what he would face there.
Eventually, he got bored of all the pacing around and slumped into the plush armchair in the corner of the room, next to the ornate wooden desk and chair. The room was bordered, on both sides, by tall bookcases that touched the ceiling. Nathaniel had been tempted to pass the time by grabbing one of the books, but it seemed stupid, when he was mere hours away from fighting in the arena. He couldn’t practice either, having been stripped of his sword and dagger.
The Elders had arranged for a rudimentary pallet to be brought into the study. Though, he hardly felt like sleeping, especially not with the guards watching him. Nathaniel almost wished that he’d been whisked off to the arena immediately.
He wond
ered how the others were doing. Despite the severity of the situation, Gabe’s eyes had lit up like fireworks when the Szar mentioned the arena. He was probably fuming that he couldn’t take part. Kaira was likely admonishing the Lycan with a roll of her eyes, whilst Samir sat a world apart in his book. And Brey…
A knock at the door quickly dissipated the thought. One of the guards drew back and slapped the haft of his pike horizontally against his side, the tip pointing at the door.
‘Begone!’ the second shouted, ‘the Elders have declared this room sealed.’
‘I know Nathaniel’s in there, guardsman, I’ve come to speak. I’m unarmed.’
Nathaniel frowned. It couldn’t be...
‘My name is Solas Grey, I’m the Kinslayer’s brother.’
Nathaniel jumped out of his chair immediately. ‘Let him through,’ he pleaded with the guard nearest him.
The white guard with the raised lance considered this for a moment then nodded his helmet at the second, who unlocked the door, allowing the younger sibling inside. The door closed quickly again with a click and the boy raised his arms to be searched.
Solas looked better rested than when Nathaniel had last laid eyes on him. Yet his brother’s cheeks seemed strapped more tightly to the bone than Nathaniel remembered, as if he’d aged in years rather than a few paltry months. His blonde hair, once wild and unkempt, had been trimmed to half the length atop the crown of his head and shorn bare around the sides.
A black and gold breastplate, burnished heavily it seemed to hide the nicks and scores that marked the surface, held him in a stiffly straight pose. Nathaniel felt his heart sink in his chest at the realisation – the Szar had claimed his brother, body and soul.
‘Brother,’ Solas spoke first. His smile was tight, controlled, almost mechanical. His face quivered, as if it longed to break out one of his mischievous grins.
‘Solas, you look–’
‘–like I can’t breathe? I think I might have strapped my armour too tightly this morning. I almost fainted climbing up those stairs!’ Solas chuckled at the thought. That was more like his brother. He pointed at the unused pallet, ‘can’t sleep?’
Nathaniel Grey and the Obsidian Crown Page 25
