Measure and the Truth

by Doug Niles

  Captain Blackgaard stepped into Blayne’s path, and the nobleman feinted a thrust at the mercenary Dark Knight’s face. The veteran officer sneered and stepped back then charged again. Once more the lord struck high; once more Blackgaard parried the blow. Then too late, he saw his mistake. The lord stabbed straight ahead, driving his blade through the captain’s belly, pushing him back and down with the force of the killing blow.

  Then the new men, led by Sir Ballard, were all around. They spilled from the stairs to rush across the platform. Archers shot arrows at the Dark Knights who had been blocked outside the city gate by the closed portcullis. Unable to fight against those lethal missiles, the horsemen put spurs to their mounts and galloped into the night.

  Only vaguely did Blayne understand that he had been saved, but when he finally realized who his savior was, he clasped hands with Sir Ballard and allowed himself a groan of relief.

  The Legion of Steel was there.

  “Are you all right?” Jaymes said, kneeling beside Selinda while Coryn freed the bonds on Melissa du Juliette. They were in Selinda’s rooms in the palace, having teleported there after the Nightmaster and the lord regent left the Golden Spire.

  “Yes—I’ll be fine. But the city—the coup?”

  “I think the coup is falling apart. But I have to go out there and be seen. The people need to know that their emperor is back.”

  “Yes, they do,” the emperor’s wife agreed. She winced in sudden memory. “But Father! He—”

  “I know,” Jaymes said. “He’s even more of a scoundrel than I thought he was.”

  “Where did he go?” Selinda asked.

  “The Nightmaster’s magic bore them both away from here,” Melissa explained. “They could be anywhere.”

  “I have a feeling I know where they are,” Jaymes said grimly. “And as soon as the city is secured, I will be going there. Now … I’m sorry … but I have to go.”

  “Yes—and good luck to you,” said the princess. She made no move to embrace or to kiss him, and after a moment’s hesitation, he turned and quickly departed, running down the palace stairs.

  The princess collapsed back against the couch, trying to catch her breath and fathom all that was happening.

  Coryn and Melissa du Juliette explained how they had tracked her to the Hale and Farewell, confronted Lame Hale, and brought Jaymes back to Palanthas.

  “Thank you—thank you both,” Selinda said gratefully. “What about that place—Lame Hale! He’s a slaver, right here in Palanthas!”

  “He’s a dead slaver now,” the priestess noted grimly. “Someone killed him with a spell while we were trying to question him. Everyone associated with that place will be dealt with. As we learned what was happening, the knights of Kiri-Jolith were moving into that place, rounding up everyone they could catch there. Their justice will be stern, and it is safe to assume the building has been destroyed, the proprietors slain or captured.” She shook her head. “I do not envy the prisoners of the knights, if those prisoners are known to have abused a woman.”

  “Why did he pick me?” Selinda wondered. “Nobody in there knew who I was; that’s one thing I liked about the place.”

  “Perhaps it was nothing more than a random accosting,” the priestess suggested.

  “I’m not so sure,” Coryn said, surprising both of the women.

  “What do you mean?” Selinda asked.

  “I spoke to some of the customers in that place and the barkeep after we took Hale and found your ring. I’m convinced he did know who you are.”

  “But—how? I never revealed my identity!” protested the princess.

  “That is a very good question. But the barkeep’s story has led me to believe that Hale must have been trying to lure you, personally, into the place. I suspect he used charm magic himself. He was a sorcerer, though not a follower of godly magic.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “Why did you go in there in the first place?” the wizard probed gently.

  “I … I was just out walking. It felt so good to be free of my room, my guards … my husband. And I followed the inviting scent of the waterfront because it had been so long since I’d been there. At least, I thought that was the reason. And then this man, Hale, called to me as I passed on the street. I was frightened at first … but then, it just seemed like it would be interesting and fun.”

  Selinda felt sick and humiliated as she made her confession.

  “And once you were inside? I understand you went there several times. Why?”

  “Hale … well, he seemed so friendly. A good listener …” Selinda’s voice trailed away. How could she have been so foolish? Or so lucky, she realized, considering the narrowness of her escape. “How did you find me?” she asked.

  “The ring I gave you,” Coryn explained. “Because I made it, its magic has a very strong connection to me. We noticed you had been missing over a period of days, so I cast a spell to locate the ring, and the ring led us to Hale.”

  Selinda slumped back in her chair, sinking into the cushions, weary and still frightened.

  “There’s more,” Melissa said, looking at Coryn with a raised eyebrow. The enchantress nodded, and the priestess continued. “Did you drink something called a Red Lotus?”

  “Yes,” Selinda replied. “That’s how he knocked me out.”

  “There is some danger in that drink. Hale was terrified when he learned you were pregnant.”

  “You mean—the drink would hurt the baby?” gasped Selinda. She dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, by Kiri! I didn’t want that! Not like this!”

  “I don’t think that’s the issue. I don’t think it would harm the baby. Hale did not strike me as the type to fear someone else’s troubles, and yet he was unquestionably afraid when he learned that you were carrying a child. No, I am worried that it is something even more mysterious. The child might be a danger to others—maybe everyone—or maybe those like Hale, who do wrong. There’s no way to know exactly what the danger is.”

  “He wouldn’t say why? Did you ask him?”

  “He died before he could tell us,” Coryn said. “I feel certain he was assassinated to keep him from telling any more.”

  “I—I don’t care,” Selinda said bravely. “I am going to bring this child into the world and see that he—or she—is raised to know righteousness.”

  “What about Jaymes?” asked Coryn. “Do you intend to keep all this a secret from him?”

  Selinda lifted her head. She felt her strength flowing back, though whether it was just from the tea or from something else, she didn’t know. Pushing herself to her feet, she found she could stand on her own. It gave her great pleasure to walk to her windows, to throw them open, and to admit the pleasant summer air. Finally, she turned around.

  “I will tell him everything … when this crisis is over. I will not burden him with my problems while he wages war to save the nation that we all want to survive.” Her expression hardened. “I know now that he must have deceived me to make me his wife.”

  Coryn looked away, almost as if she were ashamed, a reaction that surprised Selinda. But the princess continued to explain.

  “And he used me to legitimize his ascension to emperor. I was the Princess of Palanthas after all, and the gods only knew how many prophecies there were proclaiming that the man who married the princess would be the one to unite the cities of Solamnia into a nation again. He used that—and me—to elevate himself, to make himself the leader of a new empire.

  “At first, it was a dizzy game to me, and by the time I started to wonder how or why it was happening, it was too late. And even now, I can see that Jaymes has been good for Solamnia, even if he was not good for me.”

  Selinda turned and regarded both of her friends, gratitude shining in the emotion of her eyes. “I thank you both sincerely for saving my life. I was a fool—an utter fool—driven by despair. But no longer.”

  Coryn was still looking away, so it was Melissa who spoke.

>   “No longer a fool, or no longer in despair?” asked the priestess pointedly.

  “No longer either, I trust,” the emperor’s wife said. “I thought I was reclaiming my life when I broke free from my prison, but just being free isn’t enough.”

  Her hand moved to her belly, which she stroked gently. “Jaymes has another campaign to wage—and he is the best hope we have of holding this country together and moving into the future. I don’t love him—you both know that—but I have a duty to this realm. Whether it is because of who I am by birth or who I married, I do have a role to play. I am more than a woman, a daughter, a wife. I am a symbol of Solamnia. However, I will not be his wife anymore—not even in the privacy of our lives. He must know this truth.”

  She drew a breath.

  “But neither will I betray him,” she said.

  Jaymes made his way to the main gate of the city, where the Dark Knights had tried to force their way in. He found the place garrisoned by a mixed force of city guards and Solamnic Knights. They were commanded by an impressive-looking Knight of the Rose named Sir Ballard.

  “They attacked here, from the mountain road?” Jaymes asked.

  “Yes, my lord. A brigade came down, reportedly from the High Clerist’s Tower. It is said to be in rebel hands, sir.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard that too. I’ll be checking on it very shortly. What happened to the brigade?”

  “Their leader was killed on this very platform. The rest of the Dark Knights retreated back up the road when they couldn’t gain entrance to the city,” Ballard reported, eyeing the emperor warily. “They almost forced the gate here. One man stopped them—the same man who killed their captain.”

  “Who’s that?” asked Jaymes.

  “It was me, Excellency,” said Blayne Kerrigan, coming forward into the light. Jaymes immediately recognized the young lord. “I closed the portcullis when I realized the men were Dark Knights. But not before a number of good men, loyal knights, were killed by black magic and treachery.”

  “You saved the city of Palanthas from the Dark Knights?” The emperor surprised everyone by throwing back his head and laughing heartily. “But you’re an outlaw!” he declared. “There’s a price on your head!”

  “So I have heard. If that be the case, then I submit myself to your justice,” Blayne said stiffly. “To do with as you see fit.”

  “As well you may! But I see fit to pardon you, young outlaw. As a matter of fact, I myself have spent more than a few years with a price on my head. It’s good to have it lifted, is it not?”

  Blayne allowed himself to smile for the first time, it seemed, in many weeks. “Yes, Excellency,” he agreed. “Yes it is.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  PATHS TO VENGEANCE

  Jaymes went to see Selinda in her rooms. There were several large trunks standing open, partially filled with clothes, while a pair of maids were busy gathering dresses from the wardrobes and carefully packing them away. When the emperor entered, the maids scurried out, leaving him alone with his wife.

  “I’m leaving for the High Clerist’s Tower,” he said. “Coryn just returned with confirmation: not only did the Nightmaster and your father go there, but so did Ankhar—and a large number of his ogres. I’m going to end this once and for all.”

  “They can’t be allowed to stay there, I know,” Selinda replied. “I only pray this battle brings the war—all the wars—to an end.”

  He nodded with real sincerity. “I do too. It’s been too long, too much fighting. I want to rule an empire at peace.” Jaymes cleared his throat, looking at his wife awkwardly. “I will try to protect your father, if I can.”

  “Do what you must,” she said curtly. “I now understand what I was to him, and that knowledge has hardened my heart.” She looked more puzzled than angry. “He served the Prince of Lies! All of it, his whole life, was a lie! I’m glad to be free of him.”

  The emperor looked around, as if noticing the trunks, the empty wardrobes, for the first time. “I’ll be back when this is over. It may take some time, a month or two, but I will come home before winter to this place … I hope I can come home to you, as well.”

  Selinda sighed, going over to the window and looking out over the city’s central plaza. People were walking back and forth on the great square. A pair of musicians played a lute and pipe, trying to collect tips. The temples were busy, worshipers coming and going. The little stalls of the farmers’ market were doing brisk business. It was a hot summer day, and children splashed in several of the great fountains around the square, while a few men-at-arms of the city guard ambled around, amiably watching the activities of the citizenry. She took it all in for a moment then turned back to her husband.

  “This city is a good place to live in again. And so much of that is due to you. You have made mistakes—some of which are hard to forgive—but you have learned from those mistakes and grown stronger, greater.”

  “Won’t you let me come back to you? Let me prove to you how I have changed?”

  She shook her head. “No. I cannot.”

  He gestured to the trunks. “But where will you go?” he asked.

  “I’m going to the Temple of Kiri-Jolith. There is plenty of room for me there, and I will be with Melissa. I have to do a lot of thinking, and talking to her helps me clear my mind.”

  The emperor winced almost as though he were in pain. When he spoke, his tone, his words, were uncharacteristically hesitant. “If … after that … after I come back … perhaps we could try again. I would like to have you at my side.”

  Selinda raised her head. The sunlight coming through the windows outlined her golden hair, rendering a shimmering corona around her scalp. “I will have our baby,” she said, touching the subtle mound of her belly. “And you will have this child, as well.”

  Her voice hardened. “But you will never again have me. I know my destiny, and it is not to be merely a woman of the city. My fate is tied into the fate of the nation, and yours is to forge this nation, and the others of Solamnia, into an empire. I accept that destiny and will do what I can to help you hold this empire together.

  “But I will not live in your house … or share your bed.”

  He nodded slowly, hiding his emotions well—except for a slight narrowing of his eyes. But he made no argument. For a few moments, he stood still then slowly turned toward the door.

  “Good-bye,” he said quietly. “May all the gods watch over you.”

  “And good luck to you,” she answered. “I know you will have Coryn’s help, and Dram’s, and of course all your armies. But be careful.”

  “I will.” Still he hesitated.

  “I think she loves you. Did you know that?” Selinda almost whispered the words.

  He looked at her, puzzled, not knowing how to respond.

  “Coryn. I think she’s been in love with you for years. Just … watch over her, too, will you?”

  He nodded, finally opening the door. “I will do that,” he said and slowly walked away.

  The High Lookout on the High Clerist’s Tower was host to a meeting of a number of eminent figures, a weighty enough gathering to justify the name of the platform not just in altitude, but in soaring rank. Ankhar the Truth was there, as was the Thorn Knight Hoarst. The former lord regent of Palanthas, Bakkard du Chagne, and the black-masked Nightmaster of Hiddukel, who had brought du Chagne there from the city, were also present.

  The ogress Pond-Lily was also up on the parapet—she never strayed far from Ankhar, fearing she would get lost in the labyrinthine corridors of the great fortress—but she hung back near the door to the tower and looked fearfully at the four stern males, who paced and cursed as they argued among themselves.

  The lookout was a ring-shaped space. Rising from the center of the platform was the narrow spire that supported the highest perch, called the Nest of the Kingfisher. There was one door leading from the lookout to the interior of the tower, which was merely a landing for the narrow flight of stairs spiraling up
to the Kingfisher’s platform, and a much wider set of steps curling downward to the many rooms, apartments, and other rooms of the interior.

  The fortress sprawling hundreds of feet below the lookout was well-patrolled. Dark Knights were visible from above, posted on the parapets of the curtain wall and the gatehouses. Ogres lolled in the courtyards. To the northeast, on the tenuous road that Blackgaard’s men had carved, a procession of soldiers bore heavy packs laden with grain and fruit from the farms in the secret valley.

  “Why we hide here?” demanded Ankhar, his ham-sized hands on his hips as he glared accusingly at the others. “Inside walls? This is not how ogres fight! This is not how I fight.”

  “These walls are all that is going to keep you alive,” Hoarst replied pointedly. “And the spell that brought you here saved your life, you might recall. The town of dwarves didn’t give you any walls, and your ogres were dying by the score!”

  “Bah!” The half-giant didn’t want to hear it. But neither could he come up with a witty riposte, probably because the wizard spoke the truth. The defeat at New Compound still confounded, dismayed, and enraged the half-giant. How could it have gone so wrong when everything had started out so right? His brilliant battle plan—wasted! He growled deep in his chest, smashing his fist down onto the rampart, which knocked a piece of stone loose and bruised his flesh. He watched sullenly as the chip of stone tumbled down for a long time, finally shattering in the courtyard next to a very startled ogre.

  “Look,” the Thorn Knight said, striving for a reasonable tone. “We have a very strong position here. A thousand Dark Knights and a thousand ogres can hold this place for a very long time—perhaps forever. Nothing can move across the pass, and so we have cut Solamnia in two. Here, too, we control access to the secret valley to the north; the farms and herds there will give us all the food we need to stay holed up here for years if need be.”

  “For years! But what will happen when the emperor brings his army up from the plains!” du Chagne declared harshly.