Theudamer mounted his warhorse, towering over his attendants as the ballistae and trebuchets began to pelt the castle walls again. Graf mounted, and they rode to the front of the waiting cavalry. The emperor looked up and down the lines as the fighting at the gate grew louder. The Rugen banners, bearing the four gold crowns and black wolf head on a field of deep blue, fluttered in the breeze.
“The Donovards were not prepared for our swift march from Torgsbad,” Graf continued. “That, or Asteroth is hoarding his better knights at Cantrileme.”
“Where are Ardis Vilarwef and her rebels?”
“In the forest beyond Nairnbern, ready to intercept any that try to flee, as you ordered.”
Theudamer drew his great sword. “Sound the charge!”
The trumpets blew as the cavalry moved forward with Theudamer in front. He kept his eyes on the inner gatehouse, its tower partially destroyed by his catapults. As he rode he saw the assaulters rally and push into the outer courtyard. A few moments later the emperor and his cavalry channeled into the gateway under a hail of arrows from the archers on the wall.
He did not slow down, yet some of his knights surged ahead of him. They burst into the courtyard, close behind the initial assaulters. Theudamer could see the panic on the faces of every Donovard inside. The cavalry kept its momentum despite the spear-spiked barricades and lines of crossbowmen.
Theudamer followed his knights as they jumped a barricade, punched a hole in the defenses, and rushed into the stunned defenders. He swept through the Donovards, hacking down on them and deflecting their spears with his long shield.
“Your Majesty!” Graf shouted, blood splattered on half his face. “The enemy cavalry!” He pointed his sword toward the far side of the long courtyard. The Donovards had already begun their surprise charge.
Theudamer held his sword aloft. “To me!” he shouted to his knights.
They regrouped and charged forward. Spears, swords, and shields splintered. The leader of the Donovards was unhorsed and killed. The Rugen soldiers who continued to pour into the courtyard soon swept over the rest.
When the battle around him subsided, Theudamer turned to Graf. “Order the riders down every alley. Eliminate everyone. Requisition supplies and post a small garrison. We will march to Cantrileme at once.”
“Perhaps tomorrow, Your Majesty? The men could use a rest and time to secure the—”
“If you insist on having me repeat myself, I’ll strip you of your general’s cloak myself.”
“Prepare to march!”
100. FETZER
Borel District of Eglamour, Toulon Ministry
Midsummer, 3034
“I didn’t plan it this way,” Arasemis said, “but this will have to do.”
Fetzer noticed his voice was hoarser than yesterday.
“What happened to our palace supporter?” Marlan asked.
“We don’t know,” Arasemis said between coughs. He dabbed his lips with a handkerchief. “I know him like a brother. He would not abandon us. Something must have happened to him, so we’ll not use our plan to smuggle into the palace as wine merchants.”
“But how will we get our mechans inside?” Juhl asked.
“We can still use the barrels…” Arasemis paused to hack into his handkerchief.
Fetzer watched him closely, hoping he would fall over dead or announce he would not go with them to the palace. Fetzer had thought of a way to lay his hands on the lamp armor, but it would be easier if Arasemis did not join them.
“As I was saying…we can still use the barrels. Instead of smuggling them in ourselves with help from our supporter, we’ll simply pay someone else to do it.”
“And risk them finding the mechans?” Marlan said.
“Not worth it,” Rodel said.
“I agree,” Juhl said.
“The right merchant can be paid enough not to peek,” Arasemis said, “and position the barrels right where we need them to be.”
“Can’t we just go over the walls with our mechans on, like we did for the Henrey task?” Juhl asked.
“Unlike how it was with Henrey,” Arasemis said, “the palace guards are now on alert. And if something happened to our supporter, they may expect us to come over the walls. Since I never received the supporter’s final instructions, we’ll need time to scout around to locate the chambers used by the royal family. The king’s tower is the only certain place. So we need a quiet entry and time inside.”
“Perhaps only one of us should scout the interior, then report back,” Marlan said.
Arasemis shook his head as he coughed. “I’ve made the decision. I will have Nidlade recommend a merchant who will not ask questions and who can get into the palace. Today or tonight, if possible. Make sure your barrels are ready.”
“Who is Nidlade?” Marlan asked.
“The blind one. He is not yet a member of our Order but should be. He has assisted Candlestone and various other causes against the crown since he was a boy.”
When Arasemis paused to cough, Fetzer caught a glimpse of red on his handkerchief.
“When Nidlade has found someone suitable,” Arasemis continued, “Fetzer will lead everyone since he has done most of the scouting to the palace.”
“You won’t be coming?” Rodel asked.
“My illness…At least I was able to watch Henrey’s assassination. This time I would only be a burden. I very much wished to use my lamp armor for this grand event, but I’ll have to wait.”
---
All this waiting gave me time to finalize a plan to acquire the lamp armor. The old fool hasn’t bothered to check his barrel since the Henrey task. I’ve switched his lid for mine. Since he’s not going to the palace, he won’t know until it’s too late. Then I’ll wear it like a second skin for the rest of my days…
101. ARTHAN
Clonmel Estate in Eglamour, Toulon Ministry
Midsummer, 3034
“Hamelin and Tronchet are taking appropriate action,” Serdot said. “The royal family has been informed, and Brugarn wants Reimvick’s head. I assured him we would turn him over to Tronchet once we learn as much as we can from him. Brugarn insisted on telling Erech about the threat himself.”
Arthan took note of Serdot’s face as he listened. For once the alert widsemer looked tired. Arthan knew he had been up all night with Reimvick.
“You interrogated him yourself?” Arthan asked.
“I had one of Tronchet’s jailors assist.”
“Did Reimvick say anything useful?”
“A few things,” Serdot said. “He agreed to tell you directly, and claims he’ll tell you more. But so far we have nothing to help us pinpoint where Arasemis is.”
“Tronchet said he was going to send his men into the slums of Borel now that the rioting has all but ceased. They’re probably sweeping through it now.”
Serdot sat down and called to the guards, “Bring the prisoner up.”
“He’s still a lord,” Arthan said, but he was unsure why. Perhaps it was because he knew his father had always respected the enemy. He took a deep breath as they brought Reimvick into the room. His eyes were tired and sunken, his hair disheveled. His face was puffy but otherwise unmarked. He smelled of sweat and vomit.
“Get him some water,” Arthan said, trying to casually sort the documents on his table. The cup of water came and Reimvick drank, his eyes shifting silently between the stack of correspondence and Arthan.
“As you can see, we found your stash of letters under the floor of your quarters,” Arthan said. “Is there anything you wish to say before we begin?”
“Only that…you are a coward.”
“Serdot said you were willing to tell me something.”
“Shall I repeat it?” Reimvick asked.
“Were I a coward, I wouldn’t have accepted this post. And you’re the one who paid someone to murder your own brother.”
“I did no such thing.”
; “And my father,” Arthan said. “And Gottfried and Bardil and Henrey and many more.”
Reimvick looked past Arthan, staring at the wall behind him.
“All right, I’ll start. What about this letter?” Arthan held it up for him to see. “Addressed to ‘E,’ it says Arasemis and his followers are leaving Thorendor for Eglamour…thanks to ‘E’ for arranging everything in Borel…thanks for sending preliminary instructions.”
Reimvick stayed locked in his stare.
“Or this one,” Arthan continued, “written in your hand. Let’s see…You’re unable to meet them in Borel…Unkind things about me and my ‘pesky widsemer’…Then you give the locations and movements of the royal family. Thank you, by the way, for not mentioning Clonmel…Ah, here it is. You wrote that you looked forward to hearing about the next phase of Arasemis’s plans, and you hoped that your assistance proved your loyalty to the cause. You go on to disparage your deceased brother and father. Shall I read the whole thing to jog your memory?”
Reimvick’s sullen eyes shifted to Arthan’s, but he kept silent.
“Pity you didn’t have a chance to send that letter to Arasemis,” Arthan continued. “Perhaps it’s too late anyhow, seeing as the king’s men are already sweeping through Borel. Why did you keep all of this damning correspondence, anyway? A proper conspirator would have burned them after reading.”
Reimvick could not hold back a guttural, chilling chuckle. “When the new history of the world is written, it will draw on the pivotal events preserved in my letters.”
“That won’t be happening, but we will certainly draw on them for your trial,” Arthan said. “And the trial of Arasemis and his adherents. Who are they?”
Reimvick smirked. “They are the end of you, all of this.”
“Let’s start with Marlan, then,” Arthan said, picking up Marlan’s mask from his desk. “We found this after Marlan killed my father. It matches Garion’s, so we know Marlan is with you and Arasemis. Did Arasemis send Marlan to work with Blackhood thugs in Mordmerg? Or did you?”
Reimvick shook his head. “You cannot stop them.”
“We will. Tronchet is reconquering Borel as we speak.”
“Tronchet.” Reimvick snickered again. “I thought you were more intelligent, young Arthan. Not the quality of your father, but not a fool. No one can stop what we’ve revived. Our Order has survived nearly a thousand years of war, vile kings and emperors, earth-ripping storms and famines…”
“Order? You mean this Candlestone. What is it exactly?”
“As I told Serdot, Candlestone is the new light shining across the world. A hard, piercing light for those who would veil it. Change is afoot.”
“How much are the Rugens paying you?”
Reimvick laughed aloud. “You think the Rugens are capable of this? Perhaps you are a fool! Even if they were so capable, you should welcome it. Do you really think Erech and the House of Avaleau is worth saving? Do you look at men like Brugarn as worthy of protecting?”
“Not all the Avaleaus are like them,” Arthan said. “Duke Henrey was a good man. Are Erech’s young daughters so vile as to justify your treachery?”
Reimvick shrugged. “Sacrifices must be made when change of this magnitude is required.”
“And what change is that? Did you intend to crown yourself, or put Arasemis on the throne?”
Reimvick shook his head slowly and gave Arthan a look of pity. “This is not about who gets a throne. It’s about denying thrones to all.”
“Go on.”
Reimvick held up his hands. “You are like them, incapable of comprehending this revolution.”
“We can help you find a clear way to speak,” Serdot interrupted.
“Take me back to your jailor, young widsemer. You’ll get no more from me, however much you pinch, twist, stretch, or brand my flesh. And I’ll not seek Garion’s window. I live only to hear of the success of Arasemis. I will wait for it, come what may, then release my soul in peaceful satisfaction.”
“That’s not what I want for you,” Arthan said. “If Arasemis is so unstoppable, then you should be confident enough to talk about his plans.”
“All of you will drown in the waves that will surge out from Eglamour in every direction. Donovan will never rise as a kingdom again. And it will only be the beginning.”
Arthan slammed his fist on the table, letting his frustration spill out. “Where is Arasemis?”
Reimvick smiled. “He is here, as you well know.”
“The arcanae relics mentioned in Arasemis’s letter,” Serdot said. “What did he find?”
“Anyone’s guess, but I can’t wait to see what he does with them.”
Arthan and Serdot exchanged a frustrated glance, then Arthan stood and motioned for the guards to take Reimvick away. He noticed the lord minister’s gaze and followed it to the alchemical sword on his belt. “Do you like it?” Arthan asked. “Arasemis is afraid of it. In his letter he asked you about it.”
“If I were able to write him back, I would say he has no cause for worry. For the young, haughty nobleman wearing it knows nothing of its history or how to use it.”
“Arasemis’s adherents know better,” Arthan said with more confidence than he felt. “They tasted Adrithayn at Hullen. Now, you’ll remain in chains here until your trial at court. At any time, you can agree to tell us about Arasemis and his followers. If you do, I will petition the king to spare your life. Brugarn will likely preside over the trial, so you’ll need all the help you can get.”
The guards pulled Reimvick up from his chair as an out-of-breath palace soldier rushed into the room.
“Lord Minister! Marshal, sir!”
“Calm yourself,” Serdot said.
“Sir, the palace is under attack! Some evil—they came from nowhere, sir.”
“Who? Rugens, rioters, assassins?”
The soldier shook his head as he tried to regain his breath. “Many, few…Difficult to see, my lord. They used colored smoke, foul…Moved so fast…They say it’s like what happened to Lord Henrey.”
Reimvick chuckled happily as the guards pulled him out of the room. “The utter joys of alchemy!” he shouted. “The days of hiding chemina will be over as you struggle to keep up!”
Arthan rushed to the window and threw open the curtains and shutters. Smoke of various colors hung over the palace. Several black columns of smoke were also rising from inside the complex.
“Serdot, have Livonier make our men ready at once. All archers and mounted knights.”
102. MILISEND
Eglamour Palace, Toulon Ministry
Midsummer, 3034
“Again, I apologize for the inconvenience, but it’s for your own protection,” Tronchet said.
“You could have taken these precautions sooner,” Princess Avalane said with tears in her eyes. “Perhaps my Henrey would still be alive…”
Tronchet hung his head. “I’m sorry, Princess.”
“How many, then?” Milisend asked.
“Thirty extra soldiers for each princess, with your permission,” Tronchet replied. “They are now under Sir Hamelin’s command and are waiting in the corridor.”
“More of these men in my chambers?” Princess Brielle asked.
Tronchet nodded. “Women soldiers also.”
“For how long?” Milisend asked.
“Until the assassins are caught. Last night I told you about Lord Valient’s discovery of Lord Reimvick. We are getting closer to ending this, I assure you.”
“Have you gotten closer to freeing Regaume?”
“Mili,” Avalane said, “we are surrounded by war, death, and soldiers. And you still worry for the thief? Tronchet, how soon before they take him away to Ralmogard?”
The magistrate looked at Milisend, searching for a way to say it. “I’m afraid I’m the bearer of all the bad news…”
“How soon?” Milisend demanded.
“They are due this mor
ning, Princess. I’m sorry.”
Avalane turned to Milisend. “Then you can finally put him behind you.”
“How long since Henrey was butchered?” Milisend asked. “Have you put it behind you?”
Avalane put her hands over her face and cried.
“Henrey was her husband,” Brielle said with a scowl. “One day, when I’m old enough to wed, I hope you’ll not say such things to me, Mili.”
Milisend glared at Tronchet but could not find any words.
“If I have your permission, I will inform the soldiers,” he said. “Each of the ten is led by a Crownblade, of course. All of them are under your orders, but keep them nearby. Before I leave, there are a few other rules Duke Brugarn wanted me to relay about leaving the palace grounds.”
Milisend turned her back to him and walked to the window. She felt remorse for how she had spoken to Avalane. She had loved Henrey like a brother. The palace was quickly feeling like a prison, more than it ever had before. Everyone could see Brugarn’s paranoia. News of Reimvick’s arrest was already spreading.
Tronchet droned on. If he was not going to speak about Regaume’s release, she wanted him gone. She racked her brain for ideas but had tried everything she could think of. Except one…
She left the common room as her sisters continued listening to Tronchet. Rosellen followed her into her private chambers.
“What are you doing, Princess? Avalane will not be happy that you’ve walked away like that.”
“Please, Rosellen. The time has come for me to do this myself.”
“Do what yourself?”
Rosellen followed her into her wardrobe. Milisend unlocked the little drawer that held the black leathers, mask, and climbing slippers that Regaume had given her. She assembled her accessories, then began taking off her dress.
“It’s too dangerous in the daylight, Mili. We should have thought of this last night.”
“We didn’t know the Ralmogard magistrate’s men would be here in the morning, Rosellen.”
“What about the assassins? They could be anywhere. And with all the additional guards posted everywhere, it will be impossible for you to free Regaume. And the guards may mistake you for an assassin!”
Lords of Deception Page 43
