123. ARTHAN
Eglamour Palace, Toulon Ministry
Midsummer, 3034
Arthan found Waldemar, Chaultion, Hamelin, and Patriarch Bavernon waiting for him in the great hall. The throne was empty, save for a symbolic black silk draped across it. Arthan was flanked by Serdot and Livonier.
“Your holiness,” Waldemar began, “may I present Lord Arthan Valient of Delavon and Wallevet, Lord Protector of the Realm and Marshal of Inquiry.”
Arthan bowed and kissed the wist ring of the Patriarch. “Your holiness, it is my honor…” Then he stepped back and looked upon the ancient face of Bavernon.
Heavy wrinkles creased with worry on his hairless brow, and his eyes were foggy. Arthan had met him only once, as a boy, and this was how he remembered him. The man seemed perpetually old yet undying. And yet he still functioned as the Patriarch of the Messengian Church of Donovan, the personal representative of the Martinus himself.
“That so many burdensome titles have been thrust upon your shoulders is a sign of these dire times,” Bavernon said slowly.
Arthan was uncertain how to respond so he kept silent. He noticed Chaultion’s white mustache twitch.
“And a sign of the stamina of the Valients,” Waldemar added.
“So many have fallen,” Bavernon said. “We wanted to discuss with you the potential for—”
“My lords!”
Everyone turned toward the opening great doors of the hall. Sir Debanor ran across the empty hall toward them, an opened message in his hand.
“I apologize, your holiness,” Waldemar said to the Patriarch. “I told the guards this was to be a private meeting.”
“Forgive me, my lords. And forgive me, Lord Valient, for opening it. I had to know if I needed to interrupt, given the letter you had just received from Rowan. This one must have been written on the same day.”
Arthan took the letter and read. “I’m sorry. It seems…” Arthan tore his eyes from the letter and looked at them. “Ambardil has fallen. My brother has been taken captive by the Rugens, and…Lord Asteroth is dead.”
“God in Heaven…” murmured Waldemar.
“May God rest him,” Bavernon said. “Now Lord Earth is the last of his house.”
“Damn the Rugens,” Chaultion said.
“The letter was delivered by a low vassal of Asteroth, Baron Mierbiot,” Debanor continued. “He relays his regrets for your brother, whom he knows well.”
“I will speak with Mierbiot later,” Arthan said. “Thank you. You are dismissed.”
Debanor departed, and the group stood in silence for a moment.
“This changes things,” Bavernon said. “We cannot wait for the Lord Ministers’ Council to convene. Lord Erath must be escorted to Eglamour at once to take his crown.”
“I will fetch him,” Chaultion said.
“Then who will lead the defense of Toulon?” Waldemar said. “There is nothing to stop the Rugens from pressing north now.”
“Send me,” Arthan said. “The general is the most capable in preparing Toulon.”
“I oppose that idea,” Bavernon said. “Chaultion should escort Erath.”
“The general is responsible for Toulon,” Waldemar said.
The Patriarch shook his head. “Erath is the last of the Avaleaus, and the Rugens are pressing him as well. We cannot risk sending Arthan. If we lost Erath and Arthan…Well, we’ve already discussed it.”
“Discussed what?” Chaultion said.
“The Church will support Arthan as regent if Erath is killed,” Bavernon said.
Chaultion’s face twisted in disgust. “Him?”
“Me, your holiness? What have I—?”
“Tentatively,” Bavernon said, holding up a gnarled hand. “As Maillard’s son, Erech’s marshal, and Brugarn’s Lord Protector, you are already like a steward of Donovan. The Church will support you as regent until the Lord Ministers’ Council can convene. That is, if Erath is lost.”
“That is not what Duke Brugarn intended,” Chaultion said.
“Brugarn was not the king,” Waldemar said, turning to Arthan. “If you go to Erath, you’ll be placing yourself in great danger. We cannot afford to lose you and Erath while the Rugens are on our doorstep.”
“And with the assassins still at large,” Serdot added.
“I insist,” Arthan said. “As Lord Protector, it is my responsibility. I have my knights, led by Sir Livonier here, and I will take Sir Hamelin and his Crownblades to Erath. I will bring our new king back to Eglamour.” Arthan turned to Chaultion. “I’m confident the general will better prepare Toulon than I would. Upon my return, we’ll all join together to push the Rugens out.”
Waldemar and the Patriarch exchanged looks. Bavernon gave a reluctant little nod. Waldemar looked at Chaultion. “General?”
“May God protect his journey,” Chaultion said.
Arthan knew the general was happy to be rid of him for a while, perhaps pleased with the prospect of he and Erath dying. There would be no serious obstacles to seizing the crown himself, should he wish it. But Arthan wagered that as long as Erath was alive, Chaultion would not crown himself. He also knew this task was for him.
“Very well, Lord Valient,” Waldemar said. “But if while on the road you receive word of Erath’s death, return at once.”
“I will bring Erath back,” Arthan said, then turned to Hamelin, Livonier, and Serdot. “Prepare the knights at once.”
124. FETZER
Borel District of Eglamour, Toulon Ministry
Midsummer, 3034
Fetzer dipped the quill hastily, dappling ink on the page. He needed to finish this part because he was determined to move forward with his plan.
The rioters were foolish to have tried to face the army in the capital, even in Borel. Not only did they not get beyond the district, they invited the army to crush them. They’ve learned nothing from Mordmerg. The Blackhoods in particular should have known better.
Since Marlan and the others departed for Thorendor, I’ve wandered Borel and much of the capital, learning its rhythms and watching the rioters. I keep this journal at the safe house, which I doubt will be discovered by the authorities. They are too preoccupied with the downfall of the Avaleaus. But I cannot sit idle, as a great opportunity has arrived. I met a rebel captain named Cid who agreed to introduce me to a Blackhood leader named Lunfrid.
People say that Duke Brugarn succumbed to his wounds and that Arthan is Lord Protector. I can’t help but wonder where the rulers of the kingdom would be if we had killed Arthan back when we had the chance. I want to convince Lunfrid and his Blackhoods to attack Arthan’s estate at Clonmel. With his guards busy, I could sneak inside and kill him once and for all…
---
Fetzer walked from the safe house to the Calza Aria inn at sundown, as prearranged with Cid. He was disappointed when he walked in and found Cid sitting alone at a corner table with several fresh mugs of beer.
“Where is he?” Fetzer asked without greeting Cid.
The short man took his time finishing a gulp. “Sit down and have a drink.”
“I’m not interested in wasting my time with anyone but your leader.”
“He’ll be here,” Cid said. “It’s you who better not waste Lunfrid’s time.”
Before Fetzer could insult Cid further, Lunfrid entered the tavern. He pushed back his black hood and approached the table.
“Lunfrid, this is the man I told you about,” Cid said. “His name is Fetzer.”
Lunfrid regarded Fetzer cautiously. “You’re a noble.”
“Are you the leader of these poorly planned riots?” Fetzer asked.
Lunfrid squinted at Fetzer before turning to Cid. “You brought a discourteous nobleman into our circle?”
“Both of you sit down, please,” Cid said. He gestured to the fresh mugs of beer. Fetzer and Lunfrid relented and joined him. Cid looked at Lunfrid. “I wouldn’t bring someone like thi
s to you if I didn’t think he was worth your time. I met Fetzer just before the big riot.”
“Just before the soldiers tore your band apart,” Fetzer said. “And Borel with it.”
Lunfrid glared at him. “Have you joined us, or are you all talk?”
“Of course not,” Fetzer said. “You won’t have anyone left if you keep your poor tactics up. Now, are you the top leader, or am I wasting my time?” Lunfrid’s eyes flared.
Cid held up his hands. “Just a damn smidge of patience. I’m taking a risk by letting you meet Lunfrid. He’s in charge of our group ever since Fosset died at the keep, and he helped lead the rebels at Mordmerg. He’ll decide if you can meet Navarron. Now, Lunfrid, I met Fetzer earlier, but he hasn’t joined us yet. He’s offered to help us, however, if we help him.”
“Who are you and why do we need your help?” Lunfrid asked Fetzer.
“He’s the burning man,” Cid said. “From the tower.”
“You?” Lunfrid mocked. “This little nobleman is the king killer, with his opulent sapphire wist ring and boyish face? He belongs in a posh court somewhere, not among my ranks.”
Fetzer looked at Lunfrid’s muscular neck, choosing the place where his fist could neatly impact the artery and stun him long enough for Fetzer to open his throat with the nearby table knife. Lunfrid noticed Fetzer’s calm, dangerous gaze and stopped talking.
“Tell him, Fetzer,” Cid said.
Fetzer regarded them both. If his plan did not work, if they did not accept what he proposed, he would kill them both. “I’ve gone this far, so I’ll give you one more chance,” he said. He pulled his tunic open, exposing the breastplate of the lamp armor underneath. Lunfrid studied the veined etchings. Fetzer knew he would not understand what he was seeing, and he was not going to explain it. The sight of the unusual armor should be enough.
“Are you with the Rugens?” Lunfrid asked.
“I’m with myself,” Fetzer said. “And you’re going to help me.”
“Why should we?”
“Because I can teach you how to overthrow kings properly.”
“You killed all the ministers and the royals yourself?”
Fetzer nodded.
“But they caught one of them,” Lunfrid said. “The one who tried to kill Duke Brugarn at court. Garion was his name. And they beheaded Reimvick and arrested the Rugen ambassador.”
“I’m the one that’s left,” Fetzer said. He reveled in the lie, not bothering to hide his smile.
“Now,” Cid said, “Fetzer wants our help with his scheme. In return, he’ll help train and lead our rebels.”
“But I want to meet Navarron,” Fetzer said.
“What scheme?” Lunfrid asked.
“Your next riot will be at Arthan’s Clonmel Estate,” Fetzer said. “You’ll serve as a distraction to keep his guards busy, so I can kill him.”
“You killed the king and fought your way through all the Crownblades, but now you need us?” Lunfrid asked. “Cid, this smells to me…”
“Arthan has survived two of my attempts on his life,” Fetzer said. “Most embarrassing, so I prefer that my third attempt succeeds. I’ve heard that he is Lord Protector now, and thus the best-guarded man in the kingdom.”
“Then perhaps you’ve also heard that Arthan is no longer in the capital,” Lunfrid said.
Fetzer set his jaw and squinted.
“He departed yesterday,” Lunfrid continued. “Word is that he’s gone to retrieve Lord Erath from Gadolin, to bring him back as the new king. The Rugens slew Asteroth.”
Fetzer stood abruptly, knocking his untouched beer onto the floor. He bumped into another man.
“Watch yourself,” said the man, looking down at his beer-splashed boots. “Now you’ll have to buy me—”
Fetzer grabbed the man by the lapels and raised a fist to strike him.
“Fetzer!” Cid yelled. “Let go of him. Ricot! Where have you been?”
“This is Ricot?” Lunfrid asked. “The one who helped us at the alderman’s keep?”
Fetzer shoved Ricot out of his way before he could answer.
“Fetzer, wait,” Cid said. “We want to make a deal.”
Fetzer was already plotting his route to Gadolin. Arthan would likely avoid the Rugen-infested roads through Alpenon. And traveling east to Wallevet, then south into Gadolin would take too long. The remaining option was the road around the black forest of Onderhem, through the Eldinbane Moors, and eventually to Rethsrond.
And even if Arthan trimmed down his guards for quicker travel, he would still be slower than Fetzer. Fetzer was certain he could reach Arthan before he reached Rethsrond, maybe sooner. He realized he was surpassing his boast to Marlan about continuing to target the Avaleaus. He could kill Arthan and Erath. Deprived of lord protector and future king, Donovan would fall apart, freeing Candlestone for the next task: Emperor Theudamer. Fetzer simply had to find the right place on the road and wait for Arthan to return with Erath, instead of beating Arthan to Erath.
“Fetzer!” Cid shouted, shattering his thoughts as he neared the door. “Did you hear what I said?”
Fetzer turned and walked back to the table where Ricot had taken his seat beside Lunfrid. “I must go. If you value your lives, you’ll not speak of me. When I return, we will accomplish more than you’ve dreamed.”
125. MARLAN
Thorendor Castle, Wallevet Ministry
Luminebb, 3034
“I’m sorry, Marlan,” Arasemis said. “I had a good reason to leave in the manner that I did.”
“May I hear it?” Marlan said. “Because Fetzer thinks you abandoned us. That’s why he stayed in Eglamour.”
“Come and sit,” Arasemis said, gesturing to a chair near his book-strewn table. “You are tired from the journey. Juhl and Rodel are well?”
“Juhl’s injuries are healing, but she needs rest. Rodel is tending to her. Please don’t think them rude for not coming with me. They went straight to their quarters.”
“It’s quite all right,” Arasemis said. “The night is for sleep—except for me.” Arasemis smiled warmly.
“I wouldn’t be able to sleep without talking with you,” Marlan said. “We completed the task well, but when we returned to Borel you were gone. No warning, no message, no Nidlade.”
“I hope Fetzer hasn’t whispered in your ear too much. As I said, I had good reason for leaving. That reason may make little sense to you at first, and it certainly won’t placate Fetzer, but listen to what I have to say.”
Marlan nodded.
“You and Garion were not exactly my first students. The first to be well trained and focused, to be sure. But there was another, a young Austveede noblewoman named Anureen.”
“I remember her from the academy…She was your student?”
“For a short time. She had been admitted to the academy as a ward to Count Atilon. Part of the count’s effort to expand his merchants’ trade with Austveeden. She showed the right interests and potential, so I began to teach her about Candlestone. Unfortunately she was recalled to Austveeden after the death of her father. I never heard from her again, until a message arrived to me at the Borel safe house.”
“How did she find you in Borel?”
“She didn’t. Our loyal servant Yorand sent a messenger to Borel with the letter. After I read it, I knew I had to return to Thorendor as soon as possible. Anureen told me that she had found a way to assassinate the king of Austveeden, and asked for my guidance.”
“Wonderful!” Marlan said. “What did you tell her?”
“I was writing my reply when she suddenly arrived at Thorendor. Luckily her access to the Austveede king is not fleeting. We have time to plan it right.”
“She is here?”
Arasemis nodded. “Already asleep. You will meet her tomorrow, and we’ll integrate her plans into ours. This is the best of Candlestone. Our common passion never dies.”
Marlan tamped his excitement. �
�But you could have left us a message, Master. Or one with Nidlade. What happened to him?”
“You’ll remember my bitter cough,” Arasemis said. “Despite my condition, I knew I needed to harness Anureen before she tried to do things by herself, since she lacks the benefit of your training. So I took Nidlade with me on the road. Since Nidlade is blind, we hired a wagoner, and Nidlade administered my medicines.
“As for not leaving a message for you, I feared exposing all of us if the authorities discovered the safe house. I’m sorry, Marlan, but you must understand. I’m extremely proud of our accomplishments. Departing like that without talking with you was difficult, but in the best interests of Candlestone.”
Marlan nodded. “I understand. Were you in the capital long enough to hear about Edmond?”
“Yes, and I expected execution to be my brother’s end, as did he. His position in the palace as our supporter was obviously risky, a secret I had to keep close. I wish he had come around to Candlestone sooner than he did. But at least he wasn’t as feckless as Raymond.”
“As master, we remain loyal to you,” Marlan said. “But the others will appreciate knowing about Anureen and what you had to do. And about your brother’s sacrifice. Fetzer will…he will be himself. I don’t know…”
“We’ll have time to discuss him. Get some sleep. Nidlade and Anureen will join our Order tomorrow.”
---
Marlan, Rodel, and Juhl listened as Nidlade and Anureen take the oath. Then Arasemis stood from the table and spoke.
“Nidlade, as your reward for your assistance to my brother Edmond and in the service of our ultimate task, you will be given the fury armor mechan, first created for the ancient Bronhildi, Kemet, who was also blind. And for you, Anureen, as a reward for your loyalty to our cause despite having been so far away, you will be given the ship armor, first worn by a Rahlampian chieftain.”
Marlan watched and listened to their thanks while thinking about the rate of loss within Candlestone. Garion, Morroy, Bertwil, and Edmond. Maybe Fetzer, too, if he grew too reckless and impatient. Marlan was glad Arasemis was keen to recruit new members. They would be critical if Candlestone was to tackle more kings and emperors.
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