Void: Book Five of the Nightlord series

by Garon Whited

  “You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you get back to your rest. I have things to do, places to be, and people to kill.”

  “Of course. Of course.”

  I left him in his cell-suite. Outside, more knights were present, obviously to be my bodyguards and escorts. They made good guides, though. I wondered if they studied the layout of the Palace of Carillon or if they were posted there long enough to get the hang of the place. I decided not to ask.

  With the mountain being spread through the stone of the city and the palace, you’d think I could find my way around in any building it’s taken over. It doesn’t seem to work that way. I get turned around like a dervish. Maybe it’s because I slept in the original mountain for so long. Maybe it’s the concentration of power in the mountain. Maybe, if I took the trouble to link into the palace node in the network of stone, I could download the basic layout into my brain.

  Maybe some other year. Or not at all.

  I almost made it out of the palace when two messengers reached me at nearly the same time, sprinting to catch me before I vanished.

  “Your Majesty,” gasped the first, “the Queen bid me inform you she is ready to receive you at your convenience.”

  “I, too, have been bid to so inform you, but it is the lord Seldar who awaits your pleasure, Sire.”

  “Queens have precedence,” I decided. “Lead on. You, go inform Seldar I’ll be there as soon as my business with the Queen is concluded.” The second messenger saluted and sprinted away. The first one led us through the palace to the royal chambers. She chose to meet me in one of the smaller rooms, one with fancy window-doors leading onto a balcony. The chamber was actually part of a larger one, but a room-dividing curtain partitioned it from the main area, making it a cozy little spot to view the harbor.

  Lissette was either still up or had risen, dressed, and prepared. She was tired, but that’s normal, I suppose, for a monarch. Liam was with her, still rubbing his eyes and yawning. She gestured me to seat myself, nodded my escorts out, and poured herself a cup of tea.

  She sipped and regarded me over the rim of the cup.

  “A messenger found me,” I began. “You sent for me?”

  “Politely.”

  “And I always appreciate it. What can I do for you?”

  “I notice the Knights of Shadow are still keeping close to the temples.”

  “They are.”

  “What are you planning?”

  “For the worst.”

  “Oh?” she asked, eyebrow arching. “In what way?”

  “I’m assuming Her Majesty the Bright Queen will be prepared for terrible reversals in her campaign against the Church of Light. To that end, I feel certain she will refuse to bring the Knights of Shadow with her to the outer continent. They may act as peacekeepers within the realm while her armies are abroad, but, if fortune should hand her armies a defeat, I feel certain her wisdom will be appreciated by one and all when she summons them as a ready reserve force.

  “As for myself,” I continued, “I will be quite surprised at this, but will have no objection to her use of my own forces—a further sign of my absolute trust in the judgment and the authority of the Bright Queen of Karvalen.”

  Lissette sipped at her tea and moved to the window, looking out over the harbor. Lights on the masts gleamed like a forest of fireflies.

  “Will you always watch over the kingdom so?”

  “I don’t watch over the kingdom. The kingdom has you to watch over it, and it is damned lucky to have you.”

  “Then why are you doing this?” she asked, still facing the window.

  “Because you’re important to me.”

  Liam cleared his throat. I glanced at him.

  “You, less so. I like her better. But you show potential, if you can grow into it instead of being a brat.”

  “I am not a brat!”

  I sighed while Lissette shot a sharp glance at me.

  “Liam,” I told him, “anyone who makes a statement like that, particularly in your tone of voice, has already proven himself wrong. A general by the Queen’s grace you may be, a prince by an accident of birth, but a man?” I shook my head. “Go to bed. Your elders are talking.”

  “I—”

  I held up one finger. I didn’t even extend my fingernail, but he shut up. I pointed at the curtain and he left the room. The outer door didn’t slam, quite, but shut rather heavily.

  “You are hard on him,” Lissette observed.

  “You aren’t.”

  “He is a boy.”

  “He was a boy. Treat him like a boy and he will never become a man, much less a king.”

  “He’s sensitive.”

  “I’ve stayed out of the child-rearing business. It seems to go hand in hand with not being a target for assassins, kidnappers, and so forth. If I’m not here, if I’m not involved, then you and the kids aren’t put forward as potential leverage against me, which makes all your lives easier. That being said, I think Liam is a coddled, pampered, mildly-spoiled brat who needs his britches taken down and his backside swatted on a regular basis. In another time and place, I’d drag him out to the woods to help me chop down trees, build a cabin, and clear land for a farm. He’d appreciate the difference between a freeholder and a king.”

  “Is that really why you aren’t here?”

  “Are we discussing good parenting or my lack of it?”

  “Can’t we do both?”

  “Uh, I suppose. In answer to your question, yes. My being here is an invitation to anyone who wants to come after my blood. Grabbing—or threatening—you, Liam, or the other children is one way they can try to force me to do their will. I won’t have you under threat simply because I’m present. It’s better if everyone thinks of me as the mysterious monster the Queen can summon to save the kingdom. It adds to your power and influence.”

  Lissette occupied the padded chair Liam vacated. She sipped at her tea again, holding the cup in both hands.

  “I’ve never been… too clear on why, exactly…” she trailed off. “I thought you were done with the kingdom.”

  “I am. Mostly. It’s not my responsibility. It’s yours. But I’m still married to you, so I come when you call. I also sometimes look in on your kingdom because you never do call.”

  “I thought… I thought you were trying to hide from… from the people who want your blood.”

  “I am. The good news is those types don’t dare try to kill me outright. They need me alive to make sure they can extract what they need. A pile of ashes doesn’t bleed. They need to capture me, and that’s complicated when they don’t know where I am or what I’m doing.”

  “So, that’s why you aren’t in the palace?”

  “I don’t go anywhere on a regular schedule,” I clarified. “If they want to ambush me, they’ll have to set it up and keep it manned and ready for days, weeks, maybe years. An ambush doesn’t work like that. People notice, especially in secure areas like the palaces.”

  “I was afraid it might have something to do with Thomen.”

  “What about him?”

  Lissette gave me a sharp look.

  “You know what he did.”

  “Yes.”

  “You know about the children.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re… how do you feel about that?”

  “They are your children,” I shrugged. “Even Liam. I can’t claim any of them are mine, in the sense I had anything to do with raising them. Does it matter who fathered them? They are who they are, and one of them will rule. If you think one of them will do a better job than the firstborn, appoint that one the heir. Liam might be happier as a wizard, anyway—or a magician. I’m not sure he has the temperament to rule.”

  “You don’t care that your only son might not inherit the crown?”

  “Do you like being the Queen?”

  “No!”

  “There’s your answer.”

  Lissette stared at me with a dumbfounded expr
ession. I offered to pour more tea for her and she drank off the rest of her cup before handing it to me. I rose, poured, returned the cup to her and me to my seat.

  “Do you mean that?” she asked, finally.

  “I generally mean what I say. When I don’t, it’s usually fairly obvious from the truckload of sarcasm I pour on it.”

  “And when you lie?”

  “I do lie,” I admitted. “I try not to lie to anyone I care about.”

  “What about yourself?”

  “There’s a very short list of people I care about,” I pointed out.

  “Am I on it?” she asked. I felt my eyes widen.

  “I suppose I asked for that,” I sighed. “I don’t show I care. I’m bad at it. I don’t say it and I don’t act like it. I could blame my upbringing, but let’s be blunt: It’s the way I am, for whatever reasons.

  “The answer to your question is, yes, I do care. I remember crawling under the bed with you. I remember when you wanted to go fight in a battle. I remember everything between us. And I remember thinking I could love you.” I shrugged. “Things… got complicated after that. I’m sorry they did. I’m not sure if I could have stayed, but I would have liked to try. Now things are complicated in different ways, and the Demon King can hardly take up residence in the Palace of Carrillon again—not after what you’ve been through, certainly.”

  Lissette sipped her tea and wouldn’t look at me. Maybe she couldn’t look at me. My face is the face of the Demon King, after all. Intellectually, she knows the difference, but emotionally? I could still see her terror, deep down, and the iron strength of will that locked it away. There was something else, as well, a cloud of color around the whole complex of fear and determination.

  “Is that what you brought me up here to discuss?” I asked, when the silence grew too long.

  “No. I was concerned about your plans for the war. You wield a mighty force of men and magic. I would be a fool not to consider it in my strategy.”

  “Well, now you know.”

  “I do. It… it does please me to discover you are not as absent as I believed. You do watch over me—and the kingdom—in your own way.”

  “Yes, but only periodically,” I warned. “I’m not constantly watching. I just check in from time to time.”

  “I understand.” She sipped at her tea again. We waited together in the silence.

  “So,” I asked, when the fresh silence stretched too far, “when does the fleet leave?”

  “In the morning.”

  “Really! I hadn’t expected it so soon.”

  “Is this a problem?”

  “Not at all. I’m impressed at the efficiency and speed.”

  “Give your congratulations to Seldar.”

  “I will. He wants to see me, too.”

  “Ah. Then I shall hold you no longer.” She rose and I sprang to my feet. She didn’t resist when I took her hand and bowed over it, brushing the back of it lightly with my lips.

  “I am sorry we did not have a chance to… be other than we are,” I told her.

  “As am I,” she agreed, looking at our feet. “As am I.”

  I exited, stage left, and the curtain closed.

  The meeting with Seldar went far better, as far as I was concerned. All the emotional discussion of feelings makes me uncomfortable. Once the bodyguards were parked outside the door and my butt was parked in a chair, Seldar went straight to practical matters I could comprehend.

  “Have you given any thought to the matter of what to do about potential rebel princes?”

  I had to admit I had not. He poured himself a cup of wine and seated himself, leaning forward intently. I leaned forward to match him.

  “It seems to me,” he went on, “this expedition will deplete the martial forces of the kingdom—at least, those of the Crown. The levies upon the nobles will diminish their numbers, but I believe most of the men sent to the capitol are either the least fit or freshly conscripted. Keeping their most experienced men at home will make the lords think of old conquests and old insults, perhaps now to be regained or repaid.”

  “Hold on,” I argued, “isn’t the kingdom running well? I thought things were prosperous all around.”

  “They are. Most of the lords bow to the will of the Bright Queen, albeit with some grumbling. There are two I have no liking for nor trust in, with half a dozen minor lords who will take whatever liberties they feel they can.”

  “All right. Do they need warnings?”

  “Warnings?”

  “Hello, I’m the Demon King and I’m watching you. Don’t screw around.”

  “Warnings,” Seldar chuckled. “Yes, of course. Perhaps that will be sufficient.”

  “Show me where I need to make an impression. I’ll handle it while the fleet is in motion.”

  “Certainly.” Seldar shuffled out three large parchments, each with a crudely-drawn line map of the roads. The mapmaking art of Karvalen is still not up to my standards. Then again, I’m not much of a mapmaker, either. I don’t know if I’d do any better with a pen, some parchment, and a magic mirror. Maybe that’s why their mapmaking is so terrible. A wizard can jump into the mind of a bird to go look, or use a mirror to see for miles. Why bother to draw it?

  “No, let’s look at the one on the wall,” I suggested. Seldar and I regarded the magically-printed mural. He used the road maps to find the places of concern—Socara and Peleseyn—as well as a few smaller towns which lacked a deep and abiding respect for the Queen. I took a picture with my Diogephone and highlighted the locales. Seldar didn’t ask what I was doing, merely waited until I was done.

  “That concludes my concerns of state,” he finished. “If I may ask for a more personal moment?”

  “Anytime, Seldar. Didn’t I appoint you to send word when I was needed?”

  “You did, Frequently Appearing One.”

  “Okay. Personal stuff. But are you sure there’s nothing else on the national level? What about the fleet and the war?”

  “Her Majesty has already made her arrangements—good and adequate ones, I believe—in those matters.”

  “Fair enough. What’s on your personal mind?”

  “Are you aware that Carella and I are expecting a third child?”

  “No, I wasn’t. I’m aware now. Congratulations.”

  “I am pleased, indeed. My request, however presumptuous it may be, is this. It seemed inappropriate to request your presence for a personal blessing, given my former service as a priest of the Lord of Justice…”

  “Say no more. I’m here, and as long as I’m already here, you’d like me to bless your unborn child.”

  “If it is no trouble,” he added, hurriedly. “We can go to the Temple of Shadow again, if you wish.”

  “I won’t hear of it. In fact… hmm.” I looked up and away for moment, thinking. How hard would it be to arrange transportation to Apocalyptica? Diogenes can do the whole medical workup on Seldar, Carella, and the kid, do a little gene-sequencing to make sure there are no unpleasant surprises—hemophilia, bad eyesight, whatever—and my altar ego can smack down an industrial-strength declaration of “Thou Shalt Be Blessed.”

  Overkill? Maybe. But I like Seldar. I will go to great lengths for him.

  “Can I borrow you and Carella for a day or two?”

  “Borrow? Perhaps you have forgotten, Sire, in your various affairs, Imperious One, that you are the King of Karvalen, Your Majesty, and we are your humble subjects, Lord of the Realm.”

  “Your sarcasm is noted, oh-so-humble subject. Do you have duties to the Queen that conflict?”

  “Am I going with the fleet, you mean. No. Her Majesty is sending Torvil as the captain of Liam’s bodyguards and Kammen as the Queen’s Champion, but only my regular duties as Prime Minister and Castellan tie me here.”

  “Fair enough. How about I let you continue with your duties here while I undertake a full-scale, personal blessing of your children? Including the unborn one. I invite them—and Carella—to my private for
tress home for a day or two while I work my spells. While I do that, you keep the kingdom afloat.”

  “And give me a day or two to work without interruption or distraction? My King, I regret I am unable to accept more quickly and even more deeply regret we did not have this conversation two days ago.”

  “Busy time, setting up a fleet?”

  “You have no idea,” he grumbled.

  “Oh? What makes you think I don’t?”

  “You hate boats, Master of Sinking.”

  “Okay, fair point. When can they be ready?”

  “I must consult with Carella. Shall I wake her?”

  “I hate to, but maybe you should. Time hasn’t been known for its friendly, forgiving attitude.”

  “I shall return.” Seldar hurried from the room and I settled more comfortably in the chair. I liked Seldar’s guest chair. It was a block of wood carved into a comfortable seat. I had no doubt thousands of backsides helped to polish and shape it, just as a I had no doubt he intended the thing to be a solid, massive chunk of furniture fit for a king. A specific king.

  As I sat, I thought about several things. How to send a message to the lords of Socara and Peleseyn, for one thing. I might also need a less direct and possibly less intimidating message to the lesser lords Seldar pointed out. How to transport one lady and two kids to Apocalyptica. Technically, one lady, two kids, a giant statue of a horse, and me to Apocalyptica. Make a gate here in the Palace? Head to the local Temple of Shadow? Probably the latter…

  Seldar rapped sharply on the door before opening it. Very polite. Or he was cautious. Startling the undead monster can be hazardous. I don’t know which it was. Both, possibly.

  “Carella is waking and readying Mellelia. Tallin is at the Temple of Shadow. Shall I send for him?”

  “Does Carella ride?”

  “Not by choice,” he admitted. “She loves horses and dogs, but she does not sit a horse well.”

  “Fair enough. Bronze and I can keep the two of them on board. We’ll pick up Tallin at the temple. Oh, and hold out your arm.”

  He did so, curiously. I took a toothpick-sized sample. He didn’t ask, but he did give me a questioning look.

  “It’s not much of a family blessing if I don’t bless Dad, now is it?”