I shuddered, more from the thought of the Morlans than from the relentless winter chill. Such an alliance could only be the construct of a power-hungry madman and Janir was neither of those things. But this was not Janir’s plan, I reminded myself.
In the aftermath of the blizzard the days seemed to grow more clement. It remained cold, but nothing as biting as the mid-winter storm, and as the days changed to settans and the skies remained clear, the city began to return to a more normal pace of life. The Old Cycle gave way to the new sparking of waves of celebration throughout the city as the Zetans began to believe that the end of what had been an extremely harsh winter was now in sight. Time that had seemingly been frozen by the icy grip of the winter moved on and gradually the street workers managed to clear the avenues and alleyways alike salting and sanding the streets and steps so that moving between the upper and lower parts of the city became much easier and safer.
But even with the return of the sun, the snow showed no signs of leaving us. It lay in drifts against wall and fence or stood in grey, gritty piles where the street-men had shovelled it. Yet even with the discoloured hummocks the snow lost little of its charm in the sunlight, and as I sat by the window taking the time to admire the work of the snow sprites sounds of merriment laughter drifted up from the streets and courtyard below. Finishing the stew I was eating and setting the bowl on the window cill I rose and leaned to look out.
Below me children, parents and soldiers alike were frolicking in the snow, the children and their guardians set to building snow castles and various figures whilst the soldiers and young men engaged in the more robust sport of throwing snow balls and, in my estimation, the less sensible pursuit of wrestling. I smiled to myself. It did not take much for the people to start celebrating. The break in the weather was just the thing to provide release from being shut in for the best part of a lunation.
As the sun sank lower and the night began to set in the sounds of fun from outside began to fade away as people made their way home away from the encroaching cold and back to the warmth of their hearths. I settled at my desk and began to sift through the pile of various petitions and despatches that had managed to find their way to me despite the blizzard.
I worked steadily vaguely aware of the sound of the guards changing and the distant chime of the temple bells, and I had just started work on yet another revision to the Morlan Treaty when I suddenly became aware of a hand on mine. Looking up I was astonished and not a little taken aback to find myself looking up at Captain Dthor-Aid’n.
“Your pardon, Ez’n. I have been guarding your chamber for the best part of four sectas now and I cannot help but notice that you have not eaten or drunk since sunset.” He gestured to the table by the ingle where Jalin was standing with a supper tray spread with breads, cured meat and preserves.
I set the quill down and gave the Captain my best stony glance, an expression he effected not to notice. “Are you a guard or governess?” I demanded spikily.
“Lord Ez’n. It is my duty to ensure your continued well-being.” The tall blond solider gave me a mischievous smile. “The King commands it.”
“And we all know how seriously you take your duty Captain.” I said as he took the tray from Jalin and set it before me once I had settled myself by the fire. “Such dedication is destined to scar a man.” I remarked taking the tea he proffered and setting it on the arm of the chair.
Dthor-Aid’n smiled, his hand straying to the small white line on his jaw. “Such marks are to be borne with honour, Ez’n and,” he added as he prepared to leave, “with pride.”
I glanced up at the young soldier, suddenly feeling as if I was seeing him and understanding his sense of duty for the first time. “Will you join me, Captain?” I said.
“I regret, Ez’n, I am on duty. I cannot.”
“Then how can you be sure I will eat and not go back to my desk as soon as you are returned to your post?”
Dthor-Aid’n walked back to the ingle and picked up the cup I had set aside. He placed it back in my hand folding his hand around mine as he did so. He leaned towards me, so close that I could see the tiny gold flecks of firelight reflected in his sudden blue eyes. “I will know,” he said softly then straightened up, his mood suddenly jocular. “because Jalin here will tell me.” The soldier saluted, bowed and left.
“And that is supposed to be some kind of threat is it? I grumbled, frowning as Jalin settled himself on the stool opposite me. “And what exactly are you doing, Jalin?”
“Making certain that you eat, if it please you Ez’n.” The boy regarded me seriously with his great green eyes.
I found myself smiling. “And if it does not please me?”
“If I am to be truthful, Ez’n, I am much more afraid of the Captain than of you. If I were to fail this task I fear he will hang me by the thumbs and fly me as a flag over his barracks.”
I laughed out loud. “And why in heaven’s name would you think that, Jalin?” I asked splitting a bread roll and filling it with meat.
“Because that is what he said he would do to me if I did not make sure you got something to eat.”
“Well,” I smiled at the boy, “we would not want that.” A sudden thought struck me. “What time is it Jalin?”
“The Temple has just sounded the fourth secta, Ez’n. It is very late.”
Indeed it was, almost the middle of the night in fact. I had completely lost track of the time, and now, eating the meal Jalin had been instructed to bring me I suddenly realised how hungry I was.
“Your pardon, Ez’n, but if you did not use that,” Jalin pointed to the light-globe on the desk, “you would not over-tax yourself.” The boy’s voice oozed such intense disapproval that I found myself smiling.
“You dislike magic, Jalin?”
“I do not approve of it, my lord. Every magic has its price,” the boy picked up the globe and turned it around in his hand before setting it back on its stand, “even this simple kind.”
“Really?” I found myself smiling again.
“Indeed,” Jalin responded seriously, “before you started having that thing on your desk you always knew when to stop working. Now you do not.”
I considered this for a moment. His words had merit. The light globe enchanted as it was would automatically compensate for the failing daylight while it was close to me, and much as I was loath to admit it, I did seem to be working well into the night lately. I gave Jalin a grin. “Then perhaps this should go into the withdrawing room?”
“Oh yes, Ez’n! I will bring light sticks instead.”
“And a bottle of Anubis’ Stag’s Blood, please, Jalin. I wish to give the Captain a token of my appreciation for his consideration.”
“Certainly, Ez’n. But the Captain’s watch is over. He will be at the Barracks.”
“Then perhaps you would be good enough to take it to him.”
“Of course, my lord.” Jalin bowed and left, returning a few moments later with a menorah of light sticks and the wine. “I will take this to the Captain at once.”
I settled back by the fire, sipping the tea and picking at the various treats Jalin had set out for me. He was a fine lad, I decided, bright, quite humorous at times and very conscientious with his studies. In the three moons he had been at the temple he had very deeply impressed Zhartal with the speed at which he had grasped calculus and scribing, and it seemed the boy also had a natural gift for languages. He had picked up Zhartal’s native Alfexan as if he had been born in Alfasia and had already mastered the rudiments of the more complex Morlan tongue, and on Zhartal’s recommendation I had begun speaking to him in Medran which despite it being another difficult tongue he seemed to absorb as a sponge takes up water. Once his education was completed he would be a valuable asset. A shame, I thought, that Balten had not seen beyond the boy’s more pulchritudinous attributes. But then, why would he bother to look? Boys had only one use in Balten’s eyes.
I dismissed the Crown Prince from my thoughts. I did not wish to s
pend more time in contemplation of his depravities and instead turned my thoughts to the Spring that was now only two moons away and the arrival of the Morlans which, given their legendary prowess, could be any time before the Spring Thaw. Indeed, they may well have already breached the Iron Mountain pass and be bivouacked out on the Northern Plains in preparation for a forced march to Kalina. There had been no sightings reported nor signal fires seen to support my supposition, but although I did not like Morlans I was not about to underestimate their ability to withstand hardship. They were, when all was said, a remarkable fighting force.
Their boys were bred to fight and encouraged to ferocity and competition from the moment they could walk it seemed. They neither gave nor sought quarter in a battle and it always seemed that their first and last waking thought was the dream of a glorious death. It was sung in many a barrack history that no Morlan soldier ever died in his bed and that the only way to prise a sword from Morlan’s hand was to cut off the fingers after he was dead. I could only guess at how true either statement might be, but it was true that a Morlan sword was a prize highly valued among those who had done battle with Morla and survived.
My musing was disturbed by the sound of drunken laughter and raised voices in the courtyard below. I smiled to myself. Obviously someone was celebrating the end of the blizzard in some style. I poured some more tea and drew my legs up into the chair, pulling the thick home woven throw around me like a cloak and sat swathed in the warmth of the fire and spicy rubyspike tea. Thus settled I began to make plans to visit take some time out in the next day or so to visit with my friends in the Royal Barracks. Thinking about it, it occurred to me that I had not been amongst the soldiers for several settans—an absence that would have been unthinkable before my inauguration as Ez’n. So it was that I decided I would visit the men the very next evening once the sun had set.
I would order a couple of casks of good ale from the Royal Kitchens and send them down ahead of my visit as much a token of my continued goodwill towards the men as an indication that I had not forgotten them. My planning was suddenly interrupted by a frantic banging on the door. Before I had even disentangled myself from the throw Faedron burst in closely followed by Maegor.
“Ez’n. You must come quickly. It is Jalin.”
I began to ask what, but before I could even form the words Faedron had thrown my cloak over my shoulders and together with Maegor was almost dragging me down the postern stairs to the courtyard.
“No time,” he said, breathlessly, “No time.”
At the end of the square Jae’nt and a group of his friends were laughing and shouting. Wineskins were scattered about them and the snow was stained red with porter. The prince swayed drunkenly, grabbing a javelin from the quarrel slung on the back of one if his group. It was not until he hauled back his arm and a gap appeared in the group that I saw his target.
Jalin was pinned to a storeroom door by the two javelins piercing the thick folds at the shoulder of his winter cloak. Jae’nt let out a war whoop and let fly.
Even from where I stood I could see that his aim was off and that the spear would hit the boy in the centre of his chest.
Scarcely had the realisation formed than my mind seemed to collapse in on itself and explode outwards like a coiled spring suddenly released. The projectile shattered showering the terrified boy with pulverised metal and wood. Jae’nt grabbed another spear yelling about his god-cursed aim and made ready to throw again. I conjured a fireball and hurled it into the frozen fountain behind him.
The frozen water erupted in a geyser of steam and flame, the fire roaring to roof height fuelled as it was by my anger. A swift thought tore the javelin from his grip and hurled it into the flames.
“Stand to.” I shouted as Jae’nt rounded on me and made to draw his sword. Two of his number attempted to run but were brought up short when they collided with several of the Palace Guards who had been attracted by the sudden explosion of fire. Citizens startled awake by the noise appeared in the square carrying pails to battle to flames but stopped and stood bewildered when they realised that it was the fountain that was afire. Aenar, Dthor-Aid’n and a contingent arrived in short order along with a pump wagon and stumbled to a halt as they were confronted by the column of flame.
I stalked up to the prince and his cronies but as I began to berate them for their irresponsibility Maegor placed his hand on my shoulder. “Ez’n. I fear that your dog-boy is dead from fear.”
I turned away from the hooligans and ran over to where Jalin stood rigid against the storeroom door. His mouth was agape, his eyes wide and dark, the green irises nothing more than threads bordering wildly dilated pupils. His face, grey as stone, was frozen in a rictus of terror.
Pulling a torch from the sconce by the door I passed it across his face. There was a slight movement in the irises. Not dead. Deep in shock, certainly, but not dead. At least not yet.
“Take them down.” I hissed. I looked directly at Jae’nt. “All of them.” I told Aenar as his men surrounded the squad leaving the Prince Royal unguarded.
“Ez’n?” Aenar raised an eyebrow.
“Did you not hear me?” I shouted, “I said ALL of them.”
Aenar saluted and signalled his men to shackle Jae’nt as well. I stalked up to the Prince. “I tell you this, Highness, you had best pray that Jalin survives for if he does not . . .”
“Then what?” Jae’nt demanded defiant in his drunkenness and far too inebriated either to realise his jeopardy or to care about it.
“I will have you flogged to within the last breath of your miserable life and these,” I made a broad slicing gesture at his friends with such ferocity that the youths flinched at the movement. “these animals I will flay alive myself, fly their skins as flags from the rooftop of Dthar Kyr-sini and their remains will be fed to the cast pigs—if they will deign to eat them.” To Aenar, “Take them down.”
I snuffed out the column of fire with a gesture, spreading confusion through the gathering, and those citizens who had arrived intent on fighting the fire scattered like leaves before the wind. Those more robust souls who remained to see the disturbance to its end began to mutter about dark magic and sorcery.
Well good, I thought, let them talk. Perhaps it will discourage others from behaving thus in the precincts of my apartments and the grounds of the Royal House.
“The boy is settled in your room Ez’n. Alna is with him.” Dthor-Aid’n told me as he emerged from my quarters.
I turned, taking a goblet of wine from Faedron. “Thank you, Captain. You are dismissed.”
“Ez’n . . .”
“I said you are dismissed Captain.” I retorted. And without a further glance at the men I turned and walked into my withdrawing room.
The sun was scarcely above the horizon when the door bell sounded. Aarin and Iannos both paused in their tasks to look at me. I motioned Aarin to continue pouting my tea and in response to another gesture Iannos fetched my cloak from the stand by the ingle. I drained the teacup and rose pausing slightly as Iannos draped the cloak over my shoulders. Aarin handed me the scroll I had prepared the night before.
Alna appeared a few moments later accompanied by Dthor-Aid’n, Aenar and Idril.
“I take it the King is waiting,” I said to Idril.
The man gave me a mordant smile. “The King commands your presence,” Idril told me.
“I very much doubt that,” I responded flatly, effecting not to notice the exchange of looks between Aenar and Captain Dthor-Aid’n. The king was no doubt gravely displeased by Jae’nt’s arrest and it was clear from the Deputy Commander’s manner that he either thought or hoped that I was in desperately serious trouble. And indeed I could be. It was not every day that a viceroy ordered the arrest of a prince. “And if you ever address me again without using my title and a tone of proper respect, Deputy Commander, you will find yourself pilloried. You are dismissed.”
Idril drew himself up to his full height and puffed out his chest. “The king .
. .”
“I said you are dismissed, Deputy Idril. Do not address me again.”
“King Janir will not be pleased that you dismissed The Deputy, Ez’n. He ordered that he lead the escort.” Aenar said quietly as we walked to the royal chambers.
“The king would be more displeased if I’d had the man arrested or defenestrated, Provost. And anyway he is likely to be more greatly displeased because of last night,” I answered, “and will probably become more annoyed when I report Idril’s insolence.”
“You are navigating with a very tight sail, lad,” Dthor-Aid’n told me as we reached the king’s private rooms.
I gave the captain a small smile. “Needs must that I am twice as hard as Anubis to prove I am half as good,” I responded. “I cannot afford to yield even a hair’s breadth to the merest suggestion of rebellion or insolence.”
The door to the king’s rooms opened. “Strong words, Kyr-sini.” Janir motioned me inside bidding the guards to wait for me.
“Needs must when Devils drive.” I answered.
The king motioned me to a couch by the ingle. “Breakfast, Ez’n?”
I declined having already eaten. The king raised an eyebrow at me. “You were up very early then? One might suppose you were expecting my call.”
“Your commanding of my presence, I believe.” I smiled at Janir’s expression. “At least that is how Deputy Idril presented it.”
Janir nodded. “Ah! That explains why he is not heading the escort as I had instructed.”
“He is fortunate not to be heading a pike on my lawn.”
Janir smiled again. “He lacks subtlety and diplomacy,” the king acknowledged.
A Rising Darkness Page 11