A Rising Darkness

by Nikki Dorakis

  Markos looked surprised. “That was several lunations ago, Meriq,” he said. “I seem to recall that you refused to do so.”

  That was then, I told the monarch. I explained in as much detail as I thought appropriate the ritual I had performed and how Dthor had derailed the process with his sudden and unexpected intervention. The guests listened intently and I noticed Tariq growing increasingly horrified the more I disclosed. He turned to Jae’nt. “You have known this all the while?”

  Jae’nt nodded, though I was quick to point out that he only knew that he was protected by Dthor’s life in battle and did not realise that the enchantment had covered their bout of throw down.

  “And when will this be over?” Tariq demanded.

  “It will be over only once the danger to Jae’nt is passed or if he rejects the pact at the time it is invoked.”

  “And there is no way that this enchantment of yours can be sent awry?” Markos asked. “For I am fully aware that for every enchantment there is a counter-spell.”

  I nodded. It was as Markos said—every spell had its counter. But this pact was safeguarded against interference. I reached into a small pouch and produced a small vial of blood. “This phylactery contains Prince Jae’nt’s blood taken before the pact was sealed; once the pact was made it was impossible for his blood to be spilled.”

  The only way for the pact to be confounded was if someone gained control of the prince’s blood and claimed it at the time the pact was to be invoked. Whoever did this would have call upon the Reaver using the incantation on the vial, break open the seal and pour the blood on his own hands. The killing blow would then work on the prince but would not affect Dthor.

  “You appear to have thought of everything, Ez’n,” Markos said.

  “I believe so. As long as this container remains safe in its hiding place here,” and I rose walked to the bookshelf and set the phylactery behind a book, “Jaen’t will remain safe.”

  “And if your consort does die in Jae’nt’s stead, what then?” Kylos asked.

  “Dthor is to be buried in a secret place known only to me. So long as any part of him remains preserved in this world the pact will stand. In magic physical death is only final when the body either becomes dust, reduced to ash or rendered by the body breakers and consumed by the lammergeyers. Either way, Jae’nt is ensured of a long, fruitful and almost invincible life.”

  As I drained my quaich of the last of the Aggregio Jalin came in with fresh pitcher of water and a plate of the spice cakes. “Everything is clear, Ez’n. May I return to His Majesty and leave Iannos to see to these last few items?”

  “So everything is as it should be, Jalin?”

  “Indeed, Ez’n.”

  “Off you go then, and Jalin,” I called as the youth made to leave, “thank you and please thank the king for me. Oh, and please remind him of our meeting at the tenth secta in the morning.”

  The youth nodded and left.

  I turned back to my friends. “Dthor, Jae’nt you are both to be at that meeting tomorrow. Tariq, you may not be there.”

  “But I . . .”

  “Consort or not, Tariq, you may not be there and the guards will stop you if you defy me on this. Please—trust me.”

  “I trust you with my life, t’pahq,” the archer said softly, “I am not sure I trust you with that of my lover.”

  “He will be safe. You have my oath.”

  †

  CHAPTER 43

  COMES THE REAVER

  JANIR’S WITHDRAWING room was still deserted when the three of us arrived, but it was not long before Balten appeared with the queen and Shiraj. The Seer looked even more smug than he normally did—if that was indeed possible—whereas Balten looked bewildered and slightly ill at ease. I walked over to him.

  “I wanted you here early so that we could talk before your father arrives, your highness.” I told the crown prince. “You asked me some time ago how long you would have to wait.”

  Balten nodded, his expression changing instantly from anxious to expectant. “I recall you told me that you would tell me when it was auspicious.”

  I gave the prince my best treacherous smile. “And today is that time—your majesty.”

  The king arrived with Jalin just as the temple bell tolled out the tenth secta of the morning. He took three scrolls from the satchel the youth carried and set them out neatly on the table before him. He heaved a heavy sigh. “I suppose it is time to get down to business again,” he said quietly.

  Jalin’s thoughts touched mine. “Weave your final spell, my lord.”

  “Not quite my king. Things have changed.” So saying I broke the life link. The glamour surrounding the king vanished and he fell back on the couch into Jalin’s arms. The page lifted the stricken monarch as if he was nothing by a babe. I turned to Balten. “And now, Majesty, the crown will soon be yours.”

  “You treacherous bastard, Meriq. How could you? My father has loved you as his own.” Jae’nt drew his sword. A thought swatted it out of his hand and sent him staggering backwards. Dthor grabbed the prince and held him fast, horror and disbelief carved into every line on his face.

  “Meriq?” Dthor’s voice was hoarse with shock.

  Balten drew his sword and ran Janir through, pinning him to the couch. Twisting the blade free. Eilen strode up to her husband looking victorious. “Die, slowly, husband.”

  When she turned away it was to meet Balten’s blade. “Did you truly think I would share the throne with you, you treacherous witch?” he said as the woman sank to her knees. He turned towards Jae’nt.

  “And now for you, dear brother—the man father thought he would place on the throne in my stead.” He drew back to strike and then stopped. He gave me a vicious smile. “Oh! I nearly forgot.” He struck his blade against the low table a couple of times and archers appeared from behind the wall hangings. “I believe you have something for me, Shiraj?

  The Crown Prince raised his free hand and reached over his shoulder. Shiraj handed him Jae’nt’s phylactery giving me a triumphant smile. “You grow careless, Ez’n.”

  “Well, Seer, we are none of us perfect.”

  I glanced around the room. The archers had been well placed. I only had a direct line of sight to one and by the time I had ended him I would be felled by the others.

  Balten read out the incantation glancing at me from time to time to smirk at me.

  The torches around the room began to gutter and smoke the dark tarry vapours growing thicker as the chant progressed and as Balten broke the seal on the vial the smoke coalesced and the Reaver materialised. “Tovar an vir galtharis fi Jae’nt ibid-Janir-ibid-Azeem.” Balten said and poured his brother’s blood over his hands smiling with an almost obscene delight.

  The Reaver swirled drifting over to Balten. “You are a brave man,” The Reaver said, his hollow tones shaking even the air around us, “Foolish, but brave. Now do what is needful so that I can claim what is mine.” The spirit drifted to where Jae’nt stood placing a spectral hand on the prince’s shoulder.

  Shiraj bustled forward a wicked serpentine kris clutched in his pudgy hand. “Majesty, allow me the honour. You should not start you reign with the Prince Royal’s death on your conscience. Balten smiled savagely. “By all means my loyal friend. By all means.”

  The Seer stepped forward and plunged the dagger into Jae’nt’s gut twisting it viciously several times before dragging it free. Behind him Balten let out a startled gasp and coughed a geyser of blood as he sank slowly to his knees. “What . . . ?”

  The Seer shrieked like a frightened woman and dropped the blade. The archers surrounding us dropped their bows and fled the chamber only to be apprehended as the Kyr-Garrin Elite flooded in.

  “A boon, Reaver, if you would indulge me. Stay your hand for just a moment for Justice is to be mete.”

  I passed my hand over Janir re-establishing the life link and then turned to Balten. “I told you, Balten. I warned you that I was the king’s man until he died. W
hen I said the auspices were right, I meant that your father had but a few hours left to him. Had you waited you would still be alive and you would have ascended the throne.” I turned my attention to Shiraj who stood quaking like a terrified child. “And you, Seer, should have listened in to my dinner party with more discernment and less delight.”

  “Y-you said the ritual would break the pact and kill the prince.”

  “Yes I did, didn’t I” I said smugly.

  “So you who never lie actually lied.” Shiraj’s voice was almost failing him.

  “I was just thinking that,” Dthor commented.

  “Uh, no. You are mistaken. I did not lie. I just did not say which prince would die.” I turned my attention to the Reaver. “My thanks for your indulgence, Reaver. Please, take what is yours.”

  The spirit swelled and engulfed Balten. There was a chilling cry and the Reaver vanished leaving the Crown Prince lifeless on the floor.

  As I went to Janir’s side Jae’nt broke free from Dthor’s grip. He sprang at me, delivering a punch that sent me over the king’s couch. I landed heavily on the other side and lay winded for a moment or two.

  “Come you order, you ingrate, or so help me I will have you flogged.” Janir barked. Jae’nt stood stock still as I climbed to my feet. “Meriq was doing my bidding, Jae’nt. When he took you as a servant it was at my command so that you would learn what was needful for you to replace me. I have only a few hours left me—fewer now, thanks to your older brother, but this too is my will.” The king gave me a pained look. “I learned a lot from Keelan, you know.” He paused. “Still, I am glad I did not ask you what you were planning, Meriq.”

  The king shifted slightly, sitting up with Jalin assisting him. He gestured at the archers. “Have these men put to the sword now. They can never again be trusted to serve their king.” He turned a vengeful eye on Sirazj, “And this one you can throw from the battlements after the sun has set.”

  Sirazj shrieked and threw himself at the king’s feet. “Mercy, your majesty. At least commit me while the Eye of Zoar is on us. My soul will wander lost in the darkness.”

  Janir sneered. “You should have considered the fate of your soul before you involved yourself in treason, you maggot. Take him.” This to Kylos and Aenar. The couple grabbed the Seer and dragged him screaming from the room.

  The king turned to his son. “Rule as well and as justly as you are able, Jae’nt.”

  “I will, father, I promise.”

  “Meriq, take back your life now, I no longer have need of it.”

  The man fell back against Jalin as I broke the life link for the last time. He turned his head slightly as he felt the youth’s tears on his neck. “Hush now, my sweet. I would have my eyes look upon the face of the youth who smiles as he brings me my meals and decorates my plate with flowers.”

  Jalin dried his eyes and forced a smile. Janir smiled back. “Much better,” he said. His back arched and he let out a groan and heavy breath. “Jalin?”

  “Yes, my king, I am here.”

  “Will you bring me flowers in the morning?”

  “Of course, my king, when do I not?”

  The king’s eyes fixed, his breath stilled and he was gone. Jalin let out a great throat-raking cry and fell on the man’s chest. Jae’nt made to stoop to comfort him. I caught the prince’s arm and shook my head. “Let him have this moment, your majesty.” I signalled to the men and they filed out silently. Jae’nt, Dthor and I sat quietly away from the king giving Jalin the space to grieve.

  When finally the youth came to himself I sent Dthor to fetch Aenar, Kylos, Maegor and Faedron so that they might take the king’s body to his state room and have the priests prepare him for commital.

  †

  CHAPTER 44

  NOW TO THE FLAMES

  JAE’NT STALKED around the reception room like a caged mountain cat; if he’d had a tail he would have lashed it. “You planned this! All of it, right to the last detail.” He paused in his pacing long enough to scowl at me. “You knew Balten would find out about the phylactery and use it.” He threw himself on to one of the couches and proceeded to glare at me with such determination that I almost began to laugh at him.

  “I anticipated it, yes.” I admitted.

  “But how did Shiraj know where to look for the vial? Unless . . . you . . .”

  “Did not cloak the apartments?” I supplied, “Well, my king, as I said to the late Seer, we are none of us perfect.”

  “You are a devious little fiend, Meriq.” Dthor scoffed.

  “I am a wizard and the Ez’n, being devious comes as second nature and goes with the territory. It is the being devious without lying that is the true skill.”

  Jae’nt laughed and climbed to his feet. “Well, in truth I am glad that you are still with us, Lord Consort. Now if you will excuse me, my friends, I have a funeral to arrange.” He paused at the door. “I wonder, Meriq, might I retain Jalin permanently? I would like him trained as Seneschal.”

  “I am sure he would like nothing better, majesty.”

  Jae’nt had not long departed when he returned with Tariq at his side. The kalthar was noticeably pale and there were tear tracks on his cheeks.

  I jumped to my feet and hurried over to him. “Whatever is wrong Tariq?”

  The young man closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. He held out five of the crest brooches Janir and Keelan had given them. “My brothers are fallen, t’pahq,” he told me, his voice hoarse with grief. “Taken in the back by sword and lance as they fought a party of Black Legion Slavers.”

  “ALL of them?” Dthor gasped.

  Tariq nodded and his legs buckled as a wave of shock and grief washed over him. “They say there was a mage with them—one who drank the blood of any who approached.” Jae’nt and I guided the archer to one of the couches and helped him sit. A heavy silence descended on us. Jalin came in quiet as a mouse with a tray. He had poured the Brandywine in readiness and setting the tray before us he handed each of us a goblet before withdrawing silently. We drank in silence and continued so until Tariq set his goblet down. He clenched his jaw and began to shake as if he was holding back tears. It was not tears but fury he was suppressing. He stared down at his right hand for some time before he found voice.

  “The petachim . . . took . . . their . . . string-fingers . . . and they . . .” his voice caught in his throat and he choked on a sob, “they . . . they . . . I-I can’t, ‘b’zaddi, I can’t.”

  Jae’nt shifted to kneel on the couch so he could hold Tariq to him more closely. “They cut off their balls and took them as trophies.”

  “What kind of animals are they to do that?” Faedron gasped, horrified.

  “I do not know, Faedron,” I replied, “But I swear by Zoar and Morgul that we will hunt down these beasts and they will be brought to account.” I turned to Aenar. “If Jalin is still outside tell him to fetch Orrin—if he is not there, go yourself.” I turned back to Tariq and placed my hand on his. “We will find them, Tariq. We will not stop until we do.”

  Jae’nt had his father’s pyre built in the main square and, much to the displeasure of Korlaq and some of the other Morlan hierarchy, he insisted that the titans would be placed on the catafalque with him. He was determined that the late king would receive the attention his passing deserved as a father, a king and as the joint liberator of stricken city and he was equally determined that the courage and honour of the titans would receive equal recognition.

  Korlaq was quick to draw attention to the fact that the men had been taken in the back; Morlans did not consider this a warrior’s death and therefore the men should be interred.

  “They were fighting slavers, you petach,” Tariq raged, “They were slain by cowards.”

  “And they are not whole.” Korlaq added—just for good measure.

  Tariq dragged the dagger from his quiver strap and flew at the man. Markos flanked him sending him reeling with a formidable body-check. “This is not the way to honour your br
others, Tariq.” He pulled the kalthar to his feet. “King Jae’nt, I believe your Consort may need some quiet space and the attention of his beloved.”

  When Jaen’t and Tariq were well out of earshot Markos rounded on his general. “That was the most petty and disgraceful thing I have ever seen you do, Korlaq. You know full well that the kaltharim died in battle why in Morgul’s Name would you denigrate their sacrifice?”

  “Because I believe that if there is a Great God He has made the world poorer by taking five warriors who were honourable and true from it and leaving the tainted one in it.” Korlaq sneered at his king. “And I believe that the Great God ordained that they be stripped of their manhood as a sign of his displeasure with your little “sleight of hand” that destroyed the M’rgaerdjinn and allowed the loin-leech that attached itself to the Zetan prince’s cock to go free.”

  “You think there was a deceit in the Court?” Markos asked coolly.

  “Do not play me for a fool, Markos.” Korlaq bit each word. “I know there was a deceit. I know you used Janir’s slything-piece to incinerate Voltax and I suspect that you had that toxic turd that calls itself Ez’n destroy the Qor-hadthin. How long do you think you will hold the throne when I expose you?”

  Markos sauntered casually over to where his general stood. “You are not going to say anything, general. I know it.”

  Korlaq smirked. “And how can you be so . . .” He stopped speaking abruptly, a look of abject surprise spreading across his face.

  “Sure?” Markos supplied. “Oh, I am sure, Korlaq, certain in fact—because you are dead.” The king stepped back twisting his poniard to break the blood seal. He kicked the man to the floor and turned away returning to his seat to retrieve his drink. He raised his goblet to us in a salute, smiling at our stunned expressions. “It can never be wise to attract the displeasure of a king,” he said casually, “especially this one.” He drained his cup and walked to the door. “Oh, if Jae’nt comes back in the next few moments, tell him I am making arrangements to have that pile of shit cleaned up.”