Heart of the Empire (The Broken Lands Book 1)

by Carrie Summers

  Caddill’s smile was wistful. “It was one of my instructions to him. True, no one knows the Heart’s purpose. But in all my visions, the stone hung from your neck. And I wanted the chance to give you one thing that isn’t a burden. I hope you’ll think of me when you wear it. Remember the man I wanted to be, not the Emperor I was forced to become.”

  I met the man’s gaze. “I will never forget it, Caddill. When a Scion replaces me, they’ll hear the tale of your attempt to save the servant girl. Among other things.”

  Light entered his eyes. “Lyrille… She’s alive. No matter his treason, Argentmaster Yevinish had no desire to murder an innocent young woman. He was still delaying her punishment when the protectors entered his chamber.”

  Relief spread through my chest. “Thank the clear skies.”

  “Now,” Caddill said, “shall we proceed to the courtyard? I’ve left instructions to prepare for your Ascension. The arrangements should now be complete.”

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Savra

  Approaching Steelhold's central courtyard

  “WHICH WAY TO the palace?” Sirez hissed.

  We crouched in the shadows cast by the palace kitchens. Distantly, I felt my link to the three protectors under my control. They continued to stand guard over the Shadow Gate. The men struggled against the compulsion, but so far I managed to keep a firm grip on their wills. A Sharder had suggested I command them to throw themselves off the ascent trail. She’d grinned as she’d said it, leaving me uncertain whether she was serious. In any case, I wasn’t going to murder the men while I had another choice. Besides, leaving the Shadow Gate undefended would draw unwanted attention.

  I hesitated before pointing the way to the Hold’s central courtyard. I couldn’t ignore the line of throwing daggers sheathed along one of the Sharder’s legs. By the way the man spoke to Sirez, I knew his expertise. Assassination. Stormshard had come to strike a killing blow to the Empire.

  I wasn’t sure whether I’d regret helping them or not. I’d seen how the Ministry and Emperor treated the Provs in Jaliss. Countless lives would be improved if the Empire fell—after the chaos settled, anyway. But I had never expected to hold responsibility for the killing of the leadership.

  I forced myself to remember Minister Brevt’s evil aura. A taint infested metalogy and all who used the power. The heart of the Empire was rotten. Better to cut it out than allow the sickness to spread.

  With a nod, the Sharders set off, slipping from building to building. As we neared the courtyard, I focused on their auras and extended my repelling shield over them.

  Approaching the square, the Sharder assassin stepped into the lead. He crept forward, snatched the single torch that lit the alley, and doused it in a rain barrel. Concealed by the new darkness, the rest of the Sharder band slipped toward the alley mouth.

  I stopped short at the sight of the courtyard.

  “Wait,” I said. “Something’s not right.”

  After the commotion with the Emperor’s arrival—or that of his impostor—I hadn’t ventured near the Hold’s central square. In the meantime, the courtyard had been transformed. A wide dais had replaced the whipping post. Torches blazed around the platform, sparks swirling into the mountain air. Ranks and ranks of protectors surrounded the dais, facing outward in rigid attention. A single drummer stood beside a massive gong.

  Was this some sort of ceremony? Another execution?

  As if in answer, the drummer swung a massive, leather-wrapped mallet at the gong. The sound vibrated my bone marrow. I clapped my hands over my ears before he smacked the metal disk again.

  After the gong had been struck thirteen times, the palace doors swung open. A herald stepped from the door and raised his speaking horn.

  “Emperor Tovmeil, first of his name.”

  I sucked in a breath. So he wasn’t dead after all. Beside me, the assassin stiffened as the Emperor stepped from the palace. The killer’s hand went to the knives at his thigh. I stared in horror. Was he insane? More than one hundred protectors guarded the square. We were as good as dead if he attacked now. As if hearing my thoughts, Sirez laid a hand on the man’s shoulder and shook her head.

  “Wait until it’s certain,” she whispered.

  The Emperor stepped onto the dais. He looked different than I’d expected. I wasn’t sure what I’d imagined I’d see. Pointed teeth and blazing eyes? But Tovmeil was just a man wearing ornate clothing and the demeanor of someone used to authority.

  From atop the platform, he scanned the gathered protectors. After a nod, he regarded a group of metalogists arrayed before the Hall of Mages. Their robes were cut in the same style, loose-fitting but without spare fabric. At this distance, I couldn’t make out the jewelry on their fingers, but I guessed they were from the same Order. In front of the larger group, three people stepped forward and bowed, precise and synchronized.

  Emperor Tovmeil stared at the mages. “Where are the ferros and argents? I requested full attendance.”

  A woman in protector’s armor stepped from the ranks of soldiers. She pressed her fist to her chest in salute. “They claim to be busy investigating solutions to the riots, your eminence.”

  “Cowards,” Emperor Tovmeil said with a snort. “Trinity, have your aurums bring me the argentmaster and the highest ranking ferro after Ilishian. The lower ranks can hide in their towers for all I care. They’ll follow where their masters lead.”

  Nodding as one, the three apparent leaders of the gathered mages whirled. Every motion was calculated and indistinguishable. Speaking in unison, they addressed their followers. “Do as the Emperor says. The masters of the ferro and argent orders are summoned to the courtyard.”

  A sudden whirlwind, the aurums burst into motion. They entered the tower like a swift breeze, none interfering with another, and vanished before I could finish a breath.

  “Mages at odds with the palace,” Sirez whispered. “It’s an opportunity.”

  The assassin nodded. “Look there,” he said, pointing to the right-hand side of the courtyard where Ministry Hall loomed over the square. A massive colonnade jutted into the courtyard, the columns set close and casting complicated shadows in the torchlight. “Good cover. I can get near without being seen.”

  Sirez nodded. “And you won’t call attention to the group by acting. Go. But remember, only strike if it’s certain. There will be other chances.”

  As Sirez spoke, she glanced at me. My breath stuttered. Other chances... Was she considering leaving me here if the assassination attempt failed? It would be difficult to insert another Sharder into the Hold. I swallowed. I’d explained my difficulties with Minister Brevt. Plus, I couldn’t keep control of the three protectors forever. Once I released them, my secret ability would be exposed. I hoped the Shard leader didn’t intend to go back on her promise to help me escape.

  The assassin nodded and melted into the alley behind us. No doubt he intended to circle around to Ministry Hall. I chewed my lip and hoped he knew what he was doing.

  A tense silence filled the courtyard while the aurum mages were inside the Hall, broken only by the crackle and spit of the torches and a stray cough. It felt as if Steelhold’s peace teetered on the brink. If the ferros and argents decided to openly oppose the Emperor, what would happen? Could they win against the aurums and protectors? And what would befall those of us trapped between them?

  Finally, the doors to the Hall of Mages opened. The aurums emerged, surrounding a pair of mages wearing deep scowls.

  “You’ve summoned us from important work, Emperor,” one said.

  “You’re fortunate I’m giving you the chance to attend, Yevinish,” the Emperor responded.

  “Master Yevinish,” the mage replied. “Or do you forget my position?”

  “Does the master of an order betray his sovereign? Or is that act reserved for first-rank children who can’t contemplate the consequences of their actions? I am granting you the chance to repent your tr
eason. You as well, ferro,” Emperor Tovmeil said to the other mage.

  Unlike the man who’d corrected the Emperor in the use of his title, the ferro mage dry-washed his hands and nodded. “I was misled, your eminence. And without Ilishian’s guidance, I took the Ministry at their word.”

  Emperor Tovmeil narrowed his eyes. “A lie. But a forgivable one, as long as you kneel. I am not a vengeful man. I care only that the Empire remains strong.”

  So quickly it looked like he tripped, the ferro mage fell to his knees. The other, Master Yevinish, held the Emperor’s eyes for a long time.

  “Your power depends on the argents,” Master Yevinish said.

  “And your continued right to life depends on my forgiveness,” Emperor Tovmeil said. “Now, kneel!”

  The argentmaster clenched his jaw. Finally, one leg at a time, he lowered his knees to the floor of the courtyard.

  Emperor Tovmeil faced the crowd. “I’ve been away. My departure was both hasty and necessary, an escape under threat of my life. Eleven of the Scions were not so fortunate and were murdered in their sleep.”

  Around me, the Stormsharders stiffened in shock. That alone suggested they weren’t responsible. When I caught Sirez’s eye, she shook her head, denying Sharder involvement.

  At the Emperor’s words, the gathered protectors remained still, no doubt due to their deadened spirits. The mages offered no overt reaction, but I got the sense that the aurums were like taut bowstrings, ready to strike in revenge for the attack on the throne. From a few of the alleys leading into the courtyard, movement hinted at servants watching the proceedings. I glanced over my shoulder; though I kept a shield over our group in hopes of avoiding attention, we’d be in a bad position if a palace staff member happened upon us.

  “The circumstances are shocking enough,” Emperor Tovmeil went on. “But more shocking is the source. The Atal Empire has been betrayed by its own Ministry. The men and women I’ve known since birth attempted to have me murdered. Minister Brevt confirmed their guilt just this afternoon by trying to personally assault me in this very square.”

  “Sirez,” one of the other Sharders, a man with an old scar across his forehead said, “we haven’t planned for this. The idea was to slip an assassin into the palace. If Tovmeil were alone, he could be taken down easily. But now?”

  The Stormshard leader pressed her lips together as she squinted toward the Ministry Hall colonnade. “I shouldn’t have let Grawsen leave us. Makes a retreat difficult unless we abandon him. Let’s wait it out a little longer. I trust his judgment.”

  Though the scarred man looked doubtful, he nodded. Sirez had more authority than she’d admitted during our negotiations. I hoped she would use that wisely when it came to freeing me from this place.

  “I have returned to Steelhold,” Emperor Tovmeil called out, “but the time of my reign is over.”

  At this, even the protectors stiffened. The aurums whispered to one another, movements fluid as they shifted position.

  “What in the wide sky?” Sirez muttered.

  The Emperor nodded at the drummer who smacked the gong. As the tone reverberated in the square, servants emerged from alleys, curiosity overriding the Provs’ fear of the Emperor. Motion near the colonnade caught my eye. Like ink flowing through a dark sea, the assassin wove between columns, his movements covered by the general disarray in the square.

  After another ring of the gong, the Emperor raised his hands for quiet. “I am invoking an ancient code, set down so long ago that few but the stones remember. Among the canon of the Atal is a provision for the Emperor to name his successor should Ascension be disrupted. I claim that right tonight.”

  At that, the Emperor turned and gestured toward the palace. The entrance stood on the opposite side of the courtyard from our hiding place in the alley. Over the heads of the protectors, I could see the top edge of the doors as they opened wide, but I couldn’t see who emerged.

  “A new Emperor?” one of the Sharders whispered. “If Grawsen is quick enough, he can eliminate both of them. End the storms-cursed dynasty for good.”

  As the newcomer crossed the square, protectors turned to face the procession. First, the top of a head appeared above the crowd. Short hair, tousled. Judging by the person’s height—taller than almost everyone in the square—I guessed it was probably a man.

  A boot clicked against a wooden stair that ascended the dais.

  When the new Emperor’s face rose above the crowd, my heart stopped.

  Kostan?

  Chapter Seventy

  Kostan

  Ascension Dais, Steelhold

  PROV SERVANTS BEGAN to trickle from the alleys surrounding the square. I ran my eyes over them, nodding in acknowledgment whenever I managed to make eye contact. More than the metalogists or the protectors, I wanted the Provs to accept me. I needed them to know that I saw them as equal to the Atal.

  Unfortunately, most everyone who met my eyes instantly dropped their gaze, a mix of fear and hatred obvious on their faces.

  I clenched my fists. I’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but I’d still allowed myself to hope.

  After allowing the moment to linger, Caddill nodded to the Aurum Trinity. As one, the mages approached the dais and climbed the stairs on its flank. Carried on a cushion was the Bracer of Sight. Though Caddill and all the emperors before him had hidden their use of the bracer, I was determined to be honest with my subjects. They would know why I made the decisions I did. I would be clear when describing the threats we faced.

  Eventually, the Provs would trust me. I had to believe that.

  A slight tremor shook the Hold as I pulled back my sleeve and extended my forearm. Fringing the square, Prov eyes widened at the reminder of the quake that had leveled so many of their homes.

  I straightened my shoulders, projecting strength. After the ceremony, I would speak to them, laying out my plan to rebuild the city and raise up the Provs. With luck, these servants would be among the first to carry the news of my changes back to their homes.

  One of the women in the Trinity fastened the bracer around my forearm. Before my difficult journey through the mountains and my sparse meals in Jaliss, the buckles might not have fastened—they were still fitted for Caddill’s slighter build. But now the relic clamped snuggly around my arm without pinching.

  I took a deep breath as the truth sank in. After everything, the worries and struggles and mistakes, I was truly Ascending. Though Ilishian had recognized me before, I’d considered his oath to be something of a sham. I hadn’t thought of myself as Emperor. Would I after this? After the Trinity vested me with the relics of the throne and the protectors swore vows to defend me? Or would I always feel like an impostor?

  I lowered my arm, glad that the bracer wouldn’t be attuned to me until later. A diviner would bring the Tempest Goblet, and I would drink Maelstrom water to join the relic to my soul. Until then, I’d remain free of the burden of its visions.

  The Trinity turned to face the crowd. They spoke as one. “Emperor Tovmeil, first of his name, hereby cedes the throne to Emperor Kostan. On the occasion of Kostan’s second birthday, we branded his foot with the Gilded Iron. We have looked upon the scar. We verify the Emperor’s Mark.”

  Not, of course, without making their displeasure over my actions known. If not for Caddill’s command, the aurums would have rejected this Ascension outright. While they’d examined my foot, I’d searched their faces for guilt over adorning me with a cuff that caused permanent infection. No remorse had shown in their eyes.

  Next, the Prime Protector climbed onto the dais. She faced her soldiers and guards. “Repeat after me. Emperor Kostan, first of his name, my sword is yours forever.”

  As the guards began to recite, the ground trembled once again. Among the Provs, whispers rose. They looked at me with accusing eyes, as if these shakes were ill omens. I wanted to cut the ceremony short, explain that only my Ascension could protect them from worse things to come
. They needed to know about the Breaking, that a strong Empire was our only chance of avoiding it.

  As the protectors finished their oath, a rumble rose from the Icethorns at our backs. Moments later, the Hold jolted to the left. Servants yelped. The aurum mages dropped into lithe crouches to keep their balance.

  “No!” From an alley mouth ahead and to my left, a woman’s shout pierced the air. “Kostan! Watch out!”

  What was this? I rose on my toes and caught a flash of auburn hair. A shock traveled my body. The color was so rare I thought it must have been my imagination. Savra couldn’t be here.

  As the ground rolled under the Hold, I whipped my head left and right, looking for the woman and the apparent threat. Upset by the shaking earth, the ranks of protectors fell into disarray as the soldiers stumbled.

  And suddenly, I saw her. Savra planted a foot on the back of a protector who’d fallen to his knees and vaulted over the man. She sprinted across the courtyard, not toward me, but straight for the side of the dais.

  “Savra, no!” someone else yelled from the alley.

  Too late. Savra slammed into a black-garbed stranger who’d just set foot on the stairs leading onto the dais. She and the man tumbled beneath the mob of protectors. A blade went flying, scoring the cheek of an unwary protector. The guard slapped a hand to the cut, a perplexed expression on her otherwise stony face. Moments later, she began to shudder. Convulsing, she fell to the ground.

  “Protectors!” called the Prime from beside me. “Defend your ruler! A poisoner is amongst us!”

  I shook my head, bewildered. How had Savra come here? And the man... had he intended to assassinate me?

  Bodies closed over the convulsing woman as the guards closed ranks and encircled the dais. As the protectors trudged forward, knees bent to accommodate the rocking ground, the black-clad man scrambled to his feet and ran through the panicked crowd at the edge of the square.