by William King
“Because they do not want to offend you, and because they want your favour.”
“Again, correct. Because they do not want to offend me. Can you imagine what it is like to live in a world where no one wants to offend you, where no one wants to disagree with you, where everyone—but everyone—is afraid of you?”
Kormak shook his head.
“It is a very isolating thing, and the terrifying thing about it is that you get used to it. All of it. You get to believe that others’ high opinion of you—their apparent high opinion of you—is correct. You get to believe you are always right. If you are not careful. I would like you to think about that before you judge my brother. Are you capable of that, Sir Kormak?”
“I am, your majesty.”
Aemon picked up the knight, held it in his hand, rotated it and put it down on the table.
“I didn’t want to be king, you know. When I was a boy I wanted to be a monk—to dedicate my life to the Holy Sun. I would have done it too, if my elder brother had not died. It changed my life, and not for the better. There are times when I still consider abdicating in favour of Taran. Do you know why I do not?”
“No, your majesty.”
“Because my brother is not clever enough to be King of Siderea.” Aemon paused for a moment, put down the knight, picked up the king. “Do not misunderstand me. Taran is clever enough in his way, but he is limited and he has our father’s temper. His becoming king would be a disaster for the nation, and he knows this.”
Kormak kept silent. He guessed Aemon was used to people doing this while he talked. There did not seem to be anything he could say without sounding antagonistic, which would serve no purpose. “He knows it and he is content to play the role of the ruthless spymaster. He takes the blame for all my evil actions so I may remain the spotless saintly king. People want to believe I am that, so they do—no matter what my regime does. They want to believe that if only I knew the things done in my name, I would not permit them. As if I could not know.”
He sounded bitter. He waved his hand in a gesture of disgust, glared up at the portrait of his father, made the sign of the Holy Sun over his heart. “When I was young, I wanted to be a good man. When I came to the throne, I found I had to make a choice between being a good man and a good king. And invariably I have chosen to be a good king.”
“Are the two mutually exclusive?”
“Not always, but often. I condone necessary murders because they strengthen my nation’s position, or remove my nation’s enemies. I order the destruction of towns, knowing that innocent children will die. I do so because those towns are controlled by heretics that will upset the stability of the realm. I remain silent while men are tortured, because we need the information they have, and examples must be set to discourage others. I have stained my soul black with these things, Sir Kormak, and a thousand other things like them. I have chosen to walk an evil path of my own free will, and I will pay the price when the Holy Sun judges me.”
“It is your choice, Sire.”
“There is no need to sound so judgemental. I know it. I have done all these things willingly, and I would do all of them again, and things a thousand times worse if I had to. Because I am king, and in my charge has been placed the destiny of millions. And because shadows gather, Sir Kormak. Shadows gather, and someone must oppose them.”
He glared directly at Kormak now. He was breathing deeply, like a man fighting a battle. The amulet on Kormak’s chest grew warm. Mystical power surged all around them.
“You have travelled. You have seen what is happening. Everywhere, the world falls into darkness. Everywhere, evil things lurk in hidden places, waiting to come forth. The Kingdoms of the Sun are in chaos. The Empire of the Moon turns once more to evil. The Shadow Kingdoms grow strong again. Something wicked stirs the orcs at the boundaries of the civilised lands. All it will take is one hard push, and everything will fall into the Long Night. Shadowfall approaches. You know I speak the truth.”
Kormak had heard it all before. “You are now going to tell me that we must be ruthless to oppose the gathering darkness, that evil times justify evil measures, that strong men are needed to oppose the power of Shadow, and you are one of those strong men.”
There was silence for a moment. Kormak wondered whether he had overstepped the mark. Aemon laughed and said, “And so I am repaid in kind. But yes, Sir Kormak, I believe all of these things to be true, and not just because, as you are no doubt thinking, they bolster my rule and justify my evil actions. I believe all these things to be true because they are true.”
“Your logic seems circular.”
“I am in a better position than almost any man alive to know what is going on in this world. I have vast networks of spies at my command. I have seeing stones, and the power to use them. I can summon the most learned scholars and the mightiest mages to answer my questions. I can speak to the Angels themselves if the need arises.”
Aemon’s bony face seemed narrower and more fanatical than ever, and a chill gleam entered his eye. “You do not believe me?”
Kormak said nothing.
Aemon smiled. “There are ways of contacting the Angels, just as there are ways of summoning demons and conjuring elementals. I have the necessary texts in my library.”
“I do not doubt that, your majesty.”
“I have told you all of these things for a reason. I want you to understand that when I am evil, I am evil for a reason. I want you to know that I do my best to keep the greater good in mind. I think you will understand because we are alike in this.”
“How so, your majesty?”
“Because we are both flawed men in which the Light has placed a great trust. Because the world is darkening, and that darkness must be opposed. Those who must do it are people like you and me. We are not saints, Sir Kormak or heroes. We are just men. But in this Age of the World, we are all there is. If people like us do not oppose the Shadow, no one will. We are the only tools the Light has.
“I am a man of faith, Sir Kormak. I believe that the Light placed me on the throne of Siderea for a purpose, just as I believe it put a dwarf-forged blade in your hand. I have looked into your soul and I see you are troubled by your burden. You are not the only one, but the Light needs its champions, and it must take them where it can find them. You are needed in this struggle. Believe me in that, even if you believe me in nothing else.”
“I take it you also believe that the Light wants me to go to Terra Nova and uncover the truth about the sarcophagus.”
“I believe it is the best use of your talents.”
“Is that why you contacted Grand Master Darius?”
“I did not do that. My brother did.”
“I believe we have already established that your brother is your agent in all things.”
“This he did of his own accord, because he believed it was my will. I cannot say I am saddened by the fact, but it is not what I would have done.”
Kormak’s smile was cynical.
Aemon spread his hand in a helpless gesture. “Sir Kormak, I hope that I have convinced you that I try to be the best man I can under the circumstances in which I find myself. I try not to lie when I can avoid it.”
There was nothing to be gained by pressing the matter.
King Aemon took out a package of papers sealed with wax, and a ring which Kormak recognised. It had come from the finger of the Kraken; Kormak had cut it off himself.
“You will need these on your journey,” Aemon said.
“You were so certain I would go.”
Aemon made a deprecatory gesture with his left hand. “Let us rather say that I thought it best to be prepared for the eventuality of you accepting.”
Kormak thought he caught falsehood in the king’s voice. He had been certain, but he did not want to claim that, and Kormak did not see the sense in the deception. A man like Aemon was used to getting his way. Why pretend otherwise, unless you were so corkscrew-twisted that you did such things for the sake of doing
them?
“The papers say that the bearer of this ring is my representative, and should be obeyed as they would obey me. They may prove useful if some of my servants are less than zealous in aiding you.”
Kormak understood that. There were few people in Siderea who would care to be caught obstructing the will of the king.
“The ring is a great trust,” Kormak said.
“You bore it for a short time already. Bear it for a little longer. I trust you to return it. You have already done so once.”
Aemon placed the bundle in Kormak’s hands, placed his hands together as if in prayer, gave a short bow and said, “The Pride of Siderea lies at anchor in the harbour. It will take you to Terra Nova on the first tide tomorrow. Walk in Light, Sir Kormak. May the Holy Sun watch over you.”
“And you, your majesty.”
Kormak bowed and departed. He thought about Aemon. The king was a more subtle and frightening man than he had suspected.
Chapter Five
The coach dropped Kormak and Rhiana off at the harbour. The mid-morning sun gleamed down on the docks. Gulls cawed. Fishwives bellowed the virtues of their wares. Ship’s chandlers drove small herds of pigs and goats along. Barrels of salted fish and beef added to the tang in the air. A company of soldiers assembled on the wharf. Near them stood groups of wealthy-looking men and women, flanked by bodyguards.
As they strode towards the long wooden pier, Kormak recognised one of the people waiting: Elias Zamara, who had captained the Ocean’s Blade when Kormak had sought the Kraken. Elaborate court clothing wrapped his tall, rangy body, and a large tricorne hat perched atop his handsome blonde head. He seemed to be the centre of the crowd.
Approaching the group Kormak was aware that all eyes were upon him. The nobles practically stared. Zamara grinned a welcome.
Kormak looked at him. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
Zamara performed a sweeping bow, removing his hat with a flourish. He seemed to be putting on a performance more for the nobles present than Kormak. “It is indeed. It seems we are to be shipmates once more.”
“You are going to Terra Nova?”
“I am, Sir Kormak. His Majesty has made me Admiral of the Western Ocean and Captain-General of next year’s treasure fleet.”
Kormak gave an impressed nod. Zamara had come up in the world. Once he had been merely a captain, now he would be virtually co-ruler of an Imperial province. The king had rewarded him generously for his part in the killing of the Kraken.
Of course, he was the king’s cousin. Zamara was going to be a very wealthy man; more than that, he would make an extremely useful ally. It occurred to Kormak that that might be the reason they were both setting sail today.
“I will be in command of the Pride of Siderea and all aboard.” Zamara glanced around at the watching nobles to make sure they got his meaning. “Except you, of course. You are the king’s agent.”
Zamara was going to enjoy lording it over his fellow nobles. Kormak did not blame him for it; he got the impression that the former captain had spent a good deal of time being looked down on by his wealthier compatriots. Some of the richly-dressed people smiled at him ingratiatingly. Others turned their backs on him to show they were not impressed. It was going to be an interesting trip.
“Captain Rhiana, I am charmed to see you will be travelling with us too,” Zamara said.
Rhiana smiled at him and made a faint mocking curtsey. “If only Frater Jonas were here, it would be just like old times.”
Some of the watching nobles looked away at the mention of the little priest’s name. The former inquisitor was feared by many. Zamara did not look displeased by that fact. “Indeed.”
Small craft pulled up at the dock. One by one, the soldiers and the passengers lowered themselves in. Kormak joined Zamara, Rhiana and half a dozen men garbed as ship’s officers and ventured out across the harbour.
The Pride of Siderea was one of the largest ships Kormak had ever seen, an ocean-going galleon built to bring back treasure from the colonies on the far side of the World Ocean. Three stories high, it looked more like a floating island of wood than a ship. A massive dragon’s head, large as a battering ram, emerged from its prow.
Zamara stared at it with the gaze of a man looking upon a newly-discovered lover. It was to be his flagship, no doubt, and a symbol of his command.
Cranes in the side lifted crates aboard. More and more soldiers and passengers flooded up the sides. Pipes sounded as the admiral came aboard.
Kormak was not thrilled to feel the deck of a ship beneath his feet once more.
“You look less than happy, Sir Kormak,” Zamara said. His tone was jovial, his manner lordly. “I had forgotten how little you Aquileans like ships.”
“I cannot say I am delighted by the prospect of a direct ocean crossing, even with an Imperial Windcaller aboard.”
“I would have thought that, given your profession, you would have said especially with an Imperial Windcaller aboard.” He laughed aloud and the officers present echoed his mirth. He was their commander after all, and it would do their careers good to appreciate his humour.
It struck Kormak that Aemon and Taran set the tone of their court. They were suns around which planets orbited. Zamara was now a planet, and these men were his moons. Deference was the order of the day.
Rhiana caught his eye and raised an eyebrow. She was quite clearly thinking the same as he was. She was a citizen of Port Blood, where things were far more chaotic and considerably freer.
Zamara said, “No need to be too uneasy, Sir Kormak. We will not be going directly across the ocean. Our passage takes us via the Outward Islands.” Seeing Kormak’s blank expression, he added, “We’ll be stopping at Fort Wrath to take on supplies before we catch the transoceanic trade winds.”
Kormak liked Zamara more than he liked Aemon and his brother. If he was not quite a friend, they were more than acquaintances. They had shed blood and risked their lives together. If that meant humouring him in front of this audience, Kormak did not mind.
“At least with you in command, I know we’ll make it safely back to port,” Kormak said. Some of the officers smiled at that. Others looked as if they envied him the chance to curry favour.
Zamara looked pleased, and a little suspicious. At least he had not become so used to flattery that he expected it from everyone. Kormak wondered how long that would remain the case once they got to Terra Nova and Zamara exercised his considerable power in the king’s name. No doubt there would be changes in the admiral’s personality and manner. Kormak had seen it happen before, and he doubted Zamara would be immune to the process.
Followed by his retinue, Zamara went below to find his cabin. Kormak stood by the railing and studied the hillside houses of Trefal. He was starting to feel the tug of indefinable excitement that he always felt when he was about to begin a new journey. Who knew what he would encounter this time, what wonders he would see?
Kormak heard footsteps approach, and turned to see a tall, thin, bald man walking towards him. He was better dressed than a common sailor, but worse than an officer. He wore a tunic with the symbol of the kingdom of Siderea on it, and britches of the same light blue colour. His leathery feet were bare. His face was calm. If Kormak had not known better, he would have thought the man a servant.
“Excuse me, sir, but I have been instructed to show you and to your cabin.” His voice was soft and respectful, but still somehow audible over the clamour of the ship. He was probably a sailor whose duties consisted attending the captain and his officers.
“By whom?”
“By Admiral Zamara, sir. Your cabin is waiting.” Kormak was impressed. On warships, space was always at a premium. On many, only the captain had a cabin. Even the highest-ranking officers shared theirs.
The sailor waited for Kormak’s response. Kormak looked at Rhiana.
“Captain Rhiana has her own cabin. One of my lads will be along momentarily to show her to it.” The man did not look embarrassed
, but something in his tone suggested he was. It was most likely because Rhiana was a child of the Old Ones as well as a woman. Placing a Guardian of the Dawn and a spawn of the Old Ones together in the same cabin would outrage many delicate Siderean sensibilities. For centuries, their nation had languished under the rule of the Eldrim.
“Lead on,” Kormak said. The sailor led him down a wooden staircase, and into a corridor with a ceiling so low Kormak had to duck his head. They passed some cabins with open doors, and servants bearing chests and clothes and personal effects.
“A lot of cabins,” Kormak said. The sailor turned, and gave a shrug as if he were the owner of the galleon.
“A lot of important people travel on the Pride of Siderea, sir. Administrators, generals, rich nobles. They like their privacy, and the ship has space.”
Kormak could see that was true. The Pride was more than twice the size of any ship he had previously sailed on. He wondered how well it would perform against smaller, more agile warships.
A tall, slender woman left the cabin opposite. She was at very least middle-aged. Her skin was leathery, her eyes watchful. Ivory needles pinned her spun-silver hair to the back of her head in a bun. She preserved much of the beauty she must have possessed in youth. She looked Kormak up and down and said, “A Guardian of the Dawn. This is proving to be a most interesting voyage.”
Her earrings bore elder signs. A necklace containing a wraithstone charm hung at her throat. Rings bearing various mystical runes. Sudden wariness settled on Kormak; he was in the presence of a sorceress.
“Oh, in the name of the Light, don’t look at me like that,” said the woman. “I am not going to try and enchant you. I am the ship’s windcaller.”
Her manner was imperious; she was clearly used to be being feared and obeyed. Kormak stared back at her. She held his gaze for a long time, just to let him know she could, and then she turned to look at the servant out of politeness, not fear.