Frostborn: The High Lords

by Jonathan Moeller

  The white light leapt from Kurastus’s hand and seemed to sink into Calliande’s head. She gazed at Kurastus without flinching, while the old Magistrius narrowed his eyes with concentration.

  Then his eyes grew wide and he stepped back, the light winking out.

  “So strong,” murmured Kurastus. “She is so strong…”

  “Well?” said Uthanaric.

  The Master of the Magistri shuddered and recovered himself. “My lord High King…I know not how, but the woman speaks the truth. She is the Keeper of Andomhaim, returned to us once more. I do not…”

  “Splendid,” said Uthanaric, cutting off the Master. “One wonders what you were doing with yourself for the last two hundred and twenty years, my lady Keeper.”

  “My lord High King,” said Calliande. “My work has been to prepare for this day. I knew that Tymandain Shadowbearer would summon the Frostborn back once more, so I founded the Order of the Vigilant to stand guard against their threat. I feared that the servants of Shadowbearer would corrupt the apprentices of the Keeper, so I put myself into a deep sleep, planning to awaken on the day of the omen of the blue fire, the day Shadowbearer could summon forth the Frostborn once more.”

  Uthanaric raised his gray eyebrows. “It seemed you failed, my lady.”

  “I fear so, my lord High King,” said Calliande without hesitation. “The Order of the Vigilant was destroyed, and I almost perished. Yet Ridmark Arban slew both Mournacht and Tymandain Shadowbearer upon the slopes of the Black Mountain. I thought that victory was ours…but Imaria Licinius forsook the Magistri and claimed the mantle and title of Shadowbearer for herself, and she opened the gate and summoned the Frostborn once more.”

  “It seems, Gareth,” said Uthanaric, “that your youngest daughter is a traitor.”

  The Dux of the Northerland’s face could have been carved from stone. “I saw the murder and treachery she worked with my own eyes, my lord. If she falls into my power, I will execute her myself.”

  Arandar shuddered, Nyvane’s face flashing before his eyes. He tried to imagine killing his own daughter, and he could not. Even if she had committed crimes as black as those of Imaria Shadowbearer, Arandar could not bring himself to do it.

  Gareth Licinius had good reason to look so grim.

  “She became a traitor and a servant of dark powers,” said Calliande, “because she was lured into this corruption by Tarrabus Carhaine and the cult of the Enlightened.”

  “A slander,” said Tarrabus with perfect calm. “The Keepers of old did not involve themselves in the politics of the realm, but Calliande has chosen to ally herself with Gareth Licinius. To cover Gareth’s failure with Imaria, she parrots the lies of Ridmark Arban.” He smiled at her. “Likely it is because of her own unrequited lust for the Gray Knight.”

  Ridmark stirred at that, but Calliande did not even blink.

  “Given your own affair with Imaria Licinius,” said Calliande, “that is a bold accusation to make, my lord Dux. Maybe your own caddish cruelty drove her to the Enlightened…”

  “Enough,” snapped Uthanaric. “I care nothing for these sordid intrigues. The Keeper of Andomhaim you are, so execute your office. You shall have a voice in my councils, and you will help us to defeat the Frostborn.”

  “I shall, my lord,” said Calliande. Her face gave no hint of her thoughts. Arandar found himself surprised as how quickly she had assumed a regal mien, but realized that he shouldn’t be. She had been the Keeper long before he had been born, and knew how to conduct herself around the lords of Andomhaim.

  “Good,” said Uthanaric. “Now. Let us meet Queen Mara of Nightmane Forest.” He beckoned. “Please come forward.”

  Mara walked towards the dais, a slight figure in blue dark elven armor, her pale blond hair and delicate features making her seem ethereal. Jager stayed at her side, and Qhazulak and a half-dozen Anathgrimm flanked her as she stopped before the dais. The nobles and knights stirred as the Anathgrimm approached, some of them reaching for their swords.

  Uthanaric remained unperturbed. “I told you to come, Queen Mara. Not your soldiers.”

  Qhazulak growled. “We guard the Queen, human king.”

  “Even from me?” said Uthanaric.

  “If necessary,” said Qhazulak.

  Arandar expected the High King to take offense at that, but instead the old man threw back his head and laughed.

  “Indeed?” said Uthanaric. “You are to be commended for your loyalty, Anathgrimm. Pity it is such a rare quality among humans.” He seized his cane and heaved himself to his feet, Excalibur tapping against his leg in its sheath. Again Kaldraine came forward to help his father, and again Uthanaric waved him off. Kaldraine stepped back, gripping the arm of the curule chair for a moment, and then returned to his previous position.

  Arandar blinked. Was Kaldraine sick as well?

  Uthanaric stopped at the edge of the dais, gazing down at Mara, who looked right back at up at him. Jager stared to say something, but Mara’s left hand twitched, and the halfling fell silent.

  “You are,” said Uthanaric at last, “such a small thing.”

  “It has proven useful on more than one occasion,” said Mara.

  Uthanaric’s lip twitched. “You truly slew the Traveler?”

  “I did,” said Mara. “I stabbed him in the back in Khald Azalar, and then cut his throat.”

  “Why?” said Uthanaric.

  “Because he was a monster,” said Mara. “Because he took my mother and made her a slave. Because he wanted to seize the power of the Keeper for himself. Because he was cruel beyond measure, and tormented generations beyond count, long before humans ever came to Andomhaim. Because I wanted to make right some of the evil that he worked.” She shrugged. “Also, he was trying to kill me and my friends at the time.”

  A little ripple of surprised laughter went up from the nearest nobles.

  “A good enough reason,” said Uthanaric. “How are you still alive, by the by? I was given to understand that a human with dark elven blood will inevitably become a monster.”

  “This is so, my lord High King,” said Kurastus, gazing at Mara with a frown. “By rights, a woman of…ah, Queen Mara’s age should have become an urdhracos or an urshane by now.”

  “Mara is something new, High King,” said Calliande. “When the darkness of her dark elven blood threatened to consume her, she instead mastered it. There has never been anyone else like her in the history of this world. Not even the Warden of Urd Morlemoch nor the archmage Ardrhythain himself knew what to make of her, and Mara’s cunning allowed us to escape from Urd Morlemoch.”

  “You seem a singular woman, Queen Mara,” said Uthanaric. “Almost as singular as your Prince Consort.” He turned his hard gaze to Jager. “I have heard your name, Prince Consort Jager.”

  Jager offered a florid bow to the High King. “My fame has spread far and wide, it seems.”

  “As I recall,” said Uthanaric, “your father was executed for murder, and you burned down the domus of Sir Alan Tallmane in retaliation.”

  “Those facts are entirely correct,” said Jager. “However, they are incomplete. Paul Tallmane murdered an innocent man. My father, to protect the noble family he loved, agreed to take the blame for the crime. In repayment, Sir Alan Tallmane had him executed to cover up his misdeeds. So in retribution for my father’s murder, I burned down Sir Alan's domus and robbed him. It seemed a small enough wergild for my father’s life. And given Paul Tallmane’s later crimes, if Sir Alan and Dux Tarrabus had managed even a modicum of concern for justice, much later evil would have been averted.”

  An angry buzz came from the nobles, but to Arandar’s surprise, Uthanaric laughed.

  “A blunt tongue you have, my prince of the halflings,” said Uthanaric.

  Qhazulak grunted. “Unquestionably.”

  “Keep him close, Queen Mara,” said Uthanaric.

  Mara smiled. “I plan to.”

  “The longer you wear a crown, the harder it is to find people brav
e enough to speak the truth,” said Uthanaric. “Join me upon the dais.”

  Mara blinked, but climbed the steps, the High King towering over her like a craggy shadow. Uthanaric took Mara’s hand and half-bowed over it, planting a quick kiss upon her knuckles. Mara blinked in surprise, and Uthanaric straightened up and turned to address the hall.

  “Let it be known,” said Uthanaric, “that this woman has done a tremendous service to the realm of Andomhaim. The Traveler and his warriors have been an enemy to the High Kingdom since time immemorial, and she has slain him and ended his wickedness at last. Not only that, but she has redeemed the Anathgrimm.” He looked at Qhazulak. “You considered killing yourself once the Traveler was dead, I assume?”

  “We…pondered it, human king,” said Qhazulak. “We hated and feared the Traveler, but he was our god. Yet the Prince Consort offered us a new path forward, and the Queen agreed to serve as our Queen.”

  “Did you?” said Uthanaric. “Clever.”

  Jager smiled and offered another bow. “Well, I thought seeing several thousand Anathgrimm kill themselves in front of her might upset my wife, and no rational man wants an upset wife.”

  “Indeed not,” said Uthanaric. He turned his gaze back upon the hall. “Let it be known that I, Uthanaric Pendragon, High King of Andomhaim and Lord of Tarlion, accept Queen Mara’s offer of alliance. I furthermore declare that she is my sister monarch, equal in rank and dignity to the kings of Rhaluusk, Khaluusk, and Mhorluusk. I will not permit any attacks upon an ally of the realm,” he looked at Tarrabus, “nor upon her officers and magistrates. Such as her magister militum, to choose an example.”

  “Thank you, lord High King,” said Mara. “That is…most gracious.”

  Uthanaric snorted. “You have thousands of Anathgrimm at your command. Of course I shall be gracious. Please return to your Guard, Queen Mara. We have a war to plan.”

  Mara hesitated, and then nodded and rejoined Jager and the Anathgrimm below the dais.

  “The Frostborn are coming, my lord and knights,” said Uthanaric. He dropped back into the curule chair with a grunt, his stiff right leg stretched out before him. “We must meet them in battle and crush them. Furthermore, we must act now. If history is our guide, it will take the Frostborn some time to consolidate their conquests in the Northerland and prepare themselves to strike south.”

  “You speak truly, my lord High King,” said Calliande. “If we are to defeat the Frostborn, it must be soon.”

  “A council of war shall meet here tonight,” said Uthanaric. “We will plan our strategy against the Frostborn, and my Duxi shall attend me, as will the Prince of Cintarra and the Masters of the Two Orders. The Kings of Rhaluusk, Khaluusk, and Mhorluusk are invited, as if the Queen of Nightmane Forest. Until then, I dismiss you from my presence. Attend to your vassals and men-at-arms, my lord. We shall soon march.”

  Arandar hesitated, and then decided to act. Uthanaric had ignored him throughout the entire audience, and Arandar might never again have this chance.

  “My lord High King!” called Arandar. “I beg leave to speak of a matter of grave import.”

  Uthanaric turned a look of sheer irritation towards him, as did Prince Kaldraine.

  “If anyone has earned the right to speak, it is Sir Arandar,” said Calliande. “He faced the Warden and the Traveler and Mournacht and Shadowbearer, and without his aid I would not have survived to address you today.”

  Uthanaric sighed. “Very well. What is it, Sir Arandar?”

  Part of Arandar raged that his own father would disregard him. He shoved aside the fury. It would do nothing to aid Accolon.

  “My lord High King,” said Arandar. “As you will recall, my son was falsely accused of the murder of Sir Linus Rillon.”

  “A vassal of mine,” said Tarrabus, “and your son struck the blow that slew him.”

  “Aye, I deny it not,” said Arandar, “but my son acted to defend innocents from Sir Linus’s cruelty.”

  “I recall the case,” said Uthanaric. “I believed Tarrabus agreed to abandon all charges if you returned alive from Urd Morlemoch with the lost soulblade of Judicaeus Carhaine.”

  “I did,” said Arandar.

  “Yet I see no soulblade,” said Tarrabus.

  “Because I gave it to a worthy man,” said Arandar, “to make of him a Swordbearer in a desperate hour.” He beckoned and Gavin stepped forward, his eyes wide. “This is Gavin of Aranaeus, my lord High King. Even before I met him, he faced an urdmordar of the Wilderland armed with nothing but his courage and his wits, and helped the Gray Knight slay the creature. To escape from Urd Morlemoch, I bonded Truthseeker to him, and made him into a Swordbearer. He slew an urvuul in single combat, and has done deeds of great daring since.”

  “Well, Sir Gavin,” said Uthanaric. “What have you to say for yourself?”

  Gavin hesitated, and seemed to take a moment to collect his thoughts. “My lord…ah, it sounds more impressive than it really was. I started following the Gray Knight because I wanted to save my neighbors from the urdmordar Agrimnalazur. It…well, got out of hand after that. I did all those things Sir Arandar said, but I was scared out of my mind for most of it, and didn’t want to make a fool of myself.”

  Laughter rang up, but it was good-natured. Nearly all of the nobles of Andomhaim had been in battle at one time or another, so they understood what Gavin meant.

  “Many a great warrior would say as much,” said Uthanaric.

  “It seems we have a new brother to welcome to the Order,” said the Master of the Order of the Soulblade, a hard-bitten old Swordbearer named Marhand. “Traditionally, such a time calls for a feast.”

  Gavin’s eyes got wide at that.

  “Though such formalities will have to wait until the Frostborn are defeated,” said Marhand.

  “My lord High King, I have fulfilled this quest,” said Arandar. “I went into Urd Morlemoch and returned alive with Truthseeker. Now I demand that Dux Tarrabus keep his word, lift his charges against my son, and release him to me.”

  “Well, Tarrabus,” said Uthanaric. “It seems you are bound by your given word. I suggest you keep it.”

  “Of course, my King,” said Tarrabus. “Sir Arandar’s son remains in Tarlion. I shall send a message at once ordering his release.”

  Arandar frowned. Nyvane and Miriam had said that Accolon was in the camp, and Arandar saw no reason to disbelieve them. He opened his mouth to protest, but Ridmark caught his eye and shook his head. If Tarrabus realized that Arandar knew that Accolon was nearby, the Dux of Caerdracon might murder the boy at once.

  “Satisfied, Sir Arandar?” said Uthanaric.

  “Yes, my lord High King,” said Arandar.

  “How splendid,” said Uthanaric. “Ridmark Arban, I suggest you remain with the Anathgrimm. I will be displeased if you provoke further quarrels with Tarrabus and his men.”

  Without another word, the High King staggered to his feet and disappeared through the door, the Crown Prince and the Masters and the other knights and men-at-arms following.

  The audience was over.

  Chapter 12: Nest of Vipers

  Ridmark let out a long, ragged breath, preparing himself to fight.

  It proved unnecessary.

  He expected Tarrabus to protest, to take action, but the Dux of Caerdracon strode for the doors, his vassals and knights falling in around him. The Duxi who supported Tarrabus and their vassals followed as well, dispersing into the courtyard and heading back to their camps outside the walls of Dun Calpurnia.

  There was a fight coming with Tarrabus, Ridmark knew…but it would not begin today.

  Gareth conferred with Ridmark’s father for a moment, along with the Prince of Cintarra and the Dux Kors Durius of Durandis, a squat, paunchy man with a massive scowl behind his gray beard and arms that looked as if they could lift an anvil. At last Gareth nodded, and Leogrance Arban, the Prince, and the Dux of Durandis departed, joined by their men.

  Ridmark looked at his father, but
his father did not look back.

  “What now?” said Caius.

  “We ought to return to the Anathgrimm,” said Ridmark. He wanted to make sure that Miriam and Nyvane had reached the Anathgrimm safely, and they needed to prepare the Anathgrimm to act.

  The crisis had not come today…but it would likely come tomorrow.

  Especially since Ridmark’s own plans might trigger it.

  “A moment,” said Calliande. “We need to confer with Dux Gareth before we proceed.”

  She waited as the nobles filed out, leaving Ridmark alone with Calliande and Gareth and the others. Of course, with the Anathgrimm guarding Mara, they still made for quite a crowd.

  “Mara,” said Calliande as Gareth and Sir Constantine moved to her side. “Can you ask the Anathgrimm to keep watch on the doors? We need to have candid words with the Dux, and I would rather we were not overheard.”

  “Please do as she asks, Qhazulak,” said Mara.

  The Champion of Nightmane Forest grunted, and gestured to his warriors. The Anathgrimm split up, moving to guard the main doors to the courtyard and the door behind the dais.

  “That could have gone better,” said Gareth, shaking his head.

  “It could have gone worse as well,” said Caius. “The High King could have favored Tarrabus, or refused to believe that Calliande was the Keeper, or ordered Ridmark’s execution, or rebuffed the friendship of Nightmane Forest.”

  Qhazulak growled. “The human king would be a fool to rebuff the Queen’s friendship.”

  “That, Lord Captain, is the infuriating thing about our High King,” said Gareth. “He is not a stupid man. He is neither a cruel nor a bad man. He is instead…”

  “Moody?” suggested Jager.

  “Mercurial,” said Kharlacht.

  “And capable of refusing to see the obvious,” said Arandar in a quiet voice, “if he doesn’t want to see it.”

  “At times his refusal to see the obvious beggars belief,” said Gareth. “The evidence against Tarrabus is tremendous. I have spoken against him. Comes Corbanic has spoken against him, as have a headman of Rhaluusk and Sir Marcast Tetricus. Hundreds of witnesses saw the Mhorites in Tarrabus’s domus at Coldinium, and there is the…proof of my own treacherous daughter. It is well known that she and Tarrabus were close,” his mouth twisted, “before she became the new Shadowbearer.”