The Black King (Book 7)

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

  She sighed. “I know. But we only have a few resources to deal with an army of this size. One of those resources is you. The other is Skya whose abilities are limited because of her Warder’s magick. You’re exhausted, and Skya’s working on more important projects.”

  “What’s more important than saving lives?” Coulter snapped.

  “It’ll take the army at least two more days to reach Constant. Then they’ll have to set up, because the Fey like to attack at dawn. So nothing will happen for three days.”

  Gift was watching her closely. Coulter’s face was slowly turning red. He was getting very angry.

  “By the time they’re ready to attack, we’ll already have defeated Rugad. Then we can call them off.”

  “And what if we aren’t successful?” Coulter snapped. “We just leave our friends to an ugly death?”

  She looked at him. “We send Lesley to them tomorrow morning, after he’s rested. Beak assures me that he’s trustworthy, and I think he’s proven that today. Leen and Scavenger know how to fight the Fey. They also know how to use some of the tools in the Place of Power. They should be able to rally a defense.”

  Coulter took a deep breath, as if he were suppressing anger.

  “Coulter,” Gift said softly, “look at it this way. If we use your strength to destroy this army then we lose the fight to Rugad, he’ll just go after Constant again. Only the next time, he’ll be even more vicious than he was before.”

  “I’m trying to save as many lives as possible,” Arianna said. “This seems like the best solution.”

  Coulter walked to the railing. He stared ahead as if he could see through the fog and the dark, as if that army was so close that he could hear them.

  Gift put his hand on Arianna’s arm. “It’s a good plan. I trust you have one for Jahn as well?”

  “Part of one. I was hoping that we wouldn’t have to face any ground troops.”

  Coulter walked back to them. The heightened coloring had left his cheeks and he was as pale as he had been before. “When you send Lesley, tell him to talk to Matt. Even though Matt won’t be healed, he’ll have to fight. It’s the only way everyone will survive. And Matt will have to enlist the help of Alex.”

  “The boy in the Vault?” Gift asked.

  “It might be easier than any of you think. If Alex uses all the power at his disposal, Rugad’s army won’t stand a chance.”

  “As long as he doesn’t attack our friends who happen to be Fey at the same time,” Gift said.

  “Matt’s aware of that problem,” Coulter said.

  “I’ll warn Lesley all the same,” Arianna said.

  Coulter nodded. “You were right, Ari. This is the only way it’s going to work.”

  “I know,” she said.

  FIFTY-NINE

  DIPALMET FOUND HIMSELF in the South Tower, his stomach churning. He had gotten up a half hour before dawn. He had eaten a hurried breakfast, spoken to the Domestics who were working the kitchen, and then received word that Arianna wanted to see him. Usually their first meeting wasn’t until mid-morning, but ever since the attack that first meeting kept getting earlier and earlier.

  He wasn’t enjoying the orders he was receiving either.

  “Are you listening?” Arianna snapped.

  He hadn’t been. He had been wishing he was somewhere else, even though he could see the dawn through the east windows. It was one of Blue Isle’s most spectacular dawns—the golds and pinks mingling against a faint blue sky. Maybe if he were alone, he would enjoy it. Maybe if he weren’t thinking about troop counts and ship orders and—

  “DiPalmet?” Arianna was standing with her back to that splendid sunrise. She had moved the tables and chairs out of the way as if she found them a nuisance. He wondered how much time she spent up here.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I haven’t had any root tea this morning.”

  She sighed. “You are my assistant. That means you should be ready whenever I summon you.”

  I’m here, aren’t I? he wanted to say, but he didn’t. He knew better. “I’ll endeavor to improve.”

  “Do we need to start again?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “You want me to send for troops from Galinas, along with fifteen ships—”

  “For the first trip,” she said. “I’ll order more in the future.”

  “And you would like to reassemble these military companies.” He listed the dozen companies she mentioned. She was very well informed about Fey history, but sometimes she seemed vague about the present.

  “So you were paying attention,” she said. “You just looked like you weren’t listening.”

  He shrugged. Listening was a talent of his. Sometimes he heard more than he wanted to, even when he wasn’t trying.

  “Arianna,” he said.

  She smiled. “Whenever you use that tone, you’re going to reprimand me.”

  “I was just wondering if you—I mean, most of those companies haven’t been assembled since the Nye campaign. The original armies will be elderly. We’re going to have to tap progeny, or find someone to recreate them.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. He watched her eyes go from dark blue to light and back to dark. He wondered what caused that, then decided he didn’t want to know.

  “The companies are legendary,” she said. “If we can find the original leaders, we’ll be doing well. We’ll have those Leaders reform the companies with the best soldiers they can find, soldiers of all types, and then send those companies here.”

  “There are units that have been fighting border skirmishes all through the Empire.” DiPalmet knew that because he had checked with some of the Fey who had come over with Bridge. “Perhaps these units should also be in the first wave.”

  “And then who will protect our borders?” she asked.

  “Theoretically, our borders should be sound.”

  “You just told me there were skirmishes.”

  “It’s just if you plan to conquer Leut,” he said, “you should have the best possible troop compliment. I’m not an expert, of course, but it would seem to me that to go in with strength is the right way.”

  “I suppose it would seem that way to you.” She crossed her arms. “But I’m not sending the troops immediately. I will make sure they are properly trained.”

  That felt like another reprimand. “Of course.”

  “And I will be the one commanding them.” Her eyes twinkled when she said that. She raised her chin slightly, as if she expected him to decry the wisdom of that idea.

  “I expected as much,” he lied. She had no military experience. She was more foolish than he thought.

  “You expected it, but you don’t like it.”

  He shrugged. “My opinion is nothing.”

  Her smile broadened. “At least on matters like this.”

  There was a knock on the door, and then, without Arianna’s response, the door opened. A Domestic leaned her head inside. “I’m sorry, but there’s a Wisp here. She says she’s from a ship you sent toward Constant. I thought it sounded important.”

  Arianna glanced at DiPalmet. He wasn’t sure, but he had a hunch she was as surprised at this news as he was.

  “It is important,” Arianna said. “Send her in.”

  The Domestic stood aside. The Wisp entered. She looked delicate, like all Wisps, and her wings were tattered at the edges. She had flown hard.

  She bowed her head when she saw Arianna. No one was certain any more which customs to follow, Fey or Islander, so they used a combination of both.

  “Your news?” Arianna asked.

  The Wisp raised her head. Her skin was gray with fatigue but her eyes were still bright. “Early yesterday, our ships came upon the Black Heir’s ship, the Tashka. It attacked us without warning, using fireballs and Weather Sprite magick. We expected to sail past so we were undefended. Our ships sank rapidly. I have no idea how many died. Grantley sent me to inform the Infantry and to let you know. He said that you should understa
nd the Black Heir is on a rampage, and you should act accordingly.”

  DiPalmet’s already unsettled stomach turned again. This was the Blood everyone had been talking about. It had finally arrived.

  “Was the Black Heir on the ship?” Arianna seemed calm.

  “I don’t know,” the Wisp said. “We assume so. It is his ship, after all.”

  “No one saw him?”

  “It was foggy until the fireballs launched.” The Wisp’s wings trembled as if the memory disturbed her.

  The whole concept disturbed DiPalmet. Why would the Black Heir attack defenseless ships?

  “Who launched the fireballs?” Arianna asked in that same dispassionate voice.

  “I don’t know,” the Wisp said.

  “You didn’t see it?”

  “I did,” she said. “It was an Islander. I don’t know who.”

  Arianna’s expression flattened. DiPalmet was beginning to realize that showed a repressed anger. “How old?”

  The Wisp shrugged.

  “A boy?”

  “No,” the Wisp said. “A man full grown. I can’t judge their ages better than that.”

  “You don’t have to.” Arianna turned to DiPalmet. “Have you ever seen my brother’s friend Coulter?”

  “I haven’t,” DiPalmet said, but he’d heard stories. He’d even heard the rumor that Arianna and Coulter had been in love. Judging by the coldness in her tone, that was not true.

  “It sounds like my brother went to Constant to get Coulter. There’s more going on here than we thought, DiPalmet.”

  DiPalmet already had that sense.

  Arianna turned her attention back to the Wisp. “You warned the Infantry?”

  “I did,” the Wisp said. “But they’re really not prepared to fight a ship. They’ll do what they can.”

  “You warned them that the Black Heir might be on board?”

  “Grantley told me to let them know that the Black Heir had gone crazy and was on the attack. He didn’t want them to show the Heir reverence.”

  “They have to show him some,” DiPalmet said. “They don’t want to kill a member of the Black Family.”

  The Wisp’s wings were vibrating. “He didn’t tell me to clarify that.”

  “Let’s hope they already know that,” Arianna said without conviction. “You’ve done what you can. I appreciate the report. Go to the Infantry barracks. One of my officers will debrief you.”

  The Wisp nodded crisply and then left.

  Arianna watched her go. DiPalmet was swallowing hard, trying to force down the nervousness that was eating him alive.

  “My brother insists on making things difficult,” Arianna said without turning around.

  “So it would seem,” DiPalmet said.

  “We’re going to have to contain him before he can bring on the Blood.”

  DiPalmet waited.

  Arianna turned. Her eyes were bright. Instead of being upset by this news, she seemed almost elated. “I doubt the Infantry will be able to stop him, not if he has an Enchanter on board. We’ll have to prepare for him here.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Send the remaining troops to the waterfront. Let them all know that he’s a renegade.”

  DiPalmet nodded.

  “Have those without magick use bow and arrow. Use only Bird Riders to attack the ship. Let our people know that Gift should not be killed. He must be captured alive.”

  “If they use bow and arrow, there’s no guarantee that he won’t get hit before anyone storms the ship.”

  Arianna shrugged. “My brother is a smart man. He’ll understand the dangers and protect himself accordingly.”

  “What if you’re wrong?” DiPalmet asked.

  “I am not ordering his death, DiPalmet,” she said coldly. “I want to know why he believes that he can attack us without consequences. I also want to know if he is working alone.”

  “You know how dangerous this is?” DiPalmet asked.

  That flash in her eyes was so full of fury that he almost took a step back. “It is my job to worry about such things. Not yours.”

  He nodded.

  “Trust this, DiPalmet,” she said. “I’m the one protecting the Empire. I won’t do anything to harm it.”

  He wanted to trust it. But he was getting to the point where he wasn’t sure he could trust anything any more.

  SIXTY

  ARIANNA TOOK SHALLOW BREATHS, trying not to make a sound. Sebastian had once shown her that, in this body, she could survive without breathing at all, but she hadn’t been able to manage it. Seger said that Arianna expected to breathe, so she had to breathe. Now she wished she had learned the lesson.

  The ship glided silently through the river. Fog enshrouded them so tightly that the air almost glowed. It was very cold. Only the people who needed to be were on deck: the Sailors, the Navigator, the Weather Sprites, Gift, Coulter and Arianna. Everyone else had opted to ride out this part of the journey below deck. Gift had allowed them to do so; if they were above and made too much noise, the Fey army would know that a ship was passing.

  There was no actual fog on the deck. Since the fog was a Weather Sprite creation, they could dictate where it went. It surrounded the boat, but did not permeate it. If Arianna hadn’t known that the ship was moving, she wouldn’t have believed it. Everything was eerie, as if they had stepped out of time somehow and were existing in a world where there was nothing except the ship and the grayness surrounding it.

  A couple of the less competent Bird Riders had flown ahead and were holding position, promising to let the ship know when they had passed the army.

  Arianna had also asked the Sailors if there were any water creatures that could surface and tell them the same things. The Sailors weren’t sure, but they would ask. Their task was doubly difficult right now. They had to make sure the ship was following the correct river channel, and they had to make sure they did not make any sounds.

  Instead of dampening sound, the fog seemed to make it worse. She had spent her entire time on deck listening to the laughter and camaraderie coming from the shore. The conversations held in Fey, the bawdiness, the smells of camp food were, in many ways, reassuring. It meant that the Infantry was not traveling night and day to get to Constant.

  It meant that she still had some time.

  The voices had faded a while back and so had some of the clanging. Still, she didn’t believe in letting herself go too soon. She needed confirmation that they were past the army before she so much as moved.

  Then she saw a Bird Rider land on deck, followed by another. The second Rider landed on Gift’s shoulder, making him start. The Rider, another sparrow, leaned toward Gift and seemed to be speaking to him. He turned to the first Rider and said something so softly that Arianna couldn’t hear him.

  Slowly she made her way across the deck toward her brother. He was already walking in her direction, coming not to her, but to the Weather Sprites.

  “The Riders say we’ve passed them,” he said to the main Sprite as Arianna reached them. “Continue the fog for another hundred yards and then let us emerge from it. Can you keep the fog back there until dawn?”

  “Of course,” the Sprite said, sounding a bit offended that Gift had even asked.

  “Good,” Gift said.

  “Are you sure the Riders are accurate?” Arianna asked.

  Gift nodded. “These two may not have the abilities that Beak and Lesley do, but they are reliable.”

  She wished she had made the decision for herself, but she said nothing. It was impossible to have two leaders give orders and this was Gift’s ship. She would let him take care of most of the decisions.

  The ship emerged from the fog into a clear cold night. The sky was filled with stars and a pale sliver of a moon. The water looked black, and the mountains were mere shadows in the distance.

  Arianna looked toward the shore, but saw nothing. She didn’t expect to see much—it was too dark for that. But she heard nothing either.
And if Rugad’s army had been there, she would have heard someone—a sentry, a startled Infantryman up to take a pee—call out that he’d seen a ship.

  One more hurdle passed.

  Then a Gull Rider burst out of the fog, and sprawled across the deck. Coulter stood over it as if he were afraid it came from the army, but Gift held his arm.

  The Rider shifted into her Fey form, and suddenly Beak was standing before them. Gift removed his cloak and wrapped it around her. She smiled gratefully. Her face was pinched, her skin mottled red and gray. She seemed to have a chill or some kind of windburn. Feathers littered the deck.

  Arianna had never seen a Gull Rider look so exhausted.

  “Well?” Gift asked.

  “Somehow Grantley sent warning that we were coming.” Beak’s voice was hoarse. Arianna had to step closer to hear the words. “What’s left of the Infantry is being deployed at the shores of the Cardidas. The word is that this is a renegade ship. Some don’t even believe you are on it, Gift.”

  Arianna glanced at him. He was frowning.

  “The idea being circulated is that some rebels, half of them Islander and half of them Fey, are trying to destroy the peace. The attack on the palace was the first volley. The attack on the ships in the Cardidas was the second. The Black Queen—” and then Beak bobbed her head toward Arianna “—beg pardon, ma’am, but that’s how they’re referring to Rugad—the Black Queen wants to stop this rebellion before it becomes a full-fledged war.”

  “So destroying Constant and sinking this ship will accomplish that?” Gift asked.

  “The soldiers think so. I think it sounds like a tremendous excuse to get rid of you.” Beak shivered. Her eyes had sunken into her face. “All of you.”

  “Rugad can’t give orders to destroy this ship knowing who is on it,” Arianna said. “No matter what the armies think.”

  “Rugad has ordered that the ship is to be captured, not sunk, and that prisoners should be taken. But the folks that were gathering on the shoreline when I left did not look like the kind who were organized enough to take prisoners.”