The Queen's assassin tc-3

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The Queen's assassin tc-3 Page 4

by William King


  "We are still here," he said.

  "Only just," she replied.

  "You do not sound very triumphant."

  "Let idiots like Elakar make speeches about victory. I know, you know and Azaar knows that the real war has only just begun."

  "You think the Dark Empire will intervene soon."

  "We both know that it has intervened already. You fought with the Nerghul in Morven. You saw what their agent Zarahel got up to in the mountains. I just wonder what their next surprise will be. I fear it will not be long till we find out."

  Rik was forced to agree. She smiled brightly. “Now, let us continue your education in the principles of sorcery.”

  “No rest for the wicked,” said Rik.

  “No rest indeed.”

  Chapter Four

  Rik looked out the window as the coach approached Parliament Square. Its wheels clattered jarringly on the cobblestones. Above Karim, Asea’s deadly South-born body-guard, rode beside the driver, his bow in his hand even here. A month after its fall Halim was still dangerous enough to require that. Some of the crowd filling the square looked well-off but there were plenty of starving people who knew their situation was only going to get worse as winter approached. Their pinched faces and patched clothes contrasted with the graceful lines of the beautiful old buildings. Halim was an enormous city, constructed on a monumental scale. It had been built to be the new capital of the Terrarch Empire only a few years before that Empire had torn itself apart. Now it had a curiously sick and sinister look, like an age-ravaged beauty dressed in the gown bought in a more prosperous year.

  The coach swept them into the square. On its western side, the Temple's great dragonspire rose towards the sun. To the north lay the vast colonnaded frontage of the parliament building. To the east was the Royal Palace. It was a fairly traditional arrangement found in all the old cities of the Terrarchs. All of the buildings were gigantic, and had a curiously decayed look. Their upkeep was patchy at best but they had been built to intimidate, and they performed that function still. The sheer size of them spoke of the permanence and power of Terrarch rule. Humans had never built anything so big or so beautiful. For all their size they had a loveliness of line that moved the heart. In niches in the walls, enormous statues of Terrarch saints and dragon-riders and heroes gazed down upon the living, dwarfing them, reminding them of who ruled this world, and why.

  Beside Rik, Asea sat garbed in formal courtly attire. Her hair was piled high revealing her pointed ears. Subtle makeup accentuated her large eyes, high cheekbones and broad-lips. The price of the jewelled Elder Signs around her throat could have fed the whole crowded square for a week. Rik studied them with the interest of a former professional thief. In his earlier life he would never have believed it possible he could be sitting so close to a queen's ransom and yet have no designs to steal it. How things change, he thought.

  "Nervous?" Asea asked. She sounded like a bright young woman going to her first ball, not the two thousand year old near-immortal she in fact was. Her constant shifts of mood and image were hard for him to grasp. He had expected a formidable being set in her ways, not this mercurial personality. He suspected that if you dug deep enough you would find that truesteel core, but she was adept at hiding it. He supposed she had enough time to practise that.

  "No," he lied. He had been less nervous on nights when he had risked his life on a big theft or before a battle. Today, he was going to be ritually presented to Princess Kathea, now formally in residence in her Palace and awaiting the high holy day of her coronation, and he was uncomfortably aware that she, even more than Asea, was in a position to change his life. She could grant him rewards beyond the wildest imaginings of a street boy from Sorrow.

  He ran his mind over the rituals Asea's Master of Etiquette had taught him. He knew exactly how close he should come to the royal presence and exactly how deeply he should bow. He knew he was not to raise his face until the Queen-to-be told him he could look upon her countenance. He was certain he knew what he was doing. He had a good memory for such things. He had been told he could keep wearing his sword. It was a mark of special favour for a half-breed like him. He supposed the future Queen must trust him. After all, if he had wanted her dead, he could have killed her at any time during their long trek back to Morven after their escape from the Serpent Tower.

  "You look very handsome," said Asea. He ought to. She had spent a fortune on the clothes he wore. He could sell this gold-braided dark red tunic for enough money to feed a family outside for months. He stroked the trim on the folded cuff with the fingers of his right hand.

  "You are going to have to stop doing that," she said.

  "Doing what?"

  "Thinking about how much the clothes cost. A Terrarch Aristal never does."

  "Are you reading my thoughts, Milady? I thought you said the Elder Signs you provided me with would prevent such a thing." He smiled so that she would know he was joking.

  "No, Rik. It's just I have come to know you quite well over the past few months." For a man as secretive as he was, it was terrifying to contemplate that someone could read him so well, but if anyone ought to be able to do so, it was Asea. She had centuries of experience of the moods and body language of mortals. How much of her apparently magical divinatory abilities were simply the result of those ages of experience, he wondered?

  "Are we so transparent to you?" he asked.

  "You are anything but transparent, Rik. There is as much guesswork as certainty in my observations." He wondered whether that was true or if she was just flattering him to put him off guard. He wondered whether she could read those thoughts in his face too. If she could she gave no sign.

  "I was thinking about the cost of the clothes," he said, not quite sure why he was letting her confirm the accuracy of her observations.

  "Don't."

  "I am not a Terrarch Aristal."

  "You will be soon. You will be adopted into my house. I have already written to Queen Arielle asking for the patent." Despite himself he was surprised. It must have shown on his face.

  "I told you I would," she said. "I always keep my promises. For good or ill."

  That was true, too. She paid all her debts, of honour as well as blood. Rik decided that now was as good a time as any to ask her what was on his mind.

  “Why has Kathea not been crowned? If it were up to me, she would have been made Queen as soon as we took the city?”

  Asea smiled. “There are two reasons.”

  “And the first is?”

  “That Terrarch coronations always occur on the Feast of Saint Balthazar. It is auspicious and we are a very conservative people.”

  “I suspect that is not the main reason.”

  “And your suspicions are correct. Invitations have been sent to every Aristal family in Kharadrea. There must be time for all of them to receive and acknowledge those invitations. Those who do not attend will be known as traitors to the crown. Their properties will be forfeit. A number of our Talorean noble families are looking forward to increasing their estates in Kharadrea. Such things must always be done according to correct legal procedure.”

  “You expect that some families will not attend.”

  “I am certain of it.”

  The blare of golden trumpets announced their arrival. They passed through the great archway into the inner court of the Royal Palace. A moment later the destriers pulling the coach came to a stop and liveried footmen put the wooden steps into place that would allow them to get down from the interior with ease.

  Rik got down first and then helped Asea to descend. The flowing, belled skirts of her billowing gown were not exactly practical for such purposes. They strode along the crimson hued carpet and under the arched doorway. A Palace servant greeted them fawningly and began to lead them through the maze of corridors.

  Rik took his cue from Asea, keeping his face bland and blank and letting a slight smile quirk his lips. He tried to look as if he had grown up surrounded by such wealth and sa
w it every day when, in reality, the only time he had ever seen its like before was when he was burgling mansions in Sorrow.

  Yet again he found himself valuing things as he walked along. The paintings, by Scorelle, were worth thousands each. The gold leaved frames could probably buy his clothes. These were mostly famous scenes from history — great battles and conflicts, the surrenders of rebel Generals to King Orodruine. Given the fractious and factional nature of Kharadrean politics, there was no shortage of such scenes in the nation's history, although the number of dragon-winged angels who beamed down on the King's victories rather punctured any pretensions to realism. If truth had been told, the impression given was entirely misleading. Orodruine had not been a warrior king, or a successful general. For a good deal of his long reign his realm had been a battleground on which the warring armies of Talorea and Sardea had clashed. For the rest of its history he had mostly been in thrall to coalitions of his over-mighty nobles. There was something about all the martial valour depicted here that made Rik think of the boasting of a drunken coward.

  "Stop doing that," murmured Asea.

  "Doing what?" he replied equally quietly.

  "Assessing the value of the paintings if you were going to sell them to a fence." He suppressed a smile, knowing that this time her guesswork had only been partially correct.

  "I'll try."

  "Best try to do so before we come before the Queen. I doubt she will appreciate your appraising of her property."

  "Judging by the length of this corridor I have a few more minutes to bring my cupidity under control."

  As he said it he noticed one picture, showing a human being raised up by the King, and ennobled with a golden sash. The man wore a General’s gold-braided hat and was missing an arm and an eye. Rik knew this could only be Armand Koth, the legendary General who had finally expelled both Taloreans and Sardeans from Kharadrea. He had practically rewritten the manuals of military tactics too. For a brief dazzling moment it struck Rik that Koth had most likely walked these very corridors in the days of his glory before his sad death.

  He was still dwelling on the thought as they entered the huge antechamber to Kathea's chambers. The servant swept them past the mass of courtiers and hangers-on waiting there and presented them to a tall, long-nosed Terrarch who bowed deeply and then banged on the door. As they waited for it to open Rik was all too aware of the number of eyes upon them. Once more he found himself uncomfortable under so much public scrutiny.

  The doors opened from within. Rik caught a glance of a slightly smaller chamber, lit by a sorcerous chandelier, walls lined by paintings. Beneath each painting stood a tall Terrarch cavalryman in the dark green and black uniform of the Kharadrean Household Guard. On a throne on the dais at the far end of the room sat Queen Kathea. Her gorgeous green robes and the diadem on her head made her look far more regal than the somewhat bedraggled figure Rik had rescued from the Serpent Tower.

  Slightly behind her on and her right sat Lord Azaar. In consideration of his illness, he was allowed to rest on a small, carved stool. His head cocked sardonically to one side as he saw Asea. She and Rik strode in, presented themselves as formalities required and servants slid the doors shut behind them.

  As he looked up at the Queen, Rik was once more aware that she seemed uncomfortable with his presence. That made him wary. Kathea was to be numbered among the most powerful people in this land now, and soon she would be ruler of it. If he made her feel uneasy, she would soon be able to remove the uneasiness along with his head. At the moment, there was not a lot he could do about that. He could only stand there, his mouth dry and his stomach churning, and resist the urge to fiddle with the tight collar of his dress tunic.

  Asea talked smoothly and well. She had a courtier's poise and a diplomat's gift for courtly language that Rik could only envy. The small talk concerning her majesty's health and other matters did not seem to bother her. The Queen expressed pleasure at her upcoming coronation and then surprised Rik by requesting that he talk in private with her. That caused quite a stir with the long-nosed chamberlain and the bodyguards. Only Asea and Azaar gave no sign of surprise, and he wondered if they had planned this between them. Eventually, Kathea over-rode the protests of her followers and he was shown into a small antechamber. Light filtered in from tiny barred windows, and he realised that even here, high up in the Palace, they were concerned with security. A small couch was placed under the windows and before it, in the light, was a table with a book on it and some refreshments. Not quite sure what he was supposed to do, Rik waited for a cue. The future Queen surprised him by sighing loudly, dropping onto the couch and removing one shoe.

  "They pinch," she said, when she saw his expression. It was not what he had expected.

  "The shoes, Your Serenity?"

  "The shoes, Rik." She poured a goblet of wine for herself. She seemed to take pleasure in it. He doubted she got much of a chance to do such things for herself. She took a sip with evident relish and then said, "Where are my manners? Would you like some?"

  "I think I should pour that, Your Serenity," he said, more because he thought it was the thing he should say, rather than because he wanted to.

  "Don't be silly." She poured him some wine, and offered it to him with her own hand. He took it and thanked her.

  "In another few months, I won't be able to do anything like this again. It will be beneath my queenly dignity, so I may as well take my chances now." She spoke regretfully as if this was something she would miss. Rik felt quite taken off guard.

  "In a few months you will be crowned, Your Serenity."

  "It's not something I need reminded of, Rik. Everyone conspires to do that constantly except for your Lord Azaar. He seems like a nice old fellow."

  That was not quite how Rik would have described the General, but she was most likely seeing a different aspect of his personality than Rik ever would.

  "May I ask why you wanted to talk with me, Your Serenity?"

  "I wanted to thank you for saving my life."

  "It was my duty, Your Serenity, as well as my pleasure," he lied glibly. It had been a time full of fear and desperation.

  "It was an act of true heroism and I am grateful. You were very brave. It’s just that I don't remember much about it myself. It all happened so quickly. Did I behave badly?"

  So that was what all this was about, and her nervousness too. She wondered what he was telling others about her behaviour. He thought he understood now why he made her so nervous.

  "Your Serenity's behaviour was never less than queenly," he said. "There were times when only your bold example let me maintain my own composure."

  "I thank you for the compliment."

  "It was nothing less than your due, Your Serenity."

  "Lady Asea tells me you are a young man of discretion."

  "You may rely on that, Your Serenity."

  "Then you may rely on my gratitude." They exchanged complicit smiles. Rik felt like they had reached an agreement, like two thieves in Sorrow's bazaar deciding on what to tell the Watch if they were caught.

  She rose from the couch and placed her glass upon the table. He did the same. It was obvious the interview was over. She gestured and he held the door open for her. They emerged into the throne room and the chamberlain showed Rik from the room, leaving Asea with the future Queen and the General.

  Rik strode for a corner, and stood waiting, his face a bland mask of composure. As he did so a tall old Terrarch nobleman, a beautiful Terrarch woman and a group of their followers swept over to him.

  "I understand that you are the young soldier we have to thank for saving the Queen's life," said the noble. His manners were very smooth, his small smile measured and polished like the gems on the pillows in a jeweller’s window. Rik wondered who he was and what his position was at court, and whether this was some test set by Kathea to see what he would say after their interview.

  "I merely performed my duty," said Rik. "And the Queen did far more to help herself than I di
d to help her. Her grace under pressure was exemplary."

  The beautiful lady's smile widened, she looked him up and down in a measuring fashion that was frankly sexual. He met her gaze blandly.

  "Perhaps you would care to tell us about it," she said. Rik suddenly felt as if he did when sneaking into a well-guarded manor with dogs and sentries and all manner of sorcerous alarms. Putting a foot wrong here could be fatal.

  "This is not the time or the place, I fear. I feel I should ask Her Serenity's permission before discussing such matters. The tale, after all, is hers to tell."

  "Discreet as well as heroic. That is a useful quality in a young man," said the Lady. Her eyes made it clear that discretion could cover a lot of matters. The old nobleman smiled.

  "My wife is correct," he said. "I hope we encounter each other again soon. I am Lord Sardontine."

  "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." They bowed and curtseyed to each other. As they did so, Lady Asea emerged from the audience chamber.

  "If you will excuse me," said Rik bowing again. "I must attend my patron."

  "Of course," said Lord Sardontine. "One forgets how lovely Lady Asea is. It has been over a century since last I talked with her. Please give her my greetings."

  With another bow, Rik disengaged himself. A moment later he found himself sweeping along beside Asea as a liveried servant showed them out.

  "I see you encountered Lord Sardontine," she murmured.

  "He sends you his greetings."

  "I accept them with pleasure." A look and a sweep of a fan told him that this was not the place to discuss such people. It was not something he needed telling. He felt a surge of gratitude as they mounted the coach and left the Palace behind. As they swept out into Parliament Square he felt like he had just had a narrow escape from a nest of snakes.

  “What happened back there?” Rik asked. “Did you discuss anything interesting with the Queen?”

 

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