The Iron Altar Series Box Set One: Books 1 to 3

by Casey Lea

  “He is already of age.” Goldown looked up sharply from stroking her belly, but Wing turned away from her to gaze out over the crowd. “Princess, may I introduce you to our son.”

  Free flinched and Darsey realized she had dug her nails into his palm. Sorry, sorry. Her gaze stayed fixed on her husband and their eyes met briefly. She tried shake her head in warning, but he looked on. His search ended at the bench that seated Jace, Misty, Zak and Falkyn. Wing frowned, but kept his gaze steady. Falkyn stared back like a tweet in headlights.

  59

  A New Beginning

  Falkyn rose without realizing he was standing. Every face in the room was staring at him, including his father's. They seemed to expect a reaction to this insanity.

  “No.” The single word was adamant, but it wasn't Falkyn's. Goldown surged to the front of the dais in frothy outrage. “Never. Do you think if you now offer one of your own children who happens to be adult, the Council will be swayed to accept him?”

  Wing sighed and stared hard at Falkyn, before glancing aside. Fal followed his father’s gaze and saw Darsey perched on the edge of a sofa. She was wringing her hands so hard she seemed likely to wrench her fingers off and her frond sent a flustered apology. He frowned, but turned back to Wing. His father had better explain fast, because his latest joke was failing badly. Falkyn finally caught and held Wing’s gaze. His father sent regret and guilt but, his mind was determined.

  Falkyn shook his head and his hands closed into fists. “No. In truth, not ever. You can't tie me to a throne just because I'm your son. You do it instead.”

  Wing flinched, but didn’t look away. “I would, I swear it. I'd do anyall I could to spare you this. Sadly your claim to the throne is much stronger than mine.”

  Falkyn clenched his fists more tightly. That was crazed. His father was in deep space on this one. He looked down at his hands and made a conscious effort to relax them. His fingers uncurled and his pulse slowed. A half-common space brat from the Rim was never going to be arck.

  Laughter drew his attention back to the dais. Someone giggled, but that light, girlish sound was at odds with the thinned lips releasing it. “Oh, please,” Goldown gasped, “spare me. A half-breed bounty hunter on the throne? The child of some fire-headed alien peasant? I'd think you were trying to renege on the deal we just publicly made if the idea was not so ludicrous. Any claim the Rimmer gets from you, Wing, is negated by his mother's human blood. Your line is poisoned.”

  Not as poisoned as your tongue, Darsey thought and there were smiles around the room in response, but also an undercurrent of unease. Many on the kres council had no wish to see an alien on the throne. Falkyn frowned at that. It seemed they hadn't bothered to check their own scan results and had simply made the same assumption as Goldown.

  “Darsey's not my mother,” he informed the room and the kres stirred, their attention returning to Falkyn. “I'm the son of Nightwing and a kres doctor.”

  There were mutters at that and quick mental exchanges re-evaluating the boy's claim to the throne. Some council members raised decisive fingers, while others shook theirs in dissent. Most pursed their lips and shielded their thoughts, until Wing raised his hand. “Not so, I'm afraid. I should have told you about your true lineage long past.”

  He jumped from the dais and strode to face Falkyn, who suddenly couldn't swallow. His father's mind had opened to the whole room and he was telling the truth. Falkyn backed away, until his calves hit the edge of his seat, but Wing's words pursued him. “Recall when we first met, Fal. I was certain-sure I couldn't be your father. That was because your mother and I were just friends. Our relationship was never sexual.”

  Falkyn could feel his head shaking, though he wasn't sure why. The words made no sense. Wing had to be his father. They were so similar and Harry had sworn it. “She wouldn't lie. Not like that. You're my father. You must be.”

  Strong arms caught him and stopped him from sagging. “Of course I am.”

  Falkyn straightened to glare at Wing. “Then what are you saying?”

  “Harrier was your mother in every way that mattered, but not biologically.”

  Falkyn pushed Wing, making him stagger backward. Why would his father say such a thing? Anger shook him and he raised his fists while tucking in his chin. “Retract that.”

  Darsey arrived at his side, to rest her fingers on the back of his hand. His father scrambled upright, but Falkyn ignored him and his mind demanded honesty from Darsey.

  She gulped, but nodded. “We love you, Fal and we don't want to hurt you. Ever. Me, I'm tempted to let the Empire sort itself out and leave it to its fate. Perhaps we should.” She paused to give Wing a stern look. “All just walk away, rather than assume you have to do this for us.”

  Falkyn dropped his raised fists, to clutch Darsey's hand instead. He held so tight she gasped, but he couldn't seem to stop. “Please, I don't understand.”

  “Neither do we,” the Royal Speaker said. “Explain. Who mothered the potential claimant?”

  Wing pulled his tunic straight and held Falkyn's gaze. “Princess Goldown.”

  Utter silence greeted the revelation. The words flooded Falkyn's mind and only Darsey's grip kept him from drowning in them. That gat was his mother? As soon as he asked the question he knew it was true. The most horrible, horrifying nightmare of his life felt real. Darsey silently agreed and all the air seemed to leave the room. It was impossible to answer the awful accusation.

  However, Goldown gave a desperate laugh that was so shrill it sounded hysterical. “You’re pathetic, Wing. Is that your best effort to subvert our contract? The Rimmer's entry visa says he was born four cycles after you left me.”

  “Yes. His mother was captured by t'ssaa and placed in stasis. She already carried Falkyn when she was abducted.”

  Goldown raised her hand to hide a titter. “If she was pregnant then the brat can't be mine.”

  Wing walked toward her and she retreated back into the guards. “No more hiding, Gold. It's time for honesty. When I left you, you had a problem, didn't you? When did you realize you were pregnant?”

  There was no laughter this time. Goldown looked around, but everyone in the room wanted her answer, especially her supporters. She closed her eyes before whispering something, but then cleared her throat to repeat it. “Two days. Two days after you left.”

  “You didn't try to reach me? To contact me?”

  Her chin rose at that. “Why? So you could say again at nauseating length that you were leaving me? That it was your decision and no one could force you back?”

  “I would've returned.”

  “I know. That's what was most awful. How could I not know? You wouldn't come back for me, but you would for some unborn rat.” Goldown stopped, breathing hard, before shoving back past the guards to confront Wing. “I dreamed of this moment. Of telling you, but I was too scared. It was an impossibly hard decision and I knew you'd never understand, but you know now don't you? What I had to do. What you made me do.”

  Wing looked like he wanted to be sick and Falkyn felt his own stomach heave. His father was nearly whispering now. “You decided to abort a royal child. A potential heir.” A collective wave of shock rippled across the room, followed by muttered conversation among the councillors, but Wing ignored them. “And you chose a royal physician to help. Someone new to her position at court. You chose Harrier.”

  “Yes, but it was your fault. You left me no option. That's why I used your precious Harry, not just for her lack of connections, but because she was your friend. I knew she'd need removing after-” Goldown stopped and straightened from her rant.

  She blinked at Wing and then he was carrying her backward. He charged into her shield to lift them both past the chairs and on, before slamming into the wall. The room dissolved into pandemonium. The guards sprinted after them, only to hit the ground when Jace, Misty and Zak intervened.

  Councillors stumbled toward the exits and the Ascendency became a shambles.

 
; “HOLD.” Falkyn's roar froze everyone in place. He looked slowly around the room and every gaze was fixed on him when he stalked toward his parents. “Release her.”

  Wing seemed oblivious, while his forehead pressed against Gold's and his fingers tightened in her throat. Falkyn grabbed his father's wrists and Wing's head jerked back.

  “Patri, stop. She's with child.”

  “Wing.” Darsey arrived on the other side of the couple, but she wasn't needed. Falkyn had already used the best possible argument to stop the attack. His father dropped the princess and pushed her away.

  Wing straightened his uniform, then turned to face the council. “My ex-betrothed instructed Doctor Plume to abort my son. Harry obeyed, but couldn't bring herself to hurt my child. It seemed she'd grown fond of me. She secretly implanted the embryo in herself. She was then sent on a cruise by Goldown. It was supposedly a sign of gratitude, but that ship was the Epic Wanderer. Its position was betrayed to pirates, although I can't prove by whom. I could only find a coded message received from Kresynt. The ship was lost, but Harry unexpectedly survived. She carried Falkyn to term and then raised him.”

  Wing turned back to face Goldown, who was huddled on the floor, but his words rang around the room. “However, he remains the grandson of the last Arck, Sharpeye, from father to daughter to son as proscribed by ancient tradition. The inheritance from Sharpeye, to Goldown, to Falkyn is unbroken. On my side, his father's side, he is also the great-grandson of the previous Arck, Hawkeye the Great. He descends from him through a daughter, my mother, to her son, myself. No other kres has such a strong claim to the throne. His bloodlines on both sides are unassailable - and most importantly, he unites the two disputed lines of inheritance.”

  Wing turned back to Falkyn and dropped to a knee. “All hail, his Mightiness, Arck Falkyn FarFlight.”

  There was silence around the room and then a muted rustle as everyone fell to their knees. Falkyn gulped against bile. This couldn't be happening. His father couldn't just offer him up as the perfect solution. A compromise that his peaceable people would gladly seize on. “Hail,” they murmured reverently. “All hail.”

  Falkyn turned on a heel, then spun again more quickly, but the crowd was the same. Not one of them remained upright. Not even Darsey or his brothers. It was crazy. Completely insane. It couldn't be true.

  A croak from Goldown made him swing back to face the dais. “It's a lie.” The words were so soft and mangled they were impossible to hear, but her mind carried their sense further than her aching throat could. “Lying.”

  Wing tapped his wrist and an intricate hologram filled the room with a series of turning spirals. The genes were all there, linked to Falkyn's cells on one side and back to his parents' chromosomes on the other. “Check the samples from your scan results. They'll match and the in-depth DNA will hold up. There are some genetic anomalies to be sure, but most of them are shared by Goldown and myself. In centuries past the BGP made minor alterations to the royal chromosomes, but their effectiveness is beyond dispute. Falkyn is kres and he is our son. This is no hoax.”

  Falkyn stared at the results blankly, while the council ran their own analysis. When the Royal Speaker raised his staff in confirmation Goldown gave a scratchy wheeze that seemed to be a laugh, but was followed by tears. Her fronds writhed while their strands twisted then tangled, before sending her jumbled thoughts. Oh rich, rich. Beyond rich. The universe abhors me. It must hate me more than Papa did. Blizzard, who adored me... gods, would have done anything for me, sacrificed his life for me... he never had a chance to get me with child. This baby isn't his. She tilted her head to grin hugely at Falkyn and her fronds sprayed him with manic delight. “She's yours.”

  Falkyn shook his head, trying to follow her rasp. “Be calm, lady. This is no time for hysteria.”

  What time could be better? My throne, my husband, my father, my reputation, all gone. Thanks to you. My son, but also the father of my child.

  The council were on their feet, driven upright by such an outrageous claim. Their clamour filled the chamber and Falkyn doubted they'd ever had such a week before. First the Arck had gone mad and now his daughter was just as deluded. He let pity for Goldown flow from his fronds along with bemusement. That gat might be his mother, but at least he'd never slept with her. Of that he was sure.

  So certain, my son. Have you truly forgotten me? The masked ball? The lovers' ledge? Your sweet little butterfly?

  Falkyn tried to turn back to confront her, but he seemed to be sinking in glue. No one dared to make a sound. He looked for his father, who was wide-eyed and staring, but then a crunch broke the silence. It was followed by the steady rasp of someone chewing. Everyone looked around to find the culprit. It was Zak. He had claimed a vacated seat near the front of the room and had his feet up on the chair in front of him, with his legs crossed at the ankles. He seemed to be eating... popcorn?

  The Royal Speaker cleared his throat, but Falkyn started to laugh. He kept it brief, holding back from hysteria, but his heart was genuinely lighter. He still had his crazed crew and, it seemed, a loyal family. A single ditch in the mix couldn't destroy that. He stepped down from the dais and every head twisted to follow him. He reached his brother and Zak offered the popcorn. Falkyn took a handful and turned back to face his mother.

  “We make quite the show, do we not?” He made his way back to her, while chewing thoughtfully. He stepped up onto the platform and hope leaked from Goldown's fronds, until she looked into his eyes.

  “Guards,” Falkyn said softly, “arrest Princess Goldown. She is charged with conspiracy to commit murder. Her involvement in the loss of the Epic Wanderer will be most closely examined. The security visuals of Arckyn Hawkeye's death will also be studied in full. Take her to her quarters and hold her there. She may watch my coronation if she wishes.”

  The royal guards obeyed without hesitation. They surrounded Goldown and one took her arm, but she pulled away from him to stagger forward and drop to her knees in front of Falkyn. She clutched at his boots, while her fronds screeched horror.

  “Please, sire, I beg mercy. Mercy for my child. For your child. Grant me a pardon. P-please. Exile us to one of your summer palaces on a warmer world. Surely such is punishment enough? You have to understand. Sharpeye's court was a place of endless intrigue. Patri's malice choked the life from us all.”

  “Some more literally than others.”

  Goldown paled and looked around the chamber.

  She licked her lips, but Falkyn raised a hand to silence her. “Please don't search this room for help. You won't find sympathy here. This council is the heart of royal intrigue, as you call it, but you... you have out maneuvered and out murdered them all. You also did your utmost to kill me and my mother.” Falkyn crouched to lean over her and spoke very softly, so that only Goldown could hear. “Others may have sympathy for you. Certainly any of those who knew Sharpeye well, but not me. Never me.”

  The Speaker’s staff smashed into the floor and Falkyn jumped upright, almost stepping on Darsey, who stood beside him. “This Council unanimously chooses Falkyn FarFlight to be Arck. Does the Chosen accept?”

  Silence filled the room, but it wasn’t a peaceful quiet. It was as intense as the summer sun through a magnifying glass and Falkyn felt himself withering. “I can’t do this,” he whispered in Darsey’s ear and felt her sorrow in response.

  “We’ll support your decision, whatever it is.”

  Falkyn closed his eyes and wished he could make his responsibilities disappear as easily as the room. The weakened Alliance desperately needed a friend on the kres throne and if he refused, then the council might still chose Goldown. She’d certainly do her best to make sure they did and he couldn’t allow it. He would never let his mother’s attempted killer claim the throne. He straightened his shoulders and opened his eyes.

  His followers were utterly still and staring at him, as if only he could set the pieces of the kres court back into motion. “I accept.”

 
A mass exhalation filled the room, a single sigh of relief when everyone breathed out at once. Only one person ruined the shared reaction. Princess Goldown groaned and folded onto her face. Falkyn stepped forward to haul her up and her sodden skirt squelched under his feet. He looked down at his boots without comprehension.

  Why was there a puddle in the council chambers? Where would so much water come from? Goldown groaned again and he suddenly understood. “Medics,” Falkyn yelled, trying to think straight. “I mean doctors, healers, ah… midwives. Someone tend to the princess.” He bent to help her up much more gently than he had first intended.

  Goldown sagged against Falkyn with another whimper, and whispered in his ear. “I was in labor before the Conclave. My com has… ahn… kept it distant, but- oh!” She arched back and he plucked her off her feet, while her belly tensed as hard as a razorback egg under his hand. She gritted her teeth and somehow found a smile for the new Arck. “Our daughter is on her way.”

  60

  Ascension

  Amber squirmed against dilmah cushions and tried to be patient. Being locked out of the vote was one of the most excruciating challenges of her life. The temptation to march into the High Council and take a seat had been huge. Only the certainty of being thrown out had stopped her. It was galling that she couldn’t claim her rightful place. She deserved a seat, both as the reincarnated Lady Grace and also as the sister of a son of one of the claimants. Unfortunately, trying to explain either relationship would get her locked up.

  At least her status was high enough to claim a seat in the Grand Hall, so she’d be present when Sharpeye’s successor ascended the throne. She truly hoped it was Wing. She wriggled again, but it didn’t help. She’d waited two lifetimes for this and was close to screaming. What was talking so long? She needed a distraction.