by Jeff Wilson
Among those crimes was listed a story, extracted under what pressures, who could now say, that recounted the abuse of Duke Kyreth Edorin’s daughter by Deneg himself. It could be guessed that this confession might even be the original source of all the rumors about Aisen’s having been fathered by one of Beodred’s men.
Eivendr suspected that the contents of this document, of which he had just learned the existence, were entirely false. He had investigated such claims in the past and found credible confirmed evidence that Kyreth’s daughter had never, at any point, been in the hands of or otherwise captured by anyone from the Rendish alliance that had attacked Nar Edor’s Port City. She could reliably be accounted for by many witnesses as having been safely sheltered within the confines of Alsegate Castle throughout the three days of fighting.
Though the story had to have been false, this did not mean that the document recording Deneg’s confession was of no value to Eivendr. There were ways he could use the prisoner’s statements to undermine the position of the men of the Sigil Corps who claimed to be fighting in support of Aisen’s lordship over the lands and property of House Edorin.
But not all of the information obtained from Deneg, as it had been represented to him by Hedryn, had been false. There was one record in particular which Eivendr knew most assuredly for the truth, for it involved Eivendr himself. It revealed his role, identified as the King of Nar Edor, in receiving a sum of money from Beodred’s forces under the promise that he would give Beodred seven days in which to lay waste to the lands around Nar Edor’s thriving Port City, for which the only additional compensation Eivendr had demanded, was the death of Duke Kyreth Edorin.
It was the one great evil deed of Eivendr’s life, and like all of the bargains he had ever made with those men of Hedryn’s kind, who possessed dark powers and secrets which they offered seemingly for so little, it ended badly. Aedan Elduryn had somehow anticipated the attack long in advance and protected the life of his lord, Duke Kyreth Edorin. In an incredible and improbable reversal, Aedan broke the Rendish alliance apart, killed its leader, Beodred, and in the battles aftermath helped Kyreth found the Sigil Corps. House Edorin had then become more powerful than ever.
Eivendr had harbored from the time of this great mistake, a hidden shame that ate away at him even now. If anyone were to ever discover what he had done, inviting an army of foreigners to destroy a part of his own kingdom, he would be deposed immediately, and his name would survive his eventual public execution as a byword of betrayal and deceit. Eivendr saw those consequences clearly. This prisoner’s confessions could destroy him, and according to Hedryn, Lord Aisen had learned of its existence and would soon have allies in Eidstadt searching it out.
It was this dreaded document, designs upon the destruction of which had occupied some corner of every thought that surfaced in his head following the improvements in his knowledge regarding its contents, and the fear of its disclosure, that drew Eivendr to this place. Until he learned the names of the jailors to whom this man had confessed, and the ruinous words were burned in the flames of his lamp, Eivendr knew that he would find no rest.
Eivendr could trust no one with this. He had to eliminate the evidence himself so that no one, not even his most trusted allies, would ever learn the truth about what he had done. He could not bear to imagine what they might think of him if they did.
It was therefore a great comfort to see that the entire library was darkened, empty, and silent. The rooms that comprised this space, in which so many important books and documents were stored, filled a large part of an entire wing of Eivendr’s palace. He reached the archive that had been indicated by the thrall only after a long, hesitating journey through confusing corridors of books kept upon wooden shelves which were supported within stone alcoves built into the many walls of the silent repository.
When at last he entered the room he sought, Eivendr found the light from his small lamp to be insufficient for his search. There were bundled papers stacked upon each other on every shelf and in every recess that could be found in the four corners of the simple space. There were no windows to admit what little light could be gotten from the moon, and owing to the risks posed by the stacks of papers stored here, there were no torches to light, nor any place for a fire.
It began to seem hopeless until Eivendr found a couple of rush lights, leaning upright in a corner beside a thin open ended iron cylinder perforated with hundreds of small holes. Taking up one of the dried rushes, which had been stripped down to the pith and soaked in grease, Eivendr lit an end with his lamp and dropped it into the iron container, where it began to cast light into the room through the empty spaces in the wall of the cylinder. It gave off more light than his lamp, but it would not be very practical to drag around. Encouraged in a small degree by this success, Eivendr began to inspect the nearest stack of papers.
Hope quickly became frustration. It was easier now to scan the piles of paper, but reading them was another thing entirely. He cursed his aging eyes, which in these dim conditions could not read the words scrawled on the documents.
The irresolvable worries which so weakened his heart and troubled his mind, grew more imposing to Eivendr as he began to realize how difficult this would be. It occurred to him that he would need to return during the day, when there was more light, and this line of thought pushed him into a mild panic.
If he left now, it would be discovered that someone had been here. Ashes from the rush light would give him away. Even with more light, finding the documents he sought would take more time than he had. Someone would uncover his strange attempt to investigate, and then they would learn why. He was quite beyond being rational and reasoned and saw everything in terms of the most unlikely and worst possible outcomes.
Noticing how excited his breathing had become, Eivendr forced himself to calm down. He took care to stand perfectly still until his breathing became more controlled, and he continued to do so until each inward and outward breath ceased to make sound. In this silence, he first heard the respirations of another man.
Initially frozen in a moment of terror, Eivendr was soon moved by his fear of discovery to cast about trying to locate the threat. He had thought the room had been empty when he had entered, and it seemed certain that no one could have come in unnoticed since, but Eivendr could still hear the breathing of the other man.
He had to look about twice before he saw the figure in the shadows. The more prominent features of this enemies face were outlined in the dim fiery glare of the rush light. At first, Eivendr found that his eyes seemed to lose track of the other man, but this strange feeling did not last. The face was familiar.
The man had a deep sun weathered complexion and dark hair. The light seemed to catch in his eyes, which looked like smoldering coals from a spent fire, and his stare pronounced a judgment which was informed of every dark deed that Eivendr had ever done. King Eivendr could have been no more surprised, or any more frightened, if it had been some terrifying creature of a dark realm come to claim his life.
“You might be more pleased to see me,” Edryd said. “I worked ever so hard to arrange this meeting.”
A pronounced terror began in Eivendr’s shoulders and stuttered down his back.
“You look like you need to sit down,” Edryd said. His tone was casual. It was almost friendly in the way that it seemed to express real worry and concern, but Eivendr took no comfort. He knew that he was about to die
Word regarding the fall of An Innis had reached Nar Edor two days earlier, and everyone knew that the Blood Prince would soon bring the violence he had wrought on that island, along with his Army of Ascomanni warriors, into the heart of Nar Edor to do battle with Eivendr. But they had gotten it wrong. He was already here.
“You have it?” Eivendr concluded. His mind was still obsessed with the secret that he had come here to destroy.
“Think on it a moment, Eivendr,” Edryd said. “Just think about it all, and you will figure it out.”
“How did yo
u get here?” Eivendr said, in no condition to reason anything out at the moment. “You shouldn’t have gotten here so quickly. How, how is it you can be here?”
“I came here on the Wraith, with Hedryn and Captain Eksar, men you already know well enough,” Edryd explained. He then waited patiently for Eivendr to absorb what he had said.
Things began to fall into place for Eivendr. Somehow, Lord Aisen was now allied with the very men who had once sought his destruction. Under what circumstances they had come together, Eivendr could not possibly guess, but he could see that they were now united. “You had Hedryn lure me here with that story of Deneg’s confession,” Eivendr said, understanding how completely foolish he had been. “Was there ever even such a man as Deneg?”
“There is,” said Edryd, who seemed to be amused by the question. “And he was once a captain among Beodred’s men, but he has since become a low ranking bureaucrat on the island of An Innis. Or he was one at any rate. He’s just recently become unemployed.”
Eivendr did not like the look on the other man’s face. Aisen just kept grinning as if he thought his king would have found all of this funny. “You know what I meant,” Eivendr said. He was still frightened, but increasingly, he was just feeling confused.
“The one you are worried about is a fictional invention. Hedryn made him up,” Edryd admitted. “The records of his confessions, obviously, were false as well.”
Eivendr swore silently to himself, cursing his own stupidity.
“Sit down. Relax for a moment,” Edryd urged.
“I do not dare hope that you have come for any other purpose than to kill me,” Eivendr said, “and you think that I ought to relax?”
“It’s true,” Edryd said, “I might be here for that reason. But that is a very important might. For the moment at least, there is still more than one possible outcome.”
It didn’t seem to make sense, but the idea that Aisen was offering some narrow chance to escape a just and overdue punishment, only made Eivendr feel even more afraid. He decided that he would sit down. He was frightened, and tired, and he needed to rest.
It occurred to Eivendr that there was a reason he was not dead yet. “What do you want from me?” Eivendr asked. “I trust there is something you hoped to achieve, some purpose to all of this.”
“There are several of them,” answered Edryd, “and I will tell you their names.”
Eivendr, correctly assuming this reference to have meant the vassal lords of House Edorin, began at once to distance himself from the men who had plotted Aisen’s death. “I had absolutely nothing to do with any of that,” Eivendr insisted.
“I believe you, Eivendr,” said Edryd, “and even if I were inclined to doubt it, as indeed I would be, I know from Hedryn that you had no part in the plot.”
The king began to speak more rapidly, further protesting his innocence. “Then you also know that I favored you in the succession. Hedryn will confirm it. I refused when they asked me to support your brother. I wanted you to inherit.”
“Hedryn did tell me that. But your reasons for favoring me deserve to be explored. Was it not your opinion that you preferred me as being least popular of the two of us? Is it not true that you thought I would be easier to control and more dependent upon your support?”
“That,” Eivendr said, “would be a mischaracterization.”
Edryd looked at his king askance, reproving Eivendr for his efforts to dispute what they both knew had been a completely accurate description of the king’s reasoning at the time.
“And what does it matter? You had my support!” Eivendr said with irritation. He was unaccustomed to being subjected to such disapproval and judgment, and he did not enjoy being put in a position where he needed to defend himself.
“As grateful as I am for your past support,” Edryd said, after letting his king’s question remain unanswered for a while, “what concerns me now is what you did after the attempt on my life. You harbored the men who betrayed me, and lent your sympathies to their lies.”
Eivendr had no answer for this accusation. He had begun to fear Aisen from the moment he had heard the news of the slaughter in the Edorin family crypts. He had also become convinced that Aisen’s allies in the Sigil Order were a threat, and most important of all, he had recognized an opportunity to expand his own strength. Seeing a chance to put the great Port City, which Duke Kyreth Edorin had founded, under Royal control, and put an ally of his own in Aisen’s place on the throne of Alsegate, Eivendr had used the lies of Aisen’s enemies to raise an army for the purpose of accomplishing his own selfish ends. He would have denied this to anyone else, but he knew that Aisen could see through him.
“What would you have me do,” said Eivendr with as much humility as he could manage, “to make it right?”
“You will arrest the men who conspired against me. You will try them for treason. And you will see to it that they are all found guilty,” said Edryd.
Observing how calm Aisen had been as he had spoken these words, Eivendr was sure now that he was right to be in fear of him, and began to esteem this enemy with an ever growing level of respect. Eivendr would have accepted the conditions immediately, if he had not sensed that Aisen had more to ask.
“You will announce in the morning that you have brokered an agreement with me to guarantee the safety of Nar Edor from an Ascomanni invasion, and that I have promised to never return to these shores. House Edorin lands and properties will, however, remain under my control.”
These additions to Aisen’s demands were so far contrary to what Eivendr had expected that for a long while he could not understand what it was that he had been asked. But Aisen was more than patient in repeating himself, two more times, so that Eivendr came to eventually understand. He would have to give up his designs on taking control of the port city, but Eivendr could hardly find anything else that he did not favor in this bargain, and as a result, he viewed the entire proposal with extreme suspicion.
“And how can I be certain that you will hold to your word. How do I know that you will not return one day to oppose me?”
“Because you will no longer be the King of Nar Edor, and so I will have no cause to do so,” Edryd said, using this answer to introduce his final demand.
It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Eivendr was enraged.
“If you wish to remove me from my throne, you will not find me willing,” said Eivendr. “You can kill me if you wish, but nothing short of that will end my reign. I am old already, and can think of worse ways to die.”
“I can think of worse ways too, Eivendr, be assured of that,” said Edryd, a spark of anger appearing in his eyes, and his voice betraying the suppressed anger which he felt towards his king. It existed only for a moment, but it had clearly been there.
“I’m sorry,” said Eivendr, without knowing what it was he had just apologized for, and feeling all of his proud defiance wither away.
“Sorry for what?” said Edryd. “You yourself say that you have had my interests at heart and have at no time caused me any harm. Perhaps you are sorry for something you did to someone else, then?”
King Eivendr recognized the weakly concealed derision in these words, and trembled in apprehension as he began to discern where the conversation was headed. Knowing that his tormenter was about to answer his own question, Eivendr remained quiet.
“Deneg and his confessions do not exist, but the events around which that story was built, are rooted in the truth. You may not have been involved on the attempt on my life, but you orchestrated an attempt on the life of my grandfather, and in the process, hundreds of innocent men and women died. It seems to me that the people of Nar Edor ought to know what kind of man you are. Once they do, I won’t need to kill you, they will do it for me.”
King Eivendr dropped his head and buried his face in his hands. Every word Aisen had spoken to him was true, and he did not doubt that this man, the terrible Blood Prince, had evidence to prove all of it, or failing this, that he posses
sed the necessary powers to persuade others of the truth of these claims.
Edryd could read in his king’s reaction and in his hesitation to respond, a great deal more than Eivendr could ever have revealed in words. He decided it was time to condense everything for King Eivendr by placing it all into one simple abstraction. “Your choice is a simple one. You can either be a monarch who knew when it was time to pass his authority to another, living the remainder of his days in honor and respect while being celebrated for preserving the safety of his country, or… you can be a dead villain.”
The king, forced to confront his crime, began to cry miserably, motivated in part by his shame, but equally by the mercy being offered to him, which he in no way deserved. “Please, promise me you will never tell anyone,” said Eivendr. “I couldn’t bear it to be known. Kill me if you think it is right, but let me be remembered as a good king.”
“Give me no cause to ever regret it, and I will carry your secret to the grave,” promised Edryd. He could not forgive Eivendr for the things he had done, but against every expectation he had carried into this confrontation, or any that he could have ever imagined, Edryd felt within himself a touch of sympathy for the old man. Eivendr had been, almost, very nearly, a semblance of a good King. There had been forty years of peace in Nar Edor under his reign, during which his secret attempt to bring about the death of Kyreth Edorin, a friend who had all but placed him on the throne, had been the only remarkable stain.
“How can you possibly forgive me?” said Eivendr, unable to comprehend being pardoned by the man known as the Blood Prince.
“I left Nar Edor to prevent bloodshed,” answered Edryd. “And I have come back for the same reason. Your abdication, and my absence, will prevent a war.”