D&D - Birthright 01

by The Iron Throne # Simon Hawke

  The traitor prince who had escaped Roele at the Battle of Mount Deismaar was now an immensely powerful awnshegh who controlled a nation in his own right, one that might well be strong enough to attack the empire.

  Moreover, Raesene would know it was she who had stolen Callador’s token from him, and Laera did not think he was likely to forget it.

  She would not wish to fall into his hands again.

  That one night had been enough. It had been the most terrifying and agonizing experience of her life, and yet, despite the horror if it all, despite the pain he’d caused her, despite her revulsion, there had been an unnatural thrill to it all. What was it about her that made her feel so alive and vibrant whenever she risked disaster? What was it that made even pain seem so exciting?

  The thrill of her affair with Rodric, of all her past affairs, which had seemed so dangerous at the time, paled to insignificance after that one awful yet somehow strangely and perversely galvanizing night.

  What thrill could possibly compare with what she had experienced then?

  The deposing of her brother and the seizing of the empire? Nothing less would do. After it all came to fruition, she would wear her widow’s weeds and put on a show of grief and

  lamentation over Derwyn’s death at her own hands, and bravely allow herself to be persuaded to accept the regency for the sake of the people, who would have been primed by then to call for her ascension.

  And she would reserve a very special fate for Aedan Dosiere. Over the years, she had contemplated countless times the form her revenge would take. But now that she was a practitioner of the sorcerous arts, there were new and more ingenious ways to make him suffer.

  She had waited for this for a long, long time, an now, soon, it would come to pass. She would become a sorcerer-queen, with an empire to rule, and she would gather at her court the greatest wizards in the land to instruct her further until her power was matched by none.

  Then, not even the awnsheghlien would be able to pose a threat. She would bring even the Gorgon to his knees.

  She reached for the jewelry box. It was time. By now, Gella had returned to the servants’ quarters and was undoubtedly asleep. She would never see the morning.

  Derwyn slept soundly in the bed, without the faintest clue she had placed him into a trance. He would not awake until she chose to wake him. She could do her work undisturbed. All she needed to do now was take the token locket, open it, and cast the spell….

  She froze as she opened the hidden drawer. It was empty! Her hand pawed at the silk lining, her eyes unable to believe what they were seeing. The tokens were gone! She had only Derwyn’s, which she habitually wore around her neck. And she had enjoyed wearing it, too, because he always commented upon

  it with affection, never suspecting what it truly represented. The thought gave her no end of amusement. But the other tokensallador’s and Gella’s -were no longer in the secret drawer.

  Stunned, Laera tried to think. Had she taken them out before and left them somewhere? No, she always kept them there, safe and secure. But not secure enough, as it turned out. They had been stolen. That was the only possible explanation. But who … ?

  Gella!

  It could have been no one else. Had the girl known about the secret drawer? Had she ever opened it in her presence? Yes, Laera realized, cursing herself for being a fool. She had. And Gella’s mother was a witch, so she knew that without the token, Laera would have no power over her. She must have stolen it earlier that evening, when her back was turned, and now she’d run away, thinking she was free. But Laera still had the power of the Duchess of Boeruine.

  She would hide Derwyn’s locket, which was nearly identical in appearance to the other two, and tell him the girl had stolen it. She had already been convicted as a thief, so no one would doubt the story.

  Laera quickly thought it through.

  She would express sorrow over the way the ungrateful girl had repaid her for giving her another chance at life, and would tell Derwyn the whole thing was a sad misfortune but she could always get another locket and another lock of his hair to put inside it. It was only that she had grown so very attached to that one, because it had such special meaning….

  Derwyn would have his men-at-arms turn the city upside down searching for the girl. They would

  scour the surrounding countryside an announce a substantial reward for her arrest and the return of the missing locket … no, she would have to account for two, so that she could make certain they were both returned. She would say the second locket was one given her by her mother. It had held a lock of her dead father’s hair. Yes, that would be perfect.

  The girl had not had much of a head start. She would not get far, thought Laera with grim satisfaction. All she had to do was wake Derwyn and express such anguish and distress over the missing lockets that he would immediately send his men-atarms out in search of the girl. She would be apprehended by morning.

  Laera bent over her husband and made a pass over him with her fingers, whispering the words that would remove the spell that held him in a trance. Now all she had to do was cry out and he would wake, alarmed, andThe sound of frenzied screaming echoed through the castle.

  Derwyn sat up in bed. “By Haelyn, what was that?”

  Laera was taken aback. The cry had not been hers.

  It had come from outside their chambers, echoing through the halls, and it continued, shattering the stillness of the night. It was a woman screaming, someone in terrible agony…

  Derwyn leapt from the bed and reached for his sword belt, buckling it on over his nightshirt. “By all the gods, it sounds as if someone is being murdered!”

  There was the sound of running footsteps outside in the corridor, and an instant later, someone was

  pounding on the door. Derwyn threw it open to reveal one of the house guards.

  “Come quickly, Your Lordship! It’s the empress!”

  “May the heavens preserve us!” Derwyn exclaimed.

  “I’m coming with you!” Laera said. Meanwhile, her mind raced. This was too much of a coincidence. Gella had given her the Gorgon’s dose only several hours earlier. Before the traitorous girl had stolen the tokens and absconded with them, she had reported that she had administered the content of the vial, as directed, pouring them into a goblet of mulled ale, and she had watched the empress drink it. It had to be the potion, whatever it was. Had the Gorgon lied to her? Had it been some poison meant to kill the empress?

  Laera felt a thrill of excitement as she hurried down the corridor after Derwyn. This unexpected development could turn out to be even better than she’d planned. If the empress died, she could blame Gella for having poisoned her. No one would believe anything the girl said after she was apprehended.

  After all, she was a criminal. Had she not been arrested once before for stabbing a man? But what motive would she have for murdering the empress?

  It would make no difference, Laera thought. Perhaps the empress caught her trying to steal some jewelry.

  That would fit in well with her story of the stolen lockets. Or perhaps she was just insane. She would never escape now. And once she was caught, if she started babbling about having given some strange potion to the empress on Laera’s orders, she would only convince everyone she was crazy.

  Yes, thought Laera as she hurried toward the emperor’s quarters, this could work out very well,

  46?

  indeed. Faelina’s death would shatter Michael. And as the story spread, it could be slanted in a favorable way, as if it were all an omen from the gods. The empress had died because the emperor was not meant to have an heir. He had angered Haelyn and brought it on himself.

  The door to the emperor’s quarters stood wide open, and people had crowded in. Michael was standing by the bedside, frantic.

  “The physicians!” he kept shouting. “What’s happening to her?

  Somebody do something! By the gods, where are the physicians?”

  Aedan was there, too, along
with Ariel and several other members of the emperor’s inner circle.

  Faelina was in bed, thrashing like a fish out of water and screaming with pain. She was covered with sweat, and she had thrown the covers off. Laera immediately ran to her side, as if to comfort her, but Faelina was in such agony, she was unable to respond.

  “Get out!” said Laera. “Get out, all of you, and let her breathe!

  Where are the physicians?”

  As if on cue, one of the physicians came rushing in. “Everyone except the emperor and Duchess Laera, please leave at once,” he said. “Lord Aedan, you have the healing blood ability. Can you assist me?”

  Aedan was pale. “I have already tried. Twice. I was the first on the scene, but it was no use. She does not respond.”

  Laera hustled everyone else out of the room, then came back to the bedside of the empress, bending over her with a show of great concern.

  “What happened, Michael?”

  “I do not know!” he replied. “She simply started screaming! I don’t know what to do! You’ve got to help her! Please!”

  “May the gods preserve us!” the physician said as he examined her.

  “She is about to deliver a child!”

  “What?” said Michael. “But … that’s impossible!”

  “Look for yourself,” the physician said. He pointed to her belly. It was swelling rapidly, growing right before their eyes, rising like a loaf of bread. The physician placed his hand upon it. “I can feel it kicking.

  Immensely strong.”

  “No,” said Michael, shaking his head with disbelief. “It cannot be!

  She was not with child!”

  “She is now,” the physician said. He shook his head. “This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It passes all understanding.”

  “Send for the midwives! Quickly!” Laera shouted to the guards outside in the corridor. They would prove excellent witnesses for what was about to happen.

  The Gorgon’s child was coming. Only it was not taking the normal nine months to quicken and be born. It was happening right now, taking only minutes. Already, Faelina’s stomach had swelled to the point where she looked like a woman five or six months pregnant, and it was growing still, visibly, expanding by the moment. If the midwives did not arrive in the next few minutes, they would not be in time.

  “How can this be, physician?” Aedan asked as he stared in horrified fascination at the writhing empress.

  The man simply shook his head. He was so baffled he was unable to respond. He could only watch, wide-eyed with astonishment and disbelief.

  Michael seized him and started shaking the poor man furiously. “Do something! Help her, for Haelyn’s sake!”

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but there is nothing I can do!”

  Faelina’s screams continued as she bucked and thrashed in the bed. Her eyes were rolling wildly, and she was breathing in sharp gasps.

  “Michael! Michael!” Aedan said, trying to pry the emperor’s grip from the physician. “Let the man go!

  This isn’t helping!”

  “The child is coming, Your Majesty,” said the physician. “There is no denying it, however incredible it may seem. We must make ready to assist the birth.”

  Michael released him just as the midwives came rushing in. They had already been told what was happening, but when they saw it for themselves, they cried out with dismay. Still, they overcame their initial shock and moved to help the empress give birth.

  “You must leave,” the senior midwife said to the physician. “This is no work for a man. All the men must leave, right now.”

  “I’m staying,” Michael said.

  “You will only be in the way,” the senior midwife said curtly.

  “Emperor or no, this is no place for a man.”

  “Come on, Michael,” Aedan said, taking him by the arm. “There is nothing we can do here now. Let them do their work.”

  Dazed, Michael allowed himself to be led outside.

  Only Laera, Ariel, and the midwives remained.

  “This is sorcery!” one of the midwives said. “Yesterday, she was not even with child, and now she will give birth at any moment!”

  “Whatever it may be, our duty now is to the mother and her child,” the senior midwife said.

  “Stop your chattering and hold her down before she injures herself.”

  Snapping out orders like a drillmaster, the senior midwife quickly took charge. Laera and Ariel assisted. It took them all to get the struggling Faelina into the proper position. She was delirious, but still the screams kept coming. Her stomach now was the size of a ripe watermelon.

  “It’s coming,” the senior midwife said. “Hold her!

  Stop her thrashing!”

  They held her down. Faelina was beyond being able to hear them. And there was no need to tell her to bear down. The child was coming, with or without her help. It was clawing its way out. The senior midwife positioned herself between Faelina’s legs, then cried out with surprise as a gout of blood spurted out and splashed her. One of the younger midwives screamed with fright and bolted, but the older woman caught her and gave her a hard slap across the face.

  “Back to your duty! Now is no time to be squeamish!”

  Chastened, the woman returned to help hold Faelina down, but she was clearly terrified. Then the empress let out one drawn-out, throat-rending scream, and the child was born, ripping its way out.

  The senior midwife, for all her calm composure, gasped and recoiled from the sight. Faelina went limp, falling into a swoon.

  “Faelina!” Michael shouted from the corridor.

  There were the sounds of scuffling as he was forcibly restrained.

  “May the gods protect us!” said the senior midwife, backing away and staring at the infant with horror.

  “Mistress! What is it?” one of the others asked.

  Then they looked, and they all started screaming.

  Two of them bolted from the room in wild panic. The third backed up to the wall and pressed herself against it, staring at the child with horror and whimpering hysterically.

  “Oh, Haelyn help us!” Ariel whispered in a shocked tone as she beheld the child.

  Like father, like son, thought Laera. The birth was an abomination.

  Michael fought off whoever was holding him back and burst into the room.

  The first thing he saw was the bloodsoaked bed, and he was brought up short.

  Then he saw his “son.” He caught his breath, and his eyes bulged with horrified disbelief. Aedan and Derwyn both came running in behind him, and they saw it, too, and were shocked into immobility.

  “Oh, gods!” Michael said. Then words failed him.

  The child was dusky, gray-skinned, and twice the size of a normal newborn infant. It had the lower extremities of a satyr, goatlike legs with black, bifurcated hooves. Its hands were claws, and sharp little spikes protruded from its elbows and shoulders. Its mottled gray head seemed too big for its body, covered with bumpy, bony protrusions at the crown and two small, upwardly curving horns just above its temples.

  Its nose resembled a dark snout, and its mouth had all its sharp little teeth already in place at birth. It growled, snapping hungrily and instinctively at the air.

  As they gazed down at the creature with horror, it opened its eyes.

  They were a bright golden-yellow.

  Michael’s knees buckled. Aedan and Derwyn caught him as he slumped, his eyes glazed with shock, and then something in him snapped. With an animal cry of rage and agony, he seized the hilt of Derwyn’s sword and wrenched it from its scabbard, then brought it down upon the abomination lyIng on the bed. Again and again he raised it and brought it down, dismembering the obscene creature. A edan and Derwyn seized him, but he fought them off, and they called for the guards to help restrain him.

  He fought them like a man possessed, but finally, they got the sword away from him. It was slick with thick, dark green blood. They dragged him from the room as he screamed
out Faelina’s name over and over, but not before the guards saw what he had killed.

  Excellent, thought Laera with exhilaration. They will never be able to keep it quiet now.

  “Faelina!” Ariel said, bending over her and stroking her forehead.

  “Faehna . . .”

  Laera stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at the limp form of the empress. “She’s dead,” she said flatly. “Just like her hellspawn.”

  Ariel looked up at her slowly. No words passed between them, but Laera clearly saw the look of sheer loathing in her eyes. So, she thought with sudden realization, she knows. In that one moment, all of Ariel’s thoughts were perfectly transparent.

  Aedan must have told her. She gazed back at her, defiantly, as if daring her to say something.

  “I knew you were a cold-hearted bitch,” said Ariel softly, “but until this moment, I never truly realized how evil you really were.”

  “Evil?” Laera said. They were alone now with the body of the empress, and there was silence in the corridor outside.

  “If I am evil, then what do you call that?” She indicated the remains of the thing Faelina had brought into the world. “How else can you explain such an event except to say it was willed directly by the gods?

  What portent shall we read from this, my lady?”

  She turned and left the room, passing the physician as he was hurrying back. Laera paused, then stood against the wall by the open door, listening.

  She heard the physician’s voice.

  “Oh, no. Is she … ?”

  Ariel’s voice was leaden. “She’s dead.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath as the physician saw what it was Michael had killed.

  Ariel spoke. “How is the emperor?”

  “I have given him a sleeping draught. It is very potent. He was…

  greatly distressed.”

  “Take that… that thing and get rid of it,” said Ariel. “No one else must see it. And then have all the midwives report to me. And the guards who were in here, as well. There must not be a word of this.