Crimson

by Warren Fahy

  The Khalwairn dropped the scepter, and he turned, seizing Blox around the throat. He crushed his Hala neck even as Toy’s cold venom froze his body’s sinews.

  Like a gossamer hammer the bolt thrown by the Gairanor dropped from the sky, almost too fast to see. It smote them where they stood and bounced off the terrace, dragging Drewgor and Blox in red sparks and gray ash over the square. The crowds were struck silent as the trail of cinders drifted and dissipated in the sky.

  The grinning Nekkrosites with switched heads collapsed to natural deaths on the terrace.

  The clouds overhead dispersed with grumbles of thunder and bolts of lightning.

  The rest of the Nekkrosites fled, and those who had committed crimes against their fellow Ameulintians under Blox’s authority ran fastest though their reputations would chase them faster. Those who were most notorious during Blox’s reign were immediately caught, however, and their fate was as lawless as their rule.

  Most of the Mayoral Guard turned readily to Trevin’s service and they seized Rishen, so that the high lord could be tried before his fellow citizens. Yet his victims were too many for Rishen to face, and the High Legate stabbed himself in the chest with a dagger as he was taken away. He looked at Lelinair, who had given him the knife, but she did not waste her eyes on him for even a moment.

  Neuvia searched for Toy when she suddenly felt him coiling around her neck. A

  Then Trevin took her hand and they strode to the balustrade of the high terrace to look out over the square. He lifted his scepter to calm the cheering crowds and then addressed the people.

  “Ameulis has suffered greatly since I have been king!”

  The crowds remained strangely as his voice rang out.

  “We have suffered long enough. The sky is clear, the tyranny is tamed. I will only raise my hand to defend or promote and never to attack or destroy. Let us feast and celebrate in this square, my fellow countrymen.”

  An exaltation that sounded like a single voice rose from Bartering Square in answer.

  Torches were kindled around the high terrace. Its paving stones had been washed of the blood spilled by Drewgor. Long tables were set out for the crew of the Sea Mare and the King and Queen.

  Trevin walked to the balustrade and lifted Gieron’s star before the people after all of his guests had arrived. The diamond burned blue like the North Star that Trevin had reluctantly followed to Ameulis seven years ago. “Ameulis!” he called. “Let us play a game!”

  The people applauded, full of mirth across the broad square, passing his challenge along in a whispered wave.

  “Look at the sky!” Trevin pointed upward with the golden scepter, whose stone erupted sapphire sparks that reached out to a thousand stars above.

  All watched as the starry dome detached and slowly spun, free of the horizon.

  Hoots, cries, and gasps arose as Trevin laughed and spread his arms. “My people, it is only an illusion,” he said. “I cannot move the stars! Only we in Gieron’s Square may see a sky like this tonight. Yet note the lion pouncing in the west, the ship tossing in the south, the horse galloping in the east and the bird flying in the north! Three times tonight they will be aligned with the compass, and the stars will shine true in the sky. Then all must say ‘Cheers!’ or drink twice what remains in their mug!”

  Tears rimmed Neuvia’s eyes as she heard and saw the crowd’s pleasure ripple across them below.

  “Ah, there, you missed it!” Trevin cried. “All must drink!”

  There was an uproar as all toasted Trevin and his Queen and music broke out everywhere.

  Trevin sat by Neuvia and her mother, Nardleen, whose dour face had never been so bright. Their guests of honor were the crew of the Sea Mare, her 41 survivors, who had all been knighted and were now waited upon as nobility at the five tables around their King.

  At the King and Queen’s table, Bultin shoveled food and bailed beer down his hatch, his mighty crystal sword sparkling at his hip. Jootle kept stealing food right out of Feferl’s mouth, both dressed in finest suits of yellow velvet. Bruthru Zee sat next to a glowing Senthellzia, who was now pregnant with the Prince of Demold’s seed, and Harm gripped the high back of her chair protectively.

  At another table, Rawley had fitted his fancy spare leg to his knee and washed his sooty face and shaved his fried beard, looking surprisingly fresh. Tobbs’s eyebrows had filled in a bit, for his part, his pale skin tawny and his baby fat burned off enough for the serving maids to take special note of him. As Bombo spoke with his mouth too full, Pickle took the opportunity to translate for him.

  Most surprising of all that night, however, was Sowernut, perhaps, who was actually heard exaggerating their adventures while Overly corrected him.

  The Queen rose and rang a hand bell.

  All those seated on the high terrace turned to her now.

  “The King has an announcement!” she said as Trevin rose beside her.

  “Nil Ramesis shall be Vice-Admiral of the Royal Navy,” he proclaimed.

  Nil shook his head emphatically. “No, please, my lord! I should not want to be away at sea without Lelinair any longer. I beg a different post, with all respect!”

  All present laughed as Trevin nodded graciously. “You are free from obeying my wishes as are all Ameulintians, of course! Well, then you shall be Royal Naval Architect and Honorary Admiral during your very infrequent times at sea, during which Lelinair should always be given a berth by your side, if she so chooses. How would that be, Admiral Ramesis?”

  “I approve, then, my lord!” Lelinair said.

  “It’s the perfect arrangement.” Nil laughed, delighted.

  “I shall depend on your counsel, my friend!” Trevin said. “And I request the Sea Mare for my flagship, and hereby commission 50 more ships like her to protect our shores.”

  “I thank you, lord!” Nil blushed and bowed.

  Karlok elbowed the captain. “There ya go, Nilly!”

  “And Karlok, you shall be my Vice-Admiral,” said Trevin. “And this time I may not take no for an answer!”

  Karlok rose, buoyed by both humility and pride. “I shall be honored, my lord!”

  “Good! As for the other men of the Sea Mare, including those who are not with us now, I proclaim all of you my honorary officers of the Royal Navy.”

  The musicians on the lower tiers played a dashing melody to suit Trevin’s stargazing contest. Many were dancing and singing across the square below beneath the First Moon.

  Stealing away as the night progressed, Nil and Lelinair found a secret place on the stairs below and embraced, as though the world no longer existed now that it was saved.

  And from the terrace above them Trevin and Neuvia gazed over the square and the moonlit Gulf of Gwylor, where the Lightstone Tower now glowed like a candle on the Seventh Isle at the end of the Lightstone Jetty, guarding that great harbor. They smiled at each other without words, like their first smile, full of hope. For the world was like a dream that finally woke.