They rested for a minute and made no effort to hide or conceal their presence. Soon two men holding lanterns and iron maces appeared and shouted at them, demanding to know who they were and what they were doing.
“I am Minister Renieth from Kunhalvar. I have come bearing an urgent message to your leader, the Radiant Prince, from my lord, Governor Vaina of Kunhalvar.” Renieth waved a rolled-up paper at the men. “With me is Lord Sandun, the Fire Sword. These soldiers are members of the Red Crane Army, which I assume you noticed marched up to the south water gate a few hours ago. I demand that you take us to your leader with all haste.”
“And how did you get here?” one of the mace men barked at them. He had a pugnacious tone to his voice and a stupid expression on his face. Sandun resisted the temptation to laugh at the question. Renieth explained rapidly how Erio, the Red Sword, had found the entrance and told them where it led.
“Erio, eh? Then where is he? Where’s he got to?” the stupid-faced guard responded.
Renieth took a deep breath and explained how Erio had spent days digging in the dirt of the riverbank, searching for the sticks that had been pushed through the earth to mark the end of the tunnel. “Now will you bring us to the prince?”
The stupid-faced guard looked at his companion, who shrugged. “All right, follow.”
They followed the guard down the corridor, which turned sharply. That corridor, also lined with heavy doors, turned again to a third corridor. This corridor of the dungeon was occupied; at the far end, Sandun saw four more guards standing beside a small fireplace. After a long discussion conducted by six of the dumbest men Sandun had ever had the displeasure of listening to, they were finally allowed to exit the dungeon and, with a guard ahead and a guard behind, they climbed another flight of stairs and entered the palace.
With Miri’s praise for the palace of Kemeklos still fresh in his mind, Sandun looked intently all around as they walked through corridors and then outside, along a gently curving path leading to the inner complex of buildings. Only fragments of the old beauty and splendor of the ancient palace could be seen. Two or three of the doorways they passed through had lovely wooden carvings of flowers and birds above the lintels. One of the gardens was not filled with weeds; instead, a few lamps were lit, revealing fanciful shapes made of bronze, casting patterns of light onto the still pond.
There were signs of construction and repair: buckets of paint and ladders in one otherwise empty room, chisels and pieces of colored wood on a workbench in another room, scaffolding that entirely surrounded one small building. But the scale of work was dwarfed by what was undone, what needed repair. Most buildings were dark, many were shuttered, one was partially burned and was just an empty husk with a few roofbeams hanging over a half-collapsed wall.
The smell of smoke and burning was strong in the air. Like Lord Vaina’s palace in Tokolas, this palace was surrounded by a high wall; thus Sandun could see very little of the city outside. However, he could see columns of smoke lit by the flames from underneath. Faint noises coming from outside were assuredly the sounds of fighting, but as the noise echoed through the city, it was transformed into an indistinct rumble, more like a dull roar with no obvious source or direction.
They were led to a central building. It looked to have been constructed recently out of fresh lumber; the paint gleamed in the light from the tens of lamps hanging off the roof beams and from two sizable fires that burned in cauldrons on either side of the doorway.
Many guards stood around the building. Sandun couldn’t count their numbers with accuracy, but he had no doubt there were more than fifty. They wore dark armor and had red cords around their necks tied in strange knots that hung down to the middle of their chests. Sandun had never seen Red Sword warriors dressed like these men before.
“Elite guards,” Renieth said quietly to Sandun. “This must be the grand hall of the Radiant Prince. I hope he is willing to listen.”
Outside the door, another discussion took place. Renieth again explained who he was, why he was here, how he had gained entry. The commanding officer asked a few probing questions and kept his face mostly in shadow, but Sandun saw that he wore a patch over his right eye, and a nasty scar crossed his face. He dispatched a dozen men to go with the dungeon guards; Sandun heard him use the word “prepare,” which Sandun hoped meant preparing to escape the city.
How long had they walked to get here? Sandun asked what time it was.
“Two hours before midnight,” the Red Sword commander replied.
“It took us two hours to travel from the Kunhalvar army camp to this spot,” Sandun said. The one-eyed commander grunted.
After a message from inside the ceremonial hall, the Red Sword captain told them they could enter, but their own guards would have to wait outside. Renieth agreed but looked at Sandun with a worried expression.
“They aren’t following proper protocol,” he whispered as they walked up the steps. “They should have offered us tea and swept the stairs, and the hall warden should be leading the way. They aren’t treating us as equals!”
Inside, the room looked somewhat like Lord Vaina’s council room except that in the back, an imposing statue of the Mavana was seated on an ornate table. Kagne had described a few of his experiences with the Red Swords in Tokolas, so Sandun was not surprised to see the statue. The rose and sword the goddess held also matched what Kagne had described.
Seated in front of the statue on a throne adorned with red paint and gold filigree was a young man who looked to be no more than fourteen years of age. It took no guesswork by Sandun to decide this was the Radiant Prince. Standing around the young man but talking among themselves were advisors, nine in all, ranging in age from men younger than Renieth to a couple of men who looked older than Valo Peli. Sandun was not favorably impressed by the group and least of all by the Radiant Prince. The advisors looked bleary eyed and bloated, as though they were both fat and sick. The prince slouched on this throne with half-lidded eyes, and on every finger was ring with a richly colored gemstone. A large cup rested by his right hand; it looked like it was full of wine. The Radiant Prince seemed both bored and unconcerned, as though his city was not on fire.
Sandun forced himself to consider that Kemeklos had been under siege for more than two months. Fires had been reported from the start of the siege; the pressure of constant fighting could have worn everyone out.
The youngest advisor, a smooth-faced man in a simple robe with a red embroidered headband, introduced them. The Radiant Prince waved his hand in their general direction but hardly glanced at them. His eyes seemed unfocused. Sandun wondered: Was the Radiant Prince drunk? Drugged? Half asleep?
Renieth opened his letter and read out the text to the men assembled.
“The lord of Tokolas, the governor of Kunhalvar greets you, the Radiant Prince, son of the king that was foretold. The governor, leading a mighty army of soldiers and ships, has arrived through the storm of battle, between rain and heat, traveling nearly one thousand tik—all to effect your rescue. The governor urges that you gather your servants, your records, everything that you treasure, and leave Kemeklos as rapidly as possible. The governor urges you to order your men to remove the barrier at the south water gate and send your soldiers out of the city immediately as he is preparing even now to destroy the Kitran soldiers blocking the way. Do not delay! Do not hesitate to evacuate the city. Each moment brings more of the Kitran Empire against both our armies. Haste and urgency are required. Against mighty odds, help has arrived, but you must seize this chance now. So says Governor Jori Vaina of Kunhalvar, your benefactor and friend.”
At these words from Renieth, the prince looked puzzled at first, as if he was having difficulty understanding what Renieth had said. He looked at the oldest man on his right, a man wearing a red robe and with a short stick in his hands. The older man shook his head slightly and pointed at the prince’s feet. The young man straighte
ned up, and a bit of color came to his sallow face.
“You seem not to know who are truly addressing. The Mavana’s herald am I. No mere prince but king am I. King of all Serica. Rule over all the land from this, the ancient capital of the Gold Kingdom that has been given to me. I am blessed by the goddess, and she has chosen this city to be the new center of the world, the pivot point from which all good will flow. Your master, the lord of Tokolas, the governor of Kunhalvar, is but one of many of my loyal servants. He rules Kunhalvar at my command.”
Sandun sighed. The young man could speak well enough, but he was completely delusional. This was going to be harder than he’d expected. The self-proclaimed king continued, speaking louder and more quickly. At the end of his speech, he was slurring his words.
“Your master’s army is my army. He was ordered to come here and place his forces under my command. Why did he not come into the city and bow before me, the anointed one? Why does he send you and this foreigner to address me? You think I will leave the Holy City? You are grotesquely wrong. I am the herald of the Mavana; her perfect truth and radiance will soon shine out from this city like a new sun, lighting up world. The prophet himself revealed this destiny to me!”
He paused and took a breath. At another signal from the man in the red robe, he looked puzzled for a moment and then remembered what he was supposed to say.
“We have seen your master’s army beyond the south water gate. In one thing you are correct: the barricade must be taken down, and orders have already been given. But this is not done so that we may leave the Holy City. No, no. It is done so that your soldiers can more easily join us in defending this city for the brief time that remains until the Mavana descends in glory, right to this very place. You stand upon ground that is shortly to be blessed by the goddess. Think on that, and be in awe.”
Renieth seemed thoroughly dismayed by this response from the boy ruler. He looked beseechingly at the faces of the Radiant Prince’s advisors. They all stared impassively back, except for one advisor, about Renieth’s age, who hung his head and looked down at the floor. Sandun had a terrible feeling that he had stepped into a room of madmen.
Renieth tried a different approach. “My prince, king, ruler of Kemeklos, your city is burning. It is time to pull back, regroup, rebuild. Retreating from Kemeklos is but a temporary setback, one soon to be rectified by the passage of a few months. Your father himself withdrew from this city more than two years ago. Perhaps the Mavana you speak of need not arrive at this palace but will arrive wherever her herald is, like Betesek or Sasuvi?”
As soon as Renieth said Sasuvi, Sandun saw the hostile reaction of the Holy Council and realized the minister had made some mistake. The chief councillor, the one in red, addressed the young man on the throne with anger in his voice:
“Radiant Lord, he dares to mention Sasuvi! It is barely twenty hours since Acting-governor Talmeksi’s message arrived, saying that men from Tokolas were attempting to take control of Sasuvi. This minister’s words are deceptive. Why does he want us to abandon the holy city of Kemeklos? What is the Governor of Tokolas doing sending his soldiers into our city of Sasuvi?”
At this, Sandun broke in. He was furious. Everything said by this self-appointed king and his minister was so far removed from reality, they might just as profitably have been debating whether Saint Pellar’s army had 5,000 men or 5,001.
“You are wasting valuable time!” Sandun said bullishly. “A thousand good men died just two days ago, fighting off Nilin Ulim’s army. We have worked ceaselessly for an entire month on little sleep, bending mind, body, and heart to reach this place before it fell. Your emissaries begged us to come and save you, and now you talk as though you are in charge? You control nothing! The Red Prophet is dead, your city is in flames, your soldiers are struggling to fend of the Kitran Empire as we speak. Lord Vaina beat the Kitran army with no help from you. We risked our lives, we risked everything to come here as fast as humanly possible, and you repay him how? By churlishly demanding he give up command of his army to you? It is laughable. This is your one and only chance to get out while you are able. The Red Crane Army of Kunhalvar can’t stay here long; we are too exposed. You must leave the palace now and give thanks to whatever god you believe in that we came this far and this fast to save your miserable lives!”
The young man on the throne sat up with his eyes bulging, as though he had been slapped in the face. In his anger, Sandun hadn’t used the formal language as Renieth had; instead, he’d used the Serice words he knew. However, this breach in protocol, these words spoken in anger, did not win any converts.
“No one speaks to the Radiant Prince as though he were a commoner!” shouted the chief minister. “The Radiant Prince is king of all of Serica. Such impudence—to address His Majesty in such a fashion. Guards! Seize these men and confine them till the council shall decide their fate.”
“Wait!” Renieth cried out. “This is the Fire Sword! The master of the burning blade! What are you doing?”
“The Fire Sword? Bah.” The chief minister’s contempt for Sandun was blazing in his eyes. “The Mavana is the one, the only, the pure source of all blessings and light. This one’s tricks of fire and smoke mean nothing; they count as nothing. The Mavana alone is the source of light. She alone is the truth. She will arrive—soon—and sweep away all false beliefs. Get these unbelievers out of my sight!”
Red Sword guards ran out from the shadows and took Sandun’s sword and Renieth’s dagger. The two men were marched out of the audience chamber and down the steps, not roughly but with no hesitation. Their six guards had been disarmed as well and were being tied up as Sandun and Renieth were taken past them to a long building deeper in the palace complex. At least they weren’t going to the dungeon; Sandun thought that was a hopeful sign.
In this new building, they were taken to the back and then down a flight of stairs, to the basement level. The rooms had the air of a barracks, though only a few soldiers were visible inside. In the basement, they were escorted to a small room with a thick but finely made wooden door. A small oil lamp, an extra chair, and a pot of hot water were placed inside.
Renieth quietly said to their escorting guards, “You know, we came here to rescue you. We are on the same side. They have taken our words amiss.”
“I agree,” one the guards said apologetically. “I heard of your victory at Devek yesterday. Please be patient. Cooler heads should prevail.”
The other Red Sword warrior spoke up. “We are just following orders, Minister. The holy councilors, they don’t see what is happening. The people in Kemeklos are hanging on by their fingernails, and our leaders—they just don’t know. Ever since the Prophet died, it seems no one has been in his right mind.”
Despite their words, the guards closed and locked the door. Sandun sat on the chair while Renieth sat cross legged on the thin mattress. Between them they drank the hot water rapidly. The room was like a very solid box; the only ventilation was from a narrow rectangular opening near the bottom of the door.
Renieth spoke after half an hour of silence.
“The Great Sage’s white beard! I’m truly sorry, Opmi Sandun. I had no idea that meeting would go so poorly. This scribe has failed. I thought that they would at least respect you. But no, I brought you into danger without purpose.”
“Because of my sword?”
“That, yes. I reasoned that they believe in magic and were weak minded. Consequently, they should respect you and your sword as…holy.” He shook his head. “I misjudged them. It’s obvious to me now. Because your sword does not come from the Mavana, it’s not blessed by her. Thus, it’s meaningless to them.”
“I suppose I didn’t help,” Sandun said bitterly. “By the Spear, we worked so hard to get this expedition going. Night and day, against all odds, we did it. And then, two days ago, we fought against the entire Kitran cavalry and won, without their help! A thousand men died to bring
us that victory. I was nearly killed in the last charge. Lord Vaina took an incredible risk to come here. To listen to that stupid boy and his stuffed-turkey advisors telling us we must now obey them? By Sho’Ash, I am still angry!”
Renieth smiled. “For a moment, I feared you were about to draw and attack the prince. I couldn’t decide if I should seek to restrain you or attack him myself.”
“I can say this to you now: I consider Lord Vaina the true king of Serica. The boy’s casual dismissal of Lord Vaina was too much for me. I’m a failure as a diplomat myself; I should have bitten my tongue and stayed silent.”
“Perhaps you know, my colleagues and I have urged Lord Vaina to claim the throne. He has refused, consistently. There are both benefits and costs to such a decision. For example, he could not have led this expedition were he king.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Sandun. “Throughout the Archipelago, throughout all the world, kings lead their armies into battle. The king of Kelten is expected to lead the Kelten army. Why not the king of Serica?”
“In Serica, what you say is done in the rest of the world is no longer done. The last Serice king to lead his soldiers into battle was in the early years of the Gold Kingdom, more than seven hundred years ago. Since that time, the kings of Serica send their generals and war leaders to fight, but the king himself does not go.”
Sandun shook his head in disbelief at Renieth’s words.
“It is better. Our way is better.” Renieth spoke with confidence. “The king is the heart and soul of the land. If Lord Vaina were…I won’t even say the words, but you know what I am thinking. Without him, we are doomed. Kunhalvar will fall apart in months or even weeks. Thousands, tens of thousands would die in such a calamity. And he took the risk of leading the Red Crane Army against Nilin—for what? So he could win a glorious victory? Valo Peli should have been the war leader, or General Erdis. Lord Vaina knows it is true. Why else would he cede command an hour into the battle?” Renieth rubbed his forehead and checked the teapot; it was empty. “I fear the lack of air has gone to my head. Please don’t tell him I said this. I must write him a formal document on this matter when we return to Tokolas.”
The Fire Sword Page 41