Darkened Blade: A Fallen Blade Novel (10 page)

I moved away from the ewer as the smoke thickened, giving myself space to draw if she needed my swords. “What is it?”

Siri stepped out of smoke. “News from the north and none of it good. Journeyman Kumi has just arrived from Riada. She foundered two horses getting here and went straight to Jax. I thought it best to listen in. There’s an army storming up the pass from the Kvanas.”

“The fortress at the mouth of the pass?” I asked, skipping over the obvious question of how she’d managed to listen in—she was Siri. “What happened there?” The Dalridian people took pride in the fact that it had never fallen but through treason in all the years since the founding of the kingdom.

“It was taken. The details are hazy, but Kumi said that they believe the invaders used catapults to launch a force of the restless dead over the walls into the courtyard in the deep of the night.”

“Risen,” said Triss.

“Almost certainly, with their hidden brethren leading the army. The Kvanas are the lands closest to Heaven’s Reach and among the most vulnerable to the Son of Heaven given the fragmentation of their governance and relative lack of mages among the clan leaders.”

“It’s a Caeni army?” I asked.

“Kumi didn’t say before I left to tell you, but that’s most likely. They’re the most settled of the great clans and least aggressive, but the pass lies deep in southern Caen. If it were Avarsi, Amrli, or Dvali they would have to come through the Caeni and that would mean internal war.”

The high arid plains of the Kvanas were terrible for farming and sparsely populated. The clans that eked out a living there were nomadic, a horse-centered culture that followed
the herds as they grazed their way back and forth across the landscape. They lived most of the year in round felt tents, coming together only at the height of the green season for the swapping of brides and grooms and the renewal of old grudges.

They were ruled locally by their clan chieftains for the most part, though the chiefs in turn answered to the four high khans, who were nominally obliged to the great khan. But it had been generations since a great khan held any true power. These days, the Khan of Khans, Ruler of the Kvanas, and Protector of the Clans mostly served as a game piece for the power struggles of the high khans, alternately being raided or traded from one to another along with his family and official court.

“I appreciate the warning, Siri, but why not just wait for Jax to tell me herself?”

“Because the job of First Blade has become political. I believe Jax when she says she doesn’t want it, but there’s Maryam to worry about at the very least. If it appears that you have unusual sources of information, it will help you build your authority in the long run, and that means less chance that someone will try to stick me with the job, or force it on Jax.”

“Good thinking,” said Triss.

“Politics!” hissed Kyrissa.

Siri continued, “Now, you don’t have much time. If I’ve a portal of smoke to use as a shortcut, I can move faster than Jax or her messengers, but I expect the knock will come any—”

Someone hammered on my door.

“And that’s my cue to slip out the same way I came in—which ability is a secret I’ve yet to share with anyone here.” Siri vanished in a puff of smoke.

Somehow I didn’t think it was Altia back with my breakfast. “Come.”

Faran opened the door. “The Kvanas have united under the new great khan,” she said without preamble. “They’re burning Riada as we speak.”

I blinked. “How did
you
know that?”

“I take it from your lack of surprise that I’m not bringing fresh news.” She grinned. “Good on Siri.”

“Not entirely fresh, no, though I didn’t know that the clans had united.”

“Siri didn’t stay long enough to hear that, then. Sensible of her, since she didn’t know how soon they’d head this way.”

“But you do?” I asked.

“Not precisely, but Kelos said he’d delay them as long as he could without making it obvious what he was doing.”

That set my head a-spin. “Since when do you and Kelos get along?”

“We don’t. But the venues for listening in on Jax’s receiving room are very limited if you can’t slip in and out by way of the hearth smoke. Kelos and I bumped into each other in Javan’s garderobe, and that didn’t leave a lot of room for lies about what we both were doing there.”

“And Javan?”

“Still asleep when I left. We’re neither of us amateurs. Now, do you think it would be best if you waited here for Jax to come to you? Maybe sitting over at the desk and looking bored when she announces her news? Or would it be better to casually meet her on the way and ask, ‘What news of the invasion?’”

I sighed. I really didn’t want to have to play this game, but if I was going to do it, I might as well do it right. “Meet her on the way. Better to have it happen as publicly as possible, since this school’s walls have a lot more ears than most. That means I need to get going.”

“I’ll close up behind you. Best if you aren’t seen to have an obvious informant.”

She was right, so I went. I hadn’t gone fifty feet before I bumped into Altia. She had a tray with a wide variety of breakfast options on it. Apparently she had decided to bring me half the kitchen.

“Master Aral?” she said, obviously surprised to see me up and moving. “I thought you weren’t planning on coming down. . . .”

“Things have changed, for the worse. The Kvani are
invading Dalridia, which means I’m going to have to eat on the move. If you’re willing to follow along with that tray, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, anything you need,” she said, and the softness had left her voice while one hand dropped to check the hang of the long dagger at her hip. Here was a young Blade in training ready to do whatever was required of her, even if it meant killing her former countrymen. Maybe she wasn’t as naïve as Faran had told me—though that conversation lay two years in the past now, and things change. “The sausages are cool enough for fingers and so are the rolls. Let me make you a quick sandwich.”

She did so, and I chewed on that while we headed down the main stairs of the guest wing. Jax occupied the royal chambers, which lay in the opposite wing of the castle. The arrangement was specifically designed to make it difficult for guests to slip quietly across and murder the royal family, which probably says a good deal about Dalridian politics, and meant that I had to pass through the entrance to the great hall to get there. Whether it was by happy chance—possible—or the machinations of Kelos—far more likely—that most public of central foyers is where I met up with Jax. She was trailing Kumi, Maryam, Roric, Kelos, and a man I didn’t know dressed in the royal livery of Dalridia.

Before she could speak, I asked, “How bad is the situation in Riada?” I kept my voice calm but pitched it to carry—again, if I must play the part I would do it up properly. “And with your brother?”

Maryam and Kumi both visibly started, though Roric hardly blinked. In general Roric retained the same stoically placid expression right up until the point where his temper cracked and he started twisting people’s heads off. It was one of his stronger assets as a potential assassin. The great hall was open, and I could hear the sounds of eating from within begin to go quiet as a ripple of whispers led away from the door. Kelos showed no surprise, of course. To her credit, neither did Jax, only sadness.

“My brother is most likely dead,” replied Jax, her voice
steady. “As king, he led the counter-attack that met the Kvani at the top of the pass. If Riada is burning, and Garis tells me it is”—she touched the shoulder of the messenger—“then he will have fallen in the battle. Dead, badly wounded, or taken. I see no other chance. Given that the risen lead the van, I can only hope that Eian has died the true death and that his corpse will not be used as some undead puppet to sit the throne for the Son of Heaven.”

“He was a mage,” I said. “There is no concealing the death of his familiar. Would not the people notice?”

Jax shrugged. “The ones who knew him, certainly, but if his tenure were brief enough, it might go unremarked. Were it me in charge of the thing, I would stage a formal surrender and abdication using his animate corpse to dress up the wounds of conquest a bit.” Her voice had grown bitter and angry by then and I was reminded that she had taken over the direction of her brother’s spy service when she returned home.

“Do we know the pretext of the invasion?” I asked. The real reason was obvious enough—the Son knew that Toragana had come to us, and he feared what we might now do.

Jax turned to Garis. “Give him the scroll.”

Wordlessly, the messenger reached into his bag and handed over a slender roll of parchment. I unrolled it and . . . began to swear.

It read:

Be it known that Hasar, Khan of Khans, has learned of the revival of the cult of Namara, so-called goddess of justice under the auspices of the throne of Dalridia. The society of assassins must never be allowed to flourish again, and so it is with the utmost sadness that Hasar has united the clans and leads them now in war against this harborer of heretics.

The people of Dalridia will be harmed only inasmuch as they give succor to these cultists. Further, once the scourge of Namara’s cultists has been stamped out, the great khan will withdraw his forces from the lands of
Dalridia. He will leave only those troops needed to properly restore order and see a new king set upon the Dalridian throne, one who shares none of the tainted blood of the so-called crown princess, Jax Elarson, known by some as Seldansbane, who is proscribed of Heaven.

“What does it say?” asked Faran, coming from the great hall.

I read it again, aloud this time.

“Crown princess?” asked Siri—she had just entered through the door that led to the drawbridge, as though she’d been out of the castle and only recently returned. Nice touch that, since no one knew to suspect that she had secret ways of coming and going.

Jax rolled her eyes. “I renounced all titles and inheritances when I went to the temple. Eian wanted me to reclaim the coronet when I came back to Dalridia, but I refused. I am no princess, nor ever shall be again.” She turned now to Garis. “
Which
is why you must take the crown to someone else.”

“The crown?” I asked.

Jax nodded. “Along with the scroll, my brother sent the crown to me.”

“I left the king an hour before the battle,” said Garis. “Since I bore the crown, he sent me by gryphon back and told me to wait on the heights above Riada city to see how things fared. When the city burned I came here, arriving on Journeyman Kumi’s heels.” He bowed to Jax. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but your brother’s orders were very specific. I was to bring the crown to you, and you alone.” He lifted a slender circlet of gold studded with emeralds from the bag and held it out to her.

“I don’t want the fucking thing!” Jax snarled, slapping it out of his hands so that it hit the floor and rolled away. “There is no one in all the world who would be a worse choice for the throne of Dalridia right now. Or, hadn’t you noticed the army that is currently burning its way across the kingdom on its way to this spot? The army that is coming
here to kill all of us?” She threw her hands wide to encompass the whole of the school.

“I am a poison to this realm as are all of my kind,” she continued. “When we had nowhere else to go, my brother took us in and gave us sanctuary. For that kindness he has now paid with his life and the lives of who knows how many thousands of our people. And it is only just beginning. If you wish to see anything of Dalridia survive, you will take that crown as far away from me as you possibly can, because putting it on my head is no more nor less than shoveling our people into a fire, and I have killed enough of you already. Don’t you think?”

Her back was straight, and her tone as hard as iron, but there were tears rolling down her cheeks. Suddenly, all of my worries about the politics of the order and playing things just right tasted like bitterest folly. What did any of that matter? We had not even moved directly against the Son yet, and already the dead numbered in the tens of thousands. A toll that included the much loved brother of a woman I had very nearly married. And this was only a foretaste of the wars that would follow if I killed Heaven’s Son.

I moved to put a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, Jax, I am so, so sorry. This is on me, not you. If I had not come here—”

Jax wheeled on me. “Aral. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. You did not build a school here on ground given to me by my brother. You did not collect what was left of the order and bring them here to my brother’s kingdom. You are not responsible for this.”

“But—”

“Did I, or did I not, tell you to shut up?” Her eyes burned with a cold rage that I had never seen there before—Jax normally ran hot. “Your arrival may have been the trigger that set the bolt winging from the crossbow, but this is on my shoulders and I will
not
share my guilt with you.

“Now, you are First fucking Blade, and what is left of your charge has an army bearing down on it. You need to get over your whole tragic angst thing, and make some decisions about what happens next. I have contingency plans
about getting out of the country, but which way we go and what happens after that is all on you.”

She’s right,
sent Triss.

I know.

I took a deep breath before speaking. “Roric, you’re with me. I need to know what the plans for evacuating the castle look like. Siri, Faran, go with Maryam and do whatever she tells you needs doing to get us out of here. Kelos . . . you’d better come with me, too. I need to think out what happens next, and you’re the man who taught me strategy. Jax, I’m going to the council room. I want you to take at least a few minutes of time for yourself, but come as soon as you’re ready. Doing something won’t help with the grief, but it might distract. Move, people!”

As I walked away I found that Altia had fallen in behind me. “Shouldn’t you be collecting your gear?” I asked.

“You haven’t finished your breakfast, and you may need a runner on short notice. I keep a bag packed, as Master Jax has taught us. Maryam saw me with you, she will have Jaeris fetch mine. Anything else I can do without. Here is another sandwich, with a bit more in it than just sausage.” She had not been idle while the rest of us talked.