Darkstone - An Evil Reborn (Book 4) (23 page)

Chapter Twenty

~

“h
ow do I look?” Daryaku said.

Peleor shrugged. “Like Vishan Daryaku. I don’t see much of a difference except in your expressions.”

Vishan felt her shock. “But I should have transformed into your image!” Now he felt her rage. “I wanted to replace Shalil with an image of himself.”

As you did your father?

“Keep your thoughts to yourself!” Daryaku said, her words intended for Vishan. “Somehow, with Vishan inside of me, I’ve lost the ability to transform.” She put her hands into fists and stamped her feet in frustration.

“You’re a woman!” Peleor said. Vish heard the surprise in his voice.

“So what?” Daryaku said. “That doesn’t change anything.”

Peleor made a face. “I knew there was something very odd about you that kept me from thinking of you as Vishan. Now I know why. So, the Grand Emperor was a Grand Empress.” Peleor held out his hands. “It doesn’t make any difference to me, it scratches an itch I’ve had about you. I’m just fine with your plan, except it appears that Vishan will have to rise to the throne, right?”

“Right. And we will have to take longer to pacify Dakkor. There are those who will not accept Vishan as the heir,” Daryaku said. “I know from experience. My father took much longer than he thought he would when his own father died.”

That was one thing that didn’t change from then to now,
thought Vish.
More game playing.
He sighed as well as he could.

~

“Four sons are between Vishan and the Emperor,” Peleor said. “I have friends at the Sorcerer’s Tower who will take care of them all at once. All accidents, but if they happen at the same time we will need to take care of Shalil simultaneously. Vishan will be feared as he takes the Imperial Throne.”

“Indeed,” Daryaku said smiling. “Make it so. Vish will kill his father as soon as Vish is summoned into his father’s presence just after the deaths.”

Where had the Peleor gone that he had known? Had the Darkstone carried some taint that made Peleor a creature of Daryaku? Vishan wished he could have stopped the coming carnage, but Daryaku sat in his old palace rooms waiting for news of his brothers’ deaths.

They didn’t have to wait long. Lystan, his Political Science tutor, rushed into his rooms.

“Your brothers are dead, all of them. Of 21 sons ahead of you in the line of succession, only you remain, alone. I would have never thought. How did you do it? I didn’t take you for such a cold-blooded killer.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you this, for I fear Shalil’s days are also numbered.” Daryaku said. She had mounted the Darkstone on a long golden chain and twirled it around their finger. “You are correct, Lystan. I value your knowledge of the Empire and will use you well.” They stood and walked to Lystan. Daryaku grabbed Lystan’s hand and pressed it to the stone.

“There,” Daryaku said. “Some can be turned with promises of power and others need a little help, Vishan.” They looked into Lystan’s eyes. “You will give me the knowledge I need to pacify all of Dakkor.”

“I will.” Lystan said. “I will.” He repeated.

Vishan could feel the amused smile on their face. “Prepare a strategy to take control of all of the countries on this continent. Complete control.”

“I’m afraid that it will only be pacified through brutal force,” Lystan said.

“Then put that into your strategy,” Daryaku commanded. “Now where is the Moonstone?”

“It is in the possession of Duke Mistad of Bomai in Serytar,” Lystan said.

“Thank you. Go develop the strategy.” Daryaku watched Lystan leave and close the door.

“He won’t last long, Vishan,” Daryaku said twirling the Darkstone once more.

Why not?

“They never do. He’ll have to follow my orders, and then do everything he can to betray me. I’ve seen it enough before.” Daryaku sighed. “Peleor willingly accepted me, but Lystan rebels within himself.” She waved their hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. By the time he expires, I’ll have what I want.”

A knock on the door sent a jolt through their body. Vishan felt Daryaku’s grow tense.

“The Emperor requests Vishan Daryaku’s immediate presence,” the messenger said.

Vishan’s world went dark.

~

Daryaku woke him up. The Emperor’s study looked much the same as when he reported from his Peshakan tour.

“Vishan, I see you rose from the dead well enough.” Shalil narrowed his eyes. “You’ve changed though. Your eyes have a more feral cast, as well I can imagine. Killing Fenakyr’s ward in your escape and this nonsense with your brothers.” Shalil fingered the dagger that Vishan had always kept on his person. The guards must have taken it from Daryaku while he remained inactive in their mind.

“I didn’t spill a drop of blood,” Daryaku said.

Shalil looked out of his wall of windows and then back at them. “I thought better of you, Vishan. I had expected you to kill Fenakyr. But the methods you just used on my sons bother me. No consideration, no finesse. How did you kill Yalla?”

His father had just extended his claws. Shalil’s eyes burned with the release of pent-up fury. “Why did you kill her? I love all of my wives.” Shalil stood up and held the dagger.

Daryaku recognized the blade.
That was made in my grandfather’s time. It will cut through bone,
she said through their link.

Her fear came through clearly. His father approached him. Daryaku backed up. They threw a vase at the Emperor, but he cast it aside.

“You aren’t Vishan Daryaku. That’s his body, but not his mind. What have you become? You retreat like a woman.” Shalil paused. “Ah, Vishan, you are possessed.” His father definitely had used power.

Vish felt the flash of anger. Daryaku attacked the Emperor with her fingers in the shape of claws. Why did she do that?

The Emperor slashed at their left arm. It nearly cut through Daryaku’s magical shield, leaving the hand numb. But Daryaku’s right hand made it to the Emperor’s face. She touched him once and then again. Vishan felt the same power that had killed his mother. The emperor sagged to the floor. His eyes already glazed with death.

Vishan could feel Daryaku gloat until she shoved him into blackness.

~

Muted cheers broke out as Vishan awakened to feeling a weight upon their head. He looked out at the crowd of nobles and the white and gold robes of the Dakkoran Empire swirling at his feet, looking down from the Throne of One Thousand Steps. From Daryaku, he felt triumph.

He didn’t feel like celebrating his rise to power—Daryaku’s rise to power—over the death of his brothers, his mother and his father. As inscrutable as his father was, Vishan discovered that he still regarded him as a great man. Now the great man lay in a grave.

Enjoy the moment with me,
Daryaku said as they rose, waving to the crowd.

Vish refused to share in her triumph.

No sooner did the crown leave their head than an aide led them away. They waved to the crowd and Vishan became an observer again. They entered a room. Peleor wore grand clothes, not the gray robes of a sorcerer. A sheaf of papers lay on the table.

“It’s too bad Lystan hanged himself after completing these,” Daryaku said. “But I expected something like this to happen weeks ago. He was much stronger than he looked.”

What did that say about Peleor? Vishan thought. In a way he was jealous of his father, his mother, Fateem and Lystan. They had by one way or another managed to leave this nightmare, but whatever strange link he had with Daryaku, Vish remained to suffer.

“Now, I need men to capture the Moonstone. Who does such things in the Empire?” Daryaku began to read Lystan’s plan. Vishan could only read what Daryaku’s eyes focused on. “Ah, a man by the name of Gasyngar. Find him. I want Gasyngar here at once.”

Peleor rushed out of the room. She had him running for her. Was that the secret to rule? Have everyone so intimidated that they rushed to do her bidding?

Daryaku ruffled his mind. “You don’t know much about this Duke Mistad, do you?”

Vishan knew the Grand Duke of Serytar and not much about Bomai.

Serytar is the largest client-state of Dakkor, but the Grand Duke lets his nobles rule on their own. The Serytarans have a strong penchant for independence and he rules with a very light hand.  Bomai is the most independent of Serytar’s duchies.

“You didn’t tell me anything that I didn’t pull out of your mind. Your father is a fool to treat his subjects with such passivity… or should I say he was a fool. All people will eventually bite the hand that rules them. That won’t happen in Dakkor any longer.”

Then don’t ask me. I assume you mean to make everyone a slave?

“In effect, yes. All will bow and do what I wish. If they don’t, then all that they have will be forfeit to the empire. My father tried it a different way and looked where it got him.”

Dead at your hand.
Vishan let his anger take him.
And look where your approach got you, dead at the hands of a subject. The only difference is that I would imagine your subjects were more—
Daryaku banished him from her. Vishan knew her subjects were treated like slaves with her making all of the decisions and any deviance would be met with punishment. He’d read about kingdoms and empires like that. For all of his father’s faults, Emperor Shalil let people live their lives in relative freedom, despite the awful games he played.

Vishan knew he was entirely impotent. He could castigate Daryaku all he wanted, but he couldn’t do anything about it. The injustice of it all rankled him. He didn’t want to turn into a Fenakyr or even his father. He was powerless to do anything, but he could dedicate his mind to developing a better way to rule, even if it was by doing the exact opposite that Daryaku did.

~

“The Duke and his wife fled, Emperor,” the man who knelt in front of them.

“And, Gasyngar?” Daryaku said.

“We sent twenty men on the next ship to Besseth. We can’t catch them on the sea, but we will on the land. The ship will dock at a small port at the northwestern tip of Valetan.”

“Do you have any men there?”

Gasyngar thought about his answer. “A few, five or six men and as many sorcerers. Mistad and his wife are powerful.”

“Then send a bird. It will beat any ship.”

“I can’t just send a bird, your Eminence. It needs to fly to Serytar, and then another bird will head east to Besseth.”

Daryaku growled like a cat. Vishan thought it a rather effeminate growl. “Then do both and immediately. Now, get out of my sight.”

So the Moonstone had left Dakkor. Vishan gave a little shout to himself. Daryaku didn’t like to fail, but fail she had. The new edicts were about ready to implement. She had taught a persuasion spell to Peleor. It worked better on men who were intent on following orders and they were in the process of sifting through the candidates to make into a loyal cadre of officers and new rulers.

Vishan wondered if she had to have so many soldiers guard her own people, how could she conquer the world?

~

Four weeks later the bad news arrived from the North.

Daryaku held the small scroll from a bird. “Duke Mistad and wife are dead after a series of attacks by assassins and sorcerers. There was an infant, but it did not have the Moonstone. The duke’s belongings were searched, but we could not find it on his person. It is presumed lost. Fools!” She screamed the last and the courtiers that Vishan could see through their eyes cringed.

Yes! He felt bad for the Duke and his wife and perhaps the infant if they had killed it. Perhaps the stone wouldn’t be found at all. Daryaku and he would die without restoring the Purestone.

After the Moonstone had been lost, she closed down the Council and began to rule Dakkor all on her own, without resistance of any kind.

She rarely sought him out, but perhaps Daryaku felt it easier to let him look on, rather than shut him away. Vishan didn’t know what he feared most, seeing her ruling philosophy implemented or the sweet oblivion of death.

Vishan began to hate Daryaku and yet it only made her gloat all the more when they interacted in his mind. He likened her to Fenakyr, a foolish man with nothing but the worst of intentions. He found he could retreat into his little corner, but Daryaku could yank him out at any time. As she did so, Vishan observed that the state of Dakkor only deteriorated.