In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) (2 page)

“The Law of the Swords is complex, however. If, for example, the king were to die through war, misadventure, or assassination, and his Sword then lost, any of the eight remaining Swords may restore the throne to the kingdom of Svieda, regardless of his normal place in succession.”

“Fascinating,” Mussack said, staring at Maelgyn’s sword. “Is the sword magic?

“Magic?” Maelgyn scoffed. “Of course not. Magic is simply the ability some people have to control forces that affect certain metals such as iron and nickel. There are quite a few stories you’ll hear about magic spells which turn people into frogs or some silly thing like that, but it doesn’t really work that way.”

“What do you know about magic, anyway?” said Mussack. “Magic affects people, not just metal.”

Sword Prince Brode stared at Mussack. “You do realize Maelgyn spent the first fifteen years of his life training as a mage, don’t you?”

“Master Maelgyn is correct,” Troubuxet interrupted, taking a step toward the students to intervene. “Have you ever bit your lip and tasted your own blood? There’s metal in all kinds of things you wouldn’t think of – sea water, dirt, rocks, some fruits and vegetables. When you’re talking about how slight the trace of iron is in human blood, though, it takes quite a bit of power and concentration to affect people. This is why even the weak magical field of a lodestone can offer protection against your average mage. But know this – a truly skilled mage is more powerful than a whole array of lodestones, and can force his magic through the protection they provide with little effort. The only real defense against magic is dragonhide.”

“Forget this jabbering about magic,” Mussack grumbled in frustration. “We were talking about the Swords of Svieda.” He paused, biting his lip again.

There was an awkward silence. Once more, Maelgyn felt that Mussack seemed unusually tense and hesitant.

“Well then,” Mussack finally went on, clearing his throat. “It’s clear I’ll have to have one of my own.”

“Well, that’s not likely unless you were to marry into the royal line,” Troubuxet replied.

“Oh, that’s no problem,” Mussack said crisply, turning to Maelgyn. He stepped forward and stood straight up, his eyes narrowing maliciously as he found his resolve. “This runt will just have to give me his.”

Maelgyn couldn’t believe his ears for a moment, but then stood up in anger. “Excuse me, but did you just tell me to give you my Sword?”

“Yes,” Mussack agreed. “It’s much too valuable of a bauble to be wasted on a whelp like yourself.”

Maelgyn stared at Mussack, his expression calm but deadly. Childish pranks were one thing; hostile demands by a foreign royal were quite another. “Such demands are not those of an ally, Prince Mussack. My Sword leaves me only if I die or leave the line of succession, and not before.”

“Exactly. I will take your place in the line of succession, and you will relinquish it,” Mussack explained, reaching out his hand. “So, give it here!”

Everyone was still for a few moments before Mussack impatiently jumped for Maelgyn’s sword. Without a second’s thought, all three Sword Princes had their weapons drawn and pointed at the Sho’Curlas prince.

“W-wait,” Troubuxet stuttered. “I don’t think we should all be so hasty. Master Mussack is just playing with you all, I’m sure...”

“Of course,” said Maelgyn, his tone dangerously quiet and obliging. “If Mussack backs down, I will be glad to assume that he wasn’t aware that the penalty for intentionally touching a Sword without permission or right is the death of the offender. Or that it is occasionally among my functions as Sword Prince to dispense justice in all capital crimes in the name of the King.”

“Oh, but I have the right,” Mussack said, now not even hiding his arrogance, even to Troubuxet. “I am a royal of the Sho’Curlas line. I supersede all other authorities wherever I go, save my father’s or uncle’s. By my authority and right as a Prince of Sho’Curlas, I
demand
that sword.”

Troubuxet, shaking visibly, stepped in to defuse the situation and reassert his control of the class. “Now see here, Master Mussack. This is enough – if you do not desist, I will not only have you thrown out of my class, I’ll have the king throw you out of Svieda as well!”

“Hmm,” came a slick voice from behind him. Prince Hussack of Sho’Curlas had returned, and was now approaching his son. “We will see about that. Why don’t we head over to King Gilbereth’s throne room and ask him who is in the right? And get that stupid Maelgyn boy’s father, too, will you? He should be there when his son is so rightly punished for his defiance.”

Troubuxet swallowed hard. Hussack was known as the most powerful man in the world aside from the High King of Sho’Curlas himself, and defying him was likely to cost him more than just his job as the Royal Tutor of Svieda.

“Yes, perhaps that would be wise.”

The throne room of the Sword King of Svieda in Castle Svieda was not constructed like the typical royal court. Ten tapestries lined the walls, representing the ten duchies and provinces over which the Swords ruled. Behind each tapestry was a small chamber holding a glass covered pedestal to display the main contribution of that province or duchy to the nation.

The case of the Royal Province of Svieda, the kingdom’s namesake, was situated behind the throne, and displayed a model of the crown. The Sopan province’s case displayed foreign coins from the various bordering kingdoms, representing the tolls they levied on passage out of the mouth of the Orful River. Sycanth’s chamber held a translucent, gold-flecked piece of quartz to represent their many gold mines. Rubick’s held a woodblock print of a wheat field in honor of their large farmlands. In Happaso’s chamber lay a single log of mahogany to represent the timber industry. Glorest was represented by a sword to honor the manufacturing sector, Leyland a chunk of polished granite for its stone mines, Stanget a large leather bound book for its world renowned library, and Largo a scale model of a trireme for its naval construction.

One final tapestry, however, was concealed by a veil, and its chamber’s pedestal was covered by black veils instead of the usual clear glass. It represented the Borden Islands, whose still ongoing revolt nearly a century before – during the reign of Sword King Nargle IV – ultimately led to the decision for Svieda to enter the Sho’Curlas Alliance.

On those few occasions when all or most of the Swords were present for a formal council, each Sword would ceremonially step forth from their province’s chamber to begin the meeting. That afternoon, however, only Arnach, Brode, Nattiel, and Maelgyn were able to represent their respective provinces for the meeting Hussack had demanded. The four present Swords disappeared to their respective chambers, emerging when court etiquette dictated and standing ceremonially in each doorway, while Hussack – as petitioner of the King – walked to the center of the court. This positioned Hussack between the three Sword Princes and their King.

The room was, in fact, extraordinarily empty. Hussack was so frequent a visitor to the throne room – always with complaints – that, for expediencies’ sake, only a token guard was ever summoned, any more. Maelgyn, his cousins, and Troubuxet were soon joined by Maelgyn’s grim-faced father. They stood in front of the throne, heads bowed, awaiting Sword King Gilbereth’s entrance. Hussack and Mussack were also present, but they clearly had no intention of showing the proper respect to the throne.

Finally, Gilbereth arrived. He wasn’t properly dressed for a meeting, wearing neither his royal regalia nor the dragonhide armor he typically wore even at informal meetings. He was partially protected from magic, nevertheless, by his two guards, each wearing large lodestone plates in their armor. Gilbereth took his seat on the throne, further protected by two massive pillars of lodestone on either side. Between the armed guards and the massive lodestones, the royalty of Svieda could be kept fairly safe from either conventional or magical attack. Even that seemed unnecessary, as the only two people in the room who weren’t entirely trusted had no record of magic talent and neither was armed.

“Well?” Gilbereth demanded, not looking too happy to anyone. “I am not accustomed to being ‘summoned’ to my own throne room without warning. Certainly not by someone who is not even a member of my court.”

“Ah,” Hussack said sardonically. “I see. Well, of
course
I did not intend to offend you, Your Majesty, but there is an issue we must discuss regarding young Maelgyn, here.”

The king sighed. He had been dealing with these complaints – most of which were unjustified – since Hussack and his son had arrived in the Sviedan court. “And why the urgency? Couldn’t you wait until the hour the Royal Court of Svieda usually listens to complaints?”

“Why, because of the seriousness of the matter,” Hussack explained, feigning surprise at the need for such a question. “It may result in a major shift in our mutual relations.”

The younger Sword Princes looked at one another grimly. To them, the shift had already occurred.

“And what is this... serious matter?” the king bristled, gritting his teeth.

“A matter of protocol, your Majesty. You see, young Maelgyn fails to recognize his betters.
My
son wishes to take his place as the Sword Prince of Sopan Province, but Maelgyn refuses to surrender the position.”

Silence reigned over the throne room as that declaration was made. Everyone inside – even, apparently, the same Prince Mussack who started the mess – seemed shocked that the man would be that blunt or speak in that tone in the Sword King’s own court.

Gilbereth’s hand tightened on the wooden arm rest of his throne, and a faint crack could be heard as the wood split underneath it. “So this is how it begins,” he muttered, almost to himself. He shook himself and turned to address Hussack directly, the gleam of royal rage in his eyes.

“First of all, I should emphasize that it was not only the right, but the duty of Our kin, the Sword Prince Maelgyn, to refuse such a demand. Indeed, I have every right to order Mussack’s execution and reward Maelgyn a great bounty from your very testimony just now. Your son’s crime is extremely serious, Hussack. But before I pronounce judgment – not on Maelgyn, but on your son – I will give you one single chance to explain just why you believe I should not have Prince Mussack shortened by a head.”

“Why,” Hussack countered, defiantly stepping forward. “Isn’t it obvious? Mussack is my son, and a Prince in line for the throne of the High King of Sho’Curlas. Our royal line is older, our armies are stronger, and we are wealthier than you could ever hope to be. Svieda is little more than a protectorate of ours. We are your superiors in
every
way, and so any one of us has the right to expect an appropriate tribute from you when we ask it.”

“The
right,
you say?” Gilbereth repeated slowly, drawing the phrase out while he reined in his temper and restrained himself from killing the man instantly. “If that is your answer, then this alliance is at an end!”

“A petty threat,” Hussack snorted dismissively. “We both know that Svieda needs our alliance. However, we do not need Svieda.”

“You know, Prince Hussack, none of the Swords ever wanted this alliance. My Great Grandfather, Gilbereth I, only agreed to it to forestall a greater conflict. In truth, he should have listened to his last six predecessors, all of whom rejected you.”

“Sho’Curlas grew for many years, often demanding we join your alliance, but we were strong enough not to fear your demands. Then Abindol Province unexpectedly rebelled against us. We lost the resources to support our military, and we feared we would be forced to ally with a greater power, either Sho’Curlas or the Imperial Republic of Oregal. To our surprise, as we were about to surrender to the inevitable and join your alliance, Oregal offered to cede Sopan to us. They knew we had to remain independent to preserve the balance of power. They had no thirst for war and conquest, but they knew war would be inevitable if your borders ever met.

“Oregal’s strategy worked. With us acting as a buffer, there were no conflicts between the two great powers for many years... but then another disaster befell our kingdom – the Sword of Borden also betrayed us, and led yet another province into rebellion. Many of our resources were drained fighting that still ongoing war, while Borden seemed to have no end to the number of ships and soldiers they could bring into the conflict. Somehow it has been able to sustain itself indefinitely against the collected might of nine other provinces, many of which were even larger.

“When Sho’Curlas sent its ambassadors to us a few years into the war, we gained our first glimpse of the forces at work. My great grandfather and namesake, Sword King Gilbereth I, came to realize he had but two choices: To prepare our bankrupt nation to fight a war with you, or to join you. He joined, but used the threat of an alliance with Oregal – as well as our large and experienced armies – to force your nation into accepting our terms. Terms which grant us more power than most of the other ‘allies’ you obtained. And now, apparently, those terms are no longer satisfactory to you.”

Gilbereth rose to his feet, pointing accusingly at the ambassador. “We are not fools, Hussack! You slipped up. We now know why Abindol and Borden abandoned us – you subverted them. You turned them against us and funded their rebellions to force us into alliance with you.

“I had hoped to choose my own time to address this, but your actions tonight – and those of your nation – cannot go unanswered. As of this moment, the Kingdom of Svieda withdraws from the Sho’Curlas Alliance. Our armies will stand ready to meet you whenever they’re needed.”