Reign of Madness (Revised Edition) (35 page)

Brandt’s chair tipped and slapped the floor as he abruptly
leaned forward settling elbows on knees. “There are a number of oaths that are
considered appropriate depending on your status. You were a commoner but are
now a healer and claim to be a warrior. How do you swear?”

Reaylin lifted her chin and said, “I am a warrior.”

The young lord nodded and said, “You draw your sword and
kneel with both knees to the ground, settling back on your heels. You hold your
sword in offering before you in both hands. Tradition states that the hilt
should rest in the open palm of your left hand.” Reaylin moved to stand within
a few feet of Rezkin and followed the lord’s instructions. “Good, now, you
lower your eyes and say, ‘Under the watchful gaze of the Maker and before the
eyes of three lords of the land, one lady heir, and one mage, I, Reaylin…’”

“de Voss,” the young woman added as she repeated after the
lord.

“do hereby swear honor and fealty to…” Brandt paused, unsure
what to say without a name.

Wesson interjected, “the
True King
, so named and
served by Rezkin as
His
Voice.”

Brandt nodded in thanks and picked up narration of the
remainder of the oath, “I name the
True King
my liege, my lord, my king.
By my blade I will protect and serve him as my king. Let this oath be binding
above and beyond all previous oaths, so let my loyalty be known.”

Reaylin finished repeating the
oath. Her hands were shaking slightly but her voice held firm and confident.
Rezkin grasped the hilt and rested the flat of the blade on the crown of the
woman’s head. His form was tall and broad, his bearing exuded power, and his
deep voice resounded with kingly authority as he intoned, “Reaylin de Voss, I,
Rezkin, do hereby accept your oath of fealty and your blade in service to the
True
King
. In return, I offer you protection and sanctuary on
His
behalf,
such as
He
is capable of providing.”

In that moment, all present were
certain that Rezkin was a king in his own right. None could deny his majesty.
Reaylin beamed up at him with pride, and the others felt an intense desire to
kneel before their liege. Just as Frisha rose to her feet, Rezkin tipped the
sword down and stepped back. The surreal moment was suddenly lost when Rezkin
once again appeared to be only himself. He held the sword out for Reaylin to
collect as she stood. Although the sudden feeling had passed, none could forget
how they felt in that brief moment.

Wesson abruptly blurted, “I
understand now! I know how it works!”

Everyone’s attention swerved to
the journeyman, and he realized he had spoken aloud.

“Oh, ah, sorry. It was a stray
thought not meant to have been spoken,” he said, but his eyes met Rezkin’s, as
if to say they would speak later.

Palis rubbed his chin
thoughtfully and said, “I have never actually seen anyone swear fealty before.
How did you know the words and method?” The last was directed at his friend,
Brandt, who seemed determined to surprise him that night.

Brandt shrugged and said
carelessly, “I read it somewhere.” The young lord looked at Reaylin who was
standing proudly and grinning like a little girl. “You
do
realize that
the particular oath you swore is dependent upon Rezkin identifying for you your
sworn liege. He could tell you the True King is Palis or the stable hand or
even claim the title for himself. He could even choose to
never
identify
your king, and you would be bound to serve Rezkin for the rest of your life.”
The way he emphasized
true king
leant it the weight of a title rather
than simple description.

Reaylin’s eyes roved over the
stoic warrior as she said with a sultry smile, “I don’t think I’d mind serving
Rezkin any way he desires.”

Frisha, who was still standing,
raised her hand to slap the woman, but Palis caught her wrist with a warning
glare. Rezkin, however, smiled broadly and said, “Good, then your first task is
to become a healer.”

The woman’s face fell as she
began to protest, “But…”

Rezkin raised a hand and said,
“You are a loyal subject, are you not?”

“I…” the woman huffed, “Yes,
but…”

“Then you will do as you are told,”
he said firmly. He did not ask for vassals, but if people insisted on swearing
their fealty to him, he would demand they honor their vows.

Reaylin snapped her mouth shut
and hung her head. She dipped an awkward curtsy and said, “Yes, my lord.”

Glancing around the room, Rezkin
asked, “Is that all? Are your curiosities satisfied for the night?”

Brandt’s eyes rested on the
floor between Rezkin and Reaylin where the woman had knelt, and for a moment,
the warrior thought the young noble would opt to kneel as well. The young man
shook himself free of his thoughts and glanced around.

“I want to know more about the
rebels,” he said as his eyes came to rest on Reaylin.

“Well, I’m not talking about
them. You and I serve opposing kings, and I do not intend to betray my people,”
Reaylin asserted.

Brandt shifted uncomfortably and
replied, “What are you talking about? We do not serve opposing kings.”

The woman crossed her arms and
lifted her chin as she said, “If you do not serve the True King, then you serve
the Usurper Caydean. That makes you my enemy.”

“By the Maker, woman, is there
no middle ground with you?” Brandt exclaimed.

Reaylin scowled and replied,
“This is war,
Lord Brandt
. If Caydean knew of my allegiance and ordered
you to kill me, you would be obliged to carry out his order. We may occupy the
same room, the same ship, the same kingdom, but we are not on the same side.
I’ve chosen mine. By default, you’ve chosen yours.” The woman spoke with the
passion and confidence of a long-time rebel. In that moment, Rezkin began to
see the woman for who she truly was.

Brandt’s attention darted to
Rezkin as he exclaimed, “Is this your opinion, as well?”

Rezkin cocked his head and said,
“I would not begin to label the entire Kingdom of Ashai my enemy. Most follow
Caydean because they do not know there is an alternative.”

Reaylin scowled and argued, “He
is not an
alternative
. He is the True King. To say otherwise implies
that Caydean has a right to the throne, which he does not.”

The warrior nodded slightly in
acquiescence and said, “I concede the point.” These vassals were going to force
him to claim kingship by virtue of semantics. “Still, I would not claim those
who do not know of the True King to be enemies. They serve their king not out
of choice but out of ignorance.”

“And those of us who do know?”
Brandt pressed.

Rezkin cocked his head, and
replied, “Technically, you would be considered an enemy by default. I recognize
that you have had little time to digest the knowledge, but if events continue
as they are, you will eventually have to choose a side. I do not disparage your
caution. In fact, I would consider it to be irresponsible for one of your
status to swear fealty to an unseen and unnamed liege. I only accepted
Reaylin’s under such conditions because she already serves the rebellion. And,
since I am not seeking to collect your fealty, the point is moot.”

“Rezkin, I don’t want to be
considered your enemy,” Frisha said pleadingly. “I would swear fealty to your
king, as well.”

The warrior shook his head and
said, “I will not accept your fealty at this time, Frisha.” Before she could
protest he said, “I have my reasons, not the least of which is your uncle. You
may swear whatever oaths you please, but not until you know the man’s identity,
at the least.” Rezkin noted Wesson’s unconscious nod of approval. The mage was
just as perceptive and contemplative as Waylen but was less obvious in his
outward expressions. With the baron’s son it was easy to tell when he was
studying someone, but Wesson had a way of observing and calculating while
appearing to be completely unaware or focused on other activities. The mage was
constantly evaluating Rezkin, the warrior king.

Brandt stood and said, “You know
I respect you, Rezkin, but I think you are wrong in this. You should be collecting
as much loyalty to your cause as possible when the opportunity permits.”

“To the detriment of the loyal
subjects?” Rezkin asked.

“What do you mean?” the young
lord asked.

“If you were to swear fealty to
the True King, what would your father say should he learn of your loyalty?”
Rezkin inquired.

“What do I care?” Brandt
scoffed.

“I think you
do
care,
Brandt, more than you would like us to believe,” Rezkin asserted. “Would he
disown you? Would he turn you in to the king or Council? What if someone else found
out before the True King has gained enough influence? Your House would fall and
everyone in it hanged for treason.”

“How can the True King gain
influence if he has no followers?” Brandt countered.

“It is a conundrum,” the warrior
remarked. “As the Heads of Houses, you would have certain influence. As heirs,
you are a liability. Word will get out soon enough. I think Kai will see to
that. The man is determined,” Rezkin grumbled. “Let your fathers find out
first. Let them make their decisions. Once they have done so, then you may
decide if you agree or disagree. You will be aware of the consequences should
you reject their conclusions.”

“You are saying I should just
let my father decide?” Brandt scoffed.

“No, I am saying to let your
father make his choice known
first
,” Rezkin urged. “If your intent is to
join the True King, and your father comes to the same conclusion on his own,
then all is well. If, however, you and your father are in disagreement, then
you will have more difficult choices to make. Do not limit yourself, now, by
making oaths that could have serious consequences in the future.”

The young lord looked at Rezkin
askance, “I do not know whether I respect you more for your candor or less for
being the absolute worst recruiter in the history of the world.”

Wesson piped up saying, “He
is
right, Rezkin. You are not doing your cause any favors.”

“You, too?” Rezkin asked in
surprise.

“I am not agreeing to anything,”
Wesson said hastily. “I am only saying that you are going about this the wrong
way, and I think it is because you have not yet accepted the reality of the
events that are taking place and the inevitability of your place in them…as the
King’s Voice, I mean,” the mage hedged.

Wesson was right. If Rezkin
truly was running a campaign to garner support for his bid for the throne, this
was a poor way to go about it. The problem was that Rezkin still rejected the
idea of claiming the throne. He had been trained to carry out orders without question.
Since gaining his independence, he had learned to appreciate no longer serving
another. Now, they were asking him to subject an entire kingdom to
his
authority. It was such a deviation from his upbringing that his mind
immediately protested. Rezkin realized he needed to accept his role and embrace
his given purpose, just as he had been telling the others to do.

“Perhaps it is time for a change. I will consider your
words, but you all have other things on which to concentrate. I will make a
decision but not before the end of the tournament,” Rezkin asserted. He looked
at each of them and said, “You realize that if my part in all of this is made
public, you and anyone else in my company will automatically be associated with
the True King, as well? For now, we are only traveling together on the same
ship. You could claim no knowledge or personal association. If you are seen in
my presence beyond that, for example, while in Skutton, you will be branded
traitors in Caydean’s eyes once he learns of my loyalties, whether you support
my cause or not.”

Palis stood and said, “It is a valid concern, and I will
mention it to the others. Since it appears we will get little more information
out of you regarding the True King, I will retire.”

The others, with the exception of his roommate, stood and
shuffled out of the room. Frisha stopped in the doorway and looked up at the
warrior longingly. “I am with you, Rez – always.”

Rezkin looked into the young woman’s warm, brown eyes and
said with sincerity, “Thank you.” He truly did appreciate the woman’s loyalty.
She had been a good selection for his
Girl Friend
. He would have to
thank whoever was in charge of such things. He paused when he realized that
whoever assigned him his friends was probably dead, having died in the fortress.
Did that mean he would have no more friends, or had they all already been
selected and were just waiting to be found?

After following the women to their room and trapping their
door, Rezkin returned to his own room and slid the bar into place. The mage
watched him curiously as he went about checking for traps and poisons. He had
been unable to do so earlier with all of the visitors. The warrior had come to
realize that this was considered odd behavior. No one else with whom he had
shared a room had done the same, and they had always questioned him and watched
with concern, just as the mage was doing now.

Rezkin washed his hands, face, and teeth in the basin and
then finally settled on his bed. “What did you figure out?” he asked.

“Hmm? What?” Wesson asked with confusion.

“Earlier, you suddenly shouted that you had figure
it
out – how
it
works. What was it?” Rezkin questioned.

“Oh, that. Um, yes, I thought I had figured something out,
but now it just seems silly. Forget I said anything,” the journeyman said,
brushing off the concern.

“No, tell me. What was this epiphany?” the warrior pressed.

Wesson’s eyes rested on the ceiling as he pondered and
scratched his head. “Well, it seems to be a little fuzzy, now. I remember
thinking I had figured out how some spell works. Yes…it was a spell…on you, I
think.” He furrowed his brow in deep concentration and then leaned forward on
his bed to look closely at Rezkin. He did not seem to be looking at the man so
much as looking
through
him…and around him. A light once again began to
dawn in the journeyman’s eyes.

“Tell me, Rezkin. Who are you?” he asked.

Rezkin frowned and said, “I am your employer.”

Wesson shook his head in agreement and said, “Yes, I know
that you are. Now, tell me that you are a shepherd.”

“What? Why would I say that?” Rezkin asked curiously.

“Please, just humor me,” Wesson requested as he continued to
stare into some unseen level of Rezkin.

“Fine, I am a shepherd,” Rezkin muttered.

The mage shook his head and said, “No, this time, make it so
in your mind first and then tell me.”

Rezkin nodded his understanding. This was an exercise he had
practiced many times in his training. He had to
become
the character he
played. He set in his mind the truthful fact that he was a shepherd and then
smiled pleasantly, as a shepherd might, and said, “Journeyman, I am a
shepherd.”

“Of course you are, Rezkin,” Wesson nodded, “but that has
little bearing on the spell that is cast upon you. Your profession is
unimportant.”