Shadowblade (26 page)

Cannath and a procession of his Royal Guard, along with Gavinos and Coronus, led the procession of Arnathian refugees who could not bear to subject themselves to the savage Prince Cannath to the Arnathian border.

“It chafes me to allow these pompous vermin to live, Gavinos.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” replied the prince’s Elvish advisor. “I would desire nothing more than to line the Royal Mile with their filthy corpses, but Commander Coronus believes we should give the enemy quarter. There is an alliance to consider now. And for the sake of the hard working Arnathian peasants who contribute to your taxes, it would be wise to be seen as a gracious winner.”

“An alliance,” growled Cannath. “An alliance with the ones who stole my family’s honor!”

“Your Highness, consider that if your ancestor had not acted as he had, your great uncle’s own line would hold the throne now. Not you.”

Cannath did consider that very thought, and had done so many times before. Still, it prickled him to allow quarter for the very people who detested him and certainly would have killed him had his own plan failed. But there was wisdom in the elf’s words. For the sake of his own people, he must put all this behind him and allow his country to move forward.

Commander Cornus spent much of the ride glaring imperiously at the roadside spectators. He was wearing his military uniform consisting of the black trousers and black coat with blue, silver, and white piping and scrollwork. His blue and white skin and dark eyes gave the man a haunted, deathly, appearance. When he spoke, the sound of his voice was soft and cold as ice; chilling the new monarch every time he heard it.

“The great Ilian Nah speaks,” whispered the Frost Elf cryptically. “We listen.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

The Frost Elf stared into the distance, seemingly ignoring Cannath who had given up expecting a response. Then the cryptic elf spoke again: “There are great and terrible things at work in the other realms, things beyond comprehension of mortals. The gods begin a war of their own. A war of supremacy, a war in which alliances will be made and broken. Alliances between, and against, brothers.”

“What brothers?’

“Ilian Nah and Qra’z.”

“The brothers of Qra’z are Umber, Ulyrch, and Grymm,” said Cannath, recalling his childhood lessons. “And their father is Zuhr. I do not recall any mention of Ilian Nah in my teachings.”

“You may be sure he was mentioned,” whispered the blue elf. Cannath glanced at Gavinos who gave an indifferent shrug, but his friend’s eyes seemed to understand more than he was letting on. Then the blue elf spoke again. “You know him by a different name.”

Commander Coronus turned his haughty gaze to Cannath, who felt like shrinking before the infamous Frost Elf, and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach as he realized what the blue man meant.

“You m-mean...” his voice trailed off a moment, and the elf did not respond. “Umber!”

Commander Coronus smiled and returned to his silent contemplation of the passing countryside, the spectators having dwindled away in the distance. Meanwhile, the prince’s mind was reeling. He looked to Gavinos but the two elves were now speaking to each other in some variety of Elvish that the prince did not speak. He dimly recalled the words of caution from his trusted captain, Amos, warning him of allying himself with the forces of Umber. It seems the man had been right, Ilian Nah truly was just another name for Umber.

Cannath and his Elvish advisors reached the western border of Hybrand by nightfall and an escort of the Arnathian Border Force took custody of the refugees. Cannath did not care think about what would become of these men and women who assuredly despised him, even as he harbored thoughts of assaulting the soldiers.

Each side chose to make camp on their own side of the border and continue their respective journeys home in the morning. Cannath enjoyed the privilege of having a large tent with many of the luxuries of his castle set up in a circle with Coronus and Gavinos’ own tents. In the center servants built a roaring blaze to fend off the cold and the three men sat nearby, staring into the orange flames.

“But why form an alliance with Qra’z?” Cannath suddenly asked of Coronus. The news of the revelation of Ilian Nah’s true nature seemed a small nuisance compared to abandoning the hatred that had fueled his plans for revenge for so long. “What could those sniveling prissies have that
we
need?”

“The clergy of Qra’z are very powerful magic-wielders and their abilities to turn the enemy upon itself will be an asset in the coming war. Not to mention the nearly unlimited wealth of the empire that will help fund the war.”

“What of this coming war, Coronus?” asked the prince with ire. “I tire of these surprises. If there is a war among the gods, how does that affect me?”

C
ould anyone truly mistake Umber for a Lord of Justice?
he wondered silently about the deific trickery. He began to worry about the bargain he had made. Just as he was considering pushing the matter harder, Coronus cast him a withering gaze and the man swallowed his protest. Then he cursed silently, it didn’t matter what god the people prayed to anymore, Cannath was their ruler. The castle was his, the Arnathians had been driven out, and soon he would be crowned Thayne of Hybrand.

“Be at ease, Your Highness,” said Gavinos in a soothing tone, his eyes meeting Cannath’s in a mesmerizing stare. “You have become a powerful monarch! Your new kingdom is at the dawn of greatness and it requires an army to fend off those who would test you.”

Prince Cannath looked into the earnest eyes of his longtime friend and had to admit the logic behind the elf’s words. Allying with his hated Arnathian enemies, no matter how bad it felt to do it, was a smart political move. And, ensuring that he had a well-trained and well-equipped army would indeed help him fend off aggressors.

“You are right of course, Gavinos. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Commander Coronus refused to allow the coronation of Prince Cannath without a proper divine blessing from Ilian Nah. A few days after the fall of the Royal Castle and the expulsion of the Arnathian refugees, a priest dedicated to Ilian Nah arrived in Hybrand City. A sleek black ship, not unlike Coronus’ own
Eradicator,
arrived in the port of Hybrand bearing the priest.

The priest was given a royal welcome and the prince’s new black carriage carried the man from the port, up the Royal Mile, and to Castle Hybrand. The prince and his two advisors, Gavinos and Coronus, were there to greet the dignitary as he arrived.

The door to the carriage opened and the priest stepped down the gilded staircase to the red and gold carpet that led from the courtyard into the castle itself. The man was short and squat and did not seem much like a priest to Cannath, whose exposure to priests had been limited to those serving Qra’z. This man was dressed more like the Frost Elf in a fine suit of black silk with white and blue and silver piping and scrollwork. He walked with a polished staff of shiny black wood with a ram’s head at the top, the staff’s spike striking the Hybrand City’s precious cobblestone streets. His eyes were large and black and he seemed gaunt despite his significant paunch. He wore knee high boots of brightly polished leather and a hat with a wide brim, not unlike the hats used by farmers to keep the sun from their eyes.

“Where is the Temple?” growled the paunchy man, dangerously.

“We have only just liberated Hybrand from Arnathian control,” answered Prince Cannath. “The Temples of Zuhr and Qra’z are being converted for our use, Your Eminence.”

The dour priest did not seem to even notice that the prince had answered him. He walked up to the trio, flanked by members of the Hybrand Royal Guard, and bowed his head to the monarch in a very small show of respect. A number of the priest’s retainers scurried out from a smaller wagon which had followed the first and began offloading the cleric’s possessions; it looked like the priest would be staying for a while.

“Welcome to Hybrand, Your Eminence!” said the prince with forced enthusiasm. The priest grunted and turned to face Coronus. The blue elf bowed respectfully and then kissed the holy man’s staff; Gavinos repeated the gesture. With a nudge from Gavinos, Cannath bowed before the priest and kissed the outstretched ram’s head staff.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” said the priest, finally acknowledging the prince. “I am Malig, the High Priest of Ilian Nah. I am second only to the Holy Prophet-General himself.”

“Then you have journeyed a very long way, Your Eminence. Please, allow my servant to show you to your apartment. We will have a banquet in honor of your arrival and of tomorrow’s coronation!”

“Indeed,” said the priest. Then he turned to the stoic Commander Coronus. “Will Ognadrog the Merciless be here by tomorrow?”

“We expect his majesty’s arrival by ship tomorrow morning, Eminence,” came the whispered reply.

“Good.”

Cannath shot a furious look at Gavinos, but the Elvish merchant gave the prince a silent look that promised a discussion later. Prince Cannath seethed while he waited for the cleric and the two elves to finish with their pleasantries and the priest was shown to his quarters. A train of servants, priests, and acolytes ferried the high-priest’s belongings and the materials that would be needed to establish a proper temple from the carriages to the palace.

“Do not worry, Prince Cannath,” said Gavinos gently, after the cleric and his attendants left the area.

“Don’t worry?” he returned, angry. “How can you say that? King Ognadrog the Merciless, King of the Hurkin, ruler of Hurkromin, and the commander of the Hurkin Horde, is coming to
my
coronation!”

“It does seem a trifle rash, doesn’t it?” said Gavinos with a guilty expression. “Still, you may be sure Ilian Nah has great plans in store. A great alliance will be formed between Hybrand and Hurkromin, paving the way for a glorious future!”

“
Will
be signed? Do I get a say this?”

“Naturally, My Prince,” soothed Gavinos. “Of course you do. But you must understand that it was the will of Ilian Nah that liberated you from Arnathia. His will
must
be done!”

“Indeed,” mused the prince. Cannath saw the logic in the elf’s reasoning, but he was not pleased with all these surprises. “What of the Spiders? Shall I expect this Erriagabyn to attend my coronation as well?”

“I’m afraid so, Your Highness. He too, is a servant of the great Ilian Nah. It has only been revealed to me that the leader of the Spiders is a very prestigious leader among the followers of our new god.”

“Hmm. So he lied to me with all that talk of his ancestors and mine serving together and that extinct goddess, Amira.”

“I do not know, Your Highness. Perhaps what he said was partially true. One can never know the mind of a god. As we have already learned, the realms of the gods are in turmoil, an alliance between the two gods could have been made.

“But it does not matter, your alliance with the Spiders was a necessary means to achieve a necessary end. The benefit was mutual, you are aware that the Spiders have contributed greatly to your cause.”

“Fine,” he conceded. “Let’s just get on with the coronation. Then we shall have a discussion about what else is demanded for by the will of Ilian Nah.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

C H A P T E R

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