The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection (45 page)

‘Lots of men, wagons that they don’t want thieves to investigate who’s planning the rebellion then?’ Isak looked round at the assembled faces, but they were all turned to the king.

The king cleared his throat. ‘As far as we can tell, it’s the White Circle. We’ve identified a number of known mercenary captains
among the men coming in, which the Devoted would have no need
for, even if they weren’t noted for executing mercenaries at every
opportunity.’

‘But that’s not like the White Circle, they’ve never led or funded
an uprising anywhere,’ protested Alscap. ‘They’ve always used influ
ence and money to get what they want. Even the war in Tor Milist - they may be the guiding force, but they’re neither paying for it or
fighting it. Why would they change tactics now? Their detachment
has worked well in the past.’

Everyone was nodding in agreement, though Isak wasn’t quite sure what they were talking about: the White Circle kept cropping up,
but all he really knew was that it was a sisterhood of rich women and
Lesarl had not been able to infiltrate it - unless his beautiful assassin had managed to inveigle her way in by now. Everyone knew Helrect
was run by a woman, Siala, a duchess by marriage - but she used no
title, to underline the fact that she ruled without her husband’s participation.

True enough,’ replied Count Antern, ‘but Narkang is rather greater a prize. Three months ago they brought a man into the city - we
think he’s to be the leader of this uprising. Most mercenaries will take
money from women, but not orders, and none of the men associated
with the White Circle here are capable of leading an army of any
sort.’

‘None still alive, you mean,’ muttered the librarian, Dele, darkly. ‘I can think of several men who’d have done it well enough before they contracted “sudden illnesses” soon after their wives decided to join the White Circle.’

That bastard Jex,’ bellowed the king’s uncle suddenly. Half the
room flinched at his unexpected outburst.

Halis muttered an apology as his nephew said, ‘Correct uncle, Herolen Jex. It took us a long time to discover who he was exactly,
but even without his history, it’s clear he could fill the role perfectly.’
He looked at Isak. ‘You probably won’t have heard of Jex: he was a
pirate captain from Vijgen, apparently quite famous if you have time
for pirate tales, but he is both ruthless and intelligent for certain.’

‘In any case,’ Count Antem said, ‘the end of the Spring Fair would be the logical time to attack. All of our informants agree that’s the
day. Half the city will be drunk, and they know the king will have to
be out on the field to reward the winners of the tourneys and tilting.’

‘So what’s your plan?’ Isak’s question cut to the point and silenced the room.

All heads turned to the king as he stood and leaned heavily against the desk. His head was down as if scanning a map or battle plan. Slowly, he lifted his cold eyes. ‘An educated guess would put their
numbers at one and a half thousand men. The normal strength of the
Kingsguard in Narkang is five hundred. This has been doubled over the past few days, carefully enough that I doubt they have noticed. This still leaves us at a disadvantage, for all that their mercenaries
should be inferior to my Kingsguard.

‘I have a man who should have reached Brodei Castle by now. Reinforcements will arrive sometime around the end of the fair. What we have to do is be ready for the assault and fight a running retreat to the palace. Once inside, they’ll not have the time, nor the skill to
break us.’

‘Jex is an arrogant man,’ added Antern severely, ‘but he’s no fool. He knows the running retreat will be our instinctive reaction; the king is never unguarded. We expect him to divide his force with the
bulk attacking the king, and perhaps a third at the city gates to cut off any break-out we might be planning.’

‘What if they close the gates? Barricade them? Even with troops in the city you’d be dead before they fought their way through and
opened the gates again.’ There were murmurs in support of Isak’s objection, but Emin merely smiled evilly.

Then they will have a deeply unpleasant surprise. For the duration of the fair the gates remain open. This is, of course, to encourage the debauchery and excess that my people expect and require. While I can hardly be enthusiastic about that, it is convenient that the Gate
keepers do not have to be in residence, as they would normally. I don’t
know whether our little traditions are known to the Farlan, but the
opening and closing of the gates are normally accompanied by a small
ceremony. Nothing overly complicated, but significant nonetheless.’

‘And the point?’ interrupted Isak.

‘And the point, my Lord, is that it is merely a pleasant little tradition that the folk of the city have grown fond of over the years. Without one of the Gatekeepers there the ceremony will naturally be omitted and the reason for it will become apparent.’

‘A magical lock?’ All heads turned to Mihn at his suggestion. Emin shook his head.

‘Not quite. I must admit the inspiration came from tales of the
black gates of Crafanc, though we have employed the idea in a different way. I must admit I’m keen to see how well it works, since we’ve
not really been able to test it out. What isn’t public knowledge is that the Gatekeepers of the city have all been ordained Priests of Death.
If a priest opens or closes the gates, all is well. If anyone else does so,
the daemon bound within the shrine above the locking mechanism
will be released.’

A gasp ran around the room. Even the two men of the Brotherhood, Sir Creyl and Marshal Tohl, looked shocked. The Chief Librarian shuddered. Isak had to suppress a chuckle. It was just the sort of
evil idea he was beginning to expect from Emin.

‘Please, calm yourselves. It is perfectly safe for the citizens. The daemon is restricted to the gatehouse and we will have none of our
people inside for the entire fair. Watchmen will be guarding the gate, of course, but I believe the duty is known as a retirement post since it
is essentially ceremonial. They will surrender before pointlessly laying
down their lives.’

Isak looked around at the men in the room. Mihn had a thoughtful
expression on his face: but he was quite as calculating and dispassion
ate as King Emin. Antern and Coran had obviously heard nothing
new, but the others were completely unsettled.

‘What role can I play?’ Again Isak brought a sudden hush to the
room.

A smile crossed Emin’s face. ‘I appreciate the offer, my Lord. At the risk of sounding crude, you are the most effective killer in our midst. While your men are few in number, each and every one would have an honoured place in the Kingsguard, and that would make a nice surprise for Jex - but it would also make you as important a target as me. I would be more than grateful if you did find an opportunity to kill Jex, but please remember that there are witches and mages within the White Circle. Keeping yourself alive might prove complicated
enough-‘

He broke off as a clatter came from the cupboard. Coran immediately pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and advanced, hand on hilt. Isak shifted his body so Eolis was in an easier position to draw, but as the door crashed opened it was a panting Veil who tumbled though. He held a lamp in one hand. It was clear from his gulping breaths that he’d sprinted the length of the tunnel.

‘Your Majesty, you must return to the baths!’

Emin, apparently ignoring the urgency in Veil’s voice, reached leisurely for his sword as he asked, ‘What’s happened?’

‘Herolen Jex, my Lord. He’s challenged Lord Isak’s man to a duel.’

‘So tell me what happened,’ Isak said quietly. They were sitting in his apartments at the palace, large, airy rooms that were sumptuous even by Farlan standards. The style was almost opposite to what they were used to: smooth white walls instead of the grey stone of Tirah. Highly polished stone, inlaid marquetry and etched metal decorated almost every piece of furniture, even the candelabras, and doors and panels
were beautifully carved into intricate designs.

Carel stood with his head low and hands clasped together. ‘My Lord, it was my fault. I’m not used to being around noblemen. In the
barracks, things are simpler-‘

‘No.’ Tila placed herself between the two men and glared up at Isak. ‘It was that man Jex at fault. He was insulting me and Carel stepped in to stop him.’

‘And Jex took offence at what he said and challenged him to a duel?’ the king asked. He was lounging on a long sofa, a thin cigar
clamped between his lips.

‘Well, the Marshal was not wholly tactful, but Jex was looking for
an excuse.’

‘So now you have to fight him?’ Isak did not shout, but his friend still shrank back. ‘Carel, in case you’ve forgotten, you retired from the Ghosts years ago. You can’t fight a man like Herolen Jex at your
age.’

His companions looked back at him, confusion on their faces.

‘How do you know him? I’d not heard of the man.’ Vesna put down the empty glass he’d been restlessly turning in his hands.

The king told me.’ Isak turned back to his ageing friend. That’s hardly the problem now. Carel, you’re not going to fight this
man.’

‘He doesn’t have to,’ answered Vesna before Carel could speak. ‘I
am.’

‘And he accepted? I suppose he would,’ mused Emin. ‘He’d not have heard of you. Jex is too arrogant to refuse a duel without good reason. Well, there is at least a little good to come out of this. I assume you asked for a full joust when given choice of weapons?’

Vesna nodded. A man with a long-standing reputation as an adulterer didn’t survive long without being a good duellist - with any
weapon. Vesna was not just a master adulterer, he was a hero of the
Parian Army, and his reputation both on the battlefield and on at a
formal tourney was well deserved. With any luck, the pirate Jex would
probably have never tilted in his life.

‘Unfortunately, it also creates a problem. I assume the duel is to be in the morning?’

‘No, my Lord,’ said Tila. ‘I’m afraid I couldn’t think of anything fast enough to stop the duel, but for what it’s worth the duel will happen
after
the fair.’

‘What?’ To Tila’s surprise, the king’s face lit up. As she looked at Isak she saw similar excitement.

‘It was the only excuse I could think of to put off the duel. I hoped it would give you time to find a way to stop it. I told Jex that you
and the king had already made a wager on the fair, five hundred gold
emins that Vesna would win the tilt. I banked on betting law being
the same as in Tirah: since his duel puts a wager of yours at risk, if Jex
wants to fight immediately, he has to provide the money, because he’s
forcing you to default.’ She blushed. ‘He didn’t look like he had five hundred emins to hand.’

‘My dear,’ purred Emin, rising and taking her hand, ‘if I were not
a married man I would be on my knee to you this minute.’ He kissed
her palm with affected reverence. ‘I could not have asked more of you
if I’d orchestrated the whole thing myself.’

He stood up and craned his head around Isak’s massive frame to attract Coran’s attention. ‘Go to Herolen Jex, I believe he is one of
Duke Forell’s guests. Tell him the duel will take place after the presentation of the prizes at the fair. That should relieve them - I’m sure
the others know about Count Vesna’s ability.’

‘Others?’ asked Vesna, his coming duel forgotten as his suspicion
flared.

‘I will take my leave and let your master explain. Oh, the excitement of the Spring Fair…’ He was almost dancing as he left the
room, Coran at his heel at ever. Only a thin trail of smoke and a line
of confused faces remained.
Isak suspected that was a frequent happening.

In the grey gloom of early morning, the soldier’s shifting feet on the cobbles sounded oddly loud. The night had seen rain clouds roll in from the ocean and with them had come a cool mist and rain, nothing heavy but still not what most had hoped for the coming Spring
Fair. His muscles felt cold and stiff after long hours of guard duty. He
stared out over the damp empty street, another still, silent part of the
city. It was too early for most of Narkang’s citizens; only a few distant
sounds, some mysterious, most mundane, haunted the empty streets. Even the dawn chorus had yet to rouse into action.

His partner was in the guardroom above, warm and comfortable, seated by the arrow-slit window that overlooked the approach to the palace. The solider opened his mouth to call up and demand they change places when a movement caught his eye. In the inky lee of one house, a cloak fluttered out from the shadow. The soldier flexed
his fingers round the shaft of his halberd. Someone was watching him.
He hawked noisily and spat on the ground, the saliva glistening in the
half-light. A tap-tap came; almost inaudible, but enough to be sure his partner was alert to the possible danger.

The figure remained in the shadows for another ten heartbeats, then slipped round the corner and moved stealthily along the wall. His long cape covered most of his body, but the breeze held it open
for a moment, long enough to make out bronze scale-armour and a red
sash with markings of rank - an officer of the Devoted.

Tonight has
just got more
interesting,
thought the soldier. The Devoted and the Kingsguard found themselves at odds more often than not.
The officers of the Devoted were usually recruited from birth and title.
No man in the Kingsguard went anywhere unless it was on merit. He reached back and rapped his knuckles on the door behind him. At night the gates to the palace were, of course, barred. A low door in the left-hand gate provided the only access until the king was awake. The soldier heard the bolts drawn back as he kept scanning the street beyond. From here he could see no one else, neither companion nor
pursuer, but when the hurrying figure crossed the open stretch of road,
the soldier kicked back against the door to open it for him.

‘I-‘ The man’s voice broke off as the guard jabbed a thumb towards
the door. He hesitated for a split second, then nodded and ducked down to step through the small aperture. Staying in the street would expose the visitor, and he was clearly trying to avoid notice. The guards behind the gate could deal with him. The soldier flicked his upright halberd through two well-practised circles and returned his attention to the fading gloom of the streets.

As the officer came through the door, two pairs of boots and two gleaming sword tips welcomed him. He froze, then gently brought
himself upright to match the unfriendly gaze of a Kingsguard soldier.
The second moved around him to nudge the door closed again and
restore the bolts. Only once the gate was secure did anyone speak.

‘So, Major,’ said the soldier opposite him as he noted the markings on the Knight’s scarlet sash. ‘What can we do for you this fine
night?’

The man looked about the fine courtyard before answering. Even in
the murky light the White Palace was beautiful. The roses were black
shadows, the gravel paths soft grey, and the host of statues loomed like resident spectres.

‘I must speak to the Krann of the Farlan.’

The soldier gave a short laugh. ‘Oh well, excuse me a moment
while I drag him out of bed by his ear.’

‘It is a matter of utmost importance.’

‘I’m sure it is,’ drawled the soldier. He regarded the earnest face of the major, a young man for his rank, and sheathed his sword. ‘It’s always important to pious bastards like you lot, but the Lord Isak might not agree. Got a nasty temper on him, I hear.’

‘Then wake one of his men and let him decide. I need to be out of
the palace before the city wakes.’

The soldier sighed and scratched at his neck idly. ‘I’m not so sure you’ll make that, but I’ll go and wake the commander of the Krann’s
guard. You can wait in the guardhouse there.’

Isak sat on the side of his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Eolis
rested on his thighs. The Kingsguard who’d eventually brought Major
Ortof-Greyl to him had spoken first to his senior officer, then to one
of the black-clad King’s Men who prowled the palace at all times.
Finally someone decided it was probably important enough to wake
the Krann.

Carel scowled at the major. The marshal looked ruffled and irritable. He’d not bothered with uniform, but the curved blade that he’d
named Arugin was ready at hand. The sword reminded him of an aru
gin, a marsh harrier, for the blade’s smooth, silent stroke was like the black bird’s gliding flight, and the sword, though made of black-iron, had a curious white shimmer, almost like pipe smoke, that resembled
the bird’s white-tipped wings.

‘My Lord, we must speak in private,’ the major insisted again.

‘I have no secrets from these two,’ replied Isak, nodding towards
Mihn and Carel. A sudden pang of sadness hit him: that wasn’t quite
true. Mihn had seen the scar on his chest, but had been given no explanation, and he had kept it hidden from Carel, his oldest and
dearest friend, because Carel would demand answers, and Isak didn’t
know yet what those answers were.

He decided to compromise. ‘You can leave,’ he ordered the man of
the Brotherhood hovering behind the major. The man didn’t move
for a second, then he bowed. His face remained steadfastly blank as he
marched from the room, Mihn close on his heels to ensure the man had no chance to listen in.

‘So, Major, why are you here? I thought you people were keeping
your distance from me.’

‘I-It is true that the Council are unconvinced that you are the
Saviour-‘

‘Well, how did I persuade them of that? No one else seems to believe
me.’ Isak gave a bitter laugh.

‘That is not why I am here. What I came to tell you is that the
Knights of the Temples are not as united as you might believe.’

Isak stopped laughing and leaned forward, listening more intently.

‘Our Order is going through significant changes. While the old guard remains in control of the Council, the younger generation
grows stronger every year.’

‘What are you telling me?’

That very soon the Knights of the Temples may not be so hostile
towards you - but that is not the main reason I demanded to see you at
so inconvenient a time. There is a group of men within the Knights,
of whom I am one-‘ He stopped, trying to compose himself.

He was less than thirty summers, Isak guessed, and young to be a
major. He was obviously finding the situation daunting. Isak smiled.
‘I’m listening, Major,’ he said encouragingly.

The major swallowed and, almost whispering, said, ‘We are few in
number, but we know a secret that even the Knight-Cardinal is ignorant of. We believe we have proof enough that you are the Saviour - or if you are not the Saviour, you will be his champion when his
coming is nigh.’

‘His champion?’ wondered Isak aloud.

Mihn looked noncommittal, as usual. The Harlequins did not bear the official history of the Land, but they were impartial recorders of most events. Isak assumed the mention of a champion was just
Devoted doctrine, since Mihn offered no other explanation.

‘So you want an ally when you try to take power?’ Carel didn’t bother to disguise the scorn in his voice, but the man looked genuinely hurt by the suggestion.

‘Not at all. We hope it will be less of a taking of power, and more of
a shift in values. I come to tell you that we will bring you a gift, some
thing that should convince you of our genuine motives. It is under
careful guard, so we haven’t yet managed to secure it, but within two
weeks we shall. The head of our group suggests you and your men,
however many guards you wish, of course, meet us at the Ivy Rings
on Silvernight. It is an abandoned temple of standing stones, a week’s ride from the city.’

‘As simple as that? Do you think I’m soft in the head? You’ll have
to give me a reason to believe you or I’ll break your legs and pack you
back off to Piety Keep.’ Isak didn’t bother to disguise his anger, but
then he paused.

Calm again, he asked, ‘What’s this secret you’ve hidden from the
Knight-Cardinal ?’

‘It would mean nothing to you, it is merely the circumstances of the
finding of the gifts we offer you - though he is unaware of what we
offer. I myself do not know.’

Isak didn’t bother trying to unravel the words, which made little
sense to him. The major obviously thought whatever it was would go
over his head. Try me.’

The man swallowed nervously. ‘Very well. The gifts - what we will
offer to you - were brought back by a man of our Order from an expedition into the elven waste years ago-‘

‘To Keriabral?’ Isak had a sly smile on his face as the major’s expression turned to one of bewilderment.

‘You’ve heard of it? But he was the only survivor-How could you
possibly know?’ There was near-panic on his face as he ran the names
of possible traitors in his group through his head.

‘There were two survivors,’ Isak said, ‘well, three with this new one.
If we carry on at this rate there’ll have been no one killed there at all.’
Isak’s comment drew a furious look from Carel: every soldier feared
dying on a field far from home. Your family and friends might never know how or why you died, let alone where: to be lost without burial
or the administering of rites was what petrified most men going into battle. It was not something to be belittled.

Isak shot him a look of apology.

‘I had no idea,’ whispered the major. ‘The man was sent back alone,
soon after they arrived at the castle - he was a woodsman, an expert, able to survive almost anywhere. He made it back to Embere and found an escort to accompany him to the Fortress of the Devoted. When he heard that the others had never returned, he hanged himself in guilt at having abandoned them.’

‘Not much of a secret, considering the consequences if your own
leader finds out.’

‘There are ramifications that would cloud our purpose in this
Age.’

Isak laughed. ‘How convenient. Well, I’ll think about what you’ve
said and let you know.’

‘My Lord, this is a matter of the utmost secrecy; we can afford no contact or the Council will put a stop to everything. If the Knight-Cardinal knew about this, he would have us all killed and take the
gifts, perhaps even try to kill you.’

Isak sat back with a sigh. For a few heartbeats he didn’t move, then
he looked to both Mihn and Carel. Neither took the opportunity to
speak.

‘I still have to think about this,’ Isak said. ‘Count Vesna will be
wearing a lady’s favour for the joust. If it’s red on the last day, I will be
there. White, I refuse. That gives you enough warning?’

‘It does, my Lord,’ Major Ortof-Greyl said, rising. ‘I thank you for
your time.’ He bowed low, then followed Mihn out.

Carel sat down next to Isak, their concerned expressions almost
identical.

‘I thought life could not get any more complicated.’ There was no wry humour in Carel’s voice, just fatigue. He was beginning to feel his age. ‘I’m assuming that you’d have told me if you ever believed
yourself to be the Saviour, or anything else. So what are we going to do about all those who think you are?’

Isak scratched at the stubble on his cheek. ‘I don’t know. I just hope
we can avoid too many people dying over it. I’ve never had much of
a plan for my life, certainly nothing so grand as becoming Lord of the Farlan. That was surprise enough.’ He sighed heavily.

‘If we have to go to war over a lie, or over the misinterpreted ramblings of madmen, then perhaps the Land would be better off without
me.’

Carel turned in shock, but he saw nothing more than weary resignation on Isak’s face. He placed a hand on Isak’s huge shoulder. These
days, whenever he touched his boy, it didn’t feel quite like flesh under
his palm. It made him uncomfortable, but he put that aside for Isak’s sake. Then let’s make sure it never comes to that,’ he said quietly.