The Rival (62 page)

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Authors: Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: The Rival
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But before he could make a decision about Nicholas, he had to see if Nicholas's daughter was attached to him.  If she was, then Nicholas's death might count against Rugad.  And he couldn't have that.

Too many questions, and none of them would be answered in the Hall.  He was only using his time here to worry at problems he couldn't solve, at least not without more information.

He took a deep breath.  The confrontation awaited.  He had no idea what to expect.

He crossed the corridor and stopped outside the audience hall.  Most of his guards were already inside.  The others he had sent for stood outside.  It was a measure of Nicholas's skill that Rugad would go in so heavily guarded that no man could get near him.

The guards were a mixture of Foot Soldiers, Infantry and Beast Riders.  The Riders were dressed and looked fresh.  None of them appeared to have fought the battle earlier in the day.

Rugad turned to them.  "Don't harm any of the prisoners," he said, "no matter what they do.  But make certain they do not get near me."

The guards nodded. They had probably not needed the instruction, but he had given it for his peace of mind.  Then with a sweep of both hands, he yanked the door open and went in.

His presence always caused consternation, and this time was no different.  The guards inside backed away slightly.  But the three forms in the middle of the room didn't seem too concerned.   Rugad paused near the door, letting his own guards sweep around him until they reached their uniform position.

And he watched.

The room was long and narrow. A dais stood above everything, with a crest, which surprised him. The image on the crest surprised him even more.  Two swords crossed over a heart.  He had seen the reverse of the same image in his only trip to the Eccrasian Mountains decades before.  Two hearts pieced by a single sword.  The oddness of it startled him. 

The emotion only lasted an instant, but that was long enough for the Islander King to take advantage of the situation.  He bowed, then swept up, easily the smallest man in the room.  His yellow hair shone like a beacon among all the dark scalps. 

"You must be my wife's grandfather," King Nicholas said in passable Fey.

Advantage to the Islander.  The girl beside him drew closer.  She was clearly half-breed. The Fey features always emerged strongest, but she had the look of her father about her face.  Odd to think that when she had a narrow chin and upswept Fey features.  But her skin was light, and her eyes pale.  The birthmark flared off that pale skin like a brand. 

In her eyes, though, Rugad saw Jewel.  Determination, intelligence, and anger.  He mentally saluted all three.

They pleased him.

He let the silence hang between them.  It was the only way he could regain control of the situation.  And he used it, not just to examine the girl, but also to look at the Golem.

It appeared alive enough.  He had never seen such an animated Golem before.  The person behind it was clearly powerful.  But it had cracked once, shatter lines running along its face and into its clothing.  Its eyes were bright too.  He had only seen one Golem like it, a Golem fed with such power that it lived long after its animator was dead.  His grandfather's Golem.  The old man had used it to rule in areas that he couldn't monitor.  It was a second pair of eyes.  He'd tried to do the same with a another Golem, but it spread his power too thin.  And, some said, the first Golem was jealous.

This one watched him with an intensity that had a threat to it.  The Golem was guarding something, but what Rugad didn't know.

Yet.

"Girl," he said, deciding that ignoring the King was the best course.  "What's your name?"

She glanced at her father.  The look was small, but it told Rugad enough.  They were Bound.  Rugad would have to tread lightly.

"In my country," she said, her chin outstretched, eyes flashing blue, "It's discourteous to ignore the King."

Rugad suppressed a smile.  She had even more spirit than he had hoped for.  "I have conquered your country.  You no longer have a King."  He paused just enough for that sentence to sink in.  Then he said, "I asked your name."

"A man does not conquer a country simply because he declares it so," the girl said.  Her father touched her arm.  She shrugged him off.  So, the father was a bit overwhelmed by his impulsive daughter.  Even better.  Mighty King Nicholas had a weakness.

"No, he does not," Rugad said.  "He conquers by bringing in an invading army of overwhelming proportions, destroying the religion, burning the only city of note, and capturing the King.  Now, girl, your name."

"Her name is Arianna," King Nicholas said.  He did not look bowed or intimidated by Rugad's strength despite the interaction.  He looked more like a man with an understanding of, and a dislike for, games. 

This time, Rugad permitted the smile.  "A name with history.  Did Jewel choose it?"

"Jewel died as Arianna was being born."

"You can't tell me that you chose such a distinguished Fey name for your daughter by luck."

"No," Nicholas said.  "No luck.  I had good advice."

The guards were shifting.  The movements were slight, but Rugad noted them.  He was not facing a hostile enemy.  He was facing one with a great deal of knowledge about the Fey.  He had to acknowledge that.

"You married my granddaughter."

"She was a remarkable woman."

"And your people murdered her."

A shadow passed over the King's face. He still mourned her.  He had loved her.  Rugad had not expected that.  He had expected a marriage of convenience, nothing more.

"One man murdered her," Nicholas said.  "He was dealt with."

The phrase was vague.  There was a story behind it, one that Rugad did not have time for.

"You expect special treatment because you married her," Rugad said, keeping his voice firm.  "Because your blood flows in the body of my great-granddaughter?"

Nicholas was silent for a moment, his features smooth.  The roundness of his face made him appear younger than he was, still a boy, yet another way to underestimate him.  "When," he asked, "did I ask for special treatment?"

There was a faint note of contempt in his voice, just enough for Rugad to hear it, and faint enough for him to claim he had never meant any disrespect.

"You asked for a meeting," Rugad said.

"It is customary in my land for rulers to meet and negotiate."

"When have you had the chance to meet or negotiate with anyone?"

"I negotiated with Jewel," Nicholas said.

Again, point to the Islander.  Despite himself, Rugad liked this young King.  Perhaps some of Arianna's spirit came from her father as well.

"So," Nicholas continued without much of a pause, "you're the one in error here."

The guards shifted again.  A few looked at each other.  Rugad noted the movements.  No one spoke to the Black King that way.

No one.

"My people have already made an alliance with the Fey.  You had no cause to come into our country, burn our city, attack our Tabernacle or hold me hostage."

"An alliance?" Rugad said softly.  "My people don't make alliances."

"Your granddaughter did."  Nicholas took his daughter's arm and pulled her close.  "My children are proof of that.  This Isle is already part of the Fey Empire.  By blood."

"Then why are yours the only half-breeds?"

"Because your people don't assimilate well."

Amazing, this man.  Just amazing.  He did not cower in the face of the Fey.  He didn't hide in such complete loss.  Still he fought.  If Jewel were alive, Rugad would have commended her choice.

"My people don't assimilate," Rugad said.  "We conquer.  And that is where my granddaughter failed."

Color rose in Nicholas's cheeks. They flushed a soft red.  Light skin had its disadvantages then.  It showed emotion so much easier than Fey skin. 

"If you weren't so blind, you would see that your granddaughter did not fail."  He pushed his daughter forward slightly.  She looked at him with alarm.  "Forever Blue Isle is allied with the Fey.  The blood of our sacred ruler has mixed with your infamous Black Blood.  We are a hereditary monarchy.  My children, no matter whom I created them with, will rule.  And you just destroyed their heritage."

"I didn't destroy anything," Rugad said before he could stop himself.  "The wealth of Blue Isle remains intact."

"Are you so certain?  Perhaps the cities on Galinas mean little in comparison to their fields, but here, we had enormous wealth.  The Tabernacle alone had not just wealth but history.  Importance.  And you destroyed it."

"I destroyed a threat to the Fey."

"If the Tabernacle threatened the Fey, then how did so many Fey survive all these years?  You are ruthless for the sake of ruthlessness and it has made you careless."

"Enough!" Rugad spoke so loudly that Arianna backed up.  Her father caught her.  Her father hadn't moved.  Neither had the Golem, who continued to watch Rugad with intelligent eyes.  "The Fey do not ally.  They conquer.  And in that, Jewel failed.  She did not conquer your people.  The Islanders had no fear of the Fey and you contributed nothing to the Empire, not one thing in twenty years.  Goods and services in one part of the Empire belong to all parts of the Empire.  Your trading stopped the moment my son stepped on your shores, and it has not resumed."

"Because we could not get off the Isle.  We destroyed the maps and sent away our Guardian watchers long before Jewel and I even discussed marriage."  His blue eyes were clear.  His expression as guileless as Rugad's could be.  "If you had sent ships, we would have filled them. Provided, of course, that they could have made it through the Stone Guardians and up the Cardidas."

He was brilliant, this King, and he was making Rugad look like a fool before his own guards.  The Islanders had no knowledge of war.  Rugar had been right.  But their leader was unequaled in all of Rugad's experience.  Never had Rugad met a man who could best him  — even briefly —  in conversation, and in war.

Anything Rugad would say at this point would sound defensive.  So he decided not to address any of Nicholas's points.  "Where is your son?"

"Beside me," Nicholas said.

Rugad looked at the Golem.  He looked back, the strength in his eyes matching Nicholas's.  Yet Rugad could see no life around the creature.  It was a Golem.  Later Rugad would check it, for Links.

"Your real son."

"Sebastian is my son and has been his entire life."

"That creature is a golem," Rugad snapped.  "It is a lump of stone."

"Stop it!" the girl said.  "He's my brother.  He's a person, just like you are."

"Oh, no, little girl," Rugad said.  "I am very real.  I do not shatter when cold."

"No," she said.  "But you'd die if someone pierced you through the heart."

Several guards put their hands on their swords.  Rugad glared at them, reminding them silently that they couldn't touch the girl.  "As would you, child," Rugad said.  He smiled at her and let the warmth he actually felt shine through his eyes.  She was magnificent.  All he had to do was make her his.  "You understand, don't you, that I'm not here for Blue Isle.  Blue Isle is, and has always been, the Fey's for the taking.  I am here for you."

"For me?" She cocked her head slightly.  "Well, you have me now."

Rugad shook his head.  "I won't have you until you understand what you are."

She brought her eyelids down slightly.  It had the effect of flattening her face, of making her seem distant and cold. 

"Blue Isle is a tiny place in the center of the Infrin Sea.  There are nine seas, and five continents.  The Fey empire stretches over three of those continents.  If you work with me, girl, you will rule not only Blue Isle, but all of those continents, all of those countries, and you will have more power than you ever dreamed of."

"I don't dream of power," she said, but her voice wavered just enough to let him know that she considered it.  "And I won't rule Blue Isle.  My brother will."

"Your brother? Raised by my people with no love for your traditions?"

" … He … knows … the … tra-di-tions," the Golem said.  His voice was raspy and hard.  It made several of the guards jump.  Rugad met each of their eyes, and they looked away.  It would take days of work to get his troop back to its normal morale level.

"So," Rugad said, "you are my great-grandson's puppet."

"He's no one's puppet," the girl said.

"Oh, he's someone's," Rugad said, "Or he would not have the life he does."

"Leave my son alone," Nicholas said.

"He is not your son," Rugad said.  "He is a bit of stone."

"He is a man with a life of his own," Nicholas said. 

"He is not living flesh," Rugad said, wondering how this man couldn't know that what he called a son was merely a magickal construct.  He had thought the King brilliant.  He had not expected this.

"He may not be living flesh," Nicholas said, "but he has a living soul  —  and it's probably purer than any of ours."

Rugad glanced at the Golem again.  He was constantly underestimating things in this place.  A Golem with a pure essence?  A Golem that lived for eighteen years, a Golem with a mind of its own?  Perhaps it was more than a construct.  But if it was, he didn't know exactly what it was.

"He had to have gotten his life from somewhere," Rugad said, hoping to draw the discussion away from the Golem.  "And he seems to know a lot about my great-grandson."

The Golem didn't move.  The girl did.  She glanced from her father to the Golem, and then back to Rugad.  "Leave him alone," she said.

"Why?" Rugad said, pleased at having discovered their mutual weakness, "when he's a direct link to my great-grandson?"

He took a step closer.  His guards moved with him.  He would see how far this loyalty went.  "All I have to do," Rugad said, reaching toward the Golem, "is travel through him along his very powerful Link to find my great-grandson."

" … Nooo … " the Golem said, wrenching his head back.

"It could, of course, shatter the Golem, but since he's not alive anyway  — "

"You will not hurt him!" The girl moved with such swiftness that Rugad didn't even have time to shout a warning.  She grabbed a sword off one of his guards, swung it over two other guards' heads, and shoved it at Rugad's neck.  The sharp tip pricked his skin.

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