The Spirit War (21 page)

The throne room had no wings, but there was a gallery running around the upper level that was already full. Above the gallery, a line of thin windows carved the bright island sunlight into slices that struck the crowd at regular intervals, painting the hall in stripes of light. Down on the floor, the people were better dressed than in the gallery, but Eli saw none of the sort of ostentation normally found in the court of such a wealthy country. There was little jewelry to be seen, even on the older women. Dresses were muted colors, dark reds, greens, or navy. The men wore black almost exclusively, and everyone, even the women, was armed.

“I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about the knives, now,” Eli whispered.

“What did you expect?” Josef said, pushing his way toward the throne. “This is Osera. They didn’t call my grandfather Bloody Liechten because of his contributions to the arts.”

Eli grimaced. Parts of Josef’s personality were becoming more understandable by the second.

“I’m surprised no one’s come up to you yet,” he said, looking around. People were certainly staring but, oddly, no one had made a move to approach their long-lost prince. In Eli’s experience, a prince, even an outcast runaway like Josef, was still someone who garnered favor currying by social climbers. These people seemed almost afraid.

Josef just shrugged. “They probably don’t recognize me. I’m a lot bigger than I was when I left.”

Eli kept his mouth shut about the likelihood of that explanation and focused on following the path Josef opened through the crowd.

As it happened, they made it all the way to the railing that separated the dais from the rest of the room without being approached.
This close, Eli could see the throne easily. Like everything in the castle, the throne of Osera radiated age and deep-rooted authority. It was enormous, a naked stone bench wide enough to seat two men of Josef’s size with room to spare. The stone was the smooth, dove-gray rock of the mountain the castle sat on. It was carved with undulating patterns that mimicked the crashing sea so that whoever sat on the throne looked to be floating on a stone wave. A nice trick, all told, but the thing that really caught Eli’s attention wasn’t the throne itself, but the statues flanking it. Two enormous lions cast from midnight-black iron were anchored on either side of the throne. The lions stood rampant on their hind legs with their backs to the wall and their front paws reaching out to claw whoever defied Osera’s ruler.

“Throne of iron lions, indeed,” Eli whispered, leaning in to admire the delicate metalwork of their curling manes.

“What?” Josef said, looking up from his spot leaning against a support pillar.

Eli shook his head and set about studying the court instead. He scanned the people around them, trying to pick out Josef’s relatives from the crush. It proved harder than he’d thought it would be. Tall, blond, and grumpy seemed to be the motif among Oseran nobility. He’d never seen a sourer-faced crowd in his life.

“Josef,” Eli whispered. “Wasn’t Osera founded on piracy?”

“Among other things,” Josef said dryly.

Eli waved at the scowling crowd. “I thought pirates were supposed to be jolly.”

Josef made a sound in the back of his throat that reminded Eli of a ghosthound’s growl. “Maybe you haven’t been paying attention, but Osera doesn’t have a lot to be jolly about at the moment.”

“I don’t see that you were ever jolly,” Eli said, glancing again at the lions.

Josef followed his gaze. “Not much room for it,” he said quietly.
“Osera has always been ruled by the strong. Has to be. The sea eats the soft and the weak. The lions are there to remind people of that.”

“Point taken,” Eli said. He was about to ask another question when Josef suddenly pushed off the pillar.

“Eyes front,” Josef said, pulling his jacket straight. “The queen’s coming.”

“But there’s still half an hour before court!” Eli protested.

“Why do you think everyone gets here early?”

Eli’s answer was drowned out by a peel of trumpets as a six squad of guards in full armor marched into the throne room. People scooted out of their way, clearing a wide swath down the middle. The guards walked the full length of the hall, peeling off in pairs to stand at attention before each pillar until they had formed an armed corridor from the door to the throne. When they were in position, the trumpets sounded again, and the room filled with the sweep of cloth and the creak of leather as everyone, nobles and servants, bowed in reverence as Queen Theresa herself entered the throne room.

The queen looked very different from the night before. Her white hair was pulled up beneath a plain, masculine crown of heavy gold. She was clothed in black, a widow’s mourning dress of stiff, raw silk. Her lined face looked pale and pinched, but she stood straight, walking on her own with one hand resting on the arm of the tall, lovely woman in armor walking beside her—Princess Adela, Josef’s wife.

The princess made an impressive sight. With her dark, glossy hair and bright silver armor, she shone like a beacon beside the queen’s dour black, an effect that was not lost on the crowd. People glanced up from their bows as the princess passed. Their faces were a mix of envy and adoration. More adoration than Eli had expected. With great care, Adela helped the queen up the dais
stairs to the wide throne. Beside him, Eli felt Josef stiffen, but the swordsman said nothing as his wife helped his mother down to the hard stone bench. When she was settled, Adela stepped aside, leaving Theresa to survey her court.

Eli swallowed. The queen of Osera on her throne was an impressive sight indeed. The black of her dress shone from the gray stone like a rock among the waves. Above her, the lions’ extended paws framed her head like a second crown, a reminder of the power her position held, an ancient, bloody, visceral power that had nothing to do with the Council or Osera’s newfound wealth. Theresa’s pale eyes moved over the crowd, noting and dismissing each face until she found Josef’s.

“You,” she said, her voice echoing through the silent chamber. “Up here.”

Josef and Eli exchanged a final look, and then Josef pushed off the pillar, stepped over the railing, and climbed the stone steps to stand beside his mother.

“My son,” Theresa announced in a voice so harsh it made Eli wince. “Prince Josef Liechten Thereson Esinlowe, has returned from his travels to grace us with his presence one again.”

A murmur rose up from the crowd, and Josef shifted uncomfortably. Eli bit his lip, half expecting Josef to walk out, but he stayed rooted to the step beside the throne, glaring at the crowded room like he was daring them to do something about it.

“Last year,” the queen continued, “I declared the marriage of my son to Adela Theresa Reiniger, daughter of Lord Reiniger and his wife, the Lady Lenette, my dearest friend and lady of the chamber. Today, I reaffirm that bond.”

She beckoned, and Adela stepped forward, her hard-soled boots clacking against the stone until she was standing directly at the queen’s right. Theresa motioned again, and Josef reluctantly moved
closer. Theresa took Adela’s hand and pressed it to Josef, who took it hesitantly. The queen smiled as the connection was made and gave them both a push.

“People of Osera,” she announced as Josef and Adela turned to face the room. “I give you your prince and princess. Through this union, the blood of the House of Eisenlowe shall flow to a new generation. May the strength of the Iron Lions breed true, and may the House of Eisenlowe never fall.”

Applause erupted throughout the court, but the noise rang hollow in Eli’s ears. No one looked particularly happy. Not the couple, and certainly not the party of large, blond gentlemen in rich suits standing across the aisle.

The room fell silent again as the queen raised a skeletal hand. “The royal couple will now perform the Proving,” she announced. “Clear the hall.”

“Clear the hall!” The cry went up as the guards began directing people to the edges of the room.

Eli glanced around in alarm. Up by the throne, the prince and princess separated without so much as a glance, Adela down the stairs toward the back of the room, Josef back toward Eli with a glum look.

“What’s the Proving?” Eli hissed when Josef reached him. “You didn’t say anything about any Proving.” He looked sideways at the large, clear space that had formed at the center of the room. “Is this like the first dance, or something? Is her father going to give her away?”

“Adela’s father is dead,” Josef said, plucking knives out of his clothes and handing them to Eli. “And the Proving is an old Oseran tradition.”

“Right,” Eli said, taking the knives with trepidation. “So like a dance with quaint folk music?”

“It’s not a dance,” Josef said, lifting the Heart from his back and setting it gently against the pillar. “It’s a duel.”

“
A duel?
” Eli said, more loudly than he would have liked. The comment drew several nasty looks from the people around them. Eli gritted his teeth and dropped his voice. “I thought you just got married?”

“We did,” Josef said, checking the short sword at his hip. “This is the next part of the ceremony. It’s the duty of all members of the royal family to protect Osera. So whenever someone in the family gets married, both husband and wife have to fight a demonstration duel to prove they are capable of holding the throne.”

“Holding the throne?” Eli said. “What century do you think this is? Are you going to drag her to the marriage chamber by her hair next?”

“Osera is an old country,” Josef said. “My grandfather nearly killed the woman who was to be his first wife. Stabbed her twice before sending her away for being too weak.”

“That’s
horrible
,” Eli cried.

Josef shrugged. “That’s how things are here. But don’t worry, I won’t hurt Adela. I’m just going scare her into an honorable surrender.” He grinned, patting the sword at his hip. “Shouldn’t take long.”

In anyone else, Eli would have called that remark arrogant, but this being Josef, Eli had to spot him that one. “Try not to embarrass her too badly,” he said. “Remember, our getting out of here depends on your mother getting her grandchild, and that’ll be a little difficult if your princess is making you sleep on the floor.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Josef said, walking through the parted crowd.

Eli bit his lip and followed, clutching Josef’s cast-off blades to his chest. Adela was waiting for Josef at the center of the makeshift dueling arena. She was flanked by two armored men, one young,
one gray haired. Both looked unhappy, but the princess was smiling. She turned to her escorts and whispered something that made them smile as well before they stepped back, leaving her alone at her end of the cleared hall. The princess turned to face Josef as he moved to take his place opposite her, drawing her heavy short sword with a metal hiss as she took up her position. Josef drew his sword as well and stopped in a stance Eli recognized: first position, the root of swordsmanship.

The queen looked down on the combatants from her throne, her wrinkled face like a crumpled paper mask. Only her hands betrayed her true feelings. They were knotted in her lap, the heavy rings biting into the taut skin of her fingers as she lifted her chin.

“Begin.”

The word was scarcely out of her mouth before Josef sprang forward. The crowd gasped, and even Eli stepped back. Josef charged like an avalanche, enormous and unstoppable with his sword flipped in his grip, the flat of the blade already whistling down to strike Adela’s sword hand.

If Eli had not spent years watching Josef fight, he would have missed what happened next. As it was, he still wasn’t sure how it came about. One second, Josef was perfectly on target, the next, Adela was behind him, her feet turning neatly as she slid around his blade.

Josef turned as the lunge carried him past where her hand had been, throwing his weight to bring his sword up in time to catch hers before it landed in his back. Their blades crashed in a shower of sparks, and Josef stumbled at the impact. Eli caught his breath. They were fighting with infantry short swords, so they were very close. That left little time to react to a strike and less to dodge. Adela had done both
and
come around with a counter. He could see the same thoughts on Josef’s surprised face as he fell back, catching
himself at the last moment with his free hand. The second his fingers touched the floor, he pushed up, forcing Adela back with his superior height and breaking their lock. The princess retreated neatly, letting her sword follow the force sideways and down for a blow at Josef’s side. But surprise attacks work only once. This time, Josef was ready. He parried her blow with a dip of his blade and stepped in, slamming his shoulder into her chest. Adela grunted and fell, landing hard on her back with a clatter of metal. Josef followed her as she went down, planting his feet on either side of her body and placing his sword’s point on her exposed neck.

Adela held up her hands immediately, and the crowd began to applaud. The duel was over. Josef had won. Josef stared at the downed princess a moment longer before swinging his sword away and offering his hand. Adela took it, and he pulled her up. The applause died down as they walked through the throne room and up the dais stairs to stand again before the queen.

“The proof has been made plain,” Queen Theresa announced, smiling widely as prince and princess took their places at her side. “Both have shown before all they can wield a sword in Osera’s name. The bond begun a year ago is now complete. Bow before your prince and princess.”

The room filled with the rustle of silk as the crowd obeyed. Eli bowed as well, but he kept his eyes on Josef. The swordsman had that look on his face, the one he got when he was extremely angry and trying to hide it.

As people began to raise their heads, the queen said something to Adela that Eli couldn’t hear. The princess nodded and motioned to someone down the steps. At once, Lenette appeared from the crowd and hurried to the queen’s side. Theresa reached for Lenette, and the lady-in-waiting pulled her up, supporting the queen by her shoulders. The princess and Josef turned to help, but the queen
shook her head and firmly pointed for them to turn back and face the people. They obeyed, Adela more swiftly than Josef, as Lenette helped the queen hobble slowly down the dais steps and out a side door.