A Crown Imperiled (45 page)

She reached the kitchen and found the staff oblivious to the mayhem above as the chief cook oversaw a banquet for over five hundred guests scheduled to begin in less than two hours. Servants were already beginning to organize large trays of delicacies and cups were being arranged for wine service. Finally a baker’s apprentice noticed Franciezka and his eyes widened at the sight of this woman with her hair dishevelled and a large knife in either hand. Before he could speak, she shouted, ‘Flour? Where is the flour?’

The boy pointed as other eyes turned to stare at the intruder. She saw a five-pound sack of flour sitting on a large rolling table and another unopened beneath the table. She threw both knives point down into the table and said, ‘Don’t anyone climb those stairs to the great hall until you’ve been told it is safe!’

She grabbed both sacks, one under each arm, ignoring the one that was spilling and hurried back up the stairs. A fit woman, she was nevertheless panting by the time she reached the top. How did the servants manage to make that climb dozens of times during a feast, she absently wondered?

She pushed her way past nobles crowding the entrance, and saw a young woman look at her with wide eyes. As that woman took a step towards her, Franciezka said, ‘Don’t go down there! There are more of them!’

The woman immediately pulled back and screamed. It was hardly noticed in the bedlam. Franciezka reached Jim and said, ‘Cut this one!’ as she dropped the unopened bag at his feet.

She reached into the open bag and took as large a handful of flour in it as she could, then shouted, ‘Hal! Close your eyes!’

Out of breath, perspiration dripping off his brow from dodging and slashing at the invisible creature, Hal shouted back, ‘Are you daft?’

‘Shield your eyes!’ Jim yelled.

Franciezka threw flour in the general direction of the shifting shape and the flour exploded into a white dusty cloud. Suddenly there was an outline Hal could see.

In a fury of blade work, he darted in and started cutting at the creature, retreating when necessary. Then another blade joined his as Ty leapt past Gabriella and stabbed the creature when it turned to confront Hal.

Quickly Hal and Ty forced the closest dancer to retreat, while some of the more bold guardsmen pressed forward now that they could make out the elusive assassins. Cut, slice, thrust, and the wailing increased until it approached an ear-splitting level.

Hal was puffing as he sought to press the first dancer, his face running with perspiration. Ty shouted, ‘Back. Catch your wind! I’ll hold him.’

An Isles guardsman attempted to take Hal’s place but his move was ill-timed and the dancer wheeled and sliced him across the throat. With a wide-eyed expression the guardsman went to his knees, his neck fountaining blood.

As the death-dancers got more injured they became more frantic, and more soldiers died. Jim moved to a position between the combatants and the now flour-covered Franciezka, shouting, ‘Look for an opening, and if you see one, get the King and Princess out of here!’

‘I will, but as fast as those things are moving, I doubt one will present itself!’

A bold Keshian legionary leapt forward, attempting a shield bash and was rewarded by the dancer closest to him falling back, its warbling cry tinged with outrage. For his pains, the Keshian soldier felt a cracking blow across his shield that sent a shock up his arm.

That presented the opening needed for Emperor Sezioti to be whisked out of the nearest entrance, into a safer part of the palace. The enraged death-dancer attempted to follow, but the determined legionary again bashed it with his shield and struck out with his scimitar.

Jim saw his grandfather trying to protect King Gregory and the Queen, and motioned toward the doorway through which the Keshians had escaped. Lord James nodded that he understood his grandson’s signal, and shouted orders to the guard captain to be ready to move towards that escape should the way open.

Jim saw there was something wrong with King Gregory. His right eye drooped and his right arm was dangling uselessly. Jim prayed the King hadn’t been struck by the death-dancer: from what he knew of them from a report Pug had penned years before, few survived such an attack. One who had was Ty’s father Tal, but he had the best magic and medicine the Conclave of Shadows could provide, and they had got to him quickly.

Jim looked around and saw that with the Keshians gone, save for the one brave legionary holding the door, two dancers were now attacking the Kingdom defenders. He turned his attention to the one facing Ty and saw Hal leap at it.

To no one in particular he said ‘Damn, those are some brave youngsters.’

‘Yes, they are,’ said Franciezka at his side.

He glanced at her and would have found her flour-covered visage amusing were it not for the circumstances. Indeed, flour was everywhere, in many places stained with crimson blood, producing an odd pink clump when the two substances combined.

The death-dancers were now frantic to the point of hurling themselves against whatever was before them, people, walls, furniture. Fatigued guardsmen were knocked into one another, and Jim shouted, ‘One of the king’s is going to die if we don’t end this soon!’

Suddenly a humming filled the room and Jim saw a figure standing in red robes on the other side. He held up his hands and the humming grew louder. The instant result was that the three death-dancers ceased moving but rather stood and vibrated as if trying to get into harmony with the note. It grew louder to the point of being painful and men screamed in pain and covered their ears.

Then suddenly the sound was gone.

And so were the death-dancers.

The three advisors were dead. And from preliminary reports from the palace chirurgeon they were never truly alive. Whatever they would turn out to be, they weren’t human.

Ruffio sat in the middle of an ad hoc summit of representatives from the three nations. No monarch attended, for reasons of safety. Moreover, word was King Gregory had suffered some sort of seizure and was being attended by priests and chirurgeons.

As the most senior Roldemish noble, Duke Vladislas of Ansevat served as the informal leader of the conference. Next to him at the table sat Lord Jamison, Duke of Rillanon, flanked on one side by his grandson, Jim. Franciezka sat next to Duke Vladislas, and to her left sat the senior Keshian representative, Prince Jantashi, one of the Emperor’s many nephews.

Given the dire circumstances of the evening’s events, a great deal of wine was sitting on the table and had been partaken of freely. Jim said, ‘My lord Jantashi, if I may presume to offer a suggestion?’

‘Yes, Lord Jamison?’

‘Send word to the Jal-Pur and recall Lord Hazara-Khan. He was wrongly implicated in treason and is innocent of any such thing, but he is a valuable and talented servant of your Emperor, and you will need him in days to come.’

‘Odd to consider such a request from an enemy of the state as having any validity.’

‘Oh, I am many things, my lord,’ admitted Jim, ‘but an enemy of Kesh is not one of them.’ Glancing around the room, he said, ‘Our roles as agents of intrigue are coming to an end, Kaseem and myself.’ He neglected to mention Franciezka, assuming she’d prefer to make any such revelation on her own terms. ‘He is still too smart and talented a man not to utilize, and I will retire from public life at my king’s pleasure. But know I only sought to maintain peace between our nations, as difficult as that proved at times.’

His grandfather barely could contain his own anger, as he said, ‘And need I remind you, Prince Jantashi, that we had peace, nearly a century of it, except for those nasty little brawls in the Vale, until your nation launched a full-scale invasion of mine?’

It was the magician who spoke. ‘Forgive the interruption, my lords, from this commoner, but it is clear that magic played a hand. Several of your own parties are repeating that it is as if they have awakened from a dream, some claiming to have been that way for years. The three advisors who perished were not human, but creatures of some alien nature which have been among us for a long time. Sir William was a young soldier with King Gregory nearly thirty years ago, and likewise Prince Harfum and Lord John have been fixtures in the capital for decades, slowly building up their influence. But consider how no one ever questioned the power they so gradually built up.’

Two other magicians had accompanied Ruffio from the Academy and both were, like the red-clad spell-caster, also servants of the Conclave of Shadows. One had been detailed to examine the corpses of the three dead nobles, while the other had been speaking to anyone and everyone who exhibited any signs of having been under those dead nobles’ influences.

‘We will not know much more for some time to come,’ said Ruffio, absently stroking his black beard, ‘but I am certain we shall find the recent insanity was the result of this plan, and whoever was behind it.’

‘Just who are you?’ asked Lord Vladislas.

‘A humble servant,’ answered Ruffio with a self-deprecating smile. Jim knew better, but kept his mouth shut. ‘I teach at the Academy at Stardock. Pug of Stardock asked us to keep an eye on this meeting, for it was obviously a critical one, and his concerns proved justified. I am sorry it took us so long to react, but we thought it wise not to come too close to the meeting.’ He glanced around and added, ‘We assumed there would be other magic-users, those loyal to the rulers, in attendance as well. This obviously was not the case. Why is that?’

If the idea of a commoner questioning them rankled, the attending nobles kept it under control. It was Prince Jantashi who said, ‘The Emperor, blessings be upon him, had a magical adviser, when he was young. It resulted from a horrible attempt on the life of his grandfather. It was before my time, so I am vague on the details. But I know that for many years there was a court magician.’ His voice dropped as he said, ‘I believe it was Lord Harfum who ended that practice.’

Ruffio nodded. He glanced at Lord Jamison. ‘King Borric had a pet magician,’ he said gruffly. He looked at Ruffio. ‘If you’re from Stardock, ask Pug about his last conversation with King Patrick. It’s why there’s been no court magician in Rillanon since.’

Ruffio nodded. ‘I’ve heard the story, my lord.’

‘Roldem has never had any court magic,’ said Vladislas.

Ruffio shrugged. ‘Had we but known, we might have saved a few more lives.’

Vladislas said, ‘Look, this is all well and good and I’m sure Ruffio here will be happy to tell anyone how he did what he did to get rid of those things but our job is to end this damn bloody war.’ He glanced at Jantashi, who nodded.

To the Keshian, he said, ‘You started it and it was your message to our king that halted it. What do you suggest?’

‘To be honest, my lord, I doubt there’s a sane man in the Empire who knows why we invaded the Isles. If we were going to attack, the Vale is the only place worth claiming, and the cost of winning it is more than that lush valley is worth. It’s clear that the evolution of reasons, the displacement of rebellious tribes from the Confederacy, the “reclaiming” of Bosania, the ultimate subjugation of Queg, and the re-establishment of ancient borders were simply a means to create as much war fever as possible among those members of the Gallery of Lords and Masters who were not directly under Prince Harfum’s influence.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘Until the Emperor, blessings be upon him, is safely back in his palace, I have no idea what is possible.’

‘You could pick up your toys and go home,’ said Lord James.

‘We have colonists scattered from Carse to the Yabon border in the Far Coast region, my lord. We occupy half of the city of Ylith. We have three enclaves along the coast of the Free Cities, and a total blockade of Krondor and Port Vykor. And you want us to “pick up our toys”?’

‘Yes,’ said James.

Jim watched his grandfather closely and saw a determination in his expression he’d not seen for years. Half of Jim’s life had been involved in criminal behaviour, but the other half had been in service to the Crown, and his exemplar for that sat to his right. His grandfather was prepared to die this very moment for what he believed in.

‘I have no authority to negotiate a settlement,’ said Prince Jantashi.

‘Just what authority to you have?’ asked Duke Vladislas.

The Prince smiled. ‘Not much really. Anything I agree to can obviously be countermanded by the Emperor, blessings be upon him. Just as your kings can overrule you.’

‘Understood,’ said James, ‘but you’re not just sitting here taking up space, are you?’

‘I can agree to maintain the current armistice until more formal negotiations are undertaken. I think you’ll agree that given what we endured earlier today, any hope of a quick resolution is unreasonable.’

‘We want concessions,’ said James.

‘What do you ask?’

‘Get your boys out of Yabon. Pull them back to the border with Crydee so we can get some up there. Young Lord Martin’s got a starving city and no easy way to bring in food and relief.’

Jim barely could contain himself. His grandfather was lying like a gambler with a pair of loaded dice. Caravans of foodstuff had already been dispatched from Krondor via Sarth and the Quegans were keeping Kesh’s fleet south of their island in check. In fact, relations between the Kingdom and Queg had never been better: nothing like a common enemy to get rivals to put aside differences. No, Jim’s grandfather was already planning a campaign to retake Crydee from Kesh and wanted Kesh’s permission to go ahead. Jim hoped this Keshian prince was as ignorant of geography and politics in the north as most Keshian Truebloods.

Prince Jantashi nodded. ‘I’ll ask for a withdrawal to the border.’ Then he smiled. ‘Plot your invasion of Crydee, Lord James. I am certain that within a year or so the Emperor will gladly return it to you. No need for bloodshed if you’re patient.’

Jim could barely contain his smile as his grandfather fumed. Apparently this Keshian prince had been selected for more than who he was related to. He turned to Jim and said, ‘I will seriously consider your recommendation regarding Lord Hazara-Khan. The men of the Jal-Pur have been among our most loyal subjects for centuries, and he was one of those who obviously was not ensorcelled by Prince Harfum and his minions.’ To their host, he said, ‘Lord Vladislas, our thanks for your hospitality. Kesh knows that Roldem is entirely blameless for the butchery done this day and our Emperor, blessings be upon him, wishes his beloved brother King Carol to know that he is held in the highest regard. Kesh’s fleet in the Sea of Kingdoms will withdraw to our traditional spheres of control.’ He rose and the others rose as well, then sat down again after he had left.