In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) (3 page)

Hussack didn’t even flinch. If anything, he looked amused at the revelation, smiling coldly. “I see. Well, sire, I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for that. Your spies missed one rather important detail: We already had an army stationed north of here, along the border of your Province of Sycanth. According to a message I received this morning, that army began the invasion yesterday. Given the lack of any organized defense along that border, they should be arriving here...” he paused, considering. “Perhaps as early as tomorrow.

“Your armies are scattered and cannot be marshaled in time to defend this city. Your people may be able to put up a token resistance, but it will take some time before you can amass a proper army to match us. Your kingdom will fall, and the men and women of your royal line will become the subservient little pissants they should have been since the time of our great grandfathers.”

With an arrogant grin, Hussack raised an arm towards Troubuxet, who was standing behind him, well outside of the protection of any of the guards or lodestones. With a single thought. the iron-chained medallion Mussack had recently gifted their tutor was torn off, snapping the tutor’s neck in the process.

“He’s a mage!,” Maelgyn cried out. He hurried to bring up the mindset needed to counter a magical attack. “Watch yourselves!”

Troubuxet fell to the ground, dead, as the chain was bent, warped, and melted to form several seven-inch long
senbon
needles, landing safely into Hussack’s outstretched palm. Before anyone could react, he threw those needles into the throats and eyes of several guards around the room.

Maelgyn barely managed to raise a magical defense against the improvised weapons, shielding himself, his cousins and his father from the deadly needles mere moments before they would all have been struck.

Hussack didn’t even notice Maelgyn’s feat as he had moved on to a new target. With the guards disposed of, he had the time to punch his magic through the disruptive barrier provided by the lodestones, and ripped the Royal Sword right out of its sheath, still in its belt at King Gilbereth’s side.

“Hmm, not bad,” Hussack mused absently, testing the sword’s weight. “I suppose I might grow to like a weapon like this... but I need to test its sharpness, first.” Gilbereth tried to dive for one of the downed guard’s weapons, but he was cut off by Mussack, who had already taken one and was moving to help his father. A white-hot line of pain across the back of his neck was the final sensation Gilbereth felt, as Hussack turned the old King’s sword against him.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Hussack taunted the dying king. “But I must inform you that it is too late to withdraw your kingdom from the alliance. And, well, I’m afraid that the chances of your armies ‘meeting us when they are needed’ are not as good as you think.”

Chapter 2

Nattiel was the first person to recover from the shock of Gilbereth’s assassination. Grabbing the three younger princes, he shoved them behind him. Hussack hardly noticed, his attention occupied fighting off the dozens of royal guards streaming into the room as cries of alarm drew them in. Hussack was now wielding two swords recovered from the dead bodies of his victims, while a third was handed off to his son. Even Mussack, who obviously knew of the plot beforehand, seemed a little shocked, but he nevertheless was fighting alongside his father, and it was obvious that they were better swordsmen than anyone in the castle had suspected.

Had Hussack not also been an extraordinary mage the guards may have stood a chance, but guards trained and equipped to fight mages as powerful as Hussack were rare. The Sho’Curlas nobleman-turned-assassin had even less trouble magicking through the lodestone protection the guards wore than he had overcoming the more powerful lodestones used to protect the throne. Maelgyn might stand a chance of protecting himself with his dragonhide armor and his own magical abilities, but that was chancy, at best – he’d never seen anyone as magically powerful as Hussack.

“Get out of here,” Nattiel whispered fiercely. “Send word to the other Swords, then split up and take charge of your own provinces. If they’ve already hit Sycanth, chances are they’ll be here soon, and will move on to the other provinces shortly – you need to prepare your forces to meet them. And don’t worry about Hussack and his brat. I’ll keep him from following you.”

“How, father?” Maelgyn asked, worried.

“Well, I may not be a mage,” he replied, snorting in disgust. “But I’m wearing dragonhide armor, and I’m fairly skilled with a sword. I don’t have to beat him. I just have to stop him from following you, and then barricade him in the throne room while you all make your escape.”

“But... father, what about you?”

He grimaced. “Someone has to be here to lead the castle through the siege. The longer the castle holds, the more time you three will have to organize Svieda’s defense, and I know this old castle’s defenses better than anyone – I can hold the castle for some time. If I don’t... well, let’s not think about that. I’ll try to get away before the city falls, but in the meantime I’m needed here. You three are needed elsewhere, and quickly. Now, go! Get out of here before you can’t.”

“Father, I… “

“I know, son,” he said. “But there’s no time.
Go
!”

“But I can help you fight!” Maelgyn exclaimed furiously. “I know both the way of the sword
and
magic! I may not be good enough in either to match this man, but together, we can defeat him!”

Nattiel started to turn back to the men fighting at the other end of the throne room. “Brode, Arnach? Help him leave, please.”

Brode and Arnach grabbed one of Maelgyn’s arms each, and started dragging him away. “Come on, ‘gyn,” Arnach said. “He’s right. I know it hurts. We’ve already lost our father, and yes, you might yet lose yours, as well. But he’s right, we have to go.”

Maelgyn tensed. With the strength of his magic, there was no way his cousins could force him away. He could stay, and no-one would be able to stop him.

“Very well,” Maelgyn said, shrugging off their grips. He would honor his father’s sacrifice. “But I shall return.”

The three young men mounted their horses soberly. They had passed the word for castle defenses to be prepared, but in the chaos of Gilbereth’s death and the on-going battle in the throne room it seemed unlikely the castle would be ready. Of course, that was what Nattiel was staying behind to deal with.

As Maelgyn was saddling his horse, he received word that his father had managed to get out of the throne room alive and was now taking charge of the castle. There was still the coming siege and a serious threat
inside
the castle to deal with, but Nattiel’s immediate survival eased his heart. A platoon of guards and all four court mages, long in knowledge but significantly weaker than Hussack, combined their magical strength to seal Hussack and his son inside the throne room. That would be a significant chunk of Nattiel’s resources already expended when the Sho’Curlas siege train arrived, but it would allow him to turn his attention to the castle’s defense.

“So,” Maelgyn began hesitantly. “Any idea where to go first?”

“There’s a post station just twenty minutes hard riding from the castle,” Arnach suggested. “It’s where most mail from the castle leaves, so they should easily be able to handle notifying everyone.”

Maelgyn nodded, realizing he could send a message to Sopan that would likely arrive before he did. “Then we split and go our separate ways?”

“Yes... unless you want to come with one of us?” Arnach asked hopefully. He had been especially close to his father, and now it looked as if Maelgyn would be leaving as well. It wasn’t the time for selfishness, but there were sound reasons to keep his friend and cousin nearby while they grieved. “Brode and I could both give you a ship which would get you to Sopan faster than any chance you’d have to get there overland.”

Maelgyn shook his head. “No. I’ll head to Largo and may ship out from there. The winds are wrong this time of year for an ocean trip from either of your provinces. They know I’ll almost certainly have to go by sea to get to Sopan. With a major naval power like the city-state of Oden a part of the ‘Alliance,’ they’re probably going to open their war effort with a blockade of Sviedan ports. Largo has the only fleet large enough to break a blockade on this side of Mar’Tok. A courier might be able to risk trying to get to sea before they get into position, but in my case it would be too reckless – they’ll be looking for me.”

“Well, be careful,” Brode said, joining the other two. “You’ll have to travel across the entire kingdom of Svieda to get to either Largo or Sopan, and your Sword and armor will draw a lot of attention. We can’t spare you any soldiers for an escort. We aren’t taking escorts, ourselves, though we don’t have nearly as far to travel.”

Maelgyn nodded. “I know. I’ll pick up a disguise in the post house. My face is not too well known outside of the Royal Province, so I should be able to move about with relative anonymity.”

Brode looked doubtful, but held back any arguments he might have had. “Well, then, off we go.”

The trio rode out, driving their horses mercilessly. Each bore a grim face. It was the first time that Brode and Arnach had the chance to reflect on their father’s death, and Maelgyn likewise knew he would probably never see his own father again. If the loss of their fathers was not enough to drive them all into fits of depression, they knew their chances in the coming war were grim at best. Sycanth was literally the gold mine of the nation, and without it the funds to raise an army would be hard to come by. Sopan would pretty much have to bankroll the war effort on its own, and there was no land route between Sopan and the rest of Svieda. More importantly, an army from Sho’Curlas would be sweeping through the royal province and probably the neighboring areas before anyone could muster a defense or a counterstrike.

The three young men arrived at the post station even faster than Arnach had estimated, and quickly dismounted their horses to run inside. Brode took charge, barking orders and demanding that letters be sent at once informing the other Swords of the situation. Arnach started dictating what each letter would say as various people inside the facility scurried about as they were directed.

Maelgyn, however, went about his business quietly, sitting down with a piece of paper to compose his own letter. He had a hard time deciding what to say – after all, using a letter to tell
his people
that they were at war seemed much too cold and impersonal. He should be there and tell them in person, but he knew it was unlikely he would arrive in Sopan as fast as the courier – not if he wanted to keep his passage secret. When he finally managed to put pen to paper, he wrote:

To Duke Valfarn, Regent of the Province of Sopan

I have just come from Svieda Castle, and the news is grave. The King has been assassinated by agents of the Sho’Curlas Alliance, and an invasion force may have already swept through Sycanth. Sopan, like all the provinces of Svieda, must prepare herself for invasion. The Law of Swords will soon be in effect.

Prepare our seaward defenses, but also look out for opportunistic attacks from the Imperial Republic of Oregal or one of the neighboring border-states. I do not yet know by which route I will take to Sopan Province at this time, but rest assured I will make all haste.”

By my hand and signet,

Sword Prince Maelgyn, Duke of Sopan.

Maelgyn considered the letter for a moment. He wanted to say more, to describe exactly what he wanted done and how to do it. To describe the different routes he might take to get there. To explain why he was not arriving with this letter. Sighing, he folded it up and, using sealing wax and the Ducal signet ring of Sopan Province, marked it as his own. He couldn’t afford to mention any of those things for the very reason he had to send this letter instead of going, himself – there was too much risk of the courier ship being captured and the letter falling into the wrong hands. Addressing the envelope to Regent Valfarn, he nodded and handed it to a waiting postman.

He went over to his cousins, waiting until they noticed him.

“Maelgyn?” Brode asked, acknowledging his presence. Arnach also stopped to look.

“You two have everything taken care of, here, and I just sent off my letter. I must leave quickly.”

“What about your disguise?” Arnach asked, gesturing to his fairly obvious sword and dragonhide armor.

“Good point,” Maelgyn hesitated. He’d actually forgotten about that part of the plan, but glancing around gave him inspiration. All of the couriers wore the identifying uniform of an oilskin riding cloak when on duty, but several of them who lived outside of the station wore heavier cloaks for travel. Spying several cloaks hanging on wall pegs he said, “I’ll buy one of those off of a postman. That should be enough to hide what I’m wearing.”

“Aye, if you’re careful,” Brode agreed doubtfully. “I can’t really think of anything better, anyway. I guess there’s nothing left but to wish you Godspeed, cousin.”

Maelgyn clasped arms with both his cousins, and then he went to talk to one of the couriers about buying said cloak. Deal quickly made, he was off.

He was heading out alone, to the province he officially ruled, for the first time. He was fairly certain the war would still be going on when he arrived, but not so certain it would still be winnable.
Not exactly the most auspicious way of assuming lordship over a land, now is it?
He thought to himself bitterly.