Prince of the Blood (53 page)

Borric now wore his own clothing, from among those bags not stolen by the raiders in the desert. His hair was its own natural color, with blond tips, the dye having been washed out with some foul-smelling lotion that Nakor provided. James looked from one twin to the other. The difference between the two of them was noticeable. Borric was thinner than Erland, the combination of difficult travel and meager food having given him a harder look, a more weathered and tougher face.

James considered how much the boys had changed since leaving Krondor. Both had proven themselves worthy heirs of a great family name, and he had said more than one prayer of thanks to the gods for delivering Borric unharmed.

At the Empress’s order, the three prisoners were half-walked, half-dragged into the chamber. It was clear that all three had spent the last few hours with the Imperial interrogators, for their faces were distorted with bruises and cuts, and their bodies were covered in burns and lacerations. Toren Sie could barely walk and sobbed uncontrollably.

General Beruck’s defiance had been reduced to sullen resignation, and he staggered a little as he walked.

Lord Nirome, though, was almost defiant, glaring at the Empress through two puffy eyes. Dried blood caked his face and despite numerous artifacts of his interrogation, he walked into the throne room under his own power.

The mood in the gallery was subdued, for at this point no lord or master could be certain if the man sitting next to him was loyal or a traitor. The Imperial Inquisitor entered the hall. He bowed and the Empress waved him to approach. He mounted the dais and leaned over, whispering in her ear.

She nodded and he retreated. Looking around the room, she said, “My Lords and Masters. These three are guilty of treason. They have implicated others. Those of you in this hall who know of your guilt, I give you two choices. You may retire now, make your good-byes to your families, and with whatever dignity you can manage, you may take your own lives by midday. I will seize all but that which your wives and children can carry from their homes by sundown.

“If you do not admit your complicity, I will have you in a cage on the city wall by sundown. And then I will have killed every member of your family—your mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, your children, your grandchildren, to a baby in the womb. None will be spared. Those are your choices.”

Nearly two dozen men slowly rose and started to depart the hall. Borric glanced at Erland and his brother took his meaning.

Through Gamina, James’s thought came to the twins.
Harsh justice, but how else can she prevail and keep this Empire together?

Borric said nothing, but Erland replied,
I will never envy her the burden
.

A commotion from the entrance to the hall presaged the arrival of more soldiers. From the door came a cry,
“Mother!” Prince Awari entered, with a dozen officers of the army at his back, including Lords Ravi and Jaka. Coming to stand before the throne, he bowed, then said, “What is this terrible news about Sojiana?”

The Empress studied her son’s face a moment, then said, “We are about to determine just that. Stay and be quiet a while. This concerns your future, as well.”

To the court, the Empress said, “We have been informed by our inquisitor that confessions have been made, in part, and we have some mysteries as well to unravel.”

She leaned forward. “General Beruck.”

The still-defiant soldier glared at the Empress but said nothing.

“Your ambitions in this remain unclear, for it has been claimed you worked on behalf of my son.” At that, Prince Awari’s face drained of color, and he began to say something, but a narrow glance from his mother kept him silent. “It has also been suggested you may have worked toward your own ends, to force a marriage with my granddaughter as means to claim the throne for yourself. Do you care to shed light on these conflicting accusations?”

Despite his injuries and being barely able to stand upright, the General managed a croaking laugh. “To what ends?”

The Empress sighed. “You’re a hound, Beruck. You were once a good dog for the Empire, before jealousy or envy or ambition switched your allegiance. You’re right; it doesn’t matter if you served yourself or my son in some misguided dream of a stronger Empire. The fact is, either way you broke oath.” She seemed to truly regret her next words. “But oath breaker you are, and you must die.” To the guards who held him she said, “Take him hence to the execution yard and remove his head from his shoulders. Place it upon a stake at the main gate of the city, and
place below it a sign, proclaiming ‘Behold the head of a traitor!’ ”

The guards quickly removed the General.

The Empress glanced at the barely conscious Toren Sie, then at Lord Nirome. Finally she asked, “Nephew, what have you to say?”

The stout courtier said, “Mother To Us All—”

“Please,” interrupted the Empress, “I despise that title most.” Her gaze lingered a moment on the door where the General had been removed, then her gaze drifted to the heavens for a moment. “Especially now.”

Gamina said to James, Erland, and Borric,
She’s thinking of her daughter
.

Through puffy lips caked with dried blood, Nirome still managed to sound vigorous. “Most Majestic Ruler, have mercy. I did but what I thought was best for the Empire, which was to bring your son to primacy. But it was never my wish to see anyone harmed. The attempts upon Prince Borric were but a ruse, to keep the Islemen from reaching the city. We only wished to keep Sojiana’s followers’ attention to the north—which is why we falsified the reports of the Isles’ gathering to invade. But the murder of your daughter was none of my doing! It was Awari who sought to remove his rival.”

Prince Awari could not contain his outrage. “You lying dog!”

“Enough,” said the Empress quietly, and that simple word stopped her son.

He looked at his mother and seemed on the verge of saying something else, then relented and bowed. “I beg the forgiveness of She Who Is Kesh.”

With bitterness, the Empress said, “As will many before this day is done, I fear.”

To Nirome she said, “We have accusations and claims, yet the truth remains unclear. Nephew, you are either the
biggest fool to have claims upon our blood or the most gifted liar in the Empire’s history. Which is it?”

“On my family’s blood, Majesty, it is as I claimed.”

The Empress looked at Prince Erland. “Your Highness, I believe you have an opinion on this?”

Erland bowed. “Majesty, our missing friend Baron Locklear has been accused of having murdered your daughter. For those of us who know him, this is impossible. But even if some madness or evil sorcery forced him to such a deed, he could not have been the man who slew your daughter.”

“Why?” asked the Empress.

“Baron Locklear’s not the kind of man who would harm a woman, even if he had cause, save to defend himself. But look, even if something …” Erland fumbled for words. “Even if something caused him to act … unlike himself … he wouldn’t have broken Sojiana’s neck. He’s a master with the blade, and he’d have used his sword or dagger. He’s a skilled fighting man but lacks the brute strength to break the neck of someone who’s resisting. The Princess was not a petite woman. And if she’s like her daughter, there’s strength under that soft skin.”

The Empress nodded. “Sojiana was stronger than she looked. All the women on my side of the family are like that. We look soft, but we’re not.” She was quiet for a moment, then said, “But if Locklear didn’t kill her, who did?”

Erland said, “Those two answers are the same, I fear. And if I’m correct about what has happened, then Locklear is in danger … if he isn’t already dead.” He looked around the room, then said, “The man who stilled the heart of the Princess Sojiana had the hands of an ironmonger or smith. Someone powerful enough to break walnuts with his bare hands.” From the reaction of the gallery, it was clear that Erland wasn’t the only one to have seen the portly man crush a walnut with his bare hands.

Nirome’s voice was defiant. “This proves nothing!”

A guard Captain in the armor of the Household Guards hurried into the room and whispered into the ear of the Master of Ceremonies. He, in turn, made a gesture requesting permission to approach the Empress. She gave permission and he hurried up the dais.

When he was finished passing on the Captain’s report, the Empress sat back. “Well, then, there you have it. We have reports now that two companies of the Legionaries are still barricaded in one wing of the palace, in open defiance of orders to put down their arms, and throughout the city armed companies of men are moving.

“Now,” she said, rising from her throne, “we are faced with continued rebellion in our own city! The Imperial Seal of Peace is upon the city, and the man who draws sword first, or whose retainer draws sword first, that man be he baseborn or most noble lord, is under death sentence. Do I make myself clear?” The last was directed at Lord Ravi and General Aber Bukar, who stood motionless.

The Empress sat again and said, “Again I am faced with betrayal and disloyalty, but have no means of discerning the truth.” Finally, as if giving in to the inevitable, she said, “Perhaps the truth will never be fully revealed.” She looked at her son as she spoke.

Prince Awari went livid at that point and had his hand on his sword hilt before Lord Jaka put a restraining hand upon him.

Nakor stepped away from James’s party and said, “Empress, may I speak?”

Lakeisha said, “For the return of the falcon alone you have my ear, Isalani. For those other services you’ve done, you’ve earned more. What have you to say?”

“The why of things is often unimportant. The thing itself is important. This fat lord betrayed a trust, and if you must know why, I can help.”

“How?”

Grinning, Nakor said to Ghuda, “Bring the fat lord out here, before the dais.” As the mercenary did so, Nakor put his rucksack on the ground and began rummaging in it. After a moment of searching, he said, “Ah!” and pulled something out.

All near to him reflexively stepped back, for in his hands he held a cobra of stunning beauty and impossible proportions. The snake was easily six feet in length and as thick as a man’s forearm. The back scales were the gold of beaten metal, and the inside of the hood and throat were the green of the darkest and most vivid emerald. Eyes like fire opals, blue-black with red flame dancing in them regarded the crowd, which muttered with astonishment. A bloodred tongue flicked in and out of its mouth. Then it opened its mouth with a loud and ominous hiss, revealing two terrible-looking fangs of ivory. It writhed and hissed again as Nakor set it down on the floor in front of Nirome. The courtier shrank back against the steps of the dais as Nakor said, “This is the Truth Snake of Sha-shu. To lie before him is to embrace death.” With a cheery note to Nirome, he added, “It’s very painful.”

The serpent slithered to Nirome’s feet, then raised itself up, so that it appeared to look the stout trueblood lord in the eyes. The broad hood flared out and silver sparkles danced on its golden back.

Nakor said, “The snake will not strike so long as you speak truth. One falsehood and you die. There is no warning. It is infallible.”

Nirome could barely move, he was so mesmerized by the swaying serpent that rose up before him. Then when it was but a foot away, he said, “Painful or not, this death will come faster than what she has in store for me, I am certain.”

Nakor shrugged. “Perhaps, but time is a funny thing when you’re lying in agony. I have heard that this creature can make minutes seem like days. Still, the choice is
yours.” Then he approached the noble and said, “Tell the truth. You’re to die anyway. Lims-Kragma may place you a tiny bit higher on the Wheel of Life when it comes around again if you make amends.”

Nirome glared at Nakor. Nakor shrugged. “It was just a suggestion.”

The cobra moved, swaying back and forth in rhythmic fashion, from left to right, then back to the left. Nirome stared at it, and the cobra flared its hood, hissing loudly and drawing back as if to strike.

On and on it held the nobleman’s gaze, and after a few minutes, everyone could see Nirome’s eyes grow hooded, as if becoming entranced by the serpent. Finally Nirome said, “Enough.” His voice was exhausted, and the strength seemed to be flowing out of him. “I planned this from the beginning.”

Several members of the Gallery spoke in hushed whispers. The Empress said, “What was Awari’s part in this?”

His expression turned to bitter amusement as Nirome turned to face his Empress. “Awari is a strutting peacock and a fool. He thought I was but seeking to bolster his claim. I was going to place blame upon Awari for Sojiana’s death, or at least cast enough suspicion that no one would accept him as heir to the throne.”

“So,” said the Empress sitting back in her throne, “you would put Sharana in my place. But why?”

Nirome said, “Because Ravi and his allies would never accept another Empress. The southern nations are ready to rebel once more and with the Brothers of the Horse holding the pass through the Girdle of Kesh, Lesser Kesh would be lost for all times. And Lord Jaka and the other truebloods would never accept a nontrueblood consort. So there was only one solution.”

Lakeisha was silent a moment, then she nodded. “Obviously. Marry Sharana to one who is heir. Make her husband Emperor upon my death.” She sighed. “And
who better but the Great Conciliator, Lord Nirome? The only member of the Gallery without enemies? The one man able to speak to trueblood and nontrueblood alike?”

The Empress covered her face with her hands, and for a moment it appeared as if she might be weeping. When she at last removed her hands, her eyes were indeed red-rimmed, but no sign of tears could be seen. “How have we come to this, that our best minds plot for their own aggrandizement, and not for the well-being of the Empire.” She sighed loudly and said, “My lord Ravi, would this plan have worked?”

The Master of the Brothers of the Horse bowed. “Mistress, I fear the traitor was correct. Until this evening, we believed the Prince, your son, to have been the one responsible for Sojiana’s death. We would not have accepted Sharana as our mistress, but we would not have allowed one who has spilled royal blood to command us. Nirome would have been the logical compromise.”