Shadow Magic (31 page)

“I suppose you’re right,” Alethia said slowly. “I couldn’t hide the Gifts again; they are too dangerous to risk someone like the Lithmern finding them by accident. And I couldn’t just pretend to rule, because the Shee and the Wyrds won’t stand for the First Lords.”

Isme nodded. “You see? You seem to know all kinds of things you do not wish to do. I want to know what you
do
wish to do.”

“I want,” Alethia began, and stopped. She was silent for a long time, then finally she looked up. “I want to learn more about the Gifts. I know a little already, but I don’t think anyone really understands them. And I’d like to learn more magic, and more about firestones. I don’t think anyone really understands them, either.”

“And if you do not wear the Crown, how can you study it?” Isme asked. “Do you think the nobles will let you near the Gifts if you once give them up?”

“That’s true,” Alethia said thoughtfully. “But even if I’m queen, they can—” She stopped again, and her eyes narrowed. “No, they can’t! I would be queen, not regent; the First Lords couldn’t overrule me as they do him. Not unless I let them.”

“When you come to them with your Crown and your Gifts, seeking fealty,” Isme said, “they will see only a young and pretty woman—inexperienced, and easily manipulated. But when you are their queen, they may learn otherwise. There is much good you can do for Alkyra, daughter.”

Before Alethia could reply, they heard a flurry of sound and Har burst into the tent. “Mother!” he said, sweeping Isme into his embrace. “I heard you were here.”

“Alethia and I have had matters to discuss,” Isme said, smiling at her son. “And I’m sure you have a question or two on your mind as well.”

Har nodded. “It’s not everyday you wake up and find that you’re not quite human.”

“Yes, Mother,” Alethia said. “Why did you never tell us?”

“There is very little to tell,” Isme replied. “I was Keeper of the Western Ward when I was about your age, Alethia. Your father and his brother Reidon were ambushed during a counter-raid into Lithra. Reidon was killed, and your father sorely wounded. When he rode into the Kathkari Mountains to shake off the Lithmern, he stumbled across my cottage.” Isme smiled reminiscently. “Literally stumbled; he couldn’t see through the Veil spell that guards the Wards, so he fell down the stairs into my garden.”

“And you took care of him and then married him?” Alethia said. “It sounds like one of Tamsin’s songs!”

“That is probably the way the minstrels will sing of it in a hundred years, but it was not so simple then. He stayed until he was healed, and I helped him slip by the Lithmern, but I did not go with him then. Once or twice in the next year, when he could get away from Brenn, he came back to see me. But he did not speak of marriage until the following summer, when he had become more accustomed to being Lord of Brenn in his brother’s place. By then I was ready to listen—though I knew what it would mean.”

“The covenant of exile,” Alethia said.

“Not merely exile, but a pledge never to speak of Eveleth or the Shee, and never to use magic openly.” Isme’s smile held a trace of irony and bitter memory. “The Shee were worried about the consequences, should anyone outside the mountains learn they existed.”

Har grinned. “Well, there certainly have been a lot of consequences! Did you have to promise not to tell us, too? It might have made things a little easier, if we’d known.”

Isme said, “There was no need, and by the time you were old enough to tell, it did not seem very important any more.”

“Not important!” Alethia said. “But, Mother—”

“Your lives were in Brenn; so was mine. There was no reason to think the knowledge would make any difference, except perhaps to make you curious about your heritage. Under the circumstances, that would not have been particularly… wise.”

Alethia laughed. “I suppose not. The Shee didn’t seem too anxious to have us in Eveleth even when we had a good reason for being there; I can just imagine how they’d have behaved if we’d come out of curiosity.”

“I can’t,” Har said. “And I don’t want to. But I have a few more questions.”

“About the Shee?” Alethia said.

“No, about Brenn. The last I heard, there were still four or five nobles and First Lord Stethan who hadn’t answered our request for troops, and I want to know whether any of them ever did.”

The talk turned to affairs in Brenn. Alethia was glad of the change in the conversation; she wanted more time to think over some of the things her mother had said.

She had more time to ponder than she expected; the journey back to Brenn took six days. The trip itself was uneventful, but as they neared the edge of the forest the scouts brought back disturbing news of a great army of Alkyrans camped around Brenn.

As soon as the news arrived, Bracor sent messengers to Brenn to discover what had occurred. Alethia, accompanied by Murn and Har, insisted on riding to the edge of the forest with them to see Brenn for herself.

The group returned before the messengers, much excited. “The fields are full of nobles,” Alethia informed her father as she dismounted. “All of the banners of the Nine Families are there, even Thielen’s and Gahlon’s.”

“The Regent is there, too,” Har said. “You can see his banners right in front of the East Gates.”

“I could wish they had moved against the Lithmern as promptly,” Bracor said. He turned to one of the guards who had accompanied Alethia. “Go tell Lord Herre, the Lady Murn, Lord Vander and First Lord Gahlon what you have seen, and ask them to come to us.”

By the time the messengers returned, all of the leaders of the various parts of the mixed army had arrived in response to Bracor’s summons. The first of the messengers bowed to them all, then handed Bracor a sealed note. Bracor opened it and began to read. “What does it say?” Har burst out.

“I am summoned by the First Lords this evening to answer charges of treason,” Bracor answered without surprise. He handed the paper to Gahlon with a grimace.

“Treason is a serious matter,” Lord Vander said worriedly.

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you fear,” Gahlon said, looking up from the note. “Not all of the First Lords support this charge; there are only four seals on this letter.”

“First Lord Thielen can’t support it,” Alethia said. “If he did, he would be guilty too; his men were at Coldwell with us.”

“Having two First Lords involved will only make the charge more serious.” Bracor shook his head. “I expected this to happen—but not so soon.”

“What difference does it make?” Har said impatiently. “Alethia is going to be queen, and you haven’t committed any treason against her.”

The Shee commander laughed. “I think this will be an interesting meeting! I hope you will not mind if I come with you, Lord Bracor?”

“We still have to convince the Conclave of First Lords that Alethia should rule Alkyra,” Gahlon said to Har. “I don’t think that will be easy.”

“Let one of them try on the Crown,” Har suggested nastily. “That should settle things in a hurry.”

“No!” said Alethia. “How can you joke about such a thing?” She remembered raw power coursing through the ornamental metal and shivered.

“Are you certain that this is the best time to tell them about the Gifts?” Lord Vander asked a little nervously.

“I must tell them sometime,” Alethia said. “I would rather get it over with now. And they are conveniently on our doorstep.”

“I think we should all go to meet with the First Lords tonight,” Murn said. “They will find it more difficult to deny your right to the throne if they realize that the Wyrds, the Shee, and the Neira have already accepted you.”

Gahlon chuckled softly. “I would not miss this meeting if you offered me the Crown itself. The First Lords are going to be very annoyed.”

“Will you wear the Crown?” Har asked Alethia.

“No,” said Alethia, thinking again of that raw power. “Not until I must.”

“You should take it with you, though,” Gahlon said quickly. “And the Gifts as well. We will need them to convince the lords that you are truly meant to be queen.”

Vander frowned. “Is it wise to risk treasures of such value? The Lords could simply seize them all.”

“No they can’t,” Alethia said in a quiet voice. “They cannot possibly take the Gifts away from me.” Vander gave her a startled look, and on that note, the conference ended.

They left camp early that evening. Murn, Maurin, Jordet, and Larissalama each carried one of the Four Gifts muffled under their cloaks; Alethia herself held the Crown. There was an air of great tension about the group. No one spoke.

They were met halfway to the city by nine guards, each wearing the badge of a different First Lord. The men seemed uneasy about their duty, and cast frequent glances at Murn, Herre, Jordet, and Larissalama as they rode toward the large tent where the First Lords and the Regent waited.

As she entered the tent, Alethia saw a long table. Eight of the nine First Lords were seated along one side of it, with the Regent behind them. The ninth chair, Gahlon’s seat, was empty, and one of the lords motioned Gahlon toward it.

“Thank you, Stethan, but I cannot take the seat you offer,” Gahlon said, bowing. “If Bracor is guilty of treason, then I am also, and I cannot join you.”

Alethia noticed Lord Thielen shift uncomfortably in his place midway around the table. She looked back at Gahlon, who smiled slightly as he took one of the seats on the same side of the table as Bracor and the rest of the party. Alethia suppressed an answering smile and seated herself beside her father, scanning the lords for any sign of support or sympathy.

The Regent cleared his throat officiously. “Lord Bracor, the charges against you are very grave. That is why we have come to you, instead of summoning you to the Conclave, as is the usual custom.”

“The charges are obviously justified,” a large blond man at the end of the table said. “Why, he has the effrontery to bring his demonic allies with him! What more proof do we need?”

“Peace, Orlin,” one of the others growled. “I know your views. There has been far too much talk of demons for my taste. Lord Bracor has the right to answer the charges, and I for one would hear what he has to say!”

“Yes,” said another. “I understand there are a large number of Lithmern prisoners with the army; if Lord Bracor was correct about the threat of invasion, I do not see that we can condemn his actions.”

“Just what are the charges, my lords?” Bracor asked, making himself heard above the din.

“You are charged with high treason, to wit, the making of a compact outside of Alkyra, without the consent of the Conclave of the First Lords or of the Regent of Alkyra, for the purpose of enhancing your own power to the detriment of the country of Alkyra,” the Regent said rapidly. “What will you answer?”

“Why, it is obvious that I cannot be guilty, my lord,” Bracor replied.

“How can you say so?” one of the First Lords shouted. “Your allies sit right next to you; how can you deny them?”

“? do not deny that the Wyrds, the Shee, and the Neira offered me an alliance, which I accepted,” Bracor said calmly. “But when Kirel founded Alkyra, he was made king by an alliance of all four of the races of Lyra, to rule over all. Therefore, I have not made a compact outside of Alkyra, and the charges are void.”

Several of the lords smiled in appreciation, but First Lord Stethan frowned. “Inside or outside Alkyra, it is all the same to me. What of the charge of enhancing your own might? Can you deny that you command the army that is camped out there in the forest?”

“But my father does not command the army,” Alethia said softly, before Bracor could reply. “I do.”

“I am afraid that Lord Bracor cannot escape through such an obvious legal fiction,” Lord Orlin sneered. “Putting his daughter in command of the army is hardly believable.”

“I do not command as his daughter, but in my own right,” Alethia said.

“Oh?” Stethan said in tones of polite disbelief. “And what right have you to command such an army without the consent of the Conclave? Perhaps we should charge you with treason as well.”

Some of the First Lords laughed. Alethia’s eyes narrowed, and she rose. “This is my right,” she said. She brought her hands from beneath her cloak, revealing the Crown of Alkyra.

A stunned silence fell within the tent. Alethia nodded once, and Murn, Maurin, Jordet, and Larissalama rose and stepped away from the table. With simultaneous movements, they swept the wrapping from the Four Gifts they carried. The silence deepened.

“I see you recognize these,” Alethia said. “They were given to Kirel to help him rule the four peoples. I have found them and brought them back to Alkyra, and I will use them as he did.”

“It’s a trick,” someone croaked.

“It is no trick,” Alethia said gently. Slowly, she raised the Crown and placed it upon her own head. It burst into scintillating fire. Alethia’s eyes swept the First Lords. “You know, as all Alkyra knows, what the Crown is and what it means,” she said. “Only I may wear it and live; if I open the flap of this tent and step outside, every man in your armies will kneel to me, so long as I wear it.”

“Every man in the army? No!” Heads turned as the Regent rose and stepped forward. No one spoke as he walked around the table toward Alethia; the First Lords were too astonished by the uncharacteristic note of decision in the Regent’s voice, and the others waited for some sign from Alethia. Alethia stood frozen, feeling the cold knowledge of failure. The Regent must be certain indeed of the reaction of the First Lords, or he would not risk being publicly overruled.

“No,” the Regent of Alkyra continued, “not every man in the army but
every man in Alkyra
shall kneel to you, and I shall be the first of them.” Tears glittered in his brown eyes. Suddenly he turned to the First Lords. “I have been Regent of this land for twenty years, and my father before me, and his father,” he said in a strong, clear voice. “I was sworn to hold the throne and rule the land until the Wearer of the Crown returned.” He turned back to Alethia and abruptly knelt before her. “Alethia Tel'anh, you wear Kirel’s Crown and you bear his coronation gifts. My oath is fulfilled.”

A murmur of surprise swept the tent, changing swiftly to consternation as the First Lords realized what had happened. No matter how badly diminished the powers of the Regent had become, he still held the right to give up his authority to the rightful ruler of Alkyra. The few who, in the stress of the sudden reappearance of the Crown, had remembered that authority had expected the Regent to abide by their decision; no one had expected him to voluntarily relinquish his position.