Sovereign (24 page)

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Authors: Simon Brown

Tags: #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction, #Action & Adventure

BOOK: Sovereign
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Bored.

He hoped Areava would come soon. God, he hoped
anyone
would come soon. There were two guards outside, but they would not talk to him. They would not even
look
at him. He must have been in a lot of trouble.

What had he done?

He tried to remember, but a part of his memory was blocked off from him. He could sense there was something there for him, but he did not know how to reach it, and every time he tried it was like slipping on a wet stone—he just ended up somewhere else with a headache.

He heard footsteps outside his room and heard the guards snap to attention. That meant it was Areava. No one snapped to attention for Edaytor. The door opened and his sister came in, followed by the prelate. As she always did, she looked Olio up and down.

'Get off the sash, Olio,' she commanded, but her voice was gentle.

Olio obediently jumped off and stood before Areava. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He thought she looked very pale and drawn. She looked older than he remembered.

'You've come to tell me about Lynan, haven't you?'

His sister blanched, but nodded.

'Is Mother going to outlaw me, too? I've tried to remember what I've done wrong, but I can't think of anything
that
bad. Don't be angry with me.'

He saw a tear in Areava's eye before she bowed her head so he could not see her face. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and looked up again. Olio thought she had the most beautiful eyes, like blue sapphires. The thought puzzled him.
What's a sapphire
?

She held up two amulets that hung from chains around her neck. 'Do you know what these are?'

He studied them closely. 'Pretty,' he admitted.

'You don't recognise them?'

'No.'

'Describe them for me,' Edaytor said.

Olio glanced at Areava and she nodded encouragingly.

'There's one with a stick on it. And there's one with a heart.'

'Do you know what the stick is?' Edaytor prodded.

'No.'

'It's a sceptre,' Areava told him. 'Only rulers have sceptres.'

'Then why do you have one?' he asked.

'Why do you think?'

Olio shrugged, blew air out of his mouth. 'Can we play something else now?'

'Why do you think I'm wearing a sceptre?' Areava persisted.

'Because you're a ruler, of course,' he said, and laughed to show he knew it was a joke. But neither Areava nor Edaytor laughed, so he stopped, feeling a little foolish.

'That's right,' Areava said solemnly.

'Does Mumma know you've got a sceptre?' His eyes widened suddenly. 'That is Mumma's sceptre. She is queen and should have it.'

'I am queen.'

Olio looked at his sister. For the briefest of moments her words made absolute sense. He shook his head to clear it; he understood what a ridiculous thing she had said, but a part of him absolutely believed it.

'This is the Key of the Sceptre, or the Ruler's Key,' Areava continued. 'It is one of the Keys of Power.'

'No!' Olio cried. 'Only Mumma has the Keys of Power. No one else can wear them!'

'That was true while our mother was alive. Just before she died she gave each of us one of the Keys.'

Olio blinked rapidly. 'Mumma's not dead. I don't believe you. She would have told me…'

'She gave you this Key,' Areava said, holding up the Key of the Heart.

'No,' he said.

'Let him touch it,' Edaytor told Areava.

She held it out to Olio, but he backed away from it. He ran into a wall and could go no further. 'Hold the Key,' she said.

He shook his head.

Areava took off the chain holding the Key and held it out to him. 'This is yours. I took it away from you. That was wrong. I am sorry. I want you to have it back now.'

'It was mine?'

'Don't you remember?'

Olio groaned. 'Sometimes. I think I've seen it before.'

'Do you remember what it feels like to wear it?' Edaytor asked.

Olio shook his head again. 'No.' Then, in a much deeper voice. 'Yes. My Key.'

'Give it to him now!' Edaytor hissed to Areava.

She slipped the chain around her brother's neck and stepped back.

The first thing Olio felt was that the Key fell against his chest in the same way a proper key fitted the right lock. It was where it should be. But almost immediately the thought was squeezed out of him as if a giant hand had suddenly gripped his brain. He shouted out, not in pain but surprise. He closed his eyes, and burned in the back of his lids was the vision of a terrible blue river, startlingly bright, searingly hot. He heard a word repeated over and over and he chased it down with his mind until he heard it loud and clear. 'No!'

And he screamed the word out loud and collapsed to the floor before either Areava or Edaytor could catch him.

CHAPTER 15

 

The Horse Clan warriors gathered in front of Daavis's rebuilt main gate. Eynon, standing beneath the gate itself, gazed on them with immense pride, the sentiment matched only by his immense sadness there were so few. Except for another two hundred or so warriors too seriously wounded to ride back to the Oceans of Grass, the four troops before him were the entire strength of what had once been one of the Chett's largest and most powerful clans.

And it will be again
, Eynon told himself, as he had again and again during the terrible siege of Daavis. He heard the rumble of more horses behind him and turned to see Lynan and Makon riding ahead of several hundred more cavalry. The two men stopped by Eynon and let the force ride by. Eynon counted three troops of lancers and three of the Red Hands.

'I promised them to you,' Lynan said. 'You may keep them under your command for as long as you need them.'

'Thank you, your Majesty,' Eynon said gratefully. 'It won't take long to hunt down the Saranah war band. You'll have your warriors back by winter.'

'There is no hurry, Eynon,' Lynan answered. 'I was thinking you might want to do more than hunt down the war band.' He and Makon shared a secret smile. Eynon was not sure he liked that.

'Meaning?'

'Meaning that if you feel the urge I see no reason for you to stop at the edge of the Oceans of Grass.'

'You mean carry on to Saranah territory?' Lynan nodded, and Eynon already liked the idea. 'To do as I wish?'

'Completely. I remember I also promised to replace every head of cattle you lost. I will, but cannot do it before winter when the clans gather at the High Sooq, In the meantime, you might as well wreak a proper revenge.'

'You are returning to the High Sooq this winter?' Eynon could not hide his surprise.

'No. There is the rest of the Kingdom to win before I return to the Oceans of Grass.'

'Then who will carry your authority at the High Sooq?' Eynon asked,

'You will.'

'Your Majesty—' Eynon blurted.

Lynan and Makon laughed together. 'I told you he would choke on it,' Makon said.

'But what does Korigan say?'

'She is in agreement,' Lynan told him. 'She watched your clan four times assault the west wall of Daavis. She holds no doubts about you or your loyalty to my cause.'

'She even agreed to let me go again,' Makon added.

'Let you go?' Eynon asked.

'Makon knows the Red Hands,' Lynan answered for him. 'He has commanded them in his brother Gudon's absence and has proven himself in combat. Use him as one of your commanders. He can also vouch for your authority at the High Sooq. If those clans traditionally antagonistic to you doubt your word, Makon, being from Korigan's clan, will convince them quickly enough.'

Eynon could not help grinning. 'I would be happy to have Makon ride with me again.' By now the extra six troops had lined up behind Eynon's own. One thousand experienced warriors.
With these
, Eynon thought,
I can carry the war far south indeed
.

'Remember, you can take whatever action against the Saranah you deem fit.'

Eynon looked up sharply at Lynan. It was almost as if the prince had read his mind. 'The Saranah will wish they had never left their desert,' he said.

 

Jenrosa watched Eynon lead his combined force northwest from Daavis. They rode at an easy trot, confident and determined. Casually, almost absently, she licked the tip of one finger and used it to draw a line along the top of the stone parapet in front of her. She breathed softly over it. The only particles to move were made of red quartz. They scattered across the line, but almost immediately a soft breeze blew the other way sending the crystals back again. She was not surprised, but which of her imaginings did it fit? That was something no teacher could show you. One of her first instructors in the Theurgia of Stars had told her that the interpretation of magik was often no more than a test of someone's ability to fit the facts after the event; in other words, prescience was a matter for the gullible. She wanted to believe that, but she could not shake off what she had seen since joining the Chetts and taking instruction under Lasthear.

What Jenrosa did not know, and was afraid to discover, was whether or not her understanding of what her magik showed was the future, fixed and unchangeable, or a future that could be averted—or aimed for—through certain actions. The problem being that the latter seemed too much like prescience for the gullible.

She saw Lynan walking back to the palace. As he passed near her he paused but did not look up.
He can feel me watching him
, she told herself.
We are connected so strongly. A
moment later he continued on his way. She observed Chetts bow as he walked by them. She observed the locals bow even lower to avert their eyes from his, the children scampering behind the nearest adult. Lynan, obviously deep in his own thoughts, ignored them all. After Daamis had been taken there had been some looting, but Lynan had quickly stopped it and made sure only soldiers who resisted the occupation were killed. So far as conquerors went Lynan seemed less cruel and more lenient than many others in history. Nonetheless, the citizens of Daamis avoided him when they could; Lynan's appearance and reputation were enough to scare people.

'What are you now?' she wondered aloud. It occurred to her there was an even more important question.
What am I now
?

She knew she had no answers. For all her power at magik it was a hollow thing, nothing more than a conduit for more mystery and frustration than she would ever have believed possible as a bored student in Kendra all those years ago.

Wait
, she told herself.
Not years ago. Only a year ago
.

'You are thinking of home,' said Ager's voice.

She looked to her left. God, for a crookback he could move quietly when he wanted to.

'You think you are so wise,' she jibed.

'I can tell,' he said, ignoring her, 'because of the look on your face. Whenever you think of home your eyes lose focus and you face towards Kendra. I know a few merchants who would pay a small fortune to have you as navigator on one of their ships. They would always know which direction to travel to reach Kestrel Bay.'

She smiled despite herself. 'You still call Kendra home.'

'Strange, isn't it? I wasn't born or raised there, and I've spent most of my life living somewhere else, but yes, Kendra is the place I always thought of as my home. Maybe it is for anyone who thinks of themselves as belonging to Grenda Lear.' Ager frowned then. 'I don't know that I do any more, not really.'

'It's the Oceans of Grass for you?' Areava asked.

'Perhaps.'

'Morfast is a very beautiful woman,' Jenrosa observed.

Ager grunted, smiled to himself.

'And the Ocean Clan is a noble one.'

'That is my home now, I think.'

'The clan?'

He nodded. 'And what about Jenrosa Alucar? Where is her home these days? With the Chetts? Or do you still pine for the dusty halls of the theurgia?'

'I don't have a home any more,' she said shortly, trying to end the conversation.

'The Truespeaker will always have a home,' Ager countered.

Jenrosa gritted her teeth. 'I hoped you of all people would never call me that.'

'Ah,' Ager sighed. 'So that's the problem.'

'It's not a problem!' Jenrosa spat. 'It's a delusion on the part of Lasthear and others who are so desperate for a new Truespeaker they are willing to see ability where there is none.'

'That's a lie and you know it,' Ager replied sharply. 'Lasthear is no fool, and nor are the other Chett magikers who talk about you the same way the rest of the Chett people talk about Lynan.'

'I don't have to listen to this—'

Ager grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. 'You are behaving like Lynan at the beginning of our exile. You have responsibilities you don't want to face, are afraid to shoulder. That's fine, I understand how you feel. But none of us has an excuse to behave like that any more. Whether we like it or not the entire Chett nation has given itself into our hands. Lynan is their king—even Korigan accepts that—and he has grown to recognise it. I am clan chief, something I have grown to recognise. You are the Truespeake. It is time you grew to recognise that.'

Jenrosa pulled out of his grip. 'And Kumul? What was he meant to be before he was slaughtered?'

Ager shook his head. 'That isn't fair. You were his lover, but Lynan and I loved him as well.'

Jenrosa closed her eyes in shame. 'I'm sorry…'

'Hasn't it occurred to you that we four were meant to leave Kendra together when we did? That fate or God or whatever it is that rules our lives had a purpose for us? Lynan will be king of Grenda Lear, of that I have no doubt now. I, who belong to the ocean, rule a clan named after it. You, a student magiker who never fitted in with the theurgia, discover you are perhaps the most powerful magiker of all. And Kumul… Kumul was our hero and sacrifice. He will be remembered by the Chetts for longer than you or I. Every time a Chett whispers the name of Lynan Rosetheme, the White Wolf, they will also whisper the name of the Giant, Kumul Alarn. His life was the price he paid for that destiny. He had no more say in it than we have in ours.'

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