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Authors: William King

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BOOK: Born Of Darkness (Book 7)
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“And who are these two stalwart strangers?” Aemon asked.

“This is Sir Kormak, of the Order of the Dawn,” said Frater Jonas. “And this is Captain Rhiana, a valued servant of my order who worked on our behalf in the benighted precincts of Port Blood.”

Aemon steepled his fingers as if at prayer then placed them against his lips. He looked as if he was trying to recollect something important, smiled and said, “Rise my friends. There is no need to stand on ceremony. Be welcome in my house.”

He strode past Jonas, moving with the confidence of a man who knows that others will follow and listen. “You have returned from a great distance, I see, on the wings of a storm, as the first Solari did. Can I take that as a good omen?”

“We have succeeded in the mission assigned us,” Frater Jonas said.

“That is most welcome news,” said King Aemon. His pleasant tone did not waver even though the news concerned the death of a long-lost half-brother. “Of course, I expected nothing less from you. There are those who have tried to cast doubts on my certainty but it has never wavered.”

The King was not looking at Jonas but towards the Cathedral doors where his guard waited.

“My brother and I have complete faith in you,” Aemon added.

“We have brought tokens of success,” said Jonas, an ingratiating note in his voice. The priest leaned forward as if straining to hear the slightest word of the king.

“Your word is enough for me, old friend,” said Aemon. “Of course, my brother will demand proofs. You know how he is.”

Jonas said nothing, not wishing to utter a criticism of Prince Taran, even if all he was doing was agreeing with the King.

As they reached the doorway Kormak understood why. Among the soldiers stood a man garbed all in black. He bore a family resemblance to the King-Emperor but his features were bolder. His hair and beard were night black. His eyes were dark and magnetic. He looked more like a king than the king.

“And there is my dear brother now,” said Aemon.

The black-bearded man smiled, a predator revealing its fangs. “Frater Jonas. It is good to see you once more. Your preliminary dispatch indicated your mission was a success. I am so glad to hear it.”

His tone implied that any other result would be unacceptable.

Aemon turned and looked at them. “I must retreat to my chambers and meditate on what the Angel has told me,” he said. “Until we meet again, consider yourselves my most honoured guests. My brother will see that suitable accommodations are provided for you.”

“Yes, indeed, your majesty,” Prince Taran said. “Most suitable.”

The king placed his hands together, bowed his head and disappeared through a small door. They were alone with the prince and the soldiers of the Household Guard.

Kormak was all too aware that he had come to this place entrusted with a secret that many royal houses would kill to keep.

“His majesty seems well,” Frater Jonas said. The little priest was sweating.

Prince Taran showed his gleaming white teeth again. “His Majesty is very well. And seeing you has only made him happier. I can tell.”

He gestured for them to follow him. “In any case, we have much to discuss and this is not the place to do so.”

***

Weapons covered the walls of Taran’s chamber along with paintings of famous battle scenes. Suits of armour stood at attention in alcoves. A massive desk dominated the centre of the room. On the far side was an open window showing a view of the treasure fleet at rest in the harbour.

Prince Taran dismissed the soldiers with a wave of his hand, strode across the room and took a seat behind his desk. He looked them over and then smiled. This time there was a little warmth on his face.

“It is good to have you back, Jonas. You have been badly missed. We are surrounded by heretics and traitors. Rebels swarm the cities. Cultists haunt the night. Your skills would have been useful.”

The smile vanished and his eyes turned to look at Kormak then Zamara and finally at Rhiana. He seemed to realise he had been on the verge of saying something indiscrete in the presence of strangers.

“You have something for me, I believe, Sir Kormak,” he said. He stretched out his hand. Kormak produced a ruby seal ring from within his tunic, stepped forward and dropped it into the Prince’s hand. Taran squinted down at it. “It matches the catalogue description,” he said.

The ring had come from the Kraken’s own hand and it had once belonged to Taran’s father. “Its wearer is dead, of course,” he said.

“Yes,” said Kormak. “Very dead.”

“Then we owe you a great debt. It will be paid in full.”

Kormak’s eyes narrowed. He did not like the way this man talked, as if he was just one more thing that money could buy.

“Please make an offering to the local chapter house of the Order of the Dawn. To the full value of what you believe your debt to be.”

Taran looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time. He leaned forward on his fist and gazed up at Kormak. Small lines appeared on his forehead. His mouth thinned. He stared at the Guardian for a moment, then brought his fist up to cover his mouth. He gave a small laugh, as if Kormak had made a joke he appreciated and said, “It shall be as you desire.”

His glance flicked to Zamara. “And cousin, you have performed admirably. You seem to have lost three ships but at least you have replaced one of them.”

Zamara’s shoulders slumped. Having watched his victim squirm enough, Taran said, “We would have considered a dozen ships a small price to pay for the death of the Kraken. We are indebted to you too, cousin. His Majesty will show that gratitude soon enough.”

Zamara’s shoulders straightened. A smile came to his lips and he bowed.

Taran eyed Rhiana and licked his lips. “And you, milady. If I had known that Frater Jonas employed such beautiful agents, I would have paid more attention to his reports.”

He measured out his smile to let them know he was joking. Kormak imagined that Prince Taran paid minute attention to every report that crossed his desk.

Rhiana’s smile conveyed genuine amusement. “I was only a part-time agent. Now the Kraken is dead, I may be leaving service entirely.”

“We shall have to see what we can do to convince you otherwise.” Taran glanced out the window to check the position of the sun then picked up the small bell that sat on his desk and rang it. Liveried servants appeared moments later.

“You are all guests of His Majesty. Rooms have been prepared for you. You must remain with us until the King-Emperor can show his appreciation for your services.”

It was clear they were dismissed.

***

“Prince Taran is a shark,” said Rhiana, looking around the sitting room of her chambers. She fingered the rich brocade of the tapestry as if she were assessing its value as plunder. Then she threw the doors open to reveal a balcony covered in flowerpots filled with blossoms.

Frater Jonas gave a faint moue of disapproval then put his finger to his lips. He walked to the door, opened it, glanced out, closed it then moved over to the large couch and slumped down on it.

“What did he mean telling us we
must
remain until the King can show us his appreciation.”

“Exactly what he said, my dear.” Jonas’s voice was mild but contained a lecturing note. “Men like Prince Taran are used to getting their way. Never forget, you stand at the heart of the most powerful nation in the western world.”

“I have half a mind to go down to the harbour and find a ship,” Rhiana said. She glanced at Kormak.

“And doubtless you would find your way politely blocked until such a time as suits their highnesses.” Jonas picked up a decanter from the table and poured some wine. “I believe the Prince intends to do you a favour. And when a member of the House of Valasa shows his gratitude it is on an Imperial scale.”

Jonas looked at Kormak. “I do not think Prince Taran is used to being talked to as you talked to him.”

“I am not his subject or his servant,” Kormak said. “Nor am I his paid assassin.”

“That touched a nerve, did it?”

Kormak said nothing. Perhaps it did.

“Look, my friends, just remain here for a few days and try to be polite. It will make your lives much easier and by the Light of the Holy Sun you might even enjoy yourselves.”

Zamara nodded, albeit reluctantly. Kormak felt a little sorry for him. The captain did not like agreeing with the priest but he too did not want Kormak or Rhiana doing anything to embarrass him. He had risen far in the past hour.

“I’ll bid you farewell now,” Zamara said. “I must return to my ship and see that my crew are well. I will also make sure your goods are safely delivered to the Palace.”

Jonas bowed too and made for the door. “I recommend you try the wine. It’s really very good.”

***

“This is an odd place,” Rhiana said, once they were alone. She stood on the balcony looking down at the harbour. Kormak could see the treasure fleet at anchor down there. Other ships were came and went, leaving white wakes scrawled on the blue parchment of the sea.

“How so?” Kormak said.

“Come on! We have a king who talks to angels and a prince who looks like a shark. We’re confined to the palace. Everybody around us fawns and scrapes and bows to those two oh-so-important men.”

“We’re not in Port Blood anymore,” Kormak said.

“More’s the pity.”

“You don’t like it here?”

She shrugged and leaned forward to look down. Beneath them an elaborate rose-garden dominated the large courtyard. The scent drifted up. “It makes me uncomfortable. In Port Blood, the captains have power, but nothing like Aemon and his brother. You saw the way Zamara behaved and Jonas. They would have got down on the ground and licked Taran’s boots clean if he asked.”

Kormak said, “Those two have power. Real power. And they are not afraid to use it. The King’s favour could make Zamara rich. It could make Jonas the head of his order.”

“And what could it do for you? Aren’t you afraid that if you stay here, you’ll end up like all the others?”

“Are you?”

She gave him a sharp glance. “Maybe. This place makes me uneasy. It looks like a fortress. It looks like a palace. It’s full of rich, arrogant land dwellers.”

There was a thoughtful note in her voice. “And King Aemon frightens me,” she said. “He radiates power just like the Kraken did, only more so.”

Kormak thought about the way his elder sign had reacted in the presence of the King. “They say the Imperial Line has a gift for sorcery. The Blood of Emperors they call it. Aemon’s great grandfather Pelageus placed the sunstone back in the Tower of Light. When he ignited it with his own hands, all the world saw Siderea had been redeemed from the Old Ones and the Shadow. He was the greatest wizard of the age.”

Rhiana did not seem to be listening. “Aemon has more power than anyone I have ever met and the way he looked when he saw my eyes. He hated me.”

She turned and leaned into Kormak and he saw that she was frightened. If Aemon disliked her, she had every reason to be. Siderea was home of the Inquisition of the Eternal Sun and they did not like those humans whom the Old Ones had altered.

“But enough of this talk, Sir Kormak,” Rhiana said. “We are alone in our chambers. What are we to do?”

She moved close enough so that he could smell the faint salty tang of her skin.

“I am sure we shall think of something,” Kormak said.

***

A knock sounded on the door. Early evening light filtered in through the curtains. The chamber smelled of wine and incense and love-making.

“Yes,” Kormak said, sitting up in the bed. Rhiana lay naked beside him, reading a volume of sea lore she had found on the shelf and laughing at the inaccuracies.

An elderly retainer garbed all in black entered the chamber. He took one glance at them and looked away.

“Sir Kormak, Lady Rhiana. Tonight the King is giving a ball to celebrate the arrival of the First Treasure Fleet. He wishes you to be his guests. Prince Taran has asked me to ensure you are provided with suitable garb. If you wish I shall return once you have dressed.”

Rhiana glanced up at him and smiled. She was as unselfconscious about nakedness as all of her people. “If we are just going to get dressed again, why bother? Bring in this suitable garb!”

The old man clapped his hands and a line of servant girls entered, each of them carrying ball gowns of blue and green and crimson and white. A line of serving men brought in sets of court uniform suitable for a nobleman.

Rhiana eyed the ball gowns and smiled. “I suppose being stuck here does have some advantages.”

***

Kormak studied his reflection in the mirror. He was not sure he recognised this grey-eyed stranger. The royal barbers had trimmed his hair. The royal tailors had adjusted his garments until they fitted perfectly. He wore a black and red tunic, with a white ruff covering his neck. His dwarf-forged blade hung at a black belt around his waist. His elder sign was visible on his chest.

A sheer green gown clung to Rhiana’s full figure. A circlet bearing a gold elder sign wound round her forehead. Another one dangled from her neck. Two pearl earrings hung from her ears. A stole covered her right shoulder and obscured a gill slit. She had insisted on wearing a dress that revealed them despite the objections of the seamstresses.

She turned so he could observe.

“Go on, laugh,” she said. “Pirate girl dressed up.”

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“You look like an assassin.”

“Alas it is my fate.”

“A very good-looking assassin.”

“Thank the Sun for that.”

“Shall we go and give the local gentry something to gawk at.”

“Why not? I live to provide novelty to the lives of the nobility.”

A servant waited outside the chamber to lead them to the ballroom.

CHAPTER FOUR

THROUGH A WALL of glass, the light of the sunstone illuminated the enormous ballroom. It fell on the statues of ancient kings standing on alcove pedestals. It picked out the hundreds of nobles and the servants who brought them drinks and food. It shone down on the corner where musicians played courtly songs.

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