In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) (51 page)

Paljor certainly wasn’t pleased at the suggestion, at any rate. “Enough! Barons, vote against this proposal now, so that we can end this charade… and so that I can destroy these cowards for their lies!”

The Council looked rather uncomfortable at that declaration. Even the Seat who had objected to the proposal initially found himself saying, “They entered under flag of truce. We can’t—”

“
I
am the Sword King here!” Paljor screamed. The flow of magic could be felt even by the untrained as he slammed the offending Seat back down into his chair. “My words are law! Which means you have no choice in how you vote. I order you to vote against these liars’ proposal, so that I may kill them at my leisure!”

Well,
Maelgyn thought to himself, taking a deep breath.
I guess I’ve got no choice now, do I? I’ve got to take this step even before the vote. I was hoping to get the Borden Isle Council to agree first, but I suppose it might work out better this way.

“It seems to me,” he said aloud, turning to face Paljor, “That you are violating your own laws, ‘Your Majesty.’ And even a Sword King is not above his own laws.”

“And what do you know of our laws?” Paljor snapped.

Maelgyn cocked his head. “Do you take me for a fool? Do you really think I would have come here, and made a proposal like this, knowing nothing of the laws that would govern the Borden Isles? Come, now – you have barely changed the common laws from the time before the rebellion, much less the laws of Governance. I know that you are not allowed to force your Council to vote one way or another. Let them vote without interference, or their vote becomes meaningless... in which case I will have the right to challenge their ruling as being made under duress.”

“Which would lead to a duel between us,” Paljor laughed. “I am not worried in the least by any threat a simple child such as yourself might present.”

Maelgyn raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps not. But I stand ready to fight you if necessary. You would be well advised to allow these Barons to vote their conscience instead of directing how they vote. In all likelihood, they will vote against us, and it won’t be a concern for you.”

Paljor’s eyes narrowed. “And if they
do
vote on your behalf?”

“Well,” Maelgyn said slowly. “As the reigning Duke of the Borden Isles, you would be obligated to follow their ruling under both Sviedan law and your own. One minor change in your laws grants you a ‘trial by combat’ if you desperately want a law overturned. If the vote was unanimous, you could challenge me, as the law’s sponsor, to a duel in an effort to veto it, but as long as the vote is not unanimous you could veto it regardless.”

Paljor cocked his head slightly. “And in that unlikely event, what happens?”

“Then we are still at war. Or you may allow the vote to stand, and remain a Sword as the Sword Prince and Duke of the Borden Isles,” Maelgyn replied, then smiled slowly. “I would even be willing to pardon you and your family line for its treachery, myself, regardless of what your family papers show in regards to any deals with Sho’Curlas, provided you swear to remain faithful to Svieda for the remainder of your days. But I am afraid you would nevertheless be subject to justice, if not under Sviedan laws... for you violated the treaty with the Golden Dragons when you murdered the one from which you made that armor. The law will still require me to deliver you for trial by their Elders.”

“Who of course, will sentence me to death,” Paljor snorted. “I’m sorry, but I don’t exactly see the advantage for me to allowing the vote to stand, in that case.”

“Well,” Maelgyn considered. “Perhaps there is none to you. But your followers might think different.” He paused – the fight was now inevitable, but he could still engage in a little diplomacy for the benefit of the Seats. “If the Borden Isles legally votes to maintain independence after this news, I, as a Sword Prince in a time without a reigning Sword King, will use my authority to formally recognize the Borden Isles’ independence and end our war. But I will still be obligated, by treaty with the Golden Dragons, to either bring you before them for trial or kill you myself.”

Paljor cocked his head. “It sounds as if there is no way for me to avoid a fight, doesn’t it?”

“You could always surrender,” Ruznak suggested. “The Golden Dragons won’t necessarily kill you if you can justify your actions.”

“My only ‘justifications’ are those I require as the Sword King,” Paljor snarled. “The Dragons intrude upon my lands, and as such they forfeit their lives to me to do with as I please... and I desired a set of dragonhide armor, which requires a dead Dragon to make. If they cannot accept that, then I shall destroy them, as well.”

“The Council has voted,” the Sergeant at Arms called from the podium on Paljor’s right. “By a unanimous vote, Baron Uwelain’s proposal that Paljor be removed from the office of Sword King – pending the examination of Maelgyn’s evidence – is passed.”

Paljor’s eyes widened. “What is this? When was this bill proposed? And when was the vote taken?”

“Moments ago for both questions, your majesty,” Uwelain explained. He had quietly taken his chair while Maelgyn and Paljor talked, and evidently had been working on a solution of his own. “Your abuse of power in this situation was enough to convince even the most reluctant of the Seats that Maelgyn deserves a fair hearing, at the least. We discussed the matter and voted silently, as the law allows. It was your own right hand man, the Sergeant-at-Arms, who counted the votes for us... and he says it was unanimous.”

“Then I will simply challenge you to a duel, Uwelain.” Paljor shrugged. “For the right to veto. You cannot stand against me. Or will you, as the bill’s sponsor, decline said duel and allow my veto to stand?”

Maelgyn swiftly made his way to within earshot of Uwelain as the Baron paled. Everyone knew that Paljor could easily crush any member of the Seats in a duel, and as the bill’s sponsor his only hope to survive was to win the duel or withdraw his bill.

“Accept the challenge,” Maelgyn said to him. “But make me your champion. He’s right that you cannot fight him, but as a mage I might stand a chance. And if I fail... well, we’re both dead anyway, from what Paljor has been saying.”

Uwelain was looking even more nervous at those words, but he nodded nonetheless. “I, Baron Uwelain, accept the challenge,” he called, causing all of the Seats to look at him in shock. Not a single one of them expected him to agree, even those that heard Maelgyn’s plea. The chance of anyone beating Paljor in a duel was so unlikely that it was considered suicide to enter into one with him. “And I name as my champion Maelgyn, Duke of Sopan and Sword Prince of Svieda.”

Paljor nodded slowly. “Very well. Sword Prince Maelgyn. Prepare yourself – the duel will begin in ten minutes, and it will happen here – on the floor of the Council Chambers of New Svieda. Here I shall spill the blood of my cousins... and finally teach them never to cross the waters again.”

Chapter 30

Uwelain stepped before the Sergeant-at-Arms, negotiating the terms of the duel while acting as his own champion’s second. “We believe that Royal treasures such as the Swords should not be used in this duel. They are of too much value to risk in a battle of this nature.”

Acting as Paljor’s second, the Sergeant-at-Arms nodded. “We shall agree to that – we would have proposed something similar. However, we desire Maelgyn’s Sword to be offered up as a trophy. Paljor must give up his Sword should he lose; it is only fair that he has the right to gain another when he wins.”

That surprised Uwelain, and he looked over at Maelgyn for instructions. The Sword Prince hesitated briefly before saying, “As long as it is understood that only the weapon itself is offered as trophy. Sopan will remain a province of Svieda, regardless of the outcome.”

“As expected,” Paljor’s second agreed. “Do you have any other terms for this duel?”

“Regardless of who wins,” Maelgyn said, not allowing Uwelain to answer for him. “All of those who entered with me under flag of truce will be allowed to depart, unharmed.”

“No!” Paljor snapped. “There are two traitors to New Svieda in your party, and both must die.”

Both seconds looked momentarily nonplussed at that exchange, before Uwelain sighed and reluctantly conceded the point. “Withdrawn,” he said. “But I propose, as a substitution, that the Elf, Dwarf, and Nekoji be allowed to leave. Euleilla has declared she will stay with her husband even after his death, and both I and Ruznak accepted our fates before we volunteered for this. The others, however, came in under flag of truce, and with the expectation that it would be honored.”

“That, I think, we can agree with,” the Sergeant-at-Arms said uncertainly, glancing at Paljor for confirmation. At the man’s impatient nod, he continued, “And now I believe our negotiations are at an end. You will have two minutes to prepare yourselves as the Council Chambers are cleared for the duel, and then we will begin.”

The principles of the duel both glared at each other before returning to their corners. Maelgyn closed his eyes, taking a moment to collect himself before the battle, when Euleilla stepped up to kiss him. “Husband,” she said. “Remember my vow. I cannot fight alongside you in this duel, but they will have to kill me to stop me from protecting you should you fall.”

“I know,” Maelgyn sighed, feeling his heart tighten up as he thought of it. “We’ll see what I can do.” He handed her his Sword, and then pulled out another weapon. “And I shall use the weapon you crafted for me during our first battle together to fight him. You will be well represented, love.”

“He isn’t really stronger than you, husband,” she insisted desperately, her composure breaking. “He may be a High Mage. That is easy to see. But you have powers still untapped, and weapons he knows nothing about. You can be a High Mage, yourself, if you don’t hold yourself back too much. You can win this.”

“He’s crazy, he is,” Wangdu noted softly, stepping in to offer his advice. “Even his allies know this, they do. That can be exploited, it can.”

Ruznak, though, had the strongest words. “My foster daughter is your wife, and she believes in you. If you make a widow of her, I know I’m dead as well... and I’ll be haunting you for the rest of your afterlife, so you had best fight well.”

Maelgyn laughed bitterly. “Thanks, ‘gramps,’” he said. “If anything will make me want to kill this guy more than saving Svieda and all our lives, it’s the thought that your ugly face will be harassing me for all of eternity.”

“I ain’t your gramps!” Ruznak snarled, but everyone knew he wasn’t serious. The tension had been broken, however, and his job was done.

Paljor laughed from across the room. “The time for you to pretend you have a chance is over. The floor is clear. Come here, boy, and let me teach you a final lesson in ‘diplomacy!’”

“Perhaps it is I who will be teaching
you
a lesson in humility, Paljor,” Maelgyn snapped back with a confidence he did not feel. He was neither an ideal swordsman nor a High Mage, in truth. He was a dabbler in swordsmanship and he had some raw, underdeveloped talent in magic. That combination was usually enough to combat the average soldier or the average mage without a serious strain, but... this was neither an average soldier nor an average mage. This was a High Mage, and one who likely had much more experience as a swordsman than Maelgyn. The only advantages he held were slight: His youth, his enthusiasm, and his
schlipf
. Well, the
schlipf
was more than a “slight” advantage, perhaps, but Maelgyn believed that it would be best to use its offensive capabilities to catch Paljor off guard, but it would also be his coup de grace. That was the totality of his plan, at this point, so he couldn’t afford to tip Paljor off by using Sekhar too early in the battle.

Maelgyn threw his magic into his blood, hoping to make his strength and reaction time great enough to match the more experienced man. He then drew the sword Euleilla had made for him, and said a silent prayer that she would somehow survive this even if he did not. “Whenever you are ready, your ‘majesty,’” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

“Then let us begin,” Paljor laughed, casually swinging his own sword a few times as if to loosen up. His sword looked to be a well-forged katana, not quite at the level of one of the Swords of Svieda but certainly a fine piece.

Better equipped, stronger, more powerful, and more experienced,
Maelgyn thought in resignation.
Hopefully I at least have luck on my side.

“Fight!” snapped the Seat refereeing the duel.

It wasn’t all a rush of action straight from the get-go, like Maelgyn had been expecting. In his previous “real” combat experience, the moment two swordsmen got close to each other they would start fighting... which was only to be expected when there was the possibility that taking the time to evaluate your opponent could get you killed by his allies. This was a duel, however, which was a very different situation. He wasn’t sure when to attack, but thanks to Sekhar he would know when to block. He was relying entirely on that, hoping that he could possibly use a counterattacking style which would utilize his skills, both natural and magical, to the best of their ability.

Left!
Sekhar suddenly shouted to him. The living weapon knew of Maelgyn’s plans, and while he could have blocked for Maelgyn he opted to follow the plan as it had been set. Fortunately, Sekhar could remain hidden underneath cotton wraps and still sense danger as if he were in the open, or else it would have been too obvious that he was present to even attempt such a plan.