Mervidia (40 page)

Will the Assembly manage every aspect of my life now?
Zane thought angrily. He knew the answer before he asked it in his head though.
The King belongs to his people. A good king puts his desires aside for what will aid the greater populace and will further solidify his new leadership.

Zane gritted his teeth but managed to read the next item aloud, much to his chagrin.

“‘Who should be chosen as the royal consort?’” Zane read dully. Before anyone could speak, he continued. “I know that traditionally the Coral Assembly chooses the King’s spouse. I would at least like to put forth a name for consideration. Marin of House Chimaera.” Zane witnessed more than a few brows raise.

Marin would not be a merwin most of them would have even considered as a candidate.
Sure, she was from a High House, but she was an octolaide. The Assembly had already stepped out of their realms of comfort to allow a non-ethyrie to become king. It was a leap, asking to be wed to Marin, but if he did not at least put her name forward, the neondra felt that he’d be betraying the merwin he loved. When the surprised silence continued unbroken, Zane decided that he better elaborate, “She is wise, a talented kalku, and has been my loyal friend since we were children. Marin is also honest with me, informing me of when I am being an idiot,” he finished with a smile, hoping some levity might alleviate the tension he had caused in his fellow Coral Assembly members.

Quag laughed heartily, the
loud sharp barking noise sounding strange emerging from the grogstack’s misshapen chest. The chuckle bounced off the stone walls in a galling fashion that made Zane’s ears hurt.

“It is always good to have a female like that,” Quag said after he was done
filling the room with his merriment. Kiva had her hands over her delicate pointed ears and was shooting the grogstack a dirty look. When he had finished, she removed her hands.

“
That is wonderful,” Vaschel said, dismissing the grogstack’s disturbing laughter by moving on in their discussion, “However, I think I speak for most of us when I say we were hoping for you to marry someone of more…
prestigious
heritage.”

“Marin is a member of House Chimaera, second of the High Houses,” Zane countered, “and daughter to a former Assembly member.”
The King regarded his fellow council members, knowing that his words should hold weight. He was not prepared for the uncomfortable looks they gave him. Even Nayan shifted nervously in her chair.

What are they not telling me?
Zane thought. He grew angry again.

“Actually,” Kiva stated, drawing a vehement glare from the King.
She lowered her eyes obediently, but continued, “Just today, it came to the Assembly’s attention that Marin is not Uchenna’s daughter. That revelation was the reason for the attack on House Chimaera. You were not privy to the full details of the incident, because you were not king when it happened. It seems Ambrose the Houseless is the rightful father of your octolaide lover.” As she finished, Kiva flicked her gaze upwards to behold the look of shock on Zane’s face, both at the news and the fact that the faera had apparently known about their relationship.

Why am I so surprised that she knew?
Zane thought.
She is the head of a powerful and elaborate network of spies.
It was the information about Marin’s heritage that stifled his ire.
Did Marin know? Surely she did not. She would have told me.
The neondra wanted nothing more than to talk to Marin in that moment, to comfort her, not caring about kingship or the Coral Assembly. The merwin at the table did not care about his personal feelings.

“I’d have recommended Cassondra,” Vaschel
said, once more bringing up the former heir of House Lumen, “but she has been exiled. Who else is there? The daughters of Mervidia’s high ranking houses are limited in number.”

“I have a daughter,” Quag stated, the smile that accompanied his declaration forming a frightening upturn
on his twisted lips. The other Assembly members regarded the grogstack with horror. Even Zane failed at keeping a disturbed expression from showing on his face. Quag chuckled. “Never mind. I do have a daughter, but I know you wouldn’t choose her as consort. I had to mention it, just in case you were really desperate.”

“Perhaps, this particular item should be laid aside for the time being,” Thaddeus offered, not amused in the slightest.
Quag took no offense though, sitting back and acting quite content. “Our King is fresh to his throne. Let’s let him settle in a bit before the matters of a wife are decided?”

“Sounds good to me,” Penn said
. He was settled deeply against the back of his chair, relaxed and had a smug look on his face.

You are loving every minute of my turmoil, aren’t you Penn?
Zane thought.
You always were a shark’s shit hole.

“Yes, I agree,” Slone added.
“We can discuss this after the coronation and when the Assembly is whole again.” The neondra gestured to the two empty chairs around the table, showing the orange and back striped scales crisscrossing up his forearm from his webbed hand. The Coral Assembly nodded together, all but Zane agreeing.

“Marin will be considered,” Nayan said, trying to appease the sour look on the
neondra’s face. The King fixed the jellod with a resigned look and nodded as well.

At least, Marin
will be considered
, Zane thought, taking comfort in the machi’s words.
If a more suitable consort is not brought forward, she could very well be chosen.
Zane bowed his head, putting the matter aside and reading the last item on the Assembly’s agenda.

“Fitting, considering
some of the details of our last discussion,” King Zane stated and signaled to Captain Raygo by the door. “Please bring in the prisoner who attacked House Chimaera as well as the witnesses to the incident. It is time for their testimonies.”

“Sire,” the re
d-finned ethyrie captain asked, before complying with the king’s request, “Might I request a short recess, so that I can fully brief you on the attack on House Chimaera? As Domo Kiva stated earlier, you were not our king at the time and were not given all of the details.”

“Very well,” Zane said.
“Let’s take a brief break. Perhaps, help yourself to something to eat in the parlor area.” The neondra waved a hand to his right, where a small table of refreshments had been set up next to a number of kelp-cushioned chairs. Zane welcomed the brief respite and the opportunity to find out more about the attack on Marin’s house. Once again, he became worried about his lover.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

As he was led into the Assembly chamber, Ambrose couldn’t help but smile, despite the roped kelp over his mouth and the stone that had been wedged between his teeth.
A thick strip of the plant covered his eyes and another rope bound his wrists tightly together.
They are so frightened of me,
he thought.
Why else would they have me trussed up like this?
Ambrose felt the water moving across his tentacles change direction as he crossed the threshold.
Their vents, circulating fresh water into the room,
he surmised. He had never been in the Coral Assembly’s inner chamber before, but he knew enough about the Coral Assembly to realize what kind of room to expect.

The
ethyrie, to whom he had surrendered, removed Ambrose’s blindfold. The octolaide took a moment to let his eyes adjust.
Exactly as I suspected,
he thought, looking around.
An unadorned table to show how dedicated they are to the common merwin, but surrounded by ostentatious chairs; miniature thrones on which to perch their tender little tails. They don’t even see the utter hypocrisy of it all. They claim to rule for the good of all Mervidia, yet they sit here, in their safe little cave, or in their houses surrounded by guards, and make decrees that ultimately benefit only them.

Ambrose’s eyes traveled over the room quickly, taking it in at a glance.
Its main feature was the long, ostensibly austere table with the gaudy chairs arranged around it. This arrangement was next to a seating area for more relaxed conversations. The chamber was windowless, sheltered from the eyes of the merwin in whose name they purported to rule. The room itself was bad enough, but the merwin who sat around it were infinitely worse
. Coddled little fries scrambling for elusive wisps of power to hold over the heads of others. They are dangerously naïve remora sucking the life from Mervidia.
If he had any lingering regrets about leaving the city behind before, they disappeared as he looked upon the Coral Assembly.

Some of them he recognized, some he did not.
He knew Kiva, the faera representative, solely because it was dangerous not to. The small green-haired merwin was responsible for far more death than Ambrose would ever be, yet there she was with the other
respectable
merwin from the High Houses, telling all the common merwin what to do.

Nayan he knew
of course from their heated debates concerning magic and its proper uses in their younger days. The jellod was allegedly a very powerful machi now,
for whatever that’s worth,
he mentally sneered.
To have so much power and choose merely to serve. What a waste.
Ambrose dismissed the healer and took in the rest of the Coral Assembly.

As he suspected, there was a representative from each of the merwin races.
There was a stout looking merwin, who somehow managed to look pompous even for a neondra, swimming around with his glittering golden tail. His bare chest sported a frilled shark tooth around his neck which Ambrose assumed was a trophy from some past conquest. There was a blue-skinned seifeira, who, despite his obvious calling as a kelp farmer, rested comfortably on his seat along with the rest of the insipid merwin in the room.
You know what it’s like to take your sustenance from the sea with your own hands. Why are you here with the rest of these deluded fools?
Ambrose wondered. The kalku’s eyes passed on to the next Assembly member, unwilling to waste too much mental energy on someone whom he had no desire to understand. If the seifeira noticed the dismissal, which Ambrose doubted, he had no reaction; he was far too busy trying to mask his fear to be offended.

Another
neondra, this one striped in bands of orange and black, floated beside the pretentious Yellowtail, attempting to cover his anxiety with bravado. Ambrose noticed that the striped merwin’s hand never strayed far from the blade at his waist.
As if a sharp little piece of coral could protect you from me,
Ambrose chuckled mentally. The octolaide held the neondra’s gaze just long enough for him to look away. The kalku had made his point.

There was a pink and red
ethyrie who pretended to have an inordinate amount of interest in the surface of the table in front of him, barely looking up for a moment as Ambrose’s blindfold was removed.
Vaschel, isn’t it?
Ambrose asked mentally.
The Domo of House Paua, the most powerful house in Mervidia, for whatever fleeting bit of glory that’s worth.

There were only two merwin at the table who unabashedly wore their true emotions on their face.
Quag the grogstack, who despite his prodigious size and physical prowess, was clearly unnerved at being that close to him. The large merwin sat looking at the kalku, anxiety plain in his eyes. Ambrose had met him a couple of times in the past, out beyond the borders of Mervidia. Quag had once come to the octolaide’s cave as a diplomatic representative of his people, asking after a small load of orihalcyon that had gone missing. Ambrose had sent the grogstack away empty-handed and thoroughly convinced that accusing the kalku of theft was not something he should do twice.
Of course I took it, you lumbering oaf,
Ambrose thought.
But taking something that the ocean offers freely isn’t theft.

Floating insouciantly beside Quag was Thaddeus, Domo of House Tenebris and Ambrose’s brother.
The expression he wore unmistakably portrayed his feelings of disappointment. The siblings nodded coolly to one another. Everything they had to say to one another had been said a long time ago, when Ambrose had left House Tenebris and Mervidia behind.

At the far end of the table was a merwin
who Ambrose did not recognize, either by look or reputation. A young, obviously pureblooded, red-finned neondra regarded him with an expression that was confident and at the same time strangely optimistic amongst the others. His eyes were open and full of purpose. It was as if the neondra saw the world for what it was, yet despite observing its inherent cruelty held hope for the future. Ambrose did not know this merwin, but made a mental note to learn more about him.

The kalku
aggressively jerked his head forward, testing the merwin, and the neondra’s eyes widened the slightest amount.
Good,
Ambrose thought.
You’re not a total fool. You know enough to fear me despite your naivety.
Something else was revealed to the kalku in that instant, when the young neondra had let his confidence slip.
You’re unsure of something, yourself perhaps?

There are already two
neondra here, so what is your purpose? You sit in the Royal Chair, yet you do not wear the Fangs.
Ambrose looked around the room, noting the merwin in attendance and surmising their roles there. All the racial delegates were present, save for the ethyrie representative.
Where is the Queen Mother?
Ambrose wondered, but dismissed the thought because he simply did not care in the end.

The kalku noted the domos
for each of the three highest ranking houses.
Excepting Chimaera of course,
Ambrose silently chuckled.
Domo Uchenna is currently feeding the ocean.
The kalku halfheartedly tried to keep the expression of satisfaction off of his face but found that he could not help himself. Those around the room, who had regarded him with fear before, saw his smile and blanched even more.

“Remove his gag, Captain Raygo,” the red-finned
neondra at the far side of the table said, waving a webbed hand at the ethyrie warrior floating next to Ambrose. Whoever the merwin was, he was used to giving orders.

Ambrose casually reached up with a tentacle and touched the tip to the thick band of kelp that covered his mouth.
The slightest of mental exertions and the gag fell away, a small section of the woven kelp strands simply turned black and then disintegrated into tiny granules of dead plant matter at his touch. He spat out the stone that had been placed in his mouth. The rock hit the table and skittered along its surface coming to rest in front of his brother, Thaddeus. The octolaide representative shot his sibling a withering look.

“Ah,” Ambrose said, working his jaw slightly to loosen the tension caused by the gag.
“That’s much better.”

“Look out!” the two seated
neondra said in unison. Both merwin, one yellow-tailed and the other orange and black striped, went for their weapons. The ethyrie warrior next to Ambrose turned quickly in the water, trying to place his spear between himself and the kalku. One of the octolaide’s tentacles darted out, briefly touching the center of the red-hued ethyrie’s chest. Some of the color drained from the merwin’s skin and the glittering of his scales dulled, as he went limp in the water. The spear fell from his hand and drifted to the stone floor. Raygo was conscious, but floated upwards, too weak to steady himself with the flowing red flukes of his wide tail. His eyes remained open, but his lids appeared heavy.

“
Be still!” Thaddeus yelled over the rising clamor, shouts of panic and the scrambling of merwin to either get away from Ambrose or to draw their weapons. A pulse of kalku magic accompanied the octolaide’s command, lending it a touch of mystical weight and causing everyone in the room to pause. The room went deathly quiet as they turned to regard the Domo of House Tenebris.

“Nice to see you finally found your voice, brother,” Ambrose said, his tone contemptuous.
As a child, Thaddeus had always been soft spoken, a trait that had carried into adulthood. Given the looks his sibling was getting from the other members of the Coral Assembly, they were just as surprised as Ambrose that the octolaide representative had raised his voice so.

“I neither crave nor require your approval, Ambrose,” Thaddeus replied, his face hard as he regarded his brother.
The two octolaides stared at each other for a long moment, before Thaddeus turned to the red-finned neondra at the far end of the table. “I don’t believe there is any imminent threat from my brother, King Zane.”

“Are you certain, Thaddeus?” the merwin asked, his hand still on a short blade that hung from his waist below a sharkskin vest.

Ambrose shook his head at yet another merwin wearing garments.
Uchenna’s coat had looked ridiculous,
the kalku thought.
It was a silly affectation, trying to prove his superiority.
The kalku looked more closely at the neondra’s apparel.
But your vest, young Zane, looks to be more a trophy than a statement. Something you claimed from a vanquished predator perhaps? Taken and then crafted to fit your needs.
It was clothing, but it was functional, uninhibiting protection. Ambrose found himself nodding slightly in approval.

“Mostly certain, Sire,” Thaddeus said, answering Zane’s question.

“I am alright,” Raygo
croaked weakly. “He just surprised me, Sire.”

Ambrose knew that the
ethyrie was trying to cover his wounded pride by downplaying what the kalku had done to him, but Raygo’s words somewhat eased the anxiety of the other merwin in the room.

Thaddeus continued, “Had my brother wished us harm, several of us would already be dead.
He could have freed himself at any time.” The octolaide representative turned to Ambrose. “Isn’t that right, brother?” Thaddeus named his sibling with no small amount of contempt and shame.

“Quite, dear brother,” Ambrose replied, smiling.
To illustrate his point, the kalku reached up and wrapped a tentacle around the thick kelp rope that bound his wrists together. The blue interwoven strands of plant turned brown, then black at his touch, before withering completely. With a last tug, the octolaide snapped his bonds with contemptuous ease. Ambrose rubbed his hands together and grinned at the Coral Assembly. “My incarceration was quite voluntary, I assure you.”

“And Captain Raygo?” Zane asked, his hand still on the hilt of his blade.
The neondra was mostly unaffected by Ambrose’s display. He was angry over the treatment the captain of the Palace Guard , but a tiny mote of fear remained in his eye.

No, not fear,
Ambrose thought, looking more closely at this Zane.
Cautiousness and no small amount of respect. Good. You recognize a predator when you see one but know better than to show fear, before me, or the members of the Assembly.
Ambrose was beginning to like this merwin.

“He is unharmed,” Ambrose replied.
“He will be weak and quite ravenous for a while, but otherwise he is uninjured. In the meantime, he won’t be waving that spear of his at his betters.” The kalku retrieved Raygo’s weapon from the floor with a tentacle, passed it to his hand and then tossed it onto the long table. The sound of bone and coral clanging on stone echoed through the silent room.

“Despite your prodigious magical talents,” the king said, addressing Ambrose as he took his hand off the weapon at his belt, “you must realize that you cannot fight your way out of the palace.
Penn and Slone are the two of the most skilled fighters in Mervidia.” He indicated the golden-scaled merwin and striped neondra with a wave of his hand. Both still had their hands on their weapons but had not yet drawn them. “Surely, they would give you pause.”