Reign of Madness (Revised Edition) (53 page)

“Well?” asked the duke’s son.

“Any faster and I would have said you were brothers…or
father and son,” the mage said with a grin. “You are definitely related and
closely. You are probably cousins or uncle and nephew, something of the sort. I
cannot say by which side of the family, however. It could be on your father’s
side, Tieran, which would not make him of blood relation to Bordran, as you
know.” To Rezkin he remarked, “Bordran’s brother, Deysius, died without an
heir. You could be his or Bordran’s bastard, I suppose. Ah, sorry, Rezkin, I
mean no offense.”

Rezkin shrugged and said, “No offense taken.”

“Bordran had a few uncles,” Wesson continued, “but I do not
think the blood link would be close enough for the kind of relation we just
witnessed if you were one of their sons. You could have been Bordran’s brother
or half brother, but the age is off. Both of Bordran’s parents died long before
you would have been born.”

“So, he is either a cousin from my father’s side or the
bastard son of Bordran or Deysius?” Tieran asked for clarity.

“It would seem so,” Wesson agreed.

“It sounds like something Uncle Bordran would do –
name a bastard son or nephew as his heir over his legitimate sons if he found
them lacking,” Tieran muttered as he stared at Rezkin thoughtfully. “Good
enough for me,” the young lord said as he abruptly fell to his knees and drew
his sword.

“Although this is unnecessary
since I recognize you as the rightful king, and I have already sworn fealty to
the King of Ashai, I feel inclined to do so, anyway,” Tieran stated. “Under the
watchful gaze of the Maker and before the eyes of a battle mage, I, Tieran
Nirius, Heir to House Wellinven, do hereby swear honor and fealty to Rezkin, my
liege, my lord, my king. By my blade I will protect and serve
Him
as my
king. Let this oath be binding above and beyond all previous oaths, so let my
loyalty be known.”

Rezkin held back a groan. If he
showed any irritation or ungratefulness for Tieran’s oath, it would be highly
offensive and dishonor his…cousin. He was still reeling a bit over that
revelation. He had yet to consider what that might mean for him, if anything.

Suppressing a sigh, Rezkin did
the only thing he
could
do at this point. He accepted Tieran’s oath.
“Tieran Nirius, I, Rezkin, do hereby accept your oath of fealty and your blade
in service to me. In return, I offer you protection and sanctuary, such as I am
capable of providing.”

Rezkin always added that last
part because he currently had no physical sanctuary to offer. The only
protection and sanctuary he had was what he could provide with his blades, and
with his growing number of retainers, it was impossible to be with them each at
all times. He also had his duty to his
friends
who were not all his
vassals but required his protection under
Rule 1
. As The Raven, he was
the
criminal overlord for pretty much all of Ashai. On top of that, he was
supposed to be removing a mad mage and tyrant from the throne and claiming a
kingdom. And, he
still
had to find Farson.

Wesson was looking wide-eyed
between the two. That settled one question. If Caydean
were
ever displaced
from the throne, Tieran would not wear the crown. If either of these young men
were to become king, it would be Rezkin. With Tieran’s support, it would be
difficult for others to dispute Rezkin’s claim even
if
they chose not to
acknowledge Bordran’s right to name his heir or recognize Rezkin’s Certificate
of Authority as such. Tieran could simply claim the crown and then abdicate to
Rezkin, anyway. If it turned out that Rezkin was of blood relation to Bordran,
then probably no one would bother to dispute the claim, except perhaps Duke
Atressian who had always coveted the crown.

Tieran rose to his feet and
smiled broadly. “Thank you, Rezkin, you have no idea the relief I feel with you
having taken the burden from my shoulders.”

“You are young, Tieran. You may
come to regret this decision in the years to come,” Rezkin said solemnly.

“No, cousin, I think not. I
support you whole-heartedly,” the young noble said excitedly. “Ha, ha! King
Rezkin
!
The kingdom will quake.”

“I do not think that anyone ever
thought that the Rez as king would be a good idea,” Wesson muttered.

Tieran rolled his eyes. “Well,
obviously he is not
The
Rez, but the name is infamous and the legend
popular. People will remember, and they will flock to his banner. Do you have a
banner? You need a banner.”

“I do, in a manner of speaking,”
Rezkin replied.

“Well, let us see it,” Tieran
prodded.

Rezkin frowned and remarked,
“Who is king here?”

“Oh, now you are going to start
pushing your weight around?” the young lord jibed.

The warrior sauntered over to
his bed, reached through the mage ward to grasp the hilt of the sword hidden
beneath his mattress and pulled the blade free. He raised the black blade
before him, and the green lightning inside shimmered in the light of the lamp
and mage fire.

Tieran’s jaw dropped. “The black
blade and green lightning bolt.
You
are Dark Tidings?” he exclaimed.

Rezkin scoffed and said, “Who
else?” Eyeing the black blade appreciatively, he said, “Journeyman Wesson assisted
me with the disguise. He is quite pleased with himself, I think. Kai and Tam
helped as well. Tam came up with the name.”

“So, they also serve you?”
Tieran asked.

Rezkin shook his head and
replied, “Kai, Tam, and Reaylin have sworn fealty to me of their own accord,
much as you did, except that Reaylin does not know
I
am the man to whom
she swore fealty. I accepted her oath on the
True King’s
behalf as his
Voice. Wesson serves only as a contracted employee. At the moment, only you,
Tam, Kai, and Wesson have full knowledge that I am the so-called
True King
and that I am Dark Tidings, so please do not let that little secret out of the
bag,” Rezkin requested.

“What of the Jebais and Brandt?
They all respect and admire you, and they hold no love for Caydean. I am nearly
certain they would serve you if you but told them who you are,” Tieran
declared.

Rezkin shook his head with a
sigh as he lowered the blade. “Tieran, I have kept you all in the dark not due
to a desire to deceive but in order to protect you. When I set out on this
journey, I had no intention of claiming a throne or anything of the sort. I
have no long-term
plan
. I have no sanctuary to provide. I have no army
of protection. And, as I have said before, you are all still only
heirs
.
If any one of your fathers disagrees with your choice to serve me over Caydean,
you will be disavowed. If Caydean learns of your sentiments, your entire
families will be hung for treason. You will be dead or you will be heir to
nothing.”

 The young lord looked thoughtful and nodded, “Perhaps
that is true for Malcius and Brandt; but at his age, my father seems to think
every day will be his last. Once he learns of you and our relation, he will
support you, I am sure of it. At least, he will if he believes you have an actual
chance at wresting the throne from Caydean.”

Their attention was suddenly drawn to the door as the heavy
wooden structure gave a slight heave and then rattled. “Ah, hello? Rezkin?
Wesson?” came a muffled voice.

Rezkin strode over to the door, drew back the bar and turned
the iron key in the lock. The door opened to reveal Tam standing in the
corridor drenched and dripping water onto the floor. Rezkin raised a
questioning brow as he took in Tam’s appearance. The young man grinned like a
fool and said, “Ah, long story. Where have you been? We were hoping you would
join us for dinner, but we’ve already finished.”

The warrior stepped aside to allow Tam into the room. “Oh,”
Tam exclaimed as he stopped upon seeing the others. He bowed slightly and said,
“Good evening, Lord Tieran, Journeyman Wesson.”

Rezkin shut and barred the door as Tam took in the table of
strange glass jars, twisting tubes and other…
things
…for which he had no
name. The young man turned to speak to his friend and liege but stalled as his
eyes landed on the black sword in Rezkin’s hand. His attention darted back and
forth quickly between the warrior and the duke’s son. Rezkin hefted his sword
and rested it on his shoulder as he sauntered across the room toward his bed.

“Tieran knows, Tam,” Rezkin said.

“Ah, Lord Tieran knows…
what…
exactly?” Tam cautiously
asked.

“I know that Rezkin is going to win the King’s Tournament,
and then he is going to seize the throne and save the kingdom, all the while
ensuring that I never have to accept the responsibility of the crown,” Tieran
said with a grin. The warrior frowned at the young lord as he sheathed his
sword and stowed it back under the mattress behind the mage shield that would
prevent anyone from finding it.

Tam narrowed his eyes suspiciously and said, “What exactly
happened
at the duke’s estate?”

Tieran’s face fell, and his eyes darkened as he spat,
“Someone tried to poison me…
twice
! Rezkin saved my life…or at the very
least, my reputation.”

Rezkin grabbed a drying cloth from beside the washbasin that
sat on a small table by the single window. As he tossed the cloth at his gaping
friend, he noted how dark it was outside. He turned and said, “I think we had
best find something to eat before they stop serving. Tieran, you must be
prepared to rise early for your first round of competition tomorrow. Tam, since
someone has already attempted to poison Tieran twice, I would prefer to keep
him close. Would you mind moving into the room with Kai and Brandt? I will
speak with them.”

“No, of course, that is not a problem,” Tam sputtered. He
could not believe someone had actually attempted to
poison
the duke’s
son.

As a carpenter’s apprentice, Tamarin went about his daily
chores never even considering once that
poison
might be an issue; and,
yet, it seemed that these nobles had to consider the prospect of being murdered
at all times. Rezkin’s strange habit of “checking for traps and poisons,” as he
put it, was beginning to seem more and more reasonable as he spent time around
these nobles. Sure, as a commoner, keeping food on the table was a challenge in
difficult times, but as far as he knew, no one had ever actually wanted him
dead
.
Tam had always considered the noble life to be all glamour and luxury, but he
was beginning to realize it was full of insidious plots and death.

The following day, Rezkin escorted Tieran to the staging
area of the main arena. Thirty-six people were competing in the division, and
Tieran was to participate in the opening matches. Frisha, Tam, Jimson, Shiela
and Palis were sitting in the stands to watch the event, and Rezkin asked
Wesson and Kai to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. The space behind the
group was relatively clear, since Shiela’s bright yellow parasol was blocking
the view. Malcius, Brandt, and Reaylin were all over in the second arena
observing the participants in their own competitions and preparing for their
matches that would take place in the afternoon.

The witnessing crowd was small for the first day of
competition, and spectators were split between the two arenas. Tieran competed
without incident, but Rezkin remained vigilant as usual. The duke’s son
defeated his first two opponents, only receiving a single cut, but was defeated
by the third. This earned him a score with a four-three ratio, meaning he
received four strikes out of three matches. Although the other half of the
division participants had yet to compete, the score was likely good enough to
send him to the next round. Healers were stationed nearby to tend to the
competitors’ wounds, but they did nothing for the blood or tears in garments.
The city’s wash maids and seamstresses would be very busy.

Following Tieran’s competition, the comrades took a quick
respite for the midday meal and then headed over to the second arena to witness
the First and Second Tier afternoon bouts. Reaylin won all three of her matches
but took five hits. Malcius and Brandt each won their first matches but, by an
unfortunate twist of fate, ended up paired against each other for the second.
Malcius won that match, and each went on to win their third matches, as well.

At the end of the day, all four of Rezkin’s companions who
had competed scored low enough to move on to the second round. The participants
insisted on taking Rezkin out to celebrate, crediting his tutelage for the
wins. After securing a private room at a tavern designated
The Tipsy Tankard
,
the group settled into their food and drink.

Malcius raised his tankard and said, “My thanks to Rezkin,
for I know I would not have performed so well had it not been for his expert
guidance.”

“Here, here,” replied Tieran, Brandt, and Reaylin in unison.

“I never really expected to get through the first round,”
Reaylin remarked. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to compete at all.” The
young woman had barely made it into the second round, having been the last to
make the cut. “No one can claim that I am not a warrior, now. I made it into
the second round of the King’s Tournament!” Tournament organizers did not allow
just anyone to compete. One had to be a competent swordsman just to make it
into the First Tier.

“During the last King’s Tournament, I competed in the Second
Tier. This year I made the Third. I probably would have had trouble with many
of last year’s opponents
this
year, if not for Rezkin’s teaching,”
Captain Jimson commented.

Competing in a higher tier did not automatically imply that
one could best all of the opponents in the lower tiers. If one scored high
enough in a tier, he or she could be forced to compete in the next tier in
subsequent competitions, but otherwise, a competitor might choose to compete in
a lower tier for a better chance at winning. Most participants, however, opted
to fight in the highest tier possible because the recognition, honor, and
potential prizes were that much higher.

As a member of the King’s Army, a Third Tier competitor mark
on his record would have much more weight than a Second Tier mark, even if he
finished higher in the Second Tier ranks. Higher tier competitors could expect
better wages from mercenary companies and as merchant or House guards; and
nobles competed at higher tiers simply for the bragging rights.

“I am concerned about Lord Hespion,” Brandt commented.

Rezkin’s ears perked. “What of Hespion?” the warrior asked.
Tieran was focused, now, as well.

“There is speculation that he concealed his skill during the
pre-trials to intentionally receive a lower ranking,” Brandt stated.

“Why would he do that?” asked Frisha.

“Because then he was pitted against lesser opponents in the
opening matches so that he would pass into the next round with a better ratio,”
Malcius explained. “I placed higher than he in the pre-trials, but I am going
into the second round with a two-three, while Hespion has a none-three.”

Frisha’s brow furrowed. “That doesn’t seem right. Surely
someone would speak out against such underhanded tactics.”

“There is not much anyone can do about it. It is a matter of
honor, and this just shows how little he has,” Brandt argued heatedly.

“It is not just that,” Tieran interjected. “He is a guest of
Ytrevius, as well, and he attempted to use some sort of subtle magic on Rezkin
yesterday in my very presence! Then, there is the little matter of someone
attempting to poison me. You had best stay vigilant around Hespion. I would not
put anything past the man.”

“Wait…someone tried to poison you?” Malcius exclaimed. “And
you think it was Hespion?”

Tieran sniffed and said, “I do not know who it was, but I
would not believe it beyond him. He is the worst kind of noble. I may have been
arrogant and pretentious…”

“
May have been
?” Frisha interrupted with a teasing
grin.

 Tieran rolled his eyes with a slight smile and
continued, “…but Hespion is ambitious and cunning. If he has his mind set on
winning the Second Tier competition, then you had best watch your backs.”

When the meal was finished and the group was passing back
through the common room, Palis and Brandt paused when they overheard someone
with a thick Verrilian accent say, “…and this
True King
cannot be any worse
than what they have now.”

“If I were King Trent, I would support him,” a second
Verrilian said gruffly, Trent being the reigning king of Verril. “If he is
smart, the
True King
will open up trade again.”

“But you are not the king, and of course you would want
trade open again. It is our business,” the first remarked. Both men were
thickly muscled and looked to have worked out of doors for their entire lives.

“What was that?” Palis said quietly as he approached the two
men. “You said something about the
True King
.”

“Mind your own business, boy,” the first said. “Our
conversation does not concern you.”

“No, wait, I just want to know about the
True King
,”
Palis said. “What have you heard?”

“I know not of what you speak. We said nothing of the sort,”
the second stated with increasing hostility.

“Come, Palis,” Rezkin said as he grasped the young man’s
arm. “Let us go.”

“But, they said…” Palis sputtered.

“They know nothing more than rumors. We are leaving,” the
warrior commanded.

Palis sighed but turned to leave. “They know something
about…”

“No, they do not,” Rezkin asserted as they kept walking to
catch up with the others. “Palis, you must watch yourself. If anyone heard
those two discussing such things, there is a chance they may only be arrested
and deported. If anyone overheard
you
speaking so, the consequences
would be much worse, and not just for you.”

Brandt had seen the exchange and was waiting not far away.
“Besides,” the young noble remarked, “you cannot afford to get in a fight right
now. You must compete tomorrow.”

Palis scowled at Brandt as they rejoined the group. “If I
were injured, Reaylin could heal me.”

“Like Hells I will,” the young woman scoffed.

“Could you at least
try
to sound more like a lady?”
asked Palis incredulously.

“First you want me to be a healer, and now you want me to be
a lady,” Reaylin snorted. “I do not have to be either, thank the Maker.”

“I am pretty sure the Maker intended you to be a healer,”
Palis argued. “It was the Maker who blessed you with the power, after all.”
Reaylin huffed and stomped ahead.

“You are not winning any points with her,” Brandt observed.

“I do not care to win points with Reaylin,” Palis retorted.

Brandt chuckled and said, “You might care when you come back
from the tournament looking like a stuck pig.”

“There are healers at the tournament,” Palis replied.

“That will do you little good if you get yourself pummeled
in a bar fight,” his friend remarked.

Palis sighed. “You are right. I did not think things
through. I was just eager to hear what others knew of…
him
. I was
surprised to hear anyone speaking of
him
at all, since I had never heard
word before this journey.”

“Well, if those two know something, then it is almost
certain that others will. I am sure we will hear more. Try not to get us into
trouble,” Brandt remarked.

Palis stopped and stared at his friend with gaping mouth.
“Are
you
telling
me
not to cause trouble?
You
– the
perpetual trouble maker.”

Brandt shook his head and said, “This is serious, Palis
–
very
serious. It is no joking matter.” Malcius, Shiela and
Tieran were all looking at Brandt as though he had just sprouted horns.

Palis could find no words for a moment. He finally asked,
“Who are you, and what have you done with Brandt? I never thought to hear
anything so mature or sensible come out of your mouth.”

Brandt frowned and heatedly whispered, “I am not an idiot,
Palis. This is not a matter of embarrassing my father or irritating the pompous
twits at court. It is a mater of life and death – for an entire kingdom!”

Several passersby turned their heads to stare at the group
that was standing in the street having a quiet, heated discussion. Rezkin
announced, “I think it is best we return to the inns. People are beginning to
take notice, and most of you have to compete tomorrow and need your rest.”

“
You
never rest,” Malcius muttered.

“Of course I rest,” Rezkin replied.

“No, you don’t,” Tam retorted.

“What?” Rezkin asked, surprised to hear Tam’s input.

“You’re always out late. I never see you return, but you’re
there in the morning, whether the door is barred or not. You even manage to get
around Wesson’s wards. It’s like you walk through walls or something,” Tam
argued.

“I noticed the same thing on the ship,” Malcius observed.

“You mean he’s not in your room at night?” Frisha
interrupted. She narrowed her eyes at Rezkin and said, “Where exactly are you
going in the middle of the night?”

“I have business to which I must attend,” Rezkin stated.
“Business of which
Tam
is aware,” the warrior said, giving Tam a pointed
look.

Tam’s eyes widened, and he swallowed. “Uh, right –
nothing to concern yourself over, Frisha.”

“I do not stay out
all
night. I simply turn in later
than the rest of you,” Rezkin informed them.

“And get up hours ahead of us, as well,” Malcius grumbled.
“I do not see how you can keep such a schedule. I need more sleep than that.
Sometimes I swear you are not human.”

“It is the schedule to which I am accustomed,” Rezkin
replied as though it was of no consequence. In truth, he wondered why it was
that people kept claiming he was not human.

When the group finally arrived, they separated to their
respective inns. Rezkin decided it was a good time to pay a visit of an
investigatory nature to the duke’s manor. The young warrior did not bother with
the pretense of sleeping before he slipped out of the inn. Tieran and Wesson
knew he was up to something, but neither questioned him.

Getting in to the estate was of little consequence. While
the outer doors and perimeter were heavily guarded, it seemed no one was
particularly concerned with the prospect of people entering from
above
.
Rezkin scaled a recessed outer wall and then dropped down from the roof into
the central practice courtyard. He had to pick a few locks and dislodge several
door bars, but he eventually made it to the inner chamber into which the
mole-man had escaped. The warrior slipped into the darkness, and when he was
certain no one was present, he slipped a mage stone from his pocket. The thumb-sized
stone released a faint glow just bright enough to light his way with little
chance of being seen through the cracks in the doorframe.

The room was essentially empty, aside from a long table,
several chairs and a few tapestries. Even more disconcerting, there were no
other doors or windows through which the man could have escaped. Had the mole
met with someone in this room and then left through the same door after Rezkin
had gone? The warrior wished he could have stayed and pursued the man further, but
Tieran’s immediate safety had been uncertain.

Rezkin ran his hands over the walls and checked behind
tapestries just in case there was a secret passageway. It would be odd for such
a room
not
to have one, considering it only had one door. Just as he was
about to give up, he felt a faint tingling near his foot. He crouched low and
ran his fingers over the stones between the legs of the table. Noting the
cracks between them, he decided there was, in fact, a secret passageway from
the room, but it was guarded by a mage ward. He could probably get past the
ward, but it could tip off the mage who had laid it as effectively as raising
an alarm. This particular ward gave him the feeling that it was monitored
closely, and it somehow felt different from the wards he had encountered at the
Golden Trust Bank.

Obviously, the secret portal led to an underground tunnel or
room. Rezkin wondered if the subterranean space could be accessed from any of
the adjoining rooms. It was possible there was another forgotten entrance the
mage failed to ward or on which the ward had degraded with time. Rezkin could
not afford to spend all of his time this night searching for secret
passageways. He needed to get more substantial evidence.