Reign of Madness (Revised Edition) (55 page)

The three observed the warrior’s appearance carefully, and
Tam remarked, “I have never seen you wear your swords like that.”

Having finished removing his footwear, Rezkin began pulling
at the blackened buckles on the black leather straps he used to carry his
swords on his back. As he removed the harness he replied, “They would get in
the way on my hips. It would be more difficult to get through windows without
making a noise.”

“Do you have to go through windows often?” Malcius inquired
with suspicion.

“When it is necessary,” Rezkin grumbled. “Why are you here,
Malcius? You have to compete today.”

Malcius frowned and said, “I slept while they waited up. I
can sleep later, if necessary. I am not to compete until the afternoon.
You
are avoiding the subject.”

“What subject is that?” Rezkin asked as he began pulling
knives, small spinning blades and needles from his outer tunic and setting them
neatly in a row on his mattress. When he was finished, he removed the outer
tunic to reveal a several more daggers strapped to his arms and torso. Malcius
lost his line of thought as he watched Rezkin remove a small arsenal from his
person.

“Since you all are here and awake, you can help me oil my
blades,” Rezkin announced.

Four sets of eyes glanced up at him from the pile of silver
and blackened metal lying on the bed. “Is that
all
?” Tieran asked
incredulously.

Rezkin smirked and said, “Of course not. That is only the
outer layer, but I am not disrobing for you to find the rest. A warrior must
keep
some
secrets.”

“By the Maker, Rezkin, why would you carry so many weapons?
You look as if you are going to war as a one-man army,” Tieran remarked.

“I cannot believe that you, of all people, would question
that
,”
Rezkin replied.

Tieran was suddenly reminded that he had just sworn fealty
to the man in hopes that he would, in fact, arrest the throne from a mad tyrant
and somehow do so without an army at his back. When Tieran first learned of the
True King
, Kai had said that the man possessed the power and skills to
do so. Tieran was beginning to realize that Rezkin’s list of skills went far
beyond those of a normal lord. “I suppose I see your point. I guess I was just
wondering why you were carrying them
tonight
.”

Rezkin shrugged and said, “I have most of these on me at all
times. My business tonight could have called for more, so I compensated.
Fortunately, I did not need them.”

“What kind of business were you up to?” Malcius exclaimed
with horror.

“King’s business,” Rezkin said sternly with a look that
warned the young noble not to ask any more questions.

“He is here – here in Skutton, is he not? I have been
hearing rumors of him where there were none before,” Malcius replied excitedly.

The others looked to Rezkin expectantly, but the warrior
simply said, “You and your brother had best keep your distance from anything
having to do with him, at least for now.”

Malcius frowned and replied, “Why, Rezkin? Are you the only
one who is permitted to concern yourself with the welfare of the kingdom?”

Rezkin responded, “It is dangerous, Malcius. Palis could
have gotten into serious trouble at the tavern.”

The Jebai ran a frustrated hand through his loose hair and
said, “I know, but he would not be so careless if you let him in.”

“Let him in to
what
, Malcius?” Rezkin asked with
exasperation. “Would you have him serve the True King? Would you have him swear
fealty to a man you do not know and risk his life and the lives of your family,
your entire House? What of your father? Would he disown Palis for doing so?
Would
you
? Because, if he were found out, that would be the only
recourse that
might
save your lives; and then you would be expected to
fight your own brother. If he were caught, Caydean would likely have
you
kill Palis, yourself, to prove your loyalty.”

Malcius’s face turned pale. “No, I did not say that Palis
should serve him. He only wishes to know more about the man,” the young lord
argued. “He wants to meet him.”

“Malcius, word is spreading. The war has started. You cannot
seek out such a man without being expected to choose a side. You still have
time. It will start here, and it will spread. By the time it reaches you and
your House, the balance of power and support will be more defined. Are you
truly ready to join the war
now
?” Rezkin asked.

The young lord swallowed as he pondered the implications.
“You think he would consider us enemies if we did not join him?”

“He is a
king
, Malcius – the
rightful
king
of a corrupted throne. Within this kingdom, particularly within the nobility,
there can be no neutral parties. You are either with him or against him,”
Rezkin asserted.

“But, you said he did not even want the throne,” the young
lord protested.

The warrior shook his head and said, “You cannot wage a war
with half measures, Malcius. He has decided it is his responsibility to take what
was granted into his care, and to do so, he must be ruthless and effective.”

Tieran stepped forward, and Rezkin gave him a warning look.
“You forget to whom you speak, Malcius. Your knowledge of Rezkin’s close
association with the True King makes you a threat. Most generals would force
you to choose a side
now
. Those who openly support the True King in the
beginning will endure the most scrutiny and the harshest punishments. The fact
that Rezkin has given you this time and does not demand your fealty to the king
demonstrates the high level of friendship and trust he feels for you. The king
has certain responsibilities to his subjects to keep them safe, and leaving
loose ends such as
you,
is a risk that I am not certain he should be
taking. Should he care more for you than for his cause…than for his subjects?”

“I would never betray Rezkin,” Malcius retorted.

“You have sworn no allegiance. If you do not support the
True King, then you must support Caydean,” Tieran argued.

“I have not claimed to support either one over the other,”
Malcius protested.

“Malcius, you are a noble. The very nature of your position
demands that you owe fealty to the king. You can either choose to serve the
rightful king or the usurper who sits upon the throne, but you
must
serve one of them,” said the duke’s son.

“And you? You speak as though you have already decided,”
Malcius observed.

“We are discussing
your
service to the crown, not
mine,” Tieran replied.

“Well, I think it is important,” Malcius argued. “With
Thresson gone, your father aging, and Caydean having no interest in producing
an heir,
you
will be the next king,
unless
you choose to serve
this True King. Doing so will cost you the crown.
Your
opinion is
important, Tieran – probably the most important opinion in the kingdom.
If you recognize him as the rightful king, the rest of us may as well by
default, for the True King will wear the crown upon Caydean’s death,
regardless.”

Tieran stared at Malcius. “Did you not hear me earlier when
I said that someone tried to poison me? My word only carries weight so long as
I am alive and appear sane enough to make the claim.”

“What is your claim, Tieran?” Malcius asked outright.

Tieran straightened and looked at Malcius with calculation.
Rezkin glanced up from where he was polishing and oiling his blades. Finally,
the young lord said, “I have already sworn fealty to the True King.”

Malcius’s jaw dropped. “You
met
him?”

Tieran shifted uncomfortably and said, “I have.”

“Then, what is the point in arguing this, Tieran? You have
already handed him the throne,” Malcius said with exasperation.

“King Bordran handed him the throne, not I,” Tieran argued.

“You have seen his proof, then?” Malcius inquired.

“I have, and it is impressive. More than that, though, I discovered
that he is of the bloodline,” Tieran said as he struggled to keep his eyes from
darting to Rezkin.

“What?” Malcius and Tam exclaimed at the same time. Tam had
not known of the test Wesson performed.

Tieran rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, “I do not know
how exactly, but we are definitely closely related.”

“So his claim is legitimate by king’s decree and by blood,”
Malcius stated thoughtfully. “Then, I will swear fealty to him as well. Even if
I do not publicly announce my allegiance, the king will know that he has my
support when he needs it,” Malcius said proudly.

Rezkin began packing away his assortment of weapons and
said, “After the tournament. If you still wish to do so, then I will reveal him
to you
after
the tournament.”

Malcius frowned. “What has the tournament to do with
anything?”

Rezkin raised a brow and said, “He is competing.”

“The True King is competing in the tournament?” Malcius
exclaimed incredulously.

“What better way for a king to prove his mettle and gain the
attention and admiration of the people than to win the King’s Tournament?”
Wesson remarked. The others looked at Wesson with a startled glance. They had
nearly forgotten the mage’s presence.

Malcius’s brow furrowed. “But, all of the noble Fifth Tier
competitors are known except…” His eyes widened in realization. Rezkin and
Tieran both gave him a look that said he should have caught on much sooner. “
Dark
Tidings
is the True King?” he exclaimed. The noble’s face froze as he
thought back to the two occasions on which he had seen the figure. The man was
dangerous and imposing. His demeanor exuded confidence and demanded obeisance.
His command and authority was non-negotiable, and no one questioned that he had
the power to impose his will. Malcius had always been in awe of the strikers,
but even they could not hold a candle to Dark Tidings.

“Of course he is the king,” Malcius muttered. “What if he
does not win?” he asked with concern.

Tieran, Tam and Wesson all looked at Rezkin questioningly.
Apparently, the same concern had run through their minds. “He will,” Rezkin
stated with confidence as he slipped the leather roll of weapons into his pack.

“How can you be so certain?” Malcius asked.

“Because he is better than his opponents,” Rezkin stated
simply.

“Is he better than you?” the young noble inquired.

Rezkin paused and then said, “No, I cannot say that he is
better. We are of the same
Skill
level.”

Malcius considered Rezkin thoughtfully, “So, that is why you
did not enter the tournament. He could not have you competing against him.”

“No, I could not have competed against him,” Rezkin agreed
truthfully.

The young noble narrowed his eyes at his friend, but before
he could speak, Rezkin said, “It is late, Malcius. The sun will rise in a
couple of hours, and it would be best if we get some rest.”

Malcius glanced at the window and then nodded. His own inn
would be locked up tight at this hour. Rezkin tossed him a blanket and said, “I
am taking back my bed.”

The young lord groaned and whined, “But I have to compete
this afternoon.”

“You should have thought of that before you ambushed me from
my own bed,” Rezkin retorted.

The next couple of days were busy for everyone. On the
second day of the tournament, Reaylin was to compete first during the morning
session in the second arena. The second round of the Second Tier competition
was to be held in the afternoon in the same arena. Unfortunately, Malcius and
Brandt’s competition was held at the same time that Palis and Jimson would be
competing in the first round of the Third Tier competition in the main arena,
so the friends had to split their attendance between them. After the day’s end,
the group met back at the Sun Coast Inn for dinner and ale.

“I am not angry that I lost. I am angry that he beat me in such
an underhanded manner,” Brandt fumed. “By all rights, he should be banned from
the tournament indefinitely, but, instead, I sit here a loser while he goes on
to compete in the third round.”

“What did the judges say?” Captain Jimson inquired.

“They said they saw nothing,” the young noble huffed.
“Pressing the matter would only have made me look like a sore loser and an
embarrassment.”

“What happened?” Frisha asked. The young woman had gone to
see Palis and Jimson’s first matches and had missed whatever happened to
Brandt. To their excitement, Palis and Jimson had both scored well enough to
enter the second round of the Third Tier competition.

Brandt sighed. “Hespion was my third opponent. I had already
accrued three points in my first two matches, but if I did well against
Hespion, I might have made it to the third round. I was nervous, but I really
was not that worried. I do not believe he is as good a dueler as he thinks he
is. Anyway, we went at each other with a few test strikes, and suddenly he just
trips and falls – for no reason! I should have known something was up,
but my blood was surging, and I moved in to take advantage of his slipup. The
next thing I know, I am blind and my eyes are burning. He makes three strikes
before I can clear my eyes, and I am out!

“The ground in the arena is packed hard. It is not so simple
to kick up dust. It was easy to see later where he scored the ground with his
pommel and tossed the dirt in my face. He made it look like an accident. He
said he tripped on a rock and must have accidentally tossed up some dirt when
he was recovering, but no one could find any such rock. Regardless, the judges
accepted the win and now I am out.”

“It was a dirty trick – ah, no pun intended,” Malcius
remarked. “If they had been fighting in the Melee it would have been an
acceptable move, but this was the dueling tournament.”

“I am sorry that happened to you, Brandt,” Frisha said with
sympathetic eyes. “Is there nothing that can be done?”

Malcius grinned. “Of course there is. I am fighting Hespion
tomorrow, and I will make him look the fool.”

The following day, Malcius met Hespion for his second bout.
The young noble had watched Hespion closely during the previous matches and
caught on to the man’s shady tactics. When he faced Duke Atressian’s son in the
arena, Malcius was wary and ready for whatever the cheat would deliver.

Rezkin, Tieran, Frisha, Tam, Reaylin, Shiela and Wesson were
all in the lower stands nearest the competitors. A couple of the Jebai House
Guards and Sergeant Millins sat in the rows behind the lords. Waylen had also
made it into the third round of the First Tier competition and was competing in
the same arena at the same time, so the companions were able to watch both
matches. If the matches wound up quickly, the companions could potentially
catch Palis and Jimson’s matches in the first arena. It was unfortunate that
all three tiers were competing at the same time, but the organizers had left
the afternoon clear for the opening bouts of the Melee competition. Everyone was
excited to attend that particular event.

After Malcius’s first match, he had about ten minutes to
recover before he faced Hespion. He had done well against his first opponent,
disarming him without acquiring a single scratch. He walked over to retrieve his
waterskin and drank deeply. He paced back and forth and stretched his limbs to
keep warm and limber. As Malcius bent down to touch his toes, he swayed forward
and collided with the ground. Thoroughly embarrassed, he shook his head, but
the arena refused to stop spinning when he stopped. At least, he thought he
stopped. Was he still shaking his head? He did not think so. Malcius pushed
himself to his feet and stumbled into the wall.
Where did that come from?
Surely it had been several feet away before he fell.

Most of the companions’ attention was on Waylen who was
facing off against his first opponent of the day. Rezkin was the first to
notice Malcius stumbling around. He leaned over Tieran’s shoulder and quietly
asked, “Do you have that antidote I gave you in case you were poisoned?”

“Yes, why?” Tieran asked, suddenly alert.

Rezkin nodded in Malcius’s direction, and Tieran spied his
friend just as Malcius stumbled over his own feet and face-planted in the dirt
for the second time. Both men leapt up and descended to the edge of the arena
nearest Malcius. Rezkin kept an eye on his friend as he motioned for Tieran to
give him the packet of antidote. It was no coincidence that Malcius was
suddenly bumbling around like a drunkard when he was about to compete against
one of their primary suspects in the attempted poisoning of Tieran.

The two men slipped over the wall and landed beside Malcius
who was nearly unconscious by that point. They dragged him over to the wall and
propped him up with his legs splayed haphazardly and his eyes unfocussed and
listless. Rezkin ordered Tieran to grab a waterskin – not the one
belonging to Malcius – while he tilted the young man’s head back and
poured the bitter powder into his mouth. Malcius sputtered and attempted to
spit out the antidote, but Rezkin held his mouth shut with a firm hand under
his jaw. Tieran skidded to a stop beside his friend and poured water into
Malcius’s mouth until the young man had swallowed several mouthfuls.

One of the officials and a healer approached just as Tieran
was stoppering the waterskin. “What is going on here?” the official asked with
more than a little accusation in his voice.

“Is that young man alright?” the healer questioned with a
bit more concern. She was a middle-aged woman of average height with a
voluptuous figure and mousy brown hair. Her stern countenance was only softened
by the worry that showed in her grey eyes.

Tieran opened his mouth to speak, but Rezkin interrupted.
“It is nothing – a combination of heat and nerves. He will be well in a
moment.”

The woman pushed forward and bent to check the young noble.
Malcius sat with his head laid back and eyes closed, but his breathing was
becoming more even, and he was no longer slumping to one side. The healer used
her thumb to pull back each of his eyelids and checked his pulse. Malcius found
that he was finally able to focus enough to see the woman’s face. He would have
startled at the close proximity of the stranger had he the energy and
wherewithal to do so. She laid her hands on the sides of his face, and he felt
a sudden rush of warmth and a tingling sensation flow through his limp body.

The woman gasped and stood abruptly. She rounded on the two
men who had been accosting the young competitor. “This young man has been
poisoned!”

The official started and stepped forward quickly as though
to apprehend one or both of the men, but the woman held her arm out to stop the
man. “I cannot determine the type of poison with such a brief examination, but
I can see that he has already been given an antidote. It works quickly.
Explain.”

The world would not stop spinning, and Malcius was certain
his skin was being scorched over a roasting spit while his insides were
quivering as though he had plunged into an icy lake. The young noble lurched to
the side and vomited on the packed dirt. Rezkin caught Tieran’s eye and said,
“Give him the other packet. I am afraid he just lost some of what we gave him.”
Tieran’s eyes darted between the official and the healer, but when it became
apparent neither would stop him, he moved to do Rezkin’s bidding.

The healer frowned down at the two young men and then
returned her attention to Rezkin, who was obviously in charge. “Who are you and
what is going on here?”

Rezkin bowed slightly and said, “The man on the ground over there
is Malcius Jebai. The one tending to him is Tieran Nirius of Wellinven, and I
am Rezkin, Master Healer of the Mundane. Lord Malcius was indeed poisoned, but
I have administered the antidote. He will be well enough in a few moments.”

The woman crossed her arms and raised a skeptical brow. “
You
are a Master Healer? You are not old enough to be a healer, much less a master;
and you certainly do not look like a healer.”

“I should say not,” the official added. He was a stout,
balding man with broad shoulders and thick arms. He was built like a boulder
but covered in enough hair below the neck to be mistaken for a bear. “Are you a
competitor?” he asked Rezkin, his gruff voice carrying over the noise of the
crowd in a boisterous grumble. This man spoke from the gut as though he was
used to delivering speeches or bellowing orders. Based on his appearance and
carriage, Rezkin would say it was the latter. “You are not wearing an arm band,
yet you show up here carrying
two
swords into the arena during the
competition.”

“I am not competing in this competition,” Rezkin replied. “I
was tending to my charge,” he said as he motioned to the young man who was now
sitting up on his own.

The healer narrowed her eyes and said, “What was the poison
and what did you give him to counteract it?”

“It was triania extract, and I gave him a solument powder
mixture,” Rezkin replied.

The skeptical woman fisted her hands on her hips and asked,
“Why did you not give him terandian root oil?”

Rezkin furrowed his brow as though confused, even though he
knew the woman was testing him. “Why would I give him that? Terandian root oil
is used to treat wyrmwood poisoning, and if I
had
given it to him, it
would have reacted badly with the triania and probably killed him.”

A look of surprise passed across the woman’s face for only a
second, and then she pursed her lips and asked, “Where did you purchase the
solument powder?”

“I made it myself,” Rezkin replied.

The healer scoffed but asked, “How much powdered caerdom did
you use?”

Rezkin rolled his eyes as if the notion was ridiculous,
which it was. “You know as well as I that caerdom is not used in making
solument powder. If you are satisfied with your little test, may we move on? It
seems that one of us should be checking on the patient, especially since he is
to compete in a few moments.”

The official and the healer both sputtered and gasped. “The
man was just poisoned. He cannot compete in his condition,” the healer argued.

Rezkin shook his head and said, “Perhaps we should ask him?”

Tieran had helped Malcius to his feet, and the young man was
attempting to shake off the effects of the poisoning and warm his muscles again
by bending and bouncing. When he noticed everyone staring at him, he stopped
and nodded to the official and healer. “I am okay, now, I think. It seems to
have passed. I do not feel as hale as I did earlier, but I am not going to let
it keep me out of the competition.”

The official and the healer both wore astonished
expressions, each a mixture of disapproval and awe. “You could not possibly
have recovered so quickly,” the woman said in disbelief.

Malcius simply shrugged as though completely unconcerned. In
reality he was reeling from his experience. Everything had happened so quickly.
In less than ten minutes he had gone from the excited rush and anticipation of
competition to a horribly miserable state of intoxication and loss of faculties
and then back again just as quickly. Because of the attempted poisoning of
Tieran, he knew full well that it was his next opponent who had poisoned him,
and he was determined to see the man put down – at least as far as the
competition was concerned. Malcius told himself not to worry about the
consequences to his health from the poisoning. He had complete faith in Rezkin,
and if Rezkin thought he could compete, then he was damn well going to compete.

Rezkin walked over to his friend and, much to the young
noble’s embarrassment, scoured every inch of Malcius’s body looking for needles
or powders. When he found nothing, he retrieved Malcius’s waterskin and sniffed
its contents. Unfortunately, triania extract had little or no smell, so he
could not tell if the water had been contaminated. The warrior handed the
waterskin to the healer who stared at it questioningly. The woman then waved at
a mage who was standing not far away keeping an eye on the competition and
Malcius’s group at the same time. As the young woman approached, Rezkin
recognized her as Nanessy Threll, the elemental mage who had examined the black
blade while Rezkin was posing as Dark Tidings. Just as before, she wore mage
robes with red and blue panels indicating her affinity for both fire and water.

“Mage Threll,” the healer said, “would you assist me in an
examination of this water? The young lord, here, has been poisoned, and we are
looking for the source.”

Nanessy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Of course, Healer
Jespia. Which one did you say was poisoned?” the younger woman asked eyeing the
men before her.

Jespia turned to indicate the young man who had suffered so
terribly a few moments ago, but he was already halfway to the center of the
field to meet his opponent. “That one,” she said, her voice filled with
disapproval as she pointed at the man in question.

“Oh, ah, with all due respect, Healer Jespia, if he has just
been poisoned should he not be receiving treatment or resting?” Nanessy
questioned with concern.