Reign of Madness (Revised Edition) (63 page)

The other woman simply shrugged her understanding. All of
this conversation was too far beyond her. These nobles all seemed to expect
that other people would make decisions for everyone else.

Frisha continued, “What if he doesn’t
want
to provide
her with a sizeable dowry?”

Yserria thought that, at least, was most certainly a fair
question. She never would have considered taking any money from another person
without earning it in some way, but these nobles acted as though it was simply
expected.

“I could not take money I did not earn,” Yserria protested.

“What exactly do you expect to do to earn such a sum?” Palis
asked in exasperated concern.

Yserria scowled at Palis’s insinuation but said, “I am not
without skills. I could act as a guard for the illustrious Lord Rezkin if need
be.”

“An excellent proposition, that!” Kai barked. “One more
Swordmaster to the entourage. We will have a proper Guard in no time,” he said with
a grin.

Rezkin nearly groaned as understanding dawned. Kai was
trying to build a
Royal Guard
. He wanted to train new strikers loyal to
Rezkin, and he was recruiting. It had all been a setup. The man was cunning,
but the suggestion was not without merit.

“I will discuss the matter with Mistress Yserria in
private,” the young warrior said. “Where is Journeyman Wesson?” he asked
looking around for the young man in question.

“I believe he’s at our inn,” Frisha said with surprised
reluctance.

Frisha was torn on the whole matter of Rezkin acting as
Yserria’s guardian. On the one hand, she thought Palis’s proposal was immensely
romantic, and she was proud of her cousin for overcoming his poor opinion of
commoners. She could not believe he was willing to give up his title for the
relatively unknown woman. On the other, Yserria was quite beautiful. She had
the countenance of a warrior queen, one who would fit perfectly with the
handsome warrior that was Rezkin. If Rezkin served as Yserria’s guardian, he
would be able to spend time with her –
private
time. He would also
be able to reject any potential suitors and keep her to himself, even if it was
considered bad form.

Frisha pushed that line of thought aside. Rezkin would never
do such a thing. But, he was apparently considering putting out a large sum of
money on the woman’s behalf. Surely he would want something in return, and she
knew Rezkin certainly did not need a bodyguard. She was becoming upset that she
did not know enough about her intended to understand why he had the authority
to act as
anyone’s
guardian.

After several moments of thought, Rezkin caught the
swordswoman’s green-eyed gaze and said, “You must understand, Mistress Yserria,
that if you accept someone as your guardian, he will be so for the rest of your
life until you are wed. He will have the authority to approve or reject any
courtship or marriage contract. He would tell you where, when and with whom you
may do anything. He may decide what positions of employment you may acquire, if
any, and if certain activities are unbecoming of a lady.” This last he said
with a glance toward the sword hilt at her hip, and Yserria’s face blanched
paler than her normally alabaster skin.

The warrior continued, “You could, of course, reject your
guardian’s authority and marry a commoner, but you would still be indebted to
the guardian if he has spent any sum on money on your behalf. In addition,
everyone within the upper classes, merchant and noble Houses, alike, would
still recognize your guardian’s authority and would not consider you for
marriage or employment except through him. Also, if you are a worshiper of the
Maker, as I know most Leréshis to be,
the priests recognize the authority of the guardian, as well. You would
essentially be giving up your freedom in hopes that the man you accepted as
your guardian had your best interests in mind.”

“Your guardian could even reject Palis,” Brandt said with a
teasing grin. Palis’s face paled, and his eyes darted to his friend, Rezkin,
with trepidation. Rezkin thought the unasked question ridiculous, so he ignored
it.

Yserria scowled and said, “The entire notion is absurd. You
expect me to give up my freedom to some strange man so that I could
potentially
marry another man I just met?”

Kai was obviously unhappy that Rezkin had undermined his
machinations with his honest disclosure. “You would be essentially adopting
yourself out, and the guardian would act as your surrogate father. If he
accepted, he would even be required to provide for you. It is no different.”

“Except that I am a grown woman, and my father is dead. I do
not know any other men well enough to believe they have my best interest in
mind,” Yserria protested.

“Rezkin is an honorable man. He is also compassionate and
caring, and if any man could serve as your guardian, it would be he,” Frisha
said, not believing what just came out of her mouth. It was her natural
instinct to defend him, but she had not meant to encourage the proposed
relationship.

“I am sorry. What exactly is your relationship with Lord Rezkin?”
Yserria ventured. She had caught on to several remarks and undertones that
something was going on between the two.

“Rezkin is attempting to gain my guardian’s approval for a
Prime Courtship,” Frisha stated with pride.

“Prime Courtship?” the young woman inquired with confusion.
Frisha briefly explained the strange notion to the other woman who only ended
up even more overwhelmed at the completely foreign concept that surrounded the
relationships of the nobility.

“You said he is
attempting
this?” Yserria asked with
suspicion.

Frisha’s cheeks flushed as she replied, “My uncle rejected
his proposal.”

The woman’s eyes widened as she exclaimed, “Your own
guardian believes him to be unsuitable for
you
, but I am supposed to
give myself to him?”

“What? NO!” Palis protested.

Yserria flushed and waived her hand in the air saying, “For
guardianship
,
I mean.”

“He is not unsuitable!” Frisha yelled as she slammed her
hand on the table.

“Of course, none of this matters if you are not a maiden,”
Brandt interjected with a vicious grin.

Malcius groaned and buried his head as Palis threatened to
beat Brandt senseless. Yserria turned nearly as red as her hair as she
sputtered, “Not that it should matter, but it is not a concern. I have never
been close enough to a man to be intimate.”

Palis looked back at her wide-eyed and asked, “What do you
mean, it should not matter?”

Yserria frowned. “I find it hard to believe that any of
you
have not enjoyed a woman’s company by now,” she directed at the men. “It should
not be any different for women. Besides, in Lon Lerésh women are free to pursue any physical relationship they
please
without
the consent of any guardian or promise of marriage. A
woman’s state of maidenhood has no bearing on her value there. If anything,
women are encouraged to learn as much of the arts of pleasure as possible. They
understand that such things are a form of power over men.”

Now flustered, Tieran said, “Again, you are not in Lon Lerésh. Palis, are you certain
this
is
the woman you wish to pursue?”

Rezkin thought the concept interesting. He had learned of
the customs of Lon Lerésh but did not
truly appreciate them before he came to know outworlders. Real social
interactions were new to him, everything prior to leaving the fort having been
simulations and academic exercises. He knew that many considered intimacy to be
a type of
Skill
, the Leréshi,
in particular; but his masters had always discouraged the practice. They
claimed it was too much of a risk to find oneself in such a vulnerable
position,
especially
with someone with similar sentiments to those of
Lon Lerésh. In addition, they had
always warned him against developing personal feelings for those with whom one
found intimacy. The masters’ lesson against intimacy had been brutal.

Tieran, Malcius and Palis were arguing amongst themselves
when Yserria finally spoke again. “What does this guardian gain from the deal?”

It was Brandt who answered, as the other three were too
flustered to formulate a coherent response. “It is in the guardian’s best
interest to procure a profitable deal with the greatest House possible. While
he may spend money supporting you and paying for your dowry, he seeks to gain
even greater profit through business deals associated with the marriage
contract, in addition to gaining favor with the bridegroom’s House. Most
guardians in this situation will attempt to make deals quickly so as to limit
their expenses. They will only allow for more time if they are certain to gain
a greater deal.”

“He’s like a marriage broker?” Tam asked, finally
understanding the motivations. He remembered the concept from his lessons with
Frisha’s father.

“You make it sound like women are property,” Yserria
remarked.

Brandt shrugged and unapologetically said, “To him, you
are
.”

“How is
that
in my best interest?” Yserria argued.

“He will attempt to join you with the greatest House and for
the most money possible. If he is very good, your social standing could
dramatically increase. Of course,
any
noble House would be an
improvement for a commoner,” Brandt explained.

“So when you say he will have my best interests in mind, you
are only speaking in terms of finances and social status. What of love? What
about happiness? What about ensuring that I even
like
the man?” Yserria
questioned.

Brandt shrugged and said, “Unimportant.”

Rezkin abruptly stood and said, “Mistress Yserria, would you
please join me at my inn to discuss matters in private. I will ask Tieran, Kai,
and Tam to join us, and we will meet Journeyman Wesson there. Although it may
appear unseemly for a woman to be alone in the company of so many men, I am
afraid I must insist that no one else join us.”

“What about
me
?” Palis exclaimed.

“I apologize, Palis, but you cannot be present for this
discussion. Palis’s facial features screwed up in confusion, suspicion, anger,
disappointment, and acceptance all in a matter of seconds. A similar scenario
played across Frisha’s features, as well. Rezkin forced his face into a smile
and winked at the young woman as he had seen men do on occasion. Frisha’s face
flushed, and she smiled demurely, so he decided he must have performed the
action correctly.

Yserria glanced around at the others, but no one seemed
concerned. Palis nodded his reassurance, and Frisha appeared to be mildly
pouting. Yserria did not like the idea of being in a room at an inn with a
group of strange men. Rezkin was handsome, charismatic, well spoken, and
relatively quiet, but something about him set her on edge. She had a similar
feeling around the man named Kai, but he was quite easy to read with his gruff,
forthright nature. He was warrior through and through, and would probably be
just as comfortable sitting around in blood and gore soaked armor in the middle
of the common room. Rezkin, however, was like an exquisitely sculpted angel
guardian, but just beneath the surface lurked a darkness, a demon biding its
time. He was a killer, she was sure of it. Her father had always told her to
listen to her instincts, and her instincts were screaming at her loud and clear
with regard to the young man.

Still, she really did like Palis. His declaration that he
would give up his title and wealth for her had nearly stolen her heart then and
there. As much as she protested the ridiculousness of the courting ritual, she
could not force herself to walk away. She wanted to at least know all of her
options before completely discounting the opportunity, and it
was
an
opportunity. If Palis’s father
did
approve the union, she would
definitely be stepping up in the world. As far as she could tell, though, the
potential for things to go wrong was immense.

Once back at the inn, Rezkin wrangled Wesson into providing
the sound barriers while he allowed the others to make their case about why Rezkin
was the rightful king. He would not even consider acting as the woman’s
guardian without informing her of the kind of danger that came with knowing
him. It took some time, but the mage and Tieran were able to convince Yserria
that they spoke truth. The sight of the Sheyalins may have had some affect on
her acceptance.

“So,
you
are this True King from the rumors?” she
asked skeptically. “Earlier this evening I heard a rumor that Dark Tidings was
the True King.”

“Where did you hear that?” Kai asked curiously.

“Over in the lower merchant quarter,” the swordswoman
replied.

Kai stroked his beard and nodded approvingly. “It made it
all the way there in less than an hour. I am impressed.”

“What do you mean?” Yserria asked.

“Well, the rumor had to start somewhere,” the man said as he
spread his hands.

“You are spreading the rumors yourselves?” she asked in
surprise.

“Of course. We need the people to know the truth, even if we
are not quite ready to expose ourselves. Dark times are upon us. People will
need hope, and we will need support,” the striker remarked.

“What of this Dark Tidings? Is he in on it, too, or are you
just using him as a scapegoat in case things go badly?” the woman inquired.

Rezkin reached under his bed and drew out a sword blacker
than night with fractured lines deep inside that glinted green in the
lamplight.

Yserria’s jaw dropped at the sight. “You?
You
are
Dark Tidings?”

“Why? Why would you tell me this? You know I could turn you
all in,” Yserria said, her voice wavering. She knew now, beyond a doubt, that
she could not win any fight against these men – not with Dark Tidings.

“You cannot turn us in because even knowing what you know
would mean a death sentence for you,” Rezkin remarked. “You seem well-versed in
the politics of Lon Lerésh, so you
should understand this. You have been chosen by our side, and our opponents
will not suffer your existence, whether you agree with us or not. You will
forever been seen as compromised. In addition, they will do anything to keep
others from learning the truth, including silencing you. As for me, I do not
condone the killing of innocent people; but this is war, and now that you know
the truth, you must choose a side.”

It was just her luck. She had agreed to have lunch with a
sweet, young noble, and now she was in the middle of a war she previously did
not know existed. They were allowing her the chance to choose, but she did not
think they would allow her to leave the room alive if she chose to side against
them. There was only one matter that truly concerned her, though.

“What of Duke Ytrevius? What are your intentions toward
him?” she asked, not truly expecting an honest answer.

“He will die horribly for his crimes,” Rezkin said without
remorse.

Yserria’s eyes widened, and her lips pursed. “Then I choose
to serve the True King.”

“What? That is it?” Tieran scoffed. “You want one man dead,
and for that you are willing to turn over your allegiance?”

“It is what you wanted, is it not?” the woman argued.

“Yes, but allegiance given so easily is hardly an allegiance
to trust,” the noble rebuked.

“It is not so easily given,” the woman snapped. “I have
listened to your case and believe you speak truth. Do you think my commoner
mind is too simple to understand that Ashai is in trouble? We all know it, and
everybody wants to know why the king doesn’t do something to fix it. I, like
most people, did not realize it was the king causing the problems.”

“And Ytrevius?” Tieran asked.

“I am certain he killed my father – or had him
killed,” the young woman said. “My father was employed as a guard at Ytrevius’s
estate. He came home one night very upset. He said he had discovered something
terrible and that we needed to leave the island. He left to make arrangements
and never returned. His body was found the next day in a gulley off the road.
Everyone said he’d been drunk and stumbled into the ditch, but I know it for a
lie. My father never drank more than an ale with dinner.”

“I believe we know the secret for which your father died,
and it is something with which you can help us,” Rezkin stated.

The group spent the next short while explaining what they
discovered at the duke’s estate. Yserria was furious and vowed to do anything
in her power to take the man down. Having decided to throw in her lot with these
strange people, she swore fealty to the True King then and there. Rezkin
accepted her oath and offered to serve as her guardian in return. Even though
she had already sworn fealty to the man, somehow accepting his guardianship was
more difficult. She still hated the idea that any man would have such power
over her life, but her fealty pretty much already ensured that.

Because it was so late by the time the comrades were
finished discussing plans, Rezkin asked that Frisha and Reaylin share their
room with the woman. Reaylin had finally reappeared just before the inn locked
their doors and was ecstatic to meet the famous swordswoman. Frisha was less
enthusiastic about the arrangement, but she begrudgingly admitted it had more
to do with her growing irritation and anxiety over being excluded from Rezkin’s
secrets. It seemed that his whole life was secrets, and she was not a part of
it.

The following morning, Dark Tidings appeared at the arena
just before the Melee rounds began. Rezkin’s companions found optimal seating
near the center of the field. It was strange for Yserria to see Dark Tidings
again, knowing now the face behind the mask. She had expected that if the
wraith ever revealed himself, the mysticism and innate fear he invoked would
dissipate once she could see that he truly was just a man. Knowing that Dark
Tidings was Rezkin somehow seemed even more foreboding. Rezkin was no mere man.

Dark Tidings carried his usual cadre of weapons. His black
blade was strapped to his back. The strange weapons that they had learned were
called su’carai were at his hips, although he had yet to use them. The dark
warrior carried the naginata at his side in a strong grip. Everyone knew
several daggers were hidden about his person because he had drawn the smaller
weapons on occasion.

Fourteen combatants fought in the first round of the day.
Rezkin’s first opponent was the ax-wielding mountain man known as Chieftain
Gurell Yuold. Everyone was curious about the rugged giant on this day, because
he had not one, but two great axes strapped to his back. Not only was it
ridiculous, it was impossible for any man to wield
two
great axes. They
were, without a doubt, a two handed weapon that most men could barely lift,
much less hope to wield in battle. When the mountain man faced off with Dark
Tidings, though, his intentions were made clear. He unstrapped one weapon and
tossed it several paces short of the dark warrior.

“Let us be seeing if the Great Dark Tidings can be matching
the fierceness of a true mountain warrior,” the chieftain challenged, his voice
resonating through the stands by mage power.

Dark Tidings cocked his head in that disturbingly inhuman
way. Frisha’s breath caught, and, for a moment, the motion seemed familiar, but
the thought passed. Rezkin had probably picked up the odd behavior from his
master.

The dark wraith tossed the naginata aside and strode forward
to claim the great ax. Challenge accepted. The chieftain watched with a
satisfied grin as the mysterious opponent bent to lift the heavy weapon. Dark
Tidings hefted its massive bulk with ease and then strode back to his place
swinging the length of wood and steel several times to get a feel for the
weight and balance. He turned and bowed his head slightly toward his opponent.
The mountain warrior hollered a celebratory roar that was echoed by the
mountain men in the stands, and he banged a gauntleted fist against his
breastplate. A moment later, he charged at the dark warrior, a brilliant battle
cry bellowing from his throat.

Dark Tidings ducked the first swing and followed it up with
one of his own. The chieftain twisted out of the way and brought his weapon
around in a
whoosh
. It was a strange sort of dance with the combatants
swinging with all their might and dodging out of the way. Occasionally, one of
the combatants would choke up on the haft and take a partial swing, and at
other times, attempt a jab at the sternum with the heavy weapon.

Relating the chieftain’s behavior with the knowledge of
mountain man culture gained from his studies, Rezkin knew that anything less
than a debilitating wound would not satisfy the wild ax warrior. He did not
want to inflict so much damage that the healers could not repair the man,
though. Rezkin rather liked the outspoken mountain chieftain.

Eventually, Dark Tidings feinted and then unexpectedly swung
the blade low. The ax-warrior was unable to dodge in time, and the ax-head bit
deeply into the warrior’s hamstring. As the leg buckled, the dark warrior swung
the ax up and around bringing the monstrous weapon down toward the chieftain’s
head. With the severely injured leg, the other warrior’s balance was off, and
he could not get his own ax up in time to block the strike. With phenomenal
strength, Dark Tidings adjusted the trajectory and lodged the ax in the man’s
shoulder, smashing through muscle and bone. He pulled his blow as much as
possible to prevent the heavy ax from cleaving the man in two. It was not his
intention to kill the man.

The chieftain fell to the ground with the ax still lodged in
his torso. Dark Tidings approached and stared down at the man, just to make
sure he remained breathing until the healers could tend to him. After only a
few breaths, the motion of the man’s chest stopped. Rezkin frowned beneath the
mask. Perhaps he had killed the man after all. The wound was not immediately
fatal, but perhaps the shock of it had been too much.

He knelt beside the man and pressed his fingers to the pulse
at his throat. Rezkin glanced up to gauge the healers’ progress. It was the
heavy middle aged woman, Healer Jespia, who had investigated Malcius’s
poisoning, and a leaner young man whose gangly legs were getting tangled in his
robe. Dark Tidings shook his head. They were taking too long.

Placing his hands on the downed warrior’s chest he pounded
out a steady cadence in conjunction with his own heartbeat. A surge of battle
energy flowed through him with every compression. After a few aggressive
strikes in which the energy felt as though it jumped from Rezkin to the
mountain warrior, the dead man suddenly gasped, inhaling a most long-awaited
breath. He sputtered and coughed and sucked the air in greedily. Deep blue eyes
rolled around to take in the terrifying visage of the dark wraith. It took a
moment for the man to regain his senses and recognize the demon as his opponent.
By the time the healers finally arrived, the chieftain was already falling into
a pain filled delirium.

“What were you doing?” Healer Jespia heatedly questioned,
her voice echoing across the arena. “Why were you beating on him after he was
down?”

Dark Tidings cocked his head. The woman was forever accusing
him, Rezkin thought. At least she was doing it in defense of her patients,
though. He could respect her for that.

“His heart had stopped,” Dark Tidings answered in that most
disturbing voice. A chill swept through the captivated audience.

“I see,” the woman said, only a trickle of the hostility
bleeding away. “Well, it seems to be working now. Off with you.”

Dark Tidings bowed to the demanding healer and collected his
naginata, sliding it into a loop on his back. He then hefted both axes and
carried them to the edge of the stands nearest the mountain warriors. He held
the heavy weapons out for the men to collect, but they only took one –
the one
Rezkin
had used in the battle – leaving him with the chieftain’s
ax. Dark Tidings rested the massive ax against his shoulder as he walked back
to his place along the field perimeter.

Rezkin was not sure of the significance of his gift. If this
was a typical custom, it was not one that had been covered in his studies.
Perhaps they felt he had earned the ax in defeating its wielder. Perhaps they
simply wanted him to return it to its owner. He would have to find out more
about it when the ax-wielding chieftain returned from the healer’s tent.

The noise of the crowd was deafening. It was not cheers or
applause but continuous chatter.
Dark Tidings
and
True King
were
on every pair of lips, and now everyone was in a buzz over what had just
occurred in the arena. Of course, the crowd had heard the exchange between the
healer and the wraith, and everyone had an opinion to share. While most touted
his mercy and honor, others accused him of being weak and incapable of dealing
the death that was the foundation of his namesake.

Dark Tidings’ second opponent wielded two identical short
swords. Rezkin did not have two swords on him, so he simply fought with the
black blade. The man was talented, but not talented enough. Rezkin had heard
that some of the competitors had received offers of payment if they could score
even one hit on him. Of course, all of the combatants were already attempting
to do so, but some of the betting men thought the offer of additional coin
would make them try a little harder. The dual-blade wielder failed to collect
the bribe.

The final matchup of the round was by far the most
satisfying for Rezkin. It was against the mace-wielding Sandman who had
murdered the young Stavemaster. The beast had already attempted to end the life
of another competitor that morning. Dark Tidings did not even give the man a chance
to put on a show. As soon as the announcer finished speaking, he drew the black
blade, strode forward with purpose, and disarmed the man –
literally
.
After losing both appendages, the brute fell to his knees in shock.

While the healers were running to treat the man before he
bled out, Dark Tidings stood over the Sandman and said, “Bracken Freedon, of
the Isle of Sand, you have been judged and found guilty. Bring I to thee
King’s
Dark Tidings
.” The black blade came down in one fell swoop and took the man’s
head clean from his body. Green lightning crackled within the black sword’s
length, continuing to glow for more than a minute before the luminescence
finally faded.

Rezkin surveyed the arena. What was boisterous and
thunderous moments ago was now silent as a graveyard. The healers had stopped
their advance and simply stood with mouths agape. Their shared stunned
expression was reflected on nearly every face in the stands and among the
competitors. Dark Tidings wiped his blade on the Sandman’s pant leg and then
returned it to its scabbard. He strode toward the frozen healers. As he passed
Healer Jespia, he paused and said, “His heart has stopped, as well.”

The thinner man choked out a cough. Whether in disgust,
surprise or morbid humor, it was hard to say. The noise of the crowd began as a
chattering and gradually grew to a roar as the body parts were gathered and
carted from the field. Dark Tidings stood at the side of the arena awaiting the
start of the next round. Rezkin knew the officials would not attempt to charge
him with a crime. They had set a precedent when they failed to hold the Sandman
accountable for the young Stavemaster’s death, and Dark Tidings had just called
them out on their failure to uphold justice. Every person in attendance knew for
certain that this bout had been nothing less than an execution.