Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) (41 page)

The relief and gratitude on Azmei's face made him uncomfortable. He looked back down at the fire. "And I don't want your brother to die. You and Hawk like him, and that means he's worth liking."

"Thank you." Hawk's voice was quiet and Yar couldn't read any emotion in it. Hawk was scary, even though Yar liked him.

"What will you do?" Azmei said.

Yar shrugged. "I think I'd better come with you. And Xellax will. And Rexiel wants to come, though he won't say why. They'll come whether or not any of the others do. But they will. She'll talk them around."

Azmei nodded and went still. Yar looked up and realized the dragons had approached. Xellax led them, but Vetterix, Xerin, Rexiel, and Inlux came too. Darixu brought up the rear, and his wings were folded tightly against his back. Yar wasn't sure how he knew, but Darixu had been overruled, and he didn't like it. But he accepted it, and that was all Yar needed.

"Very well," he translated as Darixu spoke into his head. "Six dragons will accompany you. These five, and another who has volunteered. I will remain here to guard the Shrouded Vale. Should you tell anyone where we hide, it will go ill."

"I wouldn't tell anyone," Azmei said. "Why would I wish you ill? You have agreed to help me."

Darixu lowered his head and didn't reply.

"You won't be able to take the horses," Inlux told Yar. "They won't allow us to carry them. It would fright them to death."

Xellax looked slyly at Yar. "We could eat them."

Yar glared at her. "Not funny," he said, and then realized from the puzzled expressions on Hawk and Azmei's faces that he hadn't translated. "We can't take the horses," he said. "What do we do?"

Hawk deliberated. "Turn them loose here in the Vale. They have plenty of grass, water, and shelter. They'll be fine until we can return for them, whenever that may be."

"They will be safe here," Xellax assured Yar. "Why would anyone eat horse when there is venison aplenty?" The lofty tone of her voice in his head denied that she had ever suggested eating Firefoot.

Yar gulped. He hadn't thought about leaving Firefoot behind. "I'll have to say goodbye to Firefoot," he mumbled.

"Very well," Xellax told him. "Say your farewells. When the sun is full overhead, we fly."

Chapter 29

Razem stared down at the map of the city, wanting to weep for each red stone that marked spots where fighting had broken out. "Father, I've let you down," he whispered.

A red stone at each of the city gates, because the city guard had barred the gates from the inside and out. They barred entry and exit, and Razem could only pray that his cousin Lady Ilzi had already left the city. If none of the rest of them survived this, at least she could be safe. But then, if Arisanat won, Razem knew he would execute Ilzi and all her family. He wouldn't be able to let any blood relatives of the Corrone live, not after this.

A red stone at the docks, also held by the city guard. That had to be Razem's next objective. If he could free the docks and send a ship to Salishok for aid—but that was a big if. And who could tell if there would be any loyal ship captains left? Arisanat would be a fool if he hadn't secured the docks for himself, and Arisanat was anything but a fool.

Then again
, whispered a little voice,
Venra was the strategist, not Arisanat.
That gave him some hope. Not much, because Birona was shrewd enough to make up for Arisanat's lack. But at least it gave Razem a chance.

"What does it say about a king, that his nobles rebel against him less than a week into his reign?" he muttered to himself.

There was another red stone marking the family homes of Burojan, Birona, Belnat, and Talt. Razem didn't know for certain that there was fighting at all of them, but certainly there had been fighting at Arisanat's home. The guards who managed to escape after the arrest went wrong reported that he had slain several guards and taken Ysdra captive, wounding him in the process. Razem had been watching Kho carefully since that announcement; there had been no ransom demand for Ysdra, and Razem feared there wouldn't be. Insurrectionists couldn't afford to allow for ransoms.

Footsteps rang on the floor behind him. "Add a red stone to the guild section," Kho said. "Burojan's troops have taken it handily. And still no word of Ysdra." He stared down at the map, his brown face haggard. "I fear for him, my lord," he murmured.

"As do I." Razem rubbed his forehead, trying to dispel the headache that had nagged at him since Aris' rebellion. "Lady Tarra's warning may not have come in time." He couldn't help resenting her for keeping her silence for so long before coming to him. He understood why, and he wasn't petty enough to punish her for it, but he still wished she had told him about the rebellion sooner.

"We'll have to make the best of it," Kho said.

Razem nodded. His whole body ached for sleep. He wanted the tiny luxury of sitting on his balcony with a glass of wine at sunset, and then a full night to spend asleep in his bed. Instead, he knew he faced another night of pacing around the war room, eating on his feet and stealing snatches of sleep in his chair. He must be available to Kho at all times.

"Any response to the messages we sent to Lord Daix and Lady Riman?" The nobles who were in the royal palace when Arisanat attacked had been required to stay, both for their own protection and to prevent them from joining the insurrection. Razem had not seen any way to keep the news from them, nor had he seen any benefit to hiding the news from them.

Lady Tel and her daughters and sons were all within the royal palace; they had closed their house in the city after Lord Tel's death, removing to their estate except when Lady Tel was needed for Council. Razem had offered them apartments in the palace for Marsede's funeral and they had planned to remain through Razem's coronation.

Lord Restin was also within, as was Lord Daix's wife and heir. No one knew where Lord Daix and his younger son and daughter were, however, and Razem feared the worst.

"Only that Lady Riman will aid us," Kho replied. "Nothing from Daix. I have a report that there are archers in the area near the homes of lesser nobles."

"Damn." As one of the Nine, Daix was entitled to one of the mansions in the Family District, but they had only risen to Ninth a handful of generations ago, and they had never moved the household. Razem wondered now if that was because they lacked ambition, or because they preferred the privacy and distance from the other Families.

"Just so, majesty."

"What about Ilzi? Is it still unknown whether her retinue made it outside the city?"

"No one knows. I will keep my men searching." Kho was standing very straight. Razem could tell he was ashamed of his failure, but Razem had no time for recriminations.

"I must see for myself," he said, his impatience finally boiling over. "Let us inspect the walls. I can't stand to stay pent up in here, Emran."

Kho's expression said he understood, but didn't like it. "Majesty, if they should test the palace walls again—"

"They inevitably will," Razem interrupted. "And I will be there if they do. I would encourage my soldiers, and thank them for their service."

Kho sighed and bowed.

As they made their way through the palace, Razem was all too aware of the healers bustling along passages, carrying bandages and healing unguents in preparation for receiving the wounded. In the passage to the chapel, he saw families gathered, waiting for comfort from the clerics. Razem couldn't ignore the fear singing silently through the hallways. He summoned a page and gave orders that the evening meal in the great hall should be open to all who were sheltering within the palace walls. The page nodded smartly and trotted off to convey the orders.

When they reached the defenses, the soldiers lining the wall cheered him. It was all Razem could do not to stare. Why did they revere him? Why did they care at all? What had he done to inspire loyalty? He'd been a poor prince, the past three years. He'd stomped around in a temper, drinking too much and fighting too much, and frankly, as much as Aris' betrayal hurt, he wasn't sure he could even blame him.

It should have been Azmei here in front of them,
he thought.
She at least deserved their loyalty. She could command their love.

"But I'm all they have," he whispered, and straightened his shoulders, looking at the soldiers with pride on his face and in his bearing.

"My loyal soldiers!" he cried. "We are being tested, but I swear I shall stand with you and fight beside you. We will pass this test!"

They cheered again, but they were restless, and he knew he must find something else to say. "I know you are angry," he said, pitching his voice to carry. "I, too, am angry. I know you are hurt at this betrayal." He looked around at them and saw nodding heads. "I, too, am hurt at this betrayal." What now? How could he inspire them? He licked his lips. "But I tell you now: I would rather have no other men and women to fight beside me than you! This palace guard is made up of the most valiant fighters, the most loyal soldiers, the bravest men and women that we could find! I am proud to call you my companions!"

This time the cheer went on and on, and Razem smiled at them, holding out his hands, arms spread wide as if he would embrace them all. They pressed forward, each of them wanting to meet his eyes, to touch his hand. He obliged as many as he could, giving a smile to everyone, nodding his head, allowing them to tug at his sleeve and pat his shoulder. It felt almost as if they were sucking energy away from him, but it was worth it, if it gave them new heart.

Finally the press thinned and Razem and Kho were standing alone on a parapet overlooking the city to the north. In the street below, a makeshift barricade stretched from building to building. It was made of boards and cobbles torn up from the street and packing crates that had been torn apart. In one spot, a fruit vendor's cart, still half-full of produce, had been rolled into place to fill a gap, and rubble had been piled against it on either side. The barricade was bristling with pikes and spears and halberds. Razem stared at it, feeling as if someone had punched him in the gut.

"Majesty." Kho's voice was quiet. "You have given them courage. It was well done. But I beg you, return to the palace."

Razem shook his head.

"At least take shelter inside one of the guard towers," Kho urged.

"When dark falls, perhaps," Razem said. "But for now, I must be here, with them." He squinted. "What is that smoke there?"

Kho strained in the direction Razem had pointed. His shoulders slumped. "It looks like a warehouse is on fire, majesty. I believe Lady Riman owns that block of buildings."

Razem had opened his mouth to speak when a ruckus below caught his attention. He looked down and saw that a small force of armed men was attacking the barricade. "The king!" shouted the attackers. "The king!"

Whether they meant to fight for him, or whether they were calling for his blood, Razem wasn't sure. He peered down. "Is that Ilzi's standard?" His heart jumped and he coughed against the tightness in his chest.

"A white dove, majesty." Kho's voice was grim.

Razem swallowed against a rush of bile. She was sixteen. Sixteen and not even betrothed yet. "Order a sally," he whispered. "The palace guard will ride out to assist her."

"It could be a ruse," Kho began, but Razem cut him off.

"I will not abandon my cousin to them!" he snapped.

Kho saluted smartly and ran to shout orders. Razem leaned on the parapet, bent forward so his chest rested against the sun-warmed stone. He couldn't tell at first if he was being obeyed, and then he saw the gates swing slowly open, just enough to let out a column of soldiers, two riders abreast. As soon as the horses were out, pikemen on foot went out to defend the retreat, and the gates crashed shut again.

Despite his fear, Razem had a sudden wish to be out there with them, wielding his sword in his own defense instead of relying on men and women he had probably never met. He strained to see what was happening, until he heard a whizzing noise. He jerked back and a crossbow bolt shattered against the stone near where his hand had been pressed.

"I beg you, do not make yourself a target!" Kho hissed, dragging him back from the parapet and into a crouch. "We will need you when this is over, my lord."

"Tell me what is happening," Razem said, then shook his head as Kho began to stand. "No, wait—don't make yourself a target either, Emran. I can't win this without you."

Kho rocked back on his heels and regarded him. "I believe you would, Majesty. You have already begun to grow into your title. Your anger has gone."

"Not gone," Razem corrected tiredly. "It is still there, my friend. But I am angry for the right reasons now, I hope. And angry at the right people." He sighed and rested his head back against the stone. "All the same, I would far rather have your counsel than not."

Kho nodded and crouched there for a moment more, then lifted his head. "You there, sergeant! What is happening?"

The woman he had hailed peeked over the wall, then dashed to them. "The Lady Ilzi and her soldiers are winning through, sir!" She stuck her head out again and ducked back. "The barricade has been breached in one spot. She will carry it!"

They could hear cheers from the soldiers on the ground, and a few minutes later, someone shouted up from inside the wall. "General! May we open to admit Lady Ilzi and the sally?"

"Open!" Kho bellowed, and the gates creaked open again. Ilzi's troops and those of the palace guard who had come to her aid pounded into the courtyard, washed on the cheers of the victorious. Kho jumped to his feet and looked over the wall, then helped Razem stand.

"Look, my lord," he urged.

Razem peered down through the lengthening shadows to see the barricade shattered, one part of it smoldering from an overturned brazier. Dead soldiers littered the ground on either side of it. Razem closed his eyes and breathed out a long sigh. He was grateful beyond measure that his young cousin was well, and that his side had won the skirmish. But he couldn't help mourning for the treacherous dead as well as the loyal. They had been misled, and though they might well have been executed anyway, he was grieved at their deaths.

He started down the steps to meet the new troops. The mounted warriors in the courtyard circled their horses around a slight figure in half-plate armor, a wimple wrapped around her head and a circlet helm over it rather than a full helm. She grinned up at Razem as he leaned over the stairs. Her face was smudged and she looked very young and very alive.

"Cousin!" she called up, "I bring you succor! We have few enough soldiers, but they are yours, as is my sword!"

Tears rushed into Razem's eyes so he had to wipe them away before he negotiated the rest of the stairs. When he reached the bottom, Ilzi was off her horse, straightening the split skirt of her tunic. Razem caught her in his arms, armor and all, and swung her in a circle. Ilzi shrieked with laughter, then remembered her dignity and struggled to be set down.

"Lady Ilzi, the gods bless you and your family," he said, grinning down at her. He had never wanted to see it come to this, but he couldn't deny that he was grateful she had come to his aid.

Feet pounded towards them from across the courtyard. "Majesty! They are attacking the wall to the west of here!"

Kho gave Razem a pleading look. "Majesty," he whispered, "please let me deal with this. Take yourself to safety, have supper brought for you and the lady, and be safe."

Razem lowered his voice and leaned in. "Only if you swear to be safe yourself, Emran," he murmured. Then he raised his voice so everyone could hear. "Cousin, come with me to the war room," he told Ilzi. "Bring your captain. General Kho, see to this new threat, then return to us there."