The Grand Crusade (75 page)

Resolute shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to. It was meant to get your attention. Now that I have it, I’ll kill you.”

Scrainwood snorted. “You’re bluffing. You want something. The red fragment, is that it?”

The Vorquelf drew his sword. “No, that I can find, thanks to Kerrigan, and I have a dragon to fly me there as he did here. Likewise, thanks to Kerrigan, you think I’m bluffing because that ring isn’t telling you I’m hostile.”

Scrainwood glanced at the ring as he yanked the weapon from his chest. Blood spurted, splashing over the ring, then the wound began to close. “This isn’t possible.”

“It is. The Vilwanese fixed the ring so it wouldn’t recognize me.” He lunged

and Syverce stabbed through the bloodstained rent in Scrainwood’s jerkin. The king backed away, trying to slide off the blade, but Resolute stayed with him and kept the blade buried as Scrainwood fell to the ground.

Resolute loomed over him. “It’s not just murder. Chytrine told her daughter that things were in place to continue her reign after her death. You were the best choice.” He shrugged and twisted the sword’s blade. “Not that I wouldn’t have killed you anyway, but now I won’t feel bad about enjoying it.”

Scrainwood opened his mouth, but blood instead of words poured forth.

The Vorquelf shook his head. “I’ll choose to assume your last words concerned not yourself but your heir. I’ll not leave your body here to be discovered. You’ll just vanish. Only you and I will know what happened. If you think your people are happy now, just imagine how joyously they will greet King Erlestoke.”

VILWAN

Kerrigan Reese’s arrival at Vilwan on the back of Vrüsuroel seemed to surprise everyone save for the Grand Magister. By the time he and Rymramoch had dismounted in the courtyard before the Grand Magister’s alabaster tower, two purple-robed Adepts Kerrigan had never seen before arrived and conducted the pair into the tower. They offered refreshment and bid them wait in an antechamber to the Council of Magisters.

As the two of them departed, Kerrigan smiled and glanced at his dragon mentor. “What would Resolute do?”

Rymramoch laughed and flicked a gloved hand toward the chamber’s massive bronze doors. They rippled and snapped like diaphanous drapes in a gale, then froze in that position, all twisted and wrapped halfway around the chamber columns nearest the door.

Kerrigan strode into the room and glanced around at the men and women gathered there. The circular chamber’s domed ceiling was upheld by twelve columns—one for each of the twelve divisions of the floor. Each of the eight magickal disciplines had its own section of the floor, from Combat to Conjuration, with two for the Grand Magister himself, and one each for the Magisters of Personnel and Suppression. None of them looked pleased to see him, though neither the Magister of Combat nor the Grand Magister let their discomfort register on their faces for more than a heartbeat.

The wizened old man who was the Grand Magister raised his open hands above his stooped shoulders. “We welcome your return to Vilwan, Adept Reese. Your efforts on our behalf have been noted and praised. We are inordinately proud of you.”

Kerrigan raked fingers back through his hair. “I’d ask you to forgive me for

what I’m about to say, but I really don’t care if you do or not. I’ve come from Oriosa. I did some investigating. I know about the Bloodmasks.“

The Magister of Suppression, a corpulent woman with grey hair, cleared her throat. “The Bloodmasks were not authorized by anyone here. That was Magister Tadurienne’s doing entirely. Once we learned of what she had done, she was returned here, tried, and sanctioned. She is dead.”

“Slain for her failure, no doubt, not her effort.” Kerrigan shook his head. “When I left here I might have been naive enough to believe you, but now I know better. A company of warmages doesn’t just wander off and commit murder and mayhem without someone here knowing about it. And the crowns, as they gather in Meredo, will hear about it. They will know Vilwan has dabbled in politics and allied itself with one of Chytrine’ssullanciri‘’

Suppression raised her hand. “Do not be hasty, Adept Reese. We have dealt with this matter. There is no need for you to share your insights with the crowns.”

Kerrigan shook his head. “You’re not listening to me. I don’t have to share it. Erlestoke already knows. The Addermages figured it out for themselves. They know and the crowns will know.”

The Grand Magister chuckled lightly. “But we will explain to them what they know, Kerrigan. Unbeknownst to us, Tadurienne had become a servant of Chytrine. She had a history with Heslin.”

“Neskartu.” The young mage nodded. “A mage you put in service to the Norringtons because you knew they were special even before the prophecy, yes? Someone saw something and you acted to control the Norrington bloodline?”

“We sought to safeguard it.”

Kerrigan’s eyes narrowed as a couple of facts connected themselves in his mind. “No, ‘control’ is the right word. I’ve talked with Crow. I know the truth of Kenwick Norrington’s bloodline. You prevented his father from being able to produce children, didn’t you? You sterilized him. And why? Because you saw far enough in advance to know that, if there was a Norrington, this day would come.”

The Magister of Clairvoyance shook his head. “And what day is that?”

“The day that changes Vilwan forever.”

The Magister of Conjuration snarled. “I told you twenty years ago that breeding our own hero to make the Norrington superfluous would not stave off disaster.”

“Disaster for whom?” Kerrigan pointed to the east. “You are fools, all of you. Centuries ago, after Kirun’s reign of terror made you fear for Vilwan’s future, you agreed to hobble yourselves so you could continue your monopoly on power. Through the centuries, however, you resented what you had done. You have no idea what you have lost, and when the time came that you needed it again, you didn’t seek to educate everyone; you took people and fashioned us

into weapons. Why? Because we would be easy to control, whereas knowledge is not.

“I am not a puppet. You do not control me, nor do you control your own

fate.“

The Grand Magister’s face darkened. “No? Who does? You?”

“If you force me to it, yes.”

Suppression laughed. “To what end would you control Vilwan, Reese? Do you believe that as Grand Magister you will be given a voice at Meredo? Do you think the crowns will let you pull together all the pieces of the DragonCrown so you can unmake it?”

“Yes, that’s one thing. They will let me do that.”

She shook her head slowly. “I tell you this with no animus, but they will never agree to it. None of them will trust you because, no matter how much they owe you for Chytrine’s defeat, they fear, Kerrigan Reese. Theyfearwhat will happen in the moment you don that Crown so you can take it apart again. You are the most powerful mage in the world, perhaps the equal of Kirun. They cannot chance that with the Crown in your power you will not control all dragons and lay waste to the world.”

Kerrigan’s green eyes narrowed. “And do you know why that is?” Suppression shrugged. “You’ll tell me.”

“It’s because you hold all the power. You set yourselves up to be the equal of the crowns, so they see you—us,me—as their rivals, not their partners and helpers. I hope, for the sake of the world, your prediction will not come true.” Clairvoyance smiled. “It will.”

“Then I have even more work to do here. Vilwan is going to change, from top to bottom. We will teach everyone all we can. We will teach them all disciplines andstylesof magick.”

Combat, bare-chested, with his hands clasped at the small of his back, raised an eyebrow. “Styles?”

“We will incorporate bits of various traditions. Elven, urZrethi, Murosan, Zhusk, and even hydromancy.”

“Hydromancy?”

“Yes, Grand Magister. We have a cadre of wizards who have been trained in Tagothcha’s realm. We will even explore the methods Neskartu used in his Conservatory.”

The Grand Magister shook his head. “No, none of that is possible. The crowns would not allow it, though they matter not. You will be stopped, here and now, for you will destroy magick.”

Kerrigan snorted. “I will destroy your grip on power. You can’t stop me.” The Grand Magister laughed harshly and his eyes burned with an arcane purple light. “Neither you nor this puppet behind you has enough power to defy

us.

Kerrigan glanced again at Rymramoch. “You were right. Stopping at Vael en route was a good idea. In this situation, what would Resolute do?”

Rymramoch nodded once, then his body expanded. He grew to ten feet in height, with spikes bristling up through his robe. Claws shredded his gloves and his mask fell away to reveal a scarlet-scaled face with glowing eyes. Smoke drifted from his slit nostrils, and ivory fangs flashed as he spoke. “I believe, Kerrigan Reese, he would proceed with a graphic demonstration of where they have overestimated their power.”

“Right.” Kerrigan curled his hands down into fists and felt power gather in them. “Minimize the damage to the real estate. It, unlike the people here, may be useful in the future.”

VORQUELLYN

Alexia, Queen of Okrannel, stood proudly among her peers. The blue gown she had donned had been trimmed hem, cuff, and neckline with black ribbon in mourning for her grandfather. He’d passed away in his sleep the very day she had defeated the Aurolani forces. Crow, Perrine, and Preyknosery knew she also wore the ribbon for her father, to honor the man who should have had the throne she now claimed.

The day could not have been more beautiful, with the summer sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky. Rumors had abounded that vast sums had been given to Tagothcha to keep the ocean calm and the day bright, but she knew the truth of it. She’d seen King Erlestoke wade into the Saslynnae bay and speak with his mother, asking her to make sure the day would be perfect.

For her part, Alexia could not have been happier, both to be on Vorquellyn and well away from Meredo. The crowns—in person or later through envoys— had discussed and argued for two months over topics trivial and substantial. There seemed to be little differentiation between the two classes of items, since both were argued with equal passion and length. For the most part the trivial decisions were made with minimal pain, but not so the substantial ones.

The first and key battle had concerned the fate of Muroso and the other nations that had been overrun by the Aurolani forces. After Nefrai-kesh’s defeat, Markus Adrogans had taken command of the army, freeing the crowns to head south to Meredo. He had cleared the Aurolani from Sebcia and chased them north to Aurolan. He stationed a force at the gap, then returned to the ruins of Fortress Draconis and established it as his new headquarters.

Muroso lay in ruins and a number of nations wanted to make it and Sebcia into an international zone, akin to Fortress Draconis, so if another force in the north arose, they would all be prepared to defeat it. That was the pretense, in any event, under which discussions began. In truth—and everyone knew it—the

various nations wanted to colonize the two nations and reap the economic benefits of trade.

Erlestoke engineered a solution that preserved Murosan independence. He married his younger brother to Queen Sayce and pledged his nation’s army to defend his sister nation to the north. Moreover, it was made known that he had influence with Tagothcha, and that any shipping going into or out of colonies would not make it home. The crowns, therefore, applauded the rebirth of Muroso.

Alexia glanced further down the reviewing stand, where Sayce and Linchmere stood together. They certainly made an odd couple, but a perfect one for what Muroso needed. Sayce had the fiery nature that made people see her as a leader. The story of her capture, escape from Aurolan, and return with the Norrington to kill Chytrine had already spawned several cycles of songs that guaranteed her immortality. And Linchmere had grown in confidence, especially since his arm had been replaced. With the Freemen, he had displayed a talent for resource acquisition and distribution that was vital for rebuilding a nation. He retained Rounce Playfair as an economic advisor, putting the merchant’s considerable trade experience and resources at his service.

Sebcia would likewise be rebuilt. Among the refugees there had been found someone distantly related to the old royal family, so that person was established as the ruler. Veterans of the war were given land grants in Sebcia to repay them for their service and many moved their families there. General Pandiculia of Salnia remembered her king having exiled her for defying him, so she chose to move to Sebcia. She became Regent for the ruler and the rebuilding of Sebcia began—starting with the destruction of the dam that kept the Eirsena captive.

Items that might have seemed more trivial were also argued at length. The nature of Nefrai-kesh’s involvement with Chytrine’s downfall became a point of interest because it was suggested that he truly was the Norrington who was Chytrine’s undoing. The loss of Okrannel, the less than effective campaign defending Muroso and, ultimately, his inability to kill a Hawkins were all pointed to as reasons to assume he had slipped his leash and was working against his mistress. This concept comforted some of those whose countrymen and -women had becomesullanciri.

Alexia found herself unable to make a decision on the point. She knew his beingthe Norringtonwas nonsense because of his really being a Hawkins. That didn’t help much because his action could be seen as actively aiding a Norrington in his quest to destroy Chytrine. After all, at his request, Sayce had not been slain and she’d proved important on the quest to kill the Nor’witch. On the other hand, Nefrai-kesh had not turned the Aurolani army on Chytrine, nor had he surrendered it. Were it not for Adrogans’ intervention, the south would have been badly hurt. As far as Alyx was concerned, that point could be debated without end.

Only two things in the Meredo meetings came as a surprise. Alexia favored the first, but still recalled the pain in Queen Carus’ voice when she proposed Markus Adrogans should become the new Draconis Baron. She pointed out that he already possessed the fortress and that he also possessed the secret of firedirt. She read a message from Adrogans in which he said he intended to surrender neither, so the crowns were presented with a fait accompli, which they approved with much hollow speechmaking.