The King of the Crags (54 page)
He looked down. The road from the palace gate curled away to the right. The first things that caught his eye were the three cages. What was left of Queen Shezira, King Valgar and Prince Sakabian. The crows had had their fill and there wasn’t much left but bones. He had other cages ready, just in case. There was one in particular that he’d made for Princess Lystra. At least he wouldn’t be needing that any more. When the news had reached the palace of Lystra’s murder, the speaker had beamed for days.
Beheading kings and hanging their bodies in cages. Executing her own cousins. Hyram would never have done such things.
The road descended around the palace hill towards the City of Dragons and the Mirror Lakes. The city still bore the scars of the Red Riders’ attack.
Zafir should have crushed them the second they were born. Did she leave them just so that she could have her war?
Zafir should have crushed them the second they were born. Did she leave them just so that she could have her war?
Probably. Which meant that everyone who’d died in the city that day had died for Zafir’s vanity. Vale gritted his teeth.
Orders
, he reminded himself.
The Guard obeys orders. From birth to death. Nothing more, nothing less. It is not our place to praise or to condemn, merely to execute the speaker’s will.
Orders
, he reminded himself.
The Guard obeys orders. From birth to death. Nothing more, nothing less. It is not our place to praise or to condemn, merely to execute the speaker’s will.
Around to the south lay the Hungry Mountain Plain. Out in the distance, a wooden platform still stuck up from the fields.
The tower we built to celebrate the end of Speaker Hyram’s reign. Ten years of peace. We gave up our lives so that princes and kings could have sport with their dragons, so that Hyram could show off how strong we are. And who won that tournament? Zafir. She cheated and Hyram let her get away with it.
He ought to have taken the tower down, but somehow he’d never got around to it.
Because there was always too much else to do? No. Be honest with yourself, Vale Tassan. Because you can’t quite let go of the speaker you used to serve. Not for the one that’s come in his place.
The tower we built to celebrate the end of Speaker Hyram’s reign. Ten years of peace. We gave up our lives so that princes and kings could have sport with their dragons, so that Hyram could show off how strong we are. And who won that tournament? Zafir. She cheated and Hyram let her get away with it.
He ought to have taken the tower down, but somehow he’d never got around to it.
Because there was always too much else to do? No. Be honest with yourself, Vale Tassan. Because you can’t quite let go of the speaker you used to serve. Not for the one that’s come in his place.
He turned his eyes to the north. Zafir would be flying that way soon. She’d be gone from the palace. He looked along the walls. Three hundred scorpions and two thousand men. In the city he could place five hundred more scorpions and the bulk of his soldiers. Putting more scorpions up in the Spur near the mouth of the Diamond Cascade would be sound, although he couldn’t for the life of him think how to get them up there without getting some dragons to carry them.
He stopped himself.
What am I thinking? Am I really thinking about the best ways to defend the palace? From whom, Night Watchman? From the King of the Crags? Is that who you think you might need to fight? King Jehal? Do you think King Sirion will try to seize the throne while Zafir is away? Or do you fear that Queen Jaslyn will snatch a victory despite the numbers stacked against her? Because if you allow yourself to have an opinion for a moment, any one of them, even the Viper, would make a better speaker than Zafir. So are you really thinking of how to defend yourself against the multitude of enemies that Zafir has made for us in the short months of her reign? Or are you thinking of something else, Vale Tassan?
What am I thinking? Am I really thinking about the best ways to defend the palace? From whom, Night Watchman? From the King of the Crags? Is that who you think you might need to fight? King Jehal? Do you think King Sirion will try to seize the throne while Zafir is away? Or do you fear that Queen Jaslyn will snatch a victory despite the numbers stacked against her? Because if you allow yourself to have an opinion for a moment, any one of them, even the Viper, would make a better speaker than Zafir. So are you really thinking of how to defend yourself against the multitude of enemies that Zafir has made for us in the short months of her reign? Or are you thinking of something else, Vale Tassan?
He stared at the scorpions lining the palace walls, at the bodies in the cages, at the black scars in the City of Dragons and the tower on the plains, the last vestige of speaker Hyram’s reign.
Orders. The Guard obeys orders. From birth to death. Nothing more, nothing less.
It occurred to him that while the Adamantine Men vowed to obey the speaker, the alchemists made a different vow. Their vow was to serve the realms.
It occurred to him that while the Adamantine Men vowed to obey the speaker, the alchemists made a different vow. Their vow was to serve the realms.
I think I like the alchemist vow better.
He turned back to look out over the palace. Someone else had slipped out of the council. Lord Eisal, judging by his gait. Vale watched him come towards the Gatehouse. Eisal wasn’t built for speed, but he was doing his best. He looked furtive too. Anxious. Scared.
Or is that my imagination? Although we have just witnessed the start of a war, and it would only be proper to be anxious. After all, it’s not hard to imagine who’s going to be next after the speaker’s done with Shezira’s brood.
Or is that my imagination? Although we have just witnessed the start of a war, and it would only be proper to be anxious. After all, it’s not hard to imagine who’s going to be next after the speaker’s done with Shezira’s brood.
Eisal reached the stables and hurried inside.
Going to the city, My Lord? Or to the eyrie?
He sighed.
Could you not at least be a little less obvious? The council hasn’t even dissolved and here you are, rushing away. To whom, Lord Eisal? Now that I’ve seen you, I need to know to whom. I don’t suppose you’d care to save us both some trouble. I could simply ask and you could simply tell me and then we could both be about our business.
Going to the city, My Lord? Or to the eyrie?
He sighed.
Could you not at least be a little less obvious? The council hasn’t even dissolved and here you are, rushing away. To whom, Lord Eisal? Now that I’ve seen you, I need to know to whom. I don’t suppose you’d care to save us both some trouble. I could simply ask and you could simply tell me and then we could both be about our business.
No. Reluctantly, Vale stood up and stretched his legs. Then he ran down the steps to the foot of the Gatehouse. Lord Eisal was already gone but the guard always kept a couple of mounts saddled and ready in case the speaker needed to send an urgent message to any of her eyries. Vale helped himself. He followed Eisal carefully, discreetly, down into the City of Dragons. If Eisal was trying to be subtle then it was clearly his first attempt. Mentally Vale was already seeing him hanging outside the gates in another cage.
Simply for being so inept. That would be reason enough.
Simply for being so inept. That would be reason enough.
Eisal rode into the circus at the heart of the city. In the centre an obsidian statue of a dragon rose fifty feet into the air. Standing on the dragon’s head was a man with a sword, poised to bring his blade down into the monster’s skull. The first Night Watchman, some said, slaying a dragon with his bare hands.
Around the dragon, a ring of fountains chattered and bubbled, filling the circus with noise and spray, adding to the damp that always filled the air from the Diamond Cascade above. Eisal dismounted. He led his horse between the fountains and stopped beside the statue of the dragon. Vale followed on foot, slipping purposefully through the loose crowds that always thronged in the city centre. He didn’t have to wait long to see who Eisal had come to meet. Two men, tall, broad and unmistakable, detached themselves from the crowd and stood with Eisal beside the dragon. The meeting lasted barely thirty seconds and Vale wasn’t close enough to hear anything that was said, but then he didn’t need to be. He could see it. He could see it in the faces of the riders at the statue.
It is decided. The war is coming.
That’s what Eisal was saying.
It is decided. The war is coming.
That’s what Eisal was saying.
Vale lost interest in Eisal. He followed the two men as they walked away from the statue and caught up with them halfway across the circus.
‘What a fine afternoon,’ he said when he was only a pace behind them. ‘Wouldn’t you say?’
The two men stopped. Very slowly they turned around. Vale had to force himself not to bow. Bowing would draw attention, and he wasn’t sure he wanted that. Not yet. He settled for a slight nod of the head.
‘Your Holiness. Forgive me if I intrude. King Sirion and Lord Hyrkallan. Two faces I had not expected to see in the Circus of Dragons at this time and certainly not together.’
Hyrkallan’s hand went to his sword. ‘Night Watchman,’ he growled. ‘Well well. I sang your praises to my last queen often enough but you are an unwelcome sight today.’
‘I am called what I am called for a reason, Rider. When night comes it falls to the Adamantine Men to keep watch over the nine realms. You will not deny that the times are dark, I hope.’ He glanced up at the statue. ‘No one knows his name. Whoever he was he certainly didn’t kill a dragon by standing on its head and bashing it with a sword. But the point remains.’
‘You will not take us without a fight, Night Watchman,’ said King Sirion. He spoke quietly. He almost sounded sad, Vale thought.
‘And I don’t see your men, Vale.’ Hyrkallan, on the other hand, sounded like two slabs of rock grinding together.
No sadness there.
No sadness there.
‘I followed Lord Eisal alone. On a whim, you might say.’
Hyrkallan’s hand gripped the hilt of his sword. Vale smiled.
‘Do you think you could, Rider?’
‘I think I could try.’
‘Oh, I don’t doubt that. You might hold me long enough for King Sirion to get away. Or you might not.’ A flash of rage crossed Hyrkallan’s face. Vale held up his hands. ‘You don’t
need
to try, Rider. I was never here. You may go. I have nothing to say to either of you.’
There. I have betrayed my speaker. I have nowhere further to fall.
He half turned and then stopped. ‘No, I do have something to say to you. I have known you both through the reigns of two speakers. You are men of courage and of honour. Although at the moment it does not, I hope that the Adamantine Palace will one day welcome such men again. But I will say this to you. Fight your wars in the skies if you must, but do not bring them here. If you do, you will find that I have another name, one I wear for war.’
need
to try, Rider. I was never here. You may go. I have nothing to say to either of you.’
There. I have betrayed my speaker. I have nowhere further to fall.
He half turned and then stopped. ‘No, I do have something to say to you. I have known you both through the reigns of two speakers. You are men of courage and of honour. Although at the moment it does not, I hope that the Adamantine Palace will one day welcome such men again. But I will say this to you. Fight your wars in the skies if you must, but do not bring them here. If you do, you will find that I have another name, one I wear for war.’
Hyrkallan almost grinned. ‘If Zafir brings her dragons across the spur then I will meet them, no matter what my queen has to say. But I give you my word, I will not bring them here without your leave, Scorpion King.’
Vale smiled back. ‘I hope your queen agrees with you, Rider.’ He took a step away and then gave a final nod. ‘Your Holiness. Your Highness. I will pray to all our ancestors. Let there be peace.’ He glanced at King Sirion. ‘Queen Shezira did not kill Hyram. I have very good reason to believe that now, Your Holiness.’
He turned and walked away.
There. And now a thousand people have seen the captain of the Adamantine Men openly conspiring with enemies of the speaker. As far as I know, Zafir’s still offering her own weight in gold for Hyrkallan’s head. Sadly I don’t have much use for gold.
He walked back across the circus and got back on his horse.
I could still tell her though. Would there be second thoughts? Would it make any difference if she knew that both Sirion and Hyrkallan will be waiting for her across the mountains?
There. And now a thousand people have seen the captain of the Adamantine Men openly conspiring with enemies of the speaker. As far as I know, Zafir’s still offering her own weight in gold for Hyrkallan’s head. Sadly I don’t have much use for gold.
He walked back across the circus and got back on his horse.
I could still tell her though. Would there be second thoughts? Would it make any difference if she knew that both Sirion and Hyrkallan will be waiting for her across the mountains?
He mulled that over on his way back up the hill. By the time he reached the top, he knew the answer. No, it wouldn’t make any difference at all.
And that being the case, what would be the point in even mentioning it?
He led his horse back into the stables, stripped off its saddle and started to brush it down. Working with horses always calmed him down.
And when I’m done here, I suppose I’d better hurry and make another cage. I won’t fit in the one we made for Princess Lystra.
He led his horse back into the stables, stripped off its saddle and started to brush it down. Working with horses always calmed him down.
And when I’m done here, I suppose I’d better hurry and make another cage. I won’t fit in the one we made for Princess Lystra.
But first, there was the little matter of a war.
45
Viper Viper
Evenspire. Jehal slammed down his visor and plunged down through the air towards the city. The wind made it almost impossible to think and he clung on, pressing himself against Wraithwing, hugging the dragon’s scales, trying to make sure there was no part of him that a hunter might catch hold of with its tail. Six of Almiri’s hunting dragons had come after him. Four had lost their riders and were spiralling aimlessly towards the ground behind him. The other two were right behind him. He felt the first blast of fire wash over him. His dragon-scale armour kept the flames and the heat at bay. With his visor down he could barely see. For all he knew, Almiri had more dragons hidden in the city waiting for him.
That’s what I’d do. Outnumbered as she is, I’d try to kill me and I’d try to kill Zafir. And then I’d probably run away. But where had they come from?
That’s what I’d do. Outnumbered as she is, I’d try to kill me and I’d try to kill Zafir. And then I’d probably run away. But where had they come from?
‘Back up!’ he hissed. The words were lost to the rush of air but that didn’t matter. The dragon would hear them even if he spoke in silence. ‘Up! Up to the rest of the dragons!’
Wraithwing is a war-dragon. He’s faster than they are. They’ve lost their advantage. All I have to do is fly straight and level. Of course, that depends on how close they are, which I can’t see . . .
Wraithwing is a war-dragon. He’s faster than they are. They’ve lost their advantage. All I have to do is fly straight and level. Of course, that depends on how close they are, which I can’t see . . .
Wraithwing pulled sharply up and turned. Something wrenched at Jehal’s harness, some irresistible force. He felt straps and ropes tauten and snap. Nothing had a grip on him though. He wasn’t dead and he wasn’t flying through the air. Some of the bindings that held him and Wraithwing together had broken. Some, but not all. He clung on even tighter.
‘Faster!’ He had mounted two men on the dragon behind him. Their job was to keep watch above and below and behind. If he’d been from the north, they would have had scorpions as well.
And will I be thinking how noble and pure we are to fly without them when a six-foot shaft tears me in two?
The riders behind him had had another job too. Jehal didn’t dare lift his head to turn round in case the wind tore him out of his ruined harness. At a guess though, they’d served that other purpose. At a guess they weren’t there any more.
And will I be thinking how noble and pure we are to fly without them when a six-foot shaft tears me in two?
The riders behind him had had another job too. Jehal didn’t dare lift his head to turn round in case the wind tore him out of his ruined harness. At a guess though, they’d served that other purpose. At a guess they weren’t there any more.
Where had Almiri’s riders come from?
Burning the Taiytakei ships in the harbour was one of the most satisfying things Meteroa had done in a very long time. It had an uncomplicated joy to it, the satisfaction of doing something with extreme thoroughness and yet without effort. He burned them to the waterline and stayed to watch them sink. The dragons had enjoyed it too. Something about ships rubbed dragons up the wrong way. They’d liked playing with the sailors too, scooping the survivors out of the water, tossing them into the air and eating them.
That’s what you get for trying to murder our queen. What were you thinking?
That’s what you get for trying to murder our queen. What were you thinking?
Other books
Home Ice by Rachelle Vaughn
Master of the Game by Sidney Sheldon
Blood and Feathers by Morgan, Lou
A Christmas Memory by Capote, Truman
A Girl Like You by Gemma Burgess
Melforger (The Melforger Chronicles) by Lundgren, David
Underneath Everything by Marcy Beller Paul
Man Who Was Late by Louis Begley
Ultimate Engagement by Lydia Rowan
Hard Love by Ellen Wittlinger