In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) Page 2
One final tapestry, however, was concealed by a veil, and its chamber’s pedestal was covered by black veils instead of the usual clear glass. It represented the Borden Islands, whose still ongoing revolt nearly a century before – during the reign of Sword King Nargle IV – ultimately led to the decision for Svieda to enter the Sho’Curlas Alliance.
On those few occasions when all or most of the Swords were present for a formal council, each Sword would ceremonially step forth from their province’s chamber to begin the meeting. That afternoon, however, only Arnach, Brode, Nattiel, and Maelgyn were able to represent their respective provinces for the meeting Hussack had demanded. The four present Swords disappeared to their respective chambers, emerging when court etiquette dictated and standing ceremonially in each doorway, while Hussack – as petitioner of the King – walked to the center of the court. This positioned Hussack between the three Sword Princes and their King.
The room was, in fact, extraordinarily empty. Hussack was so frequent a visitor to the throne room – always with complaints – that, for expediencies’ sake, only a token guard was ever summoned, any more. Maelgyn, his cousins, and Troubuxet were soon joined by Maelgyn’s grim-faced father. They stood in front of the throne, heads bowed, awaiting Sword King Gilbereth’s entrance. Hussack and Mussack were also present, but they clearly had no intention of showing the proper respect to the throne.
Finally, Gilbereth arrived. He wasn’t properly dressed for a meeting, wearing neither his royal regalia nor the dragonhide armor he typically wore even at informal meetings. He was partially protected from magic, nevertheless, by his two guards, each wearing large lodestone plates in their armor. Gilbereth took his seat on the throne, further protected by two massive pillars of lodestone on either side. Between the armed guards and the massive lodestones, the royalty of Svieda could be kept fairly safe from either conventional or magical attack. Even that seemed unnecessary, as the only two people in the room who weren’t entirely trusted had no record of magic talent and neither was armed.
“Well?” Gilbereth demanded, not looking too happy to anyone. “I am not accustomed to being ‘summoned’ to my own throne room without warning. Certainly not by someone who is not even a member of my court.”
“Ah,” Hussack said sardonically. “I see. Well, of course I did not intend to offend you, Your Majesty, but there is an issue we must discuss regarding young Maelgyn, here.”
The king sighed. He had been dealing with these complaints – most of which were unjustified – since Hussack and his son had arrived in the Sviedan court. “And why the urgency? Couldn’t you wait until the hour the Royal Court of Svieda usually listens to complaints?”
“Why, because of the seriousness of the matter,” Hussack explained, feigning surprise at the need for such a question. “It may result in a major shift in our mutual relations.”
The younger Sword Princes looked at one another grimly. To them, the shift had already occurred.
“And what is this... serious matter?” the king bristled, gritting his teeth.
“A matter of protocol, your Majesty. You see, young Maelgyn fails to recognize his betters. My son wishes to take his place as the Sword Prince of Sopan Province, but Maelgyn refuses to surrender the position.”
Silence reigned over the throne room as that declaration was made. Everyone inside – even, apparently, the same Prince Mussack who started the mess – seemed shocked that the man would be that blunt or speak in that tone in the Sword King’s own court.
Gilbereth’s hand tightened on the wooden arm rest of his throne, and a faint crack could be heard as the wood split underneath it. “So this is how it begins,” he muttered, almost to himself. He shook himself and turned to address Hussack directly, the gleam of royal rage in his eyes.
“First of all, I should emphasize that it was not only the right, but the duty of Our kin, the Sword Prince Maelgyn, to refuse such a demand. Indeed, I have every right to order Mussack’s execution and reward Maelgyn a great bounty from your very testimony just now. Your son’s crime is extremely serious, Hussack. But before I pronounce judgment – not on Maelgyn, but on your son – I will give you one single chance to explain just why you believe I should not have Prince Mussack shortened by a head.”
“Why,” Hussack countered, defiantly stepping forward. “Isn’t it obvious? Mussack is my son, and a Prince in line for the throne of the High King of Sho’Curlas. Our royal line is older, our armies are stronger, and we are wealthier than you could ever hope to be. Svieda is little more than a protectorate of ours. We are your superiors in every way, and so any one of us has the right to expect an appropriate tribute from you when we ask it.”
“The right, you say?” Gilbereth repeated slowly, drawing the phrase out while he reined in his temper and restrained himself from killing the man instantly. “If that is your answer, then this alliance is at an end!”
“A petty threat,” Hussack snorted dismissively. “We both know that Svieda needs our alliance. However, we do not need Svieda.”
“You know, Prince Hussack, none of the Swords ever wanted this alliance. My Great Grandfather, Gilbereth I, only agreed to it to forestall a greater conflict. In truth, he should have listened to his last six predecessors, all of whom rejected you.”
“Sho’Curlas grew for many years, often demanding we join your alliance, but we were strong enough not to fear your demands. Then Abindol Province unexpectedly rebelled against us. We lost the resources to support our military, and we feared we would be forced to ally with a greater power, either Sho’Curlas or the Imperial Republic of Oregal. To our surprise, as we were about to surrender to the inevitable and join your alliance, Oregal offered to cede Sopan to us. They knew we had to remain independent to preserve the balance of power. They had no thirst for war and conquest, but they knew war would be inevitable if your borders ever met.
“Oregal’s strategy worked. With us acting as a buffer, there were no conflicts between the two great powers for many years... but then another disaster befell our kingdom – the Sword of Borden also betrayed us, and led yet another province into rebellion. Many of our resources were drained fighting that still ongoing war, while Borden seemed to have no end to the number of ships and soldiers they could bring into the conflict. Somehow it has been able to sustain itself indefinitely against the collected might of nine other provinces, many of which were even larger.
“When Sho’Curlas sent its ambassadors to us a few years into the war, we gained our first glimpse of the forces at work. My great grandfather and namesake, Sword King Gilbereth I, came to realize he had but two choices: To prepare our bankrupt nation to fight a war with you, or to join you. He joined, but used the threat of an alliance with Oregal – as well as our large and experienced armies – to force your nation into accepting our terms. Terms which grant us more power than most of the other ‘allies’ you obtained. And now, apparently, those terms are no longer satisfactory to you.”
Gilbereth rose to his feet, pointing accusingly at the ambassador. “We are not fools, Hussack! You slipped up. We now know why Abindol and Borden abandoned us – you subverted them. You turned them against us and funded their rebellions to force us into alliance with you.
“I had hoped to choose my own time to address this, but your actions tonight – and those of your nation – cannot go unanswered. As of this moment, the Kingdom of Svieda withdraws from the Sho’Curlas Alliance. Our armies will stand ready to meet you whenever they’re needed.”
Hussack didn’t even flinch. If anything, he looked amused at the revelation, smiling coldly. “I see. Well, sire, I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for that. Your spies missed one rather important detail: We already had an army stationed north of here, along the border of your Province of Sycanth. According to a message I received this morning, that army began the invasion yesterday. Given the lack of any organized defense along that border, they should be arriving here...” he paused, considering. “Perhaps as early as tomorrow.
With an arrogant grin, Hussack raised an arm towards Troubuxet, who was standing behind him, well outside of the protection of any of the guards or lodestones. With a single thought. the iron-chained medallion Mussack had recently gifted their tutor was torn off, snapping the tutor’s neck in the process.
“He’s a mage!,” Maelgyn cried out. He hurried to bring up the mindset needed to counter a magical attack. “Watch yourselves!”
Troubuxet fell to the ground, dead, as the chain was bent, warped, and melted to form several seven-inch long senbon needles, landing safely into Hussack’s outstretched palm. Before anyone could react, he threw those needles into the throats and eyes of several guards around the room.
Maelgyn barely managed to raise a magical defense against the improvised weapons, shielding himself, his cousins and his father from the deadly needles mere moments before they would all have been struck.
Hussack didn’t even notice Maelgyn’s feat as he had moved on to a new target. With the guards disposed of, he had the time to punch his magic through the disruptive barrier provided by the lodestones, and ripped the Royal Sword right out of its sheath, still in its belt at King Gilbereth’s side.
“Hmm, not bad,” Hussack mused absently, testing the sword’s weight. “I suppose I might grow to like a weapon like this... but I need to test its sharpness, first.” Gilbereth tried to dive for one of the downed guard’s weapons, but he was cut off by Mussack, who had already taken one and was moving to help his father. A white-hot line of pain across the back of his neck was the final sensation Gilbereth felt, as Hussack turned the old King’s sword against him.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Hussack taunted the dying king. “But I must inform you that it is too late to withdraw your kingdom from the alliance. And, well, I’m afraid that the chances of your armies ‘meeting us when they are needed’ are not as good as you think.”
Chapter 2
Nattiel was the first person to recover from the shock of Gilbereth’s assassination. Grabbing the three younger princes, he shoved them behind him. Hussack hardly noticed, his attention occupied fighting off the dozens of royal guards streaming into the room as cries of alarm drew them in. Hussack was now wielding two swords recovered from the dead bodies of his victims, while a third was handed off to his son. Even Mussack, who obviously knew of the plot beforehand, seemed a little shocked, but he nevertheless was fighting alongside his father, and it was obvious that they were better swordsmen than anyone in the castle had suspected.
Had Hussack not also been an extraordinary mage the guards may have stood a chance, but guards trained and equipped to fight mages as powerful as Hussack were rare. The Sho’Curlas nobleman-turned-assassin had even less trouble magicking through the lodestone protection the guards wore than he had overcoming the more powerful lodestones used to protect the throne. Maelgyn might stand a chance of protecting himself with his dragonhide armor and his own magical abilities, but that was chancy, at best – he’d never seen anyone as magically powerful as Hussack.
“Get out of here,” Nattiel whispered fiercely. “Send word to the other Swords, then split up and take charge of your own provinces. If they’ve already hit Sycanth, chances are they’ll be here soon, and will move on to the other provinces shortly – you need to prepare your forces to meet them. And don’t worry about Hussack and his brat. I’ll keep him from following you.”
“How, father?” Maelgyn asked, worried.
“Well, I may not be a mage,” he replied, snorting in disgust. “But I’m wearing dragonhide armor, and I’m fairly skilled with a sword. I don’t have to beat him. I just have to stop him from following you, and then barricade him in the throne room while you all make your escape.”
“But... father, what about you?”
He grimaced. “Someone has to be here to lead the castle through the siege. The longer the castle holds, the more time you three will have to organize Svieda’s defense, and I know this old castle’s defenses better than anyone – I can hold the castle for some time. If I don’t... well, let’s not think about that. I’ll try to get away before the city falls, but in the meantime I’m needed here. You three are needed elsewhere, and quickly. Now, go! Get out of here before you can’t.”
“Father, I… “
“I know, son,” he said. “But there’s no time. Go!”
“But I can help you fight!” Maelgyn exclaimed furiously. “I know both the way of the sword and magic! I may not be good enough in either to match this man, but together, we can defeat him!”
Nattiel started to turn back to the men fighting at the other end of the throne room. “Brode, Arnach? Help him leave, please.”
Brode and Arnach grabbed one of Maelgyn’s arms each, and started dragging him away. “Come on, ‘gyn,” Arnach said. “He’s right. I know it hurts. We’ve already lost our father, and yes, you might yet lose yours, as well. But he’s right, we have to go.”
Maelgyn tensed. With the strength of his magic, there was no way his cousins could force him away. He could stay, and no-one would be able to stop him.
“Very well,” Maelgyn said, shrugging off their grips. He would honor his father’s sacrifice. “But I shall return.”
The three young men mounted their horses soberly. They had passed the word for castle defenses to be prepared, but in the chaos of Gilbereth’s death and the on-going battle in the throne room it seemed unlikely the castle would be ready. Of course, that was what Nattiel was staying behind to deal with.
As Maelgyn was saddling his horse, he received word that his father had managed to get out of the throne room alive and was now taking charge of the castle. There was still the coming siege and a serious threat inside the castle to deal with, but Nattiel’s immediate survival eased his heart. A platoon of guards and all four court mages, long in knowledge but significantly weaker than Hussack, combined their magical strength to seal Hussack and his son inside the throne room. That would be a significant chunk of Nattiel’s resources already expended when the Sho’Curlas siege train arrived, but it would allow him to turn his attention to the castle’s defense.
“So,” Maelgyn began hesitantly. “Any idea where to go first?”
“There’s a post station just twenty minutes hard riding from the castle,” Arnach suggested. “It’s where most mail from the castle leaves, so they should easily be able to handle notifying everyone.”
Maelgyn nodded, realizing he could send a message to Sopan that would likely arrive before he did. “Then we split and go our separate ways?”
“Yes... unless you want to come with one of us?” Arnach asked hopefully. He had been especially close to his father, and now it looked as if Maelgyn would be leaving as well. It wasn’t the time for selfishness, but there were sound reasons to keep his friend and cousin nearby while they grieved. “Brode and I could both give you a ship which would get you to Sopan faster than any chance you’d have to get there overland.”
Maelgyn shook his head. “No. I’ll head to Largo and may ship out from there. The winds are wrong this time of year for an ocean trip from either of your provinces. They know I’ll almost certainly have to go by sea to get to Sopan. With a major naval power like the city-state of Oden a part of the ‘Alliance,’ they’re probably going to open their war effort with a blockade of Sviedan ports. Largo has the only fleet large enough to break a blockade on this side of Mar’Tok. A courier might be able to risk trying to get to sea before they get into position, but in my case it would be too reckless – they’ll be looking for me.”
“Well, be careful,” Brode said, joining the other two. “You’ll have to travel across the
entire kingdom of Svieda to get to either Largo or Sopan, and your Sword and armor will draw a lot of attention. We can’t spare you any soldiers for an escort. We aren’t taking escorts, ourselves, though we don’t have nearly as far to travel.”
Maelgyn nodded. “I know. I’ll pick up a disguise in the post house. My face is not too well known outside of the Royal Province, so I should be able to move about with relative anonymity.”
Brode looked doubtful, but held back any arguments he might have had. “Well, then, off we go.”
The trio rode out, driving their horses mercilessly. Each bore a grim face. It was the first time that Brode and Arnach had the chance to reflect on their father’s death, and Maelgyn likewise knew he would probably never see his own father again. If the loss of their fathers was not enough to drive them all into fits of depression, they knew their chances in the coming war were grim at best. Sycanth was literally the gold mine of the nation, and without it the funds to raise an army would be hard to come by. Sopan would pretty much have to bankroll the war effort on its own, and there was no land route between Sopan and the rest of Svieda. More importantly, an army from Sho’Curlas would be sweeping through the royal province and probably the neighboring areas before anyone could muster a defense or a counterstrike.
The three young men arrived at the post station even faster than Arnach had estimated, and quickly dismounted their horses to run inside. Brode took charge, barking orders and demanding that letters be sent at once informing the other Swords of the situation. Arnach started dictating what each letter would say as various people inside the facility scurried about as they were directed.