In a private chamber in the upper reaches of Lightbringer's Keep, Caile bowed deeply and rose to face Emperor Guderian. At Caile's side, Lorentz stayed prostrate for a moment longer before rising. Behind them, Caile's liaison, Lindy, stood barring the exit from the chamber, and in the corridor outside, four more guards stood at the ready. The Emperor, himself, sat in a modest throne atop a raised dais, and to either side of him were racks full of weapons: swords with barbed blades, maces, flails, short handled battle-axes, and bladed weapons Caile had never seen the likes of before. The rest of the room was unadorned and black. There were no windows, only a half dozen wall torches, and the room reeked of iron or bloodâCaile couldn't tell which.
Apart from the court sessions and public hearings in the throne room, it was the first time Caile had been summoned by the Emperor since arriving, and he knew whatever was going on wasn't good.
This chamber is meant to intimidate people,
he told himself.
Just remain calm, think before speaking, and everything will be fine.
“Leave us and close the door,” the Emperor told Lindy.
The giant man did as he was told, and the Emperor regarded Caile and Lorentz silently for a long moment before speaking again.
“Your father is a traitor, Prince,” he finally said. “He sent you instead of your sister, not because she was ill, but because she is a sorceress. You knew and yet said nothing.”
“I cannot speak for my father, Your Excellency,” Caile responded, “but I can assure you I knew nothing of the sort. I barely know my sister. I've been gone these last five years in Valaróz, and before that I was but a child.”
“But you do not deny that she is a sorceress?”
“Who am I to question you, Your Excellency? I've seen no signs to suggest she is, but you would know better than I, and as I said, I've been gone. All I know is I was summoned back to Pyrthinia two years early and immediately sent here without so much as a night's rest. I was informed that my brother had died and that my sister was too ill to travel, that is all.”
“You can vouch for his words?” the Emperor asked Lorentz.
“Yes, Your Excellency. It is as the Prince says. We were summoned to Kal Pyrthin and stayed not even a day before being sent here. King Casstian himself told me that the Princess was unfit for travel and asked me to watch over young Caile.”
Caile bristled inwardly at being called young but let it go. “The Royal Physician himself penned the letter I brought you, Your Excellency.”
“Yes, that is why he has been stripped of his office and put in chains along with your father,” the Emperor stated flatly.
Caile heard the menace in Guderian's voice and picked his words carefully. “If I may ask, Your Excellency, how is that you are so certain my sister is a sorceress and my father a traitor?”
“The houndkeeper in Kal Pyrthin identified sorcery in your father's keep, so I sent Wulfram to investigate.”
A sense of dread filled Caile at hearing Wulfram's name.
“But your father knew he was caught,” the Emperor continued. “Before Wulfram arrived, he sent your sister away on a ship and began marshaling forces to wage war against the Empire.”
Caile found some small triumph in the fact that Taera had escaped, but he showed no outward sign of his emotions. “I must say, I'm stunned,” he said. “I did not think my father was capable of revolt. He has been a loyal servant to you ever since he took his throne.”
“Outwardly loyal, perhaps, but he has been a constant impediment to my vision of progress. He has clung to the old ways and harbored sorcerers, endlessly petitioning me for amnesty. It all makes much more sense now, knowing one of his own children is a sorceress. Parents will go to no ends to protect their children, even treason it seems. And yet, he had no qualms about sending you here to me.” The Emperor grabbed up one of the axes beside him and spun the handle in his hand. “Why? Is it because he has little regard for you, or is it because he knows you're clever and thinks you can talk your way out of danger?”
“If I may venture a guess, I would say it is the former,” Caile said. “I have done my best to be a loyal son and servant of both Pyrthinia and the Sargothian Empire, but I admit to having little love for my father, and he has never shown any respect or love for me. Don Bricio has shown more regard for my welfare and growth than my own father.”
The Emperor stood and stepped down from the dais, axe still in hand. “Be that as it may, you are in a dire predicament, young prince,” he said, circling Caile and Lorentz. “You were sent here as collateral to ensure your father's loyalty, but Casstian Delios is King of Pyrthinia no longer. That means you are of little value to me anymore.”
Caile eyed the weapon racks on the dais as the Emperor swept past him. If he was quick, Caile might be able to leap away when the Emperor's back was turned and arm himself, but he knew that would mean Lorentz's death, and alone, Caile would have little chance fighting his way past the Emperor, Lindy, and the other guards in the hallway. The best he could hope for would be to strike a mortal blow to the Emperor before the guards rushed in.
Keep your cool,
he reminded himself and took a deep breath.
“If you have declared my father and sister traitors under the powers vested to you by the wartime privileges of Sargoth Lightbringer, then by the same laws decreed by the founders of the Five Kingdoms, I am rightfully the successor to the throne of Pyrthinia,” Caile said. “I understand how easily you could end the Delios line of succession,” Caile went on, nodding in the direction of the axe in the Emperor's hand, “but I think we might find a mutually beneficial solution.”
The Emperor stopped in front of Caile and stared down at him with a thin smile. “So you have some cleverness in you after all, my princeling. Don Bricio has taught you well. You see how we both may gain by helping one another. It is true I could hand pick my own ruler for Pyrthinia, but I've seen the problems it has caused in Valaróz. The Pyrthinians will be more content if Caile Delios sits on the throne rather than some stranger. And Pyrthinia will thrive with a ruler who shares my vision. So I leave the choice to you. Pledge your allegiance and loyalty to me and the Sargothian Empire, and the throne is yours.”
Caile opened his mouth to respond, but the Emperor held up a finger to silence him. “But before you answer, you may want to hear the terms of your pledge. If you are to be King of Pyrthinia, your first task as my servant is to carry out the execution of your father. When his head lies on the courtyard of Castle Pyrthin, you shall take the throne.”
Panic flooded through Caile. He had not lied before when he said he felt little love for his father, but there was more love there than he was willing to admit. He knew he could never kill his own father.
“What would the people think, having a kinslayer as a king?” Caile asked, his voice less firm than before. “It would undermine my power in their eyes.”
“No, quite the opposite,” the Emperor said, leaning in close to Caile. “It would show the people that King Caile and Emperor Guderian are unified in thought and purpose, that the old ways of sorcery are death, and that the future lies within grasp of the human mind and technology.” The Emperor stepped back and sat back down in his throne. “You have provided wise council to your prince in the past, Captain,” he said to Lorentz, “Perhaps you have some advice to him now?”
Lorentz nodded. “A wise and just king will never find it easy to execute someone, but he must find the strength in him to do what is right, to lead by example. When despair reigns supreme, when defeat seems near⦔
Caile recognized the words Lorentz spoke. It was an old saying from the time of the Dreamwielder War that Lorentz left unfinished. Caile knew it well; it was meant to inspire troops going into a hopeless battle.
When despair reigns supreme, when defeat seems near, stand by your brothers, follow orders, and even in death we will be victorious.
But that wasn't the way Lorentz ever recited it to Caile in private.
Don't ever throw your life away needlessly,
Lorentz always told him.
When despair reigns supreme, when defeat seems near, do what you must to live and fight another dayâ¦
The Emperor nodded in approval, oblivious to Lorentz's hidden message. “Sage advice, Captain. Follow orders. Is that something you are capable of, Caile, or are you still too young and headstrong to realize what's good for you? If you can trust in me and do as I say, you will live a life of privilege and see the Sargothian Empire become the greatest civilization the world has ever known. You will come to see the truth in my vision of the future. However, spurn me and pain and death will be all you know. I extinguished the royal line of the Pallma family in Valaróz, and I have no qualms about doing the same with the Delios line in Pyrthinia.”
“The choice is simple, Your Excellency,” Caile said. “I will gladly trust in you and do as you say. Upon your word, I will strike my father's head from his shoulders.”
“Good. Sharpen your sword then. We leave for Pyrthinia tomorrow.”
Natarios Rhodas leaned back into the deep cushions of King Casstian's throne with a contented sigh.
I could get used to this,
he thought.
The rats and ravens can have that smelly tower and the scent-hound too.
“Excuse me, sir,” the chamberlain interrupted. “By tradition, a regent of the realm shall not sit in the monarch's throne but rather sit off to the side so as not send the wrong message to vassals.”
“When I want your official take on tradition, I'll be sure to ask you,” Natarios remarked.
“But sir,” the chamberlain persisted, “Wulfram said you were to abide by all standing laws until such time as he or the Emperor arrives.”
“Yes, laws, not traditions. Show me an official writ that states regents can't sit on the throne and I'll move. Until then, kindly quit your yammering. You're giving me a headache.”
The chamberlain pursed his lips and stormed out of the throne room.
“Have the kitchen send me a tankard of ale!” Natarios yelled after him, but he knew the chamberlain would ignore him.
No doubt he'll be off to the scroll room to find some antiquated law making it illegal for regents to place their buttocks on the royal cushions.
Natarios sighed again. Ruling a kingdom was wearisome work, especially with half of King Casstian's most trusted advisors locked up in the dungeon with Casstian himself. Natarios had ordered all the makeshift militias Casstian had mustered disbanded. He had found little resistance to that decree, but every other decision he made had caused him endless grief. If the chamberlain wasn't objecting, it was the craftsmen guilds or the harbormaster or some rich merchant. Natarios had half a mind to march down into the dungeon and negotiate the release of King Casstian. If Casstian was willing to part with some of the gold in the royal treasury, Natarios would be happy to leave it all behind.
Along with the gold I got from Roanna, I could take a ship to the Old World and buy myself my own little villa. I could buy a nice, comfy, cushioned throne of my own to sit in and not have to make all these tedious decisions.
Natarios knew that Casstian was not the type of the man to bargain with though.
He's too damned stubborn with his “principles,”
Natarios scoffed. If he released Casstian, Natarios would likely find himself in shackles, locked up in the dungeon. And then there was always Wulfram to worry about. Taking a bribe here and there was nothing worthy of Wulfram's attention, but letting Casstian loose would be grand treason, and the Emperor might take exception. The thought of Wulfram coming after him did not particularly appeal to Natarios.
No, no,
Natarios mused,
I'll just stay here in my luxuriant chair and avoid everyone's wrath. Who knows, if something bad happens to that foolhardy prince, the Emperor might even give me the throne, and then I can choose my own advisors to make all the tough decisionsâ¦
Caile paced his room frantically trying to figure out what to do. He knew what Lorentz would sayâ
just be patient and wait for the right opportunity to escape
âbut waiting wasn't an option. The Emperor intended on going himself to Pyrthinia to oversee King Casstian's execution, and in all likelihood Wulfram would be there too. Even if Caile managed to slip away with his men on the road to Kal Pyrthin, the Emperor would track them down and kill them.
No, if I want to get my men out of here and have any chance of saving my father, the only option is to escape tonight,
Caile decided.
But how?
He could use the secret passage beneath his room and save himself, of course, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving his men behind to certain death. As far as he knew, there was only one entrance into the guarded barracks where his men were staying, and that meant getting out of his room past Lindy. There weren't any other options.
Past Lindy it is, then.
Once his decision was made, Caile moved with purpose, deliberately avoiding the gravity of what he was about to do. He pulled out his boot knife, pried up the floor-stone covering the secret passageway and tossed the stone onto his bed. He then laid down on the floor as if he had been knocked down, and began yelling.
“Help! Lindy! Help!”
The door flew open and Lindy barged into the room, battle-axe in hand.
“A man came up through the floor,” Caile said breathlessly, pointing toward the hole. “He tried to kill me.”
Lindy rushed forward to hunch over the dark passage, and Caile pushed himself up to stand beside him. “He jumped back into the hole when I started yelling,” Caile said, pausing with uncertainty for only a moment before thrusting his boot knife into the base of Lindy's skull directly above the spine, just as Don Bricio had taught him years before. The knife stuck in Lindy's massive vertebra, though, and rather than killing him instantly, it merely stunned him. He staggered to his feet with a groan and his arms flailed about to find Caile. Caile grabbed up the first thing he could find, the floor-stone, and brought it crashing down over Lindy's head. The stone split in two over the back of Lindy's thick skull, and the giant of a man toppled face first into the hole in the floor, only to get wedged halfway in.