‘Highness, please, you cannot!’ Tatyana’s sword remained in its sheath as she dropped to a knee.
For my part, I fed power into my wind and fire construct so that it was ready to unleash with a thought. Fronsac must have sensed it because I felt his magics flicker to life as well, his now empowered wards making the air around him gleam like oil upon water.
If Jean was in anyway aware of how close he was to being immolated, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he simply waved his hand at his guard, who sheathed his vicious looking sword in the same swift movement he’d drawn it with.
‘Sit down,’ he said, his voice taking the hard edge that he had used in the war council. I didn’t care for it, but I curled a finger of sorcery under my fallen chair and dragged it back towards me. Tatyana returned to the edge of her seat, her heart still beating like a drum and her scent clouded with anxiety. I glanced at Fronsac as his wards subsided; he was watching me as well, the green of his eyes glinting with gathered energy.
‘Do you have any idea what you have done?’ Jean snapped, pulling my attention away from the wizard. He didn’t pause long enough for either of us to answer. ‘You’re a confessed necromancer. You killed the commander of my army, burned half of his camp and have now attacked the church on the eve of battle, slaying Drogah only knows how many of their holy knights, not to mention their spiritual leader. And from the bells, I am assuming you’ve done more damage since you came back here, yes?’
‘They were torturing Tatyana. I will not stand for that.’
‘I’ll take that as a yes then. Do you have the remotest idea how it looks for me to have invited you into my confidence? Even now the guards outside are wondering why they haven’t been ordered to drag you out in irons.’
‘He disabled the guards,’ Fronsac added helpfully.
‘What does it matter?’ I said. ‘You know the truth of it.’
‘What does it matter?’ Jean’s voice cracked out like a whip as he gripped the edge of the table. ‘What does it matter? Are you a simpleton?’
I felt my lip curl into a sneer. Was this his gratitude for all I had done, for the blood I had shed?
‘You ungrateful wretch.’
Jean started backwards as if slapped, and for a moment it was quiet enough for me to hear the soft buzz of the fruit flies that gathered over the bowls.
‘You dare speak to me like that?’ Despite the anger that flavoured his scent, Jean’s voice was quiet, and as he spoke the guard behind him laid his hand on his sword again.
I looked up at the pale man. He was certainly fast, but I was confident that my thoughts were faster. ‘If you draw that sword, I will burn the flesh from your very bones.’
‘Your Highness,’ Fronsac said, stepping forward between us. ‘Stratus. Peace, I pray you.’
‘I will not sit here and be spoken to like that,’ snapped Jean. ‘Not by anyone.’
‘Of course not, Highness, and he will beg your forgiveness.’ Fronsac glanced at me as he spoke. ‘The night has been fraught, and full of strange magics, and I fear they have inflamed both pride and temper. I pray you, let us not add to the legion of enemies that we already face.’
‘There is wisdom in Fronsac’s words,’ I said. ‘I suggest you listen to him.’
Jean didn’t respond other than to grind his teeth and stare at me in what I assumed he imagined was a threatening manner.
The wizard turned to me now. ‘What my prince meant was that you have placed him in an awkward position, for while he values your service, when the high seneschal of the Order comes through that door not long from now, he has no proof of Cardinal Polsson’s crimes.’
‘The cardinal was an agent of the Worm Lord,’ I replied.
‘I understand that, as does my prince, but where is the proof?’
‘I have shown you the proof you need.’
Fronsac shook his head. ‘The Order would not recognise your magic as viable proof, so how, or what, would you show them? You have nothing they will accept.’
‘What if you examine the bodies, and show them the worms?’ offered Tatyana.
‘Again, all of it the product of magic. Whatever else Polsson has done, he has ensured that wizards and the church will never stand side by side, so again, you cannot rely on magic to plead your case to them.’
I looked to Jean. ‘You are the prince, the eldest son of the King, descended from the line of Kramm himself. Can you not command them?’
Jean threw his head back and laughed. Laughed! I felt the anger in me kindle anew but Tatyana spoke from behind me, distracting me before the embers could become a blaze.
‘Who or what is Kramm?’
Fronsac answered for me, which was fortunate as in truth I had no real recollection of it aside from a murky memory of someone announcing the arrival of a visiting king by reciting all of his impressive sounding titles.
‘Kramm was a pagan god of war, part of the pantheon of the Dawn Age. He was said to walk the world in the guise of a female avatar named Storm the Harbinger.’
‘I like him already,’ said Tatyana.
‘That is most impressive, Fronsac,’ I said, genuinely impressed.
He mimed taking a hat off. ‘There’s no point of being a wizard if you can’t dazzle people with obscure knowledge.’
‘Yes, we’re all thrilled, Fronsac,’ said Jean. ‘But it changes nothing. As for commanding the paladins, I would gladly do it if it didn’t violate at least six ancient laws and four very old and cleverly worded treaties. Which leaves me… us… where we started, with me bound to having you arrested and executed for high treason.’
‘No one is executing us,’ I growled. There was no sorcery in my words, but the voice I spoke to them with was older than this city, the timbre of it resonating with the deepest part of their brains, the part that reminded them to fear the dark.
Jean paled and sat back sharply, while his personal guard gripped his sword with suddenly clumsy hands, Behind me Tatyana’s breath caught and even Fronsac took a step back, perhaps uncertain how to react to a non-magical threat.
‘I… I have a proposal for you,’ said Jean, his voice catching for a moment before its usual strength returned.
A thrill coursed through me as I studied their reactions. I had forgotten how good it felt to be feared, and perhaps it was because I hadn’t felt that in so long that I decided to test Fronsac. I flexed my will against the touch of the wards he’d wrapped around me like gossamer curtains of light, and felt them solidify as I tried to brush them aside. They became the thinnest of blades now, cutting my energy into meaningless slivers and tightening around me like the great tree snakes of the far south, their ethereal edges a thought away from cutting me.
‘Don’t do it, my friend,’ he said, but if anything his words only fed the anger waiting within me. He wasn’t the first wizard to try and bind me, to trap me, and while I knew he did it without malice, at that moment I wanted nothing more than to rip the heart from his narrow chest.
A cool hand fell on my arm, and the small spark of raw sorcery that flickered between us let me know it was Tatyana even before she touched me. I let out the breath I had been holding, and the surge of anger subsided with it.
‘Forgive me,’ I said, turning to Fronsac for a moment. ‘My curiosity is a beastly thing.’ I sat back and offered Jean a toothy smile. ‘What is your proposal?’
‘Your lack of respect does you no favours, wizard.’
I opened my mouth to tell him that I was a sorcerer, not a wizard, but caught myself before I said too much. Wizard was such a very human term, coined by a race that had merely heard an echo of the Great Song and, in its arrogance, assumed that giving it a name made them its master.
‘I am not a wizard,’ I said, unable to stop myself. I might have argued the term with him, but there was no point to it. I had a sense of his mind now, and while it was the lightest of impressions it was enough to know that it was not one easily changed. I helped myself to more fruit as I waited for him to finish staring at me.
He sat back as I bit an apple in half. ‘I do not have time for semantics or your wounded pride. Now, I may not like you, but I am not so churlish as to deny the debt we owe you. So this is what will happen: you will be arrested when you leave this room, and taken away to await execution.’
At this Tatyana drew a sharp breath. For my part, I glanced at Fronsac, who gave a small shake of his head. I could feel his wards, but there was no sense of him gathering any other power to himself, which I found reassuring. I ate the rest of the apple and waited for Jean to finish.
‘You will be taken to the traitor’s cells in the guard tower. This will be a mistake of course, since a wizard will surely have no trouble opening the door. You will escape, to my public disappointment, and secretly meet with Fronsac, who will take you somewhere out of the way until we see how this mess is going to play out.’
‘I don’t like prisons.’
Jean slapped his hand against the table. ‘I don’t care! You will do this, or by the gods, I will hand you over to them with a bloody ribbon around your neck.’
‘Highness,’ said Tatyana, edging forward. ‘Prince Jean, what about Lucien? He is too close to them.’
‘I have not forgotten my own brother.’ He looked to the window, and the pinking sky beyond. ‘He has ridden out to join his army this very morning, accompanied by Baron Karsten and his lancers.’
‘The fourth cohort are Polsson’s men,’ I said. Had my warnings been for nothing?
‘I have raised Baron Karsten to the position of High Seneschal,’ Jean said, as if that explained anything.
‘Karsten is a good man,’ Tatyana said. ‘As High Seneschal he will be close to Lucien at all times.’ She looked back to Jean. ‘But he doesn’t know the truth. I should be at his side. It’s where I belong. Let us go after them. Please, Jean.’
‘And do what exactly? You’ll both be strung up before you get within fifty yards of him.’
‘It’s time,’ said Fronsac, before either of us could reply. ‘They’re coming up the stairs now.’
I understood his meaning, and while I saw the logic of Jean’s scheme, the thought of being chained and imprisoned once more made my throat tighten and my hands curl into fists. Submission sat as poorly with me as it ever had.
‘Let us get this mummery over with,’ I said, rising to my feet. As I moved, the pale man behind Jean drew his sword. As he did, I loosened the grip on the wind construct I had been holding in my mind, slamming the sword against his chest and hurling him against the wall with enough force to empty a nearby bookshelf. He left a smear of blood on the stone as he slid down it, the whites of his eyes showing as his dazed brain tried to understand what had just happened to him.
At the sound of his body hitting the wall Jean all but threw himself from the chair to land sprawling at Fronsac’s feet, but by then it was over. The wizard was staring at me too, his hands half raised, and even though I didn’t care to try touch his mind with his wards woken, I was fairly certain he was trying to understand why he didn’t sense me doing anything.
The door was thrown open a heartbeat later as the guards reacted to the noise and came charging in, swords raised and challenges spilling from their lips. I raised my hands and stood up as Fronsac helped Jean to his feet.
‘Get them out of here!’ he bawled, his plump cheeks almost as red as the blood on the wall. ‘You keep those chains on, do you hear me? On!’
I couldn’t help but wince as they closed the manacles on my wrists, with my hands behind my back. That I could snap them with just the strength of my arms was scant comfort from the indignity of submission. They led us out into a scene of complete chaos. The guards I had blinded were being tended by what I assumed were healers, while more guards were trying to hold back three grey bearded men wearing the white and red smocks of the paladins. These three and their similarly dressed escorts redoubled the amount of shouting they were doing as they caught sight of us and, in a surge of anger, barged their way through the first line of guards.
‘Demon!’
‘Murderer!’
‘Heresy, my lord!’
The guards who Jean had tasked with taking us to the cells were calling out for them to drop their weapons and stand back, but even I could see they weren’t going to obey. The greybeard’s escorts rushed forward and fell upon the guards with their fists and feet, beating them to the ground. Everyone but me was shouting. One of my guards kicked a paladin hard enough in the eggs to drop him, which made me burst out laughing. As I did, the nearest of the greybeards shouted ‘Bastard!’ and leaped towards me, a dagger in his hand.
I flinched backwards, knocking Tatyana to the ground, and narrowly avoided his lunge. He was close, and in a moment of inspiration I rammed my head down into his face as one of his men had once done to me. I mistimed it though, and instead of striking with my forehead I ended up mashing my face against his. It saved him from a staved in head but I did take a bite out of his cheek instead, which really set him to howling. I spat the bloody wad at him as he staggered away clutching at his face.
‘Enough!’
The word roared through the passage, the force of it ripping several paintings from the walls, and making everyone within it stagger to an abrupt halt, fists raised and mouths open. I smelled Fronsac’s magic as the roar faded to a ringing whine in my ears.
I helped Tatyana to her feet as best as I could with my hands behind me.
‘That is quite enough,’ Fronsac’s voice was hard and laced with power as he strode into the passage. ‘You men. Take the Prince’s prisoners to the cells.’ He jabbed his staff at the paladins. ‘And you, gentlemen, will present your petitions to His Highness in the manner agreed. Church or not, if you so much as lay a hand on the King’s men again you will be deemed a traitor to the Kingdom and dealt with under the old laws.’
I had expected them to protest, but the fire had apparently gone from their bellies. They were hauling their wounded to their feet when a sharp shove from the guardsmen set Tatyana and I walking again.