Deed of Empire, page 36
“Indeed. And I tried to rig this one as well as I could.” Now he looked down at his bound hands. “Not well enough, I’m afraid. Alda can tell you, things fell upon me rather quickly and only sped up after that.”
“If that’s what you call fire, death, and the near rape of your only daughter,” Alda said, “then sure.”
I feel like their relationship isn’t what it could be. The Black Duke promised himself that if he ever made it home, he would embrace every one of his many children extra hard.
“Bugger all this,” The Black Duke said, exasperated. “Just tell us who the emperor is so we can be free of you.”
Heron cocked his head at him. “Have you not figured it out, Waldish?”
Before The Black Duke could think of a response—slapping the smirk off the little bastard’s face was currently top of his list—Fridale leaned forward and spoke in an awed whisper.
“It’s me,” he said. “Last descendant of House Elamien. Heir to Eidannia.”
Heron nodded. “Indeed.”
33.
Egil — Frissum
* * *
Clearly, word had been sent ahead to the Council of Great Families. At least sixty men guarded the entrance to their great hall.
Egil didn’t care. He’d not be disarmed and paraded before them like a caged wolf.
I will die before I am caged. The wolf growled agreement as they attacked.
“Stand aside for the Vargg…oh, bollocks!” Odsmun shouted as Egil charged past.
Egil gave way to the wolf completely and when he returned he was hacking at men who kneeled before him offering their swords. None tried to stop him. He brought himself under control, but not easily. He staggered back to Odsmun who steadied him with a hand on his arm.
He answered Egil’s unspoken question. “If they are killed by the Varggid they are guaranteed a seat at the warrior’s table. That is why they offer no resistance.”
Egil entered the hall covered in gore with forty warriors at his back. Odsmun announced him.
“Lords of the Great Houses, I present to you Egil ba Egil, Varggid, and Heir to Halflan Stoneaxe’s power and land.”
Egil glanced around the room. The hall was huge, lit by torches on the many pillars holding the place up as well as the walls. Old shields hung on the rafters, relics or recoveries from battles clearly fought long ago. For the five men who sat on a dais raised much higher than Alfrin’s had been were not warriors. They were merchants, soft and fleshy, hands worn smooth from handling coins rather than roughened by pommel and haft. But they were draped with wealth and accustomed to power and Egil wondered briefly if he would have to kill at least one to get the rest in line. But they were also not fools, and as merchants were accustomed to adjusting quickly to the vagaries of the market. Seeing their guards defeated or suborned in very short order, Egil took less than three steps toward them before the middle lord, a rare, squat Frissan with a shaved head and long white beard, stood and shouted “Hail, the Varggid! Hail the Empire reborn! Hail Egil!”
The other lords took up the cry, and the men, too, till the walls of the hall shook with the cries of his name. The wolf yowled with glee and Egil raised his fist in time with the chants as he mounted the dais. The leaders of the Great Families left their seats and kneeled before him when he sat. The crowd went silent and one after the other, they gave him their oath.
A week ago I was nearly a beggar without sword, home, or men. And now I am emperor of the Frozen Lands. He couldn’t understand how it had happened until the wolf whispered to him.
It is as I have planned, it said. I rode Stoneaxe to victory until I was snatched from him. Centuries have I waited for another to take his place. Another worthy of me and my power.
Egil bathed in the wolf’s praise. He could almost feel the golden glow of godhood descending upon him. It was so different from the fear, guilt, and confusion he had been feeling since Bardetorre. To know it was all part of the plan, that a greater power had chosen him for this, that he was destined for glory, for vengeance—it calmed him, soothed that small part of his soul that was screaming that he was insane, that there was no way he could be emperor to these madmen who were ready to throw away three centuries of peace because he bit people when he fought.
But that voice was growing quieter, fading away beneath the wolf’s praise. When it quieted to a whisper he could easily ignore, he spoke to the kneeling lords and the men behind them.
“You will give me ships and weapons and men,” he said, “And I will give you Vedland. But not until spring.”
“You shall have them,” the squat councilman said. “What should we do till then?”
“We will do what all armies do,” he said. Wolf-ridden or not, he knew the scale of the battles that they would fight would demand better than the raiding tactics the Frissans once used. And aren’t even well-trained in, now. “We will train.”
We train all winter. The Redfish, Mettins, and Banes had planned their betrayal nearly to perfection, but Egil was absolutely certain that they hadn’t planned for this. And in the spring, we sail for Vedland.
Egil could hear the wolf growling contentment at the thought of the battles to come.
No, they hadn’t planned for this.
34.
Alda — Three Bridges
* * *
Alda stared at the boy who could be emperor someday. Then looked at Heron.
“If you had just given me the papers when I asked for them,” he said, “then that could have been you. Heir to an empire.”
It was too huge for her to know what to think. Idoyu spoke before her mind cleared.
“They would never have accepted you,” he said.
“I would have made them,” Heron replied.
“You couldn’t even make your own people accept you.”
Alda was amazed to see, for the first time, someone looking at Heron not with fear, but with pity. It was as inconceivable as him stopping his knife stroke at the last second.
Family makes you strange, she thought. She hadn’t known; she’d had none for so long.
Heron didn’t respond to his brother. Instead, he turned to Fridale. “Our bargain is fulfilled. I would have my horse and my freedom and be away before dark.”
And before anyone changes their mind.
“Find him a horse and put him on it,” Fridale said.
Alda thought one of his men might grumble, especially the big Waldish one, but no one said a word against their lord. Is it because he’s to be emperor? Or was he always so respected?
“He can have my bay,” Alda found herself saying. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about the guardian, the terror, the complication that was her father. But I can at least give him a horse.
The boy sent one of his men to fetch the bay, then they all went outside to see her father off. I guess no one wants to be alone with him. Smart. She still wasn’t sure this wasn’t just another stratagem. Sure, he looked fully defeated, but she’d be unsurprised if he had a dozen contingency plans that he’d spring on them as soon as he was mounted. But he just spared one look for her that she couldn’t read, and one for Idoyu that was full of…hatred? Love? Disappointment? Then he tipped his hat to Fridale and rode into the darkening street.
Has anyone found and lost their father in so short a time? she wondered. She felt mostly relieved and that made her ashamed. But how does a person feel a daughter’s love toward someone like Heron? She knew him too well. She didn’t know him at all.
“Alda,” Fridale said softly, sounding cognizant of her conflicting emotions, but also insistent. I suppose he does have a lot of stuff he needs to get to.
“Yes?” she said, not adding “Lord” partly because she didn’t know what the correct address for an emperor was, especially for one with no lands and an army of only eight people. But mostly, she left out his title because she was done with Eidannian aristocracy and everything that went with it.
Stupid people with stupid titles and stupid oaths that do nothing but let bad people do whatever they want and get good people killed.
“May I have the papers, now?” Fridale held out his hand.
Gladly, she thought. As soon as I get rid of them I can go back home and…
She stopped, hands halfway up the back of her shirt.
And do what? Be a thief without a patron, cutting purses from merchants’ belts till I get caught and lose a hand? And I am wanted in Pallasoldi. By Kesset, by the Frozen Landers, by the Keepers.
She could almost hear Heron’s voice in her head: you hold the most valuable prize in the world and you’re going to just give it away? Perhaps you aren’t my daughter after all.
“No,” she said, taking a small pleasure in the look on his face. “Not yet, at least.”
He frowned and the Waldish giant looked to be considering what part of her to cut off first, but she didn’t think he would.
Because they are all tied up in their stupid oaths and aren’t free to act as they should and simply take the papers from me.
Though on reflection, given that those oaths were all that kept their daggers from her ribs, she was willing to concede that oaths might not all be as stupid as she thought.
“I will hold onto them for a little while yet,” she said, “Until we can figure their actual worth. And more importantly, until you have the means to pay the price I settle on.”
She thought she saw the giant’s eyes twinkle with amusement, but couldn’t be sure.
“You could leave here right now a wealthy woman,” Fridale said. “You don’t have to wait.”
Alda considered that. Wealthy sounded good. And she thought it was close to what she wanted. But not quite.
“I believe you. But…” What is it you want, Alda? What will satisfy you? What is missing from your life that wealth won’t fill? Because frankly, most of her dreams from her younger life involved being rich enough to never work again. What else is there?
“What is it you want?” Fridale asked.
She answered his question with one of her own. “What kind of an emperor will you be?”
If he had said he’d be “a good one” or a “a strong one” she might have taken the money and gone on her way. But instead, the boy thought silently for a few moments. And when he answered, she knew her decision was made.
“I will be one who has known deprivation and loss. One who has seen the cost of war and naked ambition and will temper his decisions with that knowledge.” He waved his hand at his small following, and Alda once again noticed how different each of them were, yet how devoted they were to their young lord. “I will be one who looks beyond the tribes and traditions of his subjects and sees the individuals therein.”
Alda reached up under her shirt. Pulled out the papers that had changed her life so completely held them before her. One hand edged near her belt knife out of habit but she forced it to stay gripped to the papers.
I can take a mound of coin that I’m sure will surpass the biggest score I’ve ever pulled down, or gamble it all on a boy emperor and his ragged band of warriors.
If you decide to throw the dice, she heard her father’s voice in her mind, then you must accept the result.
There are a lot of ways the dice can come that I will not like.
“I will give you these papers and the empire they hold,” she said, “and ask only one thing in return.”
“Anything,” Fridale said.
“That I be a part of this. That you let me join in on this mad gamble and help bring some order and peace to this world.”
Fridale didn’t hesitate. “I hereby make you Special Advisor to the Emperor, a title that none can rescind—not even me—and invite you most humbly to take a seat at my table.”
Alda thought the statement a little foolish as there was no table in sight, but everyone seemed to understand it was a metaphorical table, and besides, Fridale’s men and woman were all smiling and clapping her on the back as if she was already their boon companion. The Waldish giant seemed especially pleased.
“I really like this girl, Fridale!” He looked down at her. “You are a fool, of course, and should have taken the coin. But you are a grand fool. And the gods love nothing more than a grand fool.” He looked back to Fridale. “She will bring much needed luck to our quest.” Still looking at Fridale, he reached down and grasped her shoulder. She thought it might break under his grip. But he seemed friendly, so she didn’t stab him and silently endured the terrier-like shaking he gave her. “Despite the darkness of her skin, I can tell she has some Waldish blood in her. You should take her into your tent when you are older if you can. But I think she will stick you with a blade long before you can stick her with anything else.” He laughed long and hard over that.
And though she wanted to be offended, Alda was enjoying how red the suddenly very young-looking Fridale turned too much to care. They went back into the Hysan Sign and the tavernkeeper brought more ale and they drank a toast to the emperor, long may he reign. Alda looked around at her new companions and pictured a future where they sat around another table, only this table was in her magnificent home and they drank from goblets instead of cups and the food was served on silver platters instead of wooden trenchers and her daggers were all put away and no one wore a sword because the land was at peace and she’d helped make it happen.
You are a fool.
She knew it to be true. And her thoughts then turned to Duke Kesset and his armies riding toward Three Bridges, Heron plotting in the dark, her uncle who she knew only a little, her companions who she knew barely at all, and the thousands of armed strangers who would have to die or surrender or give up their power peacefully to this boy and his thin sheaf of papers.
And she thought, There’s no fucking way.
Suddenly, the ale tasted bitter and her ass hurt from riding and she wanted nothing more than to change her mind and tell the boy, “On second thought, I’ll take the money and be on my way.” But she knew she wouldn’t.
I have rolled the dice and I will live or die with the result.
She stood and stretched. Told the group she would retire for the night. Fridale sent a man with her to show her where their apartments were. And to stand guard.
“I’m quite capable of looking after myself.”
Fridale nodded. “I’m certain that’s true. But until this is done, none of us are safe alone. Our fates are all entwined and we succeed as one or fall together.”
She didn’t know whether she was reassured by this or not. But she knew he was right.
All or nothing now, I suppose.
“And one more thing, Special Advisor,” he said.
“Yes?” She could almost hear the Eidannians disapproving of her lack of proper address. The Waldish giant didn’t care, though, which made her like him even more.
“The position will, of course, come with a significant salary.”
He smiled wide and she matched it. Even rewarded him with a slight bow before leaving. She didn’t need help carrying her few belongings to the new room she would share with the only other woman in the group.
Probably just the one night, what with Kesset’s armies swarming down on us. Even if Heron had been bluffing, they had to act as if he weren’t. So one night’s sleep in a bed, then it’s back on the road.
She was almost used to it by now. Stripping down to just two knives, she crawled into bed, suddenly tired beyond measure. And no matter how tired she was now, she felt she was going to be even more so in the days to come. Because despite how unlikely it seemed, born of a whore and a murderer and trained only in larceny and theft, tomorrow morning she would start the work of forging an empire.
Adam Stemple, Deed of Empire
