04c Dreams of Fire and Gods: Gods (26 page)

“Sheathe your weapons! Sheathe your weapons!”

“Stand down! That’s an order!”

The room quickly filled to the point at which only those on the dais weren’t pressed shoulder to shoulder. In a way, this helped keep the peace, since few men would attempt to fight when there was so little room to maneuver. Savön’s body had been moved by two of the guards and now lay at the base of the dais.

“Emperor Savön
dönz
Nesharr is dead!” Djalleh announced for the second time. He indicated one of the royal pages standing at the edge of the dais. “You, boy! Take this news to the temple immediately. Tell them to ring the bell.” In addition to the bell, criers would be sent throughout the city.

He was referring to the largest and lowest-pitched temple bell. It was never rung alone, except to herald the death of a member of the royal family. The only time Donegh had ever heard it was when Savön’s son Tull had been assasinated.

While the boy threaded his way through the crowd, a high-ranking officer moved forward to ask Teleh, “Was it an assassin, Commander?”

“No,” Teleh responded. He raised his voice for all to hear. “The emperor was
lawfully
challenged to combat, to defend his honor against charges that he ordered the assassinations of Dekan Seffni
dönz
Menaük and Dekan Sael
dönz
Menaük. He was defeated honorably by Vek Worlen.”

A murmur of disbelief rose up throughout the room.

“What does this mean?” the soldier asked. Savön had inherited his title from his father. None of these men, Donegh knew, had ever witnessed an emperor challenged and killed in this manner. It must have seemed to them—as it still did to him—that this couldn’t happen without the challenger being executed.

“It means,” Djalleh interjected, “that Vek Worlen is about to be crowned emperor.”

“Are you telling me, Chancellor, that anyone can just walk up to the emperor, challenge him to a duel, and take over the kingdom?”

There was laughter in the room at that, and Donegh noticed that even the
vek
smiled a bit, as if he found the idea amusing. Chancellor Djalleh, on the other hand, had never been known for his sense of humor. “If the challenger is in the legal line of succession and can prove he has the right of challenge,” he replied coldly. Then he added, “Am I to understand that you are objecting to Vek Worlen succeeding Emperor Savön?”

The soldier looked up at Worlen, who returned his look calmly and without any hint of malice. Then the man bowed. “I know the
vek
to be an honorable man. I have no objections and will gladly pledge my fealty to him as emperor.”

“Thank you, Commander Lun,” Worlen said as the other soldiers in the room took their cue from Lun and bowed.

There was little else to do but wait for the bells, and Donegh kept a close eye on Worlen during this time. The man was pale and sweating profusely. He wasn’t allowed to take the throne until Djalleh had proclaimed him emperor, and there was nowhere else for him to sit. But Donegh knew he wouldn’t be able to remain standing much longer.

We need to get him help!
he told Marik.
He can’t hold on forever.

How?
Marik replied.
If
that old nag won’t help him, none of the
ömem
will.

What about the Taaweh?

I cannot reach
Thuna
.

Suddenly a low bell rang out, sounding muffled and far away to those within the throne room, though Donegh knew the temple was next door to the palace.

Djalleh straightened and went silently to the page who had been entrusted with the emperor’s crown and cloak. He took the crown from him. Holding it up for all in the room to see, he proclaimed, “Emperor Savön is dead and, since the death of his son, he had no direct legal heir. Though there are many in his family line who might lay a claim to the throne, the
vek
is also in the line of succession, as established in the laws of the third dynasty. It therefore falls to the Lord High Chancellor to select who among these candidates is best suited to wear the crown.” He paused dramatically. “I, Lord High Chancellor Kall
dönz
Djalleh, hereby proclaim Lord Lüxen
dönz
Menaük, the
vek
of Worlen, to be the legal successor to the imperial throne.”

He stepped forward, as all in the room apart from him and Worlen bowed low, placing the crown upon Worlen’s head. “All hail His Imperial Majesty—Emperor Lüxen
dönz
Menaük!”

The room burst into choruses of “Hail, Emperor Lüxen!” Only Donegh noticed the new emperor swaying on his feet. He darted forward and caught him as he slumped to the side. Then without asking Djalleh for permission, he helped Worlen onto the throne.

Djalleh’s ancient face went quickly from annoyance to distress. “Is there something wrong, Your Majesty?”

“I appear to have been poisoned,” the new emperor told him with a wry smile. He allowed Donegh to wipe the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his tunic.

“We need an
ömem
to tend to the emperor,” Djalleh said, on the edge of panic now.

“The
ömem
will have nothing to do with him until our demands are met, Chancellor,” Raeh said. “We will help him when our sisters are safely out of Harleh Valley.”

“Your Majesty,” Djalleh said quickly to Worlen, “issue a decree that they be released.”

But Raeh waved a hand dismissively. “We care nothing for his promises. No aid will be given until
after
the sisters are away from Harleh and restitution has been made.”

“That’s absurd! He’s the emperor!”

“We are done making concessions to emperors,” she replied bitterly.

“What if he dies?”

“Then you will be crowning a new emperor in short order. It is not our concern.”

Suddenly, Worlen grabbed Donegh’s tunic at the neck and pulled him in close. “Find my son, Donegh. And bring him here.”

G
ONIM
felt empty. It was difficult to describe precisely, but even though the goddess hadn’t spoken to him often, he somehow sensed that they were now disconnected, though she stood a mere arm’s length away. Her presence no longer filled him, and he mourned its loss.

There was little time to consider this, however. The blond youth, Sael, glanced up and muttered, “What now?”

A figure was standing nearby, dressed in robes of black, with the cowl pulled low over his face. The fabric was odd—it seemed to fade in and out as the wind blew against it and caused it to billow out from the man’s body, as if it had no more substance than a shadow.

“Ah,” Imen said quietly, though an edge of menace had crept back into her voice, “they’ve sent one of their ‘warriors.’” The contempt in which she held these warriors was obvious.

The old mage they called Geilin bowed slightly to the newcomer and asked, “What can we do for you,
iinyeh
?”

The figure made a slight movement as if to bow… then stopped. “I have been sent from the Capital. Vek Worlen requires the presence of his son, Lord Sael, immediately.”

Sael, Geilin, and the one who’d saved Gonim’s life—Koreh—exchanged puzzled looks. Then Koreh attempted to approach the man.

Gonim was startled to see the robed figured melt into the ground, as if he’d fallen through a trapdoor. But Koreh seemed merely annoyed. When the man appeared just a few feet away, sliding quickly and silently up out of the ground again, Koreh growled and said, “You aren’t Taaweh! They don’t talk like that. Who are you?”

“I’m sorry. The
vek
needs Lord Sael urgently. I was hoping to avoid questions. I am not Taaweh, but they had Thuna train me.”

“Thuna!” Geilin gasped.

Sael added, “Thuna is dead.” Then at a sideways glance from Koreh, he amended that to, “Or at least she
was
.”

“So I was lead to believe,” the man said. “Yet she trained me and Marik in Taaweh magic to help the
vek
enter the palace, where he could challenge the emperor to a duel.”

“That’s insane!” Koreh exclaimed.

But Sael shook his head and said, “It sounds like something Father would do. End the war—the human war, the war he understands—quickly, before there are enormous casualties.”

“Yes,” Geilin concurred, “but our friend still hasn’t told us who
he
is.”

The man sighed and then slowly reached up to slide his cowl back. Gonim didn’t recognize the young man with disheveled brown hair that it revealed, but apparently the others did. They all looked shocked, and Koreh snarled, “You!”

He tackled the youth, knocking him over backward. But rather than strike the ground, they both seemed to fall into it and disappear.

Behind him, Gonim heard Imen laugh. “Oh my, this is entertaining.”

Sael gave her a sour look she might have struck him down for if she’d been able to reach him. But they were all distracted by the reappearance of Koreh and the youth, rolling on the ground and punching each other. Sael and Geilin shouted for Koreh to stop, but he ignored them until Imen’s voice boomed out as if from the heavens, “Be still!”

The two fighters froze and looked up in surprise.

Imen took a step closer to the barrier and said, “Koreh, though you have defied me and consorted with my enemies, I shall grant you this boon for saving the life of my servant. Donegh speaks the truth. I have seen him lead the
vek
into the palace, and I have seen the
vek
kill the emperor. Emperor Savön is dead, and Worlen is now Emperor of Dasak. But he is dying. It may already be too late.”

“Dying?” Sael asked fearfully.

The youth in black—Donegh—struggled to get Koreh’s forearm off his chest. He grunted and said, “I can take you to him, Your Lordship.”

“We’ll all go,” Koreh said, not relinquishing his hold.

“I can’t… take more than one at a time. I have to make several short jumps—”

“Enough!” Geilin said. “Koreh, please release him. I can take all of us.” As Koreh reluctantly crawled off Donegh and allowed him to stand, Geilin bowed to Queen Imen and said, “Thank you, Your Majesty. You have been most kind.”

Koreh still looked frustrated and annoyed, but perhaps he remembered Imen had given them the information as a favor to him, because he bowed as well. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Imen inclined her head to him.

Then Geilin, Koreh, Sael, and Donegh disappeared into the earth.

“Most kind…,” Imen said softly, as if to herself. She looked at the two guards who were standing off to one side, looking confused and terrified by everything they’d witnessed. “Leave us now.”

The guards bowed quickly to her and scurried off.

Gonim was alone with the goddess again, while Caednu continued his seemingly pointless battle against… whoever that terrifying corpselike god was. He glanced up at her to find her regarding him thoughtfully. He quickly averted his gaze, fearful of making eye contact.

“How do you feel, my warrior?”

Gonim struggled to sit up but could only manage to lift himself up on one elbow. “I am so much weaker now, Your Majesty.” It was difficult to find the words. “So much… less… without you.”

“Give me your hand.”

He stretched his free hand outward, just able to reach beyond where the line between grass and ash marked the boundary. Imen knelt and took his hand in hers, placing the jewel that she’d taken from his chest into his palm. It felt warm and alive against his skin.

“The life force in this jewel is nearly spent,” she said. “It will aid you no more. But I would like you to have it as a keepsake. Know that I will always watch over you, my warrior. And if I have learned anything of ‘kindness,’ it is because you have taught it to me.”

She vanished then, and Gonim rolled to lie on his back on the grass, clutching the jewel to his naked chest and softly crying.

T
HE
appearance of Sael and his companions in the throne room caused a stir. But perhaps the
vek
’s challenge and defeat of Emperor Savön had deadened the soldiers and nobles in the room to shock, because they were greeted with startled stares and murmurs rather than outright panic. Still, those who had been near the center of the room backed away from the newcomers.

Sael searched for his father but couldn’t find him in the crowd. A number of people were gathered upon the dais—High Chancellor Djalleh, Captain Teleh, and others he did not recognize—and the sound of a mournful, low bell could be heard from the nearby temple.

Seeing him, Chancellor Djalleh stepped forward and bowed. “Your Lordship. I would that our meeting was under less grievous circumstances.”

“Lord High Chancellor… where is my father?”

Djalleh stepped aside, as did the soldiers on the dais, and Sael saw him.

His father sat upon the throne, the emperor’s crown on his head and a haughty expression on his face. He sat upright, looking down at his subjects, but his eyes were glazed over, sightless and unblinking.