Frostborn: The False King (27 page)

Martellar inclined his head and departing, loping down the pyramid’s steps. 

“Ridmark Arban,” said Curzonar, stepping forward. “It is good to see you again.”

“And you, Prince Curzonar,” said Ridmark. “I see you escaped the Vale of Stone Death without difficulty.”

“Aye,” said Curzonar. “We took Taalmak Azakhun and his remaining retainers to Coldinium, and then returned to the Range.” His eyes shifted to Calliande. “And you, Keeper? You regained your memories and your powers?”

“I did, lord Prince,” said Calliande, though she sometimes she wished that she had not. “We entered Khald Azalar and escaped alive, though it is a long tale.”

Curzonar waved a hand. “Another time, perhaps. Your companions? Are they all here?”

“Some,” said Ridmark. “Mara and Jager had to remain in Nightmane Forest for obvious reasons.”

“Your mate Morigna,” said Curzonar. “Is she here? Her powers might prove useful.”

Calliande looked at Ridmark’s face, but his expression gave away nothing.

“She was killed,” said Ridmark, “on the night the Frostborn returned.”

“A grievous loss,” said Curzonar. “And truly barbaric. Among the Hunters, it is unlawful to kill females during the struggles between the males. Else who shall bear the next generation of Hunters?”

“Many died that night,” said Ridmark, “and many more since.” He took a deep breath. “But I do not think you invited us here to speak of the past.”

“No,” said Curzonar. “It is the future that concerns us now. Mother?”

Raszema stepped forward, her ornaments glinting. “Tell me, Keeper. You have seen the Red King’s court. You have seen the assembled Princes. What is the nature of the problem?”

“Regrettably, it is a simple one,” said Calliande. 

“You think our problems simple?” said Raszema.

“Simple is not the same as easy,” said Calliande.

Raszema inclined her head. 

“The chief difficulty is the Red King’s age,” said Calliande. “He is growing weaker, and sooner or later one of the Princes will challenge him for the throne of the Range. Curzonar and Kurdulkar are the most likely candidates, but neither one of them is quite strong enough because Turcontar is still a vicious old warrior. In time, the situation would resolve itself, but the Frostborn are coming. Worse, Kurdulkar worships the shadow of Incariel…and if he takes the throne as Red King, it will be a disaster.”

For a moment no one spoke.

“I see the legends of the wisdom of the Keepers of old,” said Raszema, “was not exaggerated.” 

“I state not wisdom, but the obvious,” said Calliande.

“In times of turmoil, it is often wisdom to state the obvious,” said Raszema. “Especially when few others will do so.” 

“You have summarized our problems admirably,” said Tazemazar. “The arbiters are opposed to Kurdulkar’s rise. We know the history of Incariel’s shadow, even if Kurdulkar in his pride and folly has chosen to ignore it. Turning the Hunters and the tygrai to the worship of the shadow would be disastrous.”

“Then why do you not act directly to stop Kurdulkar?” said Ridmark. “You are the arbiters of the manetaur kindred. Surely you have the authority.” 

“They cannot,” said Calliande. “The arbiters act as judges, guardians, and historians. Unless Kurdulkar appeals to them for judgment, they cannot act…”

“And unless Kurdulkar directly violates the laws of the manetaur nation, they cannot act,” said Ridmark, completing her thought. “And he has not yet violated a law.”

“No,” said Curzonar. “No, the slippery devil is too clever for that.” 

“Does it not violate the laws of the manetaurs to worship Incariel’s shadow?” said Calliande. 

“It may surprise you, but it does not,” said Curzonar. 

“It is too obvious,” said Tazemazar. “Do humans need an edict not to eat poison, or orcs a law not to cut off their own fingers? It is utter madness, yet Kurdulkar has embraced it.”

“Worse,” said Curzonar, “he has chosen this folly at the worst possible time. The Frostborn are rising to the west. Now, right now, is the time to gather our power and strike. If we wait until the Frostborn crush Andomhaim and the Anathgrimm, it will be far too late. The timing is damnably inconvenient.”

“It is not inconvenient timing, but a malign design,” said Calliande. “Tymandain Shadowbearer planned this. He wished to bring back the Frostborn, and so he laid his plans centuries in advance, founding the Enlightened among the men of Andomhaim and bringing the word of the shadow to Kurdulkar.” 

And all those plans had come to fruition because of Calliande’s failure. 

A wave of guilt and despair threatened to roll through her, and she shoved it aside. She could have the luxury of blaming herself later. Too much was now at stake. 

“Then we have fallen victim to a plot centuries in the making,” said Tazemazar. 

“We have,” said Calliande, “but we still have time to act. Kurdulkar has not yet claimed the Red King’s throne.” A thought occurred to her. “Why hasn’t Turcontar put a stop to Kurdulkar’s ambitions? Surely he does not approve of the shadow of Incariel?”

If he did, if Turcontar had become a worshipper of the shadow himself, then it was already too late.

“No,” said Curzonar. “He does not. He spoke of it to me with contempt. I do not understand why he does not chastise Kurdulkar.”

“Sentiment,” said Raszema in a quiet voice.

“I don’t understand,” said Curzonar.

“You would not,” said Raszema. “You are too young. If you live long enough, perhaps you shall. Kurdulkar’s mother was always Turcontar’s favorite wife.” 

“You are his First Queen,” said Calliande.

“That simply means I am his most senior wife,” said Raszema. “Not his favorite.” There was no pain in her voice, simply a matter-of-fact calmness, and again Calliande was struck by the alien nature of the manetaurs. “Turcontar and I are fond of each other certainly, but Kurdulkar’s mother enthralled him. She died of not long after Kurdulkar’s birth, and that death hit Turcontar hard. In her memory, he is fond of Kurdulkar in a way he is not of the other Princes.” 

“Then why does he not simply support Kurdulkar?” said Calliande. 

“He is sentimental, but not a fool,” said Tazemazar. 

“He thinks Kurdulkar’s obsession with the shadow is a youthful folly, to use his own words,” said Curzonar. “One he shall grow out of while he matures.”

“In this, if you will excuse my bluntness, the Red King is showing folly of his own,” said Calliande. “One does not flirt with the shadow of Incariel. It twists and consumes those who dare to employ it.” She remembered Claudius Agrell mutating in the courtyard of Castra Carhaine. “Sometimes death is a better fate than what otherwise might befall us.” 

“On this,” said Tazemazar, “we are agreed. Perhaps it would be better for the Hunters to be wiped out than enslaved by the Frostborn or warped into monsters by the shadow of Incariel.” 

“Then what do you suggest we do about our problems, Keeper of Andomhaim?” said Raszema. “The Keepers have often counseled the High Kings of Andomhaim. What counsel do you offer the Hunters in this hour of crisis?”

Calliande considered her answer for a moment. 

“The manetaurs and the tygrai must march against the Frostborn,” said Calliande. “On this we are agreed. Yet Turcontar will not allow it, partly because of the dvargir raids, and partly because his favorite son counsels against it.” She took a deep breath. “What we must find then is proof. Absolute proof that Kurdulkar has broken the laws of the manetaurs, for he almost certainly has broken those laws. That will turn Turcontar against him, and prove the need to march against the Frostborn.”

“That is sound counsel,” said Raszema. “But where are we to find such proof?”

“The dvargir raids,” said Ridmark.

They all looked at him.

“The worshippers of Incariel often collude,” said Ridmark. “The dvargir aided the Enlightened on several occasions. Remember Tarrabus’s dvargir mercenaries? I suspect that Kurdulkar has orchestrated the dvargir raids upon the Range as an excuse to keep the manetaurs from marching to the aid of the Anathgrimm.”

The manetaurs regarded him in silence for a moment.

“I told you, mother,” said Curzonar. “He has the instincts of a Hunter.” 

“I still find such a crime hard to believe,” said Tazemazar. “Would Kurdulkar truly turn his back upon his kindred to such an extent? The dvargir have been our mortal enemies for millennia. A Prince of the Range allying with them is almost beyond comprehension.”

“Those who follow the shadow of Incariel are capable of terrible crimes,” said Calliande. “Tarrabus Carhaine murdered the High King and his sons and is trying to seize the throne for himself. I know that is how the succession is decided among the manetaurs, but for us, it is as shocking as Kurdulkar allying with the dvargir.” 

“Nevertheless,” said Curzonar, “I believe that Kurdulkar has allied with the dvargir, or at least bribed them to launch these raids.”

“So where shall we find the proof?” said Calliande. 

“Shakaboth,” said Curzonar. 

“Another town?” said Calliande.

“Of a sort,” said Curzonar.

“It lies within the Deeps,” said Tazemazar. “Not far from the surface.” 

“A trade town,” said Ridmark, and Calliande looked at him. “They’re a little like our old friend Smiling Otto’s establishment at Vulmhosk. All the kindreds that dwell in the Deeps are constantly at war with one another, but they all have things that the others need. Trade is inevitable. So sometimes some enterprising dvargir merchant or kobold chieftain seizes a cavern, declares it neutral territory, and opens up for business. The successful ones become wealthy. The unsuccessful ones die quickly.” 

“Shakaboth is ruled by an orcish wizard named Zuglacht,” said Tazemazar. “He hires kobold mercenaries to enforce his will. He is an unscrupulous, treacherous rogue, but he does keep order in Shakaboth.”

“Bad for business otherwise,” said Ridmark.

“Indeed,” said Tazemazar.

“How do the manetaurs know of this place?” said Calliande. “I understood that you only rarely visit the Deeps.” 

“This is true,” said Raszema, “but from time to time we, too, need items available only in the Deeps. The Hunters do not engage in trade, but the tygrai do, and they do so in our name in Shakaboth.” 

“If Kurdulkar hired dvargir mercenaries to attack the Deeps,” said Curzonar, “he would have done so there. The dvargir Great Houses of Khaldurmar keep an embassy within Shakaboth for reasons of trade. If Kurdulkar made a pact with the dvargir, or simply hired them, he would have done so there.”

“And the proof of that,” said Calliande, “is likely to be found within Shakaboth.”

“So you want us to find it,” said Ridmark.

The three manetaurs shared a look.

“Yes,” said Curzonar. “We Hunters excel at many things…but subterfuge is not one of them. Stalking prey unseen across the high plains is one matter. Breaking unseen into the stronghold of a dvargir merchant…that is quite another.”

“I’ve had some experience,” said Ridmark, his voice dry.

“Undoubtedly,” said Raszema, her voice just as dry.

“Additionally, the other woman in your company will prove useful,” said Tazemazar.

Calliande frowned. “Third, you mean?”

“The Traveler’s renegade daughter,” said Tazemazar. Third herself, Calliande reflected, would rather have liked that description. “Curzonar told us of Queen Mara’s powers. Am I correct to assume that Third possesses similar powers? I saw her transport herself in the First Queen’s garden.”

“She does,” said Calliande, “if not quite so potent.”

“I am sure it has occurred to you,” said Raszema, “that Third’s abilities would make her an effective thief. Perhaps she will allow you to break into the dvargir embassy, obtain evidence of Kurdulkar’s crimes, and escape.” 

“Perhaps,” said Ridmark. “There is the small matter of reaching Shakaboth alive, though. Kurdulkar will try to kill the Keeper if the opportunity presents itself.” 

“We have devised a subterfuge,” said Curzonar. “The entrance to the Deeps nearest Shakaboth is two days’ south of Bastoth. I will invite you, the Keeper, and your companions to accompany me on a hunting trip, to repay you for Kurdulkar’s rudeness before the High King. We shall slip away to the south and enter the Deeps, and from there make our way to Shakaboth.” 

“There is a chance we will fail,” said Calliande. “It may well be that Kurdulkar left no evidence behind, or was clever enough to cover his tracks.”

“It may be,” said Raszema, “but it is also possible that he made a mistake. Kurdulkar is clever, but his overweening pride sometimes leads him to errors.” The First Queen shrugged. “These are the options before you. You may depart the Range and seek allies elsewhere. You can stay and attempt to convince Turcontar to aid you, even as Kurdulkar argues against you with every step. Or you can find the proof that Kurdulkar is a serpent, that he is plotting against the Hunters…and that proof will convince Turcontar to aid you against the Frostborn.”

Her logic was without flaw, but Calliande did not dare to leave the Range. If she did, Kurdulkar might well become the new Red King, and he would lead the manetaurs to war against Prince Arandar. That would guarantee the victory of both Tarrabus and the Frostborn. She had to bring the manetaurs to the aid of the Anathgrimm, no matter what it took.

Calliande nodded to Ridmark.

“Very well, then,” said Ridmark. “When do we leave?”

Chapter 16: Shakaboth

Gavin rode out with the others before dawn, leaving the sleeping city of Bastoth behind them. 

Sir Ector and his men-at-arms had not been pleased to remain at the Inn of the River, but Calliande had insisted. Speed and stealth were essential to their task, and it was difficult to hide that many mounted men-at-arms. If she came under attack, she told Sir Ector, Gavin and Antenora could defend her well enough.

Gavin hoped that he could live up to that promise. 

He suspected he would find out soon enough. Curzonar and Ridmark thought they had gotten away from Bastoth without anyone the wiser, but Gavin had seen too many battles by now to trust that kind of assumption.