The Black Keep (The Chronicles of Llars) (44 page)

The Prince of Hybrand.

A Change of Luck.

Cannath paced the length of his office fuming over his most recent run-in with General Craxis.
How dare the man insult me and treat my people that way!
The General was ruthless, tyrannical, and treated all Hybrandese as second-class citizens. As far as the general was concerned, Hybrand existed only for the exploitation and settlement of wealthy Arnathian merchants and nobility. Cannath believed the old general’s plans included the systematic enslavement of the entire Cklathish people.

Always composed and bearing an impenetrable expression when in public, Lord Cannath was given to angry tirades in his quarters deep beneath the Temple of Qra’z. Today he gave in to one of his most vicious tirades ever, a fact to which his servants would readily attest. Indeed, Cannath’s outer office was in shambles. The chair was broken into pieces, the cabinets were shattered and files lay every-which-where. Cannath stood there breathing hard, sword in hand, trembling with rage. The door swung crookedly on a noisy hinge, the bottom bumping into pieces of broken wood and a nervous face peered inside.

Lord Cannath, or Prince Cannath, as he called himself in private (to say so in public would amount to treason) glanced silently at the door and met the questioning gaze of a servant. The young man knew his lord well and immediately ducked back out of the doorway, fully aware that he may yet begin another tirade. Cannath forced himself to control his breathing and bring his rage under control again. There was certainly no danger of discovery by the Arnathians, but he did not want any of his subjects wishing an audience with him to find him in this state.

Craxis had recently ordered the round-up of several “suspected insurgents” and shipped them off to the Imperial Capital for the Great Games. It was no secret that each territory must provide a certain number of criminals, based on a percentage of its populace, to be executed for sport in the coliseums of Arnathia. Evidently, Craxis’ jail didn’t have the required amount of prisoners so he contented himself with raiding the outlying villages and seizing citizens on trumped-up charges.

No matter,
t
hought the man.
Craxis has just sealed his own fate. I have something special planned for him!

A bead of sweat rolled down his nose and struck the floor as he sheathed his sword, he was irritated that the general’s antics could trigger such a violent rage in him and angrier still that he had given in to his emotions. At least, he mused, the general would never know how much he got under Cannath’s skin. The sounds of the door being forcibly opened against the cluttered floor brought Cannath’s wrathful gaze to bear upon the intruder. “Come in, Hugh. I have need of your council, old friend!” Cannath said wearily, the anger draining from him.

“Forgive me, Highness, but it is I, Gavinos,” said Gavinos as he forced the door open far enough to squeeze into the now ruined outer office. “A messenger has arrived, sire.” Gavinos looked around the room and a brief look of disdain flashed across his face, but it was gone so quickly Cannath wasn’t sure he had seen it. He filed that away in his mind for later use.

Cannath forgot his mood and beckoned Gavinos closer, his desire to begin the ousting of Craxis overshadowing all else. “What is the message, Gavinos?” he asked as his friend gingerly picked his way over and around broken furniture.

“It is the Prophet Shalthazar. He is sending a contingent of soldiers under the command of Lord Captain Coronus who commands a ship called
Eradicator;
he will arrive within two months’ time. We are commanded to be ready to begin the overthrow of Arnathian rule upon his arrival.” Gavinos was exuberant and for some reason the man always had a calming effect on Cannath. Cannath wondered exactly how large this contingent was and how soon it would arrive. No matter, he would learn these facts as they became available.

“He ‘commands’ us?” Cannath asked quietly. “That is a word one uses toward subjects, Gavinos. Not allies.”

“Forgive me, Highness. Sometimes I am a bit too eager and meanings can be lost or misinterpreted by messengers. I assure you, Holy Prophet-General Shalthazar does not view you as a subordinate, as he does me.”

“Hmm,” Cannath replied. “This Lord Commander Coronus, he is an elf too, yes?”

“In fact he is, Prince Cannath,” Gavinos replied; was that a flash of disdain again? It was gone too quickly to be certain.

“Very well. You say you have connections within these Spiders?” asked Cannath; the mere mention of that word triggered bile to rise in his throat. Gavinos answered with a nod. Cannath continued, “I wish to meet with this Eriagabbyn and formulate our plan.”

Gavinos bowed in acknowledgement of Cannath’s wishes and went to who-knows-where to facilitate a meeting between two out of the three most powerful men in Hybrand.

Cannath left the wreckage of the outer offices and entered his private office to think. He seated himself at his great, ornately carved desk and put his head in his hands and did something completely uncharacteristic; he prayed.

“Lord Cannath,” the servant spoke hesitantly, never eager to interrupt her lord when his mood had run afoul. “Lord Gavinos and one Eriagabbyn are here to see you.” Cannath eyed the servant with a distant and cold look, one which was inwardly pensive yet mistaken by the servant as one of anger. She had ensured that the prince’s loyal servants toiled dutifully to remove all signs of the prince’s earlier tirade.

“Thank you, Rashel. Find Hugh for me, he has taken ill, it seems.”

Seeing that her message had been clearly received by her lord, Rashel Cheval hastily left Cannath alone and went to find Hugh Renaul, her immediate superior and Cannath’s trusted adviser. Rashel trusted Cannath, and she was instrumental in keeping his servants loyal to him despite his predisposition to angry tirades. She knew Cannath very well and she cared for him deeply. She was a capable fighter and she commanded his personal guard. There were many who believed a deeper relationship existed between Cannath and Rashel, yet none could say for certain.

If Cannath was in love with Rashel it was an intensely secret affair, as he took no notice of her departure and certainly few would ever suspect such a relationship existed. He was certain he had only been sitting in his private office for less than an hour while Rashel oversaw the cleanup of his outer office. Gavinos must have assumed what the outcome of their earlier meeting would be and had already contacted the leader of these Spiders. Which meant that out of the three of them, Cannath was the last to truly know the outcome of this planning. Had anyone else dared to be so presumptuous with him there would have been severe punishment. But Gavinos was a trusted friend and Cannath would rather assume the man was merely trying to be being efficient rather than conspiratorial.

Cannath stood and ensured his appearance was impeccable; he firmly believed that one of his station should always project a commanding presence. He had already strapped on his Cklathish leathers and greaves and was armed with sword, daggers and a shield strapped to his back. One couldn’t be too careful in a meeting with the local lord of assassins and thieves. Too bad he would not be putting the man in irons.
Another time, perhaps.

Cannath met the men in the receiving area of his underground chambers. A servant had seen fit to start a fire in the hearth and placed some hot tea on a table. Noting that one person in particular had been in the room with that tea while it was unattended, he reminded himself not to drink any.

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” he said abruptly. “I am loathe to ask how someone such as yourself made it through the Temple Grounds without detection, so I won’t.” The other man extended his hand and bowed slightly in respect, but Cannath did not return the gesture.

“Very well, my prince. The chase it is,” said Eriagabbyn. The use of the royal title was not lost on Cannath. The Lord of Thieves, as he had been known, knelt before Cannath and pulled out a pair of long fighting daggers called
latani,
and laid them at his feet. “I and my men are yours to command, your highness.”

Cannath looked at him, inwardly disbelieving, outwardly stoic. Cannath took the
latani
from him and bade him to rise. “The dawn of our freedom is at hand, wouldn’t you say, Eriagabbyn?” Cannath asked with a raised brow.

“Indeed, your highness. You must be thinking that revolution makes strange bedfellows-”

“It had crossed my mind,” Cannath interrupted curtly as he watched the man rise.

“Sire, you must understand. We have been committed to the liberation of Hybrand since our inception.”

“Why is that? What possible reason would you have to take up with my cause? Other than the obvious profitability factor?” Cannath asked with ill-disguised skepticism.

“Your highness, there is something about me that you do not know. My father served your Great Uncle, the last Thayne of Hybrand.”

Cannath continued to give the elf his skeptical stare and said nothing, waiting for him to continue. It was rumored that some elves were quite long-lived; he had yet to meet any. “My father was part of an officer exchange between Hybrand and the Moutainheym Elves of Chonju. You are familiar with that long-standing tradition, your highness?”

Cannath gave the slightest nod and his look changed to one that said: this-better-be-good-or-I’ll-kill-you-now.

“You will find an account of his services in the Royal Archives, if General Craxis has not had them destroyed. My father learned much of your culture and became fast friends with General Manx MaKonle. In the fifth year of his service, the thayne led a raid into the Wastes beyond Herkenberg where they battled the infamously cruel Na’Drog hurkin Warclan, which had been planning to expand into Herkenberg and Eagle Forge. During the final battle my father was wounded by an arrow that pinned his shoulder to a tree. Your great uncle, the thayne, found him as a party of the Na’Drog were approaching to finish him off. The Na’Drog hold special hatred for all elvenkind and the thayne knew what they would have done to him.

“He saved my father’s life that day. My father returned to our homeland in the Mountains and raised me, along with my brothers, to become military officers in hopes of continuing that tradition. When Hybrand eventually fell to Arnathia he was devastated and pled with the Elders to send military aid. The situation was hopeless, however. The Arnathian numbers were too great and the Elvish and Cklathish allies could not be united.

“It is a great failing of our nation that we could not support your Great Uncle in his time of need and it stains our honor,” the elf said.

“So, why the fall from grace? What happened to make the noble Eriagabbyn leave his place of honor among the elite of the Mountainheym society, to work with a band of killers? How does one make that leap?” asked Cannath barely disguising the venom in his voice.

“Easy, my friend,” cautioned Gavinos with a restraining hand on Cannath’s shoulder. “He has offered you his blades; and you accepted.” Cannath regained his composure, Gavinos was right. He had accepted Eriagabbyn’s blades.

“As you know, the Mountainheym society has been ravaged by bands of oroks. We are fewer in number now and survive only by living underground where we are plagued by warves and, troks!” the bandit lord said derisively.

“Many of us left our underground holdings in hopes of bringing some attention to our plight. You will find the battle skills of my Spiders to your satisfaction, I routinely send new recruits to Mountainheym to harass the oroks.”