The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4) (2 page)

BOOK: The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4)
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Within the Royal Chambers sat King Elias with his wife beside him, her belly swollen with the soon-to-be Prince. Several cousins and other distant relations puttered about the room, dutifully arranging it to the new King's desires. du'Varl worked hard not to spit at this. How many servants did even Barinhall employ, much less the Great and Noble House of Edders? Instead he worked his face into a proper smile and bowed.

"My Laird du'Varl!" Elias rose and gave a bow.

"You... need not bow to me, Highness," said du'Varl.

"I bow in respect, my Laird, and in no small surprise. It is our pleasure to see you here so soon. Would you care for wine?"

"No thank you, your Highness." Idly du'Varl wondered if the King would have served the wine himself. Preposterous! "Surprise, Highness?"

"Indeed. After your... After the Moot..." Elias seemed uncertain what to say.

This time du'Varl's smile was genuine.

"I understand, your Highness. Please realize that neither I nor House Varl has aught against you. We have naught against you or the Great and Noble House of Edders, my Oaths on that. I did, however, and do believe that your youth is not the virtue the other Houses believe it is. Pray forgive me, Highness, but that is the truth of it."

This time Elias bowed where he sat.

"I do understand, my Laird. I appreciate your candor. I trust," he said with some humor, "that you will not lose that soon."

du'Varl chuckled. "Never, your Highness. The Great and Noble House of Varl will always speak the truth as we see it, no matter what offense it may cause."

"And I shall count you a better ally for it, my Laird. This path was not of my choosing. Yet... Yet by the Oaths I swore I shall do my duty and take it as my honor. It is only with the help of all the Great and Noble houses that I or any of us will succeed. If such help involves no contention then it is no help at all."

Now du'Varl bowed. "That is wisdom beyond your years, Highness, and such wisdom I respect! It is truth also, your Highness. We all do live to serve the Worlds of the Crown of Stars and none of us has aught but its future and success in our hearts. The Great Oath of House Varl is upon that!"

***

"... but there you are wrong, Uncle Marius! Their vision is admirable and their dedication is absolute."

Young Edgar Robert and not Laird Brightcrown walked beside Gladius on their way to visit the King. The Moot celebration lasted longer than it should have but Gladius really couldn't criticize that. The people of the Crown had been without a King more than long enough. Afterward Gladius made a token appearance in the side hall where most of the Lairds and their hangers-on gathered for a glass of wine and heavy political discussion.

After a round of hand-shaking, some discussion and pleasant words from others of his 'nephews' Gladius excused himself for a visit to the King. Edgar Robert used that as his own excuse to leave. Thankfully the young Brightcrown had little stomach for Hausmoot politics.

"Perhaps, lad," said Gladius, "but even if they are as resolute as you think, this
League
of yours is a long way from here through a lot of uncertain space. Even the ship they sent here spoke of that. Their captain and diplomat themselves said they have more enemies than systems. I hope you made them no promises!"

"Friendship only, Uncle Marius. I'm not the fool many think of me! Should they manage to expand themselves to within convenient trading range, House Brightcrown will trade with them gladly. If."

"Would that it happen soon, Edgar. I fear it will not, though. Such ideals as they hold are less durable than they are appealing."

"But good trade makes good friends, Uncle! I personally dislike House Watt, no secret there, but Lord Terrence Gerald leapt at Brightcrown's offer to open additional routes. He likes me less than I him but even he saw the advantage there!"

"True, lad, and wise besides. The Crown is best served by strengthening itself, regardless of personal likes or dislikes. More Houses could learn that lesson! There is ample chaos, battle and the threat of both much closer than that League. Have you not heard the rumors of vestige Imperial legions gathering? To my mind that is a much greater threat."

Fyrelm dismissed that with a wave of his hand.

"I have heard them, Uncle. They
are
rumors. Rumors of rumors! The Great Rift is far from here and a hazard to hyperspace travel besides. Even farther by civilization! This supposed consortium of surviving legions is likely little more than a band or three of pirate fleets gathered around a rich asteroid field. No doubt they banded together under the most brutal of them and will not last past his death."

"But even small bands of pirates can be dangerous," countered Gladius, "Only an absolute fool would dismiss them as..."

Both of them stopped dead at the sound they heard ahead. The door to King Elias' chambers stood at the end of the hallway with a young page beside it. Fyrelm drew his sword and charged forward. Gladius paused only long enough to summon the Guard before running after the feckless Fyrelm with a well-intentioned curse.

***

Gladius charged in on a scene of carnage! King Elias lay dead in a pool of blood with the fingers on his outstretched hand barely touching those of his wife. She twitched feebly but no life shone from her eyes. Several guards lay among the other bodies, their blood mixing with that of three men Gladius didn't recognize.

Fyrelm stood paralyzed, staring at du'Varl as he calmly wiped his blade clean on the shirt of one of the King's cousins. Quincy Connor Harold Edders, who joined both Fyrelm and Elias for many summers at Gladius' estate. The man du'Varl had just killed!

"Halm's balls, du'Varl," spat Gladius, "What madness is this?! What have you done?"

Feet pounded from the hallway as Elder Guards arrived. They looked about in confusion and finally drew needlers and concussion pistols to cover everyone save Gladius. The senior serjeant looked at Gladius but kept silent.

"Lay down your weapons." du'Varl gazed arrogantly at the guardsmen. "That is a command! Put away your weapons or you will be executed for high treason against the Crown!"

Again the men looked at Gladius but none moved his weapon.

"L-laird Josef..." Fyrelm barely managed those words.

"Rest easy, cousin. I do not wish you dead or harmed, nor you Lucius. Calm yourselves. You are in no danger. Guards! Lower your weapons, I said! None here is guilty of any crime!"

"No crime," said Gladius incredulously, "Not guilty? You say that with Noble blood dripping from your blade, du'Varl?! The treason is..."

"The treason," interrupted du'Varl, "is not by my hand, Lucius! Halm's beard, man, are you still too blind to see?"

Gladius tried to speak but no words came forth.

"You are. Cracks in the Crown, you are!" du'Varl sheathed his blade. "Listen, then, for a moment. Calm yourself, Cousin Edgar. What I have done this day is to the best of the Crown, its worlds and its peoples. I have this day set us on the path toward our rightful destiny ruling our worlds in peace and prosperity!

"
King
Elias? Pah! A young fool of an Edders with his thoughts too small and his shoulders too soft to bear the Crown of Stars! He was young but youth vanishes with age. He lacked experience but that can be gained. Do you yet not see? House Edders is
weak
! Among the lot of them they have not the spew to
spit
on a pirate ship, much less best one in battle! They haven't the will to rule nor the strength to command!

"All who swear fealty to the Crown deserve a King who will lead! A King who will command. A King with the mettle to stretch forth his arm and take what is his by right! A King with the will and the willingness to rule; not a King who will snivel over the color of his cloak, or offer wine with his own hand!

"Cousin. The only way our Houses and worlds will survive and thrive is with great and durable will and resolve. The will and resolve of Hermann Rene du'Varl! Great and Noble Houses? Peh! The blood of our forefathers has weakened to the point of water, Edgar. Lucius' House still holds some of its former strength but even the Great and Noble House of Gladius is nothing to what it once was!"

du'Varl turned his attention to Gladius.

"Our worlds must have strength, man! Think, Lucius. Think back to the Moot that just named this man King. How many Lairds and Ladies nattered and moaned about the rabble outside our borders? How many of them snivel and whine for more Elder Guardsmen when they themselves are too weak and timid to defend their own worlds? Eh?"

More people rushed into the room. The Guards took the surviving members of du'Varl's group into custody but very carefully did not touch any Nobles or Notables. The lead serjeant did gently pull Elias' cloak over his face, then the rest of the Edders there.

"You are mad, Josef," said Gladius.

du'Varl turned his attention again to Fyrelm.

"Mad, am I? What say you, cousin? Is it madness to betray the blood we share? Is it madness to moan and deplore what we should conquer and defeat? Is it madness to turn away the power to lead the Crown into greater glory when it is thrust into your hands? I think not!"

"du'Varl..." Gladius half-drew his own blade.

"Stay your hand, Lucius! Do not shame and stain your House by spilling Royal blood."

du'Varl smiled with obscene smugness at Gladius' expression.

"Oh yes, Laird Gladius. With the most unfortunate death of King Elias and with no Edders heir to petition the Moot, the Crown passes to the blood of du'Varl. Indeed, old friend, of this I am quite certain. With the Crown in abeyance and contention within the Moot, the Crown passes to the blood of du'Varl. Why else should I work so diligently to place that Edders on the throne?"

"You... what?!" Fyrelm finally managed enough voice for that.

"Oh yes, cousin. My father started the matter after the Strik Palfrae war. Had the Crown forces been stronger and our Houses less divided we would have won handily and with less than a quarter of the casualties we took. He was as patient as he was capable yet he saw nothing past uniting our Houses once again.

"Why should the blood of du'Varl oppose the blood of du'Varl, cousin? Why should the Great and Noble Houses of du'Varl and Brightcrown stand apart? We share his blood, why should not we share his purpose as well? This we will accomplish and more besides! Think on it, boy. We share his vision and his strength. The Crown is ours by right!"

More than a few Nobles voiced outrage at that. Lady Hallings buried her head in Laird Toms-Watt's shoulder and he looked pasty and sick. Laird Sjoerd had a white-knuckled grip on his dagger. By the look of the Elder Guardsmen closest they shared his feelings.

"Well, Lucius?" du'Varl dismissed Sjoerd with a glance.

"I cannot contradict that," said Gladius finally, wishing to say anything else, "But I cannot confirm it now. I must review specific details of Precedence before I can do either."

du'Varl waved his hand in dismissal. "Do so, Lucius. I have done so quite thoroughly and you will find I am right. By right and by Oath, the Crown passes to the blood of du'Varl and I am the eldest in that line. I suggest you contact my fellows and have them prepared to convene the Moot."

With that, du'Varl walked arrogantly out of the room.

***

When Herald McCraid pounded his staff on the floor he had tears streaming down his face. Nor was he alone: Lord Elias was well-beloved before his coronation, always more willing to work with his peers than against and always minded of all his subjects and not just those of noble blood.

Acting as the Crown's steward until they raised another King, Gladius decreed two days of mourning followed by another three of celebration. He hoped the new King would extend the latter, but if du'Varl took the throne most of the other Nobles would see it as an insult. Gladius himself took time out of his studies to give King Elias, Queen Rhianda and their slain kin their final honors.

Seeing the young boy and his wife, now lifeless, hurt Gladius more than he could bear yet still he managed the words. More than just he turned their heads away when du'Varl walked past and placed his hand on the casket. More than a few Noble hands gripped their blades at that moment. For once in his lifetime Gladius doubted his ability to stop one Noble from slaying another, especially when such action ran so counter to his desires.

"Lairds and ladies, order please."

The Moot convened on Elias' second day of mourning. That wasn't proper but du'Varl hinted, via messages delivered by his pages, that his patience was thinning and that he had matters of import to attend. That rankled Gladius. du'Varl knew that and Gladius knew he knew it. That rankled too.

Edgar Robert caused Gladius no small distress as well. He hadn't seen the lad since that horrible night. When he passed Elias' body his expression hardened and he wouldn't meet Gladius' eyes. At first Gladius thought the young Fyrelm might try something both reckless and foolish. He didn't, nor did any of his court hint that such might happen and that gave Gladius more cause to worry.

"If it please the Great and Noble Houses of the Hausmoot, we have a question at hand."

Gladius had a strategy. He'd read the same Precedence as du'Varl, but the Lairds of the Great and Noble House of Gladius had far more experience with the intricacies of it. Even more, he had the Laird of the Great and Noble House of Lore assisting him. Ennobled by decree, Lore would never have a King elevated from its ranks. Not that its members cared for such things; knowledge and knowledge alone motivated them. Lore's current Laird, Albert Sage James, began his life as the fifth child of two of the poorest folk on Astraboria and earned his titles through sheer talent and an unquenchable thirst for learning.

"I have searched and researched the Rules of Precedence thoroughly," said Gladius, tearing himself away from his dithering, "Albert Sage James Laird Lore assisted me in this."

More than assisted! How James managed to circumvent House Lore's vaunted neutrality in Royal matters enough to lead Gladius to what he needed Gladius neither knew nor cared.

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