darkened blade_ A fallen blade novel - Kelly McCullough Page 0,43
stairs of the guest wing. Jax occupied the royal chambers, which lay in the opposite wing of the castle. The arrangement was specifically designed to make it difficult for guests to slip quietly across and murder the royal family, which probably says a good deal about Dalridian politics, and meant that I had to pass through the entrance to the great hall to get there. Whether it was by happy chance—possible—or the machinations of Kelos—far more likely—that most public of central foyers is where I met up with Jax. She was trailing Kumi, Maryam, Roric, Kelos, and a man I didn’t know dressed in the royal livery of Dalridia.
Before she could speak, I asked, “How bad is the situation in Riada?” I kept my voice calm but pitched it to carry—again, if I must play the part I would do it up properly. “And with your brother?”
Maryam and Kumi both visibly started, though Roric hardly blinked. In general Roric retained the same stoically placid expression right up until the point where his temper cracked and he started twisting people’s heads off. It was one of his stronger assets as a potential assassin. The great hall was open, and I could hear the sounds of eating from within begin to go quiet as a ripple of whispers led away from the door. Kelos showed no surprise, of course. To her credit, neither did Jax, only sadness.
“My brother is most likely dead,” replied Jax, her voice steady. “As king, he led the counter-attack that met the Kvani at the top of the pass. If Riada is burning, and Garis tells me it is”—she touched the shoulder of the messenger—“then he will have fallen in the battle. Dead, badly wounded, or taken. I see no other chance. Given that the risen lead the van, I can only hope that Eian has died the true death and that his corpse will not be used as some undead puppet to sit the throne for the Son of Heaven.”
“He was a mage,” I said. “There is no concealing the death of his familiar. Would not the people notice?”
Jax shrugged. “The ones who knew him, certainly, but if his tenure were brief enough, it might go unremarked. Were it me in charge of the thing, I would stage a formal surrender and abdication using his animate corpse to dress up the wounds of conquest a bit.” Her voice had grown bitter and angry by then and I was reminded that she had taken over the direction of her brother’s spy service when she returned home.
“Do we know the pretext of the invasion?” I asked. The real reason was obvious enough—the Son knew that Toragana had come to us, and he feared what we might now do.
Jax turned to Garis. “Give him the scroll.”
Wordlessly, the messenger reached into his bag and handed over a slender roll of parchment. I unrolled it and . . . began to swear.
It read:
Be it known that Hasar, Khan of Khans, has learned of the revival of the cult of Namara, so-called goddess of justice under the auspices of the throne of Dalridia. The society of assassins must never be allowed to flourish again, and so it is with the utmost sadness that Hasar has united the clans and leads them now in war against this harborer of heretics.
The people of Dalridia will be harmed only inasmuch as they give succor to these cultists. Further, once the scourge of Namara’s cultists has been stamped out, the great khan will withdraw his forces from the lands of Dalridia. He will leave only those troops needed to properly restore order and see a new king set upon the Dalridian throne, one who shares none of the tainted blood of the so-called crown princess, Jax Elarson, known by some as Seldansbane, who is proscribed of Heaven.
“What does it say?” asked Faran, coming from the great hall.
I read it again, aloud this time.
“Crown princess?” asked Siri—she had just entered through the door that led to the drawbridge, as though she’d been out of the castle and only recently returned. Nice touch that, since no one knew to suspect that she had secret ways of coming and going.
Jax rolled her eyes. “I renounced all titles and inheritances when I went to the temple. Eian wanted me to reclaim the coronet when I came back to Dalridia, but I refused. I am no princess, nor ever shall be again.” She turned now to Garis. “Which is why you must