“But he’s a murderer!”
Thrusting a finger at her brother, Verhanna cried, “We know the truth! You conspired to destroy Silveran so you could reclaim the throne. Did you also plot the death of our father?”
She whipped out her sword, and the guards stood back, leaving sister and brother facing each other. “I want to kill you so much I could—” She stopped herself. “But Father has forbidden it! Now get out of my way before I forget my promise to him!”
She sheathed her sword and unlocked the door. After hustling Silveran out, she and her half-brother ran down the polished wood floor. They were trailed more slowly by Ulvian and the guards.
Verhanna flew through the open doorway of Kith-Kanan’s room. The four warriors who had remained behind were all kneeling around the Speaker’s bed. His eyes were closed. Verhanna didn’t need to ask; Kith-Kanan was dead.
Tamanier Ambrodel, his hair standing up on his head and his mantle askew, wept openly at the foot of the Speaker’s bed. “I was too late,” he sobbed.
The sergeant of the guard looked up at her. “He called to you, lady,” he said chokingly. “And to someone named Anaya.”
She had to swallow her grief, at least briefly. It was vitally important that her father’s wishes were carried out. “Did you all hear what he told me before he died?” she said frantically.
“Yes, lady,” said the sergeant. The other guards swore oaths that they had heard the Speaker’s words as well. Tersely Verhanna informed Tamanier of Ulvian’s plot against Silveran. Then she pulled Silveran into the room, and the guards rose to their feet.
“The Speaker of the Sun is dead,” the captain said, her voice cracking. “Long live Speaker Silveran!”
“Long live Speaker Silveran!” echoed the warriors.
Silveran’s face was bright as he tried to fathom it all.
“Your Majesty,” Tamanier added, bowing to the new young monarch.
“Where’s Ulvian?” Verhanna asked suddenly. He wasn’t in the Speaker’s rooms or the hallway nearby.
“Shall we search for him, lady?” asked the sergeant of the guard.
“It’s for the Speaker to decide,” Verhanna said softly, putting a hand to Silveran’s shoulder. The warriors looked expectantly at him. The elf’s eyes were calm.
The new Speaker gazed upon his father. “Let Ulvian go,” he said.
Now that she had fulfilled her duty to Kith-Kanan, Verhanna allowed her wobbly legs to give way, and she knelt by her father’s body, weeping uncontrollably. She had loved him and respected him with an intensity that approached worship. She couldn’t bear the thought that he was gone, that she would never again see his face, never again hear his voice, teasing her for her seriousness. Her brother moved to stand behind her and placed his hands on her shaking shoulders.
“I need you, Hanna,” Silveran whispered, for her ears only. “I need your help to rule Qualinesti.”
Verhanna pulled her gaze away from the still face of her father and looked up into the solemn visage of the new Speaker of the Sun. Kith-Kanan had been right. Silveran, once known as Greenhands, would make a fine leader. He was good and kind and incorruptible.
Her voice shook, but the words carried to all those in the room as she responded with the same ancient oath she had once sworn to her father. “You are my Speaker. You are my liege lord, and I shall obey you even unto death.”
With Silveran’s hands still on her shoulders, Verhanna rose slowly to her feet. The guards surrounded Kith-Kanan’s bed and came forward to raise him up. By ancient rite, a dead Speaker was carried to the Temple of Astra for prayers and purification.
“Stop,” Silveran ordered, and Verhanna looked startled. For just that instant, his commanding voice had sounded exactly like their father’s. Silveran held out a restraining hand. A hand no longer green. “This is my duty,” he stated.
With great tenderness, he lifted Kith-Kanan in his arms and carried him down the central stair to the reception hall. Verhanna walked behind him and to his right, and the warriors fell into step behind her.
At the bottom of the cherrywood stair stood the entire household, down to the humblest sweepers. All cried openly, and their heads bowed as the body of Kith-Kanan, founder and first Speaker of Qualinesti, was borne past them. Poor Tamanier Ambrodel was supported by the strong arm of his son Kemian. The aged castellan was so grief-stricken he could barely remain upright. He had one last duty to perform for his old friend and sovereign, though. When Silveran, with his sad burden, reached the bottom of the grand stair, Tamanier lifted his right hand and signaled the group of heralds waiting by the front doors.
The heralds flew out the double doors and ran like lightning across the square and into every part of the city. As the second Speaker of the Sun stepped into the morning sunshine, their high voices could be heard crying the dreadful news.
Speaker Silveran paused, blinking in the bright light. Verhanna felt her own step falter as, one by one, the great bells throughout the city of Qualinost fell silent.
Epilogue
The Letter
To His Gracious Majesty, Silveran, Speaker of the Sun, from Kemian, Lord Ambrodel, currently at Pax Tharkas.
Great Speaker: I wish to extend my heartiest good wishes to you on this, the first anniversary of your ascension to the throne. All Qualinesti is proud of the great work you have done following in the mighty footsteps of your esteemed father, the late Speaker, Kith-Kanan.
Preparations of the vault for your father’s final entombment here are nearly complete. The last touches are being applied, and Feldrin Feldspar is personally overseeing the tomb’s completion. Before the autumn equinox, everything will be ready to receive the late Speaker in his final resting place.
Regarding the other matters you wrote about, I can tell you a few things. Of Prince Ulvian, we have no certain news, though many rumors circulate about him. One week we hear he is living in Daltigoth, the pampered guest of the Emperor of Ergoth; the next week I am “reliably” informed that the prince lives in direst poverty in Balifor. The suggestion of the General of the Guards, Lady Verhanna, to send her scout to Balifor to ferret out the truth is a good one. If anyone can find Prince Ulvian, Rufus Wrinklecap can.
The flow of travelers from the east continues to dwindle. Some of the Silvanesti who have lately come to us say that the Speaker of the Stars, Sithas, plans to seal the border and prevent further emigration. Personally, I am not unhappy with this. The more people who leave Silvanesti, the more dangerous relations with the old country become, as they get more and more jealous of our wealth and success.
As Governor of Pax Tharkas, I can also report to Your Majesty that things go smoothly here.
The dwarves are admirable allies, and since the arrival of the Second Regiment of the Guards of the Sun, banditry has entirely ceased in the Kharolis Mountain region. The King of Thorbardin is greatly pleased. I enclose with this letter a missive from the king, in which he expresses his gratitude to Your Majesty for the garrison of guards. The king also hopes to begin mining nearby and says the mineral wealth of the mountains will greatly enrich both kingdoms.
Now, if I may, Great Speaker, I would like to beg a personal favor of you.
For many years, I have admired the person of General of the Guards, Lady Verhanna, but she has not returned my attention. Now that the period of mourning for Speaker Kith-Kanan has passed, I wonder if you would broach the subject of marriage to your esteemed sister on my behalf? I ask this for two reasons, Majesty. First, she is of royal blood and therefore requires your permission to marry, and second, she is my fellow officer, and I dare not approach her on such a delicate matter. It would be a breach of military discipline.
If you think it wise and prudent, Great Speaker, to do this for me, my happiness and gratitude would be boundless. I have loved Lady Verhanna for many years, but I dared not reveal myself to so formidable a warrior maiden. With you to sponsor me, I feel I may have a real chance at winning her hand.