Vaelin turned back to the queen, head lowered. “I, Lord Vaelin Al Sorna, hereby pledge my loyal service to Queen Ordella Al Nieren of the Unified Realm.”
“I thank you, my lord,” the queen said. She had a cultured voice with the soft vowels of southern Asrael, but there was something of an edge to it as she continued. “Do you pledge to follow my commands as you would your King?”
“I do, my Queen.”
“Do you pledge to protect me and my children as you would your King? To lay down your life in our defence should it be necessary? And to do so regardless of what lies or deceits are voiced against us?”
Vaelin became aware of how silent the court had become, feeling the weight of so many eyes on his kneeling form. This is not for me, he decided. This is for them. “I do, my Queen.”
“You honour me, my lord.” She held out her hand, which Vaelin duly kissed, finding her skin icy on his lips.
“Excellent!” Malcius clapped his hands together. “My love, be so good as to proceed to the fair with the court. I shall be along directly, once Lord Vaelin and I have concluded our business.”
Alone with Vaelin save for two guards at the door, Malcius took off his crown, hanging it on the arm of his throne with a weary sigh. “Sorry about all that,” he said. “A necessary piece of theatre, I’m afraid.”
“I meant what I said, Highness.”
“I’m sure you did. If only every Sword of the Realm were so sincere in their oaths, this would be a much easier land to govern.” He sat in his throne, crouching forward, elbows resting on his knees, meeting Vaelin’s gaze with tired eyes. “Got old, didn’t I?”
“We all did, Highness.”
“Not you, you barely look a day older. I was expecting some wizened creature from the depths of the Emperor’s dungeon. But here you are, looking like you could take on every knight at the fair with barely a laboured breath.”
“The Emperor’s hospitality was generous, but lonely.”
“I’m sure.” Malcius reclined in his throne. “You know why I took your father’s estate, I presume?”
“You needed to ensure my loyalty.”
“I did. I see now it wasn’t necessary. But I had to be sure. You have no notion of the plots that surround my family. Every day word comes of a new group of conspirators, hatching murderous schemes in darkened rooms.”
“The Realm was always rich in wild rumour, Highness.”
“Rumour? If only it was just that. Two months ago they found a fellow in the palace grounds with a poisoned blade and the Catechism of the Faith tattooed on his back and chest, every word of it. I gave him a quick death, which is more than my father would have done, eh?”
Janus would have tortured him for a month, if he was feeling generous, two if he wasn’t. “Indeed, Highness. But one madman doesn’t make a plot.”
“There are others, be assured of that. And I must face them on my own, Aspect Arlyn wants no part of it. Since the war your former Order has regained much of its independence.”
“Even in your father’s day Aspect Arlyn was keen to draw a distinction between the Crown and the Faith.”
“The Faith.” The King’s voice was soft and faintly bitter. “When trouble brews in this Realm like as not you’ll find the Faith stirring the pot. Ardents and Tolerants at each other’s throats, Aspect Tendris and his ridiculous attempts to turn his bureaucrats into warriors. It’s supposed to unite us, instead it threatens to tear itself apart and this Realm with it.” His eyes fixed on Vaelin again. “And each side will wish to enlist your support.”
“Then each side will be disappointed.”
The King blinked, straightening in surprise. “I know you have left the Order behind, but the Faith too? What forced you to this? Did the Emperor make you worship the Alpiran gods?”
Vaelin suppressed a laugh. “Merely the hearing of a truth, Highness. The Faith was not tortured from me, nor do I look to any god for comfort.”
“It seems you are more of a danger to the harmony of the Realm than I realised.”
“I am a danger to no-one, provided they offer no harm to me or mine.”
Malcius sighed again then smiled. “Lyrna did always like you for your . . . complexity.”
Lyrna . . . It was strange, but it only occurred to him now that the princess had been absent from the court today. “She is at the fair, Highness?”
“No, gone north to conclude a treaty with the Lonak. If you can believe such a thing.”
Lyrna treating with the Lonak. The thought of it was absurd and appalling in equal measure. “You offered them peace?”
“Actually the offer came from their High Priestess. But she would only talk to Lyrna. A Lonak tradition apparently. Only the word of a woman can be trusted by the High Priestess, men are too easily corrupted.” He grimaced at the doubt on Vaelin’s face. “I had to take the chance. We’ve lost enough blood and treasure fighting the wolfmen, don’t you think?”
“Fighting us is what they live for.”
“Well, perhaps they want to start living for something else. As do I. This land needs to be reborn, Vaelin. Remade into something better. United once more, truly united, not forever riven by our borders and our faiths. The Edict of Toleration was but the first step. Reshaping our towns and cities is the next. Improving the fabric of the Realm will improve the souls of its subjects. I can do what my father never did despite all his wars and his scheming. I can bring peace, a lasting peace that will make this land great again. But I need your help.”
And so to the price. “You have my loyalty, Highness. However, I would be more secure in my service if I knew my sister was given her due.”
The King waved a hand. “Done, I’ll have the papers signed today. You can have all that your father owned. But you cannot remain here, not in Asrael.”
“In truth I had intended to ask your leave to depart the Realm, once my father’s estate is restored.”
The King frowned. “Depart? To where?”
“You recall Brother Frentis, I’m sure. I believe he still lives. I intend to find him.”
“Brother Frentis.” The King shook his head, voice heavy with sorrow. “He died at Untesh, Vaelin. They all did. Every man under my command.”
He was on a ship, bound somehow, his scars were burning . . . “Did you see it, Highness? Did you see him fall?”
The King’s gaze became distant, brow creased with reluctant memory. “Again and again we fought them off, Frentis at my side for much of it. And he was a sight to see, throwing himself into the thickest fight, saving us time and again. The men called him the Faith’s Fury. Without him the city would have fallen on the first day, not the third. I sent him to bolster the southern section that morning. The Alpirans were like a wave boiling over a harbour wall in a storm.”
He ran a hand through his hair, once rich red-gold, now thinner and shot through with streaks of grey. Vaelin noted how his hand shook. “They wouldn’t kill me. No matter how many I cut down, how hard I hacked and cursed at them. When they finally bore me down they roamed the city killing every Realm Guard they could find, the deserters, the wounded, it didn’t matter. But me they kept alive. Only me.”
He was on a ship . . . “In any case, Highness. I believe my brother to be alive, and request your leave to search for him.”
The King gave a grim smile and shook his head. “No, my lord. I’m sorry, but no. I require a different service from you.”
Vaelin gritted his teeth. I could just leave, he thought. Leave this sad, tired man to his dreams and his phantom plots. An oath compelled before an audience of pampered sycophants is just another lie, like the Faith.
Malcius rose from his throne to point to a large embroidered map of the Realm on the wall, his finger tracking from Asrael to a large blank expanse above the Great Northern Forest. “There, my lord, is where I require your service.”